by Joel Skelton
“Thank you.” He waited to sip until she had one too.
“So… Ian… he’s had nothing but wonderful things to say about you.” She sipped.
“Allison, I’m sorry, but I have to ask, how do you know Ian?” He sensed it might be in his best interest to start this one off on the right track.
“Oh, no problem. I’m married to the guy down there that… that… ah shoot—that just struck out. That would be Spencer. Spencer met Ian when he joined the Hornets a few years ago. Ian’s a sweetheart. His friendship means a lot to us.”
“Right! I met Spencer last week along with Andy. I don’t recall seeing you here, though.”
“I stay away early in the season. Once things get into full swing, you’ll see me around all the time. I came tonight in hopes of meeting you.” Allison sat, leaving what he judged to be the appropriate amount of space for two individuals who didn’t know each other.
He sipped his cooler, thankful he hadn’t offended her.
“So tell me a little about yourself, Harper.”
He complied with Allison’s request, covering the basics. Turned out she had worked in a law office for a short time while in college, and that prompted more questions and discussion. Soon the conversation made its way back to her intended subject.
“Ian is without a doubt the kindest, most giving person I’ve ever met. I can’t even say that about my husband. We love him like family.”
He sipped his cooler, letting Allison’s last comment drift for a minute before he responded. Sure, this was a friendly visit, but there was an agenda here that only a dimwit could miss. It was time to be assertive and step up to the challenge.
“I’m a lawyer, Allison. I’m not the best lawyer in the world, but I’m pretty sure I’m not the worst. Part of being a lawyer is to assess the situation and adjust the game plan accordingly. Unless I’m missing something here, you’ve come bearing gifts.”
“The wine coolers?”
“Oh, nice try.”
“Thank you.” Allison chuckled. It was clear she was on to him too.
“The gift you bear is a gentle little message, a gift-wrapped piece of advice that I think goes something like this: harm our dear friend Ian in any way and prepare to die. Did I get close?”
“Actually, you were spot on.” Allison offered her bottle to his for a toast. They clicked and sipped. “Harper, Ian’s not stupid. He’s a good judge of character. We’re all just a little surprised at how fast you guys are moving. Well, that and we’re selfish as hell about the time we spend with him. Will you promise me you’ll be honest with him? We can deal with the rest if we know he’s not being screwed over.”
“I love it that you feel this way. When I first met Ian, besides the fact that he’s about as cute as any person deserves to be, I sensed a kind soul, a gentle man. Characteristics I’d always hoped the man I fell for would possess. Your frankness confirms what I’d hoped. I promise to be honest with him. I promise to treat him better than anyone, including you. I mean that in the best way possible. However, I wouldn’t put any money on us not working out.”
“I like you, Harper Callahan.”
“And I like you, Allison…?”
“Hardpecker.”
Caught off guard, he sprayed berry cooler out in all directions.
“Gotcha!” Allison proclaimed proudly. “It’s Benson, Spencer and Allison Benson.”
IAN could not have been happier. He’d had this night planned for several days, but because of Harper’s schedule, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to pull it off. Pouring wine into their glasses, he heard the welcome sound of Harper coming down the stairs.
“Oh man, that shower felt good.” Harper strolled into the kitchen smiling.
“Come here, counselor.” Ian beckoned with his finger. “Yum, you smell so good.” He rubbed his face into Harper’s T-shirt.
“Counselor. How Della Street of you. Hey, are there times when I smell bad?” Harper lifted Ian’s head off his chest.
“Haven’t come across one yet. I loved Perry Mason. I bet Della was great after you got a few drinks in her. Here.” He handed a glass to Harper. “Cheers!”
“Cheers! Wow, those steaks, they look great. Are you going to cook them in the oven?”
“Nope!”
“Hmm… not the oven.” Harper surveyed the kitchen. “Are you going to pan-fry them?”
“Nope!”
“I’m running out of options. Are you going to boil them in chocolate milk?”
“Go put on your flips. We’re heading out to the backyard.”
