CARTER'S SHADOW
Chapter 45 - By Christopher Patrick Lydon
West stood a moment on the doorstep of the house, the tuxedo
feeling heavy on his shoulders, as he nervously tried to steady his resolve.
This was it, his one and only date with Peter, and he was scared to death.
Behind him the engine of the limousine purred; his father had
managed to talk his friend who worked for a hotel into getting the ‘company
car' for the evening and chauffeur his son around on his big night. And West
glanced behind him at the headlights in the driveway, steadying himself and
walking up the steps.
Mister Carter pulled open the door, glancing back into the house
as he smiled, stepping back to let him in. The scruffy-looking Brit with warm
eyes smiled and nodded his greeting. "Mister Harding," he said,
his eyes sweeping over the traditional tuxedo, and the corsage clutched in
the nervous young man's hands, and he smiled. "You look sharp."
"Thank you...sir..." West managed a nervous smile.
Will chuckled, "So I take it I'm supposed to give you the
father's chat about making sure my little sprog is well taken care of tonight,
followed up with a tour of the gun collection and a reassurance that I am
a very good shot?"
"You can't hit the broad side of a barn, literally,"
Lisa chided, coming out of the kitchen and stepping forward. "This is
Wesley?"
West winced, "West, ma'am..."
"Ma'am?" Lisa almost had an apoplexy right there,
she'd never considered herself old enough to be ma'am-ed, let alone by a dashing
young man in a tuxedo intent on taking out one of her friends. "Ma'am?"
she repeated with deadly intent.
"How about you go see if Sprog is ready?" Will said,
taking her arm and guiding her towards the stairs.
"Ma'am... I'll ma'am him..." she grumbled the entire
way.
Will looked back apologetically, "Don't mind her, she's
just a little old..."
Lisa fixed her glare on Will, as she stalked upstairs. Will
stepped back and rolled his eyes--of all the times for Lisa to get upset about
her age. He turned back to West again and stepped forward to straighten the
crooked bow tie on reflex.
"Thank you, sir," West said with a smile, lifting
his chin a bit to let Will fiddle.
"Well at least you had the sense to get a real one,"
Will said looking up at West's eyes, deftly retying the tie properly. "I
take it from Sprog's reaction the other day, you decided to take my father's
offer."
"I never got a chance to say thank you," West said
sincerely, meeting Will's gaze.
Will quirked an eyebrow, "Well if the pink revolution is
to ever take place, I'm going to need a few good men behind me... preferably
not too close."
West laughed at the joke, releasing some of the nervous tension
as Will stepped back from the now perfect tie, "I'm serious, sir, thank
you."
"You can thank me by serving both our countries with honour,"
Will replied, remembering so many of his father's lectures on the subject.
On the cause of duty, and the honour that came with fulfilling one's duty
to Queen and country. And he squared his shoulders, and winked at West, "You'll
suit the uniform better than I ever could."
West searched Will's eyes a moment. Was that a look of faint
regret in Mister Carter's eyes? That it wasn't him? That he had chosen another
path, and would never be what his father had wanted him to be?
West started at the realization and suddenly felt even more
gratitude towards the man he barely knew, yet had done so much for him, and
he hugged Will tightly.
"You know, Andrew will get jealous," Lisa commented
coming down the stairs, tsking.
Will looked over at her as West straightened up, "Sprog's
still not ready?"
"You go try," Lisa said, looking wolfishly over at
West. "It'll give me a chance to explain the difference between Ma'am
and Miss to our young friend here..."
Will chuckled as he climbed the stairs, leaning on the doorframe
to his room, looking at Sprog, still in his shirtsleeves sitting on the end
of the bed, his head bowed forward, and his blond hair hiding his eyes like
curtains.
"You know, I usually find it easier to get ready when I
put my clothes on," Will observed from the doorway.
Peter looked up, his eyes still red and puffy, as he chewed
on his lower lip. "I...don't want to go..." he said quietly.
"Of course you do," Will said folding his arms, still
leaning on the doorframe. "You just don't want to say good-bye at the
end of it."
Peter looked down again forlornly.
"But," Will said coming into the room and sitting
down next to his sprog, "if you don't go, you won't get a chance to say
good-bye. And if you love him, then you have to do it, or you'd just go crazy."
Peter curled up into Will's side, burying his blond head against
Will's chest. "It's not fair..." he murmured again.
"Nope," Will replied, "never is." He grabbed
a Kleenex from the bedside table and dabbed Peter's eyes, "But you're
not a little boy anymore, you're all grown-up now; in a few minutes you're
going to go down and go to your prom. And you're going to have a wonderful
night, and when you wake up tomorrow--because I know it doesn't seem like
it right now, but there will be a tomorrow--you'll cherish tonight forever."
