According to Design

by Nicole Dennis

  “I’ll follow you inside,” Keegan said.

  Wyatt entered the gallery, proud to have Keegan at his side. He handed Keegan a card and brochure and led him down the aisle. There were two free spots at the end of the first row and he gestured for Keegan to take the other one. He cleared his throat, smoothed down his coat, and stepped toward the stage where Cal waited. He turned to the highlighted urn and memory board. With a kiss on his fingers, he brushed them against Patrick’s portrait.

  Cal strummed a few fast, higher notes to get everyone’s attention and send them back to their seats.

  “Hello, everyone, and thank you for coming here today. We’re here not to mourn or be sad, but to celebrate a wonderful life filled with art, friendship, zaniness and love. We’re here to celebrate the life of Patrick Robert McGowan, son of Erin McGowan, a true Irishman to the end, lover and partner to Jeremy Mandelbaum, friend to almost everyone in our small town, and a brilliant artist. He was taken from our lives far too soon,” Wyatt said and paused for a moment. He took a sip from the water bottle hidden under the podium. He glanced to Jeremy and Erin. He finished with a glance to Cal then continued speaking about his friend. “Before others step up to speak about our friend, we have a special moment. Our friend and a wonderful musician has come a long way to help celebrate Patrick’s life. He wishes to play a couple of songs dedicated to Patrick. Please welcome to the stage, Cal Mitchell.”

  There was a gentle round of applause as Wyatt moved to his seat. Keegan held his hand and Wyatt squeezed his fingers back.

  Cal adjusted the microphone. “Good evening, everyone. Like many others, I have crazy stories about my time with Patrick, and sad ones. The best story comes from a very special weekend. It included one too many rounds of Guinness and a forty-eight-hour marathon of Uno. Lemme tell you, when Patrick got his Irish up, that boy could create some pretty inventive cursing when it came to picking up those cards and being unable to put one on the discard pile. My stomach ached from laughing the entire weekend.”

  “Oh hell, that was a wild weekend,” Jeremy said, agreeing with Cal as others chuckled from the memories.

  Cal pointed to Jeremy and nodded. “I’m amazed any one of us remember anything about the weekend.”

  More chuckles rose from the crowd.

  “Anyway, I chose these songs to play, written by one of my favorite folksingers, Shawn Mullins, since they reminded me the most of Patrick’s life. The first one is Shimmer and the second one is Patrick’s Song. I hope you enjoy both of them,” Cal said and adjusted the guitar on his lap. He strummed the first few chords and slipped into the opening bars. Soon he joined the guitar with his rich tenor voice as he sang the lyrics about a young man born to shine, shimmer and come to life. When he finished Shimmer, he flowed into the second song about an artist gone way too soon from life.

  After the music, and throughout the evening, Cal wasn’t the only one to talk about the friendly artist everyone adored. Plenty stepped up to speak about a moment with Patrick, a crazy conversation or adventure, and love. Always about love. There were tears, but the night was filled with laughter as the memories flowed and filled the night.

  It was the perfect celebration for their lost zany Irishman.

  Chapter Ten

  With the heartfelt speeches and beautiful acoustic music finished, Keegan watched while some guests studied the beautiful urn and the remainder of Patrick’s works. Since Wyatt continued to speak with Erin and Jeremy, Keegan headed to where drinks and food waited. He noticed the singer, Cal, spoke with a couple of the locals, but part of his attention was off to the side.

  He checked out the two younger men standing behind the table, plating differing things for the guests and handing them across. He remembered seeing both of them at the Charm when he’d arrived to collect evidence, but they hadn’t exchanged names.

  The shorter one, with hair colored a deep cherry red, dressed in a dark polo shirt with an embroidered Southern Delights logo above the pocket, looked over and grinned. “Hello. I know your face. Didn’t I see you at the Charm? Dorian, don’t you remember seeing him?”

  The younger male glanced over from where he continued to stare at Cal in between helping others. In a half-distracted fashion, he checked out Keegan and nodded. “Yes, he was here to check out the old hidden room when we lost power.” He returned his attention to watch Cal talk with others.

  “Exactly.” The other guy snapped his fingers and motioned his hand toward Keegan. “Isn’t that right? The one in the funny white suit and all the equipment.”

