“No,” David said, taking a drink of coffee and pulling the plate closer. “Next Tuesday’s orientation.”
“Have you got your clothes ready?”
“Mom, I’m not going into eighth grade,” David retorted. “Yes, I have clothes ready. I’m teaching at a community college, not fricking Harvard. I’m wearing jeans and a sports jacket. Not exactly difficult to put together. And even so, I’ll probably be more dressed up than most of the teachers.”
“Just checking,” Annie said easily. “More coffee?”
“Please.” David held out his cup.
Jane wandered into the kitchen. “Did someone say coffee?” she asked plaintively.
“Sit, Jenny,” David said, getting up and pushing her into a chair at the table. “I’ll get you a cup.”
“Thanks.” She yawned hugely. “These late nights are for the birds,” she said, in between yawns. “I hope that’s the last fundraiser Richard has to go to for a while. I’m exhausted. Why am I exhausted? All we do is stand around and schmooze.”
“You don’t like schmoozing,” Annie said practically, piling waffles and bacon on a plate for David to carry to Jane. “It’s exhausting because you have to work at it. God knows I’d be miserable doing it.”
“Remember the old days, when we were going to open a health-food store, and you were going to write a cookbook with your recipes in it?”
“Yeah, and we’d support Richard and Philip with their pie-in-the-sky ideas about computers of all things,” Annie laughed. “God, looking back we were such conventional types, weren’t we? The guys all about technology and us wimmenfolk all about the nurturing crap. But we thought we were so cutting edge.”
“We did what we wanted,” Jane said. “Like your girls are. Like David is. That’s what’s important. And I don’t mind the other stuff, working with the foundation or the charities, when it’s work, and not schmoozing. Some of the other women I have to deal with just live for the socializing. I like being in my little office all alone.”
“You and Zach,” David said, handing her the syrup. “Happiest when you’re by yourselves.”
“Zach didn’t used to be like that,” Jane said, troubled.
“He’s getting better,” Annie reassured her. “He called me ‘DB’ the other day. And smiled at me.”
“My son smiles,” Jane murmured. “Alert the media.” She shook herself and gave them a game grin. “He is better,” she acknowledged. “He’s been talking more in therapy, maybe not necessarily about what’s bothering him, but he’s talking more. He’s reading some book on mechanical engineering or architecture or something, and he’s really into it. Are bridges mechanical engineering or architecture?”
Annie shrugged. “I don’t know. Both?”
“Anyway, it’s about bridges. And it’s good that he’s getting interested in that sort of thing again—it always fascinated him when he was little.”
“Structural engineering,” David said, swallowing the mouthful of waffle he’d been masticating. “Bridges are structural engineering. Zach wanted to be a structural engineer when he was little.”
“Does he still? I mean, he’s only twenty-two—there’s no reason why he couldn’t get his degree. God knows he’s bright enough; he could probably test out of a lot of his classes. Didn’t he get that scholarship to MIT when he was still a sophomore?” Annie held up a plate. “More bacon?”
“No, thanks,” Jane said. “Yes, he did. But we’ve talked about it and he doesn’t have any interest in going to school. He doesn’t seem to want to do anything except work on his cars. That’s why we’re so encouraged about him reading again, in a subject he was interested in before. At least….” She stopped and picked up her cup.
“At least what?” Annie asked, not put off in the slightest. She and Jane had known each other far too long for that.
“At least he’s not going out drinking at night anymore. He’s still drinking, if the bottles in his garbage are any indication, but he’s not going out driving while he’s doing it. Or”—Jane hesitated, biting her lip, then plowed on—“or hanging out with his so-called friends. I’ve been worried about that. But he seems to have gotten past that.”
“He’s not going out at night anymore?” David frowned. “That’s news to me.”
