A Second Harvest (23 page)

He swallowed it all down. “I’ll still be up when you get back. Have a good time. Mom, let me help you out to the car.”

He opened the back door and took her elbow. She fell so easily these days. He helped her walk to the garage. And finally, finally he got them all into the car. He waved as Joe drove off.

As soon as they were gone, David went up to his bedroom and checked his phone. There was nothing new from Christie, and when he sent off a short query, there was no reply.

Christie was at a club called The Boiler Room, he’d texted earlier. The fact he was not replying now made David feel all kinds of anxious. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Christie; it was their situation he didn’t trust. He had no hold on Christie Landon.

He knew from the things Christie said that he’d “partied” often at The Boiler Room, that there was dancing, drinking, and frequently casual sex. Why wouldn’t Christie indulge since he was visiting with his old friends?

The idea of Christie having sex with a stranger in a bathroom, maybe right this very minute, was awful. It made him want to throw up. Christie deserved to be worshipped and loved, not casually used. But what upset David more was the idea Christie might meet someone nice, someone available and
out
, and not come back. Or he’d come home and look at David differently, no longer
care
.
There had to be a lot of guys in New York who were younger, handsome, and didn’t carry all of David’s baggage.

Ugh. He hated feeling so jealous and insecure.

He still hadn’t heard from Christie by the time the gang returned from church. So he was not in the best of moods as he went to help his mother out of the car. It was after one in the morning, and his mom and Aunt Gladys went straight to bed. Joe followed after giving David a worried look and a “good night.” He would definitely be bringing up the subject of church attendance later, David could tell.

He fixed himself another cup of herbal tea, and Amy lingered with him, so he made her one too. They sat at the counter and sipped the hot, minty liquid.

“Dad, what did you do to Mrs. Robeson?” she asked in a worried voice.

“Me? Not a thing.”

“At church tonight she was very… weird. I said hello to her after the service, and she about bit my head off. She started talking about sin and about men being led into wickedness—about evil liquor and the ways of the flesh. She was really worked up about something.”

David froze, his worst fears realized. Evelyn knew. And she hadn’t misread what she’d seen in the barn as friendship either.

“She has no call to be talking to you like that. If she has an issue, she should be talking to me.”

“But why was she mad? Did something happen between you two?”

“Nothing ever happened between me and Evelyn, though not for her lack of trying. I suspect she’s got some sour grapes. Now go on and get to bed, honey. Tomorrow is Christmas, and Joe will have us up early.”

“That’s not right of her to be vindictive just because you don’t like her romantically,” Amy grumbled. But she kissed his cheek, wished him a worried good night, and went to bed.

David stayed up, still waiting for a text from Christie. But the problem of Evelyn Robeson preyed on his mind. The “evil liquor” was obviously her late husband, Luther. But “ways of the flesh”? That was his sin, all right.

He wasn’t ashamed of what he was doing with Christie. But he was embarrassed about Evelyn in particular knowing about it. He felt sorry for her; she was so earnest in putting herself out there to him. But she’d find someone else, another man in the church, one who truly was “righteous.” And that would be best for everyone. The question was: who would she tell in the meantime? And how much trouble would she cause?

It was just another reminder he was lying to a lot of people, and if he was caught out it was his own fault. After the New Year, he told himself. If Christie still felt the same after he had his trip to New York—
please, God, let him feel the same
—if he still wanted a relationship, then David would have to work out some plans. He had to figure out how the heck any of this was going to work. He had to come clean.

God, he missed Christie. Right now he just wanted to be alone with him and hold him tight, to let all the worry go for a little while. He wanted the holidays to be over.

He was lying in bed awake at 2:00 a.m. when his phone pinged.

Back from TBR. Miss you. Hope you had a nice Christmas Eve.

David picked up his phone and called.

“Hey,” he said quietly when Christie answered.

“Hey! What are you doing still up?”

“My mom and the kids when to a midnight service, so I stayed up waiting for them to get home.”

“You didn’t go?”

“Nah. How was your night?” God, it felt so reassuring to hear the warmth in Christie’s voice.

