Oliver (3:16 p.m.):The key was blueberries.
Oliver (3:16 p.m.):Lots and lots of blueberries.
Oliver (3:17 p.m.):I guess they have something against almond cookies?
Sam held in a laugh as he sat down on one of the stools at the island in Barry’s kitchen. Mid-afternoon sunlight streamed through the open windows, and a light breeze promising cooler autumn temperatures fluttered the curtains. It was pleasant. A nice reminder that fall was almost here. And fall had always been his favorite time of the year in Boston. But at the same time, that also meant...
His eyes flickered back up to the first text in the string, and his stomach clenched. Day sixteen. Over two weeks since he’d seen his boyfriend’s face. And as though Ollie knew what he was thinking, even from 2,500 miles away, a picture popped up on the screen. Sam’s heart skipped a beat. It was a selfie—Ollie with a huge, bright grin on his face as he held up a mostly empty carton of blueberries. About half a dozen ducks gathered on the grass behind him. Another text followed.
Oliver (3:19 p.m.):They promised not to chase me if I fill them up with berries. They seem sincere enough.
Oliver (3:20 p.m.):Heading back to the lab now. Miss you. Talk to you tonight. <3
Sam closed his eyes and let out a short breath. Then he quickly typed out a response, hoping to catch Ollie before he silenced his phone.
Sam (3:22 p.m.):Careful trusting them. They’re sneaky little birds. They’ll make you think you’re safe, and then, when you least expect it...! :P
Sam (3:23 p.m.):I love that picture.
Sam (3:23 p.m.):I love seeing you smile.
Sam (3:24 p.m.):Can’t wait to hear your voice tonight. I love you. (a whole lot)
He sat, staring at his phone, waiting, willing another message to pop up. But after a couple of minutes, when no messages came, he figured he must have been just a little too late. Ollie must already be back in the lab, getting back to work.
“What’s up, kiddo? Everything okay?”
His uncle’s hand set gently on his shoulder, and Sam nodded before switching off his phone’s screen and then turning to look up at Barry.
“Yeah. Just... just getting a little homesick, I guess,” Sam said, trying for a half-smile.
“A little?” Barry’s eyes twinkled with amusement, and with some effort, Barry sat down on the stool next to Sam, his expression tightening briefly. Sam reached out to help steady him, but Barry waved him off. “How’s everything going back home? Did the rain finally let up?”
“It must have,” Sam said, shifting slightly in his seat. “It’s sunny enough today that Ollie went to have lunch at the park. He... sent me a photo.”
“Ahh.” Barry grinned and then reached over to pat Sam’s thigh. “So that’s why you’ve got that look in your eye.”
“Look? What look? I-I don’t have a look.” Sam shook his head and shoved his phone into his pocket. His uncle still grinned teasingly at him. But Sam shook his head again. “I don’t. I just miss him. That’s... that’s all.”
“If you insist,” Barry said, his eyes showing his amusement.
“I mean, I . . . It’s really nice to see him. I haven’t . . .”
“All those hours you two spend on the phone every night, and you’ve never thought to video chat?” Barry winked, and Sam groaned.
“No, no, we don’t... I mean, that’s just not something we’ve... Ugh. Why am I even dignifying this with a response?”
Sam knew his uncle’s jesting was all in fun, and usually, he welcomed it. Usually, he appreciated the laughter and smiles. But today was a bit more difficult, his feelings a bit more raw, maybe because tomorrow was the two-year anniversary of their first date, and god, he just... really, really missed his boyfriend. He took a deep breath and tried for another smile, glad when it felt a little more genuine.
“He—Ollie, he just sent me a picture of himself at the park, where we sometimes meet for lunch. He was... feeding blueberries to the ducks. Apparently they like blueberries more than almond cookies.”
Barry patted him on the shoulder again and cleared his throat. This time, all the teasing was gone, and his tone was kind and understanding. “How’s he doing? He’s okay? I know you’ve been worried.”
Sam nodded. “Um, yeah, actually. He’s been—he’s been doing pretty well. He...um, yeah, yeah, pretty well, really.”
Sam stopped himself just before he said too much. Not for the first time, he’d almost forgotten that Barry wasn’t aware of everything Ollie had been through, and Sam couldn’t just talk openly about the fact that it was now less than a month until the two-year anniversary ofthat day. He couldn’t mention that Ollie was maybe doing a little better today than he had been last week because his therapist had finally returned from vacation, and Ollie had been able to meet with Dr. Solvang just two daysago. He couldn’t tell Barry about how Ollie had called him last Thursday at seven in the morning—Boston time—because he’d needed someone to talk to after a nightmare had woken him.
But as he held Barry’s gaze for a moment, he could see the soft understanding in his uncle’s eyes. Barry reached over and took Sam’s hand, giving it a squeeze.
