Faith and Fidelity (24 page)

“How are you feeling? We heard about your dreadful... accident,” her voice lilting a bit at the end, as if she wasn't quite sure if that was the proper word. “I'm so glad to see you up and around!”

“Thanks. And uh... thanks for the... ” he motioned toward the foil mass in her hands.

“Bundt cake!” she trilled. “Chocolate cream cheese. I hope you like it.”

“I'm sure I will. Would you... like to come in?” He prayed the answer would be no, but he didn't appear to have that sort of luck these days.

“Oh, just for a sec! I have to pick Tyler and Jordan up at tumbling in a few.”

Evan opened the door, letting Susannah and a gust of cold air into the foyer. Susannah shivered theatrically and Evan took the cake, instead of asking for her coat because he was afraid “a few” meant an hour.

Susannah followed him into the kitchen where he deposited the cake on the island.

“Sooo— when are the kids coming back?”

“Probably Saturday.”

“Oh, you must be so relieved.”

“Yes.”

Susannah did her “poor, poor Evan” face which curdled his blood.

“It's been a hell of a year for you folks hasn't it?”

“Uh-huh.” He looked at the floor, trying to seem more distressed than annoyed.

“At least you've had a bit of help. So tell me, who's your friend?”

The very air Evan was breathing froze in his lungs. He tried not make any sort of suspicious sound.

“Friend?” He got out, perfect in tone and inflection.

“Um— that handsome fellow with the dark hair who's been over here for the past week.” Her perfect blonde eyebrows disappeared under her poufy bangs. “Is he a relative?”

The lie slid from his mouth so easily it horrified him as much as it made him feel safe.

“We went to college together. He's been a friend for years.”

“Hmm... really? I don't recall seeing him around before.”

“He just moved back into the area.”

“Ah.”

Silence dangled around them for several long moments. Susannah never stopped smiling. She suddenly looked at the kitchen clock and made a squealing sound. Evan winced.

“Gotta get the kids!” She fluttered her hand in a waving gesture and headed for the front door. “Enjoy the cake! There should be plenty for you and your friend!”

And with that, Susannah was gone, in a cloud of fruity perfume.

Evan trembled. His legs gave out and he sat down hard on one of the kitchen stools.

Shit.

Matt and Liz sat silently for a few long minutes— a pot boiled on the stove, the clock ticked, and a slow static sound came from the baby monitor.

Breathing deeply, Matt felt some tension bleeding out of his skin. The words were still frightening but their power has lessened. Every time he confirmed and confessed his love for Evan, the rightness of it was reinforced. It didn't feel alien anymore to love this man, to imagine being with a man.

When he could trust his voice Matt went on. He found himself spilling out the familiar rap— a cop, his first time with a man, both of their first times, the fear and the confusion.

“He's a widower. With kids. That's why things are so difficult. Complicated.”

Liz's forehead developed a tiny wrinkle. “But he returns your feelings... ”

“Yeah. He... says he loves me too. And sometimes, things are just great. We're good friends; we can talk and laugh. And the rest... ” He blushed, embarrassed. “That works pretty good too. But... but Liz, he's got a career. And just... a lot still going on in his head... ”

“Has he been a widower for long, Matt?”

“Little more than a year.” Matt squeezed Liz's hand a little tighter.

He didn't like to think about Sherri's death and he hated to think about Evan's grief.

The wrinkle got a bit deeper. “Matt, you don't have to answer my question, but might I know this person?”

Matt sighed. “Yeah, Liz. You know him. Evan Cerelli from Vice.”

“Wow.” She took a moment, and he could almost see the wheels turning in her head. “Is there something specific in this relationship that you're having trouble with?”

“You mean besides the fact that it's with a man?” He asked sarcastically. “Do I need another reason to be freaking out?”

“Come on, Matt. The first thing you said to me was that you were in love. Then you mentioned he was a man. So what scares you most?”

Matt wondered why he even bothered to try the dense act around Liz. He really could not bullshit this woman. He never could. “At first it was the fact that he was a guy but that kind of, I don't know, faded into the background. Now, you know, it sometimes pops up at me but most of the time... I just want to be with him, I want this to work out.”

