Bermuda Heat (6 page)

His mother re-entered the room, alone this time, and looked them both up and down. “Dinner will be formal.” She spoke to David directly for the first time. “I do hope you brought something dressier than that.” She glanced at Graham, who had come back down wearing new, crisp jeans. “You too, Graham.

We’re not barbarians here.”

She never looked at Chris.

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Once they had changed into more formal wear, Graham led them to the table. He sat David beside him and Chris opposite.

Chris was a little surprised to see David’s mother bringing in trays of food and setting them on the elaborately laid seventeenth-century oak table. He’d half expected a butler to serve. A gold-rimmed tablecloth was matched with napkins and Wedgwood dishes. When Graham offered to help, she waved him into his seat. There was something about the offer and the refusal that felt ritualistic. David’s grandmother led grace before the meal was served. David didn’t meet Chris’s gaze while the dishes were passed around. He made some small talk with Graham on his right, but Chris could tell his heart wasn’t in it.

Chris couldn’t fault her for the meal. The prime rib was succulent and barely medium rare. The roasted potatoes and corn were perfect and even the Yorkshire pudding was beyond reproach. Under any other circumstances he would have dove in and stuffed himself. As it was he managed a few mouthfuls along with a glass of passable Cabernet, then set his utensils down when David’s mother spoke up.

“So how have you been, David? You look peaked. Are you well?”

“I’m fine, Mother.”

“I hope you take care of yourself,” she said. “That city isn’t fit for a civilized man. You never know what you’ll catch from some filthy degenerate junkie. Diseases that would never have existed, except for the moral decline of our world.”

Chris nearly choked on his Cabernet. My God, she was talking about AIDS. Did she think David was exposed just because he was gay or because he was a cop? He’d thought that kind of attitude had gone the way of the Bush dynasty.

He could see by the white lines around David’s mouth that it was taking all his effort not to speak up. It was Graham who defused the situation.

He raised his wine. “Here’s to you, son. May there always be a wind at your back.”

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Chris hastily grabbed his glass and saluted the table. “To peace,” he said, earning a bemused look from David, who reluctantly followed suit.

“Peace,” he said, not once looking at his mother. “And smooth sailing.” Then he set his untouched wine down and turned toward his stepfather. “Have you been out on the lake much this year? How’s the fishing?”

“Excellent. I’ve brought home a few good trout feasts for your mother. She always did know how to prepare a fish to bring out the best in it. If you and Chris are here long enough maybe we can go out some morning. The fish bite best early—”

“Sorry, Dad,” Chris could hear him stumble over the word.

“But we have to leave the morning after next.”

“Back home so soon? You just got here.”

“No, we’ve booked a flight to Bermuda.”

Chris was watching David’s mother when David said this.

He’d give this to the old broad, she didn’t flinch. She paled, but rallied quickly.

“A pleasant place for a vacation. Your grandmother honeymooned there sixty years ago. Of course it was a much more genteel place than it is today.”

Chris didn’t need to ask who had told her that. David’s grandmother oozed upper class snobbery so thick the table stewed in it. Chris swore if she wasn’t such a blue-blood, her lip would have curled in derision at her daughter’s comment. He imagined not much could measure up to this pair’s expectations.

He tried to think of what it must have been like for David to grow up in this cold house and felt a surge of pride that he had come out of it so honorable and strong. Not to mention with his balls intact. He nearly giggled at the thought of saying that out loud. He had no doubt he could wipe that smugness off the bitch’s face. Not that anyone, least of all David, would appreciate it.

Both of them were happy to follow Graham outside to the deck overlooking the lake while the two women insisted on
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clearing the table. Chris noticed that this time no one, including Graham, volunteered to help. Out on the broad expanse of water a fifty-foot sailboat caught the stiff evening breeze. Somewhere on the far side of the lake a loon called. A second one answered.

Chris and David dragged a pair of Adirondack chairs side by side, facing the tiny shingle beach at the foot of the hill that ran down to the water.

The sun slid behind a bank of clouds. Shadow infused the deck. The temperature dropped a degree or two. Chris had stripped off his tie the minute they were outside. David did the same. After a few minutes he took off his jacket too.

