New York Christmas (13 page)

Chris watched as he worked and it took an inordinate amount of self-control not to leap the counter and stand between hormonal new mothers with babes in arms and his strapping six five lover. In fact, in his more fanciful moments he considered making Daniel wear a T-shirt emblazoned with ‘property of Christian Matthews’. They hadn't talked about moving in together again; happy to stay in Chris's small room. But the time would come when Daniel wouldn’t take any more delays and would want Chris to move into Daniel's luxury apartment.

His cell vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out to check the screen. What he saw there was a real blast from the past. A name he never thought he would see again.

Sacred Heart School. The private school hadn’t entered into anything except written communication since the accusations of improper student/teacher interaction. He pressed the button to connect the call and then casually stood to wander away from the table. Still engrossed in baby talk, Ame and Daniel didn’t even comment at the movement.

“Christian Matthews,” he answered formally.

“Christian. How are you?” Chris frowned, attempting to place a name to the voice.

It sounded like the principal, but surely Edmund Voegleson wouldn’t be using the phone to talk to an ex-teacher from his school. “Edmund here, Edmund Voegleson.”

The person who had signed off on clearing Sacred Heart’s decks of an out gay teacher pointed out clearly who he was assumedly because Christian hadn’t replied.

“Hello,” Chris finally said. The principal coughed and muttered a few other words that Chris couldn’t make out.

“Situation is, Christian,” Edmund said abruptly as if it was the continuation to some huge conversation, “we want you to come back to Sacred Heart.”

“Back,” Chris said. There was no question in his voice, he was merely summarizing the sentence he had been given for want of something else to say.

“We have a vacancy in the English Department and I couldn’t think of a person more worthy of returning to the school than you.”

“A vacancy.” Chris tried so damn hard to keep disbelief out of his voice. What the hell was this? He felt someone at his back, the reassuring strength of Daniel gripping his arm. Leaning back on his lover, he waited to hear more.

“It wouldn’t be at your previous pay grade of course, and you would be starting at the bottom again, but I’m sure you will agree that Sacred Heart is certainly the place to be teaching.”

“I see—”

“Whitman Hamilton-Keyes has been promoted to department head. You are old…

friends… I understand.” Edmund put the emphasis on friend and bracketed it with momentary hesitation.

“Let me get this right,” Chris began pleasantly enough. He moved away from leaning against Daniel and into the hall at the bottom of the stairs, gripping hard to Daniel’s jacket and encouraging him to follow. Daniel closed the door to the shop

behind him and suddenly it was Daniel, Chris, and Edmund alone. “You are inviting me to return to a position in the English department at lower pay and reporting to the man who refused to take responsibility for what he had done and so got me fired in the first place?”

“Yes.” Edmund was full of satisfaction that dripped from the single word. “No.

Wait. Look, Matthews, it would certainly be beneficial to all concerned if you resumed your role here. Very advantageous.”

Reporting to the man who lied when asked about the emails, at a school that actively
encouraged the demonization of a gay teacher and for less money than I’m worth?
Chris knew he had to finish this conversation before he really lost control. “Sir, with all due respect, I will be declining your kind offer.”

“Oh.”

“I do, however, hope that should I need a reference, you will be in a position to provide one.”

“Of course—”

“Good day.”

Chris finished the call with a calm press of a button and then held the cell tightly to his chest. Daniel placed a single finger under Chris’s chin and encouraged him to lift his gaze.

“Are you okay? Chris?”

“I had to—” He couldn’t talk. This was Daniel standing there, the man he loved, the one person he felt entirely himself with, and he couldn’t string a sensible sentence together. “—to tell him no. I want… I don’t want that anymore. Working for Whit…

less money. I mean… what the fuck?”

“Okay. That’s fine.”

“I want to move in with you, and I need to do something with the skills I have.

Get back into teaching.” The epiphany hit Chris like a ton of bricks, and he staggered back until he hit the wall. As much as Daniel needed to be back as a cop then sure as the sun shone on a summer’s day Chris needed to teach. Tenderly Daniel placed a kiss on Chris’s lips and then cradled his face. The expression in his hazel eyes was filled with compassion and understanding, but he smirked and then full-out smiled.