Matt mulled this over for a moment. In truth, as much as it frightened him in the beginning, now it just felt like something he worried about for Evan's sake.

He told this to Liz, and she nodded. For a second he watched her struggle with something then she asked, “Matt, can we talk about you specifically? How you're doing with this?”

“I thought we were.”

“No, we've mostly gone over how Evan feels, and how this might affect him and his career. But what about you? What do you want out of this?”

Matt opened his mouth then shut it quickly. His brain tried to give a quick answer but nothing came out.

What did he want? He wanted... love. A relationship. With Evan. He wanted to be around the kids, do things together... as a family? He felt himself get very still, and suddenly he couldn't look anywhere but at the shiny pockmarked surface of Liz's wood table.

After Susannah left, Evan just sat at the kitchen counter, watching dust motes in the frail streaks of sun. He felt numb. The lie he'd told about Matt hovered in the air. He could almost see it, feel the betrayal.

I was just protecting my kids
, he thought desperately.
I'm a father first. I have to remember that.

What if it got out?

What if the neighbors heard he was... sleeping with Matt? What if the children found out? He tried to picture himself sitting the kids down, talking to them about their relationship. Shaking a little, Evan put his hands up to his head, as if to stop the tremors. He couldn't even fathom their reactions. Couldn't imagine what they would say, how they would feel. They might be ridiculed, ostracized.

It terrified him.

And suddenly, a wave of panic swamped over him. He saw spots explode in front of his eyes...

What if they rejected him?

A cold chill made his bones ache. For a moment, his breath froze up in his lungs; he fought off the panic and forced himself to exhale. His children... what if this drove them away?

The phone rang.

He jumped, nearly slid off the stool.

With a trembling hand, he reached for the portable on the counter.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Daddy!” It was Miranda.

Rattled, Evan tried to get a grip. “Hi, baby. How are you?”

“Fine. We're all fine. Are you okay? Your voice sounds funny... ”

Evan took a deep breath, concentrating on keeping it together. “I just woke up from a nap, sweetie— it's nothing.”

“Oh, okay. I just wanted to know if you were feeling better, if we could come home this weekend.” He heard the tremor in her voice as the words rushed out and he knew she was trying to sound grown-up. But he knew his oldest girl— he knew how homesick she was.

“Actually, honey, I'm feeling much better. I think this weekend would be perfect for you kids to come home. We can go out and get a tree.”

“Yeah! The kids are going to be really happy. They can't wait to come home.”

Evan had to smile at that.

“Well, I can understand that. You know how little kids are.” Miranda gave a nervous little giggle.

“I'll come and get you guys on Friday. I'll be there early— we'll go out for dinner.”

“Cool!”

“Put your grandmother on okay?” Evan hated saying the words but he needed to make nice with his in-laws.

“She's not here. She's at church.”

Evan held his tongue.

“Who's there with you?”

“Grampa.”

“Let me talk to him, honey.”

“'Kay, Daddy. See you Friday.”

Evan felt his heart expand and contract suddenly. He loved his kids so much, so much. He couldn't bear to hurt them, and he refused to let more time pass when they weren't all together.

“Yeah?” A voice, gruff and edgy, barked in his ear.

“Phil? It's Evan.”

“What did you want?”

Evan's eyes narrowed. The slight slur in Phil's voice was familiar to a cop— he'd been drinking and probably for quite some time.

“I just wanted to let you and Josie know I'm picking the children up tomorrow.” He kept his own voice calm and rational.

“'Scuse me? I thought they were staying here till Christmas.”

“I never said that.”

“That's what Josie said.” Phil's voice got louder.

Evan reigned in his growing anger. “Josie was mistaken. I'm feeling much better, and the kids want to be home.”

“They are
fine
here, just fucking fine. This is a good home... ”

“Phil!”

“Good enough for my girls... ”

“
Phil
!” Evan lost it and let his fury fly across the line. The thought of this man, drunk in the middle of the afternoon, taking care of his kids, took all his self-control away. “Calm down!”

“Calm down?! Listen, you asshole, my girls grew up here... my good girls... my Sherri grew up here and it was a perfectly... ”

“
Phil
, I am picking my kids up tomorrow.”

