Mandarin Orange: Sweet and Sour (4 page)

“Riley! Hey there!” He looked away from the kids to see Beverly Henderson coming down the steps from the front porch. “Good Lord, Riley, what manner of fell beast has you in its clutches?”

Riley sighed and shook his head sadly at the blonde, thirty-something woman. “Pretty sure it’s a demon, Bev,” he answered, still doing his best to look sorrowful. “Friend of mine conjured it up, then he bashed his fu... funny head in, so now I’m stuck doing the stink-monster’s bidding.”

Beverly laughed. “He’s cute.”

Riley almost agreed, until he realized she was talking about the dog. “He’s a menace.” But he was grinning when he said it. He actually liked Goober. He just didn’t want the dog to know it. “How’s your summer going? How’s Andre? Haven’t seen you guys around much lately.”

Bev rolled her eyes for a moment, then smiled again. “Andre’s in Baltimore until Thursday. It’s his mother’s sixty-fifth birthday this week and she wanted him to make it a real visit. And my summer students at the college are... pretty much what you’d expect, really. Some of them are great and taking summer session because they love learning, and some are there because they partied too hard last semester and need the grades. On the whole, it’s not too bad.”

“So you’re not in Baltimore with Andre because you’re teaching?” That sounded weird to Riley, considering how much Beverly and Andre seemed to live in each other’s back pockets. They both taught at the same school, even. If Andre could get away for a few days, it seemed strange that Beverly hadn’t been able to take the time off, too.

Beverly’s lips compressed to a thin line, then relaxed. “Why don’t you and yon hellish hound come over to this side of the fence? I’ll bring some lemonade out onto the porch. We can catch up while the kids get acquainted with their slobbery new friend.”

Riley considered asking for a rain check, but the kids started hollering excitedly, even the girls, so he gave in as gracefully as possible. “Fine,” he grumbled. “But I’m not responsible if he fu... messes up their clothes or whatever.”

Five minutes later, Goober was running around like the big, bumbling puppy he apparently believed himself to be. The kids were taking turns chasing him and being chased, and Riley was perched carefully on the edge of a wicker loveseat on the Hendersons’ front porch.

It had been months since he’d actually taken the time to sit and talk with either Henderson adult, Riley realized then. It made sense, considering that Bev and Andre taught classes and Riley worked the six p.m. to two a.m. shift at Safe Haven Security, but even so. He used to make time and he hadn’t been doing that lately. Not since Jeremy had moved in with Troy Ballard, anyway.

“Sorry I’ve been such a fucking stranger, Bev,” he said when she came out of the house with a pitcher of lemonade in one hand and two glasses in the other. The screen door shut behind her with a loud snap. She shook her head as she placed pitcher and glasses on the small, glass-topped table, then sat down in the wicker chair near the loveseat. “It’s been a fucked-up few months,” he added.

“But is it getting better?” Beverly looked truly concerned while she poured for them both. “And no matter what you may think, Riley, it’s not always your responsibility to make sure we talk. Andre or I could have stopped by any number of times, but we didn’t. So. Whatever it is that’s kept you away, is it getting better?”

Riley accepted the glass she offered, then took a sip of tart-but-sweet liquid. He waggled his free hand in the standard yes-and-no sign. “The guy I used to work with -- you remember Jeremy, right? I must have mentioned him before.”

She arched a brow and took a drink from her own glass. “Only about a million times, but I’m afraid I don’t recall too many particulars.”

“Okay. So Jeremy started seeing this guy a while ago, and...” Riley found himself telling Beverly all about how a noise complaint had thrown Jeremy and Troy Ballard together... and how Riley’s best friend didn’t seem to have much time for anything anymore. “It sucks,” he grumbled.

Beverly nodded and leaned forward, patting Riley’s hand where it sat on his thigh. “It does. But Riley... one of these days, you’re going to meet the right one. And when you do, you’ll realize that Jeremy is still your best friend. Just because he’s not spending hours every day with you doesn’t mean he doesn’t still love you. In that strange man-way I’ll never understand, of course.”

“What-fucking-ever.” Riley forced a chuckle. “So. Your turn, Bev. Fucking amazing try at derailing that topic, though. Too bad I’m smarter than I look, huh?”

Bev smiled, then looked down at her hand. Or at her wedding ring, maybe. Riley couldn’t be sure. “It’s simple,” she said, and she sounded resigned, somehow. “Andre and I have been married for twelve years, and his mother still doesn’t understand why he had to go falling for ‘some white woman.’ She’s never met me or the kids, and she doesn’t want to. But Andre loves his mother, and he should. She gave up so much to raise him and his sisters. And she would put up with it if I insisted on being there, but she wouldn’t be happy. It’s her birthday, Riley, so I told him to go.” Beverly’s smile didn’t reach even halfway to her eyes, but Riley pretended not to notice. “Andre told Samuel and Belinda that their Granny Henderson is sick, and that’s why they can’t see her. I suppose that’s true in a sense.”

