Refuge

Chapter 4

Chapter 4“Oh, my sweet boy,” Ted said, patting Henley’s shoulder while they hugged. “You did the right thing. I’m so proud of you. Six years is too long for a man to wait. Now, come on, my boy. Chin up.” Uncle Ted pushed on him a little and grabbed his face in his wrinkled hands, peering at him from behind his gold-rimmed spectacles. “You deserve better than that hotshot lawyer. Love will find you. I saw it in the tea leaves last night.”

“Really?” He was so desperate for someone to love, someone to build a future with, that he was willing to believe in astrology, numerology, tea leaves, or the reading of chicken entrails. Last night, he’d turned away the only man who’d ever truly shown any interest in him. What would he do now? He was terrible at meeting new people. Too shy. Too much of an introvert. Too boring.

“Yes, Henley. Love with a capital L.” Uncle Ted pushed the porcelain teacup into his hand. “You’re entering a new phase of your life. Everything is going to change very dramatically. I had a premonition last night. A black dog visited me in my dreams. I played with it.” Uncle Ted’s gaze got blurry, as though he was about to cry. “It came to tell me I was ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“A great change.”

“Are you okay?” Henley frowned, searching his great-uncle’s face.

“I am, my dear.” Ted pressed his hand to Henley’s face. “I am.”

Henley looked around the dimly lit and over packed antique store, seeing the dust dance in the September morning light. The store wasn’t open yet and he had his great-uncle all to himself. “Are you sure?” he insisted.

“Yes, come on, let’s sit.”

They sat around one of the beautifully crafted tables on display. Ted was in his lavender colored cardigan, his white hair cut short and parted to the side, looking dashing as usual, even at eighty-three years old.

Henley was in his blue jeans and black sweater, feeling edgy and lost. “Last year Gabriel promised me we’d move in together after he was made partner at the firm.”

“And you believed him.” Ted poured more tea into Henley’s cup.

He had. Henley swallowed the lump in his throat along with the tea. “Then he started dating, um, that legal clerk, Audrey, I think her name is.” He glanced up. “But he would always tell me how different it was with me. How perfect it felt. How much he missed me.”

“You’re so young. You still have so much to learn.” Uncle Ted squeezed his hand on the table. He wore his many gold rings. One for every finger, except the ring finger which he always left bare in memory of the love he’d lost. “But this, you’ve learned. And you won’t have to learn it again. Isn’t that wonderful? This rotten feeling you have, you’ll never have to have it again. It’s a gift to learn it so young, don’t you think?” His great-uncle’s violet-blue eyes went a little cloudy again and Henley suspected Ted was thinking of Roger, the man he’d loved for thirty years without ever being able to openly share his life with him. That had been a long time ago. More than four decades had passed since Roger had chosen to marry their friend Lauren and end their affair, but the pain remained buried in his great-uncle’s heart. Ted had never loved again, at least not for long, and had been single for the last thirty years.

That seemed so unfair. And so sad.

“Remember when you came out to me, Henley? How nervous you were? How much you feared your father’s rejection?”

He’d been seventeen then and Uncle Ted had shown him the letters he and Roger had written to each other over the years. Henley had taken those letters home with him that night and read them all in one sitting. He’d known then that he would strive for that kind of love. That he was a romantic, in spite of how hard he tried to hide it.

“Henley, I’ve watched you grow into a beautiful, thoughtful man, and my only wish, before I leave this world, is to see you happy, which I know you’re not.”

“I’m not unhappy, Uncle Ted,” he quickly said, sitting up, hoping his uncle would believe him. Ted had his own troubles with the store teetering on bankruptcy and his health fading every day since his last stroke. “I’m just a little lost, I guess. Having to move out of the house, ending things with Gabriel…”

“That house is a cocoon. You’re the butterfly.”

Henley snorted a laugh. “That is so tacky.” He leaned back in his seat with a sigh. “I’m ready for something, but I don’t know what.”

“You’ll know it when it hits you, darling.” Ted pinched his cheek. “Until then, keep your eyes open and your heart, too.” He turned serious and lolled his head, watching him. “Why don’t you move to Ottawa? Put that degree to use? Your father is waiting patiently for you to make up your mind. You could have a brilliant career, Henley. Carry the Fredrikson torch. There’s nothing for you here.”

“That’s why I have to stay,” he said, the words revealing a truth in himself he hadn’t seen or acknowledged until now. “Here, I can create my own life out of nothing. But in Ottawa, everything is waiting for me. I only have to slip into the suit and shoes they hand me and read the lines on the script they wrote.”

Uncle Ted nodded, his whole handsome face lighting up. “I just needed to hear you say it.”

“What about you? Why don’t you take my parents up on their offer? They have a whole floor ready for you in their home. Private care. It could be like your own posh hotel.”

Ted winked at him and with effort, slowly got out of his chair. He grabbed his fancy cane, the one with the dog’s head as a handle, and ambled to the front door where he turned over the sign in the window. The store was officially open.

“Okay, I get it,” Henley said, walking up to him and putting his hands on his frail shoulders. “You don’t want the scripted life either.” He peered over Ted’s white head at the street. It was Saturday morning, not a soul in sight on Sherbrooke Boulevard. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow afternoon?” he asked, opening the door. “Cards and dinner? Tarot or…?”

“No, not tarot. Cards Against Humanity, and brandy, of course.” Ted stood in the light, his face looking younger suddenly. He’d been a devastatingly beautiful man in his youth. Had he wasted it? Did he have regrets?

Henley realized then, he didn’t want to end up so lonely.

“Thank you, Uncle Ted,” he said, pressing his uncle’s shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

“Yes, my young prince.” Ted smiled a gentle, almost dreamy smile, and retreated into the shadows in his store. His safe zone. His shelter. Or was it a prison?

Outside, the weather was crisp and invigorating. A perfect early fall day. Henley looked up at the mountain. He’d walk home. Hike up the western slope. The long walk uphill would clear his mind and he had that whole new playlist on his phone to listen to. Feeling better than he had all week, he plugged in his earphones and crossed Sherbrooke Boulevard. He knew all the little detours and most beautiful scenic streets to take up to the house. This mountain had been his backyard all his life. Heart already pumping from the brisk pace he’d started at, Henley headed home.