“Fuck you.”

“What is your fucking problem, Phil?”

“My problem!? My fucking problem is that you took my girl away from her perfectly fine home and you let her die!”

All sound died, on both sides of the line. Evan felt his breath freeze in his throat; Phil's words were vibrating in his ears.

Phil let out a long sigh.

“Fuck you,” he said softly. “Fuck you.”

“I will be there,” Evan managed to choke out, “tomorrow. After school. I want the kids packed up and ready to go.”

“Yeah, take them away from us too. You gonna watch out for them? You gonna make sure they don't get smashed up?”

“Make sure they're ready when I get there.” Evan turned the phone off with a jerk of his shaking fingers, barely able to hold onto the cordless. For one moment he stared at it in his hand, unable to process that the conversation with Phil had actually happened.

It was almost like looking down at himself; he watched his hand rear back, watched the phone go sailing across the room, hit the wall. Motherfucker.

They thought he was a murderer. They hated him.

Suddenly the shock drained away and the fury came back in a rush. The wounds on his chest felt freshly ripped open and he checked to make sure he wasn't bleeding to death, it hurt that badly. Vaguely he heard a car pull into his driveway and felt his body tense up. Matt was... home.

Matt. Oh Christ. If they knew... if they knew... They already hated him, already blamed him for Sherri... He didn't want Matt here right now. He didn't want to look into Matt's loving, concerned eyes and feel comforted. He didn't want to fall down under that strong body and let himself be obliterated by lust, erasing all his well-earned guilt.

Evan just couldn't handle being reminded how much he loved Matt at this moment. Did he really need another moment to acknowledge that his wife was dead, that he had let her die and now he spent his nights in the arms of... a man. He couldn't possibly imagine how this was going to work out. The day might come... would come... when someone would ask for a decision.

Matt or his kids and his memories...

Shaky, tired, Evan walked over to the door and stood, staring quietly. He wasn't sure what he was going to say.

Matt pulled into the driveway of Evan's house at seven o'clock. Traffic had been a bitch— although nothing compared to his stopover at Toys R Us. Jesus. He had always imagined that's what Armageddon would look like. At least he'd been able to fight his way through the teaming masses of angry commuters whose last nerve had been stomped on hours before.

In the truck and backseat were bags and bags of gifts for the Cerelli kids. He'd bribed a harried salesperson— with fifty bucks— to lead him around and suggest age-appropriate gifts. Miranda was the hardest— he couldn't find much that would appeal to a bright, seventeen going on thirty-year-old— but fortunately the young man who was his guide mentioned a clothing store in the shopping complex that targeted the hip crowd... and couldn't possibly make a mistake by telling a teenager, -"Here's a gift certificate— free money— go shopping.”

Matt went heavy on the electronics— he figured he couldn't go wrong with things that needed batteries. Handheld games, radio-controlled cars, and the centerpiece of his gift-giving efforts— a Wii— filled the cart. His clerk gave him a supportive thumbs-up. He guaranteed the kids would go nuts. Add to that a bunch of games, software for the computer, and he'd moved on.

The dolls were next— he remembered seeing lots of Barbie stuff in Elizabeth's room so he spent some time in that section as well. Now Elizabeth's blonde friend owned her own plane, a show horse, and a speedboat. Matt was amazed at how expensive this shit was— he might as well buy the kid a
real
horse. He whizzed through games— did kids still play board games?— and threw a few in the cart.

Candy was last. Lots and lots of candy. Fuck the dentist, Matt thought gleefully. He then gave himself a little talking to about setting a good example for the goods and decided on a compromise— candy till they barfed
then
they had to brush.
Matthew Haight, role model
, he thought, smirking.

Getting out of the car, Matt pulled out as many bags as he could carry in one trip. He whistled, thinking of how much the kids were going to love the gifts, thinking of how much he wanted to spend tonight wrapped around Evan.

He'd never had much use for the holidays; after his father died, hanging around his mother and watching her drink scotch for five hours wasn't his idea of holiday cheer. Once he left home, he seldom returned, other to drop off a check and a dry peck on his mother's cheek. He'd spend the holidays with buddies’ families, or whatever woman he was in good standing with come the end of December.