The Arrangement (11 page)

Hand in hand they swept onto the ice recently smoothed over by the Zamboni, and Reed’s mouth dropped open in wonder.

“You skate beautifully.”

Carter let go of his hand and skated in a circle around him, arms tucked behind him in the small of his back, his eyes never leaving Reed’s.

“I taught myself years ago.” He held out his hand; Reed took it automatically, and they flew together, weaving in and around the others on the rink, past little children slipping and sliding, and others practicing spins, loops, and toe flips.

From his first time on the rink Reed had loved skating; the crunch of ice beneath his skates and the wind rushing against his cheeks breathed magic inside him. He felt happy, normal, and in control over his body. Having Carter with him made it even more pleasurable; each moment clicking by like the shutter from a photographer’s camera and Reed only hoped it managed to capture the brilliance of the day.

He sneaked a glance at Carter’s face and at the pure, exhilaration of his smile, and a swell of something indefinable rose up inside him. Elated over his ridiculous, unexpected happiness, Reed forgot the piercing cold and Carter’s earlier moody, secretive behavior.

“Come on.” Once again he grabbed hold of Carter’s hand, and together they sailed across the rink. For far too long, he’d succumbed to pain and uncertainty; they made for sad companions. Now Reed learned joy was what you made of it, and holding Carter’s hand tight in his, Reed realized he was happy; for the first time he lived life as part of a crowd instead of always standing alone.

After executing some impressive spins, Carter pointed to the café at the edge of the ice rink. “Let’s get something hot to drink. My toes and face are freezing.”

“You look cute with a red nose. I should call you Rudolph,” Reed teased Carter as they headed toward the exit.

“Don’t even think of it,” he warned. “Whenever we watch…” Looking stricken, Carter furtively glanced over at him, possibly to gauge his reaction, then started to babble about childhood holiday shows as if to fill up the silence blooming in the air between them.

With a frozen smile, Reed dropped Carter’s hand once they reached the walkway out of the rink. Without speaking, they returned their skates, put their sneakers back on, then walked to the café they’d spotted earlier from the rink. A few paces in front of him, Carter reached the café first, pulled open the door, and held it for Reed to pass through. When they were inside, Reed planted himself in front of Carter, challenging him to listen to what he had to say.

“You know, I’m not stupid. I’m aware you have a life outside the two days a month we spend together. You don’t have to hide it from me; I’m not a crazy person who’ll begin stalking you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Reed didn’t expect an answer and was shocked when Carter bit his lip and spoke, more openly and honestly than he had before. “I’m trying; I really am. But there are things I can’t and won’t share; not with you, not with anyone. I never pretended with you; from the very beginning I was upfront about what I was willing to talk about.”

Gone was the carefree, happy man who’d held his hand on the ice, skating circles around him. Those ever-present shadows that had faded over the course of the afternoon reappeared, shuttering his eyes, making Reed want nothing more than to wrap his arms around Carter and burrow close into his warm flesh. He wanted to see that light in his silvery eyes and his joyful, relaxed smile.

Even with Carter’s variable moods and prickly behavior, Reed thrilled to his touch whenever they were close. It drove him crazy not understanding why Carter refused to open up to him, considering how hot and bright their attraction burned between them. There were times he caught Carter watching him with a mixture of confusion and tenderness, and Reed knew Carter felt the pull between them as well.

Before he could answer, the hostess approached, holding menus in her hand.

“Table for two?”

Carter cocked a brow and posed the question to him. “Sure; right, Reed? We’re staying, aren’t we?”

He forced a smile. “Yeah.” He had no right to complain if Carter refused to tell him about his life; Reed had secrets of his own. Secrets he’d make certain to never reveal, aware of how Carter valued strength.

Following the young woman into the warm and fragrant restaurant, the voices in Reed’s head clamored, taunting him, shouting out his inadequacies as if he could ever forget. They let him know when Carter eventually would choose someone, it would be a man he’d be proud to introduce people to, not a trembling mess of a man, such as him, who needed medication to make it through the day without feeling as if he were being pulled in eight different directions.

But Reed wanted to defeat those voices. Dr. Childs told him he was so much more than his illness and not to give in to the temptation of striking off on his own without his meds. Doing so would only feed the beast of his anxiety, enabling it to break free and consume him. For years he’d chosen to disregard her warnings and play by his own rules, contributing to his problems by failing to take his medication properly. He resented the drugs—hated that they were a necessity, like breathing, air and water.

They sat at the small café table and Carter tapped his hand. “Hey are you with me? You look a hundred miles away.”

“Yeah.” Reed blinked and smiled faintly.

“So, are we good?”

Reed studied Carter’s face, his features fast becoming indelibly inscribed in his mind. The slight crooked smile, that sardonic tilt of a dark brow and those eyes the color of moonlight. One night last week Reed attempted to draw Carter from memory and failed miserably. He didn’t want a flat, one-dimensional picture of Carter, he wanted the real man, alive and warm next to him.

But if Carter knew the real Reed, would he still want him with the same intensity?

‡

“I
think it
would be wonderful for you to take Jackson to school today. It would give me a chance to work up something more challenging for his therapy.” Papers in hand, Helen peered at him over her glasses. “He’s made incredible strides in the past few months; surely you’ve seen it.”

Carter allowed himself a grin. “I have. And I know I haven’t thanked you enough—”

“Oh no.” Helen interrupted him. “This has nothing to do with me and everything to do with Jackson stretching his fledgling wings. I’m so happy he’s met these new friends. He’s become a whole new person.”

