Pick Up the Pieces

by Tinnean

  “I do not need your money, Teodore.”

  “Is someone dying, then? I mean, twelve years, Poppa. You never felt the need to see me in all that time, so why now?”

  “I did not know where you were. Your sister knew. Even your mother knew. But me, I was left in the dark.” There was bitterness in his voice, which was rising, and he drew a deep breath. “You have every right to be resentful, my son, but I too have this right.”

  “Oh, no. You just hold on. You have no right to resent me. You told me you no longer had a son. You told me if I didn’t stop being gay, you wanted me out of your house. You told me….” It was killing me, repeating what he’d told me.

  “Teodore, how many times did you refuse to listen to what I said? And this one time, you chose to listen? Arketá! I am Greek. You know the temper we Greeks have. I never wanted you to leave.”

  I felt as if I’d been punched in the chest. “You never…?” I could have howled and torn my hair.

  “But you ran out of the house, and I would not permit myself to look for you, no matter how your mother pleaded with me. Pride, eh?”

  “You brush it off to pride?” Wills’s face was flushed. I’d never seen him look so furious, not even when he’d confronted me after I had broken up with him over his answering machine. “Do you have any idea what your words did to Theo? What they cost him? He—”

  I nudged him, and when I had his attention, I shook my head. My family didn’t know that for twelve years I’d had to sell my body in order to survive, and I didn’t want them to ever know that. Better they thought whatever it was they thought.

  Wills shut up, but I could see he was still pissed.

  “Teodore….” Poppa tried to smile. “Please, could you ask your friend to perhaps put away his gun?”

  I laughed, realizing only after the sound came out of my mouth how hysterical I must seem. How had I not seen the gun in Wills’s hand? My brain felt muzzy.

  Wills stalked off. Yeah, he was pissed.

  “Excuse us a minute, please.” I went after him.

  He was in the bedroom, and he threw a glance at me. “Your father’s going to think we’re having wild monkey sex in here, you know.”

  “Then he’ll be disabused when we come out in a minute, looking none the worse for wear.”

  “Damn. And here I was hoping for a quickie.” He put the gun in the box, and the box on the shelf in the closet.

  “Wills?” I nodded toward the shelf.

  “I’ve got the safety on, but no one needs to know where I keep Butch and Sundance. I’ll put Butch back in the foyer closet after your sister and your father leave.”

  “Butch and Sundance?” I shook my head at his bland expression. “Never mind. Let’s get back to this quickie of which you speak…. We had a quickie earlier, in the bathroom.”

  “So? I’m up for another one.”

  “Oh, I am so going to fuck your brains out when Acacia and my father leave.”

  “You’re not going to offer them a place to stay for the night?”

  “No.”

  “Listen, Theo, I can go somewhere else if you want them to stay.”

  He didn’t want to stay here? Was he looking for an excuse to leave? “Where? A motel?”

  “Probably.” The only thing that kept me from smacking him was the unhappy expression on his face. “I think there’s a Motel 6 a couple of miles down the road. Or maybe it’s a Marriott.”

  “Or there’s Vince.” He’d moved into the attic apartment this past spring, telling me it was temporary, but he hadn’t had much luck finding a new place yet. I didn’t say anything, but I knew that, unlike the last time he’d lived here, this time he occasionally invited someone… a male someone… to stay over.

  “Not a helpful suggestion, Theo.”

  “I don’t want you to leave. This is your apartment too, you know.”

  “Babe, the last thing you’re going to want is to flaunt your lover in your father’s face. I can throw a change of clothes in a tote. Hell, I can pack for a few days. If he stays longer… fuck it, I can go to Sears and buy more clothes, or….” Did he realize he was rambling? “I know how to use a washer and dryer, and most motels have a laundry room somewhere on the premises.”

  “Wills—”

  “I’d need to bring my briefcase, and my laptop. The table’s already set for three, so I can just—”

  “You can just nothing!” I smacked his shoulder. “You’re part of my life, an important part, and if my father can’t accept that, if he can’t accept that I’m gay….”

