A Heart for Robbie (19 page)

he wanted to start writing the next book in the Black Heart series, the

words just wouldn’t come. Without words, he had no book.

Simon came to see him exactly once, apologizing profusely in front

of the nurses for bothering Julian with a forgotten form. Julian tried not to 106

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smile and wondered if Simon really did need him to sign it, or if he’d used it as an excuse to see Julian. They found an empty conference room, under the guise of giving Julian privacy to read over the form he needed to sign.

They closed the door behind them, and Simon stood shyly against the wall as he handed over the offending piece of paper, devoid of his personal

signature.

“Did you bring me in here just to sign this?” Julian asked, taking

the paper from Simon and looking around for a pen. He found one in a

cup on the far end of the table. Simon hadn’t moved from his perch

against the wall.

“No. I… I wanted to see you.”

Julian held the paper against the table and signed it without reading

it. Yes, a privacy agreement, it’s not as though he would change hospitals just because they were going to do X, Y, or Z with his name and address.

He had to guess every hospital had the same damn form with the same

damn verbiage.

He left it on the table, took the three large steps needed to reach

Simon, and put a hand on his cheek. Simon looked up, and Julian had

never seen such a naked display of hope. It gutted him. Their lips met in a hesitant, tentative kiss. The stark light of a hospital conference room

provided a slightly different atmosphere than a dimly lit bar or parking garage, hiding in a haze of alcohol.

Simon’s lips were soft under his, pliable and needy. He wanted to

keep it light, church tongue, but somewhere between their tongues

meeting and them pulling away, Simon made a strangled whimper in the

back of his throat, and Julian couldn’t help himself. It had been so damn long. He pressed Simon against the wall, their kiss deepening far more

into porn tongue than Julian intended.

They broke apart with violent reluctance, out of breath, and at least

in Julian’s case, half hard.

“When is Robbie being released?” Simon asked, taking the focus off

Julian’s thickening cock and putting it back into safe territory.

“Dr. Martinez should be around anytime. She said yesterday that

she’d release him today if he continued to improve, which he has.”

Simon nodded, and Julian could see the question forming on his lips.

“Let me get him home and settled, get us back into our routine. I

have a thing with my family on Sunday for Mother’s Day, but I should be

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home pretty early. Want to try for Sunday night? I’ll make… hell, I don’t know. We can order out for pizza for all I care. I just… I want to spend time with you,” Julian said in a rush, the last sentence coming out more as a single word than distinct sounds.

“I’d love to. Assuming my mother doesn’t bring a preacher to

brunch to marry me off. Oh, what the hell am I saying? I’d come over

anyway.” Simon winked, and Julian’s heart skipped.

“We look forward to it.” Julian pressed his lips against Simon’s in a

chaste kiss.

“Robbie will be there too?”

“We’re kind of a package deal. Is that a problem?”

The disappointment in Simon’s expression startled Julian. After

everything they’d talked about together dealing with Robbie, he didn’t

understand how Simon could think Julian would just cut Robbie out for a

guy. Jesus, he was no better than Kenny.

“Oh no, of course not, Julian. I’d love to meet Robbie. I just thought,

maybe, since we’d already put out on the first date….”

A barking laugh escaped Julian before he could stop it. Simon

relaxed, and Julian put his hand back on Simon’s face. He caressed the

contours with a finger.

“Robbie has his own room. If you stay over, I’ll bring him in my

room after. Trust me. I’m looking forward to dessert.”

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Chapter 11

SIMON HELD the door open for his mother, and then for Beverly and

Nancy as they entered the restaurant, the epitome of grace. He wondered

briefly if he threw himself on the floor and started to cry, like he might have done as a child, if he might be spared the next two hours. They’d

drag. He knew they would, because afterward, he would be able to escape.

He’d be able to see Julian.

Jesus.

If Dr. Dane or any of the hospital administrators found out about

their relationship, he’d be out on his ass. Four years of his undergrad and another three to get his master’s, and they’d be wasted if he were brought up on ethics charges. As much as it worried him, he felt surprisingly calm.

He could always find another job, but would he ever be able to find

another Julian?

He pulled out the chair for Nancy to his left and his mother to the

right while Beverly seated herself. He pulled his chair in as he sat down and the tie chafed the back of his neck. Let the inquisition begin.

“Simon, how’s work?” Beverly asked with polite disinterest. She

didn’t care, that much was obvious, but she wanted to get the conversation started. Nancy had told him her mother desperately wanted to marry her

off because a woman should not be living alone with two young children

without a man to protect them. It didn’t matter that Beverly stopped

speaking to her daughter for six months after her divorce because their

church didn’t believe in divorce. They believed in “till death do us part.”

She said her mother didn’t find it amusing when she asked if she should

have killed the SOB instead.

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“It’s fine. We were able to push through a gastric bypass surgery that

I didn’t think the insurance would approve.” Simon remembered how the

man had wept openly on the phone when Simon called to give him the

news. Of course he’d get a letter from the insurance company confirming

their approval, but Simon had worked with him long and hard, so he

wanted to give him the good news before the letter arrived.

“That’s the surgery they do on extremely overweight people, isn’t

it?” Beverly sniffed.

