The Way You Say My Name Ch. 13

“That’s because there was no relationship. Not since Ben came to Reed, anyway.” Nora sighed. “Poor Ben tried for weeks after he came here to get in touch with his brother, but Mitch refused all of Ben’s calls and letters. It was almost like Mitch was determined to cut Ben out of his life.” Nora clicked her tongue. “A real shame, that, especially since I got the feeling the two of them were pretty close at one time.”

Jamie slanted his eyes towards Dillon, giving him a wordless I-told-you-so. Everything Nora just said seemed to confirm Jamie’s suspicions. But what was Jamie supposed to do with the little bit of information he’d managed to gather? He still didn’t know where the rest of the money had come from, and he could hardly go to Brandon with a handful of half-formed theories and twenty-thousand dollars that came from God only knew where. Oh, shit. Brandon.

Jamie took a deep breath. “Uh, Nora, could you do me a favor?”

The genuine affection in Nora’s eyes made Jamie feel even guiltier than he already did. “Sure, honey. I’ll do anything I can for you. You know that.”

Jamie swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Could you, um, not mention my visit with Lily to the sheriff?”

Nora’s gaze sharpened. “Jamie, you’re not in any kind of trouble are you?”

“No, no. Nothing like that. It’s just that Brandon thinks I’m not dealing with Ben’s death all that well. He might, uh, worry, that’s all.” Jamie darted another quick glance in Dillon’s direction, daring him to argue.

Nora must not have seen it. Her voice held a slight quiver when she said. “I won’t tell him, sweetheart, but Brandon’s right when he says you have to move forward. Why do you think I’m selling the house?”

Until that moment, Jamie had been too wrapped up in the mystery surrounding Ben and his family to really comprehend the meaning behind the packing boxes and the misplaced furniture. Nora’s words brought it all home to him with startling clarity. “You’re selling your place? Why?”

Nora gave him a sad half-smile. “Because it’s time. I inherited this house from my first husband, Jack. He was killed in a boating accident not long after we married.” Jamie saw the tears forming in her eyes, but felt powerless to stop them as Nora continued. “I lived here with my second husband, Lyle, for five amazing years.” She took in a ragged breath and blinked away the wetness. “When colon cancer took Lyle from me, I thought seriously about selling, but by that time, the application Lyle and I had filled out together to become foster parents had been approved. I figured I’d just forget about it, but, according to the city of Reed, I was still considered a good choice to be a foster mom, even with Lyle gone. I’d just gotten my real estate license, so I was stable and employed.” Nora shook her head. “I’m sorry to say that with all the kids in the system these days, stable and employed are the two chief requirements. Love seems to have been pushed further down on the list.” The sad smile returned. “But love is the one thing I did have. I was bound and determined to take all the love I had stored in my heart from first Jack and then Lyle and spill it out onto as many foster children as the state would give me.” Nora chuckled. “Then the powers that be sent me Ben, and all those plans for more kids went right out the window.”

Dillon turned in his chair. “Why did taking Ben mean you couldn’t bring in more kids, too?”

“Because, Dillon, Ben was so damaged and hurt he needed all the love and attention I could give him. How could I possibly give him what he needed while trying to do the same thing for other kids?” Nora shook her head. “No. The minute I laid eyes on Ben, trying to look so tough even while he was dying on the inside from the abuse he’d suffered--” Her voice broke. “Anyway, the minute I saw him, I knew he’d be my only one. My only son.” Nora’s tears flowed freely. “I never minded, you know. Ben was all the family I needed. I know he had his faults, but I wouldn’t have traded him for ten kids, even if the other ten were my own blood kin.” Nora yanked at the hem of her shirt, using it to dry her eyes and furthering the smudges of dirt on her face. “But Ben is gone now, guys, and I can’t stay here mourning him forever.” She stood up and brushed herself off. “That’s why I’ve decided to sell. And that’s also why I’ve got to get a move on. The movers I hired will be here for some of the furniture any minute now.”

Jamie and Dillon stood as well, following Nora’s lead. Jamie could understand her reasoning, but Nora was special to him and always would be, mostly because of Ben. Jamie needed to know he wasn’t losing her, too. “You aren’t moving too far away, are you?”

Nora crossed the room in two long-legged strides and wrapped Jamie in a fierce hug. “And leave my second favorite guy in the whole world? Are you kidding?” Nora pulled back and chucked Jamie under the chin. “No way. I bought a condo on the far side of town. I’ll be no more than a ten minute drive away from your Aunt’s house.”

