by Posy Roberts
“Hey.” He shook the tent.
Still nothing.
So he unzipped it and stepped inside, shocked to find his stuff. Well, not all of it. His blankets were missing, but in their place, sitting right on his pillow, were three new ones, neatly folded.
He reached for the windup lantern to see better. A few cranks later, and he noticed a notecard sitting atop the pile of blankets. He was wary but too curious to not read it.
The stationery was thick with a bold plaid pattern on the front.
Sebastian,
Sorry about your father. I had no idea that’s who I was meeting. I’m sorry you were surprised. So sorry.
Okay, I’ll stop apologizing. But you know how I am.
Now, new blankets as the others had too many holes to survive my washer and dryer. Try these instead. If you want something different, we can go shopping for them together.
Oh, and a pair of socks.
Hope things went well with Blanche.
Louis
He added his phone number below his signature, which was loopy and beautiful compared to his print on the rest of the note.
Sure enough, there was a pair of socks there too, the thick, comfy kind with a bee on them that had made Sebastian sigh after putting them on.
Sebastian flipped the note over to see if there was any mention of the tent. Where had the tent come from? Magical tent fairies? Louis would surely have mentioned the tent if he gave it to him, but all the note talked about was apologies, fucking blankets, and socks?
The next morning after returning from an unsatisfying sponge bath at one of the few places he could still do that, he stepped into his tent to find another pair of socks sitting beside his lantern, which was on. Another note, a thermos, and a bento box filled to the brim with all his favorite breakfast foods. Piping hot.
More plaid stationery, and his gold ring was tucked inside the envelope.
Socks for an otter.
He scrambled out of the tent and took off in the direction Louis had parked that day they’d come here. He couldn’t have been at the tent long ago. Sebastian should be able to catch up.
But he had no luck. Louis was nowhere to be found.
When he got back to the tent, he ate the food Louis had cooked for him and sipped the coffee he’d made to perfection.
He slipped his gold ring on his ring finger, right next to Louis’s silver one.
He thumbed across the design stitched into the socks, a cute little otter resting on his back and eating a fish as he floated along some endless waterway.
Carefree.
If only.
The following day there was a pair of warm winter boots, a warm coat, a new hat that was insulated to the hilt, slittens to match, and another pair of socks. The socks, this time, came up to his knees. They were thick and probably wool.
The note listed each thing, but still the tent went unmentioned.
It had to have come from Louis. Who else would do this? But Javon was tight-lipped, refusing to say anything, which was weird. He usually couldn’t keep a secret.
As he arrived at Blanche’s house that day for his second day of work, he asked her if she’d delivered it. She hadn’t. That was the only other person who could possibly have helped out like this.
He’d visited the boarding house and taken the tour, and he was still considering it, but . . .
But he’d come home to a tent.
“Is that why you’ve turned down my offer of the room?” Blanche asked, always ten steps ahead of him.
“I want to know where it came from. Who would do that?”
She smiled, all-knowing. “I think you already have the answer to that question.”
“But why would he set that up without mentioning it?”
“Maybe he didn’t do it for recognition.”
“Yet he wants to be recognized for coffee and socks and blankets?”
“Maybe he’s trying to tell you something.”
He stared at her, confused. “Do you know something? Because I don’t get this. It’s . . . weird.”
“Why don’t you call him and ask him yourself. I have his number right here.”
“I have his number,” he grumbled.
“Oh? He called the other day frantic, begging me to give him your number, but, of course, I can’t. Against employment laws and all that.”
“He wanted my number?”
“Yes.”
“What for?”
“To talk with you, silly boy. To clear the air. To . . .” She shrugged. “I don’t know, to beg you to be his boyfriend again after your messy, public breakup.”
Sebastian didn’t laugh at that. He should’ve.
His old self would’ve.
But now, he didn’t find any of it funny.
Not one single bit.
25
Go Bigger
Would this work? Javon seemed to think so. Marvin did too. Even Leah was on board despite thinking his other grand gestures were puny gestures. But he’d liked Javon’s advice better. Smaller was better with Sebastian, or at least thoughtful was better.
Marvin had helped him plan this, gotten the right permit and anything else he needed. He was the man to hire. Beyond the logistics, Marvin knew about food and cooking for a crowd after working in a kitchen for how many years. He’d taken Louis’s project on because it involved Sebastian.
Louis made his way over snowy terrain, thankful for the thick tires on this food cart he’d rented as he tromped through the wet mess. Marvin was meeting him here to help, but so far, he was nowhere to be seen.
Louis pulled out his phone to check the time, and sure thing, he was early. He’d barely been able to keep it together these last few days with all his restless energy. At least he had a project to put his focus on besides the small jobs from Oscar that had nearly trickled to a stop in favor of holiday parties every evening.
Just as he was about to slip his phone away, a text from an unknown number lit up.
Tell me. I need to know. Did you give me the tent?
Seb, btw
And were you creeping in my tent?
Just coz you gave it to me doesn’t give you the right to go inside it. D-:<
So Javon never told him.