“About time.”

Monday, January 14th

Daniel’s
first
day back at his desk was the very same day as the
first
interview Chris had attended since Sacred Heart and the fourth day of living together in Daniel's apartment.

“You’ll do great,” Daniel said softly as he adjusted Chris’s tie and smiled down at him.

“What if Sacred Heart gave me a bad reference?”

“They promised they wouldn’t. You don’t need to give them the power to worry you like this. Say after me, ‘I’m a great teacher.’”

“I’m a good teacher,” Chris dutifully responded.

“Great teacher.” Daniel frowned as he corrected Chris’s words.

“A great teacher.” He said the words but he wasn’t entirely convinced that what he was saying was true. Daniel was looking at him with a familiar exasperated expression. Chris loved teaching. It was what shaped his life and it had been since Peggy McGuire needed help with history when they were in fifth grade. “And look at you,” he said to change the direction of the conversation, “all muffined up?”

Daniel smirked. When Ame had knocked on Daniel’s apartment door early this morning, she had in her hands two boxes of muffins. A large one for Daniel to take to work with the words “go catch bad guys” scrawled on the lid. And a smaller box holding a single muffin; this box had a simple message and was for Chris—”good luck”.

Daniel looked down at the muffins and then back at Chris through narrowed eyes.

“Don’t change the subject,” he said firmly.

Chris sighed and laid a hand flat on his lover’s chest. Daniel was wearing his uniform, all pressed and neat, and he even had his hair in some semblance of order after it had been tidied shorter and less shaggy, ready for work. Chris didn’t want to complain about it but he sure missed the softness of the longer length.

“I’m not changing it, just consciously avoiding thinking about how easy it would be to fuck this up.”

“Chris—”

“I’m scared, Daniel. What if I get the freaking job and they find out? Should I have put it on the application form?”

Daniel looked confused for a moment. “You mean that you left Sacred Heart?”

“No, that I’m gay.”

“Was that a question on the application form?” Daniel asked patiently.

Chris blinked. “No. Of course not.”

“There you go then. Not a consideration.” Daniel dismissed his fears with a snap of his fingers. Jeez, why couldn’t Daniel see how this situation may go? With a hard kiss and a quick hug Daniel left for day one back as a City cop and finally Chris stood alone in the middle of Daniel's kitchen clutching the small muffin box and wishing he could go back to bed. Being gay had been more than a consideration at his old school; he’d lost his job because of it. Well, being gay and sleeping with that asshole Whitman.

Fuck.
This could go wrong so many ways today that he couldn’t even keep hold of all the threads.

* * * *

The principal of North Downs High School was a guy in his midforties with a serious expression and steel gray hair. He was interested in what Chris had to say and he answered questions thoughtfully about curriculum and assessment. Chris couldn’t

help but notice it appeared he had the weight of his school-based world on his shoulders.

“Look, Mr Matthews, I’m going to be honest with you. Funding is nonexistent, some of the kids don’t care, hell, some of the parents don’t care. The English rooms are in desperate need of a makeover and our pass rate on Lit is appallingly low.”

“Okay—”

“You taught at Sacred Heart: funding out of its ears, pushy parents, clever privately tutored kids, a pass rate of one hundred percent on standardized tests.” The principal was looking at his paperwork and it gave Chris time to gather his thoughts.

On paper he was so not a good fit here. Coming from some pansy-ass, full-service blueblood school to this one in a poor to middling suburb probably implied a step downwards.

“I didn’t… I wasn’t…” He stopped talking as soon as he realized that the principal hadn’t actually asked him a question outright. He’d just stated the obvious from Chris’s application. There had been no censure in the statement.

“Your references are impeccable,” the principal added and Chris nodded helplessly. He searched his head for something to say and cursed the tension that gripped his throat. What would Daniel do in this situation?

“I’m a good teacher,” Chris blurted out. “I love English; I love teaching. I want to make a difference.” He groaned inwardly as the cliché pushed its way out of his mouth.

