Duty and Devotion

by Tere Michaels

  Half hour later they were cruising down the boulevard, their hands resting against each other on the console.

  “You didn't say where we were going.” Evan finally broke the silence.

  “Dinner.”

  “But where?”

  Matt rolled to a stop at a red light. “You sound like one of the kids,” he said affectionately, stroking his fingers over Evan's wrist.

  Evan humphed at that, but he leaned closer to Matt, his body language speaking to a yearning that made Matt want to forget about dinner entirely.

  “It's nice, I promise.”

  Actually Matt had been thinking a fancy place on the Upper West Side, but he made a change of plans in his head as they pulled into traffic. It was probably the most romantic idea he'd had in a damn long time.

  The traffic into the city was light, and the music on the radio filled the companionable silence. Evan seemed relaxed—but clearly curious as he tried to gauge where they were going.

  “Hey, this is…”

  “Yeah.”

  Evan and Matt parked on the street; there was a familiar site on the corner.

  O'Malley's.

  “First date memories,” Matt teased as he opened the door. The stale smell of peanuts and beer hit him, an old familiar friend. Evan shook his head but stepped inside.

  “God, how much money did we spend here?” Evan murmured as they walked automatically to the back to see if their table was free. It was.

  “Bad beer and wings are not cheap, my friend.” Matt took off his jacket and sat down. “And I have a pocket full of cash. We're gold tonight—go ahead and order mozzarella sticks.”

  “Big spender.”

  Matt rested his elbows on the table and looked around. It seemed a hundred years ago he and Evan would come here a few times a week to commiserate over their lives, literally crying in their beer over the sad state of affairs.

  Tonight it was a lark, a memory revisited before they went home together.

  Crazy.

  “Never thought those two guys would end up being us,” Evan said, smiling through the dim light.

  “Quite a shocker,” Matt agreed. He felt Evan's leg press against his under the table.

  “Not sorry.”

  “Me either.”

  Matt's hand snuck under the table, brushing over Evan's knee.

  “I might miss that apartment you had—with the mattress on the floor,” Evan said shyly, leaning into the touch.

  “Very sexy,” Matt nodded. His fingers played with the seam of Evan's trousers.

  “We didn't have any idea what we were doing.”

  “I'm still not entirely sure of what I'm doing,” Matt said as Evan's hand encircled his wrist.

  “We're doing okay, I think.”

  They drank a pitcher of beer for old time's sake and ate their weight in wings. It didn't take as long as the old days—they both had somewhere they'd rather be.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Evan Cerelli, good to meet you.” The two people in Vic's semi-packed-up office rose to meet Evan as he stepped inside, the woman of the twosome clearly the senior person in charge as she spoke first. He could feel the eyes of the entire squad room watching the meeting through the half-glass wall; he could also feel his heart pulsing through his jacket.

  “This is Aida Corzine and Richard Karz,” Vic said, breaking the ice as best he could. He maneuvered between the pair and Evan.

  Evan shook hands, then waited until the guests had taken their seats on the plaid sofa in the captain's office. He'd slept on that couch a few too many times. He'd sat there and wondered bleakly if his life and his career were over.

  And now, the two people sitting on it wanted to make him an offer.

  Vic sat in one of the visitors' chairs at his side.

  “We've heard good things about you, Cerelli.” Richard Karz had reportedly been a beat cop about a hundred and ten years ago, but no one had any real proof of that. He'd gone into politics and paperwork pretty soon after the academy. “Vic here hasn't stopped singing your praises.”

  Vic shrugged and snapped one of his suspenders. “Just because I haven't complained about him—doesn't mean I'm saying nice stuff all the time.”

  “I think that's exactly what it means.” Aida had gone a more traditional route, if one could call being one of the first female Hispanic officers in the city's history traditional. She was looking at Evan like she could read his mind. He found it disconcerting, so he checked for lint on his pants to avoid her stare.

  “Evan, I'm sure you have an inkling of what this is about,” Vic said, taking the reins once again.

