by Kim Fielding
“Deb? I’d really like to help Sage out. He won’t take any money from me, but maybe if I gave it to you—”
“No. That boy is as stubborn as his father. He needs to do this himself.” She sighed and traced a finger through a sprinkling of crumbs on the table. “He’s never thought much of himself. He struggled a little in school, so he won’t believe that he’s smart. Then he became a father so young and felt as if he’d let us down. We were… worried at first. But Kayley is such a gift, and Sage is a wonderful parent.”
“I know,” Tully said.
“A lot of his friends from school left Hair Shaker. They ran off for college or jobs and never came back. He compared himself to them and felt he came up short. And as for the homosexuality—”
“He says you always supported him.”
“We did. We love him and we want him to be happy, that’s all.” She gave him a searching gaze that resembled the one Sage often used. “Your family feels differently about you?”
“Yes.”
Deb frowned. “I will never understand that. Turning away from your flesh and blood over something that has nothing to do with how good of a person he is. How valuable he is.”
“Sage is valuable to me.” Tully hadn’t meant to say that—it just tumbled out. Too much caffeine and not enough sleep.
“I know. I can tell. And he’s head over heels for you.”
“But we can’t—” Tully stopped and looked away.
Covering his hand with hers, Deb leaned closer. “My father grew up in Boston. His parents were Irish immigrants. He served in the Army during World War II. After the war ended and he was discharged, one of his Army buddies said he could get him a longshoreman job in Portland. Dad drove all the way across the country and made a wrong turn somewhere around Nyssa, over near the Idaho border. No GPS back then of course, and you know how you men are about asking for directions. He blew a tire near a ranch not far from Hair Shaker. When he knocked on the door of the farmhouse to ask for help, a pretty girl answered. That was my mother.” Deb leaned back in her chair with a smile.
“Your dad never made it to Portland, huh?”
“Never stepped foot in a city again! He used to joke that Mom laid a spell on him. I know you and Sage are on different paths, honey. But you never know. Sometimes our paths veer.”
Although Tully lacked her optimism, he nodded. Paths veered, all right—right into the course of a speeding semi. “Maybe I’ll take that nap after all.”
“You should. Sage’s room is right at the top of the stairs.”
“Um… you don’t want me to sleep on the couch? Or something?” He felt his face grow warm.
She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous.” Then she gave him an evil grin. “And don’t worry—Sage’s bedroom is almost soundproof, and the bed has very quiet springs.”
Cheeks burning, Tully made his escape up the stairs and into a large room with sloped ceilings, a queen-size bed, and the quiet deep breaths of a sleeping Sage.
IT was pleasant to nap together—they’d never really done that before. Tully remained dozing in bed after Sage woke up, took a shower, and picked up Kayley from school. Tully figured father and daughter would appreciate some time alone.
Tully went downstairs after they returned, and everyone gathered in the kitchen. Including Tooth, who would settle down near one person for a while and, when that person stopped petting him, heave himself to his feet and move to the next. Sage danced around the room preparing food, as happy a man as Tully had ever seen.
Kayley had a million questions, of course. About New York City and Portland and some of the places he’d visited for work or vacations. When he finally worked in a question about her college plans, she rhapsodized at length about the ocean, and everything that lived in the ocean, and how much she loved the ocean and everything in it, and how amazing it was going to be when she got to study the ocean, and oh my God, she would someday live near the ocean and spend all of her time in it or on it. Sage and Deb tried to derail her monologue, but Tully frowned at them and urged Kayley to continue. Seeing her so passionate about something was a joy, a little like watching Sage cook. Tully had never been that fervent about anything.
Except, increasingly, Sage. With every minute that passed, Tully fell more in love with him.
A few relatives stopped by after dinner, ostensibly to borrow something. Their real motive, however, was to check Tully out. Sage knew small-town life—knew that word would spread and curiosity would win out—so he’d made extra snacks for the guests, who ate while they politely grilled Tully. Two of them turned out to be Carrie’s parents, a mousy couple whose real daughter clearly must have been replaced by a changeling.
The whole experience was… weird. Although everyone treated Tully as if he might be an alien species, they showed no resentment toward him. They even acted as if they liked him. And he found himself liking them. They talked about things other than lawsuits and places to spend money. He didn’t agree with most of their politics—neither did Sage, who argued with them—but they didn’t appear to mind a big-city liberal in their midst.
Everyone laughed a lot. And ate.
Sage ended up shooing the relatives away because Kayley had to wake up early for school. Before leaving, they all shook Tully’s hand and told him to visit again soon. Carrie’s mother smiled innocently at him and then patted his ass.
Before going to bed, Kayley sat on the couch between Tully and her dad. She hugged Sage, and then she hugged Tully too and whispered in his ear, “I’m so glad Daddy found you!”
He smiled and hoped his sorrow didn’t show.
The adults remained in the living room for an hour after that. To Sage’s embarrassment, his mom dragged out the photo albums and went through the pictures with Tully. Sage had been a dorky-looking kid—in an adorable way that made you want to pinch his cheeks. A lot of the photos had been taken in the Filling Station, and many more involved food in some way. And there was Sage’s father, handsome like Sage, chopping vegetables, grilling steaks, boiling pasta. Cooking wasn’t just Sage’s profession and obsession; it was also his strongest tie to his family.