Harper did as he was told and followed him out the door.
“Ian, this looks great. I love the pavers. And the arbor, it’s all coming together so well. Oh look, you scored a grill. A grilled steak at home, what a treat!” Harper sounded like a little kid, his reaction to the yard so honest and genuine.
Ian knew in his heart the time was right to make his move. Harper, without coming right out and asking for it, begged for a sign of commitment from him. To prove to himself he was approaching this relationship responsibly, he’d waited so long to express his true feelings it seemed almost cruel. He wanted Harper to know what he was feeling inside. Harper needed to know this so they could begin to grow their relationship.
“Harper, I’ve been holding back on you, but I can’t any longer.”
“Oh God, are you pulling the rug out from under me?” Harper leaned against an arbor post for support.
“No. I’m standing here, next to you, because I want to tell you that I love you. I love you, Harper Callahan.”
He watched Harper process what he’d just heard. He blinked, and then his lower lip quivered. “Ian….”
“I just wanted to say it.” He cupped Harper’s round, pert butt in both hands. “I wanted to get it out of the way so it wasn’t strange or awkward. I love you. I’m certain of it. I love saying it.”
Wiping his eyes with his sleeve, Harper wrapped an arm around his waist. “Ian, I love you too. This is the honest truth. I could have said I love you the night we had dinner at Leona’s.”
He welcomed his man’s kiss. They took turns nibbling and pecking each other until their tongues got involved and the kiss turned passionate.
“Hey! I have a surprise for you. Ready?” Ian broke away, unable to wait a second longer.
“I’m ready for anything you can throw at me, you handsome devil.” Harper planted a smooch on his cheek.
“Drumroll please!” Ian gave the cue and then laughed as Harper did his best to imitate a drumroll. Walking over to one of the arbor posts, he flipped a switch. At first, nothing seemed to be happening, and then the sound of rushing water tumbling over rock filled the backyard.
“The water feature!” Harper shrieked.
“Yep, but hang on.” He flipped another switch, and the backyard was magically transformed into a garden paradise. The water feature, the patio—he had worked with Bright Spot to create pools of accent light that seemed to shine out of nowhere. “Is this kind of what you had in mind?”
Harper walked around the yard in wonderment. “I’m cry-happy. This is amazing, Ian. It’s spectacular.”
“Enjoy, Mr. Callahan. I have to grill.”
The air had chilled considerably by the time the steaks were ready. Ian insisted they eat inside. He would have loved to celebrate the backyard coming together into the wee hours, but Harper needed to be in the office early the next morning.
They chatted up a storm all through dinner. Harper confessed he’d lost track of so many friends over the years, and now that he felt good about his yard, how nice it would be to throw a great big bash so their friends could meet when it was finished. “I love that idea,” Ian assured. “I can’t wait to meet your friends.”
“Thank you. Tonight was so special.” Harper rubbed Ian’s back after they’d brought their dishes from the dining room into the kitchen.
“Hon, you go upstairs and get ready for bed. I’ll finish down here.” Harp
er looked exhausted. Even though he talked very little about work, Ian knew his boyfriend’s days were challenging in a very different way than his own, which could be physically exhausting. Harper’s work required intensive thought and strategy, leaving him empty and distant by the end of the day.
Stepping away from the sink, he took Harper into his arms. After a few long, lovely kisses, they swayed together for several minutes without saying a word. It felt so good to hold him. It was anyone’s guess what the next few weeks would be like. He was confident they were, as a couple, heading into it in the best way possible—two men in love.
“Okay, I’m off to bed. See you upstairs.”
Ian finished picking up, and when he was certain he’d collected everything, he started the dishwasher and headed toward the stairs. Halfway up, he heard Harper’s voice.
“What did I tell you? You will not talk to me in that tone of voice, do you understand?”
As Ian entered the bedroom, Harper shot him a distressed look. “Yes, but you haven’t been honest with yourself, Phyllis. And you know this.”
Harper rolled his eyes as he paced back and forth, holding his phone away from his ear.
