rather do.
* * * *
The baby grand piano in the living room had been covered with tarps for weeks
because of all the construction on the first floor. But now that the kitchen was finished
and the floors had all been sanded and refinished, there was no need to keep it covered
anymore. The walls hadn’t been painted yet, but Ed could always put a sheet over the
piano. Ed had decided to paint all the walls in the house bright white to complement all
the rich walnut doors and trim. He’d collected a great deal of art over the years; his taste
leaned toward Andrew Wyeth’s works, and the style of the Hudson River School. But he
had a few abstracts, too. One of his favorites, a large modern dated 1971, was by a New
York artist named Neil Loeb. Ed decided on white walls, because didn’t want any garish colors fighting with good paintings. He also wanted to keep things simple and
monochromatic.
When he pulled the tarps off the piano, he decided to polish it with Butchers Wax.
And by the time he was finished, Noah and Lisa stormed through the back door,
screaming his name. They were late. It was after eight thirty. Tucker was with them. He
ran to Ed first, wagging his tail, then did a full inspection of the house. He sniffed every
viable surface, taking in the scents of the camera crew and the construction workers,
trying to find out what he’d been missing over at the guest house.
A few minutes after that, Jonathan knocked on the back door and stepped into the
kitchen. His dark brown hair was still damp from the shower, and he was wearing a light
green V-neck T-shirt and baggy tan cargo pants. He was carrying a box of doughnuts
from a small bakery not far from the house, and two white grocery bags from a gourmet
store on the other side of town. Ed was helping Lisa make coffee and Noah was in the
living room placing his music sheets on the piano. Tucker ran to Jonathan first. He
jumped up and licked his face. He got so excited when he saw him, he actually had a
small choking attack.
Jonathan lifted his arms so Tucker wouldn’t get the food, and Ed shouted, “Down,
Tucker.” Then Ed ran to Jonathan and took the box and the bags from his hands. “Leave
him alone,” he scolded the dog. “You just saw him last night.”
Lisa said, “I don’t blame Tucker. When I see Jonathan, I want to wag my tail and
lick him too.” She put down a bag of coffee and ran over to kiss him on the cheek. Ed felt an unusual pang of jealousy. He knew she wasn’t serious, but it made his
stomach jump. He smiled at Lisa and said, “Sounds like you need a date. How long has it
been?”
“How long has it been for
you
?” she shot back.
Ed wasn’t sure whether she was testing him about Jonathan or not. She had
excellent intuition, and when she suspected a romance, she was usually right. So he
backed down and said, “We’re probably even.”
Jonathan stood there in the doorway, rocking on the balls of his feet, looking
awkward. He put his hands in his pockets and said, “I wasn’t sure what to buy, so I
bought a little bit of everything. There are doughnuts, muffins and bagels. And I stopped
and picked up some cream and sugar for coffee and a few other things, like jam and
butter and cream cheese. I picked up some juice and milk and cereal, too. I figured the
refrigerator was empty, and there are
two
growing boys in this house.”
Lisa pulled a container of milk from the bag. She laughed and said, “You’re
finally starting to figure Ed out,” she said. “He’s just a big boy.”
Ed ignored Lisa. He stared at Jonathan and said, “Well, thank you. I actually do
like a glass of milk in the morning. I haven’t had it for a while.” He didn’t mention this
aloud, but it made him think about Jake. Jake had always made sure there was fresh milk
in the house even though he’d never touched it himself.
Lisa smiled, then gave Ed a look. “The refrigerator is always empty around here.
Ed hates going to the grocery store. It freaks him out.”
Ed shrugged his shoulders. “It doesn’t freak me out. I just hate those places, and I
hate waiting in line. But I know how to manage and Noah will never go hungry as long as I know how to order from a menu.” Jake had always been the one who did all the grocery
shopping, and after he’d died, Ed had to figure out how to do it alone. Ed looked at Lisa
and said, “Besides, when was the last time you used your oven?” She was just as bad as
he was when it came to keeping a kitchen well stocked. In the past year, Noah had eaten
at all the best restaurants in town, but the only home-cooked meal he’d had was
Thanksgiving dinner at Frank and Greg’s.
Lisa pulled out a container of whipped cream cheese and smiled. “I guess we’re
both pretty bad when it comes to domestic things.” She shook her head and said, “Poor
Noah. He’ll wind up marrying the first woman who bakes him a pie.”
When Noah crossed through the kitchen door and saw Lisa pulling all the food
out of the bags and placing them on the black granite countertop, he said, “Dad, look. It’s
real food. I’m starved.” He ran to the cereal box and lifted it from the counter. His eyes
glazed over and he sucked in his bottom lip. Then he turned to Jonathan and said, “This is
my favorite cereal. My dad used to buy it all the time back in New York.”
He was talking about Jake, not Ed.
“It was just a lucky guess,” Jonathan said.
Ed put his hands on his hips and shook his head. “I’ll go to the garage to locate
some bowls and dishes and some silverware,” he said.
All they had were mugs. The kitchen remodel was finished, but he hadn’t had
time to put everything back where it belonged. It still looked and felt more like a
showroom than a real kitchen. On his way out, he turned toward Jonathan and said,
“Unless you brought those, too.” He was being sarcastic on purpose. Everything Jonathan did always came out so damn perfect. If Ed could have found at least one flaw in him, it
would have made things so much easier.
“Sorry,” Jonathan said, “the market was all out of bowls and spoons this morning.
But I’ll go out to the garage and help you with the boxes if you like. A man your age
shouldn’t be lifting anything too heavy.”
Lisa poured coffee into a mug and smiled. “I like that, Jonathan,” she said, “You
can be a real smart ass when you want to be.”
