Aria (16 page)

S
AM woke before Aiden. At some point during the night, he had gone back to his own small bed. He hadn’t slept much. He guessed Aiden hadn’t slept much either, judging by all the tossing and turning he’d done while Sam had been awake watching him. In spite of himself, Sam felt guilty for dragging Aiden along. He should have just told his parents he couldn’t come this year, given Aiden time before he forced him to meet the “in-laws.”

He trudged downstairs in pajama pants and a T-shirt, squinting at the bright light in the kitchen. He’d barely managed to scoop some coffee into the coffeemaker when he heard the back door open.

“Hey, Becca.” Sam smiled as she wrapped her arms around him and pressed her face against his back.
“Why aren’t you still in bed snuggling with your new man?”
“Hard to snuggle in a twin bed.” Sam poured the water into the coffee machine and watched the liquid begin to drip down into the pot.
“Ouch. Nice to see you too, Sammy.”
“Sorry. I didn’t sleep enough last night.” He hoped the explanation would satisfy her curiosity, although he doubted it. Becca was hardly shy when it came to asking about anything.
“Dinner that bad?”
Sam shrugged.
“Let me guess. Parental units got you down?” She put her hand to her chin and frowned in an uncanny imitation of their father.
“Don’t go there.” He pulled a mug out of a cabinet, swapped the cup for the carafe until it filled, then replaced the carafe without spilling a drop.
“Impressive. Learned a new skill?”
“I’m not in the mood, Beck.” He took the cup and walked out of the kitchen, sat down on the couch in the family room, and put his bare feet on the coffee table. She smirked. He’d never have put his feet up if his parents had been around, and she knew it.
She followed and sat down beside him. “So tell me about him. Arden?”
“Aiden.” She knew
damn
well what Aiden’s name was; she was working him. He tried to keep his cool. Snark at six in the morning wasn’t his strong suit.
“Tell me about Aiden.”
“How’s school?” he countered.
“Fine.” She kicked off her shoes and socks and wiggled her toes. “Same old, same old. One more semester and I’m out of this town.”
“Good for you.”
“Don’t patronize me.”
He sighed and drank some more of the coffee.
“Tell me about Aiden,” she repeated, tucking her legs underneath her and frowning, her blue eyes narrowed.
“I’m really not in the mood.”
“You love him?”
“Yes.”
“He love you?”
“He says he does.”
She snickered. “Trouble in paradise, then?”
“No.”
“Mom and Dad give him grief?”
He stood up and retrieved his now empty cup from the table. “I don’t want to talk about this right now.”
“Why not?”
Damn good question.
He walked back into the kitchen without answering her and leaned against the counter. He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. The image of a man flashed through his mind. But it wasn’t Aiden. It was Nick.
“One of these years, we need to swap holidays,” Sam could hear Nick say. “Thanksgiving in Rockland County. Christmas in Memphis so I can hear your dad play those cheesy Elvis Christmas songs.” He wore an impish smile.
“You just want to see my dad get all teared up.”
Nick grinned. “Yeah.” He leaned over and kissed Sam. “What gets you all teary eyed, Sammy?”
If you only knew, Nick.
“You okay?” His sister’s hand on his shoulder brought him back to the present.
His eyes burned and he clenched his jaw to fight back the wave of pain that slammed into him. He’d been back home how many times since Nick had died? And yet this visit was different. “I’m fine.” He didn’t mean to snap at her. God knew she was only trying to be kind.
“Sorry, Beck. I guess I’m tired.” This visit had been a mistake. He was sure of it.
He plodded back to the bedroom without meeting her eyes, afraid that her sympathy might push him over the edge. Aiden rolled over at the sound of the closing door, but he didn’t wake up. In spite of the coffee, Sam was asleep a few minutes later.

The smell of turkey hung in the air, the sound of clinking dishes resonated from the other side of the house, and the sun was already high in the sky, streaming in through the wooden blinds. “What time is it?”

