CARTER'S DUTY: WILLIAM CARTER
III
Chapter 11 - By Christopher Patrick Lydon
June 9th 2003
It was much later when Will finally had Andrew alone. The older
Sternostis had retired to bed leaving the younger ones to their own devices.
Will rested on the pristinely-cleaned kitchen countertop and sighed. It had
been a long, trying day, and the next was just going to be brutal.
He looked exhaustedly over at Andrew and smiled tiredly. Jeff
had gone home and the house actually felt calm. Jeff's two younger brothers
had laid claim to the X-box and the wonder of Halo and his sister, Maria,
was taking a shower upstairs. For the moment it was just the two of them.
"All fun and games around here," Will observed with
a roguish smile, "I'm sorry about this."
Andrew, sitting at the kitchen table looked up from his textbooks,
"Hey, I understand, it's not your fault or anything."
Will smiled, "No I mean it, thanks for understanding, you're
being so calm about all of this."
Andrew took off his reading glasses, "Hey, it was only
dinner, it's not the first time we have had to change our plans because something's
come up, and it won't be the last. Just remember this the next time I cancel
because I have to study."
Will chuckled as he crossed to the table and sat down; he suddenly
felt uneasy about the conversation he had to have. "Jeff's parents don't
know," he said, his voice dropping.
Andrew let out a heavy breath as he put his pen aside, "Great,
so now we're back to pretending to be straight?"
Will's face fell, "I know, I'm sorry..."
Andrew closed his book and ran a hand through his hair, "I
mean, come on, it's bad enough we have to pretend when my mum's down, now
I have to deal with Jeff's parents as well?"
"Jeff didn't warn them when they got here, they're old-fashioned..."
Will realized he was pleading for something he didn't want himself, but he
had no choice.
They should be used to hiding, but the point was they shouldn't
have to. It was one thing not to be open about sexuality at work, Will managed
over a hundred people and worked for one of the most bigoted individuals on
the planet, a man who honestly believed in the inherent evil of an expression
of love.
They couldn't all be as accepting as Andrew's mother.
Will had only experienced Andrew's mother "Hurricane Micheline"
once since getting back from university, when she had touched down in town
on a surprise visit. The formidable force of nature had left a lasting impression
upon Will, now he required warning when she was in town, so that he would
be out of it. There was an old saying; `the hand that rocked the cradle rules
the world.' This was certainly the case with Micheline Highmore. There was
no contesting her, or even the faint hope of compromise; it was her way or
none at all. She had a set vision for Andrew's future, her `plausible' plan,
and Will was certain she had factored him into that plan. There was nothing
like a mother in law to turn life upside down.
No, there was a good reason to keep his sexuality from the people
at work where being gay was the punchline to a joke, but to ask Andrew to
do the same now was too much. It was hypocritical of him to do so, after all
they had been through together just to be open about their relationship in
the first place.
"Look," Will tried again, "it's only for a couple
of days, then we can get back to normal." He leaned his head down to
look into Andrew's eyes, but Andrew refused to respond, choosing to look away.
"This really sucks," Andrew finally said after a moment.
"Just to please someone else. They're our guests."
"I know," Will replied, "I'll make it up to you,
I promise."
Andrew's eyes flicked up to Will's at last, "Yeah, you
owe me for this one."
Will gently bit his lip, managing a tight smile, "I'll
take you to a Sen's game."
"It's the playoffs," Andrew replied, speaking a language
that Will barely recognized as English. "You'll never get tickets."
"They're playing tomorrow, right?" Will asked.
"Yeah, game six of the series." Andrew responded.
"All right, I'll see what I can manage."
Andrew shook his head. "Don't we have the rehearsal dinner
to go to tomorrow night?"
"We'll go to game seven, then," Will said hopefully.
"Wedding's that night," Andrew said, pushing back
his chair and walking over to the sink.
"Game eight, then." Will pressed, still trying.
"There is no game eight." Andrew replied, running
a tap. "Look you don't have to do that. I'll be ok, we'll get through
this."
Will rested his head on his hands, staring at the wall, "Yeah,
I suppose."
It was depressing; Will tried his hardest, but Andrew had slipped
into one of his moods, and as much as Will wanted to, he couldn't fault him
for it. Wedding stress had spilled over into their lives, affecting every
aspect of it. They were being slowly displaced by someone else's life. First
their home, now their relationship was being affected. What was next? It wasn't
right, that they were being affected so drastically.
