Breathe in, breathe out. The warm smell of almonds, roasted coffee, and vanilla should have relaxed him; by this time, he’d have consumed a few cannoli and an espresso, but his appetite, even for his favorite sweets, had deserted him, which proved how upset he truly was.
The funny thing about it was he liked Cheryl. Once she’d seen how Sam truly cared for Zach, she herself began the tentative steps of getting back out into the world, forming social relationships with the other volunteers at the senior center. With gentle encouragement, Sam had no doubt she’d soon have a rich life, one that didn’t revolve around Zach.
But Cheryl Cohen was not Barbara Stein. His mother had never given a damn about anyone but herself. One night he’d mentioned to Zach she lived in Florida, and that they were somewhat estranged. He laughed bitterly to himself. Yeah, right, estranged. More like she barely knew she even had a fucking son. Never in his wildest dreams did he think Zach would take it upon himself to not only call and speak to his mother, but fly her up to New York all expenses paid and arrange for them to talk.
“I asked you to call her so many times but you never did, so I figured I’d help.”
“Didn’t you think,” said Sam, trying hard to keep himself together so he wouldn’t end up in jail for killing his lover and trashing the bakery, “maybe there was a reason why I don’t speak to her?”
The concept of strife within families was foreign to Zach, who’d always known he was loved by his mother and father.
The sweet smile on Zach’s face faltered. “Well, I kind of thought—”
“No,” said Sam, shaking his head. “You didn’t think. Let me ask you a question. Did you introduce yourself as my boyfriend to her? Say you were my lover?”
“Um, I said I was a close friend.” He screwed his face up in thought. “She didn’t really ask me any questions.”
No surprise there. She probably stopped listening after she heard the magic words “all expense paid.”
“Are you trying to tell me something? Like, you’ve never told your mother you’re gay?” Behind his glasses, Zach’s blue eyes blinked at Sam in disbelief.
If he wasn’t so annoyed with Zach, he’d kiss him for looking so adorably bewildered.
Just then, the bell tinkled over the door, and Sam heard a familiar voice over his shoulder.
“See, I told you he’d be here. Sammy, where the hell have you been hiding yourself?”
Henry circled around the table to stand in front of Sam and Zach, his arm around his wife. Sunlight glinted on the spill of Heather’s long red hair over her shoulders, gilding the freckles dotting her cheeks. Her blue eyes lit up with curiosity.
“Sam Stein. You haven’t called us or visited in over a month, and now I see why.” Her bright gaze traveled from Sam to capture Zach’s. “Hi, I’m Heather, Henry’s wife.”
“Uh, hi, I’m Zach, Zach Cohen.”
Sam loved Heather and had been meaning to call and bring Zach and his best friends together, but time had slipped away; time that had been spent with Zach—making love, walking on the beach, or teaching him how to fly a kite. Sam hoped Zach wouldn’t retreat into the shell he’d only recently emerged from. He wanted his friends and his lover to get along.
Sam needn’t have worried, as Heather was the warmest person he’d ever met. Henry brought over two chairs, and within minutes, she had them all laughing at some crazy stories at her job as a dental hygienist.
“I told her: Babe, the only cavity you ever have to worry about filling is mine.” He winked at them. “And I return the favor on a nightly basis.”
“Oh God, Henry, you’re so bad.” Heather smacked him on his shoulder. “Now Zach is going to think we’re some kind of sex fiends.”
The natural banter between them restored Sam’s good humor. So what if Zach spoke to his mother? It didn’t mean she was hopping on a plane tonight. Considering it had been well over a year since he’d last seen her, the possibility of her being anxious to visit him seemed remote. He relaxed and took Zach’s hand in his lap, toying with his fingers. Zach threw him a smile.
Henry sat with his arm across the back of Heather’s chair, playing with a curling tendril of her hair. Mrs. Caruso bustled up and kissed them both on the cheek.
“Ah, my favorite couple. See? I brought you the cappuccino and the little fruit tarts you like. And for you, my beautiful girl, I have the tiramisu you love, all fresh.”
She set the plates in front of them and returned with forks and the coffees. Standing back from the table, she surveyed the four of them with a satisfied look in her eye.
“This is what I like to see, my two handsome boys and my gorgeous couple who one day if I live to see, will maybe bring me a baby.” Without waiting for an answer, she returned to sit behind the counter.
“She never stops, does she?” asked Henry, picking up his fork and digging into Heather’s tiramisu. “Here, babe.” He offered Heather the cake.
One thing Sam loved about his friend was that he never let people’s opinions matter. When Sam came out as gay, Henry didn’t blink and never treated him any differently. The moment Henry met Heather in college he fell for her, and when he introduced her to Sam for the first time, Sam understood why. Her beautiful face was only outshined by the sweetness of her heart; Henry didn’t care she wasn’t a size four; he loved every curve of her body. If Sam wasn’t gay, he’d want a woman like Heather.
“You don’t go to the lifestyle coach anymore, Sam?” She licked her fork clean of the custard.
Except for that.
