Thinking of You

by Rachel Kane

  But as it turned out, Cam couldn’t take his eyes off the man. I saw him turn in that direction again, and set my menu down.

  I snapped my fingers. “Oh, hey, over here, look, it’s your new husband! Remember me?”

  Cam looked back over at me, his face troubled. “There’s a much greater crime here than I realized,” he said.

  “Look, I don’t care if he’s stealing a million dollars from the hotel. This is our honeymoon, Cam. You should relax and enjoy yourself, not stress yourself out playing detective.”

  “No, you’re right,” he said, and lifted his glass of water to his lips. “It’s silly. I’m no detective. It’s just…”

  And he looked back at them again!

  I rolled my eyes, but really, what could you do? This was Cam, and his uncontrollable imagination was part of what I loved most about him. So while he studied the couple, I studied him, loving each little worry-line that had formed on his brow.

  Then he surprised me. “Will you excuse me for a moment?” he said.

  “Seriously? Cam, you can’t go over there and accuse him of something.”

  “I’ll just be five minutes. Promise.”

  Instead of approaching their table, though, he left the restaurant. I suppose I was relieved by that. The last thing we needed was some weird confrontation with strangers. But now I was gripped by curiosity. What had Cam seen? Where was he going?

  I told the waiter to give us a little more time. Then I buttered a piece of bread, but honestly was losing my appetite, wondering what on earth Cam was up to.

  He finally returned, but instead of walking back to me, he went up to the red-faced man.

  I found myself gripping the edge of my table. What are you doing?

  The man grew even redder, when he realized who Cam was, from earlier. But Cam was smiling, wearing a face I recognized from his public appearances. He was putting on a little show for this couple.

  The dour-faced woman broke into a hesitant smile, which then broadened into a real, full smile as Cam produced a small bottle.

  A bottle with, if I was seeing it correctly, seven sides.

  The red-faced man was nervous. I could see him stammering, but Cam patted him on the shoulder. After a few more words, he left the table and returned to me.

  “There,” he said. “Now you’ve got me back.”

  “Do you mind explaining—”

  “Wait, I thought you wanted my full attention? No more explaining, right? No more talk about our friend over there?”

  I had to admit, my curiosity was too great now to let it go. “Yes, yes, okay, I know you’re dying to tell me about it.”

  He laughed, a sound so bright I almost kissed him again. “You’re dying to hear about it.”

  “Good, we’re both dying. Now spill.”

  Cam glanced around and leaned in. “I did something very bad earlier. I knew he had stolen that perfume, but I thought he was just a klepto. It didn’t make any sense to me, any more than the knife had.

  “Except that then it all clicked. When had he stolen the knife? That was more important than what he’d stolen. I mean, it’s a butter-knife, there’s no monetary value to it really, so this was a man who just needed to steal something to relieve his stress. And then I realized, he’d been talking to his wife before that, but she had gotten up and left the restaurant in a huff.”

  “Marriage troubles?” I asked.

  “Exactly. And then it all fell into place. Why would an unhappy couple come to a resort like this, except to try to patch up their relationship? But it wasn’t working, and Mr. Red Face was getting stressed out by it. He didn’t know what to do.”

  “Oh god,” I said, suddenly realizing. “He stole the perfume for her.”

  “And I had stolen it from him,” agreed Cam. “Thinking he was just a little thief, thinking I was doing justice. I’m not sure he realized I was the one who took it, but you saw how glum they were tonight. I realized he’d planned to give it to her tonight, a token of his love, of wanting to work on their relationship…and I had ruined his plan.”

  “So you went to the boutique…”

  “And paid an obscene amount of money for a very small amount of perfume, yes. I wonder if that’s tax-deductible? Then I told him I was sorry, but I thought he’d dropped it in the bathroom earlier, and I’d been trying to keep an eye out for him to give it back. His wife saw the gift, and…well, see for yourself.”

