Faith and Fidelity (12 page)

“Hey.”

“What?” Evan called, not turning around. He waited in the doorway.

“Yeah. Makes me happy.”

Evan's head dropped. Matt wanted to believe he was smiling.

“Good.” His voice was slightly muffled, as he went into the bathroom and shut the door.

Matt got up, busied himself with folding the blankets, closing the couch. He pulled on his shorts, lying on the floor near the window— wondered how the hell they got there, recalled a lot of urgency in getting out of his clothes and touching Evan.

There were still some pieces in their shipping materials... only the couch and recliner were unpacked and sitting in their proper spots. With a sigh, Matt sat down in the chair, stared out the window to watch the garden across the street. The steam heat pushed its way through the radiator, taking the chill off of Matt's skin.

It felt so right to be here, to be listening to his shower run, knowing Evan was standing under the stream of water. He wanted to figure out when they'd be together again. Wanted to know when he could spend time with the whole family... didn't want to think about having this end.

“What are you doing for Thanksgiving?”

“Eating the turkey special at Ed's.”

“I have to go to my in-laws... ”

“And what? You need a date or something?”

“Oh God. I don't even want to think about my in-laws finding out about us.”

Matt clutched the phone tighter, partially because of the fear of discovery, partially because Evan said us. “What about Thanksgiving?”

“We should be home by five. I was thinking of inviting some people over.”

“Who?”

“Vic, Helena... ”

“You going to talk to Helena tomorrow?”

“No, I was going to wait for Thursday. I don't want to do it while we're working.”

“And Vic?”

“I'm thinking that maybe he should know... in case something gets around... ”

Deep breath, Matt thought. Take a deep breath. He knew Vic Wolkowski to be an open-minded and decent guy but the thought of telling him... telling anyone. “Uh... could we wait a little bit? Let's just start with Helena, okay?”

“Yeah, fine. Whatever. I'm still going to have him over on Thursday.”

“Great. I'll... uh... bring something. Dessert or something. See you at five then?”

“Okay.”

Back to silence, Matt thought. What the hell do you say to the man you spent the weekend with— in bed?

As if reading his thoughts, Evan said, “I had a good weekend, Matt. Thanks.”

“Thanks?” Matt snorted. “Believe me when I say I got as good as I gave.”

“And on that note... ” Evan was laughing and that sounded good to Matt.

“Say hi to the kids.”

“Yeah. They told me to tell you hello. Wanted to know when they were going to see you again.”

Matt smiled. “Tell them they won't be able to get rid of me on Thursday.”

Evan cleared his throat. “You should... uh... bring some clothes with you... ”

“Sure... okay... you sure?” Matt stammered. “Your kids... ”

“What are you talking about, you're still sleeping on the couch.”

“Oh... yeah... of course.”

“But be prepared for a visit or two. See you Thursday.”

And Matt heard a click. Waiting until Thursday was going to be torture.

Fighting through torrential rains, Evan got to work on Monday at eight thirty a.m. He whistled a little bit as he got his coffee, which elicited an odd look from Moses, who was rooting around in the donut box.

“Morning.”

“Yeah— Morning.” Moses watched Evan go back to his desk. “You're awfully upbeat on this hellacious Monday. What put the snap in your step?”

With a shrug, Evan sat down at his desk. “Nothing in particular. Just a good weekend that's all.” He felt Moses's narrow gaze, heard him sniffing the air at the whiff of a secret. Evan tried to relax into his seat, busying himself with his daily routine.

He was praying he'd strategically hidden the bite marks on his neck, that no one would notice his shirtsleeves were staying down for the day (Matt's little tattoo fetish had left quite a reminder on the inside of his forearm). It was strange... and a little exciting... to be carrying around— evidence.

Deep in his remembrance, he almost missed Helena walking through the station house door. They exchanged wary glances across the floor, then she busied herself with hanging up her wet things. Evan sighed. This couldn't go any longer. He got up and met her at the coffee machine.

“Hi.”

“Morning. Any calls yet?”

“Uh no. Helena?”

“I went over the files for the McCrory case. I think I'm ready to testify.”

“Helena, could we talk for a minute?”

“This is talking,” she said coolly.

