by Rachel Kane
“No,” said Liam, “because no such thing happened!”
“Oh, c’mon,” said Noah. “We all saw the way you two hung back while we were looking at the house. And then the way you snuck off to the spring.”
“There is no such word as snuck,” said Judah.
“There’s such a word as snack, and the handyman definitely is one,” said Noah. “If you’re not going to sleep with him, I will.”
It was a joke, and Liam knew Noah didn’t mean anything by it other than his usual prodding about Liam’s loneliness…yet there was a little spark of jealousy there, jealousy that had no right to exist. It wasn’t like Mason was his, just because he’d met the contractor first, just because they’d shared some beers at a bar. There was nothing there. They hadn’t flirted, they hadn’t given each other the little hints of availability and interest.
No, but he fell in love with the mosaic, same as you, thought Liam.
It had been a moment of unexpected connection. Mental as well as physical, their hands touching, pulling away with surprise, as though these two full-grown men were some kind of Victorian innocents, blushing at the slightest contact.
Sleep with him? I can hardly be in the same room as him.
“I’m sure Liam will come out of his shell at some point,” said Judah. “But let’s not goad him into making bad decisions with men he’ll never see again.”
“Those are the best kind of men to make bad decisions with, because you never see them again,” countered Noah.
“The question of whom Liam should be attracted to—”
“Can my private life not be the topic of this particular conversation?” begged Liam. “I brought you here to talk about the house, not about my dating prospects.”
“We only worry, because those prospects are so few and far between,” said Noah with exaggerated sympathy.
“My brother is a great catch,” insisted Judah, “and any man would be lucky to have him!”
Mama blinked. “Maybe I should take Roo on a little walk, while you boys discuss things I don’t want to hear about.”
Liam waved away the idea. “No. We’re not discussing that. Besides, after lunch we have to meet with Mr. Edwards and sign the papers. And then…”
He sighed, and they all looked at him.
“Then I have to make a decision.”
10
Mason
Texting was easier. Liam was with his family, and Mason wasn’t sure he could really have a conversation with him with all those people around. Certainly not face-to-face. Hard enough over the phone.
You touched his hand. Stop being a baby about it. It’s not like you stripped off his clothes and threw him on the ground and—
Yeah, exactly. Exactly. It wasn’t like that at all, so there was no reason to think about it. Liam Cooper was a client, not a potential lover. As long as there was a chance he’d be lingering here in town, he was off-limits. Too much risk, too much chance people would find out, and then his secrets would be out in the open.
His thoughts were interrupted by his dad, who moved slowly, carefully into the kitchen, using his cane. Mason could practically hear the man’s backbones creak, although his dad was too tough to ever show pain. That weathered face had seen too much, his expression seemed to say, to be worried over a little thing like chronic aches from where they had bolted him back together after his fall.
I ain’t gonna be no drug addict, his dad had said after the surgery, sweeping the narcotics off the hospital tray. You keep them happy-pills for yourself, he’d told the startled nurse.
He’d survived through sheer grit, determination and stubbornness, although now, years later, Mason felt like he could see the toll it had taken on him, those sluggish, difficult steps through the house, that barely-perceptible wince as he lifted the coffee pot to pour out his afternoon cup.
“You finishin’ up that estimate?”
“Yessir,” Mason said, holding up his papers.
“Big job, that house. Always used to wonder how much work it would take. Charge that city-boy an arm and a leg, will you?”
That was the problem. Mason knew, as soon as he showed Liam the numbers, it would scare the man off. He’d high-tail it back to the city, and Mason would never see him again.
But that’s what you want, he told himself. You want to be free of any temptation in that direction.
Liam’s life wasn’t for him. It wasn’t on offer. To be that openly gay? In this town? Around all the people he’d known since he was in the cradle? Around both friends and…lifelong enemies?
At a certain point, you dig yourself in too deep. He’d been lying about himself all this time…to come out would be to prove to everyone that he was a liar, dishonest, not to be trusted. How could he do that to the town?
How could he do it to himself?
“It’ll be expensive,” he told his dad.
“Damn right.”
“Too expensive. He’ll never go for it. He’ll sell…to the Mulgrews.”
His father might be rough around the edges, but at least he stopped himself from spitting on the floor in disgust, though Mason could tell he wanted to. “Goddamn Mulgrews. You tell them to keep their filthy hands off that property.”
He would’ve laughed, if his father wouldn’t have taken it the wrong way. Justin Fucking Mulgrew wouldn’t listen to anything Mason had to say, on this or any other subject. Please don’t take over the house you’ve had your eye on for your entire life.
Yeah, that would work out just fine.
He tapped his papers into a neat stack, and set them on the table, placing the calculator on top of them. “We have to face facts, Pop. The Mulgrews are going to get that land, and then they’ll be the richest people in the county again. They’ll have a firm grip on the town council and all the zoning permits, and be able to tell everybody what renovations they’re allowed to do. Which’ll mean…”
His dad stirred sugar into his coffee, a look of sheer hatred on his face. “Which’ll mean they put us out of business. Same thing they’ve been trying to do for years. Bastards. You sure you can’t convince that Cooper fella to keep the property? Hell, put him on a damn payment plan or something, so he doesn’t have to have the repair-money up front.”