“A condo? You?” Somehow Jamie couldn’t picture free-spirited Nora sitting on a co-op board.

Nora swatted his arm. “Don’t sound so surprised. After years of selling the things, I finally bought one, is all. I can’t say I’m going to live there for the rest of my life, but for now, anyway, I think a condo is just what I’m looking for.”

Dillon stepped up to Jamie’s side. “When will this place go on the market?”

“It isn’t going to.”

Jamie stared at her in confusion. “So you aren’t selling it, then?”

Nora patted his cheek. “It’s already sold, Jamie. A few days ago, a guy came into my office looking for, and I quote, ‘A fixer-upper with plenty of room and a fair price.’” Nora glanced around the living room with its faded floral wallpaper and moth-eaten carpet. “Let’s face it, boys, I love this place, but it’s a fixer-upper if ever I saw one. I think Jack once told me it was wired back in the nineteen-forties. The poor guy who bought this house is going to have to bring it up to code before he and his people can even move in.”

Jamie drew his brows together. “His people? What is he, a rock star?”

Nora laughed. “No, honey. The man who bought it, a guy named Blake Mathis, is going to turn this house into a shelter for victims of domestic violence. His focus is going to be on gay men who’ve been abused by their partners, though he assures me women will be just as welcome.” Nora shook her head as she scanned the room one more time. “I admire what he’s trying to do, but he’s going to have his work cut out for him with this house. And he can’t even get started until I clear all my junk out, which is going to take a few more days. Ben and I used the two downstairs bedrooms, and I do have most of that stuff already boxed up, but I have an entire upstairs to clean out still. Oh, and that reminds me, Jamie, what about Ben’s things?”

It took Jamie a minute to catch on. “You mean the stuff from his room?”

“Yes. He left it all to you. I figured maybe you could pick Ben’s car up one day next week. I know you can’t drive, so I was hoping Dillon could come and get it for you. Maybe your Aunt Sadie or Dillon’s brother could drop him off and then he could drive it to your house. I’d drive it over myself, but I don’t know how to drive a stick shift.” Nora laughed. “My first husband tried to teach me. Total disaster. Since then, I’ve stuck with automatics. Anyway, I’ll load the boxes into the car and you can pick them up all at the same time.”

Jesus, Ben’s stuff. Jamie hadn’t even thought about going through that. He doubted Ben had left any outright evidence of blackmail in his room. If that had been the case, Jamie was almost certain Nora would have found it and turned it over to Bran. That didn’t mean that Ben hadn’t left some clue, though. The trick now was to get to Ben’s things as soon as possible without making Nora suspicious.

“Nora, Dillon and I could load that stuff up in Dillon’s car and take it now. That’ll save you from having to lug it around.”

Dillon must have been following Jamie’s train of thought because he chimed in with, “Yeah, Nora. If you’ll just tell me where it is, I can do that now.”

Nora waved them away, and Jamie’s hopes of going through Ben’s things anytime soon started to fade. “Don’t be silly, boys. It’s no trouble. Besides, none of the boxes are all that heavy. You can drop by sometime around the middle of next week. Oh, you can drive a stick, can’t you Dillon?”

Dillon nodded, and that was it. There was nothing Jamie could say from that point on without letting Nora know something was up. Jamie was simply going to have to wait it out. He only hoped there was something in Ben’s stuff that could help him. Jamie had the strangest feeling he was running out of time, but against what, he couldn’t say.

* * *

The remainder of the weekend passed far more quickly than Jamie would have liked. The change in his relationship with Dillon was amazing, and even with the mystery surrounding Ben’s death and the money, Jamie’s heart was full to bursting with all the love and affection Dillon was sending his way. The two of them spent the rest of Saturday evening together, and would have spent the night together as well if Aunt Sadie had allowed it. Sleeping over in a hotel room some thirty minutes away was one thing, but, according to Sadie, having sex under her roof was another thing entirely. Jamie couldn’t fault her for it. She’d been far more accepting of his relationship with Dillon than most women of her generation would have been. He and Dillon would just have to use their time together as best they could. Dillon had wanted Jamie to go back to Heath’s apartment with him, but since Heath had the night off and Dillon slept on the couch, that was out of the question.

