According to Design

by Nicole Dennis

  “What? Totally bypass the sofa? No, he wouldn’t.”

  “Do you wanna test him?”

  Reece grinned. “Never. Especially if he has a butcher knife in hand.”

  “Then get on inside. See Collin next,” Wyatt said.

  Reece gave him a quiet squeeze on his arm then entered the gallery.

  “We should get inside and find a spot,” Sully said.

  “I’ll see all of you at the Charm within a few days or weeks. It depends on when I finish the projects for Samuel,” Wyatt said.

  “Whatever you do will finish things off. We’ll wrap up everything around November twentieth. That’s when I’m expecting the final inspection done and signed off for occupation,” Sully said. “I kind of need the windows in the front doors to get approval. Hint. Hint.”

  “I know. I’ll be there before then.”

  “If you can hurry up on the interior window, I would appreciate it,” Sully said. He clasped hands with Wyatt once more then escorted Chandler inside.

  “I need to figure out the final design,” Wyatt muttered and dragged fingers through his hair. He picked up the glass and finished off the water.

  When he turned around again, he found Dakota and Samuel standing there. Samuel was pale with shadows under his eyes, but he stood tall. Dakota wrapped his arm tight around Samuel’s waist to support him.

  “Dakota, Samuel, hello. I didn’t expect either one of you after our talk, Dakota,” Wyatt said. He shook hands with Samuel but hugged Dakota on his free side so as not to disturb his hold on Samuel. “Samuel, it’s wonderful to see you on your feet. Dakota explained what happened.”

  Samuel gave him a small nod. “I insisted on being here for everyone. I fought all day with Dakota and took the nap he required as part of his list of conditions.” He rested his head on Dakota’s shoulder.

  Dakota dropped a kiss on Samuel’s head. “I’m wrapped around his finger and a total mush. Still, if you get tired, we’re outta here, hon.”

  “I know. I know. I’m not missing your brother playing.” Samuel poked Dakota’s ribs with a finger.

  “Where is Cal?” Wyatt leaned to the side.

  Dakota looked over his shoulder. “There he is. Cal, move your scrawny butt.”

  “I’m coming,” his brother called back. The youngest Mitchell brother strolled up the sidewalk, holding the handle of a battered and sticker-covered guitar case.

  Wyatt checked out the younger Mitchell, since it’d been a few months since they’d last seen each other.

  California Mitchell wore his honey-gold hair in a long surfer-type style. The loose curled ends brushed his shoulders and some lifted with the light breeze. His midnight-blue eyes seemed darker in the early sunset but suited the singer’s style. He’d chosen to wear a pair of dark pants with sleek black boots and had paired it with a deep blue button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal the swirling Celtic tattoos covering his forearms. He wore a silver and blue vest over the shirt, but left it unbuttoned. When he reached them, Cal set the case on the ground and wrapped his arms around Wyatt. He was a few inches shorter than Wyatt, but it was a good strong grasp.

  “Damn, it’s good to see you again, Cal.” Wyatt hugged his friend back. “I’m sorry I didn’t pick you up.”

  Cal stepped back and shrugged. “It’s okay. Mal came to get me since Dakota wanted to stay with Samuel. How are you holding up?” His voice was a vibrant tenor tone that spoke of depth and brilliance in his singing voice.

  Part of Cal’s style and tone reminded Wyatt of several singers. One of them was a folk singer and songwriter called Shawn Mullins. The other two were Edwin McCain and Matt Nathanson.

  “I’m holding together. I’m seeing someone new and he’s an absolute sweetheart. He’s been supportive through all of this,” Wyatt said, happy to speak of his blossoming relationship with Keegan.

  “Is he here?”

  “Should be here soon. He had to finish up some work at the precinct. He’s a crime scene investigator but also a teacher.”

  “Intriguing combo. I hope to meet this new fella of yours,” Cal said.

  “How about you? Anyone on the horizon for you?”

  “Since I left the bastard, nope. I’m free and enjoying the single life. It’s California and I’m the Cal-man.”

  Wyatt chuckled and hugged his younger friend again. There was a fourteen year difference between them, but neither one gave a shit. Patrick and Jeremy were in between their ages and helped to round out the group.

  “You’re still crazy,” Wyatt said.