“I never thought I’d see the day when Ralph Lee Tisdale would accept payments instead of cash on the barrel-head.”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” his father said. “Talk to the man. See what he says.”
Mason nodded, and waited for his dad to leave the room.
Texting was easier. Yup. Much easier. He sent Liam a message that the estimate was ready, and that they should set aside some time to talk it over.
Liam, naturally, would ask him to just name the figure via text. He could make his decision instantly, balking at the expense, and then be on his way out of town. Mason would never have to actually see Liam again.
Instead, Mason’s phone pinged, and he looked down at the message in horror:
Great news, Liam said. Let’s meet this evening and talk it over. Back to Toady’s? I’m craving another of those witbiers.
“I know this isn’t very business-like,” said Liam, gesturing around the bar, “but if you’d had the afternoon I had… It was a whirlwind, and I’m not sure inviting my family down made it any easier.”
“You… You could’ve brought them here,” said Mason. He’d just assumed they would be here, a kind of buffer between him and Liam. He hated to break the news to the man all by himself.
Hated to be the one to tell him.
Liam just shook his head and then swallowed his beer. “Nope. They couldn’t help me make a decision about the house. Maybe you can, though. Everything rests on your shoulders now.”
Mason grinned. He couldn’t help it. “Great, I love being responsible for other peoples’ life choices.”
“So how bad is it?”
“Okay, let me preface this estimate by saying—”
“Oh god, it’s
bad-bad.”
Why was this complicated? Why should he have any feelings about it at all? It was just a job. A job that had repercussions, sure, but in the end, it was work, it was numbers, it was a customer dealing with an estimate, and that was all. He could ignore the look of concern on Liam’s face. He could ignore whatever was going on in the man’s mind, that was causing him to sit so tensely on the other side of the table, gripping his beer so tight that if it had been in a thinner glass, it might’ve shattered.
Liam was wound up. Friendly, yes. Mason sensed Liam was never anything less than friendly. But he had the look of a man who had already been through trouble, and was wary of finding any more.
Something like the look Mason caught on his own face, when he saw himself in the mirror.
He had no right to want to comfort Liam. No right to know what had him so tightly wound, like an old-fashioned pocketwatch one turn away from breaking a spring. They weren’t friends. He couldn’t intrude in Liam’s life like that. That look of worry, that white-knuckled grip, they weren’t something Mason could do anything about.
Except to add to his trouble, he thought.
“It’s not as bad as it could be,” he said. “Let me tell you, I have seen some really falling-down houses in this town. Some of those old farm-houses that were thrown up practically overnight, standing up far longer than they were meant to, people buy them thinking they’ll be a cute little summer place, not realizing the thing was built by some poor farmer who just needed a roof over his head but could barely afford to feed his family, let alone quality construction materials. Those houses are in bad shape. Yours, though—”
“Mine,” whispered Liam. He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Mine. I can’t get over that part. Even though I’ve signed the papers, even though the keys are in my pocket. I’ve never had anything before. Not like this.”
You have so much already, Mason thought. A family that accepts you. A kid! A life where you don’t have to hide who and what you are.
He couldn’t say any of that.
What he could say was, “The house is solid. The foundations are in perfect shape. You’ve got a couple of places where the roof needs work, but there’s no water damage, no pests. Silas Cooper really put some money into this place, and it shows.”
Liam set down his beer. “Yeah, but you’re not here to tell me it just needs a new coat of paint and some floor polish.”
“No. That would be unrealistic. The electrical system is old. You put a modern microwave in that kitchen, you’re going to burn the place down. Plumbing is going to be a problem; the septic system is nothing but tree roots at this point.”
Liam groaned. “Okay, okay. I knew it was a mistake to think I could keep it—”
“Then there are the more decorative aspects. Several of the windows need new panes, and I have to assume you’ll want glass that matches the colors and quality currently in there. And out in the spring-house, the tile work—”
He paused when Liam held up his hand. “Give me the number, okay? Enough preparation.”
Wordlessly, Mason slid his official estimate over the table, and watched as Liam’s eyes widened.
“Holy shit,” he whispered, when he saw the final figure.
“I know,” said Mason. “I know. I’m sorry. Look, you could get second opinions. Maybe someone from out of town could do it more cheaply, maybe one of the big companies upstate, or—”
Liam finished his beer in a series of long, gulping swallows that left Mason breathless just seeing it. Watching his throat move, watching the pain on his face…
Stop. Stop thinking about that. This is absolutely pointless.
He watched Liam wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. Watched him set the glass down gently on its cardboard coaster.
“Tell me, Mason. What would you do?”
“Me? It’s not my decision.”
“No, I get that. Believe me, I know it’s all on my shoulders. But if the roles were reversed, if I put that estimate in front of you, what would you do?”
“It’s different,” said Mason. “I know what needs to happen in the house. I know how to fix it. I’d keep it, and just get things repaired slowly, over time. You know? I’d make a project of it. Might take me forever, but by the time I was done, I’d have a place I was really proud of.”
