A Purple Winter Read online

  “Do you, uh, want dessert?” He was distracted. I noticed his jaw was tense.

  “Are you…okay?”

  He ran a hand down his shirt and his eyes strayed to the back of the room. “That fucking prick.”

  I wanted to ask who, but instead, watched his beautiful face, fascinated by the look in his eye. He was beautiful when he was angry.

  “Oh, man, I quit. Yeah…I’m done with this place.” Nick looked down at me. “Wait outside, by the door.”

  “Yo—you’re q—quitting right now?” A thrill ran through me.

  He picked up my empty plate and beer bottle. “Wait outside, O’Reilly.”

  “What a—about my b—bill?”

  “Fuck that.” Nick walked away.

  It was pointless to try to stop him. So I stood, threw my old coat on, and walked out of the dining room, then the restaurant. Outside, the night was colder and the rain had turned to fluffy snowflakes that hung in the old-fashioned street lamps. It was magical. I felt warm and peaceful.

  Until Nick bolted out of the restaurant. “Let’s go!” He grabbed my arm and we ran until we stopped by his car on the street. “Get in. Get in.”

  I did. I sat and calmly strapped my seat belt on.

  Nick turned the key in the ignition and the engine roared. With a screech of tires, he drove out into the street, racing down to the river front, turning left on Commune Street. He checked his rear-view mirror. “Oh, shit. Wow.” He laughed. “That felt good. He deserved that.”

  I stared at him, at his beaming eyes and excited expression, and decided I liked him best this way. Wild and reckless. I was sure he’d done something back there, in the kitchen, that was wrong or even dangerous, but somehow, I didn’t care.

  After a few minutes, Nick slowed down and we drove up some busy street, heading for downtown, I believed.

  “Sorry you didn’t get dessert,” Nick said, unfastening the first button of his shirt. “God, I can’t breathe in this fucking thing.”

  I shifted my weight in my seat, hoping to conceal my physical reaction. I fantasized about seeing Nick out of that white shirt. If only he’d let me, I’d spend hours discovering every inch of his golden skin.

  “I’m gonna get another job.” He shot me quick glance. “At Fleur de Sel. The chef there, Chef Helen, well, she’s willing to try me out in the kitchen. You know, as garde-manger.” He sniffed. “Well, it’s just soups and salads, mostly, but I’ll work my way up.”

  I was certain of that. “You o—owe me a dessert,” I said, smiling at him.

  Nick kept his eyes on the road, but there was something in his face that told me he wanted to look at me. “Okay,” he said, after a long pause. “I’ll make you something at my house.” Then his eyes met mine. “How’s that sound?”

  I gave him a thumb’s up.

  * * * *

  “Let’s be quiet.” Nick was careful opening his front door. I hoped he couldn’t hear my heart pounding. “My folks are out for the evening.” He entered and pushed at some boots that were blocking our way. The Lunds’ entrance was crammed with things. There were coats of every size hanging on hooks, and boots and snowshoes were piled up in the corner. Some skis, too.

  “Oh, hi,” a girl said at the end of the hall. She came walking up to us. She wore a large red sweater over Lycra pants and her strawberry blond hair was big as a football. She was probably younger than I was, but I couldn’t tell because of all the make-up she had on. “You’re early.” She tilted her head a little and leaned back on the wall near us, twirling a curl of hair in her skinny fingers. “Nick…right?”

  “In the flesh.” Nick smiled a devilish smile. “You’re the new babysitter.”

  “That’s me.” She laughed, her eyes sparkling in the dim hall light. “How come you’re not at school no more?” She blew a gum bubble and when it popped, laughed again. “Me and my friends were wondering. Kind of missed seeing you around and all.”

  I bet.

  I was standing right next to Nick, but I might as well have been invisible. I slipped my coat off and hung it on the wall by the door.

  “Hi, Derek,” she said, shocking me. “Nice shirt.”

  I glanced down at myself. She knew my name?

  “We’re in family economy class together. I’m Daphne, remember?”

  I vaguely remembered her. All the girls dressed and acted the same—it was difficult for me to tell them apart. Or maybe it was because I spent all my family economy classes daydreaming and doodling purple hearts in my book.

