“Eight’s fine with me. Bye, George.” If Geena was miffed by their sudden departure, she didn’t show it. His rudeness was eating at George, sinking its claws into his sense of propriety. His mother’s voice admonished him about being such a prick. But he had no choice. If he wanted to protect Andi, other things had to give. Politeness was overrated anyway.
Only when he had his partner safe in the car did George finally breathe more easily.
9. What to do?
IN THEcar, Andi put his head against the headrest and closed his eyes. George’s stress was adding to his own, making it hard to keep the images coming from the arthropods at bay. He needed peace and quiet so badly. George started the engine, not saying anything. It wasn’t necessary. Andi bathed in the tranquility of their closeness, of George’s unspoken understanding. His partner stopped at the small supermarket on the way to Andi’s house on James Island. “Do you need anything specific?”
Andi shook his head. “No, I’m good.”
“Do you still have rice? I’m thinking about making that vegetable rice you like so much.”
It didn’t surprise Andi that George would stay. He did most of the time these days. Dangerous. And oh so wonderful.
“The one with the dried tomatoes and the feta cheese? I could eat that. And I think there’s still rice in the pantry.”
“Okay. I’ll hurry.”
“It’s fine. You know I like the car.”
“Doesn’t mean you have to stay here longer than necessary. Plus, it was a strenuous day.”
Andi patted his pockets for his cell. “I can entertain myself until you’re back.”
George threw him one last worried glance, then hurried toward the entrance. Andi knew he would come back with not only vegetables and feta cheese but also with a fresh package of rice, because Andi’s ability to keep track of the contents of his pantry was abysmal. Food just wasn’t important enough. Not to him anyway. He was also quite sure that anybody who had spent time sensing myriads of maggots gnawing away at a rotting corpse would go on a voluntary fast. George’s cooking was great, though, and he wouldn’t deny himself, even if it was more out of necessity than an actual desire to eat.
As predicted, George was back twenty minutes later with two huge bags containing a lot more than just the ingredients for tonight’s meal.
At home, George went to the kitchen, suggesting none too subtly Andi should take a shower. “I’ll do the same as soon as I have the veggies in the oven.”
Andi went without protest. He was too exhausted to argue. The hot shower did nothing to revive him, and turning the water cold just wasn’t appealing. When he toweled himself dry, he could hear George in the guest bathroom. The heavenly smell of vegetables with lots of garlic roasting in the oven promised a feast he wasn’t sure he would be able to stomach. The more intense hisgeschenkbecame, the harder it was to eat. Andi’s theory was that his body was so overtaxed with the sensory input, it shut down the less important functions. He slipped into his sweatpants, a T-shirt he had gotten from George, a sweater of undefined age that once had been green, he was almost sure about it, and his thick woolen socks. Then he padded down to the kitchen to sit on one of the kitchen stools where he could keep an eye on the veggies. The smell was thick and heavy here, the arthropods excited because of George, but not agitated. It was nice. Bearable. All he could wish for these days.
George came out of the shower a short time later, wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt as well, though he looked more like a model from the cover of a magazine. Andi wasn’t blind. George Donovan was a good-looking man by anyone’s standards. In Andi’s humble opinion, he looked even better when he worked in the kitchen, humming softly while cutting the feta cheese and boiling the rice. Andi could watch him like this forever; everything was peaceful, warm, content, the way a house should be.
The buzzing of his cellphone was an unwelcome intrusion into his serene fantasy. He got up to take a look at the screen where the phone was charging next to the fridge. An unknown number. Andi hesitated. Taking the call meant leaving the peace and acknowledging the world outside. Not taking it meant he would wonder for hours who it had been. Sighing, he swiped the green button.
“Hayes.”
“Detective Hayes. This is Aloys Norris speaking, Tyler’s father. Do you have a moment?”
Andi was so surprised he held the phone away from his ear. George had stopped whatever he was doing at the counter, looking at him with raised brows.
“Uhm, I do have a moment. Is it okay if I put you on speaker? Detective Donovan is with me at the moment.”
“Please do that. I want to thank you both for finding Tyler.”
Andi put the call on speaker, mouthing “Tyler’s father” to George.
“Hello, Mr. Norris. This is George Donovan. It’s nice talking to you.”
“Hello, Mr. Donovan. It’s my pleasure talking to you. I wanted to thank you both for rescuing Tyler from that bunker. I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t found him. Thank you very much. And please forgive that I’m calling only now. The past two days were hectic.”
“It’s fine, Mr. Norris. We’re glad we were able to help.” George put two plates on the breakfast counter.
“Yes. I, uh… I know my wife is not the best at expressing her gratitude.”
“We’re used to it, Mr. Norris. Don’t worry.” George’s tone was jovial, while his face expressed his curiosity. Andi could sense it, too, in the tension of Mr. Norris’s voice. He was working up to something.
“I was wondering….”