Ed scratched the top of his head and smiled even wider. Evidently, Jonathan could
be just as sarcastic as Ed could be, and he wanted Ed to know it. “No. I’ll be fine. The old
man can still manage.”
But Jonathan wasn’t finished with him yet. On his way out to the garage, Jonathan
shouted, “Did you sleep okay last night, Ed?”
Ed stopped and turned back to face him. His eyes narrowed and focused directly
on Jonathan’s eyes. He folded his arms across his chest and said, “Never better. I actually
slept through the entire night for the first time in over a year.”
Lisa and Noah looked at each other; they knew he hadn’t slept a full night since
before Jake had been killed. Noah smiled and said, “Maybe it was all that Chinese food
we had last night, Dad. We should go there again tonight. I slept good too.”
“
Well
, Noah,” Ed said, “You slept
well
, not good.” He was still staring into
Jonathan’s eyes.
Noah wasn’t paying attention. He’d opened the cereal box and he was digging
inside for a handful.
“Was it the Chinese food?” Jonathan asked. Ed shrugged his shoulders and smiled. “It could have been, but I’m not totally
sure yet.”
Chapter Nine
While Jonathan and Noah rehearsed his song for the school Christmas show, Ed
painted the upstairs hallway white. It was Saturday morning, December twentieth, three
days before the show. Jonathan had been playing the same song for two hours without
stopping longer than five minutes. And Noah had been singing. He was good student, and
he sang well for a ten-year-old. He lifted his head high, took deep breaths through his
diaphragm, and opened his mouth wide so the lyrics wouldn’t sound muffled.
Ed came jogging down the stairs wearing the baggy camouflage shorts he’d worn
the first time Jonathan had met him. He had a paintbrush in one hand, a roller in the other,
and there were white paint spatters across his right cheek. He looked cute, Jonathan
thought. He’d been laboring all week on the house along with the other workers because
he wanted to celebrate Christmas Day there. The second floor was still a mess and the
bathrooms weren’t finished. But the first floor was ready to at least host Christmas dinner.
Most of the furniture and art was still in storage, but the kitchen was ready, the floors
were finished, and the walls had been painted.
Ed’s new dining room furniture had been delivered Friday afternoon. It was a
heavy, dark Jacobean table that sat fourteen people comfortably, with large hand-carved
chairs upholstered in antique Spanish tapestry. Ed had originally wanted a modern glass
table, then changed his mind when Jonathan showed him a photo in
Architectural Digest
of a celebrity home in the Hollywood Hills just like his with a more traditional look.
As he passed through to the kitchen, Ed shouted, “I’m going to clean up now, and
we’ll leave in a few minutes, Noah.” “Okay, Dad,” Noah said. He turned to Jonathan and asked, “How was I? Do you
think I’m ready for the show?” His eyebrows were furrowed and his lips pinched together.
“You were great,” Jonathan said. “I think we’ve rehearsed enough for today. You
get Tucker’s leash and take him out so you’ll be ready by the time your dad is cleaned
up.”
They were going out to buy a Christmas tree that afternoon, and Jonathan and
Lisa were going Christmas shopping and stopping at the airport to pick up Jonathan’s
friend, Joel. Joel was passing through San Francisco on his way to a business trip in the
Orient. He was only staying over one night, and he’d made plans to take Jonathan out to
dinner.
“Can we practice again tomorrow?” Noah asked.
“Of course,” Jonathan said. “We’ll go over this song every day after school this
week until the day of the show.” Then he stood from the piano and patted him on the
back. “So stop worrying. You’re gonna be great.”
Noah smiled and slapped his thigh a couple of times. Tucker stood up and crossed
to the piano. “C’mon, boy,” he said to the dog. “We’re going out for a walk, and then
we’re going to get a Christmas tree.”
When Noah said they were going out, Tucker got so excited and wagged his tail
so hard, his entire hindquarters moved back and forth.
Noah hooked his leash to his collar and walked to the back of the house. Then
Jonathan went into the kitchen, where Ed was washing his hands and his arms with
dishwashing detergent and a kitchen towel. Jonathan frowned when he saw the water
splashes all over the granite counter, and he shook his head when he saw Ed wiping paint from his hands with a good dish towel. “I probably would have used the powder room,”
he said. “It’s more sanitary. And that dishwashing detergent is too harsh for your hands.”
Ed shrugged his shoulders and rubbed a splotch of white paint from his wrist.
“It’s all the same,” he said, “A sink is a sink. Soap is soap. Besides, I hate to mess up the
powder room. It looks so good.”
Jonathan smiled and crossed to the kitchen sink. Ed was probably right. He would
have messed the entire powder room up with splashes and paint. And it was one of
Jonathan’s favorite rooms in the house. Ed had decided on black marble, from floor to
ceiling, with a black pedestal sink, a black toilet, and rock crystal wall sconces dripping
in gilt. The finished result looked like a jewel box. He took the wet dish towel from Ed’s
hand and said, “Here, stand still.” Then he gently rubbed the white paint off Ed’s cheek.
“I didn’t know I had paint on my face,” Ed said.
His strokes were gentle, as if he were rubbing paint off Ed’s penis. He did it on
purpose for two reasons: he didn’t want to hurt his skin, and he wanted to see if he could
get him aroused this way.
Without turning his head, Ed’s eyes moved to the right so he could look out the
window. Noah was in the back yard with Tucker running in circles, so Ed reached down
and grabbed Jonathan’s ass. He squeezed it a few times and said, “If you keep rubbing
my face this way, my dick is going to pop out of my pants.”
Jonathan smiled and grabbed his erection through the fabric of his shorts. He