  The disappointment and sourness from a few moments ago had vanished from the couple’s table. The red-faced man had a bashful smile on his face, and she was talking amiably. Their hands were entwined on the table.

  “So I take it we’re not going to call hotel security on him,” I said.

  “I think the only thing he’s stealing right now, is her heart,” said Cam. He turned back to me. “But now, case closed. I’m all yours. Tell me all about daffodils and chrysanthemums.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t want to talk about anything right now. I just want to look at you.”

  “Aw, c’mon, stop.”

  “You’re the strangest, most interesting, most beautiful man I’ve ever met.”

  “Because I let a thief go?”

  “Because you see the world in a whole different way than I do. A way that’s a mystery to me. I think that’s what I love most about you. This sense that I know you so well…and yet, on some level, I’m still trying to figure you out.”

  “Let me know when you do.”

  We all have secrets. It’s part of what makes us human, this ability to hide parts of our souls from the rest of the world, and sometimes even from ourselves.

  But love makes you want to reveal all. Love makes you give these secrets over, like a gift. You want to be discovered. You want to be understood.

  As his hands crossed the table and took mine, I stared into Cam’s eyes and felt his curiosity turn to me, felt him study my expression, felt him know me.

  It was the most incredible feeling of all. It felt like being found.

  Drawn To You

  1

  Prologue: One Last Summer

  The dragonfly shone gold-green in the sun, a polished gemstone beneath wings too fast to see. It alighted on a strand of lake-grass long enough to get its bearings, and to draw one strange foot across its face.

  “He looks bashful,” said Micah, lying on the ground near the insect.

  Theo was silent. He got this way around anything beautiful, his eyes wide. Micah knew not to say too much to him in those moments. He was studying, taking it in.

  Micah wondered, not for the first time, what it was like to see the world through Theo’s eyes. To see it as a painter, as someone driven to match the colors and shadows and light of the real world, onto canvas.

  It obviously took a lot of staring, a lot of silence. He wanted to reach out, to brush the dragonfly with his finger, to see if it felt as metallic as it looked. As though it had heard him, it launched itself upward, buzzing wings carrying it off.

  At least he had Theo back now. “I wish you’d look at me the way you look at bugs,” Micah said with a smile.

  Theo laughed and pushed him until he was on his back in the soft sand next to the lake. Beside them was a blanket with a drawing pad and little sticks of charcoal, all scattered amongst wineglasses and fruit. “I wish you had easier colors to capture! Why are you so damn hard to paint? Stop getting a tan!”

  Micah leaned up and kissed him. “Stop taking all summer to finish painting me.”

  Theo rolled off and lay beside him. “I’ve got to finish. There’s so little time.”

  “Oh, don’t say that.”

  “It’s true. I can’t even look at a calendar anymore, it’s hanging over my head. Remember when we were little, and it seemed like summer would last forever? It was always such a surprise when it ended and we had to go back to school.”

  Micah settled his head against Theo’s chest. “We’ll survive,” he said. “We’ve made it this far together. It’s not th
e first time we’ve been at separate schools.”

  “Yes, but four thousand miles apart? I’m worried. And we’re going to be so busy with college—”

  Theo’s hand found Micah’s. Their fingers entwined.

  “I’ll always have time for you,” said Micah.

  “Even when you’re going across the country to sue endangered species?”

  “I’m not suing the endangered species, I’m suing for the—oh. Yeah. You were joking. But look, you’re going way further away than I am. Paris is so far. Why don’t you come with me instead? What’s holding you back? Grab your easel and brushes and just come with me.”

  Theo sighed. “You know I would. But I can’t throw away this opportunity. I can’t believe my parents agreed to let me study in Paris.”

  “You should never have told them you wanted to be a painter.”

  “I know. Once my folks start to help, there’s no holding them back. I’m so nervous, though.”

