Dissonance (18 page)

“Don’t be.” Galen’s body felt warm.

Cam shivered. How had he allowed himself to be so vulnerable?

“This stays between us,” Galen said, as if he’d read Cam’s mind yet again. “No one needs to know.”

Cam nodded, unable to speak. He believed Galen. Trusted him with the truth. More importantly, Galen seemed to understand that Cam needed to trust someone.

“I’
M
HEADING
out in about an hour,” Galen told Cam from yet another impossible yoga pose. “Wednesdays I’m at the school until around four.” This time Galen crossed his legs underneath his body the way he did when he meditated, except that he propped himself up by his arms, seemingly floating above the floor. Without a shirt to cover his upper body, Galen’s arms and abdomen revealed the landscape of tensed muscles. As always, Galen’s face remained relaxed, the only sign of his exertion a few beads of sweat on his brow and the slightly damp hair at his nape.

They’d both dozed on the couch, never having gone back to bed. Cam hadn’t heard Galen get up and change. He wondered if Galen had slept at all. He personally felt like a pile of shit.

How else should you feel the morning after you try to kill yourself?

“I’ll call the home phone to check on you. You’ll see my name on the caller ID.” Galen settled back onto the floor, then inhaled and exhaled audibly.

Cam’s first instinct was to ask what Galen would do if he didn’t answer, but he held his tongue. For all intents and purposes, Galen had saved his life. He supposed he owed Galen more than an adolescent hissy fit in response to his kindness. “All right,” he said evenly. He didn’t have to be thrilled with Galen checking up on him.

“Jamie’s coming after school today for his lesson,” Galen said. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind.” He really didn’t. Jamie seemed like a good kid.

“If you want to check in with the outside world,” Galen said, “feel free to use the computer in the study upstairs.”

“I don’t want you involved in my mess, Galen,” he said. “If they were to trace me to you….”

“I wouldn’t care, Cam.” Galen slowly moved into another position by leaning on his arms, stretching his legs behind him, and arching his back. “But if you’d be more comfortable, you could use the computer at the library. They have about a dozen workstations set up there.”

Cam forced himself to focus on something other than the tight muscles of Galen’s arse through the filmy cotton of his yoga pants. “I’ve never been to a library here. Do I need to join?”

“Not for Internet. Anyone who wants to use it can, even without a library card.”

“I’ll think about it.” He wasn’t sure he was ready to face the outside world. Not yet. But he also knew he couldn’t stay here forever. Sooner or later he’d have to face Duncan and the authorities.

I
N
THE
end, Cam decided against the library. Or more accurately, the wave of sheer terror he experienced when he got dressed and started to walk out the front door decided for him. He spent the afternoon in the living room, alternately dozing and reading a book about music in ancient Egypt he’d halfheartedly chosen off Galen’s shelf the night before.

At some point he stopped reading about the status of musicians in the temples and realized he’d been staring at the words without really seeing them. He shivered and pulled a crocheted throw around his shoulders.

Had he really tried to kill himself last night?

Yes.

What now?
Nothing had changed since then. He was still the same person, wasn’t he?

He rubbed his eyes and stared out the doors that opened onto the backyard. He thought of raking leaves. Of how it had made him feel good. What the bloody hell was wrong with him that he thought raking leaves was something to be happy about?

In your fucked-up life, it’s better than nothing.

Nothing. That was what he felt. Numb. He felt as though he’d been floating in a lifeboat, tossed around by the waves, and then suddenly the water was smooth as glass. But he was still on the water. No land in sight.

The phone rang.

“Hello, Galen.”

“I had a few minutes between classes,” Galen said. “I wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Great.”

“Right.” Galen’s voice sounded warm and reassuring.

“What do you expect me to say?” Cam asked without his usual bile. He felt too tired to find it in him.

“Just that you’re hanging in there.”

“Yanks.” Cam smiled in spite of himself.

“You’re just jealous.”

Cam chuckled and leaned back on the couch. “Fuck you.”

“Glad you’re feeling better, Cam.”

After that, Galen called him nearly every hour. Cam didn’t find it as irritating as he’d thought he would. In fact, he felt good knowing Galen would call again in another hour. Not that Cam had any thought that he’d try to kill himself again, but he felt genuine fear that something might happen to make him
want
to try. He knew that sort of thinking didn’t make much sense, but then
nothing
that had happened in the past week or so had make sense to begin with.

Max’s bark startled him awake at about four o’clock.

A few minutes later, Galen came into the living room. “Good nap?” he asked as he made his way around the couch, folding the unused throws and placing them in a neat pile, then straightening the pillows.

Cam nodded, not knowing what else to say. Galen bent down and straightened the shoes Cam had kicked onto the carpet. Cam was sorely tempted to move one of the shoes so that it was slightly crooked just so he could watch Galen straighten it again. But he didn’t.

“I’ll make some tea.”

Cam fought the urge to say something about tea not fixing everything. He wondered vaguely if Galen didn’t insist on doing things for him because he
knew
Cam felt uncomfortable when he did. Maybe this was like becoming a vegetarian—a test of his willpower.

You’re totally mad, you know. It’s just tea, for God’s sake!
Luisa did things for him all the time.
And you pay her for it.

The doorbell rang a moment later, interrupting his thoughts. Just as well. He was tired of thinking about things. What had thinking about anything gotten him?
A handful of little pink pills and a death wish.

“Good to see you again, Jamie,” Cam said as Galen led Jamie into the living room.

“You too, Cam.” Jamie reminded Cam a little of himself, years before. Smaller than most of the other kids. Effeminate. A little shy. Well,
that
had certainly changed when Cam went away to school, and damn quickly.