“Please. Come out in the hallway for a second.”

With obvious reluctance she followed him out into the hall. Standing against the wall with her arms crossed she waited for him to speak.

“Helena, I'm sorry for what I said to you last week— or actually, I'm sorry for what I didn't say. You're right. I wasn't handling things well at all and I snapped at you because... because I was an idiot.”

He got a small smile from her. “Go on. I'm enjoying this.”

“I'm a really big idiot?”

“Evan— you can't have it both ways. Either we're friends and we talk or we have nothing to say to one another outside of our work. I can't shut off being concerned about you. Any more than you could do it for me.”

“I'm scum.”

“Stop it. I'm worried about you— I won't lie and say I'm not. I promised not to hover but you have got to stop dismissing me. It's pissing me off.”

“See, that I noticed.” Evan took a deep breath. “I'm sorry.”

“Are you going to tell me what's going on? Why you're acting so weird?”

“I'm just confused... about this potential relationship... it's a difficult situation. Extenuating circumstances if you will... ” Actually it was probably misleading to say potential since Evan had spent almost thirty-six hours intermittently naked in Matt's bed, but... whatever. He just needed to get through this conversation. “Listen, why don't you stop by on Thanksgiving, at night. After you drop your grandmother off. Vic's coming by and a... a few other people probably. We can talk then... I... uh... I have a lot to talk to you about.”

She didn't say anything.

“I... uh... the person is going to be there. The person I've been talking about. So you can meet.” Again. But this time, the circumstances were very different. Evan tried not to turn red but it was impossible. He felt his whole body clench at the thought of anyone knowing about he and Matt. But he couldn't keep Helena in the dark forever. It wasn't fair.

Still solemn, Helena nodded. “All right. I'll come by. I don't understand why we can't talk before then.”

Evan shifted, uncomfortable. “Well this just isn't the place to say... certain things.”

He watched her swallow, move nervously from foot to foot.

“Okay.”

There was a long uncomfortable silence that Evan didn't quite understand... Helena seemed to pull herself out of it and she smiled.

And then Helena punched Evan in the arm. “Stop being such an ass okay? Answer my questions and no one will get hurt.”

“So this is settled? ‘Cause we spent a whole week in a fight that I didn't quite understand.”

“Yeah. I overreacted just a tad I think. If I come on Thanksgiving I meet the mystery girl who's causing you to act crazy?”

“Yeah.” Sort of kind of. The crazy part was definite.

“I'll be there at seven. Can I bring my mom?”

“Sure, the more the merrier.” Oh Jesus, Evan thought. Matt was going to lose his mind. The crowd kept growing.

“Great.” Helena seemed back to normal and that made Evan relax. She reached out and squeezed his forearms. “I'm planning on continuing to ask you personal questions but without hovering, and I expect straight answers. ‘Kay?”

Evan nodded, smiling.

Helena smiled back and turned back down the hallway, past where Moses was obviously faking an intent study of a folder. She rolled her eyes at Evan and went to sit down.

Evan sagged against the wall. That took a lot out of him and shit, they hadn't even gotten to the part where he said the words, I'm involved with Matt Haight. He rubbed his face and headed back toward his desk. Moses hadn't moved.

“Can I help you?” he asked wearily. There was a little gleam in Moses's eyes that was making him nervous.

“Nope. Just reading my file.” He gave Evan the skunk eye and turned on his heel to go back in the squad room.

Evan counted to fifty and tried to look as calm as humanly possible as he sat down at his desk. He had three days until his little secret started to make it's way into the light of day.

Three days.

On Thanksgiving morning, Evan found himself standing in his bedroom, staring at the bed, the dresser, the walls. He hadn't spent much time here in the past thirteen months. Couldn't bear to see Sherri's things— her perfume and makeup on the dressing table, jewelry box on the dresser. Nothing had been moved or put away. He couldn't bear to take that final step, to fully acknowledge that she wasn't coming back. Her life was over, but his still existed.