Fuck if Riley even had words to express his opinion. Not consciously, anyway. His mouth, on the other hand, seemed to have its own ideas and bypassed conscious thought in an instant. “That’s fucked up. Like, seriously,
seriously
fucked up, Bev. Shit, I thought all that race crap was in the past. Fuck. Sorry.”

Beverly smiled again, no more convincingly. “It is, in some places. Just like all the gay stuff isn’t an issue in certain areas. And I’m not saying they’re the same thing, but they make about as much sense, as far as I’m concerned.”

There wasn’t much Riley could say to that, so he just nodded and finished the lemonade in his glass, even with it being heavily diluted by the ice that had melted during their conversation. At least Goober would be tired when Riley got him home. That was a fucking comfort.

Chapter Four

Kelly still didn’t know what he was going to do in Hartford for the next week, but he knew he needed to do something. Specifically at night, because Riley worked nights. Kelly had known that, sort of, because Riley had mentioned it a time or two since Kelly’s arrival on Saturday, but here it was, Monday evening, and for some reason the idea of being alone at Riley’s with just Goobs for company until very early Tuesday morning didn’t sit well. More to the point, it sounded boring. And it didn’t even look like there was going to be anything worth watching on the tube.

Maybe he was still more concussed than he’d thought. That was the only reason Kelly could find for his sudden, unexpected sense of loneliness. Riley wasn’t gone yet, but Kelly still felt alone. That was saying a lot, considering that Kelly had always enjoyed his own company. He had friends back home, of course, but he’d never been one of those guys who needed to be surrounded by people all day, every day. So feeling lonely because Riley was going to work? Well, it had to be due to the head injury.

Or else I just like him. That could be it, too. I like him and he’s pretty hot. And if he weren’t ‘close friends’ with Peter Jamison, maybe I’d see whether... no. I don’t know if he’s really gay, or maybe just bi. He doesn’t exactly come across as gay, but he must be at least bi, or that whole ‘close friends’ thing wouldn’t work. But either way, he’s involved with Peter Jamison, and even if he swings, I’m not going there. And I’ve had enough experience with bisexuals to last me a lifetime. Crap.

He really didn’t know Riley’s inclinations. Riley didn’t seem to want to clear up the question, either, which wasn’t to say that Kelly had asked. Gay or bi, Riley for damned sure hadn’t expressed any interest in getting up close and personal with Kelly. Or no more so than insisting Kelly and Goobs stay in the surprisingly well-kept two-bedroom apartment, anyway.

“No, he really hasn’t,” Kelly muttered to himself, flipping channels rapidly. Goober snuffled and rolled on the floor, showing his belly.

“Dude. You say something?”

Kelly turned, already smiling, and froze for just a moment at the sight that greeted him. “No,” he answered, shaking off his initial disbelieving reaction to seeing Riley in the less than appealing short-sleeved white button-down shirt with matching pockets on each side, black slacks, equally black shoes, and a black baseball cap that bore the Safe Haven Security logo in gold, blue and white. “Sorry. Just talking to myself.”

Riley’s lips twitched, one corner of his mouth quirking up into a half-grin that should have looked stupid but instead was far too appealing for Kelly’s peace of mind. “That something you make a habit of or is it the fucking concussion, man?”

God. Riley’s eyes were shining, but Kelly was sure he saw concern there, as well. The conviction was borne out a second later when Riley moved closer to the couch.

“Hey, I can call in if you’re not feeling good. I haven’t taken a sick day in two years. They owe me.”

That was just too much. Sweet, which Kelly still didn’t expect, even with sweetness seeming to be Riley’s default setting. The man talked like a thug, with all the cussing, but Riley’s personality somehow cut the cringe-worthiness. How anyone could say the things Riley did and still come off as a good guy wasn’t something Kelly could explain, but there it was. Sweet guy, filthy-dirty mouth. Annoying jerk.

“I’m fine,” Kelly said bluntly, that kindness rubbing him the wrong way right then. “Save your sick leave for when you really need it. Or use it for extra vacation time. Go have fun at work.”

