Prelude to Love

by Anne Barwell

  “I dreamed about Dad,” Joel admitted. “The phone rang, and Bernie said he’d gone. She kept saying I was too late.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Marcus swapped his cup to his other hand and wrapped his free arm around Joel.

  “I thought I saw him.” Joel bit his lip and gestured toward the corner. “He told me I was too late as well. I called to him, and….” He closed his eyes, dimly aware of Marcus taking his tea from him and putting both cups on the bedside table.

  “Shh, it’s okay.” Marcus held Joel and stroked his hair.

  “I’m sorry.” Joel wiped his eyes. “I thought I was over all this crap, that I’d made my peace.” Not remembering his dreams meant they hadn’t been important, or so he’d figured. Talking to Marcus by the stream the week before had given him a sense of peace. However, it appeared as though his subconscious had finally decided to reveal Joel’s state of mind for the facade it was.

  Crap. Why couldn’t he get on with his life after taking a healthy dose of denial like others seemed to?

  “This isn’t your first nightmare,” Marcus said softly. “I’ve heard them before, and you haven’t been sleeping for weeks. I’m worried about you, Joel.”

  “I’ll be fine.” This was Joel’s problem. He’d work through it. He had before. He’d keep busy and distracted, and the issues with his father would go back to where they belonged—a bad memory he didn’t want to deal with just yet.

  “Perhaps you need to talk to your father,” Marcus suggested.

  “So he can remind me how much he loves me?” Joel snorted, then regretted his reaction when Marcus winced. “Don’t you think I’ve thought about it?” He’d dialed his father’s number once but hung up when Claude answered.

  “You don’t need to do it alone.” Marcus kept stroking Joel’s hair. “I can come with you.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Joel didn’t want Marcus to be on the receiving end of his father’s bigotry. Bad enough that Joel had seen it up close and personal.

  “One of you needs to start talking, Joel.” Marcus didn’t seem to want to let go of the idea. “Before it is too late.”

  “I don’t want to think about that now.” Joel cringed when he heard the dismissive tone in his voice.

  “Please, Joel. I’m worried about you. If you won’t talk to him, maybe I could—”

  “Whatever.” Joel retrieved his cup and drained his tea, dismissing the conversation. “Can we go back to sleep now? I’m tired.”

  “Okay.” Marcus ignored his tea, turned out the light, pulled the blankets around both of them, and then spooned around Joel.

  “I’m sorry,” Joel whispered. “I just can’t.”

  “It’s okay.” Marcus kissed the nape of Joel’s neck. “I love you. You know that, right?”

  “Yeah, I do. I love you too.”

  “I’M sorry, but we don’t have any jobs going at present.” The woman at the front desk smiled at Marcus apologetically. She appeared to be in her forties, so about ten years older than him, and her demeanor was friendly and open. “But if you give me your name and contact details, I can let you know if that changes.”

  “I’m not here to apply for a job. I’d like a word with Mr. Ashcroft, if that’s possible.” Marcus had thought about phoning for an appointment but didn’t want to take the chance that Claude might know who he was and refuse to see him. There was still a chance of that now, but Marcus figured it was harder to say no to someone’s face.

  Bernadette had mentioned that her father would be at his office on Mondays and Fridays, which worked well because Joel would be at the school and there was less chance he might spot Marcus’s SUV parked outside Ashcroft Engineering. Not that Joel ventured far from either school or work of late, but Marcus didn’t want to push his luck. Marcus had been surprised when he’d discovered that the company’s offices were only about half an hour from where Joel lived, rather than closer to his parents’ home in Tawa.

  “Mr. Ashcroft is a busy man.” Hillary—according to the name plaque on her desk—peered at him closely. “Is it about a job in progress? Or one under contract?”

  “No, it’s about a personal matter.” Marcus hadn’t come all this way to give up that easily. At least she hadn’t said that Claude wasn’t in. It was a start. “Please. It’s important.” He took a deep breath. Damn it, he’d have to come clean or Hillary might not let him get any further. “I need to talk to him about his son.”

