“What are you doing? Not out here.” Mason broke away. “Someone could see us.”
Caleb swore and pounded the side of his fist on the door. “I was worried sick about you, and all you care about is someone seeing us. I was—I was ready to go through fire for you! How could she put you in a situation like that?”
“I think you’re being a little bit melodramatic. Look, things got out of control very quickly. I’m sure Riesling didn’t expect it. Don’t be angry with her.”
“I have a right to be angry with whomever I want,” Caleb growled.
“Look, I don’t want to argue.”
Caleb dropped a hand on his thigh, but they avoided each other’s gaze. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be angry with her. I shouldn’t be angry with anyone. But you must understand that the thought of something happening to you drives me crazy. It was different when I could make myself believe she was a safe alternative. Tonight reminded me that I don’t know Riesling from Jane Doe. She could be all wrong for you.”
Mason smiled in the shadowy recesses of the car. “She is all wrong for me, but I’m here. I’m safe and sound.”
“Someone is going to get hurt. If not physically—from another crazy attempt at rebellion—then emotionally, when all the lies catch up with us. I keep picturing it happening when I’m away and not able to come to your aid.”
“I thought you agreed to stay.”
“I can’t stay forever. You know that. Mason. Also, there’s something important I have to tell you. I lied. I lied about Gregoire not finding an agent for you. Ross Jones is interested in you and he represents some of the best and brightest. He wants to add you to his roster.”
“What?”
“So, you see, you can come away with me. Tonight. Let’s leave this complicated mess behind us and start over.”
“Seriously?” Mason exhaled with a laugh.
Caleb swallowed visibly and looked his way. There was an edge of desperation to his voice that Mason did not like. He was troubled at the fact Caleb had lied to him but, he was incredibly excited by the idea of running away together.
“Tonight, I saw the kind of clout you’ll have,” said Caleb, “with a corporation like Commissionaire behind you. I know the doors that will open for you, if you take that path. I know I can’t offer you half of what your parents have laid out for you here. I know if you come with me, that path might be cut off permanently. I’d like to think I can make you happy, though.”
Mason frowned as he realized he was serious. “Caleb, you do make me happy, but—”
“No, I don’t mean in some romantic head in the clouds way!” Caleb interrupted. “I mean I can take care of you! I have a job offer to teach at a school in the spring. If we leave tonight and I take the job, I can even find a smaller gallery to show the collection. We can both get our dream.” Caleb squeezed his hand possessively. “For once, I’m able to see a future for me with you in it.”
Mason squeezed his hand back and dropped his head on the headrest of the passenger seat. “Oh, Caleb,” he whispered. He shook his head and felt the momentary thrill his lover’s words gave him ebb away as reality crowded in.
“Please, say yes,” Caleb whispered. “I promise you’ll be able to travel the world. I won’t hold you back. Five months in the States while I teach this course, and then we can go wherever you want to go.”
Mason was unable to frame a response. He saw himself packing his bags and leaving town with Caleb. All their dreams coming true. A classic happily ever after where none had seemed possible. Out of the blue, Caleb was saying everything he ever wanted to hear. But, then he saw the six months stretching ahead of him to Robert’s wedding and his obligation to his family. He had to be there to see Robert down the aisle as his best man. Mason dashed a tear.
“I can’t do that. Please, try to understand,” Mason implored. “You have no idea how badly I want to say yes. I want to run up to my bedroom and pack my things, but I can’t do that.”
“Right,” Caleb said through an unexpected sob that tore a hole in Mason’s heart. The artist quickly recovered. “Can I ask why not?” He brandished a smile that cut with its coldness.
“I have an obligation to my family and the people I love here. I can’t bail on them.”
“Riesling. Of course,” Caleb muttered bitterly.
Mason frowned and shook his head, reaching for Caleb’s hand. Caleb pulled away from him and opened the driver’s door. Seconds later, Mason’s gaze skirted to the back porch where his father had appeared. He dropped his voice to a hiss. “It’s not what you think.”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” Caleb threw out his arms and backed away from the vehicle with a smile that did not reach his eyes. “The show must go on and you must play your obligatory role in keeping everyone else happy. I assumed way too much.”
“No!” Mason climbed out of the Jeep as Caleb slammed the door and headed toward the house. Mason caught up with him, and span him around. “This isn’t about Riesling.”
“Then, what is it about?” Caleb challenged, just feet away from his father.
Mr. Sinclair called out, “Everything alright, fellas?”
“Ye, Appa,” Mason replied instantly. “Everything is fine, Dad.” His eyes bore into Caleb’s and begged him not to take the argument further. Not in front of his family.
Caleb put his hands on his hips and stared him down. “What is it about?” he whispered.
“We can do this later. Caleb, please don’t ask me to choose between you and my family,” Mason said quietly.
Caleb waved away the assertion. “I’m not asking you to choose. You’ve chosen. I love you. Good night.”
Mason stared after him as he walked away. He had to find a way to make it up to the attic apartment when everyone went to sleep. He had to fully explain himself. He could not let Caleb believe his lie with Riesling to satisfy his parents was more important than their own relationship.
