Nothing but Smoke (Fire and Rain) (20 page)

Chapter Fourteen

Nicky had been preoccupied all night, and Michael was glad when Nicky agreed to come to Michael’s apartment to sleep. He needed to do laundry, and cook in his own kitchen. Not to mention, Nicky’s house was still in flux—with boxes and dust and stuff that needed packing.

All the windows in the studio apartment were open, letting in the cool night air, and the street noise outside was louder than it had been all summer since kids were coming back to school.

They undressed silently, and Nicky got into bed first, his face knit with worry.

“You okay?” Michael turned off the bedside lamp and climbed in after him. Resting his hand on Nicky’s shoulder, he urged Nicky closer. “You’re fine with having gone out, right?”

“Yeah.” Nicky sounded distracted. “Your friends are nice.”

Michael nodded, snuggling into Nicky’s side. He didn’t expect they’d get off together that night, but Michael still liked being close. “Yeah. Too bad Jesse and Tomas couldn’t make it. They live down in the south end and can be lazy about driving into town sometimes.”

Nicky shifted so he was partway facing Michael. “I’d been meaning to talk to you about something…”

“Yeah?”

“About my mom. And her not knowing…”

“Uh-huh?” Michael cared less about Nicky’s mom knowing than about the other people at the hospice center. The problem was—Nicky couldn’t tell the staff he and Michael were together if he didn’t tell his mother. Michael had always assumed coming out of the closet was simple, and that it would happen all at one time. Man, he’d been wrong. “Your mom seemed really nice when I met her. Maybe she won’t react the way you’re expecting.”

“I don’t think I can tell her.” Nicky hung his head, like he was tired and wrung out and so exhausted by his mother’s battle that he had nothing left to give.

Michael resigned to be empathetic and to put his own needs and desires aside. “I’ll cope, okay?” Michael rubbed Nicky’s shoulder. “You don’t have to tell her just for me.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t be doing it just for you.” Nicky’s eyes shone in the darkened light of the room. “Sometimes I think… Maybe if I’d talked to her about it sooner…”

Michael slid his calf over Nicky’s, wishing he could massage out Nicky’s stress. “I know. And I wish I could know her better and that we could all hang out for Thanksgiving or Christmas. But…” Michael paused, not knowing if he should say what was on his mind. “I don’t think that’s in the cards.”

Nicky tugged away. “She’ll still be around for my birthday in November.”

“I bet she will be.” Michael was in no position to argue, but he suspected that even if Nicky’s mother was still in this world then, she wouldn’t be in great shape to celebrate.

“I wish you had time to know each other. I think she really would like you.” Nicky’s voice was so sad. All Michael could do was hold Nicky until his body relaxed and he slipped away into sleep.

Michael shut off the car and got out. His mom wasn’t out front for once, and he didn’t find her until he wandered all the way to the backyard. She was bent over some ferns, digging mulch into the ground.

In a rush, he realized that no matter how much she pissed him off and drove him crazy, he loved her.

He’d told her right away when he’d realized he liked boys, and practically the next day she went to his school to talk to his teachers about equality and rights, and to demand they make sure Michael was never teased for his orientation.

Maybe she’d jumped the gun—Michael had been horribly embarrassed at the time—but she’d cleared the way for him to be the man he was now.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Oh, sweet goddess!” His mom flinched, hand crossing over her heart. “You scared the shit out of me.”

Michael shrugged, the sadness that had been dogging him since talking to Nicky about Lydia tugging at his guts. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to.”

“That’s okay.” She pulled off her gardening gloves and smoothed down her skirt. “To what do I owe the honor of this unannounced visit?” She smiled at him, grinning at her joke, but slowly her face went slack with a frown. “Is something wrong?”

Michael couldn’t believe he’d come here of all places for advice. His mom was always shoving unsolicited words of wisdom down his throat. But sadly, he couldn’t think of anyone else to go to. “Yeah. I guess.” Another shrug. Maybe he should man up and start from the beginning. “It’s just that I’m dating someone now, and he’s going through some rough stuff. And I’m not sure how to help.” Michael nibbled the edge of his fingernail, something he’d thought he’d gotten over as a kid. “And I don’t know what’s right, y’know? What to expect. I don’t know if I should give him space, or push to be closer. We spend a lot of time together…”

His mother’s gaze was piercing. “How long have you been seeing him?”

