“Remember when I called them earlier to tell them I’d arrived safely? They reminded me that I had promised not tohave sex tonight.”
“I promised again,” Adam said. “I was lying. You’re not the only one who brought condoms!”
“You talked with your parents about sex?” Matt asked. He didn’t even try to hide his incredulity.
“A lot of things are different after you attempt suicide,” Adam said. “Think about it. The last time my parents watched me get in my car and drive towards Oklahoma City, I was on my way to college. The next time they saw me, I was in a hospital bed.”
He paused and wiped his eyes. “Do you know that my mom sneaks into my room at night to check if I’m still breathing? She doesn’t know that I know it. I pretend to be asleep.”
Matt’s thoughts turned dark. This was Colton’s fault, and he would pay dearly for his sins—and not on some mythical Judgment Day. Colton was going down on March 22nd. Dean Smith would go soon thereafter. And then MCU would have to reinstate Adam.
Adam continued. “My counselor had to work hard to persuade mom and dad to let me come here tonight. The no sex bit was his idea. Even then, dad wasn’t exactly jazzed about my having a ‘gay’ date.”
Matt’s balls were already starting to ache.
Adam sat up. “Didn’t I see a Christmas present earlier? Behind you? Is it for me?”
Matt reached back and fumbled for the present, handed it to Adam.
Adam tore into it with gusto.
Bits of ribbon and paper fluttered to the floor like confetti.
Adam examined the sweater Matt had bought him. It was Pashmina wool (whatever that was). It was a copper color, flecked with green.
“I think it will compliment your freckles and eyes,” Matt said. Ava had helped him pick it out. Beard girlfriends were good for things like that.
“I love it!” Adam exclaimed. He slipped it on. “How do I look?”
Matt shot him a wicked grin. “I prefer you bare chested. But, if you must wear clothes, the sweater looks great!”
Adam removed the sweater, then leaned in and kissed Matt. “Thank you! I have a present for you, too!”
He jumped up, went to his little travel suitcase, and removed a small, flat package.
“It isn’t much,” Adam said. “Just something I drew.”
Matt tore away the wrapping paper. Underneath was a framed pencil drawing of a horse, viewed from the side, rearing on its hind legs, its tail and mane flared. What distinguished the drawing, besides its quality, was that Adam hadsubtlety shaded in a line that travelled up the horse’s hind foreleg, continuing in a small “v” across the bow of its spine and up its neck, and then down its front foreleg. The line revealed a wide, tilted “M” shape. Across the bottom, in his distinctive looped penmanship, Adam had written “M is for Mustang and Matt.”
Matt traced the “M” with his finger, beaming with joy. He could not remember a more memorable Christmas present.
The little clock on the nightstand flashed 1:33 a.m.
Adam stifled a yawn.
They cleared the bed, brushed their teeth, then spooned. Spooned and whispered and giggled until Adam nodded off.
Matt had a hard time falling asleep. His balls ached. But his heart was full.
Chapter 34: Burying the Hatchet
Saturday, January 13, 1996
You really won’t tell me who it is?” Debbie asked.
Matt shook his head. He questioned whether this was the best way for Nicholas to effect a reconciliation with his ex-wife, had said as much to Nicholas, but this was how the guy wanted to do it. And, maybe as the mastermind behind the media campaign that had forced MCU to rehire Debbie, Nicholas deserved some consideration. Had it not been for him, Debbie would still be unemployed, would still be driving an 11-year-old Chevette with bald tires.
One could also argue that if Nicholas hadn’t married and divorced her, Debbie wouldn’t have been fired in the first place. She would have had a different life entirely.
