A Purple Winter Read online

  “Whoa, hey.” Nick snatched the picture out of my hand. He’d walked in and I hadn’t even heard him, so enthralled was I with his photograph. “No, uh, don’t. Okay? Don’t look at those, please.” He pushed the glossy picture back into the envelope, before stuffing it under his mattress. “I needed a little extra cash. I—I’m mostly dressed in all of them.” He scratched his head. “Well, except for one, but it’s only my ass showing.” He chuckled shyly. “Never gave her the full monty, you know?”

  Curiosity, jealousy, and madness wrestled inside my soul, leaving me speechless and red-faced.

  Nick sniffed, shuffling his feet a little. He was like a colt, restrained, but ready to bust through a fence at the slightest noise or touch. “Look, things went south up there and I need to take off for a few days, all right?” He grabbed a big black nylon bag and started pulling drawers open. “She won’t let me keep the dog, and frankly, I think it’s more than that.” His face turned sad. He threw some clothes into the bag. “I guess a little space will do us all some good. I know I need it.”

  Where was he going? Who’d taken those pictures? Would they be published in some magazine? How could he keep throwing clothes into that bag? I was dying here.

  “Don’t worry about it, okay?” He wouldn’t look at me. He went to his closet and slipped a pair of blue jeans off a hanger. “I’ll give you a sign of life in a few days.” He zipped up the bag and picked up his guitar. “You fix things with your mom, all right? Keep your grades up at school.”

  I wanted to slap him. Wanted to shove him. Wanted to grab his face and kiss him brutally, until I drew blood.

  Finally, Nick looked me in the eye, stepping close. He pressed his hand against my feverish cheek and sighed deeply. “I know. I know.”

  The tone of his voice made my throat clench and I hated the tears welling up in my eyes. Hated them. I stared at him hard, as though I could bore my thoughts right into him.

  Nick caressed my face with the back of his hand. “I’ll be back in a few days and I’ll come looking for you.”

  “You wo—on’t.” I pushed his hand away. I was going to lose my mind. I needed his reassurance. His love. His promise. I couldn’t ask. Didn’t have the guts. So I drew away from him, backing up to the door.

  “O’Reilly, no, come on now.” Softly, Nick coaxed me. “Don’t get like this.” When I wouldn’t move or speak, he stepped away and gently scooped the dog up and his coat.

  I stood with my back against his door, blocking his way.

  Nick had his hands full and couldn’t reach behind me to open the door. He stood there for a moment, watching me with kind eyes. “You should say something. You’ll feel better.”

  He was right. But everything I wanted to say to him was too intense and would scare him. How could he be so cool and collected, when I was ready to fall on my knees for him?

  “Say it, O’Reilly. Speak your mind. Say what’s in your heart.” Nick let out a sharp breath. “If not for me, then do it for yourself. Goddamn it, man, if you keep bottling everything up like this, you’re gonna blow.” He tipped his head, frowning. “I know you have the balls. So speak up.”

  I took a shallow breath and knocked my head back on the door. Frustrated, I shut my eyes.

  “All right, then.” Nick moved forward, bumping into me. “Now let me by.”

  I opened my eyes and stared into his, the frustration turning to desperation, and then grief.

  Upstairs, Helga and Johan were arguing. Boone was quiet. Lene was crying.

  “I—I really have to go.”

  I only had a few more seconds before he left. And then what? What if he didn’t come back? What if he wasn’t telling me the truth? What if David was waiting for him out there?

  “O’Reilly…I have to go.” Nick’s tone was more impatient. “Move.” In his arms, Esco barked, and defeated by my own fears and lack of faith, I finally moved and let Nick out. I followed him up the stairs. In the kitchen, Helga was washing dishes, roughly it seemed, because the dishes were clanking loudly and cupboard doors were being slammed.

  “Don’t leave, Nicolai.” Johan stood in the hallway, by the entrance. “She didn’t mean the things she said. You know how she gets. She misses home. Still. Maybe she never wanted to come here. You remind her of so many things. You can’t understand a woman’s mind.”

  “Yeah…” Nick looked away at the door.