Peter sniffed and shone his blue eyes up at his big brother.
"I love you..." he said softly.
Will shrugged, "I love you too, lil'one. And I can prove
it." He walked over to the unopened box that Brody had flown in especially
for the occasion, and Will smiled as he popped it open, pulling out the waist
coat, black with two red lions on either side of it up on their hind legs
pawing at each other.
"Wow..." Will murmured, looking up at Peter who was
staring at the waistcoat in surprise.
"Wow..." Peter mimicked, as he examined the intricate
embroidery that had taken someone a long time to sew.
"I asked for a daffy-duck special..." Will said shaking
his head and smiling; somehow Brody had known just what was needed, and as
usual had delivered on his promise. Reaching down Will pulled out the handwritten
note, ‘they ate the duck.' And Will laughed.
Peter slipped on the vest, turning as the metallic thread caught
the light, and he looked up at Will in awe. "It's beautiful..."
he said, letting Will tie the metallic red bow tie that matched it.
"Thank Brody when you see him," Will said, brushing
down the outfit and stepping back, smiling at the look--Peter standing there
looking comfortable and smart at the same time, a feat that only Brody could
have managed with his magic.
"I look awesome!" Peter grinned, a radiant grin that
brightened up his entire appearance.
"So does your date," Will said, dropping a not-so-subtle
reminder that West was in the clutches of Lisa, lecturing him no doubt on
the sexist application of ageism...
Peter shrugged on the tuxedo jacket, shooting his cuffs just
like Will always did first thing in the morning after donning a suit. And
Will grinned, realizing how many of his mannerisms Peter had picked up over
the years. And how proud he was to have had a part in raising the young man
opposite him.
"We should take some photos for your mom," Will said
with a nod, "since she's working tonight."
Peter nodded. "Yeah... you think I look good?" he
asked shyly as Will snapped a picture.
"If I wasn't six years older than you, and your big brother..."
Will joked.
Peter smirked, and bounced over to kiss Will lightly on the
lips. "But you are," he grinned. "Thanks for everything!"
Will slipped his hands into his pockets and shrugged, "I
do what I can. Now get downstairs." He pushed his sprog towards the door.
"But..." Peter said, suddenly getting shy again.
"No buts," Will said. "I'm kicking you out, time
this little bird learnt how to fly. I'm cutting the apron strings and all
those other sayings that mean it's time for you to grow up."
Peter caught the doorframe and clung on for dear life. Will
rolled his eyes and picked his sprog up, slinging him over his shoulder to
bodily carry him downstairs.
"No!" Peter giggled.
"Yes!" Will said, tramping downstairs and popping
him upright in the middle of the hall in front of his date, taking a second
to straighten down the tuxedo and ruffled blond hair. "One Sprog, special
delivery," he intoned, taking a step back beside Lisa, the proud parent,
watching his son... He smiled at that thought... face his date.
"Wow!" West declared, his eyes wide as he took in
Peter's appearance. "You look... amazing."
Peter grinned shyly. "T-thank you..." he stammered,
"y-you too..."
"I have..." West lifted the corsage, a beautiful lily,
which he fumbled out of its plastic container, and reached out, looking at
Peter for permission.
Peter nodded, looking in wonder as West pinned it to his lapel,
swallowing as he looked up, "I-I didn't get you one..."
"I don't think that's a problem," Will chimed up with
a grin.
Peter tossed his big brother a dirty look at the implications
of him being the only one to receive a corsage, and West blushed a bit.
"I have a limo..." West thumbed over his shoulder.
"We have to go pick up Matt... if that's okay..."
"No problem," Peter said, bouncing on the balls of
his feet nervously as West pulled open the door, and the two of them turned
for another picture, as Will folded his arms.
"He has a curfew," Will said with a smile. "He's
not to be back before seven am."
Lisa thumped him.
"I was just teasing," Will winced as he rubbed his
sore arm.
"You two have a good time," Lisa said, as they watched
the two young men leave.
"Drink?" Lisa offered, walking into the kitchen and
pulling out a bottle of Glenfiddich that was always tucked into the back of
the cupboard.
"He's all grown up..." Will said, standing in the
window watching the limo pull out and sweep his sprog away.
"Oh stop that," Lisa laughed. "He's always gonna
be your little boy, and you know it. Hell, he'll be thirty and still your
sprog."
"They grow up so fast," Will turned from the window,
smiling.