  “I think so.” Evan ventured a look at Aida and Richard, who were expectant and interested in the next part of the conversation. Clearly.

  “With my retirement, everyone takes a step up. Spots open, things get shifted around…”

  “He knows how it works,” Richard smiled. “We're looking at you, Evan. May I call you Evan? We'd like you to take the captain's exam.”

  The gossip mills had been working overtime on this one for a while. To hear the actual words was a little overwhelming. A lot overwhelming. Moving from the practical hands-on to the political and managerial; it was something he had in mind over the years, he couldn't lie. It was good money, less danger.

  That was a good combination.

  It was also a huge commitment of his time.

  “Thank you.” Evan found his voice as quickly as he could, even as his thoughts tumbled and broke through his brain. “Thank you for considering me.”

  Aida looked at Richard, her perfect eyebrows meeting his in a raised pitch.

  “Is that a yes?”

  “I'd like to consider it for at least a day, speak to my…” And then Evan was full-stop stumped. They had to know his wife was dead; they had to know most everything about him. Hell, he couldn't imagine they didn't know about Matt.

  Richard saved him from having to come up with a word. His slightly smarmy smile confirmed that they did indeed know about Matt. “You should definitely take some time to speak to your…family…about this. It's a big decision, of course. We wouldn't want you to make it lightly.”

  Evan cast a sidelong glance toward Vic.

  “Can I ask a question?” He directed it back to the pair on the couch.

  “Of course.” That was Aida.

  “Why me?”

  There was the briefest of pauses that spoke volumes to Evan. Vic looked at his desk, coughed into his hand.

  “You have an exemplary record, Detective. Commendations, letters of merit. High arrest rate.”

  “No different than my partner or half the detectives I know,” Evan said, a calm coming over him.

  “True. But it takes more than a record to make a good captain.” Richard leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

  “Very true. It takes a certain accumen of political savvy which I don't have.” Evan matched Richard's position. “I've never expressed interest in going higher on the food chain here. I'm happy where I am.”

  “Is that a no?” Aida moved to the edge of the couch.

  “No, it's not. I just want a straight answer.”

  Aida and Richard shared a sidelong glance, and Aida nodded slightly.

  “You're a prime candidate because of your record and your…personal situation. We don't have enough diversity high up in the rankings, Evan. And you are perfect for what we're looking for.” Aida smiled. “That's the truth.”

  “Not enough white guys in charge,” Evan quipped, even as his palms began to sweat.

  “Not enough gay men in charge.” Richard threw the gauntlet down.

  “I'm not…”

  Aida waved her hand. “Bisexual, whatever the terminology you use. You live openly with another man, a former police officer. You're accepted by your fellow officers. It's the perfect situation.”

  Silence swelled in the office.

  Vic coughed again, shifted in his seat.

  “So what puts me over the edg
e in terms of the competition is that I live with another man?” The entire meeting was surreal, ironic. All that time he worried what being with Matt would do to his career, and now it was directing him to a promotion.

  The singled-out part bothered him. A lot. He knew there was nothing at all wrong with his record or his ability. He knew he could become a good captain.

  He didn't want to be known as the “gay” captain because someone needed a political quota.

  “It's certainly a plus. We wouldn't be talking to you if the rest of your record wasn't exemplary.” As he sat back, Richard gave him an appraising look. “You know you can do this. You know it would be good for people. Reverse stereotypes.”

  Evan opened his mouth to snap something, but he reined it in. Because he had as many stereotypes as the people Richard was talking about.

  He had his own preconceived notions that he had fought against.

  The reality of the situation was—he lived with a man. He was in love with a man, someone he trusted with the raising of his children. Gay, bisexual, formerly straight; words that didn't entirely encompass the situation.

  “I'm not interested in being a symbol,” Evan said finally. “If you'd like to evaluate me on the basis of my record, then please do. If the only winning point is me being bisexual, then I'd rather not have the job.”

