Watching Elijah Fall Page 8

  Chapter 8

  “Could you have picked a day that was any fucking hotter?” Nicholas called out as the two of us pushed open Robert and Evan’s door. He carried a boxed and bowed lemon tart from his favorite bakery, me, a case of beer.

  “That’s what the pool is for, Princess.” I heard Robert yell from the kitchen.

  “Where do you want this stuff?” I asked, poking my head into the room where I saw Robert making a salad.

  “Just take it out to the patio,” he told me, pointing out the small window with a salad spoon, “and then feel free to hop in. Michael is already out there with Barry or Larry or something or other with a y.”

  Our friend Michael went through men too quickly for any of us to really learn their names, and as horrible as it sounded, we had all pretty much quit trying.

  “Where’s Evan?” I asked, setting the beer on the table so that I could lift the camera that I had slung over my shoulder, and snap a few pictures of Robert in full-on domestic mode. He flashed me a smile, indulging me.

  “He’s in the far end of the yard talking to Elijah.”

  “Elijah’s here?” My excitement had Robert raising an eyebrow.

  “Who’s Elijah?” Nicholas said, standing on his toes to peer out the kitchen window into the backyard.

  “He’s a friend of Evan’s, and Jacob’s photography teacher,” Robert supplied, still looking at me curiously.

  “Oh? Is there something going on I should know about?” Nicholas asked with a wide grin, teasing.

  “No. Nothing like that. We just get coffee together,” I told him. “And we went to a movie a couple of weeks ago.”

  Both Nicholas and Robert’s eyes grew big, glancing at one another, and I regretted the confession. Elijah and I had not repeated the date since that night. And, even though neither one of us said the word, we both knew it had been a date. But in the days since, we had grabbed coffee after every lab and class. Not always on our own, sometimes Elizabeth or other students joined us, but we both made an effort to catch a few minutes alone on those nights— me, showing up early whenever possible to help mix the chemicals, him, sometimes standing outside by my car, for as much as an hour after everyone else had driven away, just to talk.

  I was absolutely crazy about him. And even as a little internal voice inside my head warned me that I was going to get my heart utterly broken, I couldn’t stay away. I couldn’t help but hope.

  Nicholas and I slipped outside, dropping our contributions to the cookout onto the table. We both waved at Michael who sat on the edge of the inground pool talking to a cute blond bobbing in the water in front of him. The man turned out to be Terry. Spotting Evan and Elijah speaking intently about something by the back gate, I lifted my hand to wave.

  They both waved back, Elijah’s smile making my chest tight.

  Nicholas slipped off his T-shirt, tossing it on a chair, before throwing himself into the pool, making me have to jump away or get soaked. We had both worn white T-shirts and matching square cut raspberry trunks. They looked great on Nicholas, but now that I knew Elijah was here, made me want to blush, wishing I had opted for a slightly more conservative cut, if not color.

  We had been shopping together that morning, and Nicholas sometimes could talk me into doing the silliest things. Of course, matching swim trunks was one of the least ridiculous.

  After a few minutes, Evan and Elijah joined me on the patio. Evan taking a chair next to mine, Elijah across from me. Evan introduced Elijah to Nicholas, who greeted him happily from the cool water of the pool.

  Elijah wore light aqua shorts that sat just above the knee and a white button-up linen shirt, as always, impeccably dressed, and I had the hardest time not staring at his bare feet and the light dusting of hair on his legs.

  After a light lunch, I spent some time in the pool, having grown tired of the curious looks I was getting from Nicholas for having spent the bulk of my time at Elijah’s side, and throwing a football around with Michael and Robert in the grass. A few beers had me more relaxed, and I eventually pulled out my camera again, snapping shots of a grinning Michael and Terry, of Nicholas and Evan cuddled together into a single lounge chair like two contrasting kittens from the same litter and of a beautifully shirtless Elijah.

  Later on, in the darkened living room, Evan lay on the couch, a beer on the floor at his side, and I sat slumped lazily in a chair. We could hear Nicholas and Robert laughing in the kitchen, everyone else having already said their good-byes. Even though the house was cool, and the temperature had dropped with the sun, the heat of the day, the food and the swimming had made me drowsy.