"Sometimes they never grow up at all," Lisa shook
her head at Will. "Boys stay boys, it's just their toys that get bigger..."
"Don't I know it," Will remarked, sitting down.
"Oh stop that," Lisa screwed up her nose. "That's
just gross."
"You brought it up," Will observed, accepting the
tumbler of scotch and tilting it back. "You think he's going to..."
he shook his head, "you know... what most people do on their Prom night?"
"You didn't," Lisa grinned.
"I have no recollection of the events in question,"
Will replied truthfully.
"Speaking of events," Lisa said as the front door
opened and Andrew hesitantly stepped inside.
He looked tired, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the
other as he looked through into the kitchen towards Will sitting at the breakfast
bar.
"Hey..." he called nervously, his hands sinking into
his pockets as he stood there.
"You just missed them," Lisa said pouring Will another
drink. "Peter looked smart."
"I forgot to give him the watch!" Will suddenly said,
standing up and looking over at the box on the side, wrapped with a bow. His
face looked ashen.
"We could catch them on the way in," Andrew offered
hesitantly.
Will grabbed his keys and handed them to Andrew as he tugged
on his leather jacket and a ball cap, following Andrew out to the Jeep. Lisa
made it clear she was staying behind, no doubt thinking this a good opportunity
for the two stubborn men to talk and resolve their issues.
Will got into the Jeep as Andrew backed it out onto the street.
"I'm sorry to make you do this..." he began.
Andrew swung the wheel and gunned the engine, looking over at
his boyfriend, "You need my help, it's cool." He smiled tightly
and nudged Will's arm, "I'm sorry for being an ass the other day..."
"Oh, I get used to it," Will said facetiously. "You're
an ass most days."
"Ok, I deserved that," Andrew said as the Jeep jumped
a red light, Andrew expertly negotiating a tight left turn despite the fact
he cut off a tricked-out Civic.
"It's okay, we're both stressed," Will replied, settling
back into the seat and buckling his seatbelt, glancing at the handsome face
of the man he had only grown closer to as the years went by. A tight worry
line showed here and there, only making Andrew seem more handsome, as he watched
the road intently.
"I love you," Andrew said. Suddenly he needed to say
it aloud, as if it was the life line that would stop Will from slipping away
from him.
Will closed his eyes and took a breath, opening his eyes again
and smiling. "I know," he replied, "I've always known."
"It still bugs me when you don't say it back." Andrew
glanced at Will. "But somehow I always know you mean it when you do say
it."
"I love you, Mister Andrew Pierre Highmore; if you haven't
worked that out by now..." Will smirked, "Dumb jock."
"Pompous Brit," Andrew fired back.
"Self-centred egoist!" Will countered.
"Limey!" Andrew grinned.
"Rancid monkey-fucker..." Will said in a flawless
upper-class English accent, which caused Andrew to stare at him in shock.
"Road..." Will pointed out as the Jeep swerved out
of oncoming traffic and back onto the right side of the road.
Andrew blinked. "What the hell was that?" he asked,
laughing, paying more attention to the road and slowing down a bit.
"I got creative," Will replied, loosening his tie
and tapping his cap back a bit away from his eyes. He smiled as Andrew pushed
the Jeep a little harder through the streets, climbing the hill to the school,
"Hey, this is where we first met..."
Andrew blinked and looked around him, as he slowed the Jeep,
"Yeah, you were trying to walk home in a snow storm without a jacket."
"And this handsome guy in a sports car stopped to give
me a lift." Will smiled. "I should have said no."
"I should have kept driving," Andrew countered, smiling
at his boyfriend, and taking Will's hand a moment and squeezing it. "Are
we good?"
"Yeah," Will said as the Jeep pulled up to the school,
"we're always good."
Andrew parked the Jeep, and leaned across to kiss Will lightly,
"You're still a grumpy old man."
Will smiled. "Hey, you're the one into grumpy old men,"
he said climbing down, stopping to look back at Andrew. "I'll be right
back."
Andrew nodded and settled in to wait, while Will crossed to
the main ramp up to the school's entrance, remembering his own time there
as a student. The seniors passing him in their tuxedos and beautiful dresses
barely noticed the guy in their midst wearing a ball cap, tie and leather
jacket, searching for his sprog.
He glanced back at the dark Jeep, at Andrew. They were going
through a rough patch--it happened. Every relationship had its good times
and its hard times. He wondered if they'd make it this time. Their lives seemed
to be spinning apart, and it may not have been as abrupt as Peter and West's
imminent separation, but he knew in a way he and Andrew were drifting apart.