“Eleven.”
“Shit. Mother will be wondering—”
“It’s been taken care of.” Aiden was grinning now. “I helped her

scrub the sweet potatoes, helped Rebecca polish the silver, and got the crystal wineglasses down from the top cabinet.”
“You’re good.”
“I try. Your mom seems to have warmed up to me a bit. Called me ‘Nick’ a few times.” He laughed, but Sam heard a bit of an edge in Aiden’s usually warm voice. “Not so sure about your sister, though. She gave me one of those looks, then grilled me on our relationship.” Aiden made a face, and Sam snorted.
“That’s Beck. Baby of the family. Smart as hell and smart mouth too.” He didn’t mention that she’d adored Nick like a brother and would probably compare Aiden’s every move to Nick’s. “What did you tell her?”
“Very little. Besides, your mother was right there.”
“Sorry about that. Beck means well, she’s just a bit overprotective. And she knows that my parents are still a little uncomfortable about my sexuality, even after all these years. At least she didn’t ask you what flavor lube you prefer.”
“She did ask if we were using a French letter.”
“Fuck. In front of my mother?” Sam blanched.
“Honestly, I had to look it up on my phone. It’s not exactly what we called condoms back in Fenton. Don’t worry, I don’t think your mother heard. She was too busy straightening the silverware and listening to some recipe for hot-pink cranberry sauce on NPR.”
“This was a mistake.” Sam realized that Aiden might take this the wrong way and quickly added, “It wasn’t fair of me to subject you to this.”
“I’m glad you did.” Aiden pulled Sam up off the bed and pressed his slightly damp skin against Sam’s neck. “Besides, your family’s a hell of a lot easier to deal with than mine. Becca’s trying to see what I’m made of, and your parents are only looking out for you.”
The loud knock on the door made them both jump. “What do you want, Becca?” Sam growled. There was only one person who knocked like that.
“Just making sure you weren’t going to spend all day f—”
Sam opened the door, cutting her off. “Please come in,” he said in his calmest, most lawyerly voice. “Let’s talk.”
“I’ll go help your mother.” Aiden gave Sam a knowing smile. “See ya later, Becca.”
The minute the door closed, Becca sat down on one of the beds, crossed her arms over her chest, and said, “He’s okay. I guess.”
Sam reminded himself, as he took a moment to master the urge to give in to his rekindled anger, that she was only twenty. It was easy to forget how young she was—she’d gone to college at seventeen. In his last year of college, he’d spent nights hanging with his friends at bars, picking up men, and barely managing to pass his classes at NYU. Until he’d met Nick. Becca had done her best to push all their parents’ buttons, but she’d still managed to stay at the top of her class. Lord knew, Sam probably would have driven his parents insane if he’d stayed in Memphis for college.
“I’m so glad you approve.” Well, he might be more than ten years older, but he wasn’t dead, either. She’d learned about attitude from the best, after all.
She glared at him. “Don’t treat me like a kid, Sam.”
“Then don’t act like one.”
“Fine,” she said. “So what did you want to talk about?”
“Why you’re so hard on Aiden.”
“I’m not—”
“Like hell. Bringing up condoms with Mom around—that was supposed to make it easier for him?”
“I didn’t say ‘condom’. I said ‘French letter’.”
“Right.”
“Mom wouldn’t have had a clue.”
Sam said nothing but sat down on the opposite bed, facing her.
“All right, all right. I shouldn’t have said it. I don’t know why I did. It was stupid of me.”
“You’re right. It was stupid.”
She glared back at him for a moment. Then her expression softened. “You miss him, don’t you?”
“Who? Nicky?” The thought had crossed his mind—that there was more to his shitty mood than just lack of sleep and his parents calling Aiden “Nick”—but he’d brushed it off.
She nodded.
“Yes. I miss him.” Why lie to her? It was bad enough he’d been lying to himself. “You do too, don’t you?”
“Of course I do. But that doesn’t have anything to do with Aiden.”
For the first time this morning, he smiled. Suddenly everything seemed clear to him. “But it has
everything
to do with Aiden, doesn’t it?”
She scowled at him.
“Come on. You know I’m right.”
“Aiden’s so… I don’t know… uptight. He tries too hard.” She looked everywhere but at him.
“He’s nervous, Beck. Hell, so am I, and you’re my family.”
“There’s nothing to be nervous about.” She straightened up a bit and finally met his gaze. “It’s not like you’d dump him if Mom and Dad didn’t approve.”
“Of course I wouldn’t. But put yourself in his shoes. You’d probably be shitting bricks right about now.”
“Maybe.” She nibbled on a fingernail and looked away from him, then laughed. “Mom and Dad are a trip, aren’t they?”
“Sometimes. But they mean well.”
“You only say that because you aren’t looking at yet another entire summer spent with them.” She was chewing on her finger again.
Sam got up from the bed and sat down next to her, his shoulder pressed against hers. “It gets better. You’re looking to go out of town for grad school, right?” She nodded. “Then it’s another summer and you’ll be out of here.”
“I’m not sure I can even handle that. Did you know I wore eyeliner last week and Mom just about freaked?” She snorted and shook her head. “I’m fucking twenty years old, Sammy.”
“It’s only a few more months.”
“Yeah.”
He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “I miss him too. Nicky.”
Tears welled up in her eyes. “I know it’s been a long time since he… since he died. I was just your bratty sister back then.”
“Still are.” Sam smiled reassuringly at her.
She elbowed him. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah. I do.”
“He was so cool. He let me try out his paints. He even snuck me this book with all these cool tattoo designs in—”
“He…
what
?”
She laughed. “He made me promise I wouldn’t get one until I was twenty-one.”
Sam rubbed his forehead and sighed theatrically. “Sounds like Nick.”
“You know, I always wondered if he had a tat.” She eyed Sam with a bit of mischief in her expression. “I never saw one.”
Sam chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. Nick had gotten a tattoo on his ass about a year after they’d gotten together. Sam’s name with flames rising from each letter. Nick had designed it himself. It had been a bit of a dare. Sam hadn’t thought he’d actually do it, but when Nick came home one night and dropped his pants, Sam decided it was about the hottest thing he could think of.
“You’re blushing,” Becca pointed out triumphantly. “So he
did
have a tattoo!”
“Don’t change the subject.”
“I wasn’t. We were talking about Nicky.”
“Look, Beck,” he said, doing his best to steer the conversation back on track, “I loved him. We all did. But Aiden’s a great guy too. You need to cut him a break.”
“Okay. I’ll try.”
“Thanks.” He hugged her tight.
“He is kind of cute,” she said as she got up from the bed a moment later. “I looked him up online. He’s bisexual, right?”
Sam laughed and shook his head again. “Becca….”
“Just sayin’.” She grinned at him and added, “If he ever gets tired of you, I’d definitely be interested.”
He got up off the bed and made as if he were going to strangle her. She waved and walked out, closing the door behind her. For a minute or two, he stood there and let the pain settle back into his gut. He was used to it. He’d get past it. He had to.
I loved you, Nicky. But I love him too.