  “Nicolai…where are you gonna stay?” Johan tried to catch Nick’s eye. “Huh?”

  “I have a place. Don’t worry about it.” Nick walked to the door, past his colossal father. He pushed his feet into his unlaced boots, holding the bag, dog, and guitar. “I’m staying in town, okay? So, don’t worry.”

  Was he lying? Was he leaving for Vancouver?

  “You’re not taking Derek, are you? The boy needs to stay in school and—”

  “No, Dad, I’m not taking him.” Nick shot me a quick look. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your door.”

  The boy?

  Hurt, I grabbed my coat and boots and hurried out. “No, th—thank you.” In my socks, I quickly walked over to my balcony.

  “Son, you’re too slick for that kid,” I heard Johan say.

  Seconds later, Nick stepped down to the street. Meanwhile, I stood in my doorway, holding back the words and tears, watching him secure the dog in the car’s back seat. He threw his guitar and bag in the trunk, and then looked up at me. “You wanna say something or what?”

  I love you. Don’t abandon me.

  Open your eyes. Fight. Come back to me.

  The world spun around my head, and for a second, I wasn’t sure of anything. Had I heard Nick say those words, or had I said them?

  “You know, your silence is a weapon.” Nick opened his car door. Even from where I stood, I could see the tension on his face. “You have to be careful with that.”

  I didn’t want to hurt him. No. I was just so terrified of losing him if I told him how I felt. “I’m—I’m scared,” I said, something inside caving in. “To tell you.”

  Nick immediately shut his door and came running up my steps. He stopped inches from me. “To tell me what?” His voice was soft again. He brushed my hair back. “Don’t be scared. You…you might be surprised what I say.”

  This was the moment. This was the time to be bold. If I didn’t show courage and speak up, I’d regret it for the rest of my life. But Nick was so magnificent and I was so meek. He probably knew that I worshiped him, so why tell him?

  “Oh, Jesus, O’Reilly, take a fucking chance, will you?” Nick smiled, clutching my shirt and drawing me closer, until our lips almost touched. “Come on. I won’t make this easy for you. You need this. You need to know that you can. So speak up. Tell me.” He looked me straight in the eye. “Now.”

  Hanging by a thread, I grabbed his hands and the words flew off my tongue, out of my mouth, fast and straight. “I wanna belong to you, Nick. I wanna be yours. I’m jealous of David. Of anyone that wants you. I wanna be your only one.” I quickly hid my face in his shirt. “Oh, my God. I said it.”

  And I hadn’t stuttered one bloody word.

  Nick roared a laugh, messing my hair up. “There you go. And see, you’re still alive.” He squeezed my head. “Now look at me.”

  I shook my head inside his shirt. Couldn’t possibly.

  “Ah, yes, look at me.” Nick forced my face up to his. “Right here. Come on. Look at me.” Shaken, I met his stare. “Now listen,” he said, holding my face inside his hands, “whatever happens from now on, whatever thing I do, however far from you I am, whatever I say or don’t say, always remember that you’re the one I can’t escape. Do you understand? You’ll always be the one I return to. No years, words, deeds will ever change that.”

  I nodded, serene and complete under his loving gaze.

  “Now I have to go. For real.”

  He’d come back. He’d keep his word. Had to trust in Nick or my life would be nothing more than a purgatory. A place of waiting and wasting a
way.

  “All right.” Nick hesitated, then went down the steps. In the path, he turned around and smiled. “Oh, and one more thing. Don’t doubt yourself so much. You’re fucking spectacular, O’Reilly.”

  I didn’t know if I was spectacular or not, but right now, I sure felt like it. “Where are you going?” I asked, all in one breath. I knew he’d tell me now. Because I’d been brave. I was worthy of the truth.

  “Chef Helen has a little room in the back of her restaurant that she said I can use. Gonna stay there for a few days. It’s all good.” He climbed into the driver’s seat. Esco, who had been watching the scene from the car, jumped on Nick’s lap. After settling the dog back into the back seat, Nick drove off slowly.

  I understood that I’d be watching him leave many times again in my life, but that he’d always come back to me. My love would lead him home.