Not being able to spend the night together didn’t affect their waking moments, however. Sunday morning, Dillon surprised Jamie by picking him up and taking him to church. Though the church Jamie normally attended with Sadie didn’t openly condemn homosexual relationships, it still wasn’t the most gay affirming congregation in the world. For that reason, Jamie and Dillon chose to go the First Christian Church with the Nash family, even if it meant running into a less than thrilled Brandon. Thankfully, the butt chewing Jamie expected Brandon to give him turned out to be nothing more than a stern lecture on the merits of minding his own damn business. When the services were over, Jamie mentioned Brandon’s uncharacteristic restraint to Megan only to have her laugh and say, “Yeah, well, that’s because Nate threatened to cut him off for two weeks if he yelled at us.”

Jamie laughed. Like Nate could hold out that long himself. Jamie shook his head. He’d seen the way Nate and Bran looked at each other. Judging from the smoldering glances they exchanged when they thought no one was looking, Jamie was surprised Bran didn’t just bend Nate over the amen pew and have at it right there in church. Jamie understood, though. God knows he was dying to make love with Dillon again. Far from satisfying his hunger, that night in Chicago had only served to fuel Jamie’s need.

Jamie and Dillon did their best to convince Megan to go out to lunch with them after church, but she surprised them both by saying she had a date.

Dillon’s whistle echoed through the church foyer where the three of them stood. “Heath’s gonna freak when he finds out.”

Megan grinned, her blush matching the pretty pink color of her lace-trimmed Sunday dress. “He already knows.”

It was Jamie’s turn to whistle. “How did he take it?”

Megan laughed. “He was relieved. When Heath first asked me to go out with him, he was afraid I’d say no.”

Jamie and Dillon were both speechless. Speechless because Heath finally grew a brain and accepted the fact that he and Megan were made for each other. After kissing Megan goodbye and wishing her luck, Dillon and Jamie set out to make good use of the rest of their Sunday.

And make use of it, they did. From lunch at Hailey’s to an afternoon lounging on Sadie’s couch watching T.V., there wasn’t a minute that Jamie could recall when the two of them weren’t holding hands or cuddling in some fashion. But their time together slowly slipped away, and just as the night before, Jamie felt something akin to physical pain when Dillon kissed him goodnight and turned to go. The guy who wrote that song, “Love Hurts,” sure as hell knew what he was talking about.

Jamie might have felt pain over the temporary separation, but Dillon’s reaction was closer to panic. Every time he left Jamie’s side, Dillon was plagued by the unreasonable fear that he’d never see Jamie again. He knew it was irrational, but there wasn’t a thing he could do to stop it. It was that fear that caused Dillon to throw his books into his locker Monday afternoon after school with a force that startled Megan and made her jump back three feet.

“Dillon, it’s not like Jamie’s riding home with an ax murderer. His Aunt Sadie picked him up, for crying out loud. What did you expect him to do, wait out here in the hall while we chair the student council meeting?”

“Yes. No. Damn, I don’t know.” Dillon closed his locker with an exaggerated slam. “I was hoping Jamie would be here for the meeting, too. Isn’t the G.S.A. helping out with all this prom stuff?”

Megan shook her head. “Not this one. The prom falls under the sole jurisdiction of the student council. I think it’s tradition. Though I did hear Morgan say he wants us to make it clear that the prom is open to all students and their dates, same sex couples included.”

“Uh huh. Speaking of dates, you taking my brother to said prom?”

Making Megan blush was getting too darn easy. She went pink all the way to the roots of her bright red hair. “I don’t know. It’s too soon to tell whether he even wants to see me again. We’ve only had one real date, you know.”

Dillon looped his arm around Megan’s shoulders as the two of them walked towards the conference room. “Meggie, I saw the look on Heath’s face when he came home last night. The guy was actually humming. Trust me, he’s gonna want to see you again.”

Megan only nodded, but the hopeful look in her eyes was impossible to miss. Instead of saying anything more about Heath, though, she turned the tables on Dillon. “Since you brought it up, what are your prom plans? You and Jamie gonna go together?”

“I hope so. I haven’t asked him yet, what with everything else going on.”

Megan stopped just outside the conference room door and turned to face him, still within the clasp of Dillon’s arm. “Does ‘everything’ include a night of hot steamy sex in that hotel room you shared?”

“It might.” Dillon couldn’t help what happened next. God save him, he actually giggled. Maybe that girlie lube Megan had given them had turned him into a woman, after all.

