by Cara Dee
I could practically see all the issues Henry had with this, though he voiced none of them, instead processing them one by one. It was drastic, I knew. It sounded bad, yeah? Keeping someone against their will. Except, Ty could always wise up and get away. Until then…
Besides, what options did Henry have? If Ty didn’t want anything to do with his uncle, and the two old farts who were in control wouldn’t give that up, then damn straight, hostile takeover.
Henry placed a glass of OJ in front of me, then sat down on his side of the bar with a cup of coffee.
“I suppose he’d be more stranded here than in Camassia,” he murmured pensively. “Turning off the Wi-Fi is no problem, and the cell service here is already horrible.” He took a slow sip of his coffee, and I realized I was staring again. “Car keys are easily hidden.”
“How will you get him to visit?” I asked.
That made him sigh and frown. “The only leverage I have is a piece of paper that grants me sole custody, and I fear Tyler would listen to my parents more than me.”
I liked where his mind was going. With the law on his side, Henry could make his parents convince Ty to come down here for a weekend—in exchange for something.
“If you tell your folks you’re willing to give them more power if he visits once…?” I wasn’t sure how it would work. I didn’t know Henry’s parents well. I’d only met them a few times, and that was enough. “It’s a shitty situation no matter what. There’s a lot of blame games and mistakes to make up for. He won’t come easy, I’m guessing.”
“He won’t, no.” He peered down into his mug. “I never should have left him.”
“Unlike my old man, you didn’t take off because handling kids was an inconvenience,” I said.
Henry looked up at that. “That’s awful. I’m sorry to hear that, Zachary.”
That was weird. My body tingled strangely at the use of my name. My full name, from his lips. That goddamn voice of his.
“When did he leave your family?” he asked.
“I was…eleven, I think?” I nodded, remembering Mattie had been about to turn one. “Anyway. There’s time for you and Ty to fix this. My brother and I will be here if you want. Mattie might be a good mediator for you, if you think about it. He could cushion the blow and stuff.”
Henry nodded slowly, thinking. “I know who he is now. Mattie—I’ve seen him on Ty’s Instagram.” I wasn’t surprised. Ty loved to take pictures, and Henry was clearly an avid follower. “I feel terrible this has landed in your lap, though,” he continued. “I’d like to reimburse you for anything you’ve—”
“Dude.” I frowned, wondering if I should be insulted. “That’s not how family works. We may not be family, but I care about Ty. He used to be a lot different.” His anger was new—or rather, different—as was his way of acting out and being a dick. The unsure kid with his nose stuck in a book—unless he was debating something he felt strongly about—was just gone. He’d built up walls now. “Mattie sees Ty as a brother. I’d like to keep it that way.”
I didn’t know what was going through Henry’s thoughts, only that he struggled with something. His brow furrowed, and he took another swig of his coffee.
“What?” I got curious.
He shook his head. “Perhaps one day you can tell me how family works. My experience hasn’t taught me anything good.” He rose from his seat and poured out the rest of his coffee. “I want nothing more than to reconcile with my nephew, so I will gratefully accept any help I can get. I’m under no illusions—I’ve missed much, and I won’t pretend to know him best.” He paused to face me, once again leaning back against the counter. “Any further expenses are on me, however. Where are you staying?”
“Motel up in Thousand Oaks, but—”
He nodded firmly. “Then you’ll either let me put you up in a hotel here in Malibu, or you’ll take my place. I can stay at Martin’s.”
“That’s not necessary—”
“It’s not up for debate.” He was getting a little too good at cutting me off. “You’ve done so much for Ty—and me—already. Now, you have to decide if you’re going to stay another week, or if you want to go home and wait until I can call my parents—”
“Hold up.” I took a breath and gathered my thoughts. “Why would I go home? Aren’t you calling them now? Or, like, soon?”
“Ah.” He cleared his throat, backtracking. “Unless my folks have suffered a dual stroke, they’re in southern France right now. As they have been every year for the past forty. The last two weeks in June and the first two of July. They’ll be home in a week.”
