The Night Gardener

by E. D. Parr

  He felt Zachary’s heart pound fast under his palm. “Will you? I’m so in love with you.”

  Zachary turned to him and shuffled to sit. He pulled the pillows behind his back.

  Dane grabbed a wad of Kleenex from the box by the bed and cleaned up the condom. He placed it, tissue-wrapped, on the bedside table. He didn’t want to leave Zachary’s side to go to the wastebasket in the bathroom.

  Dane sat alongside his lover.

  Zachary took his hand and traced fingertips along each of Dane’s fingers and then around his palm. It was something Dane did to him as they sat together or lay in bed.

  “I love you. I’d like to live with you. I don’t feel able to leave here yet. There are family members in town. If you mean it about moving here that would be great … a dream.”

  Dane’s heart leapt. He shifted to face Zachary. “I mean it. Come with me to California for the couple of weeks it will take to wind things up there, then we’ll move here. I can’t face a minute without you.” He leaned for a kiss.

  Zachary’s kiss melted his heart it was so full of tenderness. Dane dotted little soft kisses on Zachary’s face and then with a smile drew away. “I’ll get my laptop. Let’s look for a place here now—a house we both like that’s for sale. The sooner I buy it, the better I’ll feel.”

  Zachary grabbed him back for another kiss and then looked into his eyes.

  “You asked me never to leave you. I want to be with you always. Please don’t ever leave me.”

  Dane shook his head as the conviction they would be together for the rest of their lives thrilled him. “I promise I’ll never leave you.” Then his excitement took over and he leapt out of bed and made for the door.

  With the laptop balanced on his quilt-covered knees, Dane opened real estate websites.

  He and Zachary browsed through the houses for sale on three sites. They discussed what they liked about various houses. Dane opened another website.

  “I’ll get us a beer.”

  When Zachary was gone for the drinks, Dane found the perfect house. He looked up at his lover with a smile as he took the beer Zachary held out for him. “Check this place out, Zachary, its perfect.” He turned the laptop so Zachary could see the screen as he perched on the side of the bed.

  Zachary grinned at Dane. “It’s great. You really like it, huh?”

  “I do, but do you? I’ll arrange for us to go and see it. I’ll make a late afternoon or evening appointment as soon as possible, okay?”

  Zachary leaned in and kissed him. “I love it.”

  ****

  It didn’t surprise Dane to find Zachary gone when he woke the next afternoon. He dove out of bed and took a quick shower. With his hair still wet, he took the phone number of the realtor from the website where he and Zachary had seen the house they liked and called for an appointment to see the place.

  Dane hummed as he made a toasted sandwich. He’d heard back from the agent after his first inquiry and had a viewing time for the next afternoon at four. Dane couldn’t wait to tell Zachary, and it was right then that he realized he had no cell number for him. He’d never needed to call him before. Dane put it out of his mind and set about listing the things he’d need to take care of in California in order to relocate. He sent emails and finally told his brother he’d met someone. I can do it now, now I know it’s for real.

  Much later when darkness had fallen, Dane tidied up, waiting for when he’d see Zachary. He made coffee and wandered around the house. He gazed out of the French window onto the moonlit rose garden and sipped at the coffee. Two hours later, he pulled on his jacket and went in search of Zachary. There was no sign of him. He wasn’t in the garden and Dane looked for him all night, until finally he accepted Zachary wasn’t coming to work or his bed.

  Dane didn’t sleep that morning. He paced around the garden. Then he folded the clothes he’d laundered. He unloaded the dishwasher. His thoughts tumbled around. Have I scared Zachary off with the house plan? Have I been too clingy? Has something happened to him? Why don’t I have a fucking phone number for him? Fucking hell, I don’t even know where his other job is.

  Dane spent a completely miserable day and another night without Zachary appearing. He broke down and cried when it came close to the time to view the house, but he went to the appointment. Zachary will come home tonight. He’ll appear and tell me what’s happened. He’s nothing like Jeremy. Deep inside Dane still remembered the abandonment on his wedding day.