  Hillary raised an eyebrow, yet got up from her desk immediately. “Wait here. What did you say your name was, again?”

  “I didn’t.” Marcus’s heart hammered in his chest. “You can tell him Marcus Verden is here to see him.”

  Not that Claude would know who he was, but perhaps that was a good thing. If he knew Marcus was Joel’s boyfriend he might refuse to see him.

  Hillary’s expression softened. “I’ll see what I can do.” She hesitated before she knocked on the office door. “Joel’s all right, isn’t he?”

  Marcus nodded. How did Hillary know Joel’s name? She’d definitely recognized Marcus’s name too if her change of expression was anything to go by. Did Claude still talk about his son? Or had she found out about Joel from someone else?

  He debated sitting while he waited, then decided he’d prefer to stand. He wanted to meet Claude for the first time eye to eye, and not give the older man any advantage. This wasn’t going to be easy, but Marcus was determined to say what he needed before he got thrown out. At least then he’d know he’d tried.

  Looking around the room while he waited didn’t prove the distraction he’d hoped it would be. The decor was a tasteful off-white, with a painting of the Kelburn cable car overlooking Wellington city adding color to one wall. The floors were wood, possibly rimu, and polished with wax rather than painted with polyurethane—Marcus wondered if they’d been retrieved from a building site or part of the original building, which looked as though it had once been an old house.

  It seemed like forever before Hillary came out of the office, giving Marcus time to examine his surroundings in detail at least twice. Marcus had heard voices, but they were too low to make out Claude’s response.

  “He’ll see you now.” Hillary smiled as Marcus gave her a curt nod and wiped his damp hands on his jeans. “He’s surprised you’re here, but he relaxed once he knew Joel was okay.” She chuckled. “You look a lot like your sister, Marcus, and Joel’s mother has given you her seal of approval, so remember that when you talk to Mr. Ashcroft.”

  “Thanks.” Marcus wondered—not for the first time—if anything happened in the Hutt Valley that his sister didn’t know about. Ella had always believed in the power of networking, but discovering just how many people knew her was getting rather surreal.

  Claude Ashcroft stood when Marcus entered the room, and walked around to the front of his huge old-fashioned wooden desk to shake Marcus’s hand. “Take a seat please, Marcus,” he said, indicating one of two comfortable-looking leather two-seater sofas on either side of a small coffee table. “Let’s make this as easy as we can.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Marcus took care to keep his tone polite, but he’d been curious about Claude for some time. While Joel had talked about his father, he’d never described him, and the only family photographs he had on display were of his mother, and Bernadette and her family.

  Claude was a few centimeters taller than Joel, and he was more heavily built. He’d gripped Marcus’s hand firmly, the calluses on his hands betraying his workingman’s background. Marcus sat on one sofa, while Claude took the other. Claude studied him in much the same way Marcus was watching him.

  “I’ve been told Joel is a mix of me and his mother.” Claude broke the silence with a comment that suggested he’d guessed what Marcus had been thinking. “I can’t see it, but….” He shrugged, his lips turning up into a familiar smile.

  “I can,” Marcus said quietly. “I’d recognize that smile anywhere. It reminds me of Joel.” Joel often wore it when he
was nervous about something, but instead of talking about anything and everything, Claude accompanied it with a sense of quiet contemplation.

  “So you’re Ella Verden’s brother?” Claude poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher on the table. He offered Marcus one, but Marcus shook his head. “I was surprised when I heard she and Bernie were friends, but I shouldn’t have been, considering she married the Prior boy. I was glad Darin and Joel remained close. I knew he’d look out for my son.”

  Marcus wasn’t sure how to take that statement. Surely if Claude was that worried about Joel, he’d do something about making sure he was all right himself. “Yes, Ella’s my sister,” he said cautiously. “I, umm… I’m here because of Joel.”

  “I know why you’re here, young man.” Claude took a long sip of water and then pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his brow. “I really must ask Hillary to turn down the air conditioning.” He folded his handkerchief and returned it to his pocket. “So, you’re dating my son.”

