Chapter 23
23
JONATHAN
O n Saturday, when I go up the hill to check in with Zane, my mind still hasn’t stopped swimming with thoughts of Adam and Geoff.
Zane must sense something is off because, after he’s given me the usual assurances about Dad’s health, he says, “What’s wrong, Babybel?”
I really hate that nickname. And I also hate how my heart responds to it. I really miss my family, Zane and Sebastian included.
“Nothing’s wrong,” I say, too chipper.
“Is it The Beast?” Zane presses. “Is he mistreating you?” He sounds ready to take him on if he is.
“No, no. He’s… great. He’s great.”
“Oooh.” I silently curse at the brightness in Zane’s voice. “Oh, this is a far better problem than I expected.”
I hear Sebastian in the background. Zane answers him, “Jonathan’s got a crush on The Beast.”
“I do not!” Every atom of my being is cringing.
“Hold on,” Zane says. “I’m putting you on speaker.”
“Hey, Jonathan,” Sebastian says a moment later. “I apologize for my husband. I can go if you want?” His South African accent is still as thick as Zane’s American one.
“Hi, Sebastian. How are you?”
“Don’t ask,” Zane says, before he can answer. “We’re discussing you at the moment.”
“That sounds… suspicious.”
Sebastian sighs. “I’m fine.”
Zane adds, “He’s riddled with guilt because he quit the NHS and now there’s a pandemic.”
“I need to do something.”
“And I won’t let him volunteer for the government’s bullshit Bring Back Staff program until they can keep him safe or at least, you know, offer him PPE. Now, let’s get back to the juicy stuff. You and The Beast.”
My stuff hardly matters. There’s a whole pandemic going on out there. “Can’t you do something that doesn’t put you at risk?”
“I’m a doctor.”
“Oy! Focus!” I hear Zane clicking his fingers. “The Beast.”
“The Beast,” Sebastian agrees. “Tell us everything.”
I draw a deep breath and let it out slowly. “There isn’t an everything to tell. He’s just not what I expected.”
“Go on…” Zane prompts.
“I don’t know.” I can feel a blush creeping up my neck. “I thought that he was cold and selfish. But it turns out he’s the opposite. He really cares about making a difference. He’s warm and funny and thoughtful and— I’m sure it’s the isolation. Please help me get my head straight.”
“Sounds like getting your head straight is the opposite of what needs to happen,” Zane says. “Sounds like you need to bang.”
I roll my eyes. “Zane…”
“You’re all isolated up there, can’t be that much to do. What’s the problem?”
“We’re not all built like you, babe,” Sebastian cuts in. “Maybe Jonathan wants something more meaningful.”
“Pfft, no he doesn’t. Jonathan’s an intellectual. He doesn’t believe in squishy things like love.”
I did tell him that once. How is Zane to know that it’s what I told myself as comfort, because the big romantic Hollywood love was all I’d ever wanted and I’d never come close to finding it? I wanted a Heathcliff who’d go wild at the thought of losing me. I wanted The Notebook, I wanted Casablanca, I wanted Pride and Prejudice. But Adam has already had his great love story and it wasn’t with me.And now he has Geoff .
I scoff. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to say anything.”
Zane sighs. “Okay, you’re right, it’s a terrible idea.”
“Thank you.”
“He thinks you’re 60.”
A laugh jerks out of me quite against my will.
“He thinks you’re an old man who loves poetry and has like six kids.”
“Zane, stop.” I’m still fighting back laughter. It feels really good actually.
Zane sobers. “You know, someone very wise—someone who is around 60 and has six kids in fact—once told me that it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. If there’s one thing this pandemic is showing us all it’s that life might be shorter than we realize. You don’t want to miss out.”
I fold my arms and gaze back towards the house. Once again, I find myself turning over the moment when Adam’s fingers brushed my neck. Then I shake my head to clear the thought.
But Zane has given me another idea. Something that I can do in the name of friendship, if nothing else.
I knock on the control room door and my heart jumps into my throat when Adam’s deep voice calls for me to enter.
I poke my head in. “Do you have a minute? If you’re busy I can come back?”
Adam is at his oversized wooden desk. Behind him, one of the screens shows the children clustered around the playroom TV while they wait for dinner.
“Take a seat.” Adam kicks out the chair opposite him and gestures for me to sit.
My stomach a tangle of knots. I pull the book from my pocket and set it on the desk.
“In Memoriam A. H. H., Alfred Lord Tennyson.” Zane unknowingly quoted one of the famous lines from it.
I went looking for it in the library and, naturally, Lloyd had a copy. If there’s one thing I can rely on in this strange house, it’s Lloyd’s good taste.
