Nothing but Smoke (Fire and Rain) (22 page)

Even though he knew there was no way she could answer, Nicky waited. He sat there, wondering how she would respond. Trying to figure out something she might have said to set him at ease and help him make it through tomorrow and the day after and the day after that.

“So I’m gay,” he pushed. Still no answer. Of course there wouldn’t be, but fuck it, he wished there was one. “I have been for years, I guess. Forever.” Anger made his voice tremble, and he didn’t know where it came from. Maybe it didn’t matter. “I should have told you.” She might have been furious. Or sad. Hell, it was possible she would have thrown a fit and kicked him out in the street. But Nicky didn’t think she would have. “I wish I’d told you.”

He nodded, paused. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

In his mind’s eye, he imagined his mom touching the top of his head the same way she had when he was sick or scared or had a nightmare as a little boy and couldn’t sleep. Nicky knew it was imagination, and possibly wishful thinking. But it was the only answer he was going to get.

Now that she was gone he had to choose his own answers. As much as Nicky wanted to punish himself with harsh ones, he chose to believe the ones Michael gave him. That the world was filled with good people, or at least people who were trying. And no one cared one way or another if you were gay.

“I’ll miss you, Mommy.” Nicky pressed his lips together so he wouldn’t lose it entirely. He rose and kissed his mom’s forehead. “I’ll miss you so much.”

Nicky spun away, unable to do this any longer, and yet knowing he’d replay it over and over in his head.

Leaving his mom behind, he pushed open the door and stepped into the hallway where Michael was leaning against the wall.

“You okay?” Michael’s expression was so serious. Forehead creased, frown digging into his short beard. Blue, Norwegian eyes concerned and stable and everything Nicky needed.

“Yeah.” Nicky grabbed Michael’s arm. He couldn’t curl back into Michael’s side now. He had to plan the details of his mom’s burial and funeral and everything else. No way in hell was he doing the service at Father MacKenzie’s church. “Let’s go deal with the paperwork.”

Chapter Sixteen

Michael’s dress pants were a size too small, since his mom had bought them for him to wear to a cousin’s wedding years ago. He held a bible in front of his crotch so he could pick at the fabric digging into his balls.

Hopefully people didn’t get sent to hell for thinking about their nuts in church.

“Thank God Father Walters could work this out on such short notice.” Nicky shuffled farther into the bench, taking Michael’s hand to lead him deeper. A handful of firefighters Michael recognized from Nicky’s battalion filed in next to them, each nodding his condolences to Nicky.

In the bench in front of them, Henri and Logan stood next to Tomas and Jesse. Jesse twisted to give Nicky a sympathetic smile.

“Hey. Um, I’m sorry for your loss.” Jesse and Nicky had only met a couple times, but Michael was so glad his friend had agreed to attend.

“Thanks.” Nicky gripped Jesse’s hand, and some unspoken emotion passed between them.

Michael wrapped his arm around Nicky’s shoulder and gave him a squeeze.

The church was decked with white garlands, and candles lit every wall. At the front, an enormous, gilded cross hung suspended over the pulpit. The place had a funny smell, more complex than the Nag Champa guys had burned in dorm rooms to cover the scent of weed. It smelled more like the smudge sticks his mother had used sometimes when she decided to try on some religion for a few months. Not unpleasant, just…maybe memorable was the right word.

Michael looked over his shoulder, wondering what the chances were his mother would decide to show up at the last minute. Between school starting and everything with Nicky’s mother, Michael hadn’t had the chance to bring Nicky home to meet her yet. But he had invited her to the ceremony.

In a flutter of shawls, his mom came bustling in and shuffled her way into the backmost pew. Seeing Michael, she waved, smiling.

He smiled back. “Hey.” Michael touched Nicky’s sleeve. “My mom showed up.” He jerked his head toward the back of the room.

Nicky turned, squinting. When he figured out which woman was Michael’s mother, his face cracked into a wide smile. “You have her nose.”

Michael rolled his eyes. For some reason, he’d never liked being compared to her.