A snort answered his words, but Goobs rolled again and stood, then made a beeline for Riley, who snapped out “Down!” Kelly was relieved to see that the worry he’d probably imagined was gone when Riley looked at him again. “They call it work for a reason, man. It’s fucking boring as shit, which pretty much makes it the antithesis of ‘fun.’ And they’re probably gonna give me a new fucking trainee tonight, so it’ll be hell.” Riley shrugged and turned toward the door. “Besides, if I added all my accumulated sick leave to my accumulated holidays, I’d be away from work for, like, a month and a half. My boss would fucking kill me. Then again, he’s gonna saddle me with another crappy trainee. I’m pretty sure this one’s gonna be even worse than the last, so... whatever. Later, okay?”

Kelly kept his eyes locked on the swiftly flickering channels on the TV instead of turning to the door. “Yeah. Whatever. See you.” He would, too. Would see Riley. In the morning, because Kelly was definitely planning on hiding from that kind nature once Riley got home from work. It bothered him, that sweetness. Made him think Riley actually cared more than seemed reasonable when all the guy had done was take Kelly in for a few days. And Kelly was going to be living downstairs eventually, so maybe that explained it. Riley was just looking out for him, and by extension...

“Making sure I don’t try to cause any problems for his ‘close friend’ Peter. Not that I ever would, but somebody else might. It’s like a national sport.” Kelly frowned, thumb hard on the channel button, but he wasn’t paying attention to the flashes of reruns, infomercials, shopping networks, and movies.

That was the most likely reason for the way Riley was acting, and Kelly felt like an idiot for not realizing it until just then. Of course, he also didn’t know why the idea bothered him so much, except Riley was a decent guy, really. Not the kind who deserved to be used by someone, the way Kelly’s stepdad had implied Peter Jamison used men.

But Riley was also an adult. Kelly figured him for twenty-seven, maybe twenty-eight. Riley was old enough to know what he was doing with his own life, wasn’t he?

“Crap.”

***

He’d been right about the new trainee. This one
was
even worse than the last. Older than Riley -- the man had to be in his mid-thirties and obviously resented being taught the ropes by someone Riley’s age -- Lorenzo seemed sure that he already knew everything there was to know. Lorenzo also seemed to have a problem with every single person they drove past on their rounds while it was still light enough out to see details.

“Look at that,” the man said, nodding at Mrs. Jeffries as she pulled two bags of groceries from the back of her car while hollering for her kids to come help. “How does she even live there? She looks like a whore.”

“She lives in the community that pays us to patrol,” Riley said, doing his best to sound less angry than he was rapidly becoming. “That makes her a client.” To be fair, the fortyish woman didn’t dress her age, but she didn’t look it, either, and as she and her husband seemed to like the way she looked, Riley didn’t figure anyone else had a right to complain. Honestly, he thought she looked pretty hot. Not at all like someone who’d been married long enough to have three kids who ranged in age from sixteen down to eight or so. Hell, if he’d seen her in a bar or something without knowing anything about her, he probably would have taken a shot.

Lorenzo did something that might have been a smile, but it looked sick and twisted and wrong to Riley. “I bet she’s more used to
having
clients than being one,” the guy said, and that was enough. Right then and there, it was enough. Riley had spent the last two hours listening to the fucker rant on and on about various ethnic groups -- specifically people of the ethnicities who lived in the very pricey Hartford neighborhood they patrolled -- and he was sick of it. Also sickened by it.

“I think we should head back to the office,” he said after a minute or so. “I need to talk to Maughrey.” Not that Riley really thought the manager would do anything other than hopefully assign Lorenzo to a different trainer, but fuck if Riley thought he could stay in the damned car with the asshole without belting him one.

Lorenzo repeated the weird-ass smile from a few seconds earlier. “Good. My sister wanted me to tell him to bring home some Scotch, anyway. She doesn’t like calling him at work.”

Well, that explained how Lorenzo had gotten hired, Riley realized. The boss was married to -- or possibly just sleeping with -- Lorenzo’s sister. It also explained why Lorenzo was so obviously unconcerned about the garbage he’d been spewing. Nepotism at its best. Shit.

Riley was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t realize he’d followed his usual route and turned down Troy Ballard’s street. Jeremy’s street now, too. Then the fucking asshole
trainee
pointed it out.

“Jesus Christ! Look at that! It’s fags on parade!”

Riley looked. Of course he did. When someone said
look
like they’d just seen a fucking dinosaur, whoever they were talking to looked. Just like happened whenever someone said
don’t look now, but
...

He’d been wrong before, Riley realized as he somehow managed to keep the patrol car at a steady pace while Lorenzo’s voice went on and on, spewing poison. It hadn’t been quite enough when it was still Lorenzo commenting on Mrs. Jeffries. But the things the fucktard was saying right then about everyone gay? Oh,
that
was it. All of it. Riley might say similar things from time to time, but never seriously, and never behind anyone’s back. When Riley said shit like that, it was always to peoples’ faces. Fortunately, those people were his friends and knew he didn’t mean anything bad by it. Lorenzo, on the other hand? No. Just no.