  “Goes along with the music, sun and surf. I’m a free and easy spirit who rarely deals with reality. I don’t do adulting. It’s been sucky, so I leave it alone.”

  “Are you ready to play some music?”

  “Yes, I want to do this little bit for Patrick. Can I go in and set up?”

  Wyatt checked out something inside the gallery and nodded. “Yeah, Marissa has a stool, microphone and speaker set up on the small stage. It’s opposite the stand with the urn.”

  “I’ll check it out. I can at least strum some chords and fill the quiet until we’re ready to begin,” Cal said.

  “Thank you for doing this for Patrick and Jeremy,” Wyatt said.

  “I wish it was under better circumstances,” Cal said. He lifted his guitar case then entered the gallery. He stopped when he glanced to the side where the simple buffet table was set. He grinned at his older brother. “That cutie from your place is here.”

  “I told you before, brat, leave Dorian alone. He’s too young and naive for you,” Dakota warned. “I don’t want you pissing off one of the finest young chefs I have the pleasure of training.” He stepped close enough to smack his little brother on the back of the head.

  “Ow! Hey…” Cal said.

  “Leave him alone. If I see you sniffing around him, I’ll kick your ass,” Dakota said.

  “You know that makes him even more irresistible to me. He’s like a little lost puppy the way he watches me.”

  “Stop, not this one. You don’t deserve him.”

  “I’m your brother—”

  Dakota pointed his finger at Cal’s face. “You don’t deserve him. Not how you’re behaving now. You’re footloose and irresponsible. That boy has been taking care of his sick mama since he was ten. He has to watch her die a little every day, but he still comes through with a happy, lighthearted smile and attitude. If you screw that up, I swear I’ll kick your ass.”

  Wyatt and a surprised Samuel watched Cal’s eyes widen. Oh, he heard his older brother’s words this time.

  “Do you hear me, California Redding Mitchell?” Dakota demanded, using Cal’s full name to get his attention.

  “Loud and clear, big brother. Damn, you didn’t have to use the full name shit. I got the message,” Cal said.

  “States! They named all of you after the States. That’s the secret,” Samuel crowed.

  Dakota winced at the revelation. “Shit,” he muttered.

  Wyatt lifted a hand to cover his mouth to hide his laughter. Samuel continued to tease and poke Dakota for the meaning behind his name.

  “State and name of city or town of birth if you want all of it,” Cal said.

  “Cal!” Dakota snapped and smacked his brother’s head again.

  “What? He’ll find out,” Cal said.

  “So… Spill, Cal. What’s his middle name?” Samuel asked.

  Cal moved his gaze between an inquisitive Samuel and a growly Dakota. “Umm. Sorry. I appreciate not having any knives poking out of my body. I fear him more than you.” He pointed at his brother, who rolled his eyes.

  “I’ll get it out of you,” Samuel said, wagging a finger at Dakota.

  Dakota lifted an eyebrow. He returned his attention to Cal. “This doesn’t get you out of trouble if you go near Dorian.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Cal said. Without another word, he went further inside but straight to the stage.

  Dakota blew out a long breath.
/>   “Other than the whole name, I didn’t miss out on all the tension happening between you. What was all that about?” Samuel placed a hand on Dakota’s back.

  “Since he left his ex, he’s been completely irresponsible. You heard what he said to Wyatt. He doesn’t want to deal with reality and life. I can’t let him hurt Dorian. Dorian’s been through too much and doesn’t need a broken heart caused by my brother. Plus, Dorian’s too young. He just turned eighteen.” Dakota massaged his forehead. “I don’t know what to do with him.”

  “Just what you’re doing. I’m sorry, but I know he needs to be here to pay his respects,” Wyatt said.

  “It’s not your fault. It’s on Cal and he better straighten his ass out.” Dakota shook his head again. “Come on, let’s go inside and find a seat. I want to keep an eye on Dorian.”

  Samuel touched Wyatt’s arm to help him end the conversation. He allowed Dakota to escort him into the gallery.

  Wyatt dragged fingers through his hair, wondering what kind of trouble he’d helped to cause. This wasn’t quite the beginning he’d planned for the memorial.

  * * * *

  The sun was in the middle of its slow descent over the bay. The majority of the guests had arrived and roamed around the gallery. On the stage, Cal strummed his guitar through numerous tunes but didn’t sing.

