California Dreaming

Chapter 1 When I’d left California more than ten years ago, I hadn’t expected to be gone for so long. I’d needed to get away, yeah, but I’d thought I would be back. Maybe in a year or two. But that year or two turned into three, four, and then ten years had passed. By that time, I hadn’t thought I’d ever go back. Then I got the call. Middle-of-the-night calls were never good. I was sound asleep, lying on my stomach, face down on my pillow, when the phone sitting on my bedside table screeched to life. My heart pounded as I came almost instantly wide awake. The clock beside the phone declared it was two thirty. Snatching the receiver of my landline phone, I tried to steady my breathing. “Yeah?” “Mickey?” My sister Raine’s voice, raspy and thick with tears. No one had called me Mickey since I left California. It had been a family thing. I rarely spoke to family now. “Yes.” “It’s-it’s Joe,” she choked out, barely understandable. I scrubbed a hand over my face. Joe Allen was Raine’s husband and once upon a time my boyfriend. All those years ago. Joe and Raine were the reasons I’d left in the first place. Had he left her? I wouldn’t have been altogether surprised by that. Or anything Joe did, really. “What about Joe?” I asked. “Mickey, he’s dead.” She started sobbing. I swung my legs out of the bed, to the carpeted floor of my bedroom. I turned on the lamp by the bed. My lungs squeezed in my chest, but I wasn’t really sure I had even processed what she’d said. “What?” “Car accident,” she whispered. “Can you…can you come?” “I—” “Mickey, please? Please? I need you.” She sounded so broken. How could I refuse her? Even after all these years, after all these hurts, I could not. “Yeah, okay.” I exhaled slowly. “I’ve gotta make the arrangements. Talk to work.” “Okay.” Raine hiccupped. “I’ll call you later and tell you what’s going on. All right?” “Okay,” she said again. “How are the kids?” The kids I’d never even met. Another quiet gasp. “Not good. I’m not even sure they understand. I don’t think I do.” I closed my eyes. “All right. I’m gonna come. I’ll call you later.” “Thank you, Mickey.” “Yeah. Talk soon. Bye, Raine.” “Bye.” I placed the receiver back on the cradle of the phone and then buried my face in my hands. Joe dead? It didn’t seem possible. I’d known Joe most of my life growing up in Southern California. As I made the discovery I was gay and did some experimentation with my best friend, Joe realized he was bisexual. By the time high school ended, we were a happy couple and I was basking in my first openly recognized relationship. Or so I thought. A year into college, Joe had come to me and told me he’d fallen in love with a woman. It was quite the bombshell. The second bombshell was that it was my twin sister, Raine. Joe explained they hadn’t meant for it to happen, but they’d been in a study group for one of their college courses and had begun to spend a lot of time together. All they’d done was kiss, but now that they’d done that, Joe knew he had to tell me and end things between us. The day after their wedding, I’d left California. My first stop had been Chicago, but I found it too cold for my liking, and I’d moved to Florida, where I lived now. Letting out a steadying breath, I rose from the bed and reached down to straighten the covers. Though it was still the middle of the night, too early to contact anyone from the law firm I worked for, I wouldn’t get to sleep again. I hit the shower, standing under the warm spray until my skin wrinkled. When I finished, I dressed in jeans and a T-shirt and headed out to the kitchen to make coffee. Raine and Joe had two kids during their ten-year marriage, Summer and Autumn. My sister had always been something of a free spirit. She’d sent me their pictures when they were born, four and six years ago, and also dutifully in her Christmas cards that I never reciprocated. I wondered what they’d think of their Uncle Mick. After pouring cream into my coffee, I carried it to the sofa in the living room where I’d left my tablet the night before. I composed a note to my best friend, Zach. I’d met Zachary Covington in Chicago, where we’d both attended law school. Zach and I had a lot in common, including both of us being gay. We’d clerked at the same firm during