Ten minutes later, Riley pulled the patrol car into the parking lot of Safe Haven Security’s offices. He climbed from the car and threw the keys to Lorenzo, then moved as calmly as possible to the front door.

He stepped inside, not bothering to hold the door for his trainee, and walked steadily to the main office, where he opened Maughrey’s door after knocking just once.

“I’m not feeling so good,” he said, throwing his work cap onto the desk in front of the obviously surprised man. “I might fucking hurl all over your desk. So I’m leaving. You’ll have to find someone else to train Lorenzo. I think I have a virus, or maybe an ulcer. He has the keys.”

“Riley.” Maughrey frowned. “Close the door and tell me what’s going on.” The frown only deepened when Riley did as instructed and closed the door, leaving Lorenzo in the hallway. “You don’t get sick,” Maughrey said then. “It seems strange that you’re all of a sudden ill
now
.”

Riley did his best to meet his boss’s stare, but fuck it. “I am,” he insisted. “Seriously, man, I totally feel sick to my stomach.” It was true, really, which was a good thing because Riley wasn’t good at lying, in general. “I’m sure it’ll pass, but...”

A soft, disgusted-sounding chuckle interrupted the words, then Maughrey added some of his own. “But you don’t want to work with Regina’s brother. Funny, I’d think you’d be glad to be training someone like him. Especially after you had to work with Nelson for so long. At least Lorenzo won’t hit on you.”

“What the fuck? Jer never hit on me. He’s my best friend!” And maybe he should have kept that to himself, Riley realized, because Maughrey’s face twisted into what could only be described as a sneer.

“Oh. ‘Friend.’ I should have guessed.” Yeah, that was definitely a sneer on Maughrey’s face. In the man’s voice, too. Disdain, revulsion, and loathing, all wrapped up in one package, for fuck’s sake. “Fine. You’re ‘sick.’ Go ahead home, then. I’ll find someone else to train Lorenzo. He probably wouldn’t be safe with you, anyway.”

Riley didn’t wait for Maughrey to say anything else, he just turned on his heel and stalked out, ignoring Lorenzo when he passed the man in the hall.

Fuck Lorenzo. And fuck Safe Haven Security if Maughrey doesn’t know Lorenzo’s a fucking piece of shit who’ll never be able to do this job without offending every fucking client we have. Did he seriously just fucking imply that I’m gay just because Jeremy is? Yeah, fuck Maughrey. In the metaphorical way, ‘cause the other is too fucking gross to even think about... And fuck
Kelly
for reminding me about my sick days, for fuck’s sake!

Except Riley didn’t really mean that last. If Kelly hadn’t gotten the connection between sick days and using them for other things into Riley’s head, Riley probably would have quit instead of pleading sick. He honestly didn’t know why Lorenzo’s particularly broad-scoped brand of hate bothered him so much, either. He’d been set to train bigots before. For some reason, though, it felt more personal this time. It was confusing, but Riley couldn’t deny the truth of it. He just wished he knew why.

An hour and a half later, when he was comfortably ensconced in a chair on the back deck at Jeremy and Ballard’s place, Riley still didn’t have a single clue. But he felt secure in the knowledge that he’d done the right thing. All his and Jeremy’s friends had told him so, repeatedly. And if a few of them -- specifically Pauly, Randy, and James -- were acting incredibly fucking weird, well, that wasn’t exactly unusual for the threesome. The twinkies-three hadn’t been what Riley would call normal even once since he’d first met them. That they were smirking more often than not was just fucking irrelevant.

Their smirks only grew deeper when they suggested meeting up at Riley’s the following afternoon and Riley agreed, with the proviso that nobody mention he was on sick leave.

It wasn’t a secret, exactly, but the last thing Riley needed was to have Kelly worried that Riley’d jeopardized his fucking job because of what Kelly had said. He also didn’t want to have to explain his reasons. Kelly might feel guilty or something, thinking Riley’s reaction to Lorenzo’s sour hatred toward ethnicities and gays was because of Kelly, rather than because it was plain fucking wrong.

Riley was just being a good friend, and the twinkies-three could laugh as much as they fucking wanted to, as long as they didn’t rat him out.

***

Three nights of sleeping in Riley’s spare room and hanging out with the guy during the day had Kelly feeling a little bit off.

Sure, there was still gratitude for the way Riley had rescued him, but there was also resentment for the fact that Kelly had needed rescuing in the first place. Gratitude that Riley had woken him up every hour that first night. Resentment for feeling like he owed Riley. It was messed up.