(Blue Notes 2)The Melody Thief (26 page)

“For two years, I told myself it was nothing. That he was depressed. That it would pass. I did nothing.”

“But it wasn’t your fault—”

“No. The drinking wasn’t my fault. I realize that now. But you have to understand, Cary. I
saw
all these things, and I did
nothing
. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t try to stop him.” Antonio brushed the spot where the scar began on the side of his body. “He died because I let him drive. I believed him when he said he was fine.” He turned away once more, but this time Cary pulled him back and wiped away his tears with his fingers.

“I spent more than a month in the hospital and six months in rehab,” he continued, his voice now a detached monotone. “The driver and passengers in the other car survived. I think if they hadn’t….”

Antonio shook his head, then added in an undertone, “I asked you once what it was about music that you loved so much.”

Cary nodded.

“When I was in the hospital, music kept me going. I know it sounds strange, but I think it saved my life. It was the only thing that seemed to make sense to me. To give me comfort.”

Something in Antonio’s words resonated with Cary, and he began to cry. How many times had he thought the same thing?

“I still don’t see how you can blame yourself,” Cary said after a moment.

He had expected to be interrupted again, but Antonio only shook his head. “I
knew
he needed help, but when he told me I was wrong—that he was fine—I should have done something. Instead, I closed my eyes. And I hated myself.”

“You think John is an alcoholic.” The minute Cary spoke the words, he knew they were true.

“What do
you
believe, Cary?”

“I… I…,” he stammered. “I’m not sure what to believe.”

“Have you asked him why he left your mother?”

“No.” It was true, Cary reasoned. He hadn’t asked, even if he’d heard the answer.

“He told me the same thing he told you when you first met him. About how difficult life was for them around the time you were born. But he also told me your mother said he was an alcoholic. And he denied it.”

So
that
was the part of the conversation I missed.

Cary remembered the beer that had disappeared so quickly, the smell of cognac in John’s coffee, the chewing gum, the nights John would disappear to “take a walk” and come back smelling of stale cigarettes and booze, then explain it away by saying the café had been smoky.

“Even if it’s true, what am I supposed to do about it?” He knew he sounded like a child, but he couldn’t help himself. “I’m worried about him.”

“I know. And you should tell him that. Talk to him.”

“And then what?”

“I can’t tell you what to do. I
won’t
tell you what to do.” Cary relaxed a little as Antonio held him tighter. “I know you want me to.”

Cary laughed. “You know me too well.”

Antonio’s eyes glittered in the fading light from outside. “And I know you love me.”

“Yeah. You’re right.”

Oh God. When did things get so difficult?

“Thanks,” Cary said after he kissed the rest of Antonio’s tears away.

“For what?”

Cary smiled up at Antonio. “For letting me decide. And for loving me.”

Chapter 23

C
HOOSING
S
IDES

“
Y
OUR mother lied. I don’t deny I drank, but I’m not an alcoholic and I never
have
been. Have you ever seen me drunk?”

“No,” Cary said, “but—”

“Where is this coming from, Cary? Have I done something to upset you?”

“No. I’m just wor—”

“Then why would you even ask me about this?” John’s eyes were fixed on his, and Cary felt suddenly very small—like a petulant child deserving to be chastised.

“I… I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I just want to understand what happened between you and Mom.”

The noise in the restaurant seemed at once louder, more strident to Cary’s ears. He wished Antonio were here with him. As angry and confused as he was, Antonio’s quiet strength would have made this entire conversation so much easier.

No. Tonino was right. This is something I have to do on my own.

John Redding sighed and replaced his glass of wine on the table. “I’ve already told you what happened, son. Obviously Antonio has been taking my words out of context.”

“I think he’s concerned, that’s all. So am I.”

“Has it occurred to you that maybe he has a reason to interpret what I’ve said in a particular way?”

“What?” Cary frowned and bit his lower lip. “I don’t understand.”

“All I’m saying is maybe he has a reason to make it sound as though I have a problem.”

“Why? Why would he do that?” It wasn’t like Antonio, he told himself.

“I think he knows I want you to come home with me when I leave on Sunday. To the States.”

“With you?” Cary forgot to breathe. Antonio had said nothing about this when they had spoken the night before. “But my home is here….”

“Just hear me out,” John said as he refilled their wine glasses. “I’m not suggesting you leave for good, but we both know I can’t stay here. There’s no work for me in Europe.”

“But you could work remotely,” Cary protested. “Lots of people do that these days.”

“We both know Antonio doesn’t want me to stay.” Until that moment, Cary had thought he was impervious to the power of words, or at least thick-skinned enough that the pain was tolerable. But these words—John’s words—hurt more than anything he had ever experienced before. Even worse, it was the truth. All along, Cary realized he had sensed this coming, and now….

Please don’t make me choose between you.

It was the first time he had realized that what was lurking around the next darkened corner was true pain. It didn’t matter if he stayed or if he left; either way, he would lose.

“I think Antonio’s just—”

“He’s jealous. He’s afraid of losing you. He said it himself.”

Is that true? Is he afraid? But there’s no real choice here, is there? I can’t lose
him
, no matter what. I just can’t….

“This is my home, John. I can’t leave. I love him. I love Massi. They’re my family too.”

“You know I’d never judge you,” John said. “I only want what’s best for you. But what happens when things get rough? You can’t get married to him. And Massimo isn’t yours; he never will be. What happens when you grow apart? He leaves with Massimo and you’re all alone. What happens then—”

“No.” Cary stood up abruptly, knocking over his wine glass. The red liquid ran over the tablecloth and splashed onto his shirt. He didn’t care. “I want to know you better, John. I want a relationship with you. I really do. But I can’t—I
won’t
—leave Tonino.”

