by Ariel Tachna
“Hi,” he said when Pascal finally broke the kiss.
“Hi, yourself.”
“I missed you.”
Pascal grinned. “They say absence makes the heart grow fonder.”
“Maybe, but that was a little too much absence for me.”
“I have Tuesdays off from now on, so as long as you don’t get dragged into a shift at Le Salon or into something at the bank, we’ll see each other then as well as whatever time we can eke out on weekends,” Pascal replied. That sounded like heaven to Mathias.
“What are we doing today? I wore good boots for walking, and I grabbed my jacket so I’d be ready for outside time, like you said.”
“It’s a surprise,” Pascal said, the same maddening answer he’d given every time Mathias had asked this week.
Mathias pouted playfully, but Pascal didn’t relent, only leaned forward to kiss Mathias again. Mathias leaned into the contact and licked at Pascal’s lips in silent invitation.
“Brat.” Pascal swatted at Mathias’s hip as he stepped back. “If you start that, we’ll end up in bed, and you won’t get your surprise.”
“You did promise me a day spent entirely in bed.”
“I did, when we didn’t have to worry about getting up that afternoon to go to work,” Pascal replied. “We both have to work tonight. That’s not conducive to my plans for ruining you for other men.”
Mathias shivered. He was pretty sure Pascal had already done that, but he kept the thought to himself. He didn’t want Pascal to change his mind about keeping those promises. “You’re not making me want to leave your apartment.”
“It’ll be worth it,” Pascal said, guiding Mathias back out the door. “Trust me.”
They walked to the underground lot where Pascal kept his car. Pascal opened the door for Mathias and shut it behind him when he climbed in. “I’m dying here,” Mathias said when Pascal got in the other side. “Where are we going?”
“Out,” Pascal said. “The weather is supposed to be good, sunny and as warm as fourteen degrees. Perfect weather for a drive.”
Mathias agreed, but that hadn’t answered his question. “But a drive to where?”
“Wherever the road takes us,” Pascal said as he pulled out of the garage. “Just relax and enjoy the view. If you see a road that looks interesting, tell me. As long as you tell me soon enough to make the turn.”
Pascal took the Autoroute 10 east out of town, pretty much the exact opposite direction Mathias would take to go home if he had the time off and any real desire to visit. He missed his parents and his sisters, but not enough to try to squeeze a six-hour round-trip drive into any time he had to himself. He’d go see them at Christmas. He hadn’t had the time to go exploring much around Montréal with the exception of the canoeing trip he and Pascal had taken, but he remembered a little of what he’d learned about the surrounding areas. “The wine country is out this way, right?”
“It is, although I didn’t know if you’d be interested in any tastings, so I didn’t make plans. We can stop if you want. Most places are open this time of year without reservations, but we don’t have to.”
“If you didn’t make reservations anywhere, then where are we going?”
“I told you. Out of the city. I used to do this with my family when my sister and I were kids. We’d take a day, drive out into the country, look at the leaves changing color, find a little place in some town or another to have lunch, and drive home in time for dinner,” Pascal said. “I thought you might like to get out of the city for a few hours. We’ll find somewhere that looks interesting for lunch, and it’ll either be wonderful, or it’ll be a disaster. If it’s wonderful, we’ll have a great lunch. If it’s a disaster, we’ll have a good laugh. Either way, we’ll go back to town feeling better for having left it for a few hours.”
“That’s….” Mathias swallowed around the lump of emotion in his throat. “Thank you. That’s really thoughtful of you. I love Montréal. It has so much to offer, but sometimes it feels like the concrete is just closing in around me. Mont Royal is nice, but it’s still in the city.”
“You’re welcome.”