The organ kicked up, and everyone turned to watch a procession of the priest and some other guys who flanked him. They all wore white with gold sewn into the seams, and Michael had to admit that the spectacle was pretty. Or maybe it was something else. Maybe
moving
was the right word. But Michael didn’t know if he wanted to be moved. In fact, he was pretty sure he didn’t. It was only when he looked to Nicky and saw the joy in his eyes that Michael knew what he’d come here for. To be moved the way Nicky was, to be together with Nicky through thick and thin.

The priest got to the front of the room and stood on stage. “In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.”

All at once, like a booming cannon, the people around answered, “Amen.”

Michael panicked that he had no idea what he was supposed to be doing, so he checked Nicky for direction. Nicky’s face was serene, and he pointed to the pamphlets people were holding. Copies lined the shelves behind the pews.

Michael grabbed a folded program out of the holder and checked for directions. Turned out the prayers were right there. Not wanting to look like an idiot, Michael answered along with Nicky and a hundred other people the next time the priest said his lines.

The rest of the mass went easily enough, and though Michael tensed at the mention of God delivering the congregation from evil—in case the evil they were talking about was his kind of evil—most of the service seemed to involve either singing or talking about Lydia.

After it was over, Nicky asked for a moment alone. Michael watched as he went to a quiet corner of the church where there was a wall of votive candles in small red cups. Nicky lit one, slipped a dollar in the slot next to the stand, and lowered onto his knees to clasp his hands in prayer.

Despite all the songs and the incense and the broad and hopeful words during the mass, none of it moved him like Michael was moved now. By the time Nicky got back, it was Michael who was wiping his face free of wetness, while Nicky’s eyes were dry.

“You ready to go?”

Michael nodded. “Yeah.” He didn’t feel right taking Nicky’s hand, so he just followed Nicky outside. Nicky’s battalion were all lined up to shake his hand, and most of them shook Michael’s hand immediately after without any of the nervous twitches Michael had seen when he’d first been introduced to Nicky’s friends.

Michael’s friends stood at the bottom of the steps, and when Nicky and Michael reached them, Henri pulled Nicky into a hug. Despite the seriousness of the day, Michael couldn’t help but chuckle at Nicky’s blush, especially when Henri grabbed Nicky’s face and kissed both his cheeks.

“We’re all thinking about you, chéri.” Henri rubbed Nicky’s arm.

Michael led Nicky away before Nicky had a chance to get any more embarrassed. “Thanks for coming.” Michael shook hands with Logan and Jesse, and then, a little more reluctantly, Tomas.

Tomas had always liked to give Michael a hard time, but today Tomas dragged Michael into a hug. A lot of things were unspoken in that gesture. Michael had no idea whether Tomas meant it as an apology of sorts, or whether he was trying to tell Michael “good job” for sticking with Nicky through all of this.

Unsettled by Tomas’s outpouring of affection, Michael took a couple steps away. He patted his pocket. After all the people they’d shaken hands with that day, he and Nicky were bound to have picked up all manner of germs. Plus, they were heading into cold-and-flu season. Taking out a bottle of hand sanitizer, he handed it to Nicky, before taking a dollop for himself.

“You almost ready to go?” Nicky leaned into Michael’s side, rubbing his arm. They’d be heading to a reception after this, and still had a long day to go until they could collapse together at home.

“Yeah.” Michael looked across the parking lot to where he remembered parking his Mustang and saw his mom making her way to their old family Subaru. “Hey.” He grabbed Nicky’s hand and urged him in her direction.

His mom turned as they approached. She wore a homemade cloak thing over her shawls, and though her clothes were a riot of fall colors as opposed to the black worn by the rest of the funeral-goers, her hair was brushed, and free of twigs and leaves. “Hi, Michael.” She gave Nicky a smile. “You must be the boyfriend I’ve heard so much about.”

Nicky nodded. His eyes were haunted, and Michael remembered why he hadn’t wanted to introduce Nicky to his mother quite yet. Michael hadn’t wanted to make Nicky miss his own mom more than he already did.

