“Wills…” But what could I have said?
“The couch was some neutral color. It looked expensive, but it didn’t look very comfortable. On the wall behind him was a painting in oils of the two of us in our caps and gowns. I recognized the way we were posed. You’ve seen the picture.”
“The one above the mantel in the family room in Cambridge?”
“Yeah, that’s it. Dad had taken it, and Michael must have asked him for a copy and had the painting made from it. I never thought…” He blew out a breath. “Anyway, the Michael on the tape stared into the camcorder’s lens, and it was like he was looking into my eyes. Something was wrong. Usually he was so cocksure, I wanted to kick his ass, but this time—He looked awful, Theo. His face was gray, and from time to time his knuckles would turn white as if he were trying to contain pain. He had cancer, he told me…prostate cancer. He was dying.”
“Oh, babe. I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you.”
“But isn’t that an older man’s disease?”
“Yeah. Pissed the hell out of him. He’d been to every specialist on the East Coast, and they all told him the same thing…it was a fast-growing motherfucker.”
“What about surgery? Radiation therapy? Chemotherapy?”
“I thought about that myself, but apparently he’d asked what his options were and was told none. At the time he made the tape, he was on Percoset. He said the pain wasn’t too bad, but I knew he was lying when he admitted he’d have to go on morphine soon.” Wills looked so sad. “He said…Never mind, that isn’t important. What he wanted me to know was that he’d been in love with me—”
Goddammit! I’d known that son of a bitch was going to pull shit like this.
“—but he couldn’t live with the thought of being called a fag, so he’d gone back to his girlfriend.”
“Would you…Wills, if he were still alive, would you have gone back to him?”
“What, now?” That seemed to shake him out of his grief. “Are you nuts?” His eyes narrowed. “Or are you trying to get rid of me?”
I smacked his shoulder. “Asshole. We’re engaged, in case it’s slipped your notice.”
“Okay, as long as we have that straight.”
“Hah ha.”
“Huh? Oh.” He smiled for the first time since I’d asked him why he hadn’t come home early, took my hand, and twined our fingers together.
“So what was the tape in aid of? Saying goodbye?” Making Wills feel guilty?
He was quiet for a few minutes, and I wondered what had been behind Michael sending Wills that tape. Finally, he said, “He asked me to put flowers on his grave.”
Jesus, is that maudlin or what? But again, I didn’t say that out loud.
“But after I’d watched the tape, I knew I had to let his parents know what had gone on the night Michael died. They couldn’t understand why he’d be so reckless as to confront whoever had entered his apartment. I’d told you that, hadn’t I? That his parents were told he’d been killed in a home break-in. No parent should know their son actually died with a noose around his neck while he jerked off.”
I rested my hand on his knee and nodded.
“This would give them some closure. So I drove to Williamsburg and spent the afternoon consoling them. Or trying to. I didn’t realize how the time had flown.” He scrubbed his face again. “I called to tell you I was on my way home, and I got that message. I didn’t know what was going on. And then when I finally got home, it was to find you were gone. And you’d set the CD player to repeat on ‘Goodbye to Love.'”
I’d hurt so badly, and all I wanted was to hurt him in turn. “I…uh…about the greeting on the answering machine…I changed it after I thought you’d cheated on me. I’m sorry, Wills.”
“No. Don’t you say that. You have nothing to be sorry for. If I hadn’t put Michael ahead of you…if I hadn’t been so concerned about his parents…They’re good people, but they’re not family.” He leaned toward me and cupped my cheek. “I swear I’ll never do that again, Theo. No matter what, you’ll come first.”
I turned my face and kissed his palm. “So you screwed up, and I screwed up. We’ll do better next time, won’t we?”
“You bet.”
“Now suppose we get back on the road? I want to get home and make love to my fiancé.” And we still had about five more hours.
“Great idea, babe.” And in spite of the fact that we could be seen, if anyone cared to look, Wills urged me closer and kissed me.
Wills made good time, and he was about to merge onto the 395, when he said, “I want to return the vase to the florist and have a talk with the proprietor.”
I’d been thinking dreamily of our wedding, and those words brought me to the present with a start. “I’m sure the switched cards were just a mistake.”