Mathias reached across the space between them to take Pascal’s hand. Pascal squeezed back and twined their fingers together. They drove in comfortable silence as the city fell away and the countryside opened up around them. It was less wooded than the area around home, but the trees along the road had taken on the colors of fall—rich red, brilliant orange, vibrant yellow, a riot of color that reminded him of home. He hadn’t realized just how tense he’d become until it started bleeding away. “Do you mind?” he asked, reaching for the button to roll down the window. It was cool outside, but he needed the fresh air.
“Go ahead. I wore layers.”
Mathias lowered the window a little less than halfway and inhaled deeply. They weren’t far enough away from the city for it to smell strongly of the countryside yet, but just the lack of overwhelming exhaust fumes was already a huge improvement. He closed his eyes and reveled in the wind on his face. Pascal turned off the autoroute and onto a country lane leading toward Farnham. As they continued, the air changed, becoming more humid, with the scent of fallen leaves. Mathias took another deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I don’t think I realized how much I needed this. I don’t have a car, mostly because I don’t need one.” He couldn’t have afforded one anyway. “I’m outside all the time, either going for a run or on my way to or from work, but it’s not the same.”
“No, it’s not the same. I’ve always lived in Montréal, but when we were younger, my parents would rent a place for us in the summer. We’d take a month and go away. I spent my days running in the woods north of the city. I miss that sometimes.”
“Is that why you travel the way you do?”
Pascal glanced over at him and smiled before turning his attention back to the road. “Sometimes. The Inca Trail was certainly a back-to-nature trip, but they aren’t all. There’s nothing out of the city about going to Prague.”
“True, although it’s out of your city.”
“It depends on what you need out of a vacation, then,” Pascal said. “Is a change of urban scenery enough, or do you really need out of the city altogether?”
“Right now, out of the city altogether, but it’ll be years before I have the time or money to take the kind of vacations you do. I’ll have a week off here and there, but that’s not the way you travel.”
“It’s not the way I traveled.” Pascal stressed the past tense so earnestly that Mathias couldn’t help but smile. “I traveled that way because I had no reason not to. I’d be fine with weekend getaways at a lodge somewhere. A little cross-country skiing or snowshoeing, then a warm fire and a glass of wine. That would be a wonderful winter getaway.”
It sounded lovely, if out of Mathias’s price range. He didn’t mention that, though. Pascal wasn’t actually suggesting they should go away together for the weekend anytime soon. Maybe by the time he brought it up for real, Mathias would have managed to save enough money to make it affordable.
“You can close your eyes and rest a bit more if you want,” Pascal said when Mathias didn’t reply to his comment. “It’ll be a bit longer before we get to Farnham. We can stop there and wander around a bit, or we can drive deeper into the wine country before we stop. It’s up to you.”
“I don’t know the area at all,” Mathias replied, “so you have to tell me what’s interesting. I’m just happy to be with you and out of the city.”
“Then let’s stop at Farnham. I thought we could have lunch in Dunham and then see whether we’re up to stopping at a winery before we head back. But that gives us the morning to fill.”
“That sounds perfect.”
PASCAL FOUND a place to park in Farnham near the church. They zipped up their jackets and wandered along the river. The streets lined with elms were quiet, a few locals going about their morning shopping. Mathias slipped his hand into Pascal’s as they strolled along the lanes. He took a
deep breath and exhaled slowly.
“You okay?” Pascal asked. “You’ve been doing a lot of that.”
“A lot of what?”
“Deep breaths and almost sighs.”
Mathias laughed. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to worry you. I’m enjoying the smell of the country. It’s very relaxing, reminds me of home.”
“You need to go home,” Pascal said. “Take a weekend off from the bar and go see your family. It would do you good.”
It probably would, but that wasn’t an option right now. “I’ll see them at Christmas. I don’t have a car, so they’d have to come get me, which makes a long weekend really not feasible.” He kept his voice light. He wouldn’t always have to scramble to make ends meet. When his training was over, he’d get a substantial raise, enough to quit at Le Salon completely and still be able to afford a car. He just had to make it another eighteen months.
“What about Thanksgiving?”