  Situated only a few streets away from the cottage, Dane walked to view the house he hoped to buy, and then, deep in thought, and worried sick about Zachary, he went into the main street. The second store down was a supermarket that had a large offering of magazines, paperbacks, and journals. Dane had discovered it a couple of weeks earlier. He wandered despondently in, trying to take his mind off the terrible idea that Zachary had dumped him.

  Chapter Eight

  Nothing took his mind off Zachary, and Dane looked up from the rows of magazines and journals on display. On the far side of the store a man stood, his back turned to Dane and the rest of the store. Dane’s heart lurched. The dark, almost black hair and broad shoulders in a navy-blue parka surely belonged to Zachary. The way the man stood and moved was so familiar. Dane’s hopes soared. He strode down the long aisle.

  The man turned.

  Dane stopped a few steps away from him. It wasn’t Zachary, but the resemblance was uncanny. Dane couldn’t help staring as he compared this guy with the picture of Zachary in his head.

  The man dropped a packet of breakfast cereal into his basket and looked right into Dane’s eyes.

  The azure blue gaze freaked Dane out. This was Zachary about ten years older and with dark shadows and lines under those lovely eyes. He went forward. “I’m sorry, but I have to ask, do you have a relative called Zachary Yarrow?” His voice shook.

  The man took a step back. His face mirrored the surprise in his voice.

  “My younger brother—is that who you mean?”

  Dane took a breath, unaware he’d been holding it until then. “He’s the gardener at the cottage I’m staying in. We got to know each other well and then a few nights ago, he stopped showing up. It’s weird because we, er, we became close, and er…”

  He had no chance to finish what he was saying because the man flared in anger.

  “Stop it. What’s the matter with you people? Who are you anyway? I thought this town had stopped with its ridiculous ghost stories.”

  Dane went icy cold. “Ghost stories—what do mean?”

  The man took a deep breath. “There is no way you’ve become friends with Zachary. Move.” He aimed his basket at Dane.

  Dane felt as if all the blood had drained out of his body via his toes, leaving his legs weak. Horror that he’d never see Zachary again, never hold him close, never feel those delicious kisses, hear him sing as he worked, practically drove him to his knees.

  “Please. Don’t go. It’s true. He and I, we made plans. He was going to come back to California with me and stay until I’d wound things up there. We’d looked at places for sale here on the internet. I was going to relocate here for him. I-I love him.”

  The man’s face paled. He leaned heavily on the shelf, head down, and a box of Cheerios toppled off.

  Dane picked it up. “Are you okay? I’m sorry. What’s wrong? I didn’t mean to offend you.” Maybe his brother doesn’t know Zachary is gay.

  The man straightened. “You … you really know Zachary, have spent time with him recently?” His voice broke and a tear ran down the man’s face.

  Dane put a hand on the man’s arm. “Yes. Why?”

  “We need to talk. Not here. Across the street there’s a café.”

  Dane nodded. “Sure.” He followed the man down to the front of the store.

  Zachary’s brother dropped the basket with its contents onto the floor at the end of one aisle. He turned to Dane. “Paul Yarrow, and you are?”

  “Dane Lovell.” He was abou
t to hold out his hand to shake Paul Yarrow’s hand, but the guy stormed out of the store.

  Dane hurried after him. His legs carried him along, but he still felt weak with fear. He offered up a silent wish to the universe. Please don’t let anything have happened to Zachary. I just couldn’t take it.

  Chapter Nine

  Paul Yarrow pushed the door of the café open and marched in like a man with a purpose. He dropped down onto a seat at a table near the window.

  Dane sat opposite.

  “What I’m going to tell you will be a shock if you’re genuine. If you’re not, then I’ll see it in your fucking eyes and I’ll beat you senseless right here in front of these people just so’s they know I’m over the pranks.”

  Nausea rose in Dane until he thought for sure he’d either vomit or faint.

  “Tell me,” he croaked.

  The server came to their table. Paul Yarrow snapped out an order for both of them.

  “Black coffee.”

  Dane’s heart pounded so hard he thought for sure Paul would see it moving his sweater.

  “Zachary is in a coma—has been for five years.”