  “What?”

  “Wills, I’ll choose you over him.”

  “Theo?”

  “Every time! You got that? You’re not going anywhere, tough guy.”

  He sighed and leaned into me. “I love when you get masterful.”

  “Damn straight you do.” I kissed him. “And just promise me one thing.”

  “Anything. I’ll even marry you.” A blush ran from the open-necked collar of his shirt, up past his cheeks.

  “You’ve been watching The Big Chill again, haven’t you?” That was one of his favorite movies, and he’d often quote lines from it. I rubbed my thumb over his lips, hoping it would distract him. “Poppa’s gonna know I was kissing you.” I didn’t let him see how much I would like to have him tied to me with legal bonds.

  “Fuck him.”

  “I’d really rather you didn’t, babe.” I brushed my groin back and forth against his, lost in a fantasy of us living together, growing old together.

  “Theo. If you keep this up, I’m going to muss you, and your father will really have something to disapprove of!”

  Reality crashed down on me, and I sighed.

  “Now, what is it that you don’t want me to do?”

  “Just don’t shoot him, babe.” I patted his cheek, I couldn’t resist—he was just so cute!—and gave him a final kiss before I left the bedroom.

  My father and sister were still in the foyer. Casey looked a little flustered.

  “I’m sorry I kept you waiting. Please, come in.”

  “May we see the rest of your apartment?”

  “Sure.” I led them through the living room, then showed them the adjoining offices and the spare bedroom, which had once been Paul’s. “That’s our bedroom.” I nodded toward the closed door. “And here we have the dining room. The kitchen is just through there.”

  “This is a very large apartment for just two men. You share the rent?” Poppa asked.

  “Yeah.” I didn’t tell him I owned the house, and I didn’t tell him it wasn’t the rent but the mortgage we shared. I’d been surprised the first time I’d gone into my checking account after Wills had moved in and found a credit I couldn’t account for. He’d instructed his bank to deposit a portion of his paycheck electronically into my account every month. Not that it was necessary. With the rent Sherwood, Inc. paid for the first two floors, everything was more than covered.

  “You don’t want me to feel like you’re keeping me, do you, babe?” he’d asked when I’d questioned him about it.

  I’d grinned, said, “Of course not,” and then I’d pushed thoughts of the expensive gifts I’d given him, the furniture I’d bought for his office, out of my mind.

  “Uh… you have been with this William Matheson for long, Teodore?”

  “A few months.”

  “How well do you know him?”

  “Well enough, Poppa.”

  “What I am asking is— Why does your… friend feel the need to be armed?”

  I shrugged. “He doesn’t talk about it.”

  “I hope he is not involved in something shady.”

  “Like what, Poppa?”

  “Drugs. Organized crime. Your Uncle Lykaios—”

  “Uncle Lykaios was a hit man, Poppa. Wills is a white-collar worker, a computer geek. He troubleshoots computers.”

  “If you say so.” Poppa shrugged. “I just… I do not want you endangered, my son.”

  “I
won’t be in any danger because of Wills,” I snapped, clenching my hands into fists. Did he have any idea how much danger I’d been in after he’d thrown me out? Oh, no, that was right, he hadn’t been expecting me to take him at his word. I tried to stifle the resentment I felt at that.

  “Something smells good,” Acacia said, stepping between us and trying to lighten the mood.

  “I made stifado.”

  “Momma’s recipe? How did you get that? She won’t even let me stay in the kitchen when she’s making it!”

  “Ma always liked me best?” It was meant as a joke, one we had shared when we were younger, but there was an element of truth behind it.

  “Oh, you!” She turned to Wills, who had just entered the room, and explained, “We used to listen to the Smothers Brothers album when we were young.”

  “It was my album. Ma had fits when you would listen to it!”

  Poppa offered a smile that almost seemed… hopeful? “I have brought a good wine, then, I think. Gaia. It’s the bottle your grandpa saved for you.” He held the bottle out to me.

