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“So what’s Bill like?” Keith asked. Michael didn’t talk about him much, and that was a red flag right there. Michael was a talker.
“He’s okay,” he said with a shrug.
“You don’t sound sure about that.”
“He’s been around ever since Dad died, you know? I never even knew he was interested in my mom until last year. And then suddenly they’re dating.”
“You don’t like him?” That was the vibe Keith was getting, and he hoped his instincts were off.
“It’s more that I’m not sure of myself around him.”
Keith frowned. “What does that mean?” Michael went quiet, and a shiver trickled through Keith. “Hey, what’s up?”
“I...I can’t talk about it here. It’s a conversation for when we’re someplace warm, okay? Maybe with hot chocolate?”
Despite his misgivings, Keith grinned. “I knew hot chocolate would figure in there somewhere. Sure. I don’t want to stay out in this temperature for longer than I need to.” He waggled his eyebrows. “I might catch cold, right?”
Michael chuckled, and they picked up speed.
By the time they turned onto Anderson Street West, Keith was more than ready for a little heat.
I am so lucky.
Compared to Michael’s family life, his was idyllic. His parents were really cool, and even though his sisters aggravated the hell out of him, he knew he’d do anything for them, and vice versa. He couldn’t imagine losing either of his parents. Maybe that was why he’d made sure he’d been there for Michael the last few years. They’d known each other since second grade, went through middle school, high school...
Keith couldn’t wish for a better friend.
Which was why he wasn’t about to ruin that friendship by opening his big fat mouth.
They reached the house, and Keith followed Michael up the reddish-brown slabbed path to the gleaming black front door, stark against the white cedar shakes and black shutters. They went inside, and out of habit Keith toed off his boots. Michael walked into the kitchen.
The stillness and peace of the house was so welcome after the cacophony Keith had left behind that morning. Three fat medium-sized pumpkins sat on the countertop, along with a kitchen knife, and he went over to them.
“Have you had any ideas?”
“Not so far. Why’d you think I was gonna call you?” Michael stopped mid task and left the room. “Let me find you some paper,” he called back.
Keith pulled out a stool from under the breakfast bar and perched on it. He always liked being in Michael’s kitchen. It was such a light room, in warm tones that reminded him of summer. Outside, the sky was heavy with clouds.
I hope the snow holds off until after Halloween.
Michael came back into the kitchen, carrying a paper pad and a pencil. “Tell me you’ve been inspired.”
Keith laughed. “You were gone less than a minute.” He did have one idea, though. “There was a movie on last week, Sinbad and... something. But there was this really cool monster on there, a cyclops. Huge thing with hooves, a horn sticking out of its forehead, and one eye. That might work. We couldn’t do the horn, but...” He grabbed the pencil and drew a quick sketch of the design. Michael stood beside him, staring as the hideous face emerged.
“That is so cool.”
Keith coughed. “Hey, you promised me hot chocolate.”
Michael chuckled. “Okay, okay.” He went over to the countertop and reached into the cabinet.
Keith waited a moment before launching into their previous conversation. “You were saying? About Bill?”
This time there was no mistaking Michael’s reaction. His back stiffened.
“It’s okay,” Keith said quickly, backpedaling. “You don’t have to tell me. But if you ever want to talk, you know where I am.” He managed a smile. “God knows there are things I find difficult to talk about too.”
Namely, you. And how I feel about you.