Mathias shrugged. “I’ll enjoy the day off. Sleep late, that sort of thing.”
“You could come with me to my sister’s house,” Pascal offered.
“Really?” Mathias said before thinking the better of it. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“It wouldn’t be an imposition. I invited you. I got a lecture last weekend from my parents for not bringing you with me to lunch.”
“You told them about me?” Mathias flinched at how unsure he sounded, but the words had already slipped out.
“My parents know I’m gay,” Pascal said. “They considered Robert their son too, before he died. They’re happy I’ve finally found someone again.”
Mathias leaned closer to Pascal, trying to take that in, to figure out how it fit into his image of their relationship. His parents knew he was gay too, but he hadn’t told them he was seeing anyone seriously. Until a week ago, he hadn’t been sure it was as serious as he wanted it to be, and even now he hadn’t thought they were at the “meet the parents” stage. “That’s… we were… I didn’t think….” He stopped the babble of words with a deep breath and started over. “I’d be happy to spend Thanksgiving with your family if you’re comfortable with that. I know I’m probably not what they had in mind for you, but I won’t let you down.”
Pascal stopped walking and turned to face Mathias, his face as serious as during their talk last weekend. “The only one who gets to decide what’s right for me is me. They know that and will be happy to meet you because I’m happy with you. I told them you work at the BMO and that we live in the same building. They’re going to look at you and see an up-and-coming professional, and they’re going to wonder what you see in me, not the other way around.”
There it was again, that hint of self-recrimination, as if Pascal’s choice to be a waiter somehow made him less in his own eyes. “We had that discussion already, but I’ll say it again if I need to.” He paused to see if Pascal would stop him, but the silence was all too telling. “You see yourself as ‘just a waiter,’ but I see someone who has picked a career and made something of it. I think I told you my boss won’t have business dinners anywhere but your restaurant. We have one coming up in a few weeks. I’m actually invited this time.”
“Tell me when you’re coming in. I’ll make sure your group is well taken care of. I may not be able to seat you in my section, but I can make sure you’re with someone who will give you great service.”
“From everything I’ve heard and everything you’ve said, I’m sure everyone you work with gives good service. Although I wouldn’t complain if you were the one to take care of us. I’d love to see you at work.”
The lines around Pascal’s mouth deepened as he frowned. Mathias cursed inwardly. Wrong choice of thing to say. “I’d spend the entire dinner trying not to jump you.”
Pascal laughed at that, easing the tension in Mathias’s gut. “There’s nothing particularly attractive about a white apron over black slacks. Trust me, you aren’t missing anything.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Mathias replied. “After all, it’s my buttons you’ll be pushing.”
Pascal squeezed his hand. “If you say so.”
If they’d been in Montréal, Mathias wouldn’t have hesitated to pull Pascal into a kiss, but out in the country as they were, attitudes changed more slowly. It might be fine, or it might not. He’d save the kiss until they got back to the car.
Chapter 19
“WHAT’S WITH the look on your face?” Louis asked when Mathias walked into the bank on Monday morning.
“He invited me to spend Thanksgiving with his family,” Mathias blurted out.
“That’s good, though, right?” Louis asked. “It means he’s serious about your relationship.”
It was a good thing, but that didn’t make Mathias more prepared to deal with it. “What am I supposed to wear? What if they ask where we met? I mean, we live in the same building, but we actually met at the bar, and what if they don’t like me or think I’m too young for him or not good enough for him or—”
“Breathe, Mathias. You’re working yourself up for nothing.”
Mathias obediently took a deep breath. “I’m being ridiculous.”
“It’s not ridiculous to be nervous about meeting his parents. Just don’t make it out to be worse than it really is. If he invited you, he obviously thinks it will be fine.”
The reminder relaxed Mathias somewhat. Pascal hadn’t asked until Mathias mentioned not going home, but he had asked. He could have simply stayed silent and accepted it when Mathias said he’d stay in and enjoy the day off from the bar, but he hadn’t. He’d invited Mathias to spend Thanksgiving with him, and he’d told his parents about them already.