Jane shook her head. “No, not unless he’s taken to altering Andrew’s logs, which I don’t think he has the chops to do, since Andrew’s about as high tech as you can get, and Zach’s just not that good at hacking. He’s not leaving the compound at night. And there’d be no reason for that; we don’t monitor his coming and going, aside from the gate records, of course, but that’s everyone. He still goes out, but mostly during the day. I think it’s physical therapy a couple of times a week, and sometimes the library. But hardly ever at night anymore, and if he does, he’s home an hour or so later.” Jane looked embarrassed. “I asked him about it yesterday and he said he has to be in bed early because you two go running at seven a.m. and it’s hard enough keeping up with you.” She smiled then, an expression of relief on her face. “I am so glad that you two are friends again.”
“Yeah. Well.” David got up and put his plate in the sink. “We’re friendly, yeah. We run together, and we went hiking with you guys, and yesterday we got out his trail bike and started cleaning it up so that we can take it out on Saturday, but I don’t know about being friends. We just hang out together, you know.”
Jane’s grin faded. Annie sat down at the table with her coffee. “What do you mean, you don’t know about being friends? What else do you expect?” she asked curiously.
“Well, it would be nice if he talked to me,” David said bluntly. “He’s gone monosyllabic again. For a day or two he was talking—he even told me a little about Venezuela—a very little. But then he shut up again. Closed me out. Oh, he’s pleasant enough, not broody or anything. Even smiles every once in a while. But closed.”
“Welcome to my world,” Jane said unhappily. “Oh, David, I’m sorry. He’s doing much better with us—maybe he can’t manage on two fronts yet.”
“It’s better that he communicates with you rather than me,” David acknowledged. “You guys have been working much longer and harder at it than I have.”
“Maybe that’s just what Zach needs,” Annie said thoughtfully. “Someone undemanding who’ll just ‘hang out’ with him, and not expect him to talk or anything. It might be the best thing for him. Hard on you, Davey, but it may be what he needs right now.”
Jane gave David a worried look. “Is that okay with you, Davey?”
“Zach….” David took a breath and tried again. “I fucking love Zach, Jenny. He’s family. More than family. I will do any God-damned thing he needs me to do, up to and including murder—present company excepted.” He grinned faintly at Jane. “Now, if you ladies will excuse me, I’m meeting the subject of our conversation to plan our overthrow of the free world.”
“They’re going to play Richard’s new video game again,” Annie told Jane. “The megalomaniac one.”
“I love that one,” Jane admitted. “I’m just a frustrated Napoleon, I swear to God. It’s so much fun being evil.”
David laughed and let himself out of the kitchen.
HE LEFT quiet behind him. Annie got up and got the coffee pot, refilling their mugs, then put the pot back on the stove and sat back down.
After a long moment, Jane said, “Do you think he does? Love Zach, I mean?”
“I don’t know,” Annie admitted. “David’s different, these days. Less brittle. Still tense, but more like he’s waiting for something. I mean, for the last seven years he seemed to be waiting for something, but it was like the other shoe dropping. Or global apocalypse. Or nuclear winter. He didn’t seem to be expecting anything good. But since he’s been back, it’s like he’s… watchful. Not quite hopeful—just watchful.”
“He’s watching Zach,” Jane said.
“Is he? I don’t see them together very often. Zach doesn’t come in with Davi
d in the mornings after their run. He waits for David to leave. Or like today—he’ll be having his own breakfast in his apartment, then he’ll come down and meet David in the game room. I think he’s uncomfortable around me and David. Singly, he’s okay. But not together. I don’t know why.” She frowned. “That’s just the feeling I get.”
“I trust your feelings more than I trust most people’s facts,” Jane said. “So tell me, do your feelings say he’s in love with Zach?”
Annie sighed. “He’s certainly something. What about Zach? Is he even capable of it?”
“Hell if I know,” Jane said. She put her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand. “He’s talking more, but he’s not talking much, if you know what I mean. He talks about things, not feelings. He talks about Maggie and Alex’s Annabel, or the car he’s working on, or the book he’s reading, or the games. If he mentions David, it’s in relation to what they’re doing, if they’re doing anything that day, or if they did something yesterday, or if they’re doing something tomorrow. You know, ‘well, we’re going fishing tomorrow’ sort of thing.”