He didn’t know whether to count those first few weeks as dating, or even include the very first time they’d hooked up. “A month-ish.” Michael rolled his eyes. “But could you please not be annoyed I didn’t tell you sooner?”

There was a quirk in his mother’s lips that said she would hold back her commentary for another time. “Okay, fine. But what’s his problem?”

Michael took a shuddering breath, as the enormity of what Nicky was going through washed over him. “Do you remember when Grandma Elba died?”

His mom nodded, her face serious. Elba had been Michael’s father’s grandma.

“Well, he’s going through something like that. But with his mom.”

Without a word, his mother opened her arms. And though Michael tensed at what was coming next, he let it happen. Weird as it always was to get crushed into his mother’s generous bosom, he realized that if he were in Nicky’s position, he’d never get a chance to feel that awkwardness. That mixture of disgust and need and even love. He wouldn’t have his mom to be annoyed at anymore.

“Let’s go have some tea.” His mother patted his arm and urged him in the back door to her breakfast nook. “We’ll talk about your man.”

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Michael stood at Nicky’s side, though Michael stayed two feet away like they were friends instead of lovers.

“I guess.” Nicky spared a moment to look down the block at the Mustang, which Michael had finally picked up from the shop. The paint was still rusted off in places, but it ran again.

Nicky was so glad Michael had opted to repair it instead of selling it for parts. Old things were worth keeping, taking care of, fixing. Silly that Nicky found Michael’s attachment to his car endearing, but it was one of the reasons he loved Michael so much.

“Are we going to go in, then?” Michael smirked, nodding at the front of the bar. Though it was still light outside, the bar’s windows were filled with beer ads and signs. Nicky’s firefighting buddies inside probably couldn’t see him and Michael, but Nicky still wondered if Cody and the guys were staring.

“Yeah.” Before he could lose his nerve, Nicky reached out and grabbed Michael’s hand. “I love you,” he blurted. Nicky’s stomach was filled with butterflies. “And it’s okay if you don’t feel that way about me yet…or at all. I know shit with you is—”

Michael cut him off with a kiss. And even though Nicky’s pals might have been able to see, Nicky relaxed and let Michael do it. Michael’s whiskers were soft, and he tasted like mouthwash. He tasted perfect.

“I love you too, dummy.” Michael set Nicky back, wide mouth smirking and blue eyes dancing in the evening light. “You think I go to this kind of trouble with every guy I blow in a park?”

Nicky grinned so hard he must have looked like an idiot. The big, shining bubble of happiness inside him carried him through the door and into the darkened bar, hand in hand with his boyfriend.

The guys were in the back, at their normal seats by the pool table. Usually, Nicky didn’t think twice about his friends’ hangout, but now that he was with Michael, Nicky realized the place smelled distinctly like spilled, stale beer and the carpet was not just worn down, but also sticky.

None of his pals looked up until Nicky and Michael had made it halfway across the room. Cody glanced over, and he gave Nicky a smile and a wave, before doing a double take at the way Nicky and Michael were holding hands.

On reflex, Nicky tried to shake off Michael’s hold, but Michael gripped him all the harder.

“It’ll be fine,” Michael murmured low enough that only Nicky would hear over the classic-rock soundtrack.

Nicky was glad as hell Michael hadn’t let go. If Nicky backed out now, he’d regret it.

“Hey.” Nicky nodded at Cody, and at the new guy Ralph who sat next to him. Nicky’s boss, Hank, was a few seats down, and he lifted an eyebrow at Nicky and Michael showing up together, but blinked a few times, as if to erase the expression of surprise from his face.

“Hey.” Cody slapped Nicky’s hand in greeting, his eyes on Michael the whole time. “Glad you could make it out. How’s your mom doing?”

