EPILOGUE
Patrick
Patrick couldn’t believeit had only been a couple of days since Dion had been arrested and he’d spent the night in hospital. He hardly remembered much about the trip in the ambulance, just the way Simon had held his hand the whole way there. The mild concussion, combined with the shock of the experience, left his memories clouded with confusion. But one thing that did stand out was Simon’s calm handling of the situation. From the moment Simon had first appeared in the doorway, Patrick had known everything was going to be all right.
Everyone had tiptoed around him since then, including Simon, who’d been extra attentive, but Patrick had insisted plans weren’t put on hold. There was no way he was going to let the situation impact his friends or housemates any more than it already had.
“Can I get you anything? A drink maybe?” Patrick looked up into Simon’s concerned eyes.
“No. What you can do is sit down and relax.” Patrick pulled him by the hand, happy when Simon sat next to him on the couch. He didn’t let go of Simon’s hand.
Simon leaned in and whispered, “Sorry, babe. I know you don’t want me to fuss, but I can’t help it.”
Patrick chuckled. “I know. It’s in your nature and you’re always going to be worried about me.”
“True.” Simon squeezed his hand. “And you’ll look after me.”
“You’d better believe it.” The kiss was soft and sweet. Their lips parted, but they stayed close, Patrick dropping his head on to Simon’s shoulder.
“Do you think they’ll be here soon?” Patrick asked.
Simon glanced at his watch. “I hope so. It’s a two-hour drive, and Megan said she’d get away in plenty of time.”
“And you still don’t know if your mom will come?”
He could feel the movement of Simon’s chest as he inhaled and stilled. “Megs was hopeful, but no promises.”
Music and laughter floated from the kitchen where Lisa was directing Bruce and Mike in the fine art of cooking a turkey. The fragrance of roasting meat wafted from the kitchen, the aroma something that would ordinarily have his mouth watering, but today brought back the hour spent with Dion in Andrew’s kitchen. He shook his head to clear the thought, to forget the roast chicken dinner he’d never gotten to serve up to Simon. Today was aboutcelebrating, not dwelling on stuff he couldn’t change.
“I should probably get up and see if they need some help in the kitchen,” Simon said, but Patrick wouldn’t let him leave.
“We’ve done our bit, and they sound like they’re having fun in the kitchen. I think they’ll cope without us.” The two of them had spent the morning tidying the house while the others prepared the meal. Plus, he and Simon had set the table in the hardly ever used dining room. They’d had to shuffle furniture about a bit to make room for a temporary additional table so they’d all fit. “Who’d have thought we’d be putting on a Thanksgiving dinner for fourteen people?”
“Hopefullyfourteen.”
Patrick squeezed Simon’s hand. “She’ll come. And if she doesn’t, then it’s her loss.”
They sat in peace for a little while, Patrick leaning into Simon’s side and enjoying his closeness. He drew a soothing pattern on Simon’s arm, trying to help him relax, although Patrick knew Simon was on tenterhooks. He silently prayed Simon’s mother would show up.
They didn’t have long to wait. Simon stiffened at the sound of the doorbell. It could have been any of their other guests, but Patrick hoped it was Simon’s family so the poor guy could be put out of his misery. Simon’s shoulders drooped as he left the room. Patrick held his breath.
The look on Simon’s face as he walked back into the living room followed by his family was priceless. Patrick exhaled in relief. He could tell Simon was trying to play it cool, but the happiness radiating from his eyes was impossible to hide.
Patrick stood and Simon came to his side. “Patrick, I’d like you to meet my family. This is my mom, Maureen Dawson, and my sister, Megan.” Simon bent and picked up the little girl with the huge hazel eyes just like his own. “And this little monkey is Samantha.” Sammy was all smiles, dimples flashing as she gazed at her uncle. She ducked her face into the side of his neck, and Simon hugged her tighter.
Simon’s mom stepped forward. “It’s lovely to meet you, Patrick.”
“You too, Mrs. Dawson.” They shook hands, perhaps slightly formally, but at least Mrs. Dawson was smiling. He turned to Megan. “And it’s great to meet you finally, Megan. I’ve heard so much about you.”
Patrick held out his hand, but she stepped closer and pulled him into a hug instead. “I’ve heard a lot about you, too, Patrick. It’s wonderful to meet the guy my brother has fallen for.”
“Ah, thank you.” He was sure he was blushing.
She drew back and he glanced at Simon, who winked, sending more heat to Patrick’s cheeks. He focused on Megan again. She shared the same family resemblance as Simon and Sammy, with her healthy glow and masses of dark curls. Her smile was warm, but concern clouded her eyes.
“I was so sorry to hear about what happened to you, but I’m glad you weren’t hurt too badly,” she said, and gave him another quick hug.
“Yes, dear,” Mrs. Dawson said, “it all sounded terribly frightening. I can’t believe you’re having a house full of people so soon. Are you sure you shouldn’t be resting? Is there anything I can do to help?” She raised her arm and indicated the basket she held. “I made a pie and some of the cookies I know Simon loves. I wasn’t sure what else to do.”