Oh. I didn’t know that.
“So, this plan,” I started to say.
“Which still needs fine-tuning.”
“Right. You’ll kick it into motion in a week.”
“Yes,” he replied.
Okay, then. I had calls to make. I didn’t know if I could stay that long. “Do you mind if I call my brother?”
“Of course not. I’ll give you some privacy.” He moved toward the door. “I have to speak to Martin anyway. I’ll be next door.”
An errant thought entered my head, and for the first time, it occurred to me that Martin might be Henry’s boyfriend.
The door closed, leaving me alone, and I sort of collapsed internally. It’d been so rushed there at the end, making me wonder if Henry had needed the escape. It was a lot to process, a lot that was gonna happen.
My brother was stumped when I’d told him everything, and it took me a minute to figure out that he’d had his own vision of Henry Bennington. I’d shattered it with talk of his bookstore, flip-flops that I may have mentioned randomly, and how much he missed Ty.
For Mattie, the world was fairly black and white. If you missed a person, you went to them. Despite that he had no memories of our dad, he was the one who was angry about it sometimes. I’d moved on quicker, although that was more related to Mom’s depression. There’d been no time to wallow or grieve. I’d jumped from one problem to another.
“I don’t know how Mr. Bennington is gonna get Ty to visit down there,” Mattie said.
I hummed, eyeing the books that filled Henry’s place. “He’s working on it.” I had other things to bring up. “Anyway, I wanted to run things by you. Do you want me to come home?”
“You don’t have to.” If a shrug had a tone, my brother nailed it. I could picture him. “I did inventory with Pammie all day, and then I went to see Nan.”
“How is she?”
“She’s good. She said it was about time you took some time for yourself.”
I smiled, missing the old bird. Our grandmother was the coolest lady I’d ever met. “Did she curse any?”
Mattie let out a laugh. “Um, yeah, some new nurse gave her tapioca pudding instead of chocolate, so she groused fuckstick under her breath.”
I laughed too.
Nan stated that her life began when Gramps had died, an old grumpy fool no one missed. Tradition had kept their marriage intact, but once he’d kicked the bucket, she’d started living. Her arthritis and frailty unfortunately didn’t allow her to go rock-climbing anymore, but she was inventive. She’d replaced skydiving and treasure hunting on her bucket list with cooking classes, googling curses that made her laugh, and mild sexual harassment.
There was a male nurse a decade or so older than me who worked at the home where she lived, and he brought her crossword puzzles and welcomed butt pinches from Nan and her two girlfriends.
“I’ve become quite scandalous,” she’d told me once with a blush.
Thinking about her made me miss home. I’d never traveled much—and much was an understatement. Maybe one day, I could afford it; for now, I was a happy homebody.
One who was going to stay in Los Angeles an extra week, it looked like.
I spoke with Mattie for another few minutes, letting him know that if—when, fingers crossed—we got Ty to come down here, my brother was to come with him. Henry was gonna square it somehow. Mattie had no i
ssues getting on a bus, but my impression of Henry made it pretty clear there would be airline tickets.
“I’ve never flown before,” Mattie said with a gulp.
I chuckled, not envying him. The only time I’d been on an airplane, I couldn’t really remember. I’d been five or six, so it was before Mattie was born. My parents took me to Orlando, from where I had vague, albeit colorful, memories of Disney.
We wrapped up the call after Mattie proudly told me he’d been able to lie to Ty, telling him I was hiking with a friend in Oregon. As close as those two were, they didn’t get in each other’s business every day, and up until now, Mattie had shrugged off questions. Either I was busy with work, or I was with a buddy.
So, it was settled. I was staying, and I pocketed my phone as I looked around Henry’s apartment. Convenient for him to live right above his shop, though I suspected it was isolating too. I didn’t care where I ended up, and I’d saved enough money to extend my stay.