  “Here.” Nick dug into his pocket and started flipping through loose bills. There was a ton of money there. Nick was rich. “Will twenty do?”

  Daphne gave me a wide-eyed look and then nodded quickly, taking the bill from Nick. She hurried away to the entrance and threw her coat on. “Thanks! They’re both asleep. Boone broke the blender when he made a smoothie with whole nectarines.”

  Nick sighed. “Jesus. That kid.”

  “Bye, guys!” Daphne waved excitedly. “See you at school, Derek.”

  After she’d left, Nick stared at the door for a second. “Who was that girl?”

  I couldn’t have cared less. Though I suspected Nick thought she was cute. He had quite a reputation at school. Some said he’d slept with every girl in the eleventh grade. Maybe. Maybe not. I didn’t really mind. Anyway, the more girls he slept with, the less of a chance there was that he’d be falling in love with any of them.

  “All right, lemme get out of this damn shirt.” Nick opened the basement door. Both his and Boone’s bedrooms were down there, except their basement was finished. With real flooring and a carpet, too. They even had a color TV and some couches. “I’ll be right back. You can wait for me in the kitchen.”

  I nodded and bit my lip, my dirty mind showing me images of Nick stripping his clothes off down there.

  Nick smiled and shook his head, then disappeared. I heard his steps on the stairs.

  Alone, I looked around the Lund home, though I knew it all by heart. I’d been here so many times before, and yet, tonight, everything seemed different somehow. I wasn’t here to babysit Lene or to help Johan with taking something apart, I was here because Nick had invited me over. And he was acting sort of strange with me. I remembered what Aunt Fran had said.

  But that couldn’t be true? Did Nick like me in that way? He sure was staring at me a lot.

  “O’Reilly.” His deep voice gave me a start. “You’re still standing there.” Nick had changed into his blue jeans and a long sleeved blue sweater. His hair was loose, almost reaching his shoulders, but he was already pulling it back. He tied it up real quick and tucked a strand behind his ear. “Let’s go see what I can come up with.” He walked away to the kitchen.

  I couldn’t stop myself from staring at his butt the whole way there. His thighs were long and slender, but his butt was round like two melon halves. I swallowed dryly, my face feeling hot again.

  In the kitchen, Nick had his head in the fridge. “Let’s see. Not much to improvise with.”

  I stood by the large dark-wood dining table by the patio door. The Lund apartment was so much nicer than ours. They had good furniture and it always smelled vaguely of fresh lemon juice. I caught my reflection in the wet glass. Was that really me? My hair was like copper shining under the light. It wasn’t so bad. Kind of unique, I supposed.

  Did Nick like it? He was often gazing at my hair as though he couldn’t believe his eyes or something.

  “Okay…so.” He held a square of butter, some eggs, and apples under his arms. “There’s not much here to work with, but how ‘bout a Norwegian apple cake?”

  I was too turned on and excited to answer. Yes. Sweets and Nick. Heaven.

  “Is that a yes?” He laughed and stepped up to the counter, setting the ingredients down. He peeked into the blender. “Man, what’s up with Boone lately?” He slid a huge knife out of the knife block and started peeling the apples. Nick was using that huge knife to peel apples? I would have been miss
ing a finger before even finishing one side. “Bunny boy’s been real depressed these past days. I’m worried about him.” Nick was rolling the tip of the blade against the apple, stripping the peel off in one long stretch that looked like a spiral. I’d never seen anyone do that before. “He’s acting like he lost his best friend or something. You noticed?”

  I didn’t know Boone too well. He was always off on some adventure or at the hospital. I took a few steps forward. “Can—can I help with anything?”

  “No, I got it, thanks.” Nick had peeled the three apples and was now slicing them faster than a machine. Obviously, he’d been practicing. A lot. “Turn the oven on at three-fifty.”

  For the next few minutes, I watched him, mesmerized, as he put this cake together at the speed of light. It was in the oven within ten minutes.

  Nick cleaned everything up and washed his hands. He was so thorough and methodical in the kitchen. He hadn’t wasted a thing. “Now we wait.”

  “It smells go—ood.” I gazed around the kitchen.

  “Yeah, it does.”

  “You’re, um, ex—excellent in—in the kitchen.”

