Carol of the Bellskis (9 page)

with someone I think is smarter than me.”

Carol of the Bellskis

51

Seth snorted. “Right.”

“You
are
smarter than me,” Lars said.

“I'm just a paralegal.”

“That's because you didn't have parents who gave you a full ride to law school. If you

wanted to be a lawyer, you'd be the best. Hell, if you wanted to be a doctor, you could do it. I've

always known you were brilliant. I only hate your title because I know you could do better and

we're taking advantage of you at the firm. You're too smart to be filing my paperwork.”

“The sad part is, I like my job,” Seth admitted. He spotted a fallen log half buried in the

snow and stepped over it carefully. Lars followed him.

“I found the work fun at first,” Seth continued. “And I liked helping you. Even before we

became lovers, I liked your style and the way you worked with people, how you helped them

when they were scared.”

Lars nodded. “It's why I do what I do. It isn't just about the money, you know.”

“I know.” Seth sighed. “For you, at least. Finch? I'm not sure. And everyone knows that

new attorney, Steve Vale, he's in it for the cold hard cash.”

Lars snorted. “Yeah. But he's a damn good defense lawyer; we're lucky to have him.” He

blinked into the darkness. “Finch, though… I think you'd be surprised. He has more heart than he

lets on.”

“The fucking bastard is a homophobe.” Seth spat on the ground. “He doesn't believe in gay

marriage, and he calls anyone he doesn't like a cocksucker.”

Lars didn't say anything.

“Lars?”

“I know.” Lars clenched his teeth. “Can you see why I don't want him to know about us?”

“But it doesn't matter what he thinks!” Seth shouted. “You're Lars Varga. You're fifty

percent of the company. Fuck Finch. You don't need him.”

“We've been partners for ten years, ever since we passed the bar,” Lars said. He sniffed.

“I'd have to start all over again.”

“Your clients will follow you.”

“Some would. Many wouldn't. Bowen wouldn't.”

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Astrid Amara

Seth felt icy just remembering their afternoon argument. “You'd have other clients. Gay

clients. People who don't hate you for who you are.”

Lars remained silent. Seth almost asked
Well?
but then he heard Lars swallow. He turned

and shone the flashlight in Lars's face. Lars blinked, wiping his eyes.

They stared at each other.

“Lars,” Seth said, just as Lars said, “Look.”

They both paused.

And then Seth heard a quiet moan, and he spun around, the flashlight skimming the

bushes.

He caught the reflective stripe of a shoe. He nodded to Lars, and the two of them ran in the

shoe's direction.

Sitting there on a log, shivering, was Mendel Rosenbaum.

“Thank God!” Seth cried. He sat beside Mr. Rosenbaum on the log. “Are you all right?”

“I'm a little cold,” Mendel said, teeth chattering. His arms were crossed together under his

coat, and ice particles had formed in his beard.

“What happened?” Seth asked.

“I'll phone the Neidlichs and call off the search,” Lars said. He grabbed Seth's phone and

walked off a distance.

“I don't know what happened,” Mendel said. His voice was weak. “I was angry and

wandered off down the trail and got distracted, and I found myself all turned around.” He looked

at the woods suspiciously. “How far are we from the house?”

“About ten minutes' walk,” Seth said. He helped Mendel stand. “Let's get you back. I'll call

an ambulance and have it meet us.”

“Oh no, no ambulance. I'm sure I'm fine.”

“Mr. Rosenbaum, you probably have hypothermia, if not frostbite. It wouldn't be wise to

ignore the fact that you've been out in the cold for almost five hours.”

“I'm in perfect health. Give me a swig of some booze and a hot fire, and I'll be good as

new!”

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53

They walked back toward the house. Mendel shook his head. “That should teach me for

being so angry, huh?”

“People get lost in the woods all the time, Mr. Rosenbaum,” Seth said. “It isn't your fault.”

“But if something had happened… God. The last thing I said to Rita was that she should

go to hell.” His eyes filled with tears. “That would have been terrible. I do love her, you know.