The bond between Jackson and two boys he’d tentatively made friends with several months ago had strengthened into a fierce friendship as only school-aged children could accomplish, complete with Saturday movie play dates, video game playing, and pizza parties. Despite Jackson’s overall progress, Carter hadn’t yet agreed to the sleepover requests, wondering if it was too fast, too soon.

“I agree. Do you think I held him back these last few years? I didn’t mean to hurt him in any way. You know that.”

They weren’t often demonstrative with each other; perhaps Helen sensed his need to keep his distance from people. But today she put her hand on his and squeezed it tight.

“You were doing what you thought best for Jackson’s benefit. You’ve sacrificed almost your whole life these past three years. Because of you he feels safe and secure and ready to test the waters of friendships.” She tightened her grip even more. “Did you ever imagine he’d be at this place when he came to you those years ago? I have to confess I hadn’t ever seen such a sad little boy.” She took off her glasses and wiped her eyes with a napkin.

For Carter, it was hard to believe Jacks hadn’t always been with him, where each smile became a small victory to be won at the end of the day. Without him the kitchen table would be empty, no schoolwork, books, or pictures stacked haphazardly across the surface. There’d be no toys spilling out into the hallway or piled in the corner of the living room. From the moment their mother showed up and left Jacks, Carter had been consumed with making sure he got it right even if he had no idea what right was. But for certain he already knew about wrong. That would be his own life. No structure, no love, no family dinners or bedtime stories. With every breath, Carter made sure Jackson would have what he, Carter, lacked as a child and so much more—friends, security, and love. And if it meant that for Jackson to live a stable, healthy life Carter would have to give up thoughts of a relationship, he was fine with that. From childhood, being alone was all Carter knew.

Jackson’s art therapy had evolved as well—from the dark and sad pictures he drew when he first came to live with Carter, forever depicting a lonely child standing in a corner, to the more frequent bright and colorful scenes of birds and animals and groups of happy, smiling children. Jacks’s doctors informed Carter these were all signs the therapy was successful.

“I have you to thank for his breakthroughs; I never could’ve done any of this by myself. I know I don’t say it often enough, but you’ve been a godsend, Helen.”

“All Jackson needed was someone to love him and be a steady presence in his life. We might never know what he went through as a young child, but my guess is your mother didn’t provide much stability for him, and the trust issues he has are going to take several more years to work through. But you
are
making headway. Slow as it may seem, this is the right way.”

The thought of his mother being a stable presence in anyone’s life almost choked him with laughter. The government required a license to drive a car and own a dog, but to bring a child into this world and be a parent—there you were on your own. It had been a while since he thought about his childhood; he didn’t believe in dwelling on the past. Instead, he focused all his energy on shielding his little brother from all the people who might hurt him.
Trust no one
had been his motto for years and it had served him well.

“I’ll always be there for him. He’s part of my life, and I’ll never give him up. I know he’s making progress, but it’s taken him so many years to get to this point, I won’t let anything get in the way of him leading the most normal life possible.”

The first time he took Jacks to a child psychiatrist, the doctor stressed the main objective was for Jacks to comprehend Carter wouldn’t disappear on him like their mother had. Stability and security were the key words the doctor repeated, and they’d become Carter’s mantra. The doctor also warned Jacks might have a hard time learning to trust Carter. For all that their mother was a neglectful person, she was still the only parent Jacks had ever known and Carter was yet a stranger.

From his own childhood, Carter remembered the never-ending procession of men his mother brought home, how he would try to make them like him by doing whatever they asked, only to have them vanish overnight, each replaced by someone new. His mother believed any one of those men would be her meal ticket out of a life of poverty and hopelessness. Even at his young age, Carter knew better. When he grew up, he promised himself, watching his mother move from man to man, no one would ever use him or take advantage of him again.

“Speaking of leading a normal life, you need to take a page from your own book, Carter. Have you ever thought about settling down?”

There was no condemnation in Helen’s voice, only sadness. Over the past few years, as they’d grown closer taking care of Jacks, Carter confided to her his need to get away, sensing she’d never judge him, and he was right. Above all, she wanted him to be happy.

“I have, yes, as a matter of fact. I’m seeing someone with a similar mindset—neither one of us wants anything permanent.” Thoughts of Reed, his sweet smile and open heart, stirred an odd yearning within Carter. Nothing sexual, which startled him the most. Yes, he wanted Reed as much now as the first time he saw him, maybe even more if that was possible, but it had blossomed into so much more than mere physical desire. Mundane, silly things occurred during the workday and often he found himself wanting to share them with Reed. He’d be a click away from sending a text or funny joke to Reed, or once or twice a dirty picture, then catch himself and wonder what the hell he was thinking. This wasn’t part of their arrangement.

“Whomever you’re seeing on those weekends you disappear has changed you. You’re lighter and more at ease. I’ve noticed the difference immediately, and I’m wondering if Jackson does too. Part of his recovery might be the fact that you’re much calmer now. You should seriously consider bringing this man around one day to meet Jackson.”

He shook his head before she finished speaking.

“No, I don’t think that’d be wise.”

“Why not?”

He didn’t know why. Over the months that he’d been seeing Reed, the excuses he’d made in the past no longer seemed relevant. Things between him and Reed had accelerated from simple (okay, not simple, pretty amazing) sex in a hotel room to dancing and then ice-skating in public where the time flew by instead of dragging. Their weekends together had progressed from all sex, all the time, to dinners out, then cuddling on the sofa in the hotel suite, watching a movie. They went to museums, browsed through the shops in SoHo and Tribeca, and on the last Saturday afternoon they’d spent together, Carter had scored almost-impossible-to-get tickets for a Broadway show and surprised Reed with them.