Love Lessons (18 page)

This time she did laugh, and the smile lingered in her eyes as she spoke. “No.” She brushed off her hands and put them on her hips. “Okay, give me a minute to change, and I’ll help.”

Walter paused with his rag on the top of the frame. “Mom, you don’t have to do that.”

“You trying to tell me you want to do this all by yourself?”

She was still smiling, sort of. She looked almost eager. Walter felt something heavy inside him shift. “No. I’d love your help. Thanks.”

“Sure.” Still smiling. “Just give me ten minutes.”

It took her fifteen, but once she came down in sweats and a T-shirt, she was all business. Walter explained the dust-mite rules: they lived in cloth and carpet, loved humidity. “Don’t shampoo the carpets. They love that, apparently.”

“So his family has to keep their house that clean all the time? Good God, that sounds horrible.”

“Yeah.” Walter swiped a dust mitt around some knickknacks. “He’s got a pile of allergies. Milk and egg too.”

His mom paused with a damp cloth on the wall. “I don’t even know how to cook without eggs.”

“There’s a replacer, but he says flax eggs are better. Don’t worry, we’ll be gone before lunch, and I want to take him to Pie Hole Pizza Saturday night. So oatmeal for breakfast and we’re set. I already got him some soy milk.”

Shari went back to wiping down the wall, but she had a soft smile on her face. “You take good care of your roommate.”

“He’s the best. I can’t imagine having to room with anyone else.” He scrubbed slowly at the face of a china figurine. “Rooming with him is better than Cara, even.”

His mom stopped wiping again. “Walter, are you…?” She shook her head. “Never mind.”

Walter set the figurine carefully back on the shelf. “He’s shy and quiet and a little naive. I guess I get focused on making sure he’s okay. He has this look about him like it would break your heart to see him sad.”

“Is he cute?”

That question felt like a landmine, but there was something so lulling about the conversation. He couldn’t think of the last time his mom had been this interested in his life. Middle school, maybe? It made Walter hungry for more. “Yeah. Like a button.”

His mom just kept smiling. “Straight, I suppose?”

“Gay. But we’re not dating.”

“It sure sounds like you should.”

Okay, now the conversation was getting uncomfortable. Walter reached for the expandable duster to get the chandelier. “Don’t want to screw anything up.”

“I suppose.” Shari dropped her rag into the bucket and frowned at it. “Not that you should take relationship advice from me.”

Walter put down the duster. “Dad’s the asshole who left.”

No more smiles now. He dared a longer glance and saw the clouds had returned to his mother’s face. How pathetic was he that he ached over the loss. What, he’d thought ten minutes of small talk about Kelly would fix everything?

Stupid.

Shari put the bucket on the table and pursed her lips as she reached for the vacuum. When she fired it up, Walter went back to his duster job, and when she finished, he didn’t bring up his father again.

Things got lighter when they moved to the living room, but it was getting late so they quit after that. Tibby came home from a pony club meeting and found the two of them covered in dirt and grinning as they recapped their cleaning adventures—the look of wariness on his sister’s face reminded Walter that happiness in this house was an unusual thing. He decided he wanted more of it. Especially when Kelly arrived.

When he woke the next morning, it was to something unusual: the smell of something cooking. Something really good cooking. His mom was making vegan pancakes.

She was frowning over her iPad when Walter walked in. “Smells great.”

“Hey, you. Thanks.” She poked at the screen. “So, I liked this first batch I made, but wondered about this one with honey. It wants flax milk, though. I had no idea there was such a thing. I wonder if soy would be fine?” She glanced up at Walter. “Does he eat meat?”

“Some. His mom’s vegetarian, so they do vegan most of the time when he’s home, but I’ve seen him pack away pig. I’ll eat it, in any event.”

“Bacon it is. And hash browns.” She smiled, but there were shadows again. “This will be fun. And much better than oatmeal.”

Walter took the plate of pancakes she handed him and poured on the syrup. “Damn. These are great.”