  He gave Vic a nod, stood up and extended his hand to Aida and Richard. “Thank you. And good luck in finding your next captain.”

  Evan got collared by Helena as he walked out of Vic's office and all but thrown into an empty interrogation room.

  “What the hell was that?” she said, the second after the door snicked closed.

  “They're trying to fill a quota.” Evan half laughed, half sighed as he threw himself into a chair. “They want a gay captain.”

  “And they picked you?” Helena grabbed a chair across from him, her jaw literally dropping.

  “Is that surprising for some reason?”

  “You're not exactly very out and…ohhhhhh.” She nodded knowingly. “Gay but straight. They must've found out about you and started drooling.”

  “I'm not sure which part to be more horrified by, to be quite honest.”

  She gave him a semidisappointed look. “I know how much you hate being labeled…”

  “I do, because you know—it shouldn't matter. But then it does, right? It matters to me.” Evan wiped his forehead with the palm of his hand. “I get all indignant about being called gay, like it's wrong or hurtful or an insult. Meanwhile…” Evan sighed, thinking about all the fights he and Matt had been having lately. “Meanwhile, I go home every night to Matt.”

  “It bothers you that people know that.”

  Evan resisted the urge to bang his forehead against the table. “It shouldn't.”

  “It's scary, waiting for people to judge you.”

  “What if I'm judging myself? I fell in love. That's the bottom line. I wasn't looking, I wasn't exploring. I wasn't making a statement. I was drowning and I fell in love. Everything else is other people's shit.”

  “You're a lucky man. Lightning doesn't usually strike twice. Some of us are still waiting to get hit.” Helena reached across the table to grab his hand. “I know things haven't been easy for you lately.”

  “I think I've been kind of a homophobe.” Evan sighed.

  “A bisexual homophobe. You just don't do anything easy, do you?”

  “I also think I'm kind of a jerk sometimes.”

  “Can I plead the Fifth?”

  “You know, as my best friend and partner, feel free to start defending my honor at any time.”

  “You say something I don't agree with, and I'll jump right in.”

  “Ooooo, burn.”

  “Jerk.” Helena shook her head. “It's not like the world and society and people make it easy, Evan. To be gay or bi or single or whatever it is that isn't previously approved as the status quo. You're just a normal person—I hate to break this to you.”

  Evan smiled as he squeezed her fingers between his. “This shouldn't be the norm. My kids deserve better, Matt deserves better. Hell—so do I.”

  “You going to pursue the captain thing?”

  “I told them to feel free to consider me for the job but I didn't want to be their token gay captain.”

  “Bisexual captain.”

  “Whatever. My love life shouldn't have any bearing on my job, unless I'm dating a pony.”

  “Um…ew.”

  “This is what I'm saying.” Evan checked his watch. “We have to get back to work.”

  “When you're the boss, I want longer breaks.”

  His brain ticked and churned and returned to the conversation in Vic's office. He'd managed a few moments alone with his captain before he left, and Vic was apologetic for everything, but Evan thanked him. Sometimes he needed a kick in the ass.

  Or ten.

  Evan took the long way home; he didn't want to walk through the door and let his mouth convey something to Matt he didn't mean to.

  Like he was ashamed of them. Like he didn't truly value their relationship.

  Like somehow there was regret that they fell in love.

  What had Helena said? Lightning didn't strike twice very often? He and Sherri, he and Matt. There were differences, of course, but in both relationships, Evan felt like the same person. The same worries, the same joys. Day to day changed, but God, day to day changed when he and Sherri were together. Teenagers in love don't compare to twins crying for bottles at three a.m.

  Sherri didn't exactly compare to Matt, but Evan—Evan was the constant. And Evan was the only one who could make the necessary adjustments.

  By the time he pulled up to the house, Evan felt the knot in his chest unraveling. His brain simmered down enough to pull into the garage without hitting the cans, and he sat for another second, two dueling thoughts in his head.

