CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

BRIAN

“Hey, Brian.”  Lindsay’s voice echoes from the answering machine, “It’s Linds.  I thought you and Justin were going to the house today, but I rang and there was no answer, so I thought I’d try….”

I push back my chair and cross to the phone and pick it up.  “Yeah, Linds, I’m here,” I say, flopping down on the couch.

“Oh!”  She sounds surprised.  “Oh, hi.  Hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“Just working.  I could do with a break, actually.”  I lean forward to grab my cigarettes and Zippo from the coffee table, and light up, holding the phone against my ear with my shoulder.

She laughs.  “I thought you were supposed to be on holiday?”

“I am,” I say bitterly, sitting back with the ashtray on my knee.  “Unfortunately no-one informed the latest strain of winter flu virus.  Half the staff has gone down with it.”

“It’s the same at Macey’s.  Everybody’s doing double-shifts.”  She pauses.  “Does this mean you’re cancelling Christmas?”

“Does it fuck.  Nope, I told Theodore come hell or high water I’m out of the door by lunchtime tomorrow, and then I’ll go join Justin.”

“Isn’t he with you?”

“No, he broke up a couple of days ago, and he wanted to get down to the studio … something he needs to work on urgently, apparently.”  I grin to myself.  I’m pretty sure it’s my Christmas present.  “Boot took him down in the truck.”

“But he didn’t answer the phone …”

“I spoke to him earlier and he said he was going to be working.  He’s probably forgotten what time it is.”  At least he’s got a distraction.  The night before last was the first night we hadn’t slept together since Justin came back to Pittsburgh, and I was totally unprepared for how bereft I felt.  I’d left half a dozen messages with variations on take your fucking cell with you, twat, that’s the whole reason for having one!, cursing myself each time for being a pathetic cock-whipped faggot.  He’d eventually rung me back abjectly apologetic at one thirty a.m., and I’d been nearly pissed enough to refuse the incredibly hot make-up phone sex he subsequently forced on me.  “So why did you want to talk to me, Linds?”

“Um … just to confirm that both Gus and I will be coming at Christmas … if the offer still stands.”

“Why wouldn’t it?”

She sounds a little nervous.  “I thought Justin …”

“Might have been pissed and persuaded me to withdraw our invitation?” I finish for her.

She gives a short, high laugh.  “Something like that.  I don’t think I was very … gracious the last time I saw him.”

“You got that right,” I tell her bluntly.  “Well, you don’t have to worry, you’re still on the guest list.”  I put down the ashtray and head for the drinks cart.  “Justin isn’t pissed, he’s worried.   He doesn’t want bad feeling between you any more than I do.  And in case you were wondering, he was as uncomfortable as you were … because he knew you’d be upset.”

“I wasn’t upset,” she protests.  “I was just a little surprised … I didn’t know Gus felt that way about Justin.”

“It was every bit as much of a revelation to him, believe me.”  I pour myself a shot of Beam and take it back to the couch. 

“And how do you feel about it?” she asks hesitantly.

“Personally, Lindsay, I’m delighted that Gus looks on Justin as a father.   If and when my past debauchery catches up with me and I croak, I’ll feel a lot better knowing Gus has someone he can trust in his life.”

There’s a long silence.  “Meaning he can’t trust me?”  She’s trying to sound like she’s joking but she’s not making it.

“No…” I squeeze my eyes shut.  Fuck.  I take a long swallow of Beam.  “No, I didn’t mean that … I meant a man he can trust.”

She sighs.  “Oh, Brian, I know what you meant.  I’m sorry, I just have this really bad migraine and I was sick this morning, too.  I hope I haven’t picked up the virus.”

“How’s Gus?” I ask quickly.

“Oh, he seems fine.  It’s his school Christmas Party tomorrow, so he was bouncing off the walls before I finally got him to bed.  I think that’s where the migraine may have come from.”

“Well, if you’re sick, take tomorrow off.  Everybody else in the fucking world is.”

“That might not be a bad idea.”  She sounds thoughtful.  “I could drop Gus off for his party and then go back to bed for a few hours … God knows, I could do with a rest.  Things have been insane at work this week.”

“There you go then.  And if you don’t feel up to taking Gus, ring me and I’ll arrange something.”

“Oh, I’m sure I can manage.  If not, I’ll let you know.”  She’s quiet for a moment, then says softly, “Thank you, Brian.”

“What for?”

“For being … kind,” she answers simply.  There’s another pause.  “Brian?”

“Yeah?”

“You know I only wanted what was best for you, don’t you Peter?”

I force myself to ignore the lost, wistful tone of her voice.  “I’m not Peter any more, Linds.  And you’re not Wendy.  We grew up.”

She makes a small sound that might be a laugh or might be a sob. 

“Justin’s not going away,” I tell her.  “Not for you, not even for Gus.  So if you want to still play a part in our family, you have to accept him.  There’s no other way, Linds.  You and Mikey, you’re my oldest friends … I’m never going to deny how much I owe both of you.  And I’m well aware that I interfered way too much in your lives because I was a selfish asshole, and I needed you both too much to really let you go.  But Justin … he’s the real deal, Linds.  I’ll tell you the same thing I told Mikey: don’t make me choose because, believe it or not, I do love you and I like having you in my life.”

“I know.”  Her voice is a whisper.  “And I love you too.  Just promise, whatever happens, you won’t forget that.”

“I promise,” I tell her.

TBC