Something Beautiful (2 page)

This one also rang and rang: it was still the middle of the night in California, and Dune wasn't answering. Micah said to the voice mail, "Hi, Dunie, it's me. Things have happened here and
 
--" His voice was decidedly wobbly. "I just really need to talk to you," he said quickly and hung up.

Okay. No Lucas. No Dune to talk to. He couldn't talk to his parents about it: they thought Lucas was just a friend. His sister Shiloh didn't know he was gay, either, and his friends -- well, they'd mean well, but they'd mostly just pat him on the head and tell him he'd get over it.

Should I go home?
he thought.
Should I stay and finish the trip? Should I call his family to ask them to talk to him for me?
He scowled at that one -- Lucas’ parents were nice enough, but they still found the concept of their son having a boyfriend baffling.

He flopped onto his back, feeling nearly buried in the deep mattress. It felt safe here -- it felt cozy. He wanted to stay curled up here until all his problems sorted themselves out, until somebody told him what he should do, until Lucas came to his senses.

No one would tell him what to do -- and if they did, it wasn't anything he wanted to hear. They'd tell him this trip was too much to handle on his own and he should come home.

Except … he didn't want to go home. Going home now would be like admitting defeat -- it would be like admitting he was the kid everybody thought he was. Little Micah, too scared to travel on his own.

He wasn't a kid. His parents, his friends -- he wasn't the same Micah they thought he was. It was time they all realized that.

"I'm staying," he decided.

He picked up the cell phone again and once more dialed Dune. "Hey, Dunie, it's me again. Um, never mind about that last call. I'm fine. I was overreacting, but I'm fine now. I'll tell you about it later. No need to call me. I'll send you a postcard soon. I miss you! Bye."

Micah hung up and leaned his chin on his knee, then jumped off the bed and stripped off his clothes to get into the shower. If he was staying -- and he was staying -- he should get out and see the city, take pictures, experience Paris.

He'd just have to get used to doing it without Lucas.

***

Dune Bellamy leaned his chin on his hand and turned away from the table just enough to watch rain spatter on the restaurant's back windows. Odd how he could be in the midst of his friends, eating good food and listening to interesting talk, and still feel like something was missing.

Not something,
he thought.
Someone.

He surveyed his friends fondly. Jamie Makepeace, small, blond and excitable; Jamie's boyfriend, Ben Gallagher, tall, dark and amused; Tristan Marcus, pretty as a doll with her crooked smile and big, brown eyes; and Aidan Reznik, a recent addition to their group that Jamie had known from an old job three years before. He fit in well, though, and didn't mind being the token straight guy when Tristan's husband was away.

So who's not here?
Dune thought, and knew the answer. There were plenty of other people who would be welcome and loved at this table today; but the only one that would make this gathering complete was five thousand miles away and wouldn't be back until September.

Tristan leaned over and touched his hand. "You're quiet today," she said, pitching her voice low to carry under Jamie's conversation with Aidan about a magazine interview he'd given earlier that day. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, of course," Dune said. "I'm fine. I got a puzzling phone call this morning, though -- two phone calls, actually. Both from Micah."

"Oh? How is he?"

"I can't tell," Dune said. "In the first message he sounded like he was about to cry and he said he really needed to talk to me. And then in the second he said never mind, he'd overreacted, everything was fine."

"That sounds like Micah," said Ben from across the table. "Changing his mind every five minutes and expecting Dune to clean it up for him."

"Don't be unkind, Benjie," Tristan said, and he grinned at her.

"I don't mind him calling me," Dune said. "I like knowing that he's okay. I'm sure he and Lucas had a spat of some kind and it blew over."

"I'm sure you're right," Tristan soothed him as Aidan and Jamie finished laughing over the interview. Aidan started sipping his drink, then put his glass down and stood.

"There's my girl. I'll be right back." He went to the front of the restaurant.

The rest of them watched him go. As Aidan took the coat of a slim, brunette girl and walked back to their table with his arm around her shoulders, Ben said, "Isn't that
 
--"

"That's Shiloh. That's Micah's little sister," Jamie said, looking shocked, and the three of them all had to look again while Tristan sipped her water.

"You knew about this," Dune said to her, and Tristan smiled.

"She's not exactly the type to confide in her boss, so all I know for certain is they met at the store." Micah had arranged the job: when Shiloh started school she'd wanted a job in the city so she could help with expenses, and Tristan's parents had adored her when she interviewed for their bookstore.

"She's just a kid," Ben said.

Dune said, "She's been attending UCSF for two years now."

"Smarter than Aidan's usual type," Jamie remarked, and by then Aidan and Shiloh had joined them.

"Jamie!" she exclaimed and hugged him when he stood. "I haven't seen you in forever. How are you?"

"I'm good," he said with genuine pleasure. "I'm really good. You remember Ben, my boyfriend?"

"Of course, hi," Shiloh said, shaking Ben's hand, and he smiled at her with more warmth than he'd ever shown her brother.

"And you know Tristan and Dune, of course," Aidan said, his hand on her back.

"I do. Hi, Dune. Hi, Tris." The resemblance between herself and Micah was almost spooky: they had the same generous mouths, big blue eyes, and surprisingly strong jaws for people with features so fine.

"Hi, sweetie," Dune said, and there was some shuffling of chairs so Shiloh could sit next to Aidan, who looked proud and pleased to have her there.