More than anyone or anything in this world.”

Seth swallowed. Lars looked at him, eyes unsteady.

Out of the darkness, they heard women's voices, and Heidi and Sharon joined them. They

latched arms with Mr. Rosenbaum and flattered him to the point that he blushed red. The fact

that he could blush reassured Seth that disaster had been averted.

Back inside the house, Doctor Mister barked a high-pitched, obnoxious yap hello, and Rita

Rosenbaum threw herself on her husband.

“Oh thank God! Thank God and thank you, Mr. Bellski! Thank you, Lars and Sharon and

Heidi! Thank God!” She bustled her husband over toward the fire. “Now you sit there and warm

up! What were you thinking, going on trails like a mountain goat! Didn't you think about me for

one second? What would I do without you? What if they hadn't found you?” She started crying.

Mr. Rosenbaum still shivered. Seth threw a blanket over his shoulders, into which Mrs.

Rosenbaum buried her head and wept onto her husband's shoulder.

“There, there, Rita,” he said, softly rubbing her back. “I promised to be with you until the

day you die. I told you that before.”

“You can't go first!” she said hysterically.

The two of them held each other. Seth coughed and pointed to the dining room, and the

gathered onlookers immediately fled toward the menorah, everyone smiling, except for Lars.

54

Astrid Amara

Chapter Five

“Hey.”

Seth rolled over.

“Hey.” That voice again.

For a moment Seth closed his eyes and smiled, remembering.

That weekend on the beach, the two of them, alone in that big, beautiful, empty house. The

weather had been terrible, and they had spent the entire time indoors. Lars had made breakfast in

bed, and after they ate, Lars had fucked him for the first time. It had always been the other way

around, Seth somewhat nervous about the whole prospect after a rocky introduction with an

impatient prick several years before, but this experience was very different. They had taken their

time; there had been faith implicit in each caress, every kiss. Lars had spoken to him softly as he

prepared Seth. They had joked and made puns and kissed, and they had compared their cocks,

rubbed them together in oily union, laughing, and then the slick, cool sensation of lubrication,

the intrusion and stretch, and then nothing but pleasure, pleasure inherent in a trust given to so

few, something so precious, it had to be earned.

Seth remembered the peace and security of having Lars curled around him, his cock warm

inside Seth's ass, and it was the first time Seth thought to himself, I am in love with this man. I

would do anything for him.

“Hey.”

Seth blinked and rubbed his eyes. When he rolled over, Lars was sitting next to him on the

bed, fully dressed. He had showered and shaved. He held out a breakfast tray.

“I know how you like breakfast in bed,” Lars said. He spoke softly, hesitantly. “It's

Sunday, after all.”

Seth sat up completely, finally fully conscious. He looked at the tray. It held about twenty

pounds of food.

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55

He was still recalling his dream. How good it had felt to have Lars so close. That safety, of

loving someone so self-assured.

Lars looked at him, and his eyes widened. Seth reached up, realizing that he had tears in

the corners of his own eyes.

“Seth.” Lars sounded stricken.

Seth clamped his eyes shut.

“Goddamn it, what are you thinking?” Lars asked.

Seth shook his head. “You don't want to know.”

“Tell me.”

“I was thinking about the Rosenbaums. How nice it would be to have someone who

noticed if you didn't return from your afternoon walk.”

“I would notice.” Lars frowned.

“But you wouldn't be able to do anything about it.” Seth opened his eyes and stared at the

breakfast tray. “You'd miss me but couldn't risk showing any concern at work.”

“Seth, if it were a matter of life or death, everything else wouldn't matter.”

Seth looked up. “If it were a matter of life or death, you'd come out?”

Lars clenched his jaw. Finally, he nodded. “Yes. Is that what you want to hear? Yes. If it

was come out or have you die? Of course I'd come out. Hell, I'd blow you in front of the whole

office if it'd save your life.” Lars shook his head. “But it isn't a matter of life or death. And it's

my job.”