  “Yes, I’m Keegan Donaghue. I arrived at the sheriff’s request to collect some evidence,” Keegan said. “The suit may be amusing, but it prevents contamination. It serves a purpose.”

  “Right, you’re the forensics guy. Hey, whatever you need to do the job.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Anyway, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Malcolm Bissette, sous chef. This is Dorian Stewart, prep cook and sous chef in training,” Mal said.

  Dorian turned away from watching Cal. Once again he nodded absently. “Hello.”

  “Good to meet both of you,” Keegan said.

  “Did you know Patrick and Jeremy?” Mal asked.

  Keegan shook his head. “No. Unfortunately, I didn’t get the chance to meet Patrick. I’m here for Wyatt McBride and his nephew, Collin. I teach one of Collin’s classes at the high school and met Wyatt. I thought I could offer them a shoulder to lean on.”

  “That’s so sweet of you. Wyatt’s one of those strong silent types and keeps everything bottled in to remain strong for his friends. I hope you can help crack it,” Mal said.

  “I noticed the same and I’m going to work at it. He’s exhausted and running on fumes,” Keegan said. He found the taller artist amongst the crowd. It was easy to locate the long dark-blond hair with honey highlights.

  “Still, he’s a hottie. All of that delicious ink.” Mal fanned his face with his hand and grinned. “Swoon material.”

  Keegan’s cheeks heated.

  “Oh, I see, good for you for snatching him up,” Mal said. “I’m head over heels for my guy.” He leaned to the side and raised on his tiptoes. “There he is. The taller fella on Wyatt’s left shoulder with coffee brown hair. He’s mine.”

  Keegan turned to find the man in question and nodded. “Not a bad choice. Who is he?”

  “Reece Simpson. He’s the owner of Southern Haven Landscaping,” Malcolm said. “Had to get his head out of his butt and the dirt he loves in order to see me, but I’m enjoying every bit of our life together.”

  “Interesting way to put it,” Keegan said. He added a soft chuckle.

  “What can I offer you? Chef Dakota and I created this little menu for the memorial. Everything is delicious,” Mal said and listed off the names of the different tidbits.

  “Could I have a bit of everything?”

  “Sure. What would you like to drink?”

  “A cup of sweet tea would be great. With a bit of lemon if possible,” Keegan said.

  “Sure. Dorian, sweet tea with lemon,” Mal said.

  “You got it,” Dorian said as he grabbed a cup and turned to fill it from a container. He dropped a lemon slice on top and added a straw. Once he’d placed it on the table next to Keegan, he returned his attention to the stage.

  Mal finished dishing up the plate then handed it to Keegan along with a fork and napkin. “Enjoy.” He shook his head. “Dorian, stop mooning and pay attention.”

  “I am,” Dorian said but didn’t move his gaze.

  “Dakota told you not to bother with his brother. He’s not right for you,” Mal said.

  “Dakota thinks no one is right for me,” Dorian muttered.

  “He’s older than you. He’s in his twenties. You just turned eighteen. Don’t rush headfirst into things. Trust me on this,” Mal said, resting a hand on Dorian’s shoulder.

  Dorian mumbled something Keegan couldn’t hear and stared down at the table.

  Clearing
his throat, Keegan studied the options once more. Mal returned his attention to him. “Do you think I should get another plate for Wyatt?” Keegan looked over his shoulder. Collin was moving toward him. “Hello, Collin.”

  “Hi, Mr. D. How are you?” Collin asked.

  “Holding up. You?”

  “Hungry,” Collin said. “Hi, Mal, could I have two plates of everything for Uncle Wyatt and me?”

  “Sure and there’s your answer, Keegan.” Mal went to work.

  “Answer?” Collin glanced at Keegan.

  “I wasn’t sure if I should get a plate for your uncle since I had one.”

  “Oh. You can carry his over, if you want. I’ll follow up with the drinks.”

  “Let’s go for the old stacking method.” Mal topped Keegan’s plate with a second one along with the fork and napkin. “Got it?”