Christie sighed. “It was fine. Kyle and Billy and I danced a lot. He made me put the phone away. That’s why I didn’t text for a while. But I missed you. I kept wondering what you’d make of the place.”

David closed his eyes and swallowed the golf ball-sized lump of relief in his throat. “It was a pretty boring night here.” “Boring” wasn’t the word for it, but Christie didn’t need to hear about his drama.

They chatted for a while about how both of their Christmas Days were shaping up. Kyle and Billy were having family over to their apartment for a meal, so Christie would be helping to cook. David’s group would hang out at the farm with a meal Amy and his mom would prepare, and probably watch Christmas movies on DVD later on. But the conversation soon turned intimate again.

“It’s eight whole days until I come home,” Christie said. “I’m not sure I can make it.”

David felt exactly the same way. “Can you come back early? It wouldn’t cost that much to change your ticket, would it?”

“No. But Amy and Joe don’t leave ’til the second. Right?”

This was so damn hard. “Right. But they’re going to a church supper for New Year’s Eve, so I’ll be home alone.”

“Really?” Christie sounded hopeful.

“I know you’d have a lot more fun in New York, though. Were you planning to go to Times Square? I always see that on TV. Looks like fun.”

“Kyle and Billy are planning to go, yeah. But God, it’s such a zoo! The crowds are crazy and the subway is a nightmare. Maybe I should just come home.”

David’s chest grew so heavy he could hardly expand his lungs to breathe. “It’s up to you. I’m sure you’ll have fun if you stay. I can’t offer you much more than a quiet New Year’s Eve at your place.”

“Sounds perfect to me.”

Christie’s voice was low and sensual, and it made David’s throat close up and heat gather in his belly. “Yeah?”

“I could move the TV into the bedroom so we could watch the countdown while we cuddle under the covers. Naked.”

Possibly the restriction occurring in the upper part of his body had to do with the fact all his blood was rushing south. The heavy blanket on his bed poked up obscenely. He got up and locked his bedroom door, phone to his ear. Then he crawled back into bed and shoved a hand down his boxers.

“I can’t think of a better way to celebrate a new year,” he said, his voiced ragged.

“God! Just the idea is making me so hard.”

“Me too.”

“Are you alone? Can you touch yourself for me?”

“Locked in my bedroom. You?”

“On the couch, but Kyle and Billy never come out once they’re in bed. I’m holding myself now, imagining it’s you in my hand.”

David groaned. “
Christie
.”

“Just hold it and squeeze for me. God, I love your dick. Want to be with you so bad right now.”

Christie was breathing hard. He didn’t talk that much during sex—David didn’t either, for that matter. So hearing him say such dirty words out loud was hot, incredibly so. David squeezed as instructed, and it felt amazing. He was already so aroused. His body had adjusted to having a lot of sex lately, and it felt like Christie had been gone much longer than four days. The relief of knowing Christie was having sex with
him
tonight, over the phone instead of with someone else at the club, added to his arousal too.

“Miss you. Miss your hands, your mouth, your ass.” David could hardly believe his own daring as he spoke the words.

“Miss you lying on me, your arms, the taste of you on my tongue. God, I’m stroking fast now. I can’t help it. Pump for me. Pretend you’re fucking me.”

David did, listening to the faint sounds of skin on skin and Christie’s breathy gasps over the phone. It was only seconds before he cried out softly, an orgasm churning in his balls and erupting onto his stomach. It felt wonderful, especially as he heard Christie come on the other end of the line. But when it was done, he felt bereft. There was no Christie there to hold, only himself in an empty room, a room he shared for twenty-odd years with Susan. It felt a little sordid.

Put that away. Be with
him
right now.

“That was good, but much better in person,” he said.

Christie laughed. “I would hope so. Otherwise you could just date a sex chat line.”

David smiled. “No worries there.”

“So… should I come home for New Year’s Eve? I could take the train back that day.”

David hesitated. “I’d love to see you. But if you want to stay, that’s fine too.”

“No, I’ll come home. If you’re sure you can get away ’til midnight?”