“But you couldn’t live in it. Not until you got the wiring and plumbing done.”
“Oh, I could live in it,” said Mason. “But I’m not a man with a young child.”
“Yeah, so you see my problem. Even if I knew how to fix any of it myself, I couldn’t live here, not with Roo, and there’d be nobody to watch Roo, and, and—”
“Understood.” The urge to reach across the table and take his hand again was so great, Mason had to fight himself not to do it this time.
Still, he couldn’t bear the idea that this might be it, that Liam was about to thank him for the estimate, leave the bar, and walk out of his life.
I never even had a chance, Mason thought. Then: But wait, I didn’t want a chance, I want him to leave, don’t I? I don’t want him here hovering nearby.
His heart sank when Liam folded up the estimate. “Well, thanks for this. I appreciate all the effort and thought you put into it.”
“Listen, one thing. And I have no right to ask this, I know that, I shouldn’t even bring it up—”
The look of relief on Liam’s face was as unexpected as it was inexplicable. “Yes. Sure, okay,” he said to Mason. “Let’s do it. I could actually use the break from my real life, and it wouldn’t have to mean anything—”
Mason sat there, silently staring at Liam. And as Liam appeared to realize that whatever he was agreeing to wasn’t what Mason was about to ask, his hand flew to his mouth.
“Oh my god, Mason, I’m sorry, what were you going to say?”
“What did you think I was going to say?”
“No, no, come on, just tell me.”
He could barely get the words out. “I… I was just going to ask you not to sell to the Mulgrews. I’m sure they’re going to make an offer, and—”
“Oh,” Liam said. His face was so red it practically glowed. “Oh, oh. The Mulgrews. God, no, that Justin guy is so pompous and full of himself, and clearly he has some kind of selfish plans—”
“What did you think I was asking?” Mason repeated. Now he was dying of curiosity, his whole existence seeming poised to hear the answer. If he was a hunting dog, his ears would be fully perked up to catch the sound of a rabbit’s heartbeat, he was just that sensitive right now, every nerve-ending on alert. Please tell me what I want to hear…even though I know I shouldn’t want to hear it.
“Seriously, it was nothing,” said Liam. He wouldn’t look Mason in the eye, though. Careful to avoid his gaze, he slipped the folded estimate into his pocket. “I should go. I guess I have a lot to think about.”
Stay. Come on, Mason, tell him to stick around, at least have another beer!
He couldn’t. Whatever he’d hoped Liam was about to say, he knew it wouldn’t really be what he hoped. They lived in different worlds. Hell, even if Liam had been interested, he was a settled man with a kid. He couldn’t just sleep around. He had a different kind of life than Mason did.
He’s not lonely, for one thing. He’s surrounded by people who love him.
Well, that wasn’t quite fair. Mason had his dad, he had his friends. Plenty of people in Superbia loved him.
But most of them loved a version of him that wasn’t real, the Straight Mason. Straight Mason was a ghost, a shadow, a trick of the light, but people believed the optical illusion because he’d never given them a reason not to.
And that was a lonely place to be.
“I’ll walk you to your car,” he told Liam.
11
Liam
It wasn’t possible to die of embarrassment, was it? People threw caution to the wind all the time. They said things that they shouldn’t, and they survived, they recovered, right?
Liam felt like he couldn’t drive away from this town fast enough, after almost propositioning Mason.
Of course, it wasn’t really his fault. He’d thought Mason was saying, as long as they’d never see one another again anyway, why not sleep together?
Which nobody in the history of real life had ever said, and he’d clearly been watching too much gay porn, because that’s not how things happened. Yes, the world was full of random hook-ups, but they never came about like this.
Certainly not with a guy like Mason.
Mason was quiet on the way to Liam’s car. Clearly he felt chastened by the news he’d dropped on Liam.
The estimate was the most exorbitant thing he’d ever seen, short of his student loans. If he had that kind of money, he could’ve put a down payment on a condo back at the city, settled into a neighborhood with good schools, instead of constantly worrying about the future.
It had cemented his decision to leave, to sell, to never look back.
“Nice to have met you, Mason,” he said, putting out his hand. “I appreciate all the help.”
Mason’s hand was warm and dry, strong, with a grip that suggested protection and steadiness. “Sorry you have to leave,” he said. “It’s a good town, it really is. You would’ve liked it here, I think. But I understand.”
They shook hands, but then neither of them seemed to be in a hurry to let go.
“I love the house so much,” Liam said. “I know it’s ridiculous, I know it’s not something I can have…”
“Sometimes love at first sight is a thing,” Mason said. “Doesn’t mean it’s simple, doesn’t even mean it’s possible to do anything about it. But yeah, it’s not ridiculous that you fell for the house, not at all. I did too. Hell, I wish I could be the one to buy it from you. Not that I’m trying to talk you into anything! I could never afford it.”
Liam couldn’t help but notice that their hands had not yet parted. “Listen.”
“Yeah.”
“What I was going to ask you earlier.” His voice was as steady as he could make it. Practically emotionless, so as not to show the fear he felt, the risk he was taking.