“He never said they were going fishing!” Annie protested with a laugh.
“Well, no, not fishing. But you know what I mean.”
“Yeah,” Annie said with a sigh. “I know what you mean.”
Jane sat quietly a minute, then said, “Richard and I had a fight. He says I’m obsessing over Zach, but I’m not, really. I mean, he’s my only child and I’ve only just really got him back, and he’s not even all the way back yet. It’s like he’s being born, only it’s taking months instead of hours. But Richard says I’ve got to step back and just let it happen, that my hovering isn’t going to help. I’m not hovering!”
“Men are different,” Annie said.
“You can say that again,” Jane said. “But I’m not, not really. I just want to make sure Zach has everything he needs.”
“Some things you can’t give him, Jenny. Some things he’s got to get for himself.”
“If giving him David would help him, would you give him David?”
“I can’t ‘give’ David to anyone,” Annie said reasonably.
“You know what I mean!”
“Okay, okay. Yes. If it would make both of them happy, I’d love to see David in a relationship with Zach. But I don’t want either of them hurt, Jenny. They’re both my boys, even if David is the one that I bore. So if them being together is going to hurt one of them, I don’t want it. And I don’t know that right now they wouldn’t hurt each other. David’s just out of a serious relationship himself, and Zach…. Zach hasn’t ever been in one. Just give them time. If it’s meant to be, it’ll be.”
“I don’t want to wait,” Jane said stubbornly.
“Oh, the ‘God grant me patience and I want it now’ syndrome?” Annie shook her head. “Go to work, Jane. Leave the boys alone for a day.”
“You and Richard are in a conspiracy,” Jane grumbled.
“Yeah, us and the CIA. Git.”
Jane stuck out her tongue and left the kitchen. Annie shook her head and went to clean up.
“DAMN IT,” Zach growled as his character died a bloody, flaming death. He and David were playing against both each other and the computer, and the computer had managed to get through his avatar’s high-tech defenses to take him and his bodyguards down completely. “I just can’t get past this level!”
“Yeah, it’s hard,” David said absently, concentrating on his own defenses. “And with you dead I’m just that much more vulnerable…. Hah!” he said triumphantly as his avatar weaseled out of a booby trap. “Just wait ’til this goes online and you’re dealing with other players.”
“It’s been too many years since I’ve played these kinds of games,” Zach admitted. “I’m way out of practice.”
David shot him a teasing grin. “You weren’t that good before.”
“Shut up,” Zach retorted. “I’m gonna get something to drink. You want anything?”
“Yeah, whatever you’re having.”
The game was getting intense. David’s avatar was on the defensive now, with the computer focused solely on him. Although, he thought in the part of his mind that wasn’t concentrating on the game, it probably didn’t make any difference to the computer; it was probably his own perception that made it feel like the game was getting more challenging. His avatar made it up a level, racking up a few more points, and the pressure got worse. He skated through another booby trap, but just as his crime boss took over the munitions organization, the Feds burst in and pulled a St. Valentine’s Day massacre, taking out not only David’s avatar, but his entire hard-built organization. “Goddamn dog-fucker,” David yelled at the computer.
There was the crash of glassware exploding on the flagstone floor of the game room. David whirled to see Zach standing empty-handed, his eyes black holes in a white face. “Zach?” he asked faintly in dismay. “Are you okay?”
Zach stared at him blankly. David got up and started toward him, but Zach took a step back, then held up a hand. “Don’t come closer,” he said hoarsely. “There’s glass everywhere.”
Annie came running in, broom and dustpan in hand. “Are you guys okay? I heard the glass break—did you trip, Zach, honey? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Zach said numbly. “I’m… I’m okay.” And he turned and bolted out the door.
“Davey?” Annie met her son’s eyes in confusion. “What happened?”
“I don’t know,” David said, his voice equally confused. “He went to get something to drink while I was playing the game. I just lost and yelled at the computer—maybe I startled him or something, but why did he run out like that?”