“Phyllis… oh, I will call you Phyllis or anything else I want to, you got that? So, Phyllis, are you sitting down? I got some news for you.”
Ian was amazed to see a side of Harper he’d never imagined. His voice, his posture, had been transformed from the soft-spoken, loving, wonderful man he’d just sent upstairs to bed into a caged lion.
“Whether you accept it or not, Phyllis, your husband will be going to prison for a very long time. That’s the reality. I’m going to try and salvage as much of your money as I can for you, and hear me when I say this—I’m going to do that for you not because I want to, or like you, or want the best for you. I’m doing it because I’m being paid to do it. And here’s another thing we need to clear up—I’m a fucking damned good lawyer, Phyllis Flynn. You and your husband are extremely lucky to have me. Did you hear that? You are fucking lucky to have Harper Callahan on your side. So go have a good cry, and after you’ve done that, prepare yourself for the worst. He’s going to jail, and you… run the risk of losing everything.”
Ian stood frozen in the doorway. Harper’s chest heaved up and down. His eyes were on fire. Seconds passed, and then Harper placed his phone on the table. “Can you believe this shit? The woman’s a lunatic. I swear to God, I’m this close to throwing in the—” He was interrupted by the doorbell.
“You expecting anyone?” Ian backed out of the room.
“No.”
“Relax, and get ready for bed. I’ll get it.” Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he peered out the side window. A woman paced back and forth on the sidewalk.
“Hello, can I help you?” Ian asked when he’d opened the door.
“Who the hell are you?”
The second she opened her mouth, Ian knew he’d come face to face with Harper’s nemesis, Phyllis Flynn. Standing at the bottom of the steps, she resembled a wealthy coolie. Dressed in dark capri pants and a satin blouse accented with narrow jewel-tone stripes, she completed the look with sparkly gold slippers, giving the multitude of jewelry around her neck and wrists a good run for its money.
“I’m Ian.”
“Where’s Callahan? I know this is his… house.”
“He’s….” He didn’t have a clue how to handle this situation. Turning, he hollered up the stairs, “Harper? Please come down.”
“Who are you? The boyfriend?” Phyllis shook her head in disgust. “This just keeps getting better and better.”
Ian was spared having to respond when Harper stepped through the door, positioning himself between them. He moved to the side so he could watch from the window.
“Phyllis, you showing up here, at my home, is absolutely unacceptable.”
“You think I give a shit what you think, faggot?”
Ian, fearful Harper might do something he would later regret, reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.
“I’ll tell you what’s unacceptable. It’s your goddamn disrespect.” Phyllis moved up a step, but Harper held his ground. “I won’t have it. You work for me. Me! What about that can’t you understand?”
“Apparently about as much as you understood from our conversation a few minutes ago. By being here, you’re not doing a thing to help your situation. I hope you know that.”
“That’s my point, you idiot. I don’t have a situation. You have a situation. And your situation is about to get a fuck of a lot worse. I will make your life so goddamned miserable if you don’t start shaping up, you’ll wish you were never born. Never born, understand me?”
“It’s been a lovely little visit, Phyllis. I can’t thank you enough for stopping by. Now if you’ll please excuse us—”
“Keep it up, Callahan.” Ian watched from Harper’s side as Phyllis stepped down. “I’ll wipe that smug little smirk off your face, you can count on it. You work for me. Got it?” Taking a few steps down the walk, she turned back. “Impressive little shit shack you have.”
Phyllis stomped down the walk, climbed into the car she had left running in the middle of the street, slammed it into gear, and in her attempt to make a hasty retreat, drove up over the curb as she rounded the corner.
“Wow.” Ian wasn’t sure what he’d just witnessed. “She’s insane.”
Harper started to laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Ian asked, unable to find any humor in Phyllis’s visit.
Harper pointed to the end of the sidewalk where it met the curb. “I saw it earlier but forgot to go out and pick it up.” He was laughing so hard, he had to lean into the side of the house for support.