  Jeremy appeared around the corner, dressed in a black pinstripe suit, deep shadows under his eyes. His suit wasn’t fully pressed and polished. It looked like someone else had chosen his outfit and fixed him. He shuffled along the sidewalk, as if exhausted and hunched over with pain. Supporting him with an arm wrapped around Jeremy’s waist, Ethan Mandelbaum walked by his side. Older than Jeremy and Wyatt by a few years, Ethan was a brilliant advertising agent. He’d grown beyond a small firm in Pensacola, where he’d lived while dating Wyatt, then moved into a larger international firm in Manhattan. Although they’d had a wonderful relationship, Wyatt and Ethan had decided to break off and part as friends. It’d been five years since he’d seen Ethan, but now Wyatt had someone else in his life.

  Once he’d heard of Patrick’s loss, Ethan had been on the very next plane and was staying in Jeremy’s home for as long as Jeremy needed him. Wyatt didn’t know if Jeremy would still be alive if Ethan hadn’t been there. Raised within a strict Jewish family, they had the similar dark coloring of their heritage. When both brothers had come out in their own way, their parents had disowned them. While Jeremy had kept his religion, Ethan had ended up walking away from Judaism during his college years.

  When they reached the studio, Wyatt held out his arms. Jeremy moved into them and let Wyatt embrace him tight and hard. His arms wound around Wyatt’s waist. Wyatt looked over Jeremy’s head to meet Ethan’s sad gaze. Both of them shared their worry over Jeremy. Wyatt wrapped his fingers around Jeremy’s neck while he stared into those golden hazel eyes. The deep cocoa brown hair was in some disarray, not as sleek and gleaming as usual, but a little duller.

  “I’m so happy to see you up and about, my friend. How are you holding up? I know you’re tired of everyone asking you the question, but we’re all concerned about you. Talk to me,” Wyatt said.

  “I’m hanging in there, but missing him. It’s quiet without him. Even at the end, at least I could watch him sleep,” Jeremy said. “There are times I walk to the bedroom, expecting to find him sleeping on the bed, and collapse when I don’t see him. I break down all over again. Those drugs were supposed to work. They should have helped him rebound from the damn influenza and stabilized his T-cells. Why didn’t they work?”

  “No one knows. Not even the doctors,” Wyatt said, trying to crack through Jeremy’s insistence Patrick could have responded to medication and lived. It was this insistence that was wearing Jeremy down, not letting him grieve. “Patrick was so worn down and in pain. It was his time.”

  “Fuck time. He needed more time with me. I wanted to see him in his regular spot from the doorway. Here’s not there and I can’t sleep in that room. It’s closed to everyone. I’m on the sofa, with Ethan in the guest room.”

  “You need to learn how to live without him. All of your routines revolved around him and his care. He wouldn’t want you mourning him forever. He’d want you to live and love again.”

  “I know, but there’s no other way. He’s my life. The drugs should have kept him with me. I need to know why,” Jeremy said and shook his head. “It’s…hard.”

  “As for the room, well, give yourself time. You’ll know when it’s right to move back in there and figure out where to place Patrick’s things. Okay?”

  After a nod, Jeremy licked his lower lip and looked beyond Wyatt at the studio. “Thank you for doing all this. I’m sorry I didn’t allow it sooner. I wasn’t ready. I’m still not ready, but his mother wants him to rest.”

  “I loved Patrick as a kid brother, teaching him to hone his craft and talent. I would do anything for the both of you. It was a pleasure working with Marissa and Erin to create this special event. Erin’s right, Patrick needs to rest and enjoy his afterlife. He earned it with all of the suffering from the disease. You helped him earn it by loving him with everything inside of you. Let him fly, my friend.”

  Jeremy shook his head. “His memorial didn’t belong in some unknown funeral home.” He stepped back and stared over his shoulder. “Is it okay seeing Ethan again?”

  Wyatt glanced at Ethan and caught the glimpse of a Bluetooth device in his ear. Ethan adjusted his dark-rimmed glasses, waved his free hand at Wyatt then returned his concentration to the caller.

  “We’re doing okay. We parted as friends.” Wyatt pointed his thumb toward Ethan. “What’s up with that?”

