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I thought all Friday, leaving the house before Monroe was up. I thought at Blessed Bean for chai and a muffin, on the drive up the hills to the fancy house we were doing a kitchen refresh for, back down into town for a lunch break, and all damn afternoon.
“Looking good.” Frank ambled through the side door, gait hampered by the four paint cans he attempted to tote. I rushed forward to take them from him.
“Here, let me help with those.” I didn’t wait for him to agree, taking all four cans and neatly stacking them against the wall.
“Day I can’t carry a couple of cans of paint is the day I pack it in.” Frank frowned, as reluctant to accept assistance as ever, even given his recent health issues. He’d had a heart scare in the spring, spurring a lot of Leon’s retirement plans for the two of them. “Gotta stay useful.”
“Better not let Leon hear you talking like that.” I shook a finger at him. Frank liked to act like he was one foot from the grave, which drove the far more cheerful Leon up the wall.
“That man fusses too much.” The fondness in Frank’s eyes gave him away. With his Measure Twice cap hiding his bald head, his broad and tall stature made him look younger, more like the ox of a guy he’d been when I’d first started working summers for him and Leon. But he’d been retirement age then, which put him well past seventy now.
“Did I hear a grumpy old carpenter complaining about me?” Leon sauntered in, carrying a big box of paint rollers, tape, and drop cloths. Also well past when other men retired, especially in construction, Leon had a full head of bright-white hair and stooped shoulders that had seen more than their share of hard work.
“Hey, Leon.” I took the box from him. Unlike Frank, he happily transferred his load. “I’ll put the supplies over here with the paint.”
“Good job with the demo.” Leon motioned at the kitchen where I’d cleared out the old counters, removed the cabinet doors and hardware for painting, and ripped out all the chipped and worn flooring. “I swear you always do the work of a full crew.”
“Demo is easy. Give me a crowbar and get out of my way.”
“That’s our boy.” Frank clapped me on the shoulder, a rare moment of affection from the big guy, the sort of praise he’d been more generous with this summer than in years past. My throat tightened. I couldn’t ask for two better bosses.
“Well, your boy says you need to let me do more of the heavy stuff.” I gave him a pointed stare before turning back to Leon. “Frank tried to move the fridge on his own earlier.”
Frank scoffed. “Telling tales on me again.”
“You know the doctor would agree with Knox.” Leon poked him in the chest, but Frank was uncowed.
“Doctor, schmocter.”
“Let me work on the paint tomorrow.” I spoke fast to defuse the argument. “You both need the weekend off. Go to the beach or something.”
“Thought you had projects at Henri’s house to get to.” Leon turned a shrewd eye in my direction, seeming to see through my dusty T-shirt and ripped work pants to my bruised heart and troubled thoughts.
“The house stuff can wait.” I waved a hand, continuing quickly before either could press me. “You need a break more. Heck, live it up. See if there’s a B&B at the coast with an opening for tomorrow night.”
“My.” Leon took on an almost dreamy expression before he dabbed at his eyes.
“Did I say the wrong thing?” I reached for his arm, but predictably Frank got there first, pulling Leon close and glaring at me.
“I’m fine. And so is Knox.” Leon shrugged off our attempts to comfort him. “I was just thinking about all the years when the pair of us couldn’t dream of going to a B&B, especially not as easily as clicking around on some site. Or going to the doctor together, for that matter. It’s a different world Knox lives in. He and all the baby queers coming up won’t know the heart palpitations over something as simple as sleeping arrangements at a nice B&B.”
“Roommates.” Frank snorted, and Leon nodded.
“Exactly. We were roommates for so many years, hiding behind the business partnership, and sometimes I forget we can be anything else.”
“But you’ve got the rings…” I gestured at their left hands.
“Courthouse wedding.” Leon gave a wistful shrug. “Felt more like political rebellion or insurance policy for the health care stuff.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be the romantic one?” Frank nudged his bony shoulder.
“Sorry. You know I…care.”
“It’s Knox. You can tell him you love me.” Frank rolled his eyes at Leon, and the weight of those words, the ones on my mind all damn day, smacked me in the chest. Not everyone got the luxury to say them aloud. Not everyone had someone to love, and not everyone who deserved it had someone to love them back. And here I was, terrified because Monroe had blurted out the words and refused to take them back.