  Chapter 18

  Days passed—long and without incident.

  My mother and I avoided each other in our small apartment. I supposed it wasn’t much different than before my brash and thoughtless confession. She’d been busy during the evenings, preparing our modest home for my father’s return, as though the right vase containing the right dry flower arrangement could somehow distract my dad from the fact that he’d fathered a gay son. Because I knew she’d told him. I’d heard my mother on the phone last night, sobbing and whispering. I bet they were already planning my first visit with Father Neil, or maybe worse, a psychiatrist who’d show me ink blots for half an hour, and to each I’d say, “Nick’s eyes.”

  My mood was worsening with every passing hour and it didn’t help that high school was closed today, on account of the forty inches of snow we’d gotten last night. I couldn’t sit here in the living room, watching the street like a dog hoping for his master to return. Had to do something. Stir something up. Make something happen.

  Maybe David could give me news of Nick.

  “Going out!” I yelled from the entrance where I was already slipping an arm into my coat.

  My mother appeared at the end of the hall. Her hands were covered in flour. My God, she was baking. “Where?” she nearly screamed.

  “David’s.” I stepped out before she could stop me. She knew the Pinets. She even liked them. Outside, it was quiet and sunny. Kids were playing in snow hills that the plow machine had created this morning. But Boone was sitting all alone on his porch steps, with his chin in his hands. “He—ey Boone.” I paused by our shared railing.

  He looked up at me, his usual happy face twisted with sorrow. His eyes were fixed to mine and brimming with tears.

  I was transfixed, unable to look or move away.

  You’re my best friend, Red. The only true friend I’ve ever had. We grew up together, remember? It was you and me, our bikes and the world to discover. We played Maverick and Goose and you used to spend the night in my bedroom and we’d talk about the future and girls, but I knew you were in love with my big brother and it didn’t bother me. I was there for you when your life fell apart. I was at your side through Aunt Fran’s illness and death. I was there for you every time my brother went chasing after some dream and left you alone for months. Red, open your eyes. Nico won’t eat or sleep. He just sits there by your hospital bed, holding your hand. Derek, I’ve always known you were the strongest of us all. Now you need that strength more than ever. I know you’re drifting in your imagination, but I’m here. I’m right here. It’s me, Boone. Your best friend for more than twenty years. I know you think that us Lunds never needed anyone. That we only included you because you were so lonely as a kid, and then later, because you married Nico, but Lene and me, we love you, Red. We need you.

  Who’s gonna know me when I’m not sure I know myself anymore? Who’s gonna play chess with me when I have the weight of the world resting on my shoulders? Who am I gonna call when I need to cry about a terrible thing I saw while I was arresting some monster I can’t tell my wife about?

  But most of all, who’s gonna bust my balls with his melodramatic outbursts and wild imagination?

  Red…

  Open.

  Your.

  Eyes.

  I blinked and looked down at the porch, then turned to see Boone and JF running around in the street. What? Boone had been sitting right here, dejected and alone. But he was running off now, further and further down the street, and then he was gone, disappearing around the corner.

  With my mind in a haze, I stepped down to the path and stuffed my hands into my coat pockets. No, Boone hadn’t really said anything at all, now that I thought about it. He’d been playing with JF the whole time I’d been standing here. Yes, they’d been yelling things to each other. Role playing or something, and I’d misunderstood all of it. Boone wasn’t my best friend. How could he be? I was five years his senior. I didn’t know the kid very well.

  And why was I out here, anyway?

  David. Had to see David.

  I started off for his home, walking on the sidewalk, though the street was empty. Where were the kids I’d seen minutes before? And Boone? I was all alone out here. Nothing stirred. Not even the bare branches in the desolate trees.

  I was alone. So completely alone and lost.

  Baby…I’m right here…you’re not alone.

  A warm breeze lifted my hair. It brushed my eyelashes, like a caress.

  Nick?

  But around me, the world had turned mute. The sky was vast and cloudless. There were no living things here anymore. Where to go from here? No cardinal points to guide me. No heaven or earth.