  Dane couldn’t think straight. Memories of the nights he and Zachary had made love, laughed and talked together, careened through his head. His hands trembled and he pushed them between his knees as he bent forward, his breath stolen away by the news. Tears gathered behind his eyes, waiting for when he raised his head because Dane wouldn’t be able to hold them back. His adorable Zachary was in a coma. How then had they spent all that time together?

  He fought down the urge to run, run, and run back to the cottage and yell for Zachary to come home. He looked into Paul Yarrow’s eyes. The man’s face wavered as Dane’s tears welled, and just as he’d known they would, coursed down his face. “No.” The word came out as whisper. Dane swiped at the tears. “Where is he? I want to see him.”

  The server was back with the coffee. Dane looked away from her inquisitive stare.

  Paul Yarrow sighed. “I guess you’re for real. I had to be harsh. Zachary was pulled out of the river there on the Appleton estate. He’d either fallen or been pushed. There’s more to tell, but the reason I threatened you is because ghost stories started circulating about Zachary being seen on the estate. They stopped renting the place out at certain times of the year, but all the same the stories brought people to the town, ghost hunters and the like…”

  Dane picked up a cup of coffee. His hand shook and it rattled on the saucer. He sipped at it, hoping the familiar taste and the heat would drive away the blanket of unreality that descended on him. “I’m so sorry. That must have been dreadful.”

  Paul Yarrow followed suit and drank some coffee. He gazed at Dane over the rim. When he put the cup down, he gave Dane a gentle look. “I’ll take you to him. Maybe he’s in there waiting for you. I talk to him when I visit. I play some of his favorite songs. The docs told me it might help to wake him up. There’s no need for the coma, you see. He’s perfectly healthy apart from that … well as healthy as can be expected.”

  Dane’s entire body spiked and he shivered. “He loved, Fix You. He sang it sometimes as he worked.”

  Paul Yarrow picked up the flimsy paper bill the server had left on the table. He brought it to the counter and paid for the coffee.

  Dane watched. He pushed himself to stand. What will I do if he doesn’t wake up?

  He followed Paul Yarrow out of the café.

  “My car’s over the road.” Paul waved his hand at a black SUV angle parked outside the store where Dane had met him.

  Dane walked alongside Paul to the car and waited until Paul unlocked it.

  “Get in.”

  Dane sat in the passenger side of the car and ran his hand over his forehead.

  “I think I’m in shock and I’m scared. I don’t know how I’ll live without him.” He told Paul Yarrow this, unable to hold it in.

  The man drove rapidly through the town. “I understand. We’re almost there. He has a special room in the hospital. I make sure he’s well taken care of—therapists and so on to make sure his muscles don’t atrophy, you know…”

  Dane didn’t know. A picture of beautiful Zachary entered his head—Zachary naked in the shower with Dane clasped against his hard, muscular body. He heaved a ragged sigh.

  Dane steeled himself for the worst as Paul opened the door of Zachary’s private hospital room. He walked a few paces behind Zachary’s brother to Zachary’s bedside. There was a disc playing and Dane recognized the song. A spear of grief rammed into Dane’s heart. He saw Zachary’s beloved face and raced to kiss him.

  Dane ran gentle fingertips down Zachary’s face and brushed his mouth against Zachary’s lips. “Zachary, sweetheart…” Dane choked up. He gathered Zachary into his arms and wept onto the blue striped shoulder of the pajama top Zachary wore.

  Paul Yarrow tapped his arm. “Talk to him. Tell him you’re here. I’m going to see his nurses … find out if there’s been any change in his condition…”

  Dane let Zachary gently down onto the pillows. He ran his hands up and down Zachary’s arms. Zachary wasn’t as emaciated as Dane expected, but he wasn’t muscled. Dane longed to see Zachary’s blue eyes. He ached to see Zachary’s smile. He sat on the side of the bed and held Zachary’s hand. “Hi, Zachary. Where’ve you been for the last couple of nights? I missed you. I waited all night for you. I hope you’ll be there tonight, out in the garden. You said that bottom box hedge needed thinning. I’ll wait there for you. I’ll help.” Dane traced his fingertips up and down Zachary’s fingers, around his palm and onto his wrist the way he’d done sometimes as they lay in bed together. Dane whispered as tears burned in his eyes. “Please wake up, Zachary. Please wake up.”

