“Yes. Yes, we do.” And for the first time, he heard a softening, some humanity, in that sharp female voice.
“Okay, well, that’s good. But I need you to tell me what you think she’s missing out on.”
“They don’t take that girl to church.” Ooh, she sounded sort of smug on that one.
“Well, I hate to break it to you, but I don’t go to church a lot either. My parents go, but I’m out of the country a lot. That doesn’t mean I don’t worship in other ways, you know. Have you ever seen the sunset in the Amazon? That’ll make you believe in the Divine. I mean, the forest has been really depleted—that’s why I’m there, you know.”
“I, uh, no. I didn’t know. Why are you in the Amazon?”
Okay, this was better. No defensiveness. No anger. That was one of the problems with talking to your own family sometimes. The things that made you love them also made you want to throttle them.
“I’m an environmentalist. Our atmosphere has been impacted by the fires in the Amazon. I’m sure you’ve felt it.”
“My husband’s asthma is really bad,” she said, a little tearfully. “We worry, you know. All the smog out here, and that little girl’s lungs.”
“Yeah, that’s a shame.” He meant it. Stories like this one made him want to do his job. “I’m sorry to hear that. But Piper’s happy here. She knows she’s loved. Why would you want to pull her away from that?”
“Tim…. Tim’s afraid,” she said, her voice softening. “He’s not sure he’s going to be here for long, you know? And when I get older…. Tenner was supposed to be our comfort in our old age, you know?”
“Well, he still could be,” Ross said, keeping his voice gentle. “Threatening to take away his daughter isn’t going to help that happen.”
“But what am I supposed to do?” she asked. “How do I—how do I make him my son again?”
“You have to love him for himself. Don’t you see?” Ross fought to keep impatience from threatening. “He’s… he’s such a good man. He’s such a good father. How could you not love him like he is?”
“But what he’s doing is wrong!” And Ross had her. Because she was desperate, and because this was the part when people usually recognized they were parroting something they didn’t understand.
“What’s he doing that’s wrong?” Ross asked, waving away Tenner’s outraged look. “Be specific.”
“He’s sleeping with a man!” He loved the way she said that, like Ross wasn’t the man in bed with him.
“Except we’re not really sleeping right now, ma’am. We’re having this delightful conversation. And so far, you seem to think I’m okay.”
She started to sputter, and he thought that was a start—and more than enough for the evening.
“I’m going to hang up now, okay? You must be exhausted, and I know I need my sleep. Now let’s not hear any more talk about kidnapping children and calling police, okay? Can I get your promise on that? You’re hurting Tenner’s feelings in a thousand ways. Do you want to do that to your son? Hurt him like that? Because we seemed to be getting along so well.”
“I don’t want to hurt him,” she said softly.
“Well, good. How about you send him a letter when you and the mister get home. I’m sure this whole thing will be much easier to resolve using good old-fashioned pen and paper. What do you think?”
“But the girl—”
“Is very happy. And no lawyer in the world is going to take your money to take her from her parents. And if you try it, you’ll be criminals. Do you understand, ma’am?”
“Yessir.”
“That’s a girl. So I’m going to say good night, okay?”
“Good night.”
“Good night, sweetheart. Let Tenner know when you get home safely, okay?”
“Okay?”
“Good.”
Ross hit End Call and sagged against the pillows before Tenner took the phone from his hands.
“That was…. That was amazing,” Tenner said, setting the phone in the charger. “Oh my God. Ross. You’re like… like magical. You’re a lion with wings or something. How did you do that?”
Ross yawned and went back to burying his face against Tenner’s neck, which had become his favorite way to sleep.
“Nobody agrees on what my job should be,” he said on another yawn. “Nobody. And people pull God into it, and big oil and stupidly bad ideas about economic theory. And I don’t want to be a politician. I really fucking don’t. But I gotta explain to people that they’re stone-cold wrong without pissing them off. It’s a job skill.”
Tenner reached to switch off the lamp again, and Ross pulled him back as soon as darkness fell.
“It’s a you skill, sweetheart,” he said throatily. “You. Nobody else in the world could do that. Only you.”
“Keep saying sweet stuff like that,” Ross mumbled. “You never know when it’s gonna get you laid.”
Tenner chuckled, and Ross sank halfway to sleep.
“Night, Ten.”
“Night, Ross. I love you.”
“Love you too.”
He didn’t even realize what they’d said until he woke up in the morning. And by then, the words had settled into their skin, like they’d always been.
How to Always Be
REAL LIFE had to intervene sometime. Ross had needed to leave early the next morning for work, and had called Tenner at the office to… well, to see if he was okay, mostly.
“You get enough sleep?” he said over the phone, and Tenner pictured him as he’d been that morning, rumpled and shy and vulnerable.
Those words—hopeful, damning words—hovered over both of them like shady rain clouds after a scorching desert summer. The blessed life-giving rain threatened, but they needed to raise their arms and their faces to welcome it.
“Not so much,” Tenner admitted, yawning. He set his computer to rest mode and stood up, stretching. Pat was very pro on a short stretching break every forty-five minutes or so, and doing it while on the phone was the ultimate in multitasking. And for some reason today his body felt extra, extra achy. “You?”
“Slept like a baby, just not for long enough,” Ross said, yawning back. “Do you want me over tonight—”
“Yes,” Tenner said before he could think. “I mean, shit. I have to work late, and if you need to sleep….”
“I should see Pat’s kids,” Ross admitted. “There were certain promises made about my time here this go-round. You go ahead and work late. I’ll see you Wednesday.”
“Uhm….” I want you. I want to sleep next to you. I want to talk to you over dinner even if it’s about traffic or work or the weather. “I… uh….” The silence on the other end of the line was deafening. “I meant it. Last night. Don’t stay away because you’re afraid I’ll take it back.” Good. I said it. Sort of.
Ross’s laugh was soft and only a little bitter. “I love you too, Ten. I said it too, remember?”