He pulled a heavy black sweater over his head, knew his jeans would annoy his mother-in-law and knew he would enjoy that. He could hear the kids banging around downstairs, as the Macy's Day Parade blared in the background. Oh good. Another marching band playing “Jingle Bells.” The hint of Christmas made his stomach hurt. Last year they had pretty much let it slide— a small tree, a few toys for the kids. They'd spent most of the time at Sherri's parents, subdued. Evan had still been in a daze— it was only about two months after they'd buried Sherri— and couldn't do much more than sit on the couch and stare at the fireplace. Avoiding the mantel, so he wouldn't have to see Sherri, from birth through adulthood, her smiling face burning his eyes.

This year though... he wanted it to better. He wanted his kids to keep having good times, so they'd remember happy moments of their childhood. As hard as it would be, he would do it all— the big tree, the trimmings, the decorations, the flood of presents. Evan desperately wanted to hear his children laughing and shrieking with delight, opening their gifts on Christmas morning.

And he realized that in his mind's eye, imagining that happy moment, he could see Matt Haight sitting there, amid the chaos, smiling.

It made him a little dizzy.

“Hey Dad!” Kathleen's shouting woke him from his little reverie. “Dad?”

“Coming,” he called.

Evan grabbed his watch and wedding ring off the dresser and moved toward the stairs. He wanted a beautiful family Christmas. And he wanted to share that with Matt.

Six hours of the MacGregors tested every molecule of Evan's patience and stoic nature. Phil smoked at least nine cigars, complained about everything from the mayor to the subways (which he hadn't been on in seventeen years) to the goddamn Jets. Every time Evan tried to participate in the conversation, Phil would change the subject and launch into another tirade. This Evan was used to— used to the rambles— but the steady stream of scotch that Phil was consuming was something new. He knew that Phil had been devastated by Sherri's death— she was his favorite— but he hadn't realized he was drinking his pain away. It made Evan tense up, because he knew he had been doing the same thing.

Elena spent most of her time on the phone in her old room. She occasionally came out to help her mother, but to Evan she seemed distant and worn out. He wanted to ask her what was wrong but she never seemed to sit still long enough for them to talk.

Josie fussed over the children nonstop. She fed them from the moment they walked through the door, right up until dinner. He could see they were practically drunk on food and knew it would be a quiet ride home— they'd all be unconscious. When she had all the kids chewing at the same time, she turned her attention to Evan.

He was offered every kind of food known to man, twice, and the third time Josie came out with a plate of fruit, cheese, and bread Evan caved and took it from her. She seemed relieved, as if she couldn't imagine what to do with someone who wouldn't eat.

It took him almost an hour to get through the whole plate. He chewed mechanically, listening to Phil's slurred litany of complaints, heard Josie's endless fussing from the kitchen. A football game played on the big screen TV. His stomach clenched hard. He wanted some of Phil's scotch.

The children eased the tension during dinner. They all competed to tell their grandparents stories about school, about sports; they threw out ideas for Christmas presents, charming and adorable, knowing they'd get whatever they mentioned.

Evan was able to keep quiet, choke down his plate full of food. Trying to figure out if this was hell because Sherri wasn't here or if he just hadn't noticed before. He'd thought her family was perfect, simply because he had nothing to measure it against.

As the meal wound down, the kids got fidgety and Evan couldn't keep his eyes off the clock.

“Uh, guys— are you almost done? Remember, we have to get home. There's company coming.”

Josie began clearing the table. “I can't believe you have to leave so early!”

Evan gave his kids the “father look” and they got up, started stacking plates and putting things in the kitchen for cleaning. He did the same.

“Josie, I have a few friends from work who don't have families in town— I wanted to give them a place to be today.”

Josie made a sniffing sound and carried a stack of plates into the kitchen. Phil reached for the bottle of scotch, ever present at his side; Elena murmured an excuse and disappeared again. Sighing, Evan stole another glance at the clock. It was three thirty— if he could just get out of there by four... He didn't want Matt standing on his doorstep alone.

They were on the road by four and Evan was only partially right— Danny and Kathleen dozed off, leaving Miranda to fiddle with the radio stations nonstop and Elizabeth to chatter happily about the next few days they'd have together, Christmas. Evan felt such overwhelming pleasure at hearing her sweet little voice, planning and enthusing... and he realized that Sherri wasn't gone completely. Elizabeth was her echo. It comforted him.