After Caleb had paid him off, Mason considered staying in New Hampshire and getting a corporate job. Then he had decided to travel the world but he could not leave before Robert’s wedding. Once he got past the wedding, Mason would be free, but first he had to be there for Robert. Family was everything. If Mason could explain that, he was sure Caleb would understand.
He sighed and trudged past his father who eyed him suspiciously. “What was that all about?” Mr. Sinclair probed.
Mason shrugged. “Nothing, artistic differences I guess. Let’s get inside.”
Caleb slammed the apartment door and yanked his suitcase from under the bed. His hands shook and he hated that fact. He detested the things that made him feel he was drowning in sorrow. He swallowed the burning lump in his throat and poured the contents of his dresser bureau into his luggage.
The room was cold and dark, but he did not turn on the light or the gas fire. He wanted to be alone and unseen, the way he should have always been in this house where he did not belong. His thoughts drifted toward the enigmatic young man lurking in the hallway when he had arrived. Mason had inched into his heart and burrowed a hole ten miles wide.
“It was crazy,” he whispered. “Insane!”
He did not expect that Mason would accept his offer. He should not have asked and he could have saved himself much embarrassment. Mason was someone who did as he was told and went where he was supposed to go. Even his decision to take a gap year was only a minor blip. It allowed Mason a taste of the independent life with the promise he would come home and get right back into the groove of what his parents wanted for him. Whether Mason cared about Riesling or not, he would do the noble thing. So, Caleb had to do the noble thing which was to let him go.
He slumped on the chaise lounge with his hands to his eyes to staunch the tears. He had bared his soul. He had told the truth when he said Mason made him feel that he had a future. Now he was back at square one both financially and emotionally. He had used most of his savings to pay Mason and he was growing bitter thinking abo
ut how he had squandered his resources.
He decided not worry about the furniture. A moving company could handle putting it in storage. Caleb heard laughter coming up from the ground floor, and he pictured the others going about their everyday lives, hardly aware of his own existence even.
It was nearly midnight, and Riesling would be gone soon. It sounded like Mason was playing Christmas carols to his doting audience. Caleb imagined that Mrs. Sinclair was pressing sugar cookies on her guests. Belinda and Robert would likely spend the night, rather than driving into town. The festive holiday cheer downstairs did not permeate up as far as his chilly attic room.
Caleb forced himself to move, mainly to take his mind off troubles that were his own doing. He put a protective sheet of parchment between his canvases and carefully wrapped the stack to take with him. All but the first three, the ones Mason had called unfeeling. He left those for his errant lover. He would take the rest, and that was all he would have of Mason when he left.
He scribbled the contact information for Ross Jones, the literary agent interested in representing Mason, on the back of one of the canvases. A parting gift. Then, he grabbed his things and crept down the stairs.
Caleb found his boots by the backdoor, and he slid his feet into them. He closed the door quietly to avoid alerting the others. Once he was in his Jeep, he pulled out his phone. He had a few calls to make to Gregoire; to the friend out west with the job offer and place where he would stay; and, to the airport to move up his departure date. As he backed out of the driveway, he stared up at the warmly lit house.
Caleb grabbed his cellphone and started making phone calls, mainly so he would feel less abandoned. He was used to the feeling of loss, it was an old friend. His mother had left him. The people who were supposed to care for him had failed him. The group homes didn’t leave him but many within those walls had abused him.
The only loyal friend he had ever known was Gregoire, and even his agent had now abandoned him and left him to fade back into obscurity. Love was a lie built on tiny moments that could not be extended to a lifetime. He had run out of moments.
As Caleb sat at the airport, waiting for his connection, he toyed with the idea of showing his collection in the Bay Area. He had nothing to lose now. He still remembered what his watercolor student Mr. Dantzler had told him. “When we do things we love, we find fulfilment. When the things we love are loved by others, we feel accomplished. We can feel neither of those things if we’re not doing something we love.”
He would continue doing the thing he loved, even if he accomplished nothing significant. And he would forget his muse.
Mason tapped on Caleb’s door but got no response. He eased into the attic apartment, surprised at how much cooler it was than the rest of the house. Riesling had stayed for an hour after the harrowing experience at the campus party. His parents had stayed up later than was usual for them. Mason expected to find Caleb in bed when he crept into his room. When he hissed Caleb’s name, silence was all that came back. Mason rubbed his arms uneasily as he hit the light switch.
“Caleb?” Nothing was out of place. The room just felt wrong. “Caleb,” he whispered again. He moved over to the bed and tossed back the covers. The mattress was cool to the touch and Caleb was nowhere in sight. Mason tiptoed to the bathroom, but Caleb was not there. A glance out the attic window revealed his Jeep absent from its usual spot.
Realization slowly dawned: Caleb was gone. “No, that’s not possible…” Mason rushed to the closet and threw it open. The sight of empty hangers made his heart slam against his chest. Running to the dresser bureau, he discovered it empty as well. Caleb was really gone, and Mason had a hunch the leave was not a temporary one. The art supplies were missing from his bookshelf; only his furniture remained.