  An hour later, Dane trailed behind Paul Yarrow as they left the hospital. Zachary had shown not one sign of knowing either of them were there by his bed. Dane’s heart felt like a stone in his chest. It stopped him from breathing properly.

  “You’re cleared to visit him anytime you want. I asked about changes in his condition. There was some change in his heartbeat two nights ago. They didn’t alert me because it was momentary, and everything has been normal since.”

  Dane’s heart flipped. “What happened?”

  Paul glanced at him before unlocking the car. “His heart raced for a couple of seconds.”

  Dane buckled the seatbelt and gazed out of the car window as Paul started his car.

  “I’ll drop you at the cottage.”

  Dane couldn’t answer.

  Chapter Ten

  That night Dane wandered the garden. He called for Zachary and finally when dawn broke and Zachary hadn’t shown up, Dane went into the cottage and slumped on a kitchen chair. He cried until he dropped to sleep with his head on his arms as he rested on the big kitchen table.

  Dane woke with a start as his body alerted him to the fact he was cutting off the circulation to his arms. He shook his hands as pins and needles zinged in his limbs. He stood and stamped up and down the kitchen for a few moments. Unable to help it, he took the stairs two at a time and raced to the bedroom where he and Zachary usually slept and made love. The bed was empty, and with his hope that Zachary slept there crushed, Dane crept away.

  He took a shower and as he stood under the comforting spray, his thoughts churned. Is Zachary a ghost? No, because he isn’t dead. What is he then? How did we spend time together? He was real. I don’t know how, but he’s haunted this place the whole time he’s been in a coma. That much is obvious from the cruel stories, and I’m the only one who didn’t treat him as a ghost. He loves me. What we have is real. What did he say? That I saw the magic. I’ll wake him. He’ll wake up for me.

  Dane gulped down coffee. His eyes caught sight of the sweater Zachary had worn the first night he’d appeared at the cottage. It was halfway down the folded laundry pile. Zachary had worn it since and Dane had tossed it in the wash with his own sweaters. Maybe something familiar will help. The sweater or the hooded one he
likes of mine.

  Dane couldn’t find his own sweater and assumed Zachary—the night gardener Zachary, still wore it. I’ll take his wool sweater. Five years, fucking hell. That means he was twenty-five when it happened. He considered the length of Zachary’s coma and stuffed the sweater in a plastic bag. He shrugged on his jacket and checked Google Maps on his phone for the hospital address. It was too far to walk. Dane called a cab.

  At the hospital, Dane checked in with reception because he didn’t remember where Zachary’s room was. The day before he’d been so traumatized, he’d not taken enough notice as he followed Paul Yarrow. A young nurse offered to escort him.

  Dane walked beside the nurse. “Do you look after Zachary Yarrow at all?”

  The nurse glanced at Dane as they walked. “I do. I wash him sometimes, bathe him, you know. I read to him sometimes.”

  Dane heaved a sigh. “That’s good.”

  At the door to the room, the nurse turned to him. “Here we are. I think his brother is here. You know Paul?”

  Dane gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you for bringing me. I do know Paul.”

  The nurse nodded. “I’ll get going then.”

  Dane watched him walk away. His white pants and short-sleeved tunic seemed to emphasize the seriousness of Zachary’s illness. Dane’s shoulders sagged. As he’d walked beside the young man he’d not thought about how he’d feel if Zachary didn’t wake up that day. Now Dane’s sadness overwhelmed him. He opened the door and went in with tears gathering in his eyes.

  Paul Yarrow looked up from the magazine he read aloud to Zachary.

  Dane practically tiptoed toward the bed. “Hi, Mr. Yarrow.”

  Zachary’s brother smiled a little. “Call me Paul. I read him some of the articles in the botanical and gardening journals. He’s always loved plants. Studied botany and landscaping in college…” He trailed off and sighed as he gazed at Zachary.