If Christie were coming home, David would find a way to be with him, and that was that. But it shouldn’t be a problem. The New Year’s Eve service at their church was lengthy. They always had a potluck meal, foot washing, and then a service that lead up to midnight and ended with brotherly hugs and a prayer for blessings in the New Year. Unless something happened and one of them got sick, Amy and Joe would both go to that.

“I can get away.”

“Perfect.” Christie sounded warm, satisfied, and pleased. “I’ll text you tomorrow. Okay?”

“’Night… Christie.” David nearly said “love.” But it was too soon for that.

“Hey, look at the time. It’s Christmas. Merry Christmas, David Fisher.”

“Merry Christmas, Mr. Landon.”

David hung up the phone and found his earlier tension and worry had eased from his body completely. He fell asleep almost at once.

Chapter 19

WHEN THE
morning of New Year’s Eve finally arrived, David was so impatient to see Christie that the morning passed like a slow drip on a leaky faucet. He decided he needed a distraction and roped Joe into helping him replace some broken windowpanes out in the barn. It was a cold, gray day, with the promise of more snow that night. David was praying the weather wouldn’t be bad enough to delay Christie’s train or keep Joe and Amy home from church.

“So you’re really not going to church tonight for New Year’s Eve?” Joe asked as David pried the wooden frame off the window with a flat-head screwdriver.

“No, Joe. Not tonight.”

Joe’s face darkened and he seemed to be gathering himself to speak. David knew he couldn’t avoid the lecture, so he gritted his teeth.

“We’re all worried about you. Gran too. Why aren’t you going to church anymore? Have you lost faith in God? Is it because of mom’s passing? You know she wouldn’t want this.”

“It’s not because of your mother’s passing.”

“Then what is it?”

The frame came up with a not-good splintering sound. David removed it carefully and set it on the ground. “Look, Joe, all my life I went to that church because it’s what my folks wanted, then what your mother wanted, and what was right for you kids. I’m just… taking some time to figure out what’s right for me. Can you understand that?”

Joe frowned. “But faith in God isn’t something that should wax and wane with the seasons. Whatever you’re going through, spending more time in prayer and with the support of other Christians will help.”

“I don’t care to argue about it, Joe,” David said more firmly.

Joe picked up the new glass plate and David had him hold it in place so he could put the frame back over it. He should replace the entire window. The wood was old and starting to rot. It was another task for the never-ending list of “someday” chores.

“If you won’t discuss it with me, you should at least talk to Pastor Mitchell.”

“Look, Joe. I respect your beliefs, and I support your decision to go into the ministry. Please try to respect my beliefs as well.”

“What beliefs?” Joe asked, sounding bewildered.

David barked a laugh. “When I’ve figured it out, I’ll let you know.”

They worked in silence for a while. Then Joe spoke up, his tone studiously neutral. “Are you still spending time with that neighbor, Christie Landon?”

David set some new nails and the wood of the frame cracked a little more, but it held. He sighed. “Yes. And I don’t care to debate that either. You’ve already made your opinion clear.”

Joe grunted something vaguely affirmative, but he didn’t look any less worried about it.

Amy and Joe left for church at 6:00 p.m. By then Christie had texted he was on the train, and David was ready to crawl out of his skin with anticipation. He just had time to shower before he hopped in the truck and went to pick up Christie at the train station.

When he saw that blond head come off the train and that tall, lean form in a black parka and tight jeans, it was all David could do not to grab him and kiss him right there on the platform. Instead he took Christie’s suitcase from his hand to have something useful to do, and led the way to the truck. Neither of them said anything as they drove the short distance to Christie’s house. Their eyes said it all.

When they were inside, they stood and stared at each other for a long moment without touching.

“It’s
pathetic
how much I missed you,” Christie said.

“I know. It felt like my guts were ripped out.”

Christie took a deep breath as though David’s words had struck him hard. “This is crazy.”

David knew what he meant:
It’s crazy how intense this is, how much we feel after such a short time.

“Yes, but I wouldn’t trade it.”