Twenty-seven was gonna be my year. I refused to feel guilty. I’d checked off all my priorities from a too-long list—except for this last one—and it was my turn. I could afford to indulge a little.
It felt weird being up here alone, so I chugged some juice, left the glass in the sink, then trailed down the stairs.
“Oh.” I stopped abruptly on the last step, coming face-to-face with Eagle. “Let’s face it, you’re too fat to attack. Right?”
He flicked his tail, staring. Then he sat down and lazily licked his paw.
“Weirdo,” I muttered and walked around him.
I left the store and stepped out into the heat, the blazing sun licking at the edge of the shadows that covered the porch. If someone said, “At least it’s a dry heat” one more time… First, the woman at the motel when I’d checked in and complained about the sun, then a chatty guy who sat down next to me when I had lunch yesterday.
Heading to the pastry shop, I peered through the window and cursed under my breath. Henry was standing with a shorter, chubby man, and he was upset again. He looked a bit angry too. I watched as he gestured as he spoke, then how he pinched the bridge of his nose and wiped at his cheeks with the back of his hand.
The other man—Martin, I assumed—rounded the counter to comfort him, and I got uncomfortable. I’d already put Henry on the spot once, and I’d delivered a lot of news that probably took a while to process. I wasn’t gonna barge in and catch him crying again.
Looking around me, I spotted my truck. It was parked close, and I walked over and opened the door. Slamming it shut was enough noise, I figured. Then I returned to the porch and fumbled a bit with the door to Martin’s shop.
When I entered the establishment, I was satisfied. I’d given Henry time to make an escape out back.
“Hi.” I ran a hand through my hair and took in my surroundings. He was going for some countryside style. White-painted wood that looked rough enough to give splinters. Frames with inspirational quotes and famous sayings, and then, of course, two glass counters with baked goods. If he did all those himself, he was a genius. There were cupcakes that sparkled and cannoli with rainbow-colored filling.
“Hello, there.” Martin walked over to me and grabbed my hand in both of his. “You must be Zachary. Henry’s just in the bathroom.”
“Zach.” I nodded as he released my hand. “You’re Martin, right?”
“Indeed, I am! Lovely to meet you.”
He didn’t look like a queen, whatever that meant. Maybe he wasn’t dressed as casually as Henry, but I’d never seen a queen in slacks and a short-sleeved button-down. And maybe…I didn’t have a fucking clue how a queen looked.
“Do you make all these?” I gestured at the counters.
“I surely do.” The corners of his eyes crinkled with his grin. I couldn’t get a grasp on him. Was he feminine or extremely masculine? His voice was pitched higher than Henry’s, and he was more…exuberant, for lack of a better word. Yet, he looked every part a man’s man. Hell, if his name hadn’t been Martin, I would’ve guessed he was Italian. He had a full head of hair too, not a single gray to be found in the mess of black. Did he dye it? He looked older than Henry by a few years. “I run the most successful business in this building,” he added slyly. “Of course, working alongside Henry, that’s no difficult feat.”
I killed my laugh, though not my grin. “I wondered.”
“The internet.” He waved a hand with a flourish, returning behind the counter. I noticed he had a tray of cookies there that he was in the process of decorating with icing and sprinkles. “This little shop is mostly for me. The money comes from deliveries, online orders, and my other location. But there’s nothing quite like a roadside shop that doesn’t look like a truck-stop glory hole, is there?”
I coughed and looked away quickly, and I had to force a laugh. Two minutes with this man and I already knew more about his business than Henry’s, and he’d uttered the term glory hole.
I…I kinda loved it.
“Don’t scar the young man, please.” Henry appeared from the back, eyes recovering. No puffiness, just traces of red. I felt for him. “I see you’ve met Martin. Don’t let his flair for diva antics get to you. Underneath the sparkles, he’s a teddy bear.”
Just then, as Martin jokingly patted his belly, I saw his nails were painted. They were light blue and glittery.
Interesting.