  It was foolish to even ask Theo to come. Who on earth would turn down Paris? Micah couldn’t even pronounce the name of the school Theo had been accepted to, but knew it was old. Ancient. It was the chance of a lifetime for someone like him.

  Micah picked up one of the charcoal sticks, brushing his thumb against it. It was so soft, and left a deep black streak against his skin. “I’m just surprised they agreed to it. You always said they were going to force you to join the family business.”

  “Oh, sure, they would’ve loved that, Dad especially. It took them a long time to come around to the idea of me being an artist. But hey, they still have my brother, right? It was a hard conversation though. Oh, you’d have plenty of time to paint your pictures if you joined us, don’t you want something solid and stable in your life?”

  “I’m solid,” said Micah. “I’m stable.”

  Theo shook his head. “You’re a dreamer, that’s what you are. That’s what my dad says. He says your head is in the clouds.”

  “After college, I want to go to law school. That’s not exactly flighty, you know.”

  “You know what he means. You’re a big idealist, big dreams for the future. Saving the world and all the small creatures in it.”

  “Nothing wrong with dreams,” said Micah. “You just have to back them up with hard work.”

  It was so difficult to talk about, and had only gotten harder as summer had worn on. They could hit it from an angle, strike a glancing blow, but to Micah it seemed impossible to talk directly about what might happen next.

  What happens to two boyfriends who are suddenly half a planet apart?

  This might be their last summer together, and that was so unfair.

  They had to plan. They had to decide something, now. Or this thing that had developed out of their friendship would just fade.

  Hadn’t they known each other too long for that? Hadn’t they been part of each other’s lives for too many years to let things fade?

  They’d known each other forever, it felt like. Micah’s mother had come to work for the Harrisons when he was five. Back then he didn’t understand what being a housekeeper meant, didn’t understand why his mother suddenly wore starched dresses every day, her hair up in a tidy bun, no makeup on her face, no jewelry but that one old ring.

  What he did understand was that they’d moved up in the world, into a cottage near a huge house—back then he’d thought of it as a castle—where there lived a shy little boy named Theo.

  Summers were their time together. Once the air became crisp, and the lake started its morning with a thick fog forming over it, it was time for Micah to brush his hair and get his bag so that the driver could take him to the bus stop every morning. He went to the local public school, while Theo went…elsewhere. When he was young, he couldn’t quite understand where Theo lived during the school year, nor why he was always wearing a uniform during his brief visits back home.

  Years passed, as they will do, and the two boys grew into tall adolescents. At some point, they traded shyness; Theo grew thick and lanky, with an insolent ease about him, while Micah felt like a thin white spider, doing secret push-ups in his room to try to get bigger.

  And then?

  Then last summer had happened.

  A chance conversation, a hint of interest, sharing secrets. They’d called it experimenting. They’d tried to convince one another it was just for fun, just trying out the things they would like to do to girls.

  Until finally they could no longer keep up the pretense. A lifetime of friendship solidified into something deeper, something beautiful.

  Micah could still remember the afternoon when it all came together, when suddenly everything clicked and made sense: Can I…can I try painting you? Theo asking in that hesitant voice.

  Now they had graduated high school. They were adults. That meant this was real, the thing between them. It was worth something, and had to be held onto, had to be fought for.

  Yet it still felt like they were kids, at the end of vacation, waiting to be packed up and taken back to their normal lives.

  Theo’s family was generous. There was no debate about Micah’s future. They would pay for him to go to state college. His mother had been grateful and relieved. Micah had been thrilled…until he found out where Theo was going.

  There was an acceptance letter to the school back in the caretaker’s cottage where he and his mother lived. The date on the letter, the date of his orientation, had started a countdown in his head. Had made him realize just how important it was to try to convince Theo to change his mind, to forgo the incredible offer of art school in Paris.

  Not that he had real hopes of that. Who turns down an offer like that? Yet he’d never forgive himself if he didn’t ask. But that meant speaking directly. Not hinting, not tip-toeing around their families’ many wishes for them.