As he edited the contact to show it was Sebastian, Louis shook his head and sighed, trying to figure out why Javon played this so tight-lipped.
But Javon was a smart one. He knew Sebastian well enough to push his buttons. He’d promised it would take a few days but, “Bash will eventually break and get pissy enough to text you.”
The other day, as Louis was about to leave, Javon chased after him and asked for his number. Louis gave it, and a few hours later, Javon had texted to ask him when he’d be back with Bash’s clean blankets. Louis arrived with new blankets instead and to set up the tent before it got dark.
The two of them had made fast work of it. Javon seemed to be some sort of savant when it came to tents. The guy should work on a touring crew of some sort, like the kind you hire a guide for. He’d be great for that, but Javon blew him off when Louis suggested it.
Whatever.
But once the tent was up and all of Sebastian’s things set back in as close to the same order as they’d been in the cardboard house, Louis had stepped outside and hadn’t been back in.
He left Sebastian’s bag with all his important things inside Javon’s tent so there was no chance of it getting stolen. And the days following that, he’d dropped stuff off with Javon who promised to deliver everything, but the way Sebastian talked in his texts, Javon hadn’t handed them off.
Louis: The only time I was in your tent was when I set it up.
Sebastian: Then explain how the twelve days of Christmas got in there then
Louis: That would be Javon’s doing.
Sebastian: But . . .
The three dots indicating he was typing showed up, disappeared, showed up again, disappeared.
“Psst. Louis!”
Louis tu
rned to find Javon attempting to hide behind a thin tree that didn’t cover his body at all.
“Yeah? Are we playing incognito for a reason?” Louis asked.
“Sebastian doesn’t know we’re in cahoots.”
“Cahoots?” Louis chuckled.
“It’s a good word. Plus, it reminds me of my mama, God rest her soul.”
“All righty. Is there a reason why Sebastian can’t know we’re in cahoots, because I think I just spilled the beans in a text?”
Javon stepped out from his “hiding” place and said, “Well, shit!”
“Why shit? I’m about to walk over there and reveal everything.”
“I wanted fireworks.”
“In this city? Without a permit?” Louis asked, agog. “Not gonna happen.”
Javon gave a shrug, looking resigned.
“Does he have any clue?”
“No, but I’m warning you,” Javon said, “if this ends up in a fist fight, I’m on Bash’s side.”
Louis laughed, but only partly. He didn’t know what the fuck he was doing. He was trying to play it by ear so nothing sounded rehearsed. Sebastian could read fakery across the United States, and everything that happened tonight had to be real.
“Louis.” And Marvin arrived just in time to talk Louis off the ledge. “How ya doin’? And good to see you again, Javon.”
“I’m not doing so good,” Louis admitted. “It’s not gonna work. We’ll end up in a fist fight and he’ll hate me and then I’ll end up in a dreadful depression.”
Marvin gave him a little shake. “Breathe, man.”
“You’re lookin’ a bit green,” Javon added.
“You gotta get this started before your nerves get the better of you.” Marvin hauled Louis away from the cart and took his place, pushing it toward the encampment. Louis and Javon followed him with slow, plodding steps.
Javon hopped up and down. “I’ll go ahead and try to act normal.” Then he skipped off.
“To have that much energy,” Marvin said.
“Tell me about it.”
“Let’s do this.”
With each step closer to where Sebastian lived, Louis avoided going over words and phrases that wanted to pop into his head so he’d rehearse them. He needed to wait until they finally had time alone. He hoped he got time alone with Sebastian.
Today.
The moment they stepped into the encampment, the light from a nearby fire revealing them, Louis smiled and waved. “I brought some hot pulled-pork sandwiches and chili, if you’d like some.”
“There’s plenty for everyone and probably enough for seconds,” Marvin said, and at the sound of his voice, people moved. They trusted him, knew him from the pantry or the soup kitchen. Yeah, maybe they knew Louis’s face from there too, but Marvin was family. Louis had never been.
Sebastian emerged like a dream from his tent, and everything slowed for Louis.
Sound dragged and morphed, fading into the distance.
Sebastian’s steps were unhurried, long, and his arms swayed with a rhythm Louis could feel in his gut.
Louis smiled, lifting his fingers to wave, and then Sebastian was right there in front of him.
“You’re beautiful,” Louis whispered. The last thing he expected was the punch to the cheekbone and landing flat on his ass. His cheek throbbed.
“Thief,” Sebastian spat. No—Bash.
This was Bash, the defensive, ask-no-questions, just-reaction guy.
Louis got to his feet and waved off Javon’s helping hand. “What did I steal?”
“My bag.” Tears formed in Sebastian’s eyes, but he struggled against them, shook his head, and then they were gone. “Where’s my fucking bag that I left at your house?”
Louis looked on in confusion. “Wha . . . ?” He hadn’t been hit that hard that he couldn’t think straight.
“It had everything important to me in it, which you knew. Where the fuck is it?”