He turned to speak again, but drew up short at the sight of
what had just entered the kitchen. His jaw dropped open in shock. Andrew turned
and nearly dropped his glass into the sink. His eyes were as wide as dinner
plates.
Maria stood there, towelling off her hair, wearing Andrew's
Sen's hockey jersey and little else, she gave him an apologetic smile.
Her hair had been curled into soft fat ringlets that fell to
the nape of her neck. Maria was blonde; well she was blonde at that moment.
And since she came from an obviously Italian heritage, bleach must have contributed
to its colour. It was cleverly done; Will would never have known had she not
been a brunette earlier. Obviously she used it to her advantage.
She had also been subtle when she had applied her makeup, invisibly
achieved, except that again Will was a gay man, makeup tips were part of the
curriculum. Her eyes were brown, wide and sweetly lacked the guile Will knew
too well lurked there. It was a woman on the prowl giving the illusion of
being the prey.
"I'm sorry," she said, finishing with the towel, "I
had to borrow this shirt, I hope you don't mind..."
"N-not at all." Andrew replied with a pronounced stutter.
Will's eyebrow arched as he caught the scent of vanilla extract
mingled with peroxide. Like everything else about her it was subtle but deliberate.
"Good, I really didn't want to be rude," she crossed
the tiled kitchen floor on tip toes obviously accenting her assets while appearing
like she was avoiding the cold floor. And as she reached past Andrew, up into
the cupboard for a glass, her leg lifted up behind her as she did so. Will
was relieved to note she was wearing underwear. Not that he was looking, but
it was obviously on display.
He glanced up at Andrew, who was still staring transfixed at
the young woman's underwear. His eyes were wide, and his face flushed red
with embarrassment, at least Will hoped.
Will chewed on his lip for a moment; she knew what she was doing.
Girls like that, who knew what they were doing and how to do it without appearing
as anything but innocent, usually got exactly what they wanted. It was a simple
manipulation of genetics; she used her most affective method of attracting
attention. And to Will's annoyance, it appeared to be working.
He cleared his throat as he stood up, breaking her spell on
Andrew as he did so. "Well it's getting late," he observed.
"Yes," she agreed, setting her glass down, "I
was wondering, " she turned to Andrew, "I wanted to take a look
around downtown tomorrow, I could use someone to show me around."
Will's brow furrowed darkly, "Don't you have class tomorrow,
Andrew?" He was beginning to get angry.
"Y-yeah," Andrew managed, his head desperately moving
between the two of them.
"Oh really?" She asked, brightening up, "Where
do you go to school?"
"U of O." he responded, on automatic now.
"Oh," she beamed ecstatically, "I'm thinking
of going there next year! Perhaps you could give me a tour around campus tomorrow?"
Will's jaw locked in frustration, "Now wouldn't that be
fun," he commented dryly.
"Yeah, sure." Andrew replied, smiling back at her.
"Will usually gives me a lift in, could you be ready to go first thing
in the morning?"
"Sure," she declared happily, throwing her arms around
him affectionately, inadvertently dragging the jersey up as she reached around
his neck. She placed a hand on the back of his head, trying subtly to angle
his head downward to see the curve and line of her panties.
What both she and Will missed was Andrew's roll of his eyes
as he stared at Will. But Will had turned his back to the scene busying himself
cleaning the stuff in the sink.
"Thank you so much!" she said, already skipping off
to her makeshift bedroom in the den.
Will turned glared a final time at Andrew before he stalked
off to bed.
Andrew shot a pained look after him, shook his head and returned
to his studying. Carter would get over it once Andrew had a chance to explain.
He tapped his pencil against the edge of the book staring up
at the stairs, Carter was under a lot of pressure and he was moody lately,
Andrew could just write it off as that. But Will getting jealous of a girl,
if his reaction hadn't been so hurt Andrew might have found the situation
funny.
He set the pencil down and leaned back in the chair running
a hand over his chin. He was dating a difficult and stubborn man, and there
were time she wanted to shake Carter for being such a...goof... But that was
part of what made him so loveable.
The job thing bothered him though, Carter was a brilliant teacher
and he had loved it. But to suddenly up and not go on to get a teaching degree,
to quit and manage a telemarketing call center, it didn't make any sense to
Andrew. The place was slowly tearing the spirit out of the man he loved, but
he couldn't just march up the stairs and demand Carter quit. That wasn't his
place, all he could do was support those choices, no matter how much he disagreed
with them.