  “Thanks.” He smiled a little shyly. “I think I might have that talent.”

  We were quiet, the sound of a clock ticking somewhere, the only noise in the house.

  “Let’s listen to some music,” Nick said, walking past me. “And I’ll roll a joint.”

  In the living room, we sat on the couch, side by side, but I made sure our thighs weren’t touching because I was already feeling his body heat. He pulled out some rolling paper and a tiny plastic bag with what appeared to be weed in it. Nick started dropping the crushed green leaves into the paper, his long fingers moving fast and efficiently. Everything he did seemed easy, and yet, I bet if I tried to roll this thing, it would end up looking like a small cannelloni. “Check out the records there. See what you like. Keep the volume on low. But don’t worry, my folks and siblings sleep like the dead. I’m the only insomniac in this family.” He finished rolling the joint and ran the tip of his tongue along its side. “I’m gonna smoke this outside.”

  I looked at him and frowned. I’d thought I was going to smoke with him.

  Nick gave me a stern look and stood. “You have asthma. Put on a record.” He left the room and I heard the patio door slide open.

  There were some amazing records by the new speaker system. I chose Elvis’s Greatest Hits. It was my dad’s favorite album. He was always listening to it when he was home. Dad…why did it feel like I hadn’t seen him in over twenty years? He’d been home only two months ago.

  Heartbreak Hotel came on and I looked around the room, everything squeezing together in my mind. Nostalgia? Remembering pain. That was the meaning of the word. It was Greek. I learned that once. But when?

  “Oh, good choice.” Less than a minute later, Nick walked back in. He plopped down on the couch and leaned his head back on the seat, closing his eyes. “The pot helps me sleep.”

  I could watch him now. Take all of him in. What was behind that stunning face? What kind of dreams were locked away in his heart? What were his secrets? I wanted to know them all and make them my own. My hungry eyes traced the contour of his pecs inside his sweater and then my gaze fell on his thighs. I longed to push my face between them and make him moan my name.

  Derek.

  Somehow I knew Nick had opened his eyes and was watching me watching him. Caught, I slowly looked up and saw that his usual cool blue eyes were full of heat. I wanted to look away, but Nick had me locked into his fiery blue stare. Then he leaned in on his elbows and I knew he’d kiss me.

  But he looked out of the window. “What the—” He jumped to his feet. He was out the front door before I could ask who or what.

  I hesitated and went to check the living room window. I could see the front porch. And David standing there. David in his long black coat.

  They walked right past me, with David following Nick, both hurrying down the hall. “O’Reilly,” Nick said, “please, get some ice.”

  Obeying, I rushed to the freezer, and dumped some ice cubes into a wet rag and went looking for them. They were in the washroom with the door closed. I knocked.

  Nick cracked the door open a sliver and took the ice. “Thanks.” He shut the door. So that was it? I was expected to stand here behind the door and what? But Nick opened the door again and stood in it, blocking my view of David.

  “What ha—appened to him?”

  “God, I need a fucking drink, Nick.” David bumped into Nick in the door, but at the sight of me, paused, and then eyed me. He had a bruise on his cheek. He looked at Nick and rolled his eyes. “You couldn’t help yourself, now could you? Had to get a little taste of Mr. Cherry Pie.”

  Nick shifted his weight from foot to foot, but kept his mouth shut.

  David’s dark eyes met mine. “Well, well, clearly I underestimated you.” I wasn’t sure what he meant. He had a pink mark on his pretty face that was beginning to swell. He shoved the ice at Nick and walked off. “Aquavit is what I need.”

  Nick and I stood face to face by the bathroom door. He glanced down at the wet rag in his hand. “His dad…do you understand?”

  But the Pinets were such outstanding people. David and Sebastian’s dad was wealthy and they always had the best of everything.

  “I gotta take care of him.” Nick blew out a breath.

  “Do you—ou want me t—to go home?”

  “No…” Nick gave me a longing look. “But it’s better if you do,” he said, his eyes searching mine. “Okay?”

  When I walked past the living room, David was sitting by the window with a drink in his hand. I hesitated, slowing down. David was staring into his glass. “Go home, little boy.” He downed his drink. “It’s way past your bedtime.”