“That still doesn’t answer the question of what to wear,” Mathias joked to lighten the mood. He hadn’t meant to tell Louis quite as much as he had. He certainly didn’t want to say more.
Louis laughed. “You’ll have to ask him that question. Every family is different. My family is all about being comfortable—jeans and T-shirts or hoodies, depending on the temperature—but I dated someone whose family all wore suits or dresses on Thanksgiving. He won’t think it odd if you ask. Just tell him you want to make a good first impression.”
That part would be relatively easy. Pascal would understand his wanting to make a good impression. He hadn’t seemed worried about his parents’ reaction, but he wouldn’t want Mathias to make a bad impression. The rest was harder to control, though. He couldn’t make himself older than he was. He couldn’t make himself less of a newcomer to Montréal, less of a country kid out of his depth in the city. He couldn’t make his family less working class or his speech less accented. Pascal spoke with a smooth Montréal accent in French and no hint of a French accent in English, nothing like the thicker accent of the countryside where Mathias had grown up. No one at the bank commented on it, but he saw the occasional look, especially from the ones obviously from the city. They expected a more polished accent from someone in a professional position. If Pascal’s parents had the same reaction, would it ruin things with Pascal? Pascal had never seemed bothered by it, but that didn’t mean his parents shared his open-mindedness.
“I know that look. You’re worrying over things you can’t change. It won’t help, and if you’re nervous, it’ll make it harder to enjoy. Don’t do that to Pascal.”
“He’s just so perfect, and I’m… not.”
“You realize neither of those statements is accurate, right? I’m sure he’s wonderful, but he isn’t perfect. No one is. And you’re not nearly as bad as you think you are, or he wouldn’t be interested in you in the first place. Unless you’re still stuck on the idea that he just wants you for sex.”
It would be easy to believe except Pascal didn’t act that way. They’d come back from the drive in the country too late to do anything but kiss good-bye before they had to get ready for work, and they hadn’t managed to see each other on Sunday. They had a date for tomorrow night, but knowing Pascal, they’d go out somewhere instead of going to bed. He
’d have to make sure they made it back in time to have a little fun before the night ended, or he’d start wondering if Pascal still wanted him instead of fearing he only wanted sex. “He wouldn’t take the time to plan such nice dates if he only wanted sex.”
“What did you do this weekend? Something fun?”
Mathias jumped at the change of subject and settled in to tell Louis about their drive on Saturday. He’d worry about the rest later.
A WEEK later he wasn’t any closer to being comfortable with going with Pascal for Thanksgiving despite Pascal’s repeated assurances that his parents would love Mathias. He’d settled on nice slacks and a button-down shirt but no tie or sports coat for dinner. Pascal said it wasn’t anything super formal, but Mathias didn’t want to show up in jeans. Even if Pascal dressed that way, he was part of the family, not a newcomer on trial. Their date on Tuesday had gone as well as Mathias could have hoped. He hadn’t even had to convince Pascal to take him to bed at the end of the night. It wasn’t the rush to the finish line of their first night together, but it had ended with his knees around his ears in a gratifyingly short period of time. He smiled at the memory, hoping tonight would end the same way. Pascal was a masterful lover, and Mathias wanted more, the sooner the better. It would be his reward for surviving the next few hours.
A knock on the door interrupted his nervous brooding. He grabbed his coat and headed toward the door.
“Hi.” Pascal stood outside his door in a royal-blue shirt open at the neck and black slacks, his coat over his arm. Mathias breathed a sigh of relief. He’d picked the right outfit “You look very nice.”
“So do you,” Pascal replied, giving Mathias a thorough once-over. “Ready to go?”
“You’re sure this is a good idea?”
“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.” The hurt tone of Pascal’s voice decided Mathias.