  Keegan adjusted his hold, picked up his cup then carefully waded through the crowd until he reached his earlier seat. He set the plates down and went to get Wyatt, but saw Collin had reached him first. Since Collin got him, Keegan sat and rested his plate on his lap while the cup went on the floor and under his chair so no one would hit it.

  Wyatt walked over, pausing to speak with others, but made it and gathered his plate and drink. He settled next to Keegan. “Hi there. Sorry we haven’t spoken since your arrival.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I said I’m here for you and Collin. I don’t need the attention, but others needed you by their side more than me. You need to get something to eat. When was your last meal?” Keegan asked.

  “Coffee this morning.”

  “That’s it?”

  Wyatt poked through the offerings on his plate with a fork.

  “Start with that and I’ll get you another plate or one with desserts.”

  “Are you going to mother me?”

  “Just making sure you take care of yourself.” Keegan stopped talking long enough to enjoy some of the food.

  After a little while, Wyatt shifted the remaining bites on the plate with his fork. “I want to thank you again for coming, though you didn’t have to.”

  Keegan set his plate aside and turned to face Wyatt. He placed his hand on Wyatt’s knee, letting it rest there. “You’ve been so busy supporting your nephew and now your best friend, I think you neglected taking care of yourself. According to Collin, you spend long hours in the studio working on projects and barely sleep when you’re home.”

  “I’m not that bad.”

  “Please don’t say that. You’re running yourself ragged, Wyatt.”

  Wyatt glanced at him. “Why would you care?”

  “I care for you. I enjoyed our time during the date and do want to see you more. Very much. You make me laugh, feel desired, but I also feel safe.”

  “Safe?”

  Keegan shifted his gaze down. “Things haven’t been easy in my life.”

  “Did someone hurt you?”

  With a lick of his lower lip to steady his nerves, Keegan returned Wyatt’s steady gaze. “It happened before I came here.”

  “I’m so damn sorry someone hurt you, but this isn’t the place to talk about it.”

  “Nor the time.”

  “Of course. I’m—”

  “Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault.” Keegan moved his hand over Wyatt’s knee. “No matter about my past, I’m excited for a chance to have our next date.”

  “Same here. I need to plan what we’re doing, but I have some deadlines I must meet before I can have fun.”

  “Between school and assisting Sheriff Burke, I’ve been busy myself.”

  “We’ll figure out a day to get together soon.”

  “Sounds like a plan. If you want, I could follow you home tonight.”

  “What?”

  “Sorry. Shouldn’t have said that.” Keegan straightened and dropped his hand.

  Wyatt reached out to grasp Keegan’s hand. “Look at me. Keegan—”

  Keegan moved his gaze back.

  “Are you offering to stay with me tonight?”

  “I’m not talking about sex.”

  “Neither am I. That’s off the table. What do you mean?”

  “I want to care for you, make sure you get some sleep. Perhaps let all the pent-up tension release. Have you let yourself grieve?”

  “I—” Wyatt stopped and lifted his gaze to find Jeremy for a brief second. He returned his attention to Keegan.

  “What I thought. You’re going to crash. Hard. Do you want to be alone when it happens?”

  Wyatt shook his head.

  “Let me be there. Please.”

  “I would like that,” Wyatt whispered. He tightened his grip on Keegan’s hand.

  “Wyatt?”

  Jeremy and his brother walked over. Dark shadows remained below Jeremy’s watery eyes.

  “Don’t get up, my friend. I wanted to let you know I need to leave. This was so memorable. A wonderful way to celebrate Patrick’s life. Your speech and Cal’s beautiful singing.” Jeremy shook his head. “It made the night. Thank you for everything you’ve done.” Jeremy bent over to place a soft kiss on Wyatt’s cheek.

  “You’re more than welcome for everything. I’m pleased you thought it did Patrick justice.”

  “It was even more than I could ever imagine.”

  “That would be due to Marissa, Erin and Natalie Brandon from Blissful Cloths. I put the details in their lovely and capable hands. All I did was get everyone together and call Cal.”

  “Good choice,” Jeremy said. “I would like to take my Patrick home with me.”

  “Of course. He belongs with you. When do you plan to scatter his ashes?”

  “Erin and I will scatter some of his ashes in the ocean early tomorrow morning. On our own. I don’t want to make a big deal of it. Just his mom and I want to say our final goodbyes,” Jeremy said.