B
Y THE time Sam showered and dressed an hour later, Savannah and Tom had arrived and were chatting with Aiden, who appeared to be holding his own. As usual, Sam’s father said very little, instead sitting by the fireplace smoking a pipe over Becca’s vocal protests and feigned coughing. Claudia flitted between kitchen and dining room until Savannah announced that she and Tom were expecting, after which Claudia’s flitting became a frenzied and overjoyed buzzing as she hovered happily over her daughter. Claudia then lectured her husband until he put out the pipe with a look of long-suffering patience. Sam was just relieved that he and Aiden were no longer the center of his parents’ attention. Aiden, too, seemed to appreciate sitting back and listening to Savannah’s plans for the baby’s room and the upcoming ultrasound, during which they hoped to learn if it was a boy or a girl. This led to a lively discussion of potential names.

Two hours later, after they’d finished dessert—Aiden gushing over Claudia’s chess pie, and rightly so—Sam and Aiden finally convinced Claudia to let them do the dishes.

“Thanks.” Sam took a large platter from Aiden’s hands and began to dry it.
“For what?”
“For being patient.”
“It wasn’t difficult. They’re good people.”
“I wish she’d stop calling you Nick.”
Aiden shrugged. “It’s a compliment. Don’t sweat it.”
Sam said nothing.
“How were they with him? Nick, I mean.”
Different. Warmer.
“I don’t know,” Sam lied. “I never really thought about it.” That much was true. Not until this trip. But would it help to tell Aiden the truth? This trip had been hard enough for Aiden, and he’d be leaving directly from Memphis to London on Sunday evening. “But I can tell they like you.” That part was also true, to Sam’s great relief.
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”