  “So, do you care about him?” Evan’s voice was quiet, and it took me a few minutes to answer.

  “Of course, but it’s not that simple.”

  “It’s never simple.” Evan said, his eyes closed.

  “I don’t suppose it ever is,” I responded.

  After a moment, Evan spoke again. “What has Robert told you about me?” he asked, and I opened my eyes, surprised at the question. He still laid there, eyes closed, his arms folded behind his head, and I studied him a moment before answering.

  “He’s told me very little.”

  “Well,” he started, taking a deep breath and finally opening his eyes to look at me. “My dad kicked me out of the house, you know, when I told him I was gay.” I nodded, not because I already knew, but so he knew I was listening.

  “It’s this huge fight. He’s so angry it gets physical. Like it was just me rebelling, you know? So, anyway, I’m on my own for the first time. Ever. And it takes me a few days to figure out what to do. Eventually, I show up at this youth shelter on Parsons in the middle of the night. I’ve got no money, a black eye and what I found out later was a fractured wrist. And there was Elijah.”

  At Evan’s confession, I had the strongest desire to grab him tight to my chest and protect him. I wondered if Robert felt that same way every minute of every day.

  I watched as he closed his eyes again.

  “He was the director there at the time, which, if you listen to him tell it, pretty much meant his whole day was spent trying to collect donations to keep the lights on. Anyway, I’d been on the street for more than a week, it’s starting to get cold as shit, and every bed is taken. And somehow Elijah is able to see past it all. He sees past the black eye, the fucked up wrist, the dirt and the fear. He’s able to see past the fact that at that moment I would have probably pushed an old woman down the stairs for a fucking sandwich, and he actually lets me sleep in the guest room of his own house.” Evan shook his head and opened his eyes to look at me again. “My father couldn’t even see past me liking boys, and he’d known me all my life.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say, so I said nothing.

  “David had died a few months before in a car accident,” Evan continued, pushing to prop himself up on his elbows. “His husband,” he added, and I nodded my understanding. “David had apparently been a big lawyer specializing in family and emancipation law, so Elijah lives in this beautiful old house full of things I could so easily have stolen, but he chooses to trust me.

  “He hands me sweats and a T-shirt that are huge on me, points me to his guest room with its own bath, and I take my first shower in days. Afterward, he wraps my wrist and feeds me and then I get to sleep in an actual bed, the door locked because I’m scared to death. And the next morning I wake to the smell of breakfast cooking.”

  Evan’s smile tells me that despite the horror of the situation, the memory was a good one.

  “When I woke up, I’d forgotten where I was. I think I’m home for a few minutes before I open my eyes and remember. And when I do, I can’t stop crying. Elijah shows up, holds my good hand until I finally pull myself together enough to go downstairs, and he makes me an omelet, gives me some weird-tasting soy bacon, orange juice, and actually makes me take a multivitamin.” Evan laughed at the memory and the sound of it made me smile. “I was seventeen, just about to turn eighteen, and I lived there with him for more than a year, until I had my feet under myself, a job, a place of my own. And as much as I needed him, I know he needed me too.”

  We both sat there quiet for several minutes, and I struggled to understand why Evan was telling me this. After a moment, Evan pushed himself up to sitting and leaned toward me, his voice quiet.

  “Listen, Robert doesn’t want me getting involved. Says it isn’t my place, and I know he’s right.”

  I nodded, though to what, exactly, I didn’t know.

  “I knew something bad had gone down with you and your ex. Your hostility toward me. The weight loss you didn’t need. Here you were, this great-looking guy, and I could tell you couldn’t see that. Sometimes we are so damaged that what we need in order to see ourselves again is someone else who can see us too. Not the outside,” he said, gesturing up and down my body with his hand. “That’s like a puff of smoke. Gone in an instant. But see the things about us that really matter. The things on the inside.”

  “Evan,” I said, my quiet tone matching his, “I’m good. Really. I’ve made it past that dark place, you know?”

  Evan shook his head, reaching over to place a hand on my knee. “You’re not the one I’m talking about.”

  With that, he stood up, heading to the kitchen with its bright light and its sounds of happy chatter, leaving me alone with my thoughts.