“I know. But I really am curious about the honey. And I feel kind of gross making vegan pancakes with cheap crap sugar. Whole Foods would have—” She cut herself off, and the dark clouds returned in full to her face.

God, it was sad how desperate Walter was to chase them away again.

“I’ll go out and find maple syrup and flax milk,” Walter volunteered. “Anything else you want me to get while I’m there?”

“I’ll make a list.” Shari stroked his face, some of her shadows lifting. “I miss you when you’re not home, honey.”

I miss you too. Especially this you.
“Maybe I can talk Kelly into visiting over Christmas break, and we could try out all kinds of crazy recipes together.”

“Maybe.” Shari’s smile came back, small but present, and she nudged him with her elbow. “Eat your pancakes.”

When Kelly landed at O’Hare, it was complete chaos. He was pretty sure he’d feel like a BB in an oven even without the holiday travelers making things worse, but right now he was all about survival. The hallways felt like a narrow cattle chute despite the vaulted glass atrium ceiling above. Would it have killed them to make the ceiling shorter and the walkways wider?

Someone wearing too much perfume walked past Kelly, and he felt his lungs yearn to contract. Oh, that’s all he needed—an attack on top of it all.

His phone began to sing to him, and he pulled it out of his pockets with shaking hands.

It says you’ve landed. I’m right here at the security exit.

Walter. Kelly’s entire body sagged in relief. All he had to do was get to Walter. He texted back.

On my way. Way too many people and too much perfume.

Though Kelly knew he should have started walking, he lingered against the wall, hoping for an answering text. He didn’t have to wait long.

I’m not far. You’re on one side or the other of a Y. Where it meets, head straight until you get to the public area, and there I am.

Kelly felt equal parts ridiculous for being such a ninny and relieved that it was Walter he was heading for.

Okay. Be right there.

Putting away his phone, he gripped the handle of his carry-on and joined the herd heading for baggage claim. Walter’s directions helped, and it really was that easy. Soon he was moving through the gauntlet leading out of the secured area. His heart beat faster as he searched for Walter. He tried not to let his eagerness show, tried not to give away how he’d spent the last day being equal parts nervous and excited.

When he saw the familiar shock of dark hair, however, he couldn’t help breaking out into a grin. When Walter grinned back, his usual sly, I’m-causing-trouble smile, Kelly’s heart soared a little. Walter wore a black leather jacket he’d never worn at school. He looked good. Really, really good.

“Hey, Red.” Walter had his thumbs looped at the edges of his pockets, but his body posture opened as he came up to Kelly. “Good to see you.”

“Same.” Kelly knew he was flushed, but he tried to brush it off. “Crazy in here.”

“Yeah. Let’s get out of here.” Walter’s hand fell on Kelly’s upper back as they walked. “You have a bag checked?”

God, that hand felt good. “No, just this one. Mom saw the fees on the bags and said she’d ship everything. Though that means half this carry-on is meal bars.”

“Because you can wait for clothes, but not food.” Walter massaged the center of Kelly’s back briefly and let his hand fall away. Kelly tried not to feel bereft. “Car’s not far. I got lucky with my spot.”

“Was it a long drive?”

“This is Chicago. Everything’s a long drive.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

Walter rolled his eyes and grinned before punching Kelly lightly in the shoulder. “Red, Red. I didn’t know I could miss you so much in three days.”

Their eyes met, and Kelly could see Walter hadn’t meant to say that, not that way—but there were shadows in his countenance that made something deep inside Kelly resonate.
I missed you too,
he wanted to say, but instinct told him that would be a bad idea. He couldn’t think of how to lighten the moment, though, so he changed the subject. “I’m starving. Want to find dinner on the way back? My treat.”

“Oh no. I have plans for our dinner. But it’ll be awhile, so we should find you a snack.”

Kelly grimaced at the airport chaos around him. “Not here. Airports and airplanes never have food I can eat.”

“What do you feel like?”

“A seven-course meal. I’m starved.”

