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feels about surprises."
They did indeed. Peter had to admit it was a part of the
reason why they'd come without calling ahead. Harry'd
become far too controlled and set in his ways.
"I know." Samuel took another quick, hard hug. "But like
Peter said, we're close enough now to take advantage of the
good weather, and I have to admit, spending the afternoon
chatting with you both sounded perfect."
"It does. And Harry'll be fine. Come on outside; you
haven't seen my yard yet this summer, have you?" Jase
linked one arm through Samuel's, the other through Peter's.
They looked relaxed together; the two had been friends
since college, the sorts of friends Peter had once not believed
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himself able to make. It was incredibly convenient that he
had and that that friend had been Harry.
"What kind of cookies did you make me, Sammy?" Jase
asked as he led them out the French doors onto the deck.
"Oatmeal raisin with these lovely cinnamon chips. They're
luscious and melty. And there's black forest ham sandwiches
with olive tapenade, the prettiest red grapes, and this
amazing cheese we found in the city."
"Oh, you're going to spoil us, Sammy. If you're not careful
you'll have Harry over three times a day for meals." Jase
shifted the large umbrella, changing the angle so it shaded
the table.
"Peter would enjoy that, but our food budget wouldn't."
Sammy chuckled, pinking as Harry's laugh answered him.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Jase keeps me fed we just go for good
and lots rather than fancy."
Peter went over to the counter built into the deck, finding
the corkscrew in the drawer. He leaned against the counter as
he worked the bottle open, watching Jase and Harry together.
Jase was fussing a little more than usual, showing Harry to
a chair, hand sliding along Harry's arm. Harry sighed, patting
Jason's hand, the look fond, a little frustrated, and more than
a little tired. Peter'd bet his bottom dollar Harry wasn't
sleeping well again.
Maybe he and Sammy could do something to help with
that. He didn't know what, and he'd bet that dollar again that
Harry wouldn't knowingly let them, but, still, just maybe
there was something.
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The cork came out, and he brought the bottle over as
Sammy pulled wine glasses out of the picnic basket. "So
how's work been, Harry?"
"Work. Things are moving along. We had a truck stopped
and we got four kilos of heroin. Made the mayor all puffy and
proud."
He poured the wine, including a glass for Harry, even
though he knew the man never drank anymore. The red had
been Harry's favorite wine, though, before the attack. He sat
next to Harry, grinning as Jase settled in Harry's lap, cuddling
in.
Harry handed Jason a glass, leaving the other untouched.
"What all have you been up to this weekend."
"Busman's holiday. I took Sammy to the yard sales at the
crack of dawn."
Jase chuckled, sipping at his wine. "Did you find anything
good?"
"Nothing for the store, but Sammy found a few things."
And he'd found a luscious hairbrush with a wide wooden back
that would make a wonderful paddle.
"There was a lovely pale vase you should have seen it
Jase, you would have loved it. They wanted altogether too
much for it, though..." He chuckled as the boys got to talking.
After so many years of listening to Samuel, Jason knew
almost as much about antiques as he did.
"So how are you really?" he asked softly, not disturbing
the conversation between Jason and Samuel.
"Fine."
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He shook his head, grinned. Harry's answers were always
the same. "You look tired."
"It's been a hard couple days." Harry's eyes traveled
toward the shed and the little copse of flowering trees.
He followed Harry's gaze and decided he could still read his
old friend, and if he couldn't, well, a wander around the
garden wouldn't hurt him any. "Hey, I bet you guys have a
great mower. We still need one you want to show me what I
should be in the market for?"
"Sure." Harry slid from under Jason without disturbing
their conversation, heading to grab a bottle of water before
leading him down the yard. "I got one from Sears, it isn't bad
at all."
"Yeah? I'll probably hire someone," he admitted with a
grin.
"Hell, I could run over and do it for you, man. I don't
mind." Harry grinned back, walked around the shed to where
two old, sagging lawn chairs sat. Someone hid out here a lot.
"That would be great, Harry." He knew Harry wouldn't
have offered if he hadn't meant it.
He sat in one of the chairs, finding it more comfortable
than he'd expected, given its state.
Harry eased down in the chair, eyes drooped closed under
the ancient gimme cap, long legs sprawled out. "Oh, that's
nice."
"It's quiet back here. Like we're in our own little world."
"Mmmhmm. I can just about see y'all's house if I stretch."
Peter noted Harry wasn't stretching.
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And his curiosity and concern for his friend had about run
its course on patience. He was ready for Harry to talk. He
knew that poking too hard wasn't the way to do it, though, so
he just sat and waited.
"A guy at work says that they have pills now where you
sleep and don't dream any. You think that can be true?"
"I think if you don't dream, you die. I imagine the pills
keep you from remembering your dreams." He couldn't
imagine the nightmares that might keep Harry awake. And
that was before you took his ... ordeal into account.
"That would suck the dying, not the not remembering."
Harry looked over, lips twitching a little. "They're coming up
for parole. I haven't told Jason." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]