  What was he going to say to Richard and Aida next time they asked about the captain track? And how was he going to go forward with Matt?

  Step one was apparently getting out of the car.

  The lights were on, the faint sound of the television filtering through to his ears as he walked up the front steps. For a moment he paused to look through the picture window and caught a glimpse of the kids sprawled around the living room. Katie was on the phone. The twins were watching television, each staking out one of the sofas as their own. Every light in the house seemed to be on, meaning Matt was attempting to cook dinner. Everything about the scene was inviting and comforting and home; for a second Evan worried he would have to take another lap around the neighborhood to keep the tears out of his eyes.

  But Evan caught hold of his emotions and opened the door, stepping into the bright lights, volume on high version of the muted scene through window. It overwhelmed for a moment, then Evan smiled.

  “Hey, Daddy,” Elizabeth called from the sofa, curled in a sleepy ball as she gave him a wave.

  He got a nod from Danny and one from Katie who continued her “Uh-huh, uh-huh, oh my God” litany into the cell.

  Just a normal evening in the Cerelli/Haight household.

  “I'm sorry, do I know you?” Matt called from the kitchen, using three kitchen towels to move a clearly steaming dish from the oven to the counter.

  “I'm sorry, are you cooking?” Evan approached the kitchen warily.

  “It might be a casserole.”

  “Might?”

  Matt waved the steam away from the bubbling top. “There was a recipe on the back of the macaroni box.”

  Evan saw the table set for more than their usual number and started to worry he forgot something.

  “Company?”

  “Sorta.” Matt leaned against the counter and gave Evan one of those patented wicked smiles of his. “We're hosting an impromptu prewedding bash.”

  “Bash?”

  “Okay, casserole for you and me and the kids and Vic and Serena and Helena.”

  “Helena didn't mention…”

 
; “Helena probably didn't know until her mother called her.”

  “Oh she'll be in a fun mood tonight.”

  Matt gave him a skewed look as he if were detecting an off odor. “What's up?”

  “Weird day. I'll tell you later.” He noticed then the huge arrangement of fruit and flowers on the counter. “What the heck is that?”

  “Bennet and Daisy sent us a token of their appreciation or something like that. Look at the size of those apples. The size of a freaking cat.”

  “Why are they appreciative of us?”

  “I have no idea. I was hoping you could explain manners in high society to me, because last I checked, I'm consulting and getting paid shitloads of money. Now I have giant fruit.”

  “I guess they're just being nice.” Evan undid his tie. “I'm taking a shower before everyone gets here.”

  “Too late, headlights in the driveway. You smell fine.”

  “So, sorry about that earlier today,” Vic said as Evan took his coat.

  “Don't worry about it.”

  “I had plans tonight,” Helena groused under her breath. “Did you talk to Matt about the job?”

  “No, so be quiet,” Evan said even as Vic's voice boomed from the kitchen.

  “Captain?” he heard Matt say, and he sighed.

  “Yeah, well, cat's out of the bag.” Evan walked into the kitchen where Vic, Matt, and Serena stood. “It was just an inquiry to see if I was interested.”

  “Well shit,” Matt said, his eyes wide. “That's amazing—congratulations.”

  “I take full credit,” Vic smiled, clapping Evan on the shoulder.

  “This is very exciting.” Serena gave him a hug. “I feel like a torch is being passed.”

  Matt stared at Evan still, and Evan shrugged, smiled. “I have a long road to go, and it might not even happen.”

  “Think positively,” Helena said, stealing bread off the table. “Someday soon you'll be hip deep in paperwork, having to go to meetings and conferences and eat bad chicken while you listen to budget recommendations.” She smiled sweetly. “Try not to miss us little peons.”

  * * *

  That night, Evan and Matt lay entwined in bed, sweaty and tired. They were getting better at the quiet, mind-blowing sex, thanks to a tireless attention to practice.

  “Captain Cerelli, hmmm. You gonna get new dress blues?” Matt's voice was low, dirty.