  “Hey, wait,” Nick said in a nervous voice, and I turned around to see him walking up to me with the cake. He had oven mitts on. “Take it home. For your mom or something.”

  David laughed. I couldn’t decide if it was malicious or desperate.

  Nick shot him a quick look and set the cake on the hall table, slipped the mitts off, and handed them to me. I put them on and picked up the cake. “Thanks…”

  “Yeah, no problem.”

  “Apple pie.” David laughed again. “How appropriate.”

  I stared at Nick, holding his eyes with mine, then slowly turned around.

  “Let me get the door.” Nick stood behind me, and though his chest wasn’t touching my back, I could feel him—like one feels a storm coming. He opened the door, reaching around my waist, and I stepped out into the cold night. “Your coat.” I turned and he draped the coat over my shoulders. His breath steamed the air between us. His eyes were lit with emotion. “Sorry about, uh—”

  “It’s okay.” I caught David watching us from the window. He had heartbreak written all over his face. Just like the song we’d been listening to.

  “I’ll see you around, O’Reilly.”

  No, don’t let him say that. Do something. What are you waiting for?

  I held my breath. Stared down at the cake.

  Say something. He feels the same way. Tell him. Tell him now.

  I raised my eyes, my mouth popping open and words flying out. “Nick…I—I like you. B—but not in a—a friend way.”

  Had I just said that out loud? That was insane. I’d sealed my doom.

  Nick was looking at me with his mouth ajar. Clearly, he hadn’t expected that. He quickly glanced over at the window, then retreated into the doorway. “That’s fucking amazing,” he whispered, leaning the side of his head against the doorway and looking me up and down. “‘Cause you’re, like, the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life. How come I never noticed you before?” He put his hands together as if in prayer and raised his eyebrows. “But I gotta go back inside. Okay? See, David…he doesn’t have it easy. He needs me right now.” Nick stepped back into the apartment. “Don’t worry…I’ll see you soon. I’ll come to you.”
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  Holding on to those words, I carried his cake home, elated and afraid all at once.

  Chapter 5

  Baby…it’s me.

  It’s Nick.

  They tell me that you could wake up. That you probably can hear me.

  Derek? Can you? Can you feel my hand on your hair?

  Oh, God, I’ve never hurt like this before. Every minute feels longer than the last.

  You’re leaving me…Slipping into your dream world, I know it. Don’t you think I know it? That world was always out of my reach, beyond the realm of my own dreams. We were Red and Blue. We mixed everything together, remember? We made a purple feast out of our lives and what was mine was yours, and what was yours has always been mine. I married you on a beach in Greece. I watched you walk to me, barefoot in the sand, your eyes greener than a leaf in the sun after the rain, your red hair catching the last dark gold rays of light. I watched you walk to me, and counted each of your steps, knowing that while other men slept or worked or cried over a sick child somewhere, I was standing in paradise, blessed, blessed, blessed.

  We made love on that big white bed in a tiny house in the village you’d picked out on the map with your finger, that finger that won’t move now. We made love, and when the rain blew in, you laughed and pushed the sheets off us and said let’s go sit out in the rain. After you fell asleep, I listened to you breathe and cried hot stupid tears of fear and pain and joy. It was too good. It would end. No one could love like this and not lose. I’d clung to you so desperately then, that you opened your eyes. Don’t, Nick, you said, it’s okay. Don’t cry. We’ll be happy. Nothing will touch us. We worked hard for this. Don’t be afraid. Don’t. And I’d pretended to believe you. It was our honeymoon.

  Derek. Open your eyes.

  I have to tell you something.

  I have to tell you there was never anyone else in my soul, but you, my lover of a thousand years. I know you always wondered about David. Always thought maybe I’d loved him more because I’d lost him. No, Derek, no. I never meant any of the angry words I’d throw at you when you told me the truth so easily. I couldn’t face it. The stupid arguments. The stubborn silences. I was born frustrated. Frustrated with the little time we’re given to sail around the great big ocean of our lives. I didn’t know how to slow down. Didn’t know how to enjoy the little things. I know you chased me while I chased myself and I’m so ashamed, baby. So ashamed of all the hurt that I caused you through the years. Open your eyes. Give me your hand. Talk to me.