Nicky knew his friend was just asking the same question the guys at the station always felt the need to ask, but tonight Nicky didn’t want to answer. For once, he wanted to talk to his friends about the good news in his life instead of the bad. “She’s okay.” Nicky cleared his throat. “I, uh, wanted you guys to meet Michael. He’s my…” Nicky could feel his heartbeat in his ears, and his vision tunneled so that all he could focus on was the reaction he was expecting on Cody’s face. “Michael’s my boyfriend.”

“Oh.” Cody made this move with his neck and shoulders, like a nod, but with a forward bouncing of his whole body. “Oh, well, uh, good to meet you.” Cody jerked his hand upwards, like maybe he’d go for a handshake, but Michael headed him off with a wave instead.

“Yeah, hi. You’re Cody, right? Nicky’s mentioned you.” Michael’s ramrod posture was the same as always, and if anything, it made Cody’s awkward bobbing and weaving seem almost apologetic.

“Yeah, uh. You meet the rest of the guys yet?” Cody twisted to make more introductions, appearing happy to have something to do other than stare openmouthed at Nicky and Michael.

All the other guys—even Hank, who was old enough Nicky expected him to say something mean—acted pretty much the same as Cody. Each and every one of them waved or shook hands casually, like they met coworkers’ same-sex partners every day of the week.

Nicky knew they were faking it and were more freaked out than they let on. But over the years he’d learned how to spot when people just didn’t know what to say.

His pals might have felt awkward. Or confused. But they were trying. And Nicky appreciated their effort.

“So, do you want me to grab us some beers?” Michael knocked Nicky’s side, but thank God he didn’t do anything as familiar as throwing his arm around Nicky’s shoulder. Nicky had learned that Michael was actually pretty reserved about public displays of affection. One more thing that made Nicky love the guy.

“Yeah.” Nicky smiled, hoping he wasn’t grinning like a freak at his boyfriend. “Grab me a pilsner?”

He could tell Michael wanted to kiss him, but Michael pressed his lips together instead. “Sure thing.”

Chapter Fifteen

“How are you doing today?” Nicky settled into the seat next to his mother’s bed. Her hand lay across the side rail, draped like she’d fallen asleep in an odd position. He picked it up to make sure she didn’t lose circulation and rubbed it between his hands. “Getting a good sleep?”

Nicky was glad Michael had gone back to school and stopped asking to come visit Nicky’s mother with him because Nicky was running out of excuses to keep Michael away. Each and every time Nicky sat here in this same seat, he thought of the words he wanted to come out of his mouth. But even when his mom was sleeping, like she did most of the time now, he couldn’t seem to form the sentences. Where to start? When he was eleven, hiding in his room staring at muscle and fitness magazines, trying to figure out what it was about them that made them so fascinating? When he’d been thirteen and rushing to wash his sheets so his mom and dad wouldn’t find out what had happened in his bed at night?

His mother had grown up Catholic, but she’d tried to be as open as she could with him about sex. Nicky recalled those awkward, nerve-wracking conversations in the car when she’d tried to talk to him about “changes” and how they were “normal”. Yet Nicky had known, already in those earliest days, the changes he was going through weren’t normal. At least not all of them. But he’d known his mother was trying so hard. He hadn’t wanted to push her any further.

“Nicky?” She lolled her head to the side, her eyes only opening for a second as she struggled to focus. “Why aren’t you at school?”

Nicky pinched his lips together, focusing on the good. She was awake and remembered his name. He’d worried that after the stroke she’d had a few days ago she wouldn’t be able to recall that much.

“It’s a holiday, Mom.” He bent to rub his cheek against her hand. The skin was soft, less dry than it used to be, maybe because her kidneys were failing and she’d started retaining water. “It’s a holiday, so I had a day off.”

“Good.” Her eyes crinkled in the corners, like she wanted to smile even though the rest of her face had forgotten how. “Good. You play.”

“Mom…” He knew she wouldn’t understand him. Wouldn’t remember. But fuck, he had to tell her now, while she was still conscious and had some chance of knowing. “You remember my friend? Michael? He came to the house?”