Megan was practically jumping up and down. “I knew it. The minute I saw you in church yesterday, I said to myself, ‘Self, there goes a man who just got laid.’” She leaned in closer. “So, how was it? Was it an all night monkey-sex fest?”

Dillon was trying his best to come up with an answer for that one when a shadow fell across the hall. He turned to see Dan Morgan standing not three feet away, wearing a three hundred dollar sweater paired with hand tailored slacks and taking in every word. When Morgan noticed Dillon looking at him, he grinned. “Please don’t delay your answer on my account, Dillon. Sounds like a good story if ever I heard one.”

Megan balked. “Mr. Morgan, I didn’t know you were standing there. I, um . . .”

Dillon took over. “Mr. Morgan, if it’s all the same to you, I’ll save the story for another time. I have to work this afternoon after the meeting, so I’d like to get started as soon as possible.”

The disappointed look on Morgan’s face made Dillon feel ill. “I suppose if we must, we must. Pity, that.” He waved one cashmere-covered arm towards the door and looked at Megan. “After you, Miss Nash. In fact, why don’t you call the other council members to order while I have a word with Dillon here?”

Dillon’s face must have shown his reluctance, because Morgan was quick with his reassurances. “I know you’re in a hurry, Dillon, and I promise this won’t take long.”

Dillon didn’t want to hear anything Morgan had to say, especially not after their meeting in the principal’s office and that little speech at Ben’s memorial. But Dillon also knew he didn’t really have a choice. Nodding to Megan, Dillon waited until she’d gone into the conference room and closed the door behind her before turning back to Morgan. “Yes, sir?”

Morgan moved towards him, standing so close Dillon could practically feel Morgan’s breath on his cheeks. “I understand that James and Megan enjoyed an impromptu visit to a Chicago jail this past weekend.”

The hairs on the back of Dillon’s neck stood on end. “How did you know about that?”

Morgan smiled and leaned in so that they were nose to nose. “Oh, let’s just say I have a friend or two down at the police department nice enough to keep me informed about what goes on with my students.” Morgan’s voice dropped an octave but lost none of its greasy charm. “I like James, Dillon, and I think you should know that he’s fooling around with things that could get him . . . hurt. I’m not including Megan in this because I suspect that she was only at that dead man’s house because James dragged her into it.” Morgan stepped back just a bit and looked directly into Dillon’s eyes. “If I were you, I’d make sure James backed of this little investigation of his.”

Dillon’s mouth went dry. “Mr. Morgan, is that a threat?”

Morgan did his best to seem surprised by the question. “A threat? Of course not. It makes no difference to me what happens to James, but you seem to care, so I thought I’d give you a heads up. Consider it friendly advice.” And before Dillon could say anything else, Morgan opened the door and entered the conference room, leaving Dillon no choice but to follow.

Morgan’s so-called “friendly advice” rang in Dillon’s ears as he took a seat next to Megan and listened to the seemingly endless string of updates and reports on everything from the prom’s location to the merits of decorating with Mylar instead of crepe paper. All Dillon wanted to do was get this meeting over with, work his shift at the drugstore, and get to Jamie. Dillon wasn’t sure how--or if--Morgan was connected to Ben and Burke, but if Morgan was trying to scare him with his cryptic warnings about Jamie, it sure as hell worked. Dillon was terrified, first that something would happen to Jamie, and next that Dillon would be powerless to stop it when it did.

When the last committee member was done presenting the final issue--something about the music that Dillon only half-way heard--Morgan took the podium and said, “Once again, ladies and gentleman, thank you for putting your time and effort into this project. I have no doubt this year’s prom will be the best one Plunkett has ever had. As you kids are fond of saying, the prom is gonna be a real killer.”

Dillon prayed to God that the prom would be the only killer he and Jamie came in contact with, but somewhere deep inside, he doubted it would be.

#

Dillon thanked the gods of scheduling that he was down for a short shift, getting off work at seven instead of his usual nine o’clock. Dillon’s plan--one he’d shared with Jamie during a hasty on-break phone call--was to run home, take a quick shower, and then spend the rest of the evening (the time until Sadie kicked him out for the night, that is) with Jamie over at his place. The minute Dillon stepped into Heath’s apartment and took a look at his brother’s face, though, that plan was shot to Hell.

Heath, still wearing his uniform, was sitting in his ratty old recliner. His face was ashen, and as soon as Dillon walked in the door, he looked up and said, “We got trouble, kid.”