Andrew was far from perfect--he could be naively blind at times, and Will
had a streak of arrogance in him that matched. But they had love, and just
like he had told Peter, they would both cherish the time they had together.
The familiar limo pulled up, spilling out its excited young
men. Will recognized Blake, and presumed the short guy he was with was his
boyfriend. He nodded to them, and intercepted a surprised Peter who got out
next.
"Will?" he asked in confusion.
"I forgot to give you something," Will said, fishing
the case out of his pocket and handing it over.
Peter looked at it, his eyes wide as he opened the case and
looked at the beautiful watch, turning it over in his fingers. "Master
of your own time," he read off the back aloud. He looked up, his eyes
welling up again, "Thank you."
Will smiled, and glanced over to where West was standing. "You
have a date, and I..." he looked over at his Jeep, "have Andrew
waiting."
Peter threw his arms around Will again and squeezed him tightly.
"I love you, big bro," he whispered.
"I know..." Will said softly back.
* * *
"So I got a call from some guy named Tony," Blake
said nudging Matt, the two of them standing under a balloon-covered nook,
the punch bowl next to them.
"Yeah?" Matt capped the small flask he had just emptied
into the bowl and grinned over at Blake, "Should I be jealous?"
"Yeah," Blake grinned, "I think you should--he
asked me out."
Matt returned the grin, "Neat, a three-way..."
"Ha!" Blake laughed, "don't get any ideas."
"So," Matt said folding his arms and grinning at Blake,
"you gonna go out with him?"
"Well, I am kind of seeing someone," Blake replied,
raising his eyebrow.
"True," Matt agreed poking Blake playfully in the
ribs, "but you should still call him back. I mean I'm going off to school
and stuff... and we both agreed to keep this..."
"You're jealous," Blake said, his eyes lighting up.
"No," Matt waved him off dismissively, "don't
be... I told you to go...I am not!" He folded his arms sulkily.
"You are!" Blake accused, brimming over with delight.
"It means you really do care!"
"I do not!" Matt grumbled. "I just want sex,
remember?"
"Liar!" Blake smirked. "So... I want a big wedding..."
"Shoot me!" Matt groaned.
"That can be arranged," West approached through the
crowd, stopping to shake hands with a couple of his teammates. "Have
any of you seen Peter?"
"Senior garden," Blake smiled. "You know him
and big crowds."
West smiled his thanks, stopping to regard the odd couple and
shaking his head, "You two look cute together."
"Shut up," Matt grumbled again, slipping his hand
back under Blake's jacket, to find that patch of skin again that he had steadily
managed to expose with similar expeditions.
Blake grinned again, feeling more of his shirt coming un-tucked,
"White picket fence..."
* * *
The small stone terrace at the back of the school had become
an art project for the seniors that year, a small legacy they had put together
to remind everyone of the Class of Two Thousand. It wasn't supposed to be
open, but Peter had been the one responsible for planning the landscaping
of the garden, and he had convinced Mister Greenwood to open it up for him.
West found him standing under the starlit sky, in the waistcoat,
beside the cascading fountain that echoed the faint music from inside the
gym. Peter didn't turn, just enjoyed the quiet beauty of something he had
made.
"It's beautiful," West said breaking the moment of
silence, coming up to wrap his arms around Peter's shoulders and draw him
in close.
"Yeah," Peter smiled, closing his eyes and enjoying
the warmth of West's arms, laying his head back against West's chest.
"Are you going to be okay?" West asked, resting his
chin on top of Peter's head.
"When you go?" Peter asked, and shook his head. "I'll
be okay, I think; I have tonight, right here... now..."
West turned Peter around, looking around them at the stars,
the water of the fountain reflecting the lights of the school, and the music
in the background. He extended his hand, meeting Peter's eyes.
Peter blinked, as a slow song began back in the school, and
he stepped forward shaking his head. "You're crazy," he said, blushing.
West pulled Peter close to him, wrapping a reassuring hand around
his waist, while Peter's other hand took West's shoulder, nervous a moment,
as he stared into West's reassuring eyes. He swallowed and rested his head
against West's chest again. The two young men glided gently back and forth
to the sound of the music on the patio stones of the garden Peter had made.
There was no army, no schools, no world right then. Just two heartbeats beating
in rhythm as they danced. And Peter shivered lightly, feeling West squeeze
his waist, and he looked up into those happy grey eyes.
"I love you," West said softly.
"I know," Peter replied as they kissed. Tomorrow would
come, they both knew it. But for right then, it was their moment, and they
cherished it.
THE END