“When Tennyson was in his early twenties, he lost his dearest friend to a sudden brain hemorrhage. Over the next seventeen years, he wrote these poems about his grief and… I’m sorry if I’m overstepping. I thought maybe…” I clear my throat, avoiding looking at Adam. “It’s one of the few works that I believe truly captures the feeling not just of grief itself but of the world continuing to move on around you, of feeling adrift and left behind. Our conversation the other—” What am I doing? I’m making so many presumptions. And who brings a man a book of poetry in this day and age? “Sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have…” I reach for the book, but he covers my hand with his own.
He’s silent for a moment and my heart thunders at how his skin presses against mine for the time it takes for him to find words. “Thank you,” he says eventually.
His voice is so soft, his touch is so warm. I’m nearly overcome with desire. I take my hand back and stand, possibly a little abruptly. “I should go see to the children before they cause any mischief.” Even though I can see on the screen behind his head that they’re behaving perfectly well.
As I reach the doorway, he calls out, “Jonathan, wait.”
A shiver rushes through me as I turn back. He used my first name.
He’s holding the book in both hands. The slim volume looks so small and out of place against his massive frame.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about our picnic.” It’s suddenly difficult to breathe. “I’d like to do more. With the children. For them. I’m just not sure what… I could use your help?”
I nod and wet my lips. “Well I… I did have one thought.”
He lifts his bushy eyebrows in encouragement.
“Their rooms, they’re all quite plain, aren’t they? Nice but all exactly alike. I thought… well I thought it would have been nice if they were maybe a little more unique? It’s probably a silly idea.”
He smiles. “You angling for a shopping spree, Belle?”
I duck my chin, “Just a few items for each of them. It could be a nice way to make them feel more at home.”
Someone raps on the door and before Adam has a chance to say anything it opens and Geoff strides in, looking down at some papers. “The advertorial just came in, want to give it a—” he looks up, sees me, “read?”
“I was in the middle of something, as a matter of fact,” Adam says, nonplussed.
“Oh, it, uh, wasn’t important,” I say, wishing I could disappear.
Geoff looks between us, eyes narrowing a little.
“If you could give us a moment?” Adam says, and at first I think he’s speaking to me and I’m about to slide out, but his gaze is fixed on Geoff.
“Sure, whatever.” Geoff leaves.
Adam sighs. “One day he’ll learn manners.”
“Ah, but would it really be the same Geoff if he did?”
He snorts and reaches into a pocket to dig out a credit card. “I like your idea. I actually thought of it, you know, when we were refurbishing? But as you’ve probably gathered by now, I have as little taste as Geoff has tact.” He passes me the card.
“It’s probably just as well you left the rooms a blank slate. It means we have more freedom to adapt each space to fit each specific child.”
“We?”
“Well yes, I think it’s something they’d appreciate coming from you. You’re their foster father after all.”
His gaze drops to the book and he runs a hand absently over the embossed title. “Father,” he repeats softly.
“It will mean more coming from you. Of course I’m happy to help.”
He nods without looking up. “Belle, I should…”
I can sense where this is going. “Don’t overthink it. I’ll sit with you. We can pick out some things together.”
He seems to brighten at this. “Okay.”
I hand the card back to him.
Geoff is lurking outside the door when I leave. He appears to be busy on his phone. Which would be more believable if we had signal.
“What was that about?” he asks with feigned casualness.
I don’t want to cause any drama between them so, as tempting as it is to tell him to mind his own business, I say, “Just something for the children.”
He hums as if he doesn’t believe me. “Did you consider my offer?”
“Offer?”
“Boxing lessons? You could use the physical exercise.” His gaze moves down me, hovers around my middle.
I fold my arms around myself protectively. Maybe I have been over indulging a little in Ray’s excellent cooking.
“Thank you but I’ve never really been one for the gym life.”
“No shit.” But he smiles and there doesn’t seem to be any malice in it. “That’s why I’m offering lessons , Teach. Aren’t you bored out of your mind out here?”
I certainly won’t be now I have access to that library.
“Come on, may as well use this time for self-improvement. You’re a gay man. You know what gay men are like.”
I will my ears not to go pink even as I feel them heat. “I’ve read the studies.”
Studies that say appearance is a high priority among gay men, that failure to measure up to the masculine ideal is likely to end in a lifetime of loneliness. The knowledge is a dark hole in the pit of my stomach.
He laughs like I’ve just told the funniest joke he’s ever heard. I suppose it is pretty funny that I know more about my own community from academic articles than from experience.
“Trust me, once I’m done with you, you’ll have your pick. MagicMirror won’t know what hit it.”
I don’t see myself ever using that hookup app, but it would be nice to not be self-conscious for once, to feel comfortable in my own skin. To feel worthy of the attention of someone like Adam, perhaps.
“I suppose there wouldn’t be any harm.”
“Great. I’ll see you tonight… Unless you have other plans?”
I can’t believe I’m about to agree to this. “Well, I did have a date lined up with David Copperfield.”
He frowns. “The magician?”
“The book. But I can reschedule.” At the very least, it will help me keep my mind off Adam.
Geoff huffs a small laugh, probably thinking that I’m a lost cause.