  Derek…listen to my voice…come back to me…

  I had to get back to something. Had to make something right. But how? Walking faster, I followed someone’s footsteps in the snow, the only prints across the snow-covered sidewalk. These foot prints hadn’t been there before, but here they were. Within minutes, I came face to face with David.

  “What are you doing out here, Lucky?” he asked, spreading open his long black coat like wings. “You look lost…where are you going?”

  The street was full of kids screaming and laughing. The sun was out. The world had exploded into sound again. I was warm inside my coat, my blood circulating once more. “I—I was go—onna see you,” I said, coming to my senses. Then I realized I’d neglected to notice that David had a bruised eye. It was swollen and purple. “Your…eye.”

  David turned up the collar of his coat. “We’re you searching for answers? Looking for Nicolai?”

  Why did it feel like David could read my mind? He was turning up whenever I needed guidance…or a friend. At my home and in the park. And now here.

  “I know where he is.” David tossed his head in the bus stop’s direction. “Wanna go surprise him?”

  He didn’t have to ask me twice. Now that David was at my side, I felt much better. Something about his presence reassured me.

  * * * *

  Fleur de Sel was a little French bistro on Saint-Denis, right at the center of Montreal’s Plateau Mont-Royal neighborhood. It was Thursday afternoon, but with the recent storm, the dining room was empty, except for the tall man drying glasses behind the corner bar in the dimly lit room. His eyes were riveted to the TV that was hooked up to the bar’s back wall. It was soccer.

  “Excuse me,” David said, shutting the door behind us. “Is—”

  “Kitchen’s closed, kids. And I’m taking off soon.” The barman looked at us. “You’re not getting an ounce of booze from me. Fake ID or not.”

  I looked around the dark room. There were fancy little tables draped with white table cloths. The main wall was all brick and it smelled vaguely of chicken broth in here. Suddenly, I had an inclination to redo the seating arrangement. Why?

  “We don’t want none of your overpriced alcoholic beverages, my dear sir.” David smirked. “Where’s Lund?”

  The bartender licked his lips and set the glass down on the polished bar top. Behind him, there was a lighted enclave full of bottles of every shape and color. “Do I look like
his babysitter?”

  This guy wasn’t very nice. David shot me a glance and squared his shoulders, clearly not impressed. “Is Nicolai Lund here or not?”

  “And whom should I say is inquiring?”

  David raised a fine eyebrow. “Prince Pinet of Sweltering Cocks and Lord O’Reilly of Stutter Abbey.”

  The barman eyed us over.

  “Ah, Jesus, just tell him Davie and Lucky Charms are here.”

  “All right.” Begrudgingly, the man walked around the bar, past us, and through the swinging door at my left. “But wait here.”

  “He’s probably in love with Nick, too,” David said after, the barman had disappeared. He cracked a smile. “Poor man.”

  I couldn’t help a chuckle. Maybe David was right.

  While we waited, I walked over to the bar. There was a bottle of Connemara whiskey back there. Green and sparkling under the light, it called to me. My father had once told me that Connemara was the best whiskey a man could get drunk on. That it was distilled in Ireland and in the old-fashioned way.

  Suddenly, I was dying for a taste of it.

  “Hey, man, what a surprise.” Nick’s voice carried a smile to me. I looked over my shoulder and caught sight of his beaming blue eyes looking right at me. His stunning face snatched the air out of my throat. “Two for one,” he said, clapping his hands. “All right. All right. Cool.” He laughed and looked over at the bartender, who’d followed him out. “If you don’t mind…” Clad in his old blue jeans and a white almost see-through T-shirt, Nick nonchalantly walked over to the bar, where I stood speechless. He winked at me and then went around to the booze. I knew he’d grab the Connemara. I knew it. “Guys, follow me.”

  “Nick, you can’t take that bottle and—”

  “Lloyd, Lloyd, my man.” Nick strutted back to the barman and squeezed his beefy shoulder. “It’s no problem. Helen will take it out of my pay. It’s all good.” He smiled, looking into Lloyd’s flushed red face. “These are my friends. And it’s a special day, right?”