  “He’s in the middle of several projects with his advertising agency. Multiple deadlines coming around. He’s required to meet and maintain his position. Ethan took a big leap to leave his home and rush down to be with me. I don’t want him to lose a job he loves. He’s been my rock. I wouldn’t get up some days if it wasn’t for him. Either way, I don’t care if he has to break away to work crazy hours. He chose to be here with me, unlike the rest of our family,” Jeremy said.

  “Sorry about that,” Ethan said as he returned to them. He stepped close and pulled Wyatt in a gentle embrace. “Hello again, Wyatt. You’re looking well.”

  “Same to you, Ethan. Had some business to handle?”

  “Finalizing a project for Nike.”

  “Sounds like a big one.”

  “It is, but not even for them would I stay in Manhattan. This is where I need to be, by Jeremy’s side. I couldn’t be anywhere else.”

  “It’s comforting to know you’re staying with Jeremy,” Wyatt said.

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Ethan said as he wrapped his arm around Jeremy’s shoulders.

  “Do you want me to escort you inside?” Wyatt asked. “I saved a few chairs up front for you.”

  “Ethan and I will make our way inside,” Jeremy said. “I’m sure everyone will stop me at one point or another.”

  “Collin is inside and can escort you straight to your seats if you wish.”

  “Right, your nephew is staying here. How is he?”

  “We had a rough start, but we’re settling into a new pattern,” Wyatt said and looked over his shoulder. “Collin, could you come over here?”

  Collin excused himself from another couple then walked over.

  “Collin, this is Jeremy and Ethan Mandelbaum,” Wyatt introduced.

  “Hello. I’m so sorry about your loss. I heard Patrick was an awesome fella to hang out with,” Collin said.

  A bare nudge of a grin curled Jeremy’s mouth. “He was quite the character. It’s good to see you again, Collin. Ethan and I met you when you were little. It seems you grew into those gangly limbs.”

  “Dad thinks I’m going to shoot up a few more inches and challenge Uncle Wyatt for tallest guy in the family.”

  “Still a shrimp,” Wyatt teased and nudged Collin with his elbow. “Collin, please escort Jerem
y and Ethan inside. I reserved the chairs in front of the urn for them. Try and keep interruptions to a minimum this go around.”

  “Sure, I know which ones you mean,” Collin said.

  Wyatt nodded and listened as his nephew took over in a calm, gentleman-like fashion. He watched his best friend step inside after pausing for a moment.

  Jeremy stopped and looked back at Wyatt. “What’s Cal doing here?”

  “I called him and told him about Patrick. He flew here from California to play for the memorial. He has a song for Patrick.”

  Jeremy almost collapsed on himself at the sight of their friend. “Unbelievable.”

  “It’s the same for everyone who loves Patrick. Go on inside. I know Cal wants to talk to you before we begin,” Wyatt encouraged.

  Pulling in a deep breath, Jeremy straightened his shoulders as if to brace himself for the onslaught and followed his brother and Collin.

  “You can do this, Jeremy,” Wyatt whispered to send strength to his friend.

  “Wyatt?”

  At the soft tone, Wyatt turned. Keegan stood in front of him, dressed in a subdued charcoal suit and dove-gray shirt with a matching tie. It was almost the exact opposite of Wyatt’s suit.

  “Keegan, you made it.”

  “Of course I made it. I wanted to be here for you,” Keegan said. “Is this a bad idea?” He watched Jeremy and Ethan walking away. “Who were those men who hugged you?”

  “The shorter one is Jeremy Mandelbaum, Patrick’s partner, and the taller one is his older brother, Ethan. Umm, Ethan and I were in a long relationship, but he moved to Manhattan almost five years ago.”

  “Oh. Is everything okay with you two?”

  “Yes, we’re fine. He knows I found someone else. Someone special to my heart. I’m happy you’re here,” Wyatt said as he took Keegan’s hands in his and gave them a gentle squeeze. “I could use a shoulder of support.”

  Keegan moved closer, released one of his hands then lifted it to rest his fingers against Wyatt’s cheek. “Are you getting any sleep?”

  “Not much. A lot of weight on my shoulders. A lot of memories.”

  “It’ll get better.”

  “I hope so. Thank you for coming,” Wyatt said. “Appears everyone is here. I should get things started.”