“I’ll take care of the tea,” Cam said as Jamie unpacked some music from the backpack slung over his shoulder. “Would you like some too, Jamie?”

“Oh, no, thanks. I’m fine.” Jamie set the music on the piano.

“Mind if I listen in?” Cam asked. “If that’s all right with your teacher.” Cam caught Galen’s eye, and Galen nodded his approval.

“Really?” Jamie’s face brightened. “You… you’d want to?”

“Really.” Cam offered Jamie a smile and added, “I’ve heard you before, remember? You play very well.”

“Thank you. I’d really like that.” Jamie rubbed his hands together and began to play some scales as Cam went to the kitchen and put some water on.

Even Jamie’s scales and arpeggios sounded lovely as they echoed through the house. By the time Cam walked back into the living room with two cups of tea, Jamie had begun to play the Gershwin. Cam handed Galen his tea, then settled onto the couch. As soon as he’d set his cup on the table, Max hopped up and curled into a ball beside him.

Galen leaned against the piano and listened for a few minutes before interrupting Jamie. “I really like how you’re taking more time there.” He pointed to a spot in the score. “I think you can do more of that here as well.” He indicated another phrase. “And what you’re doing, expanding the time between the notes and letting them ring a bit, you can do even more of that. Remember, this is where the piano has the melody. Don’t be shy.”

Jamie nodded, then played the passage again. This time he did exactly what Galen had suggested. The change made all the difference, turning the broadly written passage from competent and well played into something worthy of a concert hall. Cam marveled at how quickly Jamie adjusted his playing to incorporate Galen’s suggestions and how spot-on Galen’s suggestions were.

“That’s it!” Galen clapped his approval, and Jamie grinned as though he’d just been given a gift. Cam could almost imagine himself in Jamie’s place as he remembered his own sense of accomplishment when, years before, his teacher had complimented his playing. Not that he’d ever been as gifted a musician as Jamie, but he understood the pleasure.

The rest of the lesson passed in much the same way, with Jamie playing and Galen encouraging. When Galen suggested Jamie play the entire piece through, Cam found himself listening to see which of Galen’s suggestions Jamie remembered. Nearly all, in the final analysis. And when Jamie finished, both Cam and Galen clapped.

“Juilliard will be lucky to have you,” Cam told Jamie as he packed up an hour later. “I know you’re going to do well there.”

“Do you play?” Jamie asked as the three of them walked to the front door.

“Used to, when I was your age. Not that I was anywhere near as talented, but I enjoyed it.”

“You should play,” Jamie said. “Mr. Rusk always says that music is for the musician first, and the audience second. If the musician doesn’t enjoy it, the audience won’t.”

Cam caught Galen’s knowing look from behind Jamie. “Well said.” Cam held Galen’s gaze for a moment. He’d sensed this in Galen’s playing—the sheer joy of creating the music. He’d never thought much about it, but he had to agree with Galen.

“W
E
’
VE
GOT
about an hour and a half before dark,” Galen said after Jamie left. “Mind helping me outside?”

“Leaves?” Cam chuckled. Knowing Galen’s need to have everything neat and in its proper place, Cam guessed the piles of leaves had been calling to him the past few days.
Or screaming at him.

“We could shoot a few hoops instead.”

“Hoops? As in basketball?” Cam shook his head. “That’s the extent of my basketball ability—knowing that shooting hoops
is
basketball.”

“Leaves, then.” One side of Galen’s mouth quirked upward.

“You never intended to play basketball, did you?” Cam put his hands on his hips in mock indignation.

“Am I that obvious?” Galen grinned outright this time, then motioned to the back door.

“Entirely. And what if I’d said I love to shoot hoops?”

Galen raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

“Lucky bugger,” Cam said as he followed Galen out the back door with Max at his heels.

“So what do you do with all these leaves?” Cam asked a few minutes later as they deposited yet another pile on top of the ones at the back of the yard.

“Compost them.” Galen pointed to a fenced-off garden on the side of the house, where a few straggly plants remained. “I grow vegetables in the spring. Underneath all these is the good stuff I’ll mix into the soil before I plant.”

“We had a garden growing up. Mostly herbs, but sometimes Cook would grow tomatoes and peppers. She loved to yell at me when I’d steal them.” Cam smiled at the memory. He was pretty sure she’d liked that he’d eaten them. He realized now that she probably felt someone appreciated her hard work.

“I only share my tomatoes with the deer around here,” Galen said with a laugh. “But they usually don’t clean me out.”

Cam raked too hard and several leaves flew into the air. “How do you make your piles so perfectly round?”

“No idea,” Galen said. “But I like them that way.”

“And what if I were to make them square?” Cam poked at one of Galen’s piles. More leaves caught the slight breeze, and one settled onto Galen’s head.

“Oh, that’s
good
.” Galen pulled the leaf off his head and glared at Cam. “Can’t make your piles perfect, so you attack me with my own neat pile.”

Cam bit his lower lip, put down the rake, then tossed an entire armful of leaves at Galen. “Take that!” he shouted.

Galen leaned his rake against a nearby tree, then scooped up some leaves and deposited them on Cam’s head. “Back at you, bro.”

By the time Cam had another few handfuls of leaves, Galen too had reloaded. They threw the leaves at each other as Max ran around them and barked. As Cam grabbed more leaves, Galen shoved a handful down his back.

“Not fair!” Cam pulled his shirt from his jeans and shook out the leaves, then ran after Galen before he could reload. “You are
so
going to pay for that!” He chased Galen around the yard. Galen ran faster than Cam, but Max had clearly decided to back the underdog, and between the two of them, Cam was able to back Galen into one of his perfect piles and tackle him.

“You didn’t say you played football,” Galen said as Cam shoved a handful down Galen’s shirt and grinned broadly.