  “We just moved in together, actually.” Marcus didn’t see the harm in telling Claude. If he knew who Marcus was, it probably wouldn’t be long before whoever was keeping him updated passed along that information too.

  “Does Joel know you’re here?” Claude got right to the point.

  “No.” Marcus regretted refusing the water. At least he could have taken a sip to mask his growing nervousness.

  “Good.” Claude’s smile vanished, although his comment suggested he was pleased by Marcus’s answer. “So… how is he doing? Hillary told me you’d said Joel was okay, so it can’t be anything serious. He’s not working too hard with that concert coming up, is he?”

  “You know about that?”

  “Of course I do.” Claude seemed surprised by Marcus’s question. “Just because my son and I are… I might not have spoken to him directly, but that doesn’t mean I don’t make it my business to find out how he is. He’s still my son, after all.”

  Marcus took a deep breath. There was no way of saying what he needed to without being blunt. “Perhaps you need to tell him that?”

  “I’m presuming that you’re here because he still doesn’t want to talk to me.” Claude phrased his words as a statement rather than a question.

  “Would you blame him?” Marcus was careful not betray Joel’s trust. It was one thing to come talk to Claude, yet quite another to tell him exactly how his son felt about the situation.

  “How did your parents react when you told them you were gay?” Claude asked the question so quietly that Marcus almost missed it.

  “They were supportive and accepted me for who I am.” Marcus saw Claude wince, so added quickly, “They already suspected I was gay.” Alienating Claude at this point wouldn’t help.

  “Parents don’t always know the answers, and we make mistakes,” Claude said softly. He let out a long sigh. “It’s been a long time since Joel and I talked. The longer I left it, the harder it became.” He shrugged. “I worry I’ve already left it too late.”

  “You haven’t,” Marcus said firmly.

  Claude shrugged again. “You probably wonder why I’m talking to you about this. Sometimes it’s easier to speak to someone you don’t know about the things that matter.” He smiled wryly. “I can already see what my son sees in you. You get to the point straightaway, and you’re not afraid to say what needs saying. Joel always appreciated that.”

  “You owe your son an apology.” Marcus wondered if he’d gone too far when his comment was met by silence.

  “I was brought up to believe that… what he is was wrong,” Claude said finally. “I’m still not sure I can support him for his choice of lifestyle.”

  Marcus opened his mouth to tell Claude that being gay wasn’t a choice, but then he figured he was better off focusing on baby steps and one at a time. He studied a knot in one of the floorboards under the table instead.

  “I want him to be happy,” Claude said. It appeared as though an apology wouldn’t be on the cards, but at least Claude seemed open to the idea of talking to Joel.

  “I think you’re missing out by not being a part of Joel’s life. He’s a great guy.” Marcus forced himself to meet Claude’s gaze directly. “Don’t tell me you want him to be happy. Tell him.”

  “I’ll think about it.” Claude stood, so Marcus did too. Apparently their conversation was finished. “Thank you for coming to see me.” He shook Marcus’s hand again. “You won’t tell my son we’ve met, will you?”

  “If he asks me, I won’t lie to him.” Marcus hoped Joel wouldn’t ask, but whatever happened now, he didn’t regret this meeting.

  “Good answer.” Claude gave him a nod. “Goodbye, Marcus. Take care of my son.”

  Marcus felt a knot in the bottom of his stomach. Had all of this been a waste of time? He gave Claude a nod of his own. “Goodbye, sir. Thank you for listening.”

  He hadn’t been thrown out, so perhaps with time, Claude might reconsider his stance and make a move. Marcus hoped so, because he doubted Joel would. Marcus had done what he could. The rest was up to Joel and Claude—two men who were obviously as stubborn as each other.

  Chapter Twelve

  MARCUS looked up in surprise when Joel wandered into the kitchen, running his hand through his hair. “Sorry if I woke you,” Marcus said. “I’d hoped to let you sleep.”

  It had been nearly a week since he’d talked to Claude, and so far nothing had come from it. Marcus hoped Claude might at least come to the concert, although he wasn’t counting on it. Perhaps speaking with him had been a waste of time, but he’d figured someone had to do it, and it was clear Joel wasn’t going to.