“There are other jobs.” Seth glared down at the tray.

They were both silent for a long moment.

“Anyway”—Lars let out a shaky breath and stood—“I couldn't remember if you preferred

maple syrup or fruit on your pancakes, so I made both.” He hesitated by the side of the bed.

“I'll go clean up after the guests. They're all going off on some walking tour that Ben

Berkowitz arranged.”

“Ben's leaving the house?” Seth said, grateful for a neutral topic to take his mind off their

relationship troubles.

Lars's mouth curled upward. “Yeah. I think he's making a move on Sharon Neidlich.”

56

Astrid Amara

Seth grimaced. “Ugh.”

“She seems to be humoring him.”

“He's twenty years older than her.”

“And he reads
romances
,” Lars added. He reached out, hesitated, and dropped his hand to

Seth's head. He rested his palm there and then gently brushed the bangs off Seth's forehead.

And he left.

“Fuck,” Seth said to no one in particular. He dug into the breakfast tray, astounded at the

quantities. Lars had tremendous prospects of becoming a very good Jewish mother. He had the

food portions right, at least.

After he ate, Seth leaned over the bed and fished out his phone, which blinked and flashed

screens and showed symbols that he had missed twenty-eight calls the day before. None of them

were from the RCMP. They were all from East Coast Bellskis, several of whom were threatening

to come out there and find Judi and Carl if Seth failed.

That morning, Rabbi Chaim informed Seth that the entire Jewish community was out in

force, looking for the Bellskis.

Sometime around noon, Heidi came over to Seth and sat very close to him on the couch,

where had been trying to read the book he'd brought along. She glanced around the room, and

then leaned in and giggled into his ear.

“Are things ready for tonight?” she whispered hotly.

For a moment Seth froze, suspecting some sort of joke. Was this a weird form of Lars

revenge?

“You know,” Heidi continued, “for Sharon's surprise birthday party?”

“Oh!” Seth recovered quickly. He was more grateful that it wasn't some weird pass at him

than he was perturbed by this new, latest surprise. “Oh, sure, sure! For her…birthday, right?”

Heidi grinned and nodded. She had dimples when she smiled, and her curly hair bounced

around her round, pretty face. “Her fortieth.”

“Oh yeah. We've got a cake,” Seth said, lying. He lowered his voice. “Was there anything

else we were supposed to have ready?”

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57

“Well, if you had balloons or streamers or something, that would be nice, but it doesn't

matter.” Heidi clapped her hands together and leaned in again, very closely. “I'll keep her out of

the house until sundown, and then we can surprise her right before the lighting of the candles.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Seth said. For God's sake. Would there never be an end to the special

requests in this damned household?

As soon as Heidi and Sharon left for their excursion, Seth darted into the kitchen to warn

Lars. But he wasn't there.

He searched the entire house and walked around the periphery, but couldn't find Lars.

What if he did what I asked and left?
Seth felt cold shudder through him. That was the last

thing he wanted.

What the fuck was he saying? He
needed
Lars to leave.

He took a deep breath, braced himself, and walked to the bottom of the drive. Lars's car

was still parked. Seth felt almost ashamed of the way that, in his relief, he expelled the breath

he'd been holding.

Seth went back inside and dug around his aunt's closets and drawers looking for party

supplies. For a moment he wished he could just call her and ask. A sudden sadness washed over

him.

She could be dead.

How was it that he could even continue to celebrate and fight with Lars and light candles

and think about getting laid when his relatives were in peril? His stomach clenched.

Then he remembered the massive locked wardrobe up in the Chuppah Room. He dug

around the register desk for the odd-looking key and went up to his room.

And froze.

There, on the bed, was a package.

It was wrapped, blue and silver. Seth didn't recognize the paper from the games room,

where he had placed other rolls for the guests to wrap their small gifts to their family members

for each night of the holiday. That meant this was bought in town and wrapped there.