Who the hell said they wanted to make a difference in an interview? The principal merely looked at him with a soft, understanding smile.

“There is no reason on here for leaving your last job. No words I would expect from someone joining us midsemester like you are furthering you career or that you had a personality clash. There’s just an empty box and a one year space in teaching to work at a coffee shop called Amelia’s.”

Again, he didn’t ask a question, just poked Chris in the right direction.

“I wasn’t a good fit for the school,” Chris said. That was really all he needed to say. He cursed inwardly that he hadn’t put one of the many reasons he could now think of in the box.

“What was it? Too poor for the pushy parents?” The principal chuckled at that thought. “Too young?”

“Too gay.” There. He said it. The statement was out there now.
Fuck.
Daniel was going to kill him.

The principal nodded and made a mark on the application. He then replaced the pen in its pot, pushed the paperwork to one side, and steepled his fingers. He looked thoughtful.

“I want to say that North Downs is a fully inclusive faculty where every teacher is given one hundred percent support irrespective of gender or life choice. But I can’t.”

Chris didn’t have to hear any more. His heart sunk and his mouth felt dry.

Pushing himself to stand, he extended a hand. He may have fucked this interview up but he was least leaving with dignity.

“Thank you for taking the time to consider me,” Chris said. The principal didn’t take his hand. Instead he gestured for Chris to sit, which Chris did immediately. Clearly this wasn’t finished.

“I don’t give a rat’s ass who you love or how you spend your time outside the school gates. What I want from my teachers is respect. Respect for themselves, for the school, for their colleagues, and for the kids.”

“Okay…?” Now Chris was really confused.

“The kids’ll tear you to shreds if they find out you’re different—simple classroom politics. Are you strong enough to push past that and teach well enough for them to learn to love what you are teaching them?”

“I think so—”

“Think?”

“No, sir. I know so.”

“Then, Mr Matthews, the position is yours. When can you start?”

“Uhmmm…?”
Coherent. Not.

“Could you start next Monday?”

Monday? As in a week? Seven. Freaking. Days.

“Monday? Yes, sir, I can do Monday.”

Jeez, holy shit on a stick. Seven days.

* * * *

Daniel’s desk had balloons. Okay, what his desk actually had was blown-up condoms held together with plastic ties. He guessed people were pleased he was back.

He placed the muffin box on the desk and slid into his chair. There was still an ache in his thigh but it would only get better the more he exercised it.

“Welcome back, Bailey.” Alex perched himself on the corner of his desk. It didn’t matter it was actually Alex that had picked him up and driven him in, he was still making the point of marking Daniel’s return. He helped himself to a muffin. “Thank God you're back,” he said. The muffin made it sound more like a random jumble of nothing, but Daniel got the point.

“Good to be back,” he said. A couple of other cops came over and clapped him on the shoulder and he nodded up at them to acknowledge the quiet hello.

“Emma made you this.” Alex passed him a sheet full of scribbles. A house with “POLICE” written across it and then him and what he imagined was Alex stood next to him. Emma, from her perspective, had drawn Daniel way tall and Alex way short.

Daniel stored the information away for further teasing. “She said she wants you to put it on your desk.” Daniel did that. Leaning forward, he pinned it up in his small space and then sat back to admire it amongst so many others she had done for him.

“Tell her thank you.”

“Tell her yourself. Kathy has this whole last dinner planned before she has the baby. This Saturday, you and Chris, no excuses.”

“We’ll be there. Now, what’s on the books?” Daniel asked.

“Nothing for you. You’re desking it for at least a week, and I’ve been volunteered to stay in here with you. We, my boy, have archiving to do.”

“Shit,” Daniel said grumpily. “I don’t know what’s worse, that or getting shot.”

Alex chuckled and then stole another muffin.

“Believe me, Bailey, archiving is the devil’s work. We also have this guy coming in to talk to us about community liaison work with shelters. See you at the coffee pot in ten.”

Daniel extended his legs under his desk with only a small wince of discomfort. He could handle archiving, it was just good to be back here where he made a difference.