The last time Dune had seen Shiloh had been just before Micah left for Europe and Shiloh had been mousy and quiet, her eyes hidden behind black-framed glasses and her body under long-sleeved shirts and loose-fitting jeans. Something -- Dune suspected it was Tristan's influence -- had inspired Shiloh to get her hair cut short to show off her pixie-like face, to get contacts, to dress in a way to showcase her small, slender body.

Looking at her made Dune miss Micah even more and he sighed. And he couldn't even talk to her about what was going on with Micah: no matter how much he loved his family, Micah had no intention of coming out to them, and Dune doubted Shiloh knew any more than he did about why Micah might have called him that morning.

"So where's Laird tonight?" Dune asked Tristan after the waiter had taken their orders.

"Geneva," Tristan said and sipped her drink. "He's giving a speech about chemotherapy research, I think. Oh, I'm not even sure. He tells me what he'll be presenting and I just smile and nod a lot and wonder how I managed to marry a guy twenty times smarter than I am."

"Because you're cute," Dune said and laughed when she scowled at him -- cutely, of course. "And he's not twenty times smarter than you are. He just has different interests."

"You're nice, Dune," she said affectionately.

"I do my best."

Tristan hesitated a moment before she spoke again. "And where's Daniel? He hasn't come to one of these in ages. I thought for sure he'd be here today."

Dune swallowed his wine before he answered. "He's got a deadline for the comic book."

"Who's Daniel?" Shiloh said.

"My
 
--" Dune paused. Boyfriend wasn't quite the right word. "My usual date." Though he hadn't been for a while now, and Dune couldn't remember if it was because he hadn't asked Daniel to come along or if Daniel had been too busy to join them.

"I see," Shiloh said with a small nod. "Will you pass me the bread basket?"

Dune passed, happy to let the subject drop.

"Oi, Dune," Jamie said from the other end of the table. "I understand you're the only one who's heard from Micah lately."

"I brought post cards, in case anyone wanted to read them," Dune said, and took them out of his inner jacket pocket to pass them down the table. "Or try to read them." Micah's postcard selection was not terribly original: he'd sent a Big Ben postcard from London, one of a thatched cottage from Dublin, and one of the chalk cliffs from Dover. Dune expected he'd send the Eiffel Tower from Paris and a post card of Vatican City from Rome. "He sends me a new one from every city."

"I just get emails," Shiloh said, taking one from Tristan. "Oh, his writing just gets worse and worse."

Aidan laughed at the sight of Micah's scrawled handwriting. "Good Lord, you're not kidding. It's like cryptography."

"Comes from too much typing," Dune said. "Adam -- my father's partner," he added for Shiloh's sake, "his handwriting is the same way. I think that one says he's having a great time in London and he thinks England is fantastic. Either that or he's having lunch with a goose and a fascist. I can't tell."

"I miss him," Shiloh said, giving the post card to Jamie.

"So do I," Dune said quietly.

***

When lunch was over, Aidan helped Shiloh into her coat, and said, "I was thinking of catching a matinée -- would any of you like to come?"

"That sounds great," Jamie said.

"I can't," Shiloh said regretfully. "I'm meeting somebody in about half an hour."

Aidan widened his eyes at her and teased, "You have another date the same day as me? Ouch!"

Shiloh laughed and patted his arm. "The boys will take care of you. See you all later." She gave them a friendly wave and, pulling the hood of her coat over her head against the rain, took off down the street.

As soon as she was out of earshot and the five of them started walking in the opposite direction to the nearest parking garage, Aidan said, as, "Okay. I know you all have been dying to say something. Out with it."

With a shrug, Ben said, "She's a nice girl. I like her more than that last one, the blond who always wore tie-dye. What was her name?"

"Cynthia," Jamie said. "Well, I approve. But you know what you're in for with her parents, yeah?"

"Yeah, I know," Aidan said with a small sigh.

"Then you're more prepared than I was."

"She's an infant," Dune said.

"She's twenty," Aidan replied.

Holding Dune's arm as they walked huddled beneath a shared umbrella, Tristan said, "She's a good girl. She's super-nice to our customers, she studies hard, she works hard -- she is pretty young, though. Dune's right about that."

"I know there's an age difference," said Aidan. "But I hardly notice it. She's not like any other girl I know. It's so nice to date somebody I can actually talk to. And you'd think, knowing her background, that she'd be a lot more uptight than she is."

"Careful," Dune said. "Without Micah around I'm a surrogate big brother and may feel it necessary to defend her honor." Though, he supposed, it would be against Shiloh's will if he actually tried to defend her. Aidan had the kind of dark, dangerous good looks that girls seemed to like, and all teasing aside, he was a good guy.

Aidan snorted. "Oh, I haven't done anything to her honor. Relax."

"Oh, boys," Tristan said. "I think I'm going to skip the movie. Thanks for asking, though. Dunie, will you walk me to my car? Unless you were planning on seeing the movie."

"I wasn't," Dune said, and there were a few minutes of kisses and handshakes and promises to call later, and then he and Tristan were on their own. "Something's on your mind," Dune said.

"Yes. Something I don't quite know how to approach."

"Just fumble in. That usually works for me."

"Okay. Fumbling. You used to date Laird's brother, Gavin, didn't you?"

"Oh. Him." Dune watched their feet as they walked up the stairs.

"I was visiting Laird's grandmother yesterday, and she had some pictures of Gavin from when he was in college. You were in them."