I was drawn to these two men—in very different ways, no shit—and seriously fascinated. I was sure I could sit down and just listen to them for hours. No clue why I felt that way.
“Has he told you he’s the most successful business owner here yet?” Henry asked.
I smirked.
“Oh, you.” Martin offered a heavy eye-roll, and Henry chuckled quietly and dipped his hand into a glass jar of what looked like biscotti. “So, Zach. What do you do when you’re not reuniting families and dressing like…” He waved a hand at me, and I was quickly learning he used a lot of body language. “Half a goth.”
My eyebrows rose before I dropped my chin and glanced at my clothes. What was weird about black jeans and a white tee?
“You don’t have to answer him,” Henry said around a mouthful of cookie. It was almost adorable. “Martin has two mortal enemies. Artificial sweeteners and the color black.”
“It’s a pair of jeans,” I objected.
Martin frowned. “And your shoes and your hair—”
“My hair’s not black.” This could very well be the most absurd conversation I’d had. “If anything, your hair is black.”
“Therefore, my clothes aren't.” He gave a light shrug and decorated a couple cookies. “Henry, I think we need to invite Zach to brunch.”
“Here we go,” Henry sighed.
“Don’t you here-we-go me,” Martin griped. “At the very least, we can send him home with some advice that his girlfriend will thank us for.”
I don’t have a girlfriend, I was ready to say. Instead, the words “I wanna go to brunch” tumbled out of my mouth. And I did. Holy shit, did I ever. My resolve only strengthened as they both looked at me, surprised. So I said, “Count me in.”
Here were two gay men I could learn from. Martin seemed charming, funny, and maybe a little silly. Henry was…well, my new hottest fantasy. I saw opportunity everywhere.
They wouldn’t understand. They didn’t know where I came from. They didn’t know how much I wanted to experience something completely new and different.
They didn’t know just how much my clothes reflected my life. While I saw shades and gray areas, my existence was dull. Simple.
“Marvelous.” Martin beamed at me.
Henry looked wary. “If you’re sure… You are most welcome, but—”
“No buts,” Martin barked at him. “Don’t ruin this for me, Henry Jonathan Bennington. I swear…”
“Take it down a notch, princess,” Henry drawled.
I grinned, already loving this.
Three
Maybe Henry should be on my to-do list
Bright and early on Saturday morning, I checked out of my motel room and drove toward Malibu. Henry had given me two options, hotel or his place. I figured staying with him wouldn’t cost him as much, and…I wanted to stay there. I wanted to see him and Martin more, while I had the chance.
Brunch was a Sunday thing, so tomorrow, I was going to meet another friend of theirs—a man named Joseph.
He was a makeup artist, Martin had been quick to tell me. He’d continued with complaining that Joseph had a horrible taste in men, and he was always bringing around scholars and young professors. At which Henry had protested, stating that Joseph’s partners were perfectly lovely; it was Joseph who couldn’t commit.
“No wonder,” Martin had muttered. “His boy toys are dreadfully boring.”
I got out of my truck and grabbed my duffel bag, ready to test out the life Henry and Martin could give me a glimpse of.
Whoa. As I entered the bookstore, I was surprised to see two customers inside. Quickly looking back before the door closed, I spotted a car. Huh, I’d missed it earlier. Someone was distracted, all right.
Henry smiled politely, then returned his attention to the woman he was speaking to, and I snuck behind the counter to leave my duffel in the back office.
So we meet again.
I narrowed my eyes at Eagle.
The cat my nana used to have had been sleeker, black, and fucking vicious. She’d spoken with her claws and teeth, so excuse me for being a little wary of cats.
“Let’s make a deal.” I set down my duffel, never taking my eyes off the cat in the middle of the floor. He just sat there on his ass. “You don’t scratch my eyes out, and I won’t call animal control. Okay?”
The little shit yawned and stretched out, claws digging into the carpet.
A throat clearing behind me made me jump, and I turned around to see the amused expression of Henry. Hands clasped behind his back, one eyebrow arched.
