A Wealth of Unsaid Words (5 page)

of anger that had used to mean bruised knuckles and black

eyes. Even if he"d felt it, that rage had no place in this house,

especially not now. It was Christmas, and Everett Faraday

was sharing a smile with him.

His throat tightened. Those people invested in his

reputation for dark wit could go fuck themselves. With one

compliment Everett had him speechless.

Everett squeezed his shoulder and then leaned in again,

for a hug or so Alex thought, until there was the faintest

brush of lips against his cheek and then his ear. It could

have been an accident, Everett misjudging the amount of

space between them because he was speaking. Accident or

not, Alex could no longer focus on anything else but the

place where Everett"s lips had been and Everett"s voice,

rumbling through him.

“I"m so glad you"re here,” Everett murmured, squeezing

him again to give the words a new weight, as though

anything short of commitment papers could have kept Alex

from this house. It was Christmas at the Faradays, and Alex

had waited a year for this. More, but he couldn"t count those

now with his skin wet and Everett"s hopes so near. He could

not even open his mouth to give his answer. He only shivered

and did not move. After another pause, Everett released him

and slowly stepped back to go get his things. Alex raised a

hand.

“Everett.” Alex had held the words back so long they

refused to come out as they should. It was Everett"s mother

who turned.

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A Wealth of Unsaid Words • R. Cooper

“Forget those, Everett. I am going to need some things

from the store. You and Alex can go together.” A juggernaut

of surprises and her son"s sneaky tricks. “Take our car.” Alex

was twisting to face her before he could think better of it.

“Ally, it"s freezing outside.” He hated the cold. He"d

hated it his whole life, and he was only more sensitive to it

now.

“Mom, I just got here,” Everett complained at the same

time. Ally did not seem impressed with either excuse.

Minutes later they were both bundled up again and out the

door with a list in hand. Everett gave him a chagrined look

that said it all.

Christmas
. It meant many things, the least of which was

being under the Faraday roof and Ally"s unquestioned

jurisdiction. The other things, tradition, closeness, an

impatient longing for presents, though they each already

knew or could guess what was waiting for them under the

tree, were bigger.

Three days, Alex"s mind reminded him, as though his

body was not poised to leap, and his heart was not in his

mouth as he considered this Christmas, and the wanting

and not having that was love, and desire, and despair.

But Everett"s smile was excited as they headed out, and

the fresh air put a youthful shine in his cheeks. Alex had a

feeling there was a similar expression on his face, even with

the cold.

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A Wealth of Unsaid Words • R. Cooper

e"d left his gloves in the house, but kept his hands

over the central heating vent in the car and shivered

H as the car warmed up. Everett didn"t turn on the

radio because there was no messing with George"s

preprogrammed buttons set to terrifyingly conser-

vative talk radio stations, but he cranked up the heater. For

a few moments before they left the driveway, the loud whirr

was all Alex could hear. Then Everett carefully reversed

down the driveway past all the other cars parked on the lawn

and the street. He lowered the temperature as he did, until

the escaping hot air was just a whisper.

He didn"t glance over as they reached the corner, but

Alex did. He"d already seen his old house when he"d driven

up, but being a passenger meant more time to study the

changes the new owners had made. The yard was neat, the

thin layer of snow on the sidewalk had been cleared, and

there was an electric menorah in the front window, though a

closed curtain prevented him from seeing the family inside.

Everett"s hand left the steering wheel and came to rest

over his. Alex had never met people more inclined to touch

than the Faradays, and it wasn"t as if his father had been an

unemotional man. Everett in particular was fond of these

gestures and others like them, soft, brief reminders that Alex

was not alone, at least that was how he liked to think of

them. Sometimes he wasn"t certain that was Everett"s intent

at all, but uncertainty was a dangerous thing, and he hadn"t

allowed himself to dwell on it much for a very long time.

“How are you really doing?” The question was inevitable,

but this time Everett had been kind and not asked it around

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A Wealth of Unsaid Words • R. Cooper

his family. Alex had done nothing to feel guilty about, and

yet the slightest hint of worry in Ally"s eyes was enough to

have him begging for forgiveness, which Everett damn well

knew.

He could put that same fear in Everett"s eyes, and

probably had by limiting their contact for all these months.

Whatever his therapist—and his editor for that matter—said,

he couldn"t keep pushing himself on Everett forever. A year

was what he"d given himself, and year, more or less, minus

birthdays, was what he had done.

“So far my experiment has been successful. I think I

might be cured, doc.” Sarcasm was only effective with other

people. Everett curled his fingers between his, and Alex was

a shameful hypocrite because he didn"t protest. A sound only

emerged in the next moment, when Everett pulled his hand

away to steer.

“That"s good.” Everett looked away though the streets

were nearly deserted, and kept his attention there, so Alex

looked out the window as they went by their high school,

empty for the holidays but otherwise exactly the same.

“That"s good,” Everett said again, and that he"d need to

repeat himself at all made Alex turn to study him. For far too

long, Everett wouldn"t look at him, and then he bent his

head to acknowledge something he wasn"t saying, and

smiled.

Everett was terrible at lying for someone who should

have had a lifetime of experience in masking his emotions,

but maybe he had always been terrible, and Alex had never

let himself see it. He"d
wanted
to fall for the honest little

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A Wealth of Unsaid Words • R. Cooper

dares, to paint Everett"s fences for him and drift off on

adventures together, and would have used any excuse to

follow Everett"s lead.

“I still missed you, though,” Everett admitted. “In fact, a

few times I almost dropped everything to come find you.”

“Really?” Alex had done the same nine or ten times and

had settled for texts and short phone calls instead. “Why,

Everett, I didn"t know you cared.” He glanced over, but his

sad lie became more of a soft laugh when Everett rolled his

eyes.

“Luckily, I think you were out of the country at the time,

and I came to my senses. But one of your poems ended up

on some strange website, and I wanted to tell you.”

“Out of the country? Ah, I had a reading in Canada. Not

too far away.” He couldn"t quite manage a straight face for

that. Distances had a way of seeming greater than they

actually were, as he"d learned at eighteen. Everett had gone

to a state school, but Alex had gotten a scholarship to a

school out of state, light years away from Everett and his

family with the holidays and summers spread so far apart.

It was no wonder that with that and a new school with

new pressures and his jobs and his escalating illness that

he"d broken. He wasn"t to blame, and certainly Everett had

never blamed him. Not even during the roller-coaster years of

bad meds and wrong meds and good meds that he"d refused

to take.

Letters had kept him sane at first. Until one letter to

Everett a week had become seven, then eight, then too many

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