"Hello?" he asked, completely unsure what to expect.
"Is this the axe murderer?" asked a voice with a Chicago accent. "You better, by God, be a safe driver and be on the up and up or Brent and I will be out there, and we will hang you high, son, we will hang you high."
Then Clayton heard a muffled sound and a sharphey, what the hell?as if someone had grabbed the phone from Richard's hand. And sure enough, the next voice, a deeper one than the first but still with a Chicago accent, came on the line.
"This is Brent and you'll have to excuse Richard, but he's seen too many westerns and, except for that ski trip we took last year, has never set foot in Colorado, let alone been west of the Mississippi."
"I'm on the up and up," said Clayton as sincerely as he could.
"You better be," said Brent, almost growling. "I know a guy in the FBI, and he owes me a favor, and as you know, the FBI always gets their man."
Clayton nodded and laughed a little because Brent and Richard sounded like one of those high-powered gay couples that Hollywood liked to present as the way all gay couples were. And indeed, their words had been a little dramatic and over the top, but beneath the fast talking was a layer of deep affection for Kyle and his welfare. These two might be far away, but there was a network of love and caring stretching all the way across flyover country.
"I promise you, he's in safe hands," said Clayton. "We're going to my sister's house when the roads are clear. My phone is broken, but Kyle will have his and you can reach him whenever you want to make sure he's safe."
"What happened to your phone, dear boy?" asked Brent, his tone changing as fast as his focus on the new topic.
"It fell out of my pocket when Kyle was helping me out of my car," said Clayton. "I'd been driving a while, and kind of—well, the screen shattered and it's all dark now."
"Kyle told us about your errand of mercy," said Brent. "And the Christmas knife."
"Kyle is going to wrap it for me," said Clayton. "Which is nice of him, but then he's a nice guy, which I'm sure you know."
Clayton was looking directly at Kyle and almost swallowed his tongue when Brent said, "I'm sure that's not all he's going to wrap for you." This was followed by a throaty laugh and more shuffling of the phone back to Richard.
"Never mind him, dear," said Richard, in a voice that was much warmer than before. "You sound like a good guy, and you kids should take it at your own pace. No sense rushing it when you've got forever."
Nobody had forever, but he and Kyle had a beginning to share with each other. They would take it at their own pace and ignore any naysayers who might balk at how he and Kyle had met. This would betheirfuture, and it would be up to him and Kyle together to determine how it would go.
"I won't let anyone rush us," said Clayton as sincerely as he could. "I promise."
There were more sounds of scuffling from the other end, and Clayton gestured to the phone so that Kyle would know how confusing it all was. Kyle took the phone from Clayton and rescued him from having to figure it out.
"You guys are the best," said Kyle into the phone, his chin dipping. "But Clayton and I are watching a movie and we need to go now. Bye!"
Then, with a press of his thumb, Kyle hung up on Brent and Richard, surprising Clayton a little with the suddenness.
"They could go on and on all night," said Kyle. "And from the sounds of it, they were starting to wrestle with each other, which is a signal to me that the conversation is about to be over, anyway."
Kyle smiled broadly and put the phone on the kitchen table.
"Now, where were we?" he asked, coming forward to placeboth hands on Clayton's chest. The warmth of those hands seared into him in the most pleasant of ways. "On the couch, cuddling, half watching the movie, half not?"
"Yes," said Clayton, swallowing thickly. "I believe you are right. But we forgot to call my sister and make sure." He didn't want there to be any sense of uncertainty for Kyle that he was welcomed. "Can I use your phone?"
Kyle handed the phone back to Clayton, and he dialed Sarah's number, eager to tell her the news, to hear her voice, to ask his question. When she came on the line, he nodded at Kyle and gave him the thumbs up. Kyle slid into the curve of Clayton's arm like he'd always been there, and always would be.
"I hear the roads will start being plowed tomorrow," said Sarah, her voice soft and unhurried, which meant she was as relaxed as she could possibly be. "Will you make it tomorrow or the next day?"
"Tomorrow for sure," said Clayton. "It was so warm today, but listen, hey. I've got a favor to ask."
"Ask away," said Sarah. "What is it?"
"I've got a friend here, Kyle, and I would like to bring him home for Christmas. May I?"
Home for Christmas. The phrase echoed in his head in a pleasurable way as Kyle pressed close, a warm, comforting presence while he waited for his answer. He didn't have to wait long.
"Of course, ofcourseyou can bring Kyle," said Sarah. "You don't even need to ask. Sheriff Bob has already assured me he's not an axe murderer, and if he's the one that brought Shawn's present back to you intact?—"