the summer months and been hired as associates there once we’d passed the bar. When Zach applied for and got a job at a new firm in Miami, I’d gone with him. It never occurred to either of us that it might be odd. Some of our friends jokingly called us Lucy and Ethel, and it didn’t occur to us to be offended. Of course it was more like Lucy and Ethel if Ethel had a thing for Lucy. I e-mailed him about the death of my sister’s husband and that I’d be going back to California. Of course Zach knew about Joe. Zach knew everything. I didn’t know why I insisted on referring to him as my sister’s husband. I hit Send and then started researching flights. Only fifteen minutes later my cell phone sprang to life with Zach’s picture. Zach was six-two and gorgeous, really, getting his looks from his mother’s Italian heritage with bushy brows over brown eyes and hair so dark it was nearly black. The pic I’d assigned to him on my phone was one of him drinking a cocktail, his dark gaze smoldering. My pulse raced as it always did when he called. “Hey, Z.” “You okay, Mick?” “I don’t know. Is anyone ever okay getting that kind of call in the middle of the night?” “Probably not. Want me to come over?” I smirked a little, even though he couldn’t see me. “Aren’t you with Thad or Brad or Cad?” “I can send him home. It’s no big deal.” “Nah, I’m all right. Just trying to make the flight stuff.” “Make it for two.” “What? Zach, you don’t have to come with me.” “I do, too. I can’t let you go to Cali by yourself. They might never let you leave. Besides, you’re gonna need a friendly face. I know how it is dealing with family.” He was right, of course. Zach was always right. “Are you sure?” I still asked. “Keller might not want to let both us have the time off.” “Oh, Keller can bite my ass.” Zach snorted. “Besides, she will. She’s not heartless.” “Okay, thanks.” I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. Just the sound of his voice warmed me so that the ice in the bit of my stomach began to thaw. “I’m coming over,” Zach announced. “No, really—” “I’m coming. I’ll make you breakfast. And make sure you have coffee. Lots of it.” I didn’t have the strength to argue, and really I didn’t want to. I wanted him there. With me. Like always. “Thanks, Z.” “What are friends for? Be there in a bit. Bye.” * * * * I had just finished typing Michael Lawler into the “passenger one” spot on the online airline-ticket form when there was a soft tapping on my front door. I rose from the sofa to open it for Zach. He was dressed in gray sweats and a red T-shirt. He was unshaven with a prominent bit of very dark five-o’clock shadow. I tried to ignore how my heartbeat ticked up at the sight of him. He smiled, and I melted into his arms. “It’s gonna be okay, Mick,” Zack said, patting my back affectionately. He only had two inches on me in height, but he had such a presence he always seemed to dwarf me. I stepped out of his arms with reluctance and opened the door wide for him to come inside. “Coffee on?” “Of course. I was just buying the airline tickets. You still coming?” He gave me a look like he thought I was nuts. “Have I changed my mind in the last forty minutes? No, you dolt. I’m coming. Keller will get over us both going at the same time.” Zach headed into the kitchen, and I heard him opening cabinets. I finished my information and then input Zach as the second passenger. “Waffles or pancakes?” Zach called. “Whatever’s easier.” “Picking up McDonald’s is easier. Pick one.” I sighed. “Pancakes.” “You want waffles, don’t you?” He stood in the doorway of my kitchen, hands on his hips. I tried not to devour him with my eyes, but it was damn hard not to. I didn’t want him to know. “That’s too much trouble, Z.” Zach rolled his eyes. “You want that bacon you got in there?” “That really is too much trouble.” “I’ll put it in the oven. It’s not any trouble. Okay, bacon and waffles. You want eggs?” “No. Yes. Kind of.” I laughed. Zach was a great cook, and it was hard to say no to anything he offered to make. I couldn’t deny I loved it when he took care of me. It was probably selfish. He smiled. “Then that’s what you’ll get.” “I love you, you know.” I made it sound like buddy love. Or I hoped so. Zach winked. “Who wouldn’t? Breakfast coming up.” * * * * After our