Smoky Mountain Dreams (27 page)

He said to Will cheerfully, “What are we doing now, Noodle
Champ?”

Will grinned at him. “Floats. Sit down. Make one with us.”

Brigid, Jesse noticed, shot her brother a dirty look.
Apparently his explanation that Christopher was a man he was becoming very good
friends with hadn’t been enough for her to forget the way they’d been almost
embracing when she came into his studio earlier. Though, come to think of it,
she’d been hostile to Christopher from almost the beginning.

Jesse asked, “Chris, do you like chocolate, cookies-n-cream,
mint fudge, vanilla—”

“Boring!” Will interrupted

“Orange sherbet, rainbow sherbet, or…um, butter pecan?”

“That’s quite the selection,” Christopher said, his eyes
wide and laughter tumbling from his mouth—God, his pretty, sweet, lovely mouth
that had been so warm and wet and gentle—and
stop
,
now was not the time.

“Floats are super serious,” Will said, throwing back the lid
of the chocolate ice cream and digging in with a scoop. “You have to have all
kinds of ice cream because you never know just what’s gonna float your boat.
Get it? Float. Your boat.”

“Your brother is adorable,” Charity said.

Brigid rolled her eyes. “He’s embarrassing.”

“He’s sweeter than my little brother,” Meredith said,
shoveling into the mint fudge.

“You can have him then.”

“Yeah, Meredith, you can have me,” Will said, batting his
eyes and then winking at her. “I’ll be your boyfriend.”

“Ugh,” Meredith said. “I take it back.”

“Told you.” Brigid shook her head.

Christopher sat between Will and Frankie-Jones, taking the
chocolate when Will was done. He started to scoop it into the glass next to
him.

Will put his hand on Christopher’s wrist. “Whoa, dude. Hold
on. Are you sure that’s what you want to do? You don’t want to, like, swirl
some together?” He indicated where he was now heaping some rainbow sherbet in
with his chocolate in the bowl, and started stirring them. “You mix ‘em up and
then
put them in the glass, and
then
put the Coke or whatever in.”

“Oh, um, I’ll just stick to the boring way,” Christopher
said. “If that’s okay.”

“Sure, dude, whatever you like best,” Frankie-Jones said,
but it was clear by the look Will and FJ exchanged they were less than
impressed with Christopher’s lack of adventure.

It cracked Jesse up and he opened another drawer for some
hand towels and cloth napkins, tossing them onto the table.

“What about you?” Christopher asked Jesse. “Are you going to
make a float?”

“Yeah. I make the most boring kind of all. Vanilla and Coke.”

“Mom used to make mint fudge and Sprite,” Brigid said,
narrowing her eyes at Christopher. “She was never boring.”

Shit.
Jesse had to admit to
himself that Brigid suspected something. If things were going to continue with
Christopher, he was going to have to be honest with her. Soon.

Then it happened.

Jesse wasn’t sure who did it. The chances were good that it
was Will or Frankie-Jones, but it could have been Charity. A cola bottle tipped
and spilled all over the table, ruining the six origami cranes he and Brigid
had made earlier. It shouldn’t have been a big deal, but all of a sudden it
was.

“You did it on purpose!” Brigid yelled, her usually pale
face flushed red and her eyes almost black with rage.

Jesse was just about to scold her for blaming her brother
for a simple accident when he realized that she wasn’t talking to Will. She was
screaming at Christopher.

“You ruined them! You poured Coke on them and ruined them!”

Christopher was startled, no doubt about that, but he put
his hands out to Brigid. “I’m sorry. I have no idea how it happened. I’ll help
you make more.”

“No, you
won’t
!” she jumped to
her feet and pointed at the door. “Because I want you
out
.
Get
out!
”

Jesse slapped a hand towel on the table with a loud whap,
anger and a little humiliation pumping through him as he pointed his own finger
at the door and said to his daughter, “Go up to your room. Now. Wait there
until I come to talk to you.”

The other kids mouths were gaping, and Christopher’s eyes
were wide and his lips parted in shock. But Brigid seemed to think that if she
was going to get in trouble, she’d get in trouble for something good because
she turned on Christopher, bent over his float, and spit in it before stomping
out of the room and up the stairs.

“Holy-moly,” Frankie-Jones whispered.

Will just stared after her open-mouthed, and the other two
girls were squealing “Oh my God!”

“Kids,” Jesse said. “Down to the basement. Take your floats.
Don’t make a mess with them. Watch TV or play a game. Things will be fine.”

The children left, all of them whispering excitedly as they
clomped down to the basement. Jesse looked back at Christopher, who sat staring
into his float with an expression of shock. But there was something else
underneath it too.

“Holy shit,” Christopher whispered, laughter edging his
words. “I think she hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you. She doesn’t even know you.”

“Nope. She hates me.” Christopher started laughing, but
there was no way to escape the confounded woundedness behind his eyes. “I don’t
get that a lot to be honest. Most people…like me.”

“She’s confused. I shouldn’t—” Jesse stopped midsentence. He
shouldn’t have what? Invited Christopher here? Introduced him to his children? “She’s
confused about why you’re here, I guess. I’m so sorry.”

“Does she…know?”

“I told her we’re becoming good friends.”

“No, I mean does she know that you’re bi?”