Ian walked down the steps in hopes of spotting what had triggered Harper’s funny bone. It didn’t take him long. The streetlight captured it beautifully. Right where Harper had pointed sat a Marmaduke pile of dog crap with a petite footprint planted right in the middle of it.
“Shit shack,” Harper roared.
“HARPER, wake up. You’re having a bad dream. Harper, wake up.” Ian grabbed Harper’s shoulder and gently shook it.
Since having it out with Phyllis Flynn the other night, Harper hadn’t been sleeping well. He’d been tormented by a series of violent dreams. This was by far the worst.
“Harper, Harper, it’s me, Ian.”
“What? Oh God, oh….” Harper propped himself up with one arm and blinked to get his bearings. Droplets of sweat trickled down from his hairline. “I’m sorry. I was having another one of those awful dreams.”
“I know, sweetie, I know. Stay right here, I’ll be back in a minute.” He got up and walked to the bathroom, returning with a large bath towel. “You’re soaking wet. Here.” He dried Harper’s face and chest. “Lift your arms.”
When he’d finished toweling him off, he stood and walked around to Harper’s side of the bed, straightening out the sheets and the coverlet. “Do you remember any of your dream?”
“I was coming out of the courthouse,”—Harper snuggled up to him when he had returned to his side of the bed—“and no matter where I turned, people were lashing out and chasing me. Reporters, Phyllis, everyone. It was like they were hunting me. I couldn’t get away. I want this case to be over with so badly.”
“Oh, baby.” He invited Harper, still breathing heavily, into his arms. Ian gently petted and stroked his man. “It will all be over soon.”
“I had no idea the Flynns would take such a toll on me,” Harper confessed. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t been here. As crappy as things are right now, having you in my life has meant so much. Knowing you’ll be here when I get home at night, no matter when that is, is so comforting. I hope one day I can repay you for all you’re doing.”
Ian rested his head on Harper’s shoulder. “You make it sound like work. I’ve been waiting for years to play house with the right man. Hey, you got home too late to see, but most of the planting is done in the backyard. I had to
do it in the rain, but that’s a good time to plant. It’s easier on the product.”
“I can’t wait to see.” Harper yawned, pulling Ian’s arm tighter across his chest.
“When you think about it, all this time you’ve been wrapped up in this case, you sure haven’t missed any nice spring days.” Ian wasn’t sure what would be comforting at this point.
“This summer is going to be so much fun. I can’t wait to be at your opening game.” Harper seemed to melt into him.
“Do you have any idea how proud I will feel knowing you’re there?” He kissed the top of Harper’s head, still moist from the bad dream. “Listen, I know how much pressure you’re under now.” He wanted to make sure Harper understood this. “I’m here for you. Let me help you if I can.”
“Right now, being held by you is exactly what I need.” Harper snuggled closer.
“I know I could never do it,” Ian admitted with another kiss.
“It’s a job. Nothing more, nothing less.” Harper turned onto his side and backed into him. “But I have to tell you, and this is just between you and I, Phyllis Flynn hasn’t done her husband any favors. The judge is going to throw the book at her, not Jasper. Poor guy. He’s going to be one of those people who, after a year or so in prison, gets sick and dies. He’ll gradually shut down.”
Ian looked over at the clock on Harper’s side of the bed. It read three thirty. “Try and fall back to sleep. I’m here to watch out for you. I won’t go anywhere. And”—he gently nibbled at Harper’s ear—“I love you.”
“Mmm….” Harper yawned large. “I love you too.”
HARPER woke the morning of the sentencing to one of Minnesota’s perennial spring insults, snow showers. He showered and dressed, and when he got downstairs, Ian had an egg, toast, and coffee waiting.
“What’s it like the morning of a sentencing?” Ian handed him a steaming mug.
“It’s fine. The press will be all over the place. That puts a different spin on things. Look at this weather, dreary and cold.” He glanced out the window at the backyard. All of Ian’s hard work was blanketed with a light dusting of snow.