very early breakfast, Zach had insisted on cleaning up the kitchen and I ended up falling asleep on the couch. When I woke up, he was sitting in the chair next to the couch, watching the news with the sound off. “Hey,” I mumbled, struggling to sit up. “How long was I asleep?” “A few hours. Want some more coffee?” “I probably should. I feel a little like a zombie.” I rubbed my neck and tilted it to the left until it cracked. “Couch isn’t the most comfortable place to sleep.” Zach got up and went into the kitchen. I followed him in. “I can get it. You don’t have to wait on me.” “I’m not waiting on you, Mick. I’m pouring you a cup of coffee.” He handed me the mug of coffee, and I went into the fridge for the creamer. I blinked several times and took a sip of the hazelnut brew. “What time is it?” “Seven thirty.” “God, Z, why’d you spend all this time with me? I didn’t mean to make you stay all bored while I conked out on you.” “You’re so dramatic,” he said with a smile. “It’s not like this is an everyday occurrence.” “Was Cad mad?” Not that I gave a s**t what his toys thought. I tried not to think about his string of lovers at all. But I cared if it bothered Zach. The toys could f**k off. Zach chuckled. “His name is Brad, and why in the hell should he be mad? It’s not like we have an exclusive thing going on. He knows you come before any f*****g. Besides, we were finished by the time I got your e-mail.” I peered at him over the rim of my coffee mug. “Why were you checking your e-mail in the middle of the night after f*****g Brad anyway?” Inwardly I winced, an image of Zach with some twink twisting my stomach. But Zach only shrugged. I scratched my stomach. “I think I need another shower.’ “So go for it. When you’re done we’ll call Keller.” * * * * When I came back into the living room after my second shower, Zach wasn’t there. Then I spotted him out in my backyard, cell phone to his ear and cigarette hanging from his mouth. And there it was. One of the few things I really f*****g hated about Zach. The damn smoking. I wondered whom he was speaking with. Whom he decided he had to call while he was over. Was it Brad or someone else he was f*****g? He stubbed out his cigarette and came back into the house via the sliding-glass door. “Okay, ready to call Keller?’ “Yeah, let me get my phone.” Zach waved this away. “I already have mine. I’ll call her.” I frowned. “You don’t need to do that. I can call her myself. I’m not incapable.” “Who the f**k said you were incapable?’ He rolled his eyes. “I just said I’d call.” He pushed a button on his phone. He placed it next to his ear. “Hey, it’s Covington. Is Keller there? Okay. On hold.” I nodded. “You pack your stuff?” Zach asked. “Not yet.” Our flight was in five hours, so I knew I had time. “Mary Kay! Zach Covington. Listen, I’m here with Mick Lawler, and his sister’s husband has died. Twin sister. Right. So, she’s asked him to go out to California for a bit. Well, that’s why I’m going with. Make sure he comes back.” Zach winked at me. “Not sure for how long. A week? Maybe less. Yeah, I’ll make sure we stay on top of our cases. That’s what e-mails and associates and paralegals are for. I’ll keep in touch. Thanks.” He lowered his cell phone and hit End. “All set.” “Thanks.” I felt absurdly grateful. It occurred to me for the second time that morning that Zach was always taking care of me, and maybe I shouldn’t find that so easy to love, but there it was. Pathetic attempt to grasp whatever attention and affection I could get from him? Probably. Zach ruffled my hair. “I’m gonna go home and get my stuff packed. You should do the same.” “Yeah.” I walked him to the door and gave him a quick hug. “Thanks. You’re the best.” He smiled and rubbed his thumb over the stubble of my jaw. “Nah, you are. See you soon.” I closed the door after him and locked it, too. I leaned my back against it and tried to calm my racing heart. It was probably wrong to lust after my best friend when my sister was grieving over her husband, who had once been my boyfriend, but, well, I couldn’t help it. It was something I had learned to hide, to bury deep, so no one, least of all Zach, would ever know. Finally having enough of my own self-indulgence, I straightened away from the door and went to pack my things.