“I’m Eline.” She touched Nicky’s arm, and before Nicky could respond, she’d pulled him into an embrace. “I’m so sorry for your loss, honey.” If Nicky had been blushing when Henri embraced him, it was nothing compared to the crimson color on Nicky’s face now.

Michael tried not to smile, glad that they were in the parking lot, not right in front of the church where Nicky’s buddies might have witnessed his embarrassment.

“Nice to meet you.” Nicky disengaged himself. “I’m Nicky. Nicky O’Brian. Thanks for coming. I really appreciate it.”

Michael’s mother gave him a sympathetic smile. “I wouldn’t have missed it.” She lifted her hand, like she’d yank him into a hug again, but then lowered it to her side. “Michael’s told me you have a birthday coming up. You should come around. I’ll bake a cake.”

“Sure thing.” It was clear from the clouds in Nicky’s eyes that Nicky was ready to get out of there, to spend time just the two of them before the next step in their day.

“We should get going, Mom.” Michael leaned in to kiss her, making sure to keep a firm grip on her arm so he wouldn’t get dragged into a hug himself.

“See you soon, boys.” She waved as they left, then turned to open her car and climb inside.

When Michael reached the Mustang, he opened Nicky’s door first. Holding it, he watched Nicky closely, wondering about Nicky’s first impression of Eline.

“She can be a little enthusiastic. But she means well.”

Nicky looked confused, or maybe disturbed, and he paused a second in the bend of the car door. “I don’t think she was wearing a bra.”

Despite the way the darker fall months had paled Nicky’s skin, there was still a blush on his cheeks, contrasting with the somber black of his suit.

“Yeah.” Michael gave Nicky’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “She never does.”

“Oh my God, Mom. What have you done?” Michael’s mouth dropped open in a scowl.

Nicky rubbed his face to hide his chuckles. He’d gotten used to the way Michael and his mother bickered, and the look on Michael’s face as he ogled his mother’s cake was too funny not to laugh.

“I said white cake with chocolate icing. Why didn’t you let me bring one over?” Michael swept his hand at his mother’s kitchen island, at the cake she had made from scratch and the gloppy-looking brown stuff she was using for icing.

“I don’t mind.” Nicky tugged at Michael’s arm. After all, they’d be getting together with Cody and a few guys from the station on Thursday. The party at Michael’s mom’s was a low-key thing, with Henri, Logan, Jesse and Tomas. As far as Nicky was concerned, Michael’s mother could make any kind of cake she wanted.

“Well, you didn’t expect me to make something out of a box, did you?” She picked up a glass jar labeled
gluten-free blend
, and opened her cabinet to put it on a shelf.

“Yes, Mom. I did expect you to make box cake—since I specifically asked for box cake.” Michael had already gotten out a rag and was trying to wipe down the table as his mother did her best to get in the way. “And is the icing real chocolate, or did you use carob?” He reached to get a finger full, but his mother slapped his hand away.

“You won’t be able to tell the difference.” She tossed her head back indignantly, slightly pink nose in the air.

No way was Nicky getting in the middle of this argument. “I’m going to go talk to the guys.” He gave Eline’s arm a squeeze as he passed. “Thanks for doing this. I really appreciate it.”

Eline’s smile was more than a little smug, and Nicky had a feeling he’d catch hell later for siding with her—however remotely—over his boyfriend.

“You’re very welcome.” The passive-aggressive way she aimed the words at Michael were straight out of her son’s playbook. Nicky had to get out of there before he let out a guffaw.

Despite the gloomy weather outside and the rain that had been pouring nonstop all week, Eline’s house was a riot of plants and color. Paintings lay against walls, like she’d decided where they’d go but hadn’t gotten around to hanging them, and trees and bushes in planters were tucked into every corner.

Nicky’s mom had never been as into gardening as Michael’s, but Nicky knew that some plants were supposed to be brought inside in winter. It seemed like Michael’s mother had taken that edict to heart, hauling in the less-hearty stuff the way some people might bring in a pet from the yard.

“It’s the birthday boy!” Henri sat nestled in an oversized chair, feet up on an ottoman while Logan perched on the armrest.