“Better go after him,” Annie said. “He went toward the patio. Just make sure he’s okay. I’ll get this.”
“Thanks, Mom,” David said, stepping around the shattered glass and heading for the patio.
Zach was nowhere in sight. David stood a moment, looking around in puzzlement; then a flicker of movement drew his attention to a shadowy corner in the landscaped area on the other side of the pool. Zach was sitting on the low rock wall that edged the flowerbed there, half-hidden beneath the overhang of a yew bush, his heels tucked up on the edge of the bank and his arms wrapped tightly around his knees. “Hey,” David said softly as he approached. “I’m sorry I startled you. It’s okay, Mom’s cleaning up the glass….”
“Is she mad?” Zach interrupted dully.
“No, of course not. Shit like that happens, you know. You didn’t have to take off like that.”
“Yeah, I did,” came the muttered reply. “Sorry. I’m okay. You don’t need to hang around.”
“Hey,” David said again, and sat on the wall, but in the sunlight. “I don’t need to do jack, but I want to make sure you’re okay. Did I scare you, yelling at the computer?”
“No,” Zach said.
“Cuz I’ve been yelling at the damn computer all morning, so I didn’t think much of it.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I think I did. I think I said something that freaked you out. Can you help me out a bit here? Just so I don’t do it again?”
Zach swallowed and put his forehead against his knees. “You didn’t do anything.”
“You’re full of shit. You looked like you’d seen a ghost.”
“Guess I kinda did,” he muttered.
David draped an arm over Zach’s shoulder. “Wanna talk about it?”
“No.”
“How did I know you were gonna say that?”
Zach didn’t answer, but shifted a little so that his head rested against David’s shoulder. David tilted his head so that his cheek rested on the top of Zach’s head. Zach’s hair smelled like coconuts and vanilla from the shower he’d taken after their run: warm and sweet and clean. “What did I do?” David whispered gently.
“I forgot,” Zach said. “I forgot you said that when you were really mad. I didn’t remember where I got that. But I remember now. W
hen you were really mad, or frustrated.”
“Said what?” David asked in puzzlement.
“The,” Zach swallowed. “The dog thing.”
“Dog thing?” Enlightenment dawned. “Oh, jeez, did I say ‘dog-fucker’ again? Mom is always yelling at me about saying that. She says it’s not only rude, it’s inelegant.”
“Don’t say it again,” Zach said. He hunched his shoulders. “Please don’t say it again.”
David ran his hand gently over Zach’s cropped hair. “I won’t. Mom’s right. It isn’t cool. I should be able to come up with a more creative insult than that. I am an artiste, after all.”
“Yeah. Just not the dog thing.” Zach reached up and rubbed the scar on his neck again.
David froze. Suddenly things were frighteningly, terribly clear. He felt incredibly stupid. “Jesus,” he whispered. “The dog thing—the collar, the cage…. Fuck, Zach….”
Zach was instantly five feet away, standing with his hands fisted. “It’s nothing,” he hissed. “Nothing.”
“What did that fucker do to you?”
“None of your fucking business,” Zach snapped, and stalked away.
David caught up with him easily, grabbing his arm. “Jesus, Zach, don’t do this. Don’t clam up on me like this. Please. I’m trying to understand.”
“The only thing you need to understand is that my life is none of your fucking business, David. Why don’t you give me a break and go back to New York and your boyfriend, okay? Because I don’t need you here poking around in stuff that’s none of your business.” Zach jerked away from David’s grip and walked quickly away across the patio to the path to the garage.
David sat down on the rim of the pool and pulled off his running shoes and socks so he could dunk his feet in the water. Stupid, he berated himself. He knew better than to push Zach, knew Zach would take refuge in anger whenever he felt threatened. But the whole dog thing freaked David out to no end, and what he was thinking—the terrible things he was suspecting…. He felt sick.
Dreamspinner Press Year Four Greatest Hits Page 11