“Well, if you can wait a couple of hours, there’s the best pizza you’ll ever have in your life. Totally Kelly legal.”

Kelly’s stomach rumbled. He pressed his free hand against it. “Can we go now?”

Walter laughed. “No. We have to stop at the house, get dressed for the night, and then we’ll head out.” He frowned. “Unless you’d rather stay in.”

Something told Kelly Walter really, really wanted to go out. To be honest, Kelly did a little too. Going out with Walter sounded fun. Not that he didn’t do it all the time, but this was
Chicago
. “No, I’ll just have a meal bar to tide me over. Where are we going? Downtown?”

“Oh, hell no. Boystown, baby. Local gay mecca. I think you’ll like it. Besides, how can we not?”

“They really called a section of Chicago Boystown?”

“The neighborhood is called Lakeview, but the gay district is Boystown. Kind of like Liberty Avenue in
Queer as Folk
, except it’s North Halstead. And it’s real.”

Kelly had watched pirated clips of
QAF
in high school. It was good Liberty Avenue wasn’t real, because a few desperate times he’d thought about running away there. “It sounds great. Is there a diner too?”

“Probably, but not like the show. Pie Hole Pizza is there, though.”

Kelly’s stomach rumbled again. “Let’s get back to your place so we can go eat.”

He did steal a meal bar out of his bag before they stowed it in Walter’s hatchback, and he’d wolfed it down before Walter got the car started. Walter noticed and grinned.

“How about a big soy mocha on the way out? There’s a Starbucks before we hit 294.”

“You’re on.”

Walter bought their drinks, which likely he did because he knew it would annoy Kelly. The drive back was pretty thick with traffic, both on and off the interstate, but according to Walter it wasn’t bad at all.

Kelly decided he would never live in Chicago.

Northbrook was nice, though it and Walter’s housing development pretty much screamed
suburb
. Wealthy suburb, he added as he noted the cars lining the drives and the level of decor in the yards. Everything felt like a competition of wealth, one Kelly couldn’t come close to matching.

“When I was little and we first moved in,” Walter said, “I used to be so afraid of getting lost in our neighborhood because all the houses were the same. It’s not as bad now, because it’s been twenty years and people have changed the color schemes and the foliage, but man, at first it was so Stepford it was creepy.”

It was pretty Stepford now. “They’re very nice houses.”

“Not really. Expensive and posturing, mostly.” Walter nodded to a blue house coming up on the left. “That’s us with the light on.”

Kelly couldn’t help but notice that Walter grew tense as they pulled into the driveway, and he became worse as they approached the door. Remembering Walter’s sarcastic comments about his broken family and the evasiveness he gave every time Kelly tried to ask about them, he wondered what he was about to walk in to.

It turned out to be a pretty normal house, if not more elegant than Kelly’s own home. It was meticulously clean, and he took his shoes off at the door when he saw the gleaming white tile.

“Oh, you could have left those on.” Walter grabbed the carry-on and motioned him toward the stairs. “Here, I put you in my room.”

“Walter?” A woman in her late fifties came around the corner into the living room. She looked slightly haggard, but she brightened when she saw Kelly. “You must be Kelly.” She came forward with her hand extended. “I’m Shari, Walter’s mom. Nice to meet you.”

Kelly shook her hand. “It’s a pleasure, Mrs. Lucas.”

Shari and Walter exchanged a quick glance. She smiled, but for some reason she seemed a little sad. “I know Walter has a big night planned for you two, so I won’t keep you. I have a pizza in the oven for Tibby and me, but let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you,” Kelly called out as he followed his suitcase to Walter’s room.

Walter’s room was, unsurprisingly, very Walter. The bed was a sleek double with a dark, modish headboard and footboard and matching end table and dresser. Posters—framed and mounted—decorated the walls, one of his favorite British band, Saint Etienne, one of the Scissor Sisters, and one that was some abstract art piece full of greens and browns. The room was incredibly clean, like the rest of the house.