He pulled a few large bills out of his pocket and set them down on the restaurant table. He wasn’t hungry anymore, and he couldn’t sit here, not after all that had been said. He needed to think. He needed Antonio so badly it hurt.

“I’ll see you back at the apartment later, John,” he said, striding away from the table even as he spoke the words. “I’m sorry. Really, I am.”

C
ARY leaned over the balcony railing. He didn’t realize that he was gripping the metal so tightly until he saw his knuckles were white. He stood there, shivering in the cool evening air, for nearly an hour after vomiting up what little food he had eaten at lunch. Antonio hadn’t been home. Had he said he had a dinner appointment? Cary couldn’t remember now, his thoughts were so scattered after the conversation with John.

Antonio? Jealous of his father?

It’s not true, and you know it. You know him.
Is Tonino afraid to lose me?

There was something that rang true in John’s words. And Massimo. Was John right? If Antonio left him—and God knew he wasn’t the best catch, with his traveling and his past history—would that be it?

Stop it! You don’t need a fucking marriage certificate to make a relationship permanent.
They had committed to each other, hadn’t they?
Tonino isn’t leaving.

The glass doors behind him opened. “Hey, you,” Cary said as he turned around.

“You okay?” asked Antonio.

Cary nodded.

“Want to talk about it?”

Cary let out a long breath. “He asked me to come back with him. To New York.”

“Oh.”

For a moment Cary stared at Antonio, stunned at his response.

“That’s
it
?” he said at last. “Just ‘oh’? Maybe you should just say ‘ciao’ and be done with it.”

“No,” Antonio said, obviously struggling. “Not that. Never. But I don’t want to—”

“Tell me what you want, Tonino.” Cary’s voice broke. “Don’t just stand there and tell me you don’t want to interfere. Tell me, dammit. Tell me what you want. I need to know.”

I need to know you want me to stay.

Antonio’s eyes filled with tears. “Please,” he whispered. “Don’t leave. I don’t know what I’d do if you left.”

Cary swallowed hard, then took Antonio in his arms and embraced him tightly. “I’m not leaving.” He was surprised at how his voice didn’t waver when he said it.

“Oh, caro…,” Antonio whispered against his ear. “You don’t know how much I hoped you’d say that.”

“Then tell me.”

“It means everything that you’ll stay. Everything.”

“I could never leave you, Tonino. I realized that tonight. You and Massi… you’re my life and my home. You’re what inspires me.”

“You already decided, didn’t you?” Antonio asked, pulling back and searching Cary’s face.

“Yeah, I guess I had. I just didn’t realize it.” Was this him talking? Bang-Me-in-the-Bathroom Redding? The man who had sworn over and over that he didn’t want a relationship? The man who hated kids? When had he changed? Why hadn’t he noticed?

“Somehow,” Cary continued, his mind a whirl of thoughts, “hearing you say you wanted me to stay… I guess I needed to hear you say that to know for sure. I know it’s stupid, but I worry… you know… that I’m selfish, and maybe you’ll figure it out and—”

Antonio’s kiss was crushing, and every thought in Cary’s mind fled with the onslaught of emotion the kiss evoked.

“Will you come with me? To visit him in New York?” he asked a moment later, still in Antonio’s embrace. “I’ve got a concert in August at Lincoln Center. I still want to see John again.”

“Of course.” Antonio looked at him with something approaching admiration. “I’d love to. And maybe we can bring Massi this time. He keeps asking about coming to hear you play. He’s never been to New York, and he’s out of school then.”

“Really?” Cary nearly bounced up and down, but he stopped himself when he realized he was acting just like Massimo might. “Because I could get tickets to a Yankees game, and we could take him to the Bronx Zoo, and—”

Another kiss.

“Stop that,” Cary chastised with a sloppy grin.
As if I want him to stop!

“Not happening.” Antonio kissed him again. “Ever.”

“I love you, you romantic Italian fool.”

“Isn’t it about time to get ready for dinner?”

“Dessert before dinner,” Cary announced as he dragged Antonio inside and toward their bedroom. “We’ve got about two hours before Roberta and Massi get back from Francesca’s.”

Antonio grinned outright as Cary took him by the hand and led him inside to their bedroom. Cary closed the door behind them, seated Antonio on the bed, and stood in the middle of the room, facing him.

“Tell me what you want.”

“What?” Antonio asked with obvious surprise.

“Tell me what you want me to do.” Cary looked at Antonio in silent challenge.

“I don’t need—”

“Tell me what you want me to do to you.” Cary wasn’t angry; he knew this was difficult for Antonio. “I don’t want to guess. I want to hear it. Tell me, Tonino. How do you want me to make love to you?”

Antonio did not immediately respond, but Cary could see understanding in his eyes. “Take your shirt off,” he said, his voice a sensual undertone.

Cary complied in silence. “What now?” he asked.

Antonio took a deep breath and appeared to consider the question. He leaned back against the pillows. “Come closer to the bed,” he said at last. “And take your clothes off. Slowly. I want to look at you.”

“Shit, Tonino, I—”

“You told me to ask for what I want.”

Cary said nothing but pulled his shirt over his head. He waited until he saw the look of approval in Antonio’s eyes, then trailed his hand down his belly to the button on his jeans. He was already hard in anticipation. He was also a little embarrassed. Bang-Me-in-the-Bathroom Redding was self-conscious about his body. It was a surprise.

“I’m waiting. I told you to take all your clothes off.”

Holy shit.
Cary unzipped his jeans and pushed them down, along with his briefs, then stepped out of them and stood at the foot of the bed. Waiting. For a moment, Antonio said nothing, just bit his lip. Cary tried to relax, but every muscle in his body was screaming to be fucked and his cock stood at attention.