Before he’d been disowned, what had tied Tully to his family? Nothing but money. And God, money had no soul.
Sage yawned. They would be getting up early and driving back to Portland, where he’d have to work a full day.
“I’m sort of tired,” Tully said.
Deb gave him a knowing look and smiled.
Although he still felt awkward about it, Tully followed Sage up the stairs to his bedroom. Getting a better look around than he had at nap time, Tully saw that the cinder-block-and-plywood shelves lining one wall were filled with cookbooks and neatly organized stacks of cooking magazines. There wasn’t much else by way of décor. Just the bed with matching nightstands, a large dresser, and a few colorful throw rugs on the hardwood floor. One end of the room contained a closet and a door to a small bathroom.
“Did you have a lot of band posters on the walls when you were a kid?” Tully asked. Sage wasn’t into sports, and as far as Tully knew, they didn’t make posters of famous chefs.
Sage chuckled. “No. I tacked up magazine pages with recipes I liked. I was, uh, kinda obsessed.”
Tully moved close enough to murmur in his ear. “Kind of.”
“Anyway, this was Mom and Dad’s room. I was downstairs. But when Dad got sick, it was a lot easier to care for him down there, so we swapped. And Mom can’t deal with the stairs now.”
“You know, if you stuck in a couple of dormers along that wall, you’d add a little space. And I think you’d have a nice view of the hills.”
“Now you’re an architect?” Sage sounded amused.
“Hmm.”
They remained in an embrace for some time, swaying slightly as if they were dancing without music. Sage breathed very deeply in and out, like a man inhaling fresh mountain air. “Thanks for this,” he said. “For bringing me here and coming with.”
<
br /> “Thanks for inviting me.”
“God, today must have been miserable for you.”
Tully stopped rocking and cradled Sage’s face in his palms. “It absolutely was not.”
Sage’s crooked smile was unconvincing. “I need a shower.”
“Okay. Let me brush my teeth first?”
“Knock yourself out.”
Afterward, while Sage showered in his small bathroom, Tully stripped to his briefs and got into bed. The sheets were cheap and rough and the mattress sagged a bit, but the pillows smelled like Sage, and that was all that mattered. He’d almost dozed off by the time Sage joined him.
“You’re wearing underwear?” Sage asked quietly.
“Your mom’s here.”
“She’s not coming up those stairs.”
“But… Kayley.”
“Sleeps like the dead. And before you mention him, Tooth sleeps next to Kayley’s bed. And he doesn’t care who I have sex with.”
Tully snickered.
Fooling around with Sage felt deliciously naughty, as if Tully were a teenager again. Only now he was considerably more experienced, and Sage was infinitely more wonderful than any of the classmates Tully had snuck time with in closets, bathrooms, or storerooms. Although neither of them had brought condoms or lube, they got creative without. Creative enough, in fact, that at one point they rolled off the bed and onto a throw rug with a thump. Then they both laughed so hard—while struggling valiantly to suppress it—that it took considerable time to recover.
They woke up early, and Tully took a fast shower before joining the family downstairs. Sage made waffles, and when it was time for Kayley to leave for school, she hugged Tully fiercely and said, “I hope I get to see you again really soon.”
“Me too. I’ve known for a while how proud your dad is of you, and now I know why. You’re an extraordinary young woman.”
She squeezed him again.
Sage took her to school—walking, so they had a little more time to talk—while Tully stayed at the house and washed the breakfast dishes. When Tooth looked at him hopefully, Tully sat on the kitchen floor with the big dog mostly on his lap. He was still there when Sage walked in and, taking one look at them, burst into laughter.
“Oh man. One day and he’s already got you under his paw. That might be a record for him.”
“Tooth’s always been a smart dog,” Deb said. “Knows quality when he sees it.”
“Knows someone who’s an easy mark for a sob story.”
Tully shook his head. “I’m not, though. I just know when someone deserves a good friend.”
Deb gave them some pie to take home. She hobbled to the front door with them, kissed Sage’s cheek, and then kissed Tully’s as well. “Don’t be a stranger, Tully. Come back and give us all a thrill again soon.”
“I hope I can.”
“Next time we can pile some extra blankets on the floor next to Sage’s bed. Wouldn’t want you boys to go home bruised.”
Tully’s face burned half the way back to Portland.
Chapter Fourteen
AFTER shaking the hands of the opposing attorneys and watching them leave the conference room, Tully sighed heavily and walked to the window. The view was similar to the one from his condo but displaced several blocks, which made for a somewhat disorienting experience. The weather was unusually nice for early June, including a surprisingly blue sky with only a few puffy clouds. They reminded him of sheep, and that reminded him of Sage. But then, everything did nowadays.
“That was a good idea, having the meeting at your law firm,” Eddy said, walking closer. Aside from the detritus of crumpled papers and empty coffee cups, they were alone in the room.
“Home field advantage. An old lawyer trick.”
“Well, it worked today. You had them eating out of your hand.”