  “Forget your plans,” Micah said. “Come with me.”

  “I know, okay? I know. But the Ecole Supérieure, Micah!”

  “Your dream isn’t to go to a particular school, it’s to be a painter. You can do that anywhere!” He heard the pleading tone in his voice…and the helplessness in it as well.

  Theo shook his head. “I know. But who’s going to support my painting while I learn? You?”

  “You can get a job!”

  With fingers touching Micah’s worried brow, Theo said, “So your suggestion is that I flip burgers, instead of living in France on my parents’ dime?”

  Micah sat up in frustration. “But we’ll never see each other. Theo, if you don’t come with me—”

  “I know,” he said. “I know. But we can still talk every day. I’ll buy you a cell phone, one with a camera, so we can send pictures to each other. And I’ll be home on holidays, and summers, and…and… Damn it, Micah, don’t look at me like that! You keep asking me to stay, but what about you? Why don’t you come with me?”

  “Well, I don’t speak French, for one thing. And I don’t think your parents are going to pay for that. My mom certainly couldn’t. Besides, I’ve got it all planned, college, law school, my environmental law career. And… Oh god, it’s awful. I can’t live without you, Theo.”

  There. That was as blunt as he could put it. He’d hinted around at it all summer, but there it was.

  I can’t live without you.

  Theo reached out for him. Micah turned away…but not too far away. Theo’s fingers touched his bare shoulder, traced down to the muscles of his spine.

  “I love you, Micah. We can make this work. Can’t we?”

  “We might as well be traveling to two different planets.”

  “Come on, don’t be like that. You’re breaking my damn heart. We will be together someday, I promise.”

  The certainty in his voice, and the knowledge that he was hurting as much as Micah was, made all the difference.

  Micah turned back towards him, allowed Theo to take him in his arms. “I can’t lose you, I can’t,” Micah murmured against Theo’s neck.

  Lips met sun-warmed skin, and the l
ate-summer air began to work its magic on them. Hands tangled in hands, in hair, kisses becoming more violent, full of an urgent need that could not be denied, yet softened somehow by the heat that sapped their strength. It was a summer of lazy love affairs, of quiet stares and quiet gasps.

  “Oh!” said the voice from nearby, sending an electric charge through them both. They pulled apart, hands slipping out from under waistbands, legs quickly crossing to hide the growing evidence of desire.

  “My god, you two,” said Val, Theo’s older brother. “I don’t mean to interrupt.”

  Theo, realizing it was just his brother, relaxed, but wrinkled his nose. “And yet, you’ve interrupted.”

  The stricken look on Val’s face let them know it wasn’t time for jokes. This wasn’t an accident, stumbling across them.

  “Val? Is something wrong?”

  Theo’s brother, so stolid and dull, an old man before his time, looked more emotional than Micah had ever seen him. He wouldn’t look directly at them, averting his eyes. Color filled his cheeks.

  At first it seemed he was just embarrassed. Everyone knew that Micah and Theo were best friends. Nobody knew there was more to it than that. Walking onto this scene must have startled Val deeply.

  But no, this wasn’t embarrassment. There were tears at the corners of Val’s eyes.

  “Theo, can you come up to the house? It’s Dad.”

  “What’s wrong? Val, is—”

  “Can you please just come?”

  Both the young men got to their feet. Micah took Theo’s hand. His right hand, streaked with charcoal.

  He felt fear in the pit of his stomach. Theo felt it too. Neither of them had ever seen Val look like this.

  Hand in hand they approached Val, but Val shook his head.

  “I’m sorry, Micah, but could you let Theo come alone? It’s… I’m so sorry. It’s family business.”

  Family business.

  That had always been the signal that Micah should leave the room, should go home, should politely excuse himself from a conversation. It made sure he never felt at home in the Harrison household, the house his mother had worked in for nearly twenty years, the people he saw nearly every day of his life.