“Oh.” Jesse stopped mopping up the spilled soda and stared
into the air. Did she? Maybe she did. He wasn’t sure. “It’s not something you
really talk to your kids about until you need to, but I guess I’ve told her
enough. She knows the facts of life. I told her about homosexuality, of course,
and mentioned that some people liked both men and women. Told her that her
grandfather Tim and I are both people like that. But I don’t know if she really
understood it.”

Christopher nodded. “And Will?”

“I told him too, but I’m not sure he even listened past the
point of ‘ew, gross, you do
what
to make a baby?’ I’m
going to have to refresh him on a lot of stuff as he gets older.”

“Good times,” Christopher murmured. He grabbed another
towel. “Here, let me help you. Where’s the cleanser?”

Jesse handed over the bottle from under the sink. “You don’t
need to help.”

“I know, but I want to. Tell you what, I’ll do this and put
these bowls and things in the dishwasher. The ice cream in the freezer and
colas go in the fridge?”

Jesse nodded.

“Okay. You go deal with Brigid. When I’m done I’ll let
myself out.”

“I don’t want you to go.”

Christopher stopped spraying the kitchen table and smiled at
Jesse. “And I don’t really want to leave, but if she’s ever going to like me,
then I have to respect her now. And as my Gran would say, when it comes to
kids, patience isn’t just a virtue, it’s a necessity.”

Jesse felt his throat grow tight as he watched Christopher
bend his head and get back to cleaning up the mess. He didn’t even know why. It
wasn’t because he was leaving, though that was not how Jesse had hoped the
evening would go, but because he was being so generous with Brigid.

“I’m sorry, Christopher. It’s not okay for her to treat you
that way.”

“No, but she won’t when she understands. At least, I hope
she won’t.” Christopher looked thoughtful as he stopped wiping the table and
consulted the ceiling. “Some things don’t come easy, you know? And sometimes
things are never perfect. It’s like one of my songs. Just never quite good
enough—never quite right. I don’t want that to be the way it is with Brigid and
me.”

“Your songs are beautiful.”

“And
you
want in my pants.”

Jesse shook his head. “You know that’s not why I like them.”

Christopher nodded, his eyes back on the table now. “I know.
It’s been a good night. Let’s just…have another good night on another day?” He
looked up like he wasn’t sure Jesse wanted that too.

“When can I see you?”

“Text me.”

Jesse watched him a few seconds longer and headed up to deal
with his daughter. He took deep breaths, determined to stay calm, but equally
determined to also make himself clear: her behavior was unacceptable and there
would be consequences.

When Christopher finished putting everything right in
the kitchen, he sat at the table. He was rusty, but he still remembered what to
do. Drifting through the floorboards and ceiling was Brigid’s voice, high-pitched,
pleading, and Jesse’s heavier tones, authoritative and uncompromising. They’d
been talking for a while, and Christopher hoped Jesse was making progress.
Because if he didn’t…

Jesse had to put his kids first, and Christopher wouldn’t
want it any other way. No question. He was okay with being second choice, but
still, his heart damn near broke at the thought of not seeing Jesse anymore.
How had he gotten so attached so quickly? What if…
no.
There
was no point in going down that road. He could hear Gran singing softly in his
mind as he bent his head to his task.

Que sera, sera…

Six origami cranes later, Christopher wrote a note on
another square sheet of paper from a stack he’d found on the counter.

Dear Brigid,

I’m sorry six of your cranes got messed
up. I know they’re very important to you. So I made these with the intention
that they go toward whatever it is you’re wishing for. I hope we can be friends
one day. And if we can’t, that’s okay too. I’ll always wish for all of your
dreams to come true.

Sincerely,
Christopher

C
ADES
COVE, THE FLAT VALLEY
between the two ridgelines including Thunderhead
Mountain and Gregory Bald, was nearly devoid of tourists, though the weather
wasn’t terribly bad. It was late in the day and the sky was typically
autumnal—overcast with the sun peeking out occasionally— not the brilliant blue
of summer, but Jesse thought it was beautiful.

The cove stretched for five miles and was completely hemmed
in by mountains. The fields and creeks served as a refuge for deer, bear, and
wild turkeys. The autumn leaves on the mountains were well past their prime but
a remarkable palette of rich autumn color continued in the lowest elevations
and in the hidden parts of the cove, providing interest alongside the
evergreens.

As always, the mountains held a mysterious beauty, and Jesse
and Christopher were quiet as they drove around the cove’s loop. Marcy had
always loved Cades Cove, and when Jesse had seen her earlier that day, leaving
the usual flowers and checking in on her care, he’d told her about his plans. “Do
you think it’s too much?” he’d asked. And then, contradicting himself, “It’s
been a month now. Is an evening picnic romantic enough?”

Of course she’d met his commentary with flat eyes and no
change of expression. Now Jesse pulled the car into a small gravel parking area
near the place he’d taken Hope on their ill-fated date. He sincerely hoped this
date would fare better.

Christopher unbuckled his seat belt, looked out at the
mountains, and whistled low. “That’s a gorgeous view right there, don’t you
think?”

“It’s why I chose it.”

“You have excellent taste, good sir.” Christopher grinned
and opened the passenger door, climbing out. He stretched, lifting his hands
way above his head, and from where Jesse still sat in the car, he watched
Christopher’s shirt ride up, exposing the line of dark blond hair under his
navel that disappeared beneath his pants.