  “And you never opened it?”

  “My son, it was yours.”

  “Thank you, Poppa.”

  “You will forgive me for my foolish, prideful hotheadedness?”

  I thought of what I’d gone through all those years because of his “foolish, prideful hotheadedness,” and I wanted to throw his words in his face. I felt Wills’s gaze on me, and I knew that whatever I chose to do, he would back me.

  All those years… I thought briefly about them. They had brought me to this time, to this place, to this man.

  “Yes, Poppa.” What else could I say? “I will.”

  IT WASN’T the most comfortable dinner party I’d ever hosted, but eventually it wound to an end.

  “Your mother wishes to see you. And your friend.”

  “I’ll see what I can arrange. Our schedules….”

  He frowned when I didn’t make more definite plans. “William.” He extended his hand. “We Bascopolis men can be very stubborn. Please. You will talk to him, yes?”

  Wills accepted his hand. “I’ll talk to him.”

  Acacia hugged me. “Please come home for a visit. Momma misses you so much.” She hugged Wills and kissed his cheek. “Welcome to the family, brother.”

  “I hope to see you soon, my son,” Poppa said to me.

  I waited to see what he would do, if he would offer to hug me. He hesitated for a moment before holding out his hand, and I felt deflated.

  “Sure, Poppa. Soon.”

  They left, and I went into the dining room and began clearing the coffee cups off the table. Wills took the dessert plates and silverware into the kitchen.

  “Your sister is nice.” He rinsed off a plate and put it in the dishwasher.

  “She always was.” Although with seven years between us, we hadn’t hung out together or had mutual friends.

  “Your father is….”

  “I don’t want to talk about him.”

  “Do you think he needs to be punished more?”

  “I don’t—”

  “You still don’t forgive him?”

  That hadn’t been what I was going to say, but, “Yes. No. Shit. I don’t know, Wills. Would you?”

  “He’s not my father.”

  “Wills….”

  “I don’t know.” He met my gaze. “I probably would.”

  I stiffened and turned away, feeling hurt and somehow betrayed. He put his arms around me.

  “But I’d never forget, babe.” He rubbed his cheek against my hair. “And….”

  “And?”

  “And I think… no, I know it would affect our relationship for the rest of our lives. But as I said, he’s not my father. Whatever you choose to do, Theo, you know I’ll be there for you.”

  “If I said I wanted nothing to do with him?”

  “It’s your call. I’ll back you up. I think you love him, otherwise I would have—” He bit off the rest of his words, lipped my left earlobe, the one that didn’t have an earring, and released me, then turned back to pick up another plate and put it in the dishwasher.

  He was right; I did still love my father. I scuffed my shoe on the floor, not bothering to follow up on whatever it was he would have done.

  “Whatever you decide, babe—” He glanced over his shoulder. “—you can still go home to visit your mother.”

  I sucked in a startled breath. “You’re right.” So much had happened in the past few months since I’d met him.

  “Theo?”

  I shook my head, dazed by the thought that now I really could go home. “Y’know something, Wills? I think you’re my good luck charm.”

  “Oh, yeah? I kind of like that. But how so?”

  “Well, you’re the one who found out I hadn’t killed Franky so I could go home.” I was such a dumb kid. The only source of information I had regarding murders was police procedurals or movies like Death Wish and Dirty Harry—and Poppa would have had a fit if he’d realized I’d seen them. I just figured if I stayed under the radar, no one in DC would care about what happened in Florida. “And then my sister and father turned up, and Poppa actually invited me home….”

  “When do you want to go? I can arrange to take some time off, but I’ll need to notify Mr. Vincent. There are only three of us in the department right now.”

  “You’ll come with me?”

  “Of course. Unless… unless you don’t want me to come?”

  I shoved the dishwasher racks into the machine, shut the door, then grabbed his hand and started dragging him out of the kitchen.

  “Hey! The dishes!”