  “I’ll be there to keep an eye on them,” Ethan added.

  “I’m sorry about the decision—”

  “No. No. Don’t be. This goodbye is for you and Erin. Tonight was for the rest of us,” Wyatt interrupted his friend as he stood. He embraced Jeremy for a long moment. He carefully picked up the urn and placed it in Jeremy’s tender care. He nodded to Ethan to take the picture and memory board.

  From his spot, Keegan watched them. He remained in his spot until Wyatt walked back with Jeremy and Ethan.

  “Do you need anything else from me, my friend?” Wyatt asked Jeremy.

  Jeremy shook his head. “You did more than enough. I’m sorry to pull you away from your friend. I apologize, but we haven’t met.” He glanced down at Keegan.

  Keegan set aside the plate and rose to his feet. “Keegan Donaghue, I’m a new schoolteacher and I also work for the precinct,” he said. “I’m sorry we met at such a sad time.”

  “Perhaps we can talk another time,” Jeremy said. He hugged Wyatt in a one-arm embrace. “Love you.”

  “Love you too,” Wyatt said. “Take care of them, Ethan.”

  “I will,” Ethan promised.

  Keegan rose to be next to Wyatt. They stood still while watching Ethan lead Jeremy through the crowd and meet with Erin. Ethan tucked Erin under one arm to support her while they left the studio.

  “Wyatt, Keegan, time for you two to get out of here. I’ll handle the remaining crowd and lock up,” Marissa said.

  “Are you sure?” Wyatt asked to double-check the offer.

  “I am. Go.” She moved her hands in a ‘shooing’ motion. “Get some rest.”

  “Thank you for everything,” Wyatt said and hugged her. He turned to Keegan and smiled. “Guess we’re out of here.”

  “Sounds like a plan to me. Let’s go find Collin.”

  Together, they moved through the crowd, collecting Collin on the way, said their goodbyes, and stepped outside.

  “Are you meeting us at home?” Collin asked Keegan.

  “I was going to follow you. I parked in the South Zephyr Southern lot,” Keegan said.

  “I’m arou
nd the corner. We’ll take you to your car. Collin, could you ride with Keegan and show him the way home?” Wyatt asked.

  “Sure.”

  Keegan kept his hand in Wyatt’s clasp. They walked through the night. This was probably the craziest thing he’d ever done in his life. Still, he felt there was something about Wyatt he could trust and wanted to know so much more. He would be useful tonight, not left alone to face his nightmares, but he could hold and comfort someone in his arms.

  Neither of them would be alone tonight.

  Chapter Eleven

  It didn’t take long for them to reach Wyatt’s home, not with Collin chatting along next to him while showing him the way. After Collin’s rough start, Keegan couldn’t believe the differences he saw in the teenager. The earlier changes strengthened their relationship.

  Keegan grabbed his emergency duffel bag filled with clothes and toiletries then followed them through the garage to enter their home. To follow the others, he kicked off his shoes to place them by the pile. Then he checked out the home.

  “Outta here. Night,” Collin said. He dashed across the great room and through a doorway.

  Keegan tugged out one of the barstools to drop his bag. He glanced over to Wyatt with a raised eyebrow in a silent question.

  “That’s his side,” Wyatt said.

  “Why does he have a side?”

  “Technically, he has a bedroom and bathroom, but there is another bedroom I’m not really using. Don’t need a home office or something like that. I’ll work on a laptop anywhere in the house. So I gave them to him to do what he wants.” Wyatt removed his jacket and tie. He hung both across the same barstool where Keegan had left his bag. He unbuttoned the top two buttons by his neck. “Hate being strangled by a silk noose.”

  “I know what you mean,” Keegan said as he dealt with his own jacket and tie. He tossed them on the same pile. “What about books or office records?”

  “My favorites are in my room. The others I donate to the library or schools. I’ve been using my new Kindle. Marissa handles all of the office stuff, so I’m free.” Wyatt walked around the bar then into the kitchen. He selected a glass from a cabinet to fill it with water. “So when I promised my brother that Collin could stay with me, I gave him that side of the house. His very own teenager pad.”