“Coffee?” Graham asked. “Or another beer?”

They both took the beer. David’s mother was conspicuous by her absence. Graham fussed with a clay chiminea until he had a brisk fire going. Chris could feel the heat envelope the deck and he stretched out his legs to capture the warmth. Beside him, David did the same.

Dusk deepened and with it came the mosquitoes. Graham passed around insect spray, and tossed some pinion wood in the chiminea. “Natural bug repellent,” he said, stirring up the fire with a stick of pinion wood. Soon the whole deck smelled like a fresh-cut Christmas tree. All along the opposite shore lights were springing up. The blinking lights of a plane drifted by overhead, too far up to hear. The quiet seemed almost eerie after the continuous noise of L.A. No sirens, no barking dogs or random gunshots. Silence.

Graham seemed determined to ignore the awkwardness that had settled over them.

“Bermuda, eh? Any particular reason, or is it really just a vacation?” Graham asked quietly.

“Can’t really say right now.” David shifted uneasily. He ran his fingers through his thick hair. “Maybe later we can talk…”

“David,” Graham said, then changed his mind. He sighed.

“Your mother really does love you, you know. She’s just never been able to show it and I know that bothers her.”

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From what he could see nothing bothered David’s mother, but Chris kept his thoughts to himself. This was David’s fight, not his.

“Like I said, we’ll talk later.”

Graham nodded, clearly unhappy. “You know I’m always here for you, don’t you, son?”

“Yeah, I do, Dad. And thanks. That means a lot.”

Graham’s half-smile was bittersweet. “So tell me, how’s the job going? You still working out of Northeast?”

David nodded. Chris threw him a sharp look. No mention of quitting.

“What about you, Chris? What are you up to these days?”

“Business is good.” He toyed with the label of his beer. “I’ve picked up a few new clients and may have a line on a couple more. There’s always the heavy learning curve to keep up with new technologies. Sometimes I think I spend more time in classes than I do on the job. Thank God it’s a business expense.”

“Building a business takes time, no matter what kind it is. And it never pays to fall behind in industry knowledge, especially in such a fast changing one.” Chris knew Graham had started out with a single pharmacy in Manchester and over time expanded it until now he owned a chain throughout New England. Chris would have loved to talk to him about growing his own business, but he knew David would have a kitten if he got too friendly.

But over the evening things grew more relaxed. David started laughing at Graham’s gentle jabs. The rustle of water on the distant beach, the monotonous calls of the crickets and even the odd owl cry broke the night. Along the edges of the nearby forest, fireflies danced through the humid air.

Before he knew it, it was eleven. As though on cue, David’s mother appeared in the door.

“I’ve made up Christopher’s bed. There are fresh towels in both of your rooms. David can show you where the shower is.”

Chris could feel the tension pour through David. Trying
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to forestall a blowup, he laid his hand on David’s arm, feeling his rigidity and whispered for his ears only. “It’s all right.” He glanced at Graham. “I think I’d like to turn in. It was a wonderful evening. Thank you for dinner and the beer.”

He shot David a warning look. David subsided, though Chris could still feel his rage.

Graham stood with them and after saying goodnight set about damping the fire.

Chris followed David up the curved stairs, his jacket dangling over his shoulder. The first room was David’s. He paused in the doorway and took hold of Chris’s arm. Chris stepped into his embrace. “Let’s not make a big deal out of it,” he pleaded. “We aren’t going to be here more than a couple of days.”

“Sure,” David said. His whole body was stiff now, his anger still vibrant. He ran his hands up Chris’s arms, gripping his shoulders through his silk shirt. “Now you know why I don’t come here. She’s impossible.”

Chris stroked his lover’s rough face, lightly touching his mouth. “Where’s my room?”

David pointed right. “Shower’s between our rooms, and there’s a shared dressing room.”

“See you in the morning,” Chris said. He tilted his head up and felt David’s lips brush his.

“’Night.” David’s voice was husky.