  “Leave them. I’ll take care of them tomorrow. Tonight… I’m going to make you come tonight.”

  “Yes!” He smiled broadly and tossed aside the dishcloth, and suddenly I found myself being dragged along behind him.

  Chapter 28

  TRUE TO his word, Wills took off a few days in the middle of July, and I brought him home to meet my mother.

  “The house is nothing like yours,” I told him on the flight into St. Petersburg. I was in the window seat, and I couldn’t stop fidgeting. It was just a small three-bedroom house, and it only had one bathroom.

  “Doesn’t matter, babe,” he replied. “It’s where you grew up. Drink your coffee.”

  “I think I’d rather have a Scotch,” I muttered.

  “It’s too early in the day.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “Okay, no, it’s not, but you don’t want to show up on your mother’s doorstep drunk, do you?” He took my hand and wound his fingers in mine.

  “No, but….”

  He brought my hand to his mouth. “Then—”

  “Humph!” A pair of disapproving eyes glared over the back of the seat ahead of mine. “Fags!”

  “May I suggest you mind your own business, sir?” Wills’s words were soft, but I was startled by the steel in them.

  The man turned pale and sank back down in his seat, and I blinked. What had caused the color to leach from his face?

  “Now, as I was saying, babe, drink your coffee before the nice flight attendant has to collect the cups.”

  I raised the cup to my lips. I had other things to worry about than a homophobic asshole. How was Ma going to react when I told her we wouldn’t be spending the night? In spite of that third bedroom, we’d decided—well, I’d decided, that the best thing to do would be to check in to the local Holiday Inn.

  Wills had just rubbed my shoulders and said, “Whatever you want, babe.”

  Once we landed in St. Pete, Wills rented a car. “Uh…. A Jaguar, babe?”

  “I want to make a good impression.” He grinned, and my cock twitched. “Come on, Theo. Let’s hit the road.”

  CASEY WAS just leaving the house as Wills pulled up to the curb. She gave a long whistle. “That is one beautiful car! It’s a shame you’re gay, Wills. I’d marry you myself.”

  “Behave, Acacia. The man is mine.” I
pinched her chin, pleased at how relaxed she was at home.

  “You lucky devil.” She kissed me.

  “Were you going somewhere?”

  “To see a friend. Poppa’s down at the docks, and I just wanted to give you some time alone with Momma. We’ll be back in time for dinner.”

  “Okay. We’ll see you later. Come on, Wills. I’ll take you around the back way.”

  The door was standing open, although a screened door was in place to keep out insects and anoles—little green lizards. I hesitated for a moment and then rapped on the doorframe.

  “Eláte! Eláte!”

  “Come on in, babe.” We walked into the kitchen. “Hello, Ma.” She’d gotten so tiny. I hugged her gently.

  Ma cried all over me. “Oh, my son. You’ve grown into such a handsome man. And you look so elegant.”

  “Thank you.” I’d decided to wear lightweight mocha trousers with a short-sleeved gray button-down shirt to accommodate the Florida heat. Wills was dressed more casually, in khaki Dockers and a pale-green linen shirt, also with short sleeves. Since his maternal grandparents lived down in Naples, he was familiar with the weather. “I’ve missed you, Ma.” I pulled Wills forward. “This is William Matheson. He’s my—”

  She didn’t give me a chance to tell her what Wills was to me. “Welcome, William. Are you Greek Orthodox?”

  “No, ma’am. I’m afraid not.”

  “Ma!” My face felt hot, and I wanted to sink into the ground.

  “Hush, my son. If he is to be my son-in-law, this is something I need to know.”

  I frowned at her for tormenting me like that. There was nowhere in the United States where we could get married.

  Wills saw, and he rubbed my shoulder. “I’m sorry if that matters to you, Mrs. Bascopolis.”

  She sighed. “Ah, well. No one is perfect. Perhaps you would consider converting?”

  There was an expression I’d never seen on his face before, but it was gone before I could identify it. “I’d like to find a religion that would accept me.”