“Indeed,” his mother said without looking up as she studied the

menu like she planned to take the bar exam.

“It is,” Simon confirmed, confused, and glanced at Nancy, who

subtly shook her head once, but it didn’t matter, Beverly continued.

“Maybe they should just sew their lips together, save money on

premiums for the hard-working people who can control themselves.” She

pulled her menu up, getting it closer to her eyes so she could better read the offerings.

Nancy shook her head openly, warning him that this was one battle

Simon didn’t want to fight. Shock tried to override his senses, but he

didn’t say another word, unable to believe that a churchgoing woman

could have such a callous disregard for other people. He didn’t even want to contemplate what she’d think if she knew he’d chosen a man instead of her daughter.

The phone in his pocket rang, and he pulled it out to check the

display, much to his mother’s continued displeasure. Zack Hunter, the

program coordinator at the youth center.

“I need to take this,” he said, hitting the button to answer even as he

stood.

“Hello?” he asked as he made his way through the brimming

restaurant toward the lobby and front doors.

“Simon, can you hear me?”

“Yeah, Zack, is everything okay?”

Zack sighed, which was never a good sign.

“Is it Miguel?”

“No, it’s Bryan Finley.”

“The coach? Was he in an accident or something? Do you need me

to fake being able to play basketball?”

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“No, he wasn’t in an accident.” Zack’s frustration made his voice

harsh. “The board got wind that Bryan is gay and said that they would feel more comfortable if he weren’t coaching young, impressionable boys.”

His tone showed just what he thought of that assessment.

“What do you need me to do?”

“Can you come in and run drills with the boys Monday night?”

But I’m gay too, Zack. What happens when they find out?

“Yeah, I can do that. I’ll be there by six.”

They hung up, but Simon didn’t go back into the restaurant

immediately. Instead, he gazed out over the suburban parking lot with its cookie-cutter minivans all boasting little decals of Susie’s dance or

Bobby’s football. He hated the paper doll Republicans and their small-

minded criticisms of anyone who didn’t look like them or sound like them.

It made him sick. Bryan Finley devoted himself to kids, finding time in his hectic schedule to keep them off the streets, to keep them safe, and this is how the right chooses to reward him? It won’t take long for the rumors to spread. Everyone in the program will know he’s gay in a matter of days.

How long will it take for them to out you?

He shook off the thought and tried to steel himself to return to the

table. Instead, he flipped his phone over to the iMessage app and pulled up his last conversation with Julian.

Think if I chew off my own arm to escape, I can get one of those cool
bionic replacements?

He laughed at his own stupid humor and stepped to the side so a

woman wrangling two tiny boys, no older than three or four, could pass.

They were followed by a harried-looking older woman muttering

admonitions under her breath about how she would be raising those boys

to be perfect little gentlemen. Without comment, he passed the hostess and went back to his own table and his own train wreck of a lunch.

They hadn’t moved, but like some kind of perverse magic, mimosas

had appeared in front of their spaces. No way he would drink, as much as he wanted to block out their nasally voices. If he lowered his inhibitions with alcohol, something would slip, and he’d embarrass his mother in

front of a church friend. If he happened to mention, for example, that he couldn’t wait to get to Julian’s later so his date could bend him over the dining room table and make him forget his own name, his mother might

actually have a coronary right there at the table. Especially since Beverly, A Heart for Robbie

111

in her obsessive way, would make sure everyone at the church knew about

that Katherine Phelps and her deviant son.

When the server came back, a sweet little twink with one of the

hottest asses Simon had ever seen, he ordered a Coke and handed his

mimosa to Nancy while his mother sputtered quietly.

His phone chirped, and he checked the display.

I have cheesecake. It will look awesome in the curve just above your
ass.

Simon avoided giggling aloud by sheer will, and suddenly it didn’t

all seem so big anymore. The flowers on the wall didn’t seem so close.

The other patrons didn’t seem so loud. For once, he felt just like everyone else.

“Can we get some bruschetta, and maybe a few cheese sticks?”

Simon asked before anyone could mention appetizers. His stomach

wouldn’t handle breakfast as he fought the butterflies that morning. Right then, however, he was starving.

“Cheese sticks?” his mother asked, as if he’d ordered from the

children’s menu.

“I’m sorry, did you want something? You generally don’t order an

appetizer when we go out. Beverly, Nancy, would you like anything?”

Beverly pretended to look offended, but Nancy grinned.

“Yeah, I’ll take some of your cheese sticks.”

“Excellent.”

Beverly looked between them and shook her head. Maybe she didn’t

think marrying her daughter off to Simon sounded like her best option

anymore. He didn’t care. A beautiful man waited to make him dinner, and

he just had to get through this lunch so they could be together. He could survive anything with that image to sustain him.

The rest of the luncheon went as smoothly as could be expected.

Beverly peppered him with questions about his job, his social life, even his volunteer work. Apparently she thought he worked with children out of a

desperate need for children of his own. Her mouth pursed into a thin line and his mother’s dropped open when he said he’d never really thought one way or another about having kids. What he didn’t say aloud was that he

never thought he’d be able to have them.

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After a while, the attention turned away from Simon and focused on

Nancy, who told her mother in no uncertain terms that she was seeing a