  Joel yawned. “Is that coffee I smell?” He walked over to Marcus, slipped his arms around him, and rested his chin on Marcus’s shoulder. “I’d set my alarm to go off in another ten minutes, but figured I’d get up early when I noticed you weren’t there.” He kissed Marcus’s neck.

  “You could go back to bed and sleep,” Marcus said, already suspecting he was wasting his time suggesting it.

  “Sounds lovely, but I need to be out the door by nine.” Joel yawned again, disentangled himself from Marcus, and retrieved a mug from the dishwasher.

  “It’s Saturday,” Marcus pointed out. “Your day off. Or at least one of them.” Marcus was working that morning but would be finished by one. “I’m taking you out to lunch, remember?”

  “Yeah, I know. I’m looking forward to it too.” Joel poured himself some coffee. “Nancy texted me last night after you went to bed. Toni’s got that lurgy that’s going around, so I’m taking her orchestra rehearsal this morning.”

  “What about all the work you have to do this weekend?” Marcus raised an eyebrow.

  “Toni didn’t want her kids to miss out, and I wouldn’t want that either.” Joel popped a couple of slices of bread in the toaster. “I’ll just work a bit later tonight. It’s no biggie.”

  “Joel….” Marcus didn’t want to start the weekend with an argument. “Okay, I can see why you’d want to do this for the kids, but promise me you’ll look after yourself.”

  “I’m fine.” Joel grabbed the jam from the refrigerator and looked around for the margarine.

  Marcus took both off him. “I’ll take care of your toast. Sit and drink your coffee.” Joel opened his mouth to protest, took one look at Marcus’s expression, and sat down.

  “I’m fine,” he repeated. “Still waking up, that’s all.”

  “You didn’t sleep again last night,” Marcus said, “and I can see bags under your eyes. You’re going to be charged for excess luggage if you keep this up.”

  “Ha-ha.” Joel stuck his tongue out. “Look, I can see you’re worried, but don’t be. Give me another three weeks, and I’ll take a good-sized break. Promise.”

  Marcus wished he could believe Joel, yet he suspected once the concert was over, Joel would replace that lot of work stress with something else. He sighed, remembering that Joel had warned him when they’d got together that this was what he was
signing up for. Still, it didn’t stop Marcus worrying about Joel and wanting to take care of him.

  The toaster popped. Marcus added the spreads to the toast and put the plate down in front of Joel. “Okay,” he said, “what about this for an idea? You’re filling in for Toni today, so why not ask her to take your kids for a rehearsal? It never hurts to get a second opinion about where they’re at, and you can take that evening off to catch up instead of working late tonight.”

  “Hmm,” Joel said, taking a bite of toast. He chewed thoughtfully. “I think the pieces are coming together well, but what you said has possibilities. If Toni takes the orchestra for me one evening, I could fit in an extra practice for the choir and go over that bit they’re still having issues with. Actually….” He looked up at Marcus. “What? You don’t agree?”

  Marcus took several deep breaths and reminded himself that he loved Joel and how passionate Joel was about what he did. “I’m trying to get you to take a break, Joel.” Marcus pinched the bridge of his nose. “You work too hard, and I’m already worried about you, without you taking on something else.”

  “You know that saying about if you want something done, you give it to a busy person,” Joel said.

  “I don’t remember there being a postscript saying it had to be you.” Marcus sighed. “I give up. Just make sure you take breaks, okay? I don’t want you getting that virus Toni’s come down with. If you get sick now, all your work is for nothing.”

  Joel seemed to consider the concept. “Yeah, good point,” he said. “Don’t worry. I don’t want to get sick. Look, I’m sorry we haven’t got to spend much time together the last couple of weeks. I’ll make it up to you once this is over. We’ve got that trip planned to Hokitika next school holidays. I’m looking forward to some time off and getting to know your parents better. I haven’t seen them since the last time they were up here visiting Ella.”

  “I’m not worried about the amount of time we’re spending together,” Marcus told him. “I’m worried about you.”