No, not all that remained. With tears in his eyes, Mason moved toward a stack of canvases against the wall by Caleb’s bed, pictures of himself. He realized that the paintings he had called cold and unfeeling were warm, a testament to Caleb’s affections. “I take it back,” Mason whispered. He had been wrong to tell Caleb the pictures were lacking, just one in a string of huge errors Mason had made regarding Caleb.
He stumbled to the sofa and covered his face as he tried to figure out how to contact the artist. “This is about the argument,” Mason murmured. The argument after the party had left Caleb with a bad taste. Mason could easily imagine Caleb’s state of mind when he made the decision to leave but, he had to get him to come back so they could at least talk. He pulled his cellphone from his pocket, knowing he did not have his number.
Mason swore in frustration and threw his phone across the room. It hit the wall with a loud enough thump to wake someone downstairs. Mason doubled over in pain, not even caring that he might be caught. He let the tears stream as he realized how helpless he was to change the situation. Rocking back and forth, he let them fall.
After several minutes he grabbed his cellphone and the portraits that he instinctively knew Caleb had left for him, and he forced himself to exit the empty room before anyone came to investigate the noise. As Mason stepped from the bottom stair, he encountered his older brother in the hall. Mason tried to turn to hide his tears.
Robert ambled closer and glanced up the stairs. “Hey, what was that noise? I thought I heard something.”
“It was nothing. Go back to sleep,” Mason sniffed, clutching the canvases tighter. Robert’s gaze dropped to the paintings and swept back to his face.
“Did something happen with Caleb?”
“No. I just dropped my phone. He isn’t even up there. I think he’s gone for good.”
Robert’s concerned expression swam in Mason’s blurry vision, and he fought harder not to cry as his brother reached out to clasp his shoulder. “Without saying goodbye? Dad told me you two were arguing when we got back from the party, but I didn’t think it was that serious. I’m sorry to hear he’s gone. I know the two of you were close.”
“Please, I don’t want to talk about it. It’s late.” Mason pushed past him, but Robert slipped into his bedroom behind him. With a sigh, Mason carefully set the canvases against his bedroom wall. Robert stared at the paintings and shook his head in awe.
“These are exceptional. He painted them?”
“Yeah.” Mason turned his back to his brother and folded down the covers of his bed, hoping Robert would take the hint and get out.
“So, Dad was right. He was more than a friend to you, wasn’t he?”
Mason bit his bottom lip and blinked away more tears. “I have to be up early in the morning. I have a freelance job for a woman with a bookstore, and I need to be fresh.” Mason moved to get in bed, but his brother tugged him into a hug before he could make it. Mason fumbled away. “This really isn’t necessary, Robert.”
“Stop it, alright? Look, you can fake it with Mom and Dad, but be real with me. I’ve never given you any reason not to trust me.”
“No, Robert. You’re perfect. You make that clear at every turn,” Mason snorted. “No wonder they want me to be like you.” Mason shook his head and climbed in bed, drawing the covers up over his shoulder and staring blankly at the wall. “Well, I’m trying. He wanted me to go with him, and I chose not to. I stayed behind to do the right thing,” he sniffed.
“Call me crazy, but judging by your reaction right now, turning him down probably wasn’t the right thing to do. Mason, you don’t have to live for our parents or, me for that matter. If you wanted to go with him, you should have gone.”
Mason tightened his lips. “You know it doesn’t work like that! I put the family first. If I had chosen Caleb, I would’ve missed your wedding and let everyone down.”
“Who the fuck cares, Mason? Everyone would have gotten over it. Don’t make this about me. You’ve lived your whole life like we’re in competition, and I get it. Our parents haven’t exactly been gracious in their comparisons. But, that’s all the more reason for you to chart your own course! If you love him…”
“Don’t.�
��
“Do you?”
Mason squeezed his eyes shut and rolled over to face his brother. When he opened his eyes, he told the truth. “I love him so much it hurts.”
Robert sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. “Then, why the hell are you here? Get out there and find him.”
“I have no way to do that.”
“Yes, you do. You have the money you need to travel. You have the means to find him. Let me worry about Mom and Dad. For once in your life, do what makes you happy, Mason.”
Chapter 14
On balance, it had been a good six months. Caleb had made it to San Francisco. He had taught at the art academy in San Francisco and gained a network of colleagues and friends who respected his work. His collection was even showing in a local gallery. It was doing reasonably well, although nowhere near as well as his earlier work. The upcoming interview with the magazine looked promising.
Caleb pretty much had everything he wanted except for Mason Sinclair. Maybe that was why the past few weeks had been riddled with X-rated fantasies that had caught him off guard at the most inopportune times. Caleb had not been able to sleep around, and had not been able to strike up either a meaningless or meaningful relationship with anybody since leaving New Hampshire.
It had only taken the first two or three weeks away for Caleb to fully understand that Mason had changed him in ways that were likely permanent. He powered on a hypnosis video to clear his thoughts but found himself spiraling into an erotic dream.
It took a moment for Caleb to realize he was dreaming. He clenched his teeth as Mason’s mouth flowed up and down his rigid staff in silky slow motion. The ecstasy made his toes curl and his eyes roll back as he struggled for self-control. It was a dream. It had to be.
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