Tully shrugged. The meeting had gone well, but things had been going his way for weeks, and he’d been confident of the outcome. When it came down to it, the law was on his side. Yes, wetlands would be destroyed, and one rare species of frog was going to have a big chunk of its habitat wiped out. But what did a few amphibians matter in the name of jobs and easier commutes?
“I think we’ll be on schedule to break ground by August,” Eddy said. “I want the foundation poured before the rains begin.”
“That’ll be quite a project.”
“It will. I’m looking forward to watching it.”
Tully nodded, and for a minute or two, they both stared out the window. Tully wondered what Eddy saw. Potential routes for his pod vehicles? New opportunities for investments? What Tully saw was the city where he’d lived for a decade and a half. He liked Portland. Preferred it to Manhattan, certainly. But had it ever truly felt like home? Had anyplace truly felt like home?
A tropical island. Gently waving palm trees. Fruity drinks. Cabana boys. Would that feel like home?
Eddy startled him by clapping Tully’s shoulder. “I’d like you to come to my house on Friday.”
“Eddy—”
“Business, not pleasure. The Advocate’s coming to interview me for a cover story. I want you to be there.”
“To make sure you don’t say anything wrong? I’m sure your publicist—”
“To be interviewed, of course.”
Tully turned to look at him. “Why?”
“They want to talk to the man behind the man. The legal eagle who made it all happen.”
“I don’t think—”
“It’s important. Because I want the world to see that not only is the CEO of Harrington Sky Pods gay, but so is his attorney. It’s role model time, you know? So that kids realize a whole world of opportunities are open to them regardless of their sexuality.”
That was an important goal, but Tully doubted how effective he’d be at it. He could see a young person reading about Eddy with his flashy lifestyle and bags of money and wanting to grow up to be like him, but Tully? What kid honestly mooned around thinking, Wow! That guy gets to sit in meetings and spend hours reading and writing dry legal documents. He’s living my dream!
Eddy settled his hand on Tully’s shoulder. “I’m probably going to make Out’s Power 50 list this year. If you position yourself right, maybe you’ll make the list someday soon. You just need to toot your own horn a little bit, let the world see what you do. If you get featured with me in The Advocate, people will notice you and be impressed.”
Gazing out over the city, Tully wondered whether anyone that mattered to him would care if he was in the magazine—or if he made the Power 50. His siblings might hear about it from someone, he supposed, but they wouldn’t give a damn. In fact they might resent him even more. Carrie would congratulate him, but she’d also know it was Eddy’s publicity ploy. His sprinkling of acquaintances might be jealous. And Sage? Unless Tully appeared in a culinary magazine with a great new recipe for brussels sprouts, Sage would be indifferent.
“I don’t think I want people to notice me,” Tully said. “I just want to do my job.”
“Not in it for the fame and glory. Okay, I get it. But I’d like you there on Friday anyway. You can skip being photographed if you want, but at least give the reporter a line or two for the article. And stop me if I start to say anything monumentally stupid.”
“Fine.”
“I can have my driver pick you up.”
Tully shook his head. “I’ll drive myself.”
“Good. Ten a.m.”
They stood a few moments longer. Tully wanted Eddy to go away so he could get to work drawing up the agreements they’d reached today. And since it was Tuesday, Sage was probably arriving back from Hair Shaker right about now. He might even be at the condo already, showering before getting ready for work. Tully ached to be with him, to run his hands over damp, warm skin and hear the sexy little moans Sage made when Tully worked him up. And then afterward, when they were dressed, they’d move to the kitchen, where Sage would prepare dinner while filling him in on the latest Hair Shaker gossip. Sage
would have to go to work, and Tully would dive into his laptop. But in the early hours of the morning, Sage would come to bed naked and fragrant, and Tully would gather him in his arms and hold him close.
“Tully?”
Tully shook himself to awareness. “Sorry.”
“You did not look like a man mulling over the ramifications of the compensatory mitigation rule.”
“I’m just thinking.”
“About— Never mind. I’m not allowed to go there. Look, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something anyway. Now’s as good a time as any.”
“What do you want?”
“Let’s go discuss it over lunch.”
“No. I don’t have time.” And he didn’t. Every minute away from Sage was one less minute they had together, and there were so few left.
“Then I’ll just spit it out,” Eddy said. “I want to propose a partnership with you.”
Anger boiled quickly within Tully. “I told you if you ever—”
“Business! A business partnership. I want you to work for me.”
“I am working for you.” Now Tully was simply puzzled.
“No, you’re working for this law firm—another ant in the hill. I want you to be Harrington Sky Pods’ chief legal counsel. Full-time.”
Really, Tully shouldn’t have been shocked at the offer, but still he gaped wordlessly. Perhaps Eddy took this to be a negotiation tactic.
“Whatever your salary is here, I’ll double it,” he said. “And you’ll get stock options that will make you an extremely wealthy man. You’ll have one of the first pods off the assembly line too, and always the newest models after that. I’ll get you a generous vacation package—they never let you take a vacation here, do they?—and all the executive goodies you can think of. And the best part is that you don’t have to do any of the boring peon work. You’ll have an entire legal department under you for that. So what do you think?”