“I brought it to Javon the night after the party. You weren’t here, but . . .” Louis turned to Javon. “You didn’t give him his bag? You delivered every other thing I brought, but not his bag? That was the most important thing. I told you that.”
Javon stumbled over words, and it only got worse when Sebastian took a step toward him.
“Let him explain,” Louis urged, holding out a hand to stop Sebastian from lashing out first.
“All right. This better be good,” Sebastian said, posturing with his chin, clenching his fists like a prize fighter preparing to get in the ring. Light glinted off the gold and silver rings he wore, and thankfully they were on his nondominant hand. How would Louis’s cheekbone feel if Sebastian had punched him with rings on? Like brass knuckles.
Louis glanced behind him, toward Marvin and the crowd. They were lined up for food and Marvin was serving them, but every eye was on what was about to go down.
Javon took a deep breath. “You were so into him.” He gestured to Louis. “It was obvious. Not just to me but everyone here. He brought you this tent, but I knew you were still missing your bag. You’d need that. But . . . But . . . I knew you’d be fine for a day or two. You were off working, doing that new job, so what did you need that stuff for.”
“Maybe let me make that choice, huh?” Sebastian said through gritted teeth.
Javon nodded. “Yeah. I should’ve, but I thought you’d call him. He left you his number.”
“You know why I wouldn’t call.”
“I do.”
“You do?” Louis asked. “I don’t. I’ve been wondering why you never called.”
They both glanced at him, but Sebastian’s laser focus went right back to Javon, who looked genuinely scared.
“I didn’t mean to fuck with your stuff,” Javon said through a whine. “I wanted you to fix this on your own terms. I was just trying to speed it along.”
“How?” Sebastian demanded.
“By leaving you the gifts he brought you a little at a time. I put them in your tent so you’d discover them once you got back. I thought they’d . . . Ah fuck, I don’t know. Melt your heart? And then when they didn’t, I called Louis and told him we needed to go bigger. He wanted to bring food for everyone and talk to you. I kept the bag in my tent because I didn’t think his food idea was a big enough deal to get you to lower your defenses.”
Louis was so confused. Javon was the one who told him to go small and meaningful, but what he’d tried to do wasn’t good enough, so . . .
“It doesn’t matter anymore why you did it, Javon,” Louis said. “At least not right this second. But I think Sebastian deserves to have everything of his that’s still in your tent.”
Javon nodded and backed into his tent, emerging a few moments later with Sebastian’s familiar backpack and another pair of socks. The ones with wolves all over them. The otter and the wolf, to symbolize them.
Louis shook his head at how stupid the gesture seemed now that he knew how angry Sebastian was about not getting his bag back.
“I’m sorry, Bash,” Javon said, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I thought I was helping you get over your pride enough that you could see what a good man Louis is, but I fucked up.”
“You fucked up,” Sebastian said as he drew Javon into a fierce hug. “You fucked up and got it exactly right too, you fucking bastard.”
Javon laughed through his tears as he gripped on to Sebastian for dear life. “You’re like a kid brother I never had, but I went too far. I played one too many games. Sorry.”
Sebastian pulled back so he could press his forehead to Javon’s. It looked like a familiar ritual the two had as their breaths evened out and matched each other. All Louis could do was look on as his heart filled with contentment.
Then Sebastian turned to Louis and pointed. “You. In the tent. Now.”
Louis was terrified, but he didn’t even consider not following directions.
26
Visible
Sebastian zipped the tent behind him, tossed his bag and wolf
socks inside, and sat down to Louis looking around his tent in pure wonder.
“It’s amazing in here,” Louis said on an exhale as he sat.
“It’ll be even better once I unpack my most precious things.”
The small smile at the corner of Louis’s mouth foretold his snark. “You’re house proud.”
“Wouldn’t you be if the tables were turned?”
“I like it.”
“The eclectic style?” Sebastian winked. He didn’t have much of a style choice.
“You put it together very well.”
Sebastian patted his bag. “Let’s see how well you like it after I unpack all this.”
“I’m sorry about the misunderstanding. Javon said there was too much risk leaving it in the new tent. People were hovering. Too many busybodies, so I trusted him.”
Sebastian leaned back on an elbow. “I trust him with my life, even if he pisses me off to no end at times, but you did nothing wrong. He means well, and he was right. I would’ve eventually called you to ask for my stuff back. I just wasn’t there yet.”
Louis pointed toward the door. “Should I go and wait until you’re ready?”
“No.” He chuckled because he could picture Louis actually leaving to respect his need for more time, but he didn’t want that anymore. “I think I need a few answers, though. Why my father?”
Louis blew out an exasperated breath. “People knew people who knew people, and sadly, I got caught up in that ring with the one man I wanted to punch. I’ve never wanted to hit a person before until him. The things he said about you after you left.”
“Like what?”
“He honestly thought you were staying with a friend in Tribeca. He had no idea that you’ve been out on the streets. But I remedied that.”
“Did he believe you?”
“I told him where you were living, how you were living, and where I met you. I left him with that much that night. I wanted him to stew on it. He knew how to get in contact with me if he needed to.”