It was the first night they’d spent apart since their wedding, outside of the times Chris had needed to travel for business. It felt weird knowing David was just through the bathroom and he couldn’t go to him.

The sheets had been changed, but the room still had the faint, musty smell of unused space.

He decided a shower could wait until morning. He stripped and folded his clothes, putting them back in his suitcase. Then he dug out his red silk pajamas and pulled them on. He usually slept nude, but that idea creeped him out, knowing that David’s family BeRMudA heAt
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was somewhere in the big house. Sliding between the combed cotton sheets he burrowed under the down comforter. The room was cool, despite the day’s heat. Tired from their long journey, he quickly found himself dozing.

He barely heard the bathroom door open. Before he could roll over a weight settled on the bed beside him and a hand came up to rest on his shoulder. David was in the velour kimono robe Chris had bought for him just because he knew the color, a deep jade, would look sensational on him.

“Did I startle you?”

“David?”

“Yeah, I couldn’t sleep. Doesn’t look like you had any problem.”

Chris sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “What time is it?”

“Just after twelve-thirty.”

“Your parents—?”

“Are in bed. Neither one of them stays up past the news.”

David’s voice hardened. “I have no idea when Nanna goes to bed.”

Chris didn’t comment. He figured it wasn’t his place and the last thing he wanted was to start an argument.

Instead he asked, “What are you doing here?”

David ran his hand under the sheet, stroking Chris’s chest through the silk, squeezing a nipple. “You have to ask?”

Chris was all too aware of David’s erection under the robe.

He was instantly hard.

“Are you sure? Your parents—”

“Have no business telling me who to sleep with.” David leaned down to tease Chris’s mouth with his lips. “Or who to love. I missed you. I’m not used to sleeping alone.”

“Me neither,” Chris whispered and threw aside the blankets.

It didn’t take either of them more than five seconds to strip. He
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pulled David down. “Fuck me, David.”

“Mmm, I was hoping you’d ask.”

Saturday, 6:15am Valley Stream Road, Holderness, New Hampshire
David slipped out of bed just as the eastern sky showed the first blush of dawn. There was no sense embarrassing Chris with the discovery that they had spent the night together. He grabbed a shower and dressed in fresh jeans and an LAPD T-shirt and headed down to the kitchen. Like every day he had known him, Graham was already there, a pot of coffee in a carafe on the kitchen bar, the thick hazelnut cream he favored beside his mug.

David nodded a greeting and grabbed a mug out of the cupboard. He slid onto a bar stool beside his stepfather. He poured the coffee, tasting the hot brew. As usual it was excellent.

“Sleep good?”

David suppressed a grin, knowing what else they’d been doing. “Very well, thanks.”

Graham spooned some sugar into another mug of coffee.

“What are your plans for today? Going to do some sightseeing?

The offer’s still open to take in some fishing.”

Somehow the idea of three of them sitting in a small motor boat under the beating sun, waiting for some fish to strike, wasn’t appealing. He could only imagine what Chris would think about it. His husband’s idea of roughing it was a third-class hotel in Mazatlan. “Maybe. Depends on what Chris wants to do.” David sipped his coffee and took the plunge. “First I need to talk to Mom. We have a few things to discuss.”

Graham’s eyebrow rose and David wasn’t surprised when he said, “Can I ask what?”

“Sorry, it’s between Mom and me. Nothing personal.”

Graham nodded, though David could tell he wasn’t happy.

“Well, I’ll leave that to you. I’ve got to go into town and do some
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work in the office. Then your mother and I might put in a round of golf. She’s got quite a handicap now.” He smiled fondly. “Will you be back for supper?”

“Maybe. I don’t know what we’ll be doing. I’ll let you know.”

David knew damn well after his talk with his mother, they wouldn’t be hanging around for supper. The fallout would likely spoil all their appetites, not to mention their golf game.

He wasn’t looking forward to this, but his mother had gone too far this time. David could have handled the truth, but he’d never been given the chance. He knew damn well his mother hadn’t operated alone, he suspected his grandmother had been involved up to her blue-blooded neck. Anything to avoid a scandal attached to the precious Willerton name.