Page 1 of Let Leaves Lay Where They Fall

Chapter 1

Jamie

A fluttering wake of wind sweeps past his cheek and tickles his ear. Jarring Jamie from the delicious dream of a strapping bearded bagpiper, bear hugging his squawking instrument. His flimsy white tunic gaped open to mounds of brawny pecs, sown with dense fur. Supple mauve nipples peek from beneath the whipping fabric. His tartan kilt floating on the highland winds, exposing tantalizing secrets of a legendary culture. Folklore is true. The Scots don’t disappoint.

The frantic flapping of wings swoop past again. Jamie lifts the faded patchwork quilt over his nose and shrinks down into his cozy burrow. Startled eyes struggle to focus and scan the room. He can’t locate the intruder, at first. A chirp overhead gives its position away. He looks up into the beady eyes of a tiny chickadee, perched on the headboard. Its head jerks and twists inquisitively before its wings carry it on another lap around the little room.

He’d left his window open all night again. The bedroom feels like the inside of the walk-in freezer where he works. He really needs to stop indulging in cocktails with the staff during clean up, after the restaurant closes.

Tossing the covers aside, he bolts upright, hanging off the edge of the bed. A twinge of boozy aftermath grates his temples. He reaches for the wire cage wastebasket under the nightstand, dumping its contents across the floor. He grabs a dirty t-shirt off the top of the hamper and leaps up, twisting around to face the center of the room. Dropping into a wide defensive stance with arms spread. His head springs side to side, hunting for the little invader. Each hand ready with the makeshift tools for trapping the critter.

“Where’d you go?” Jamie’s eyes dart until they find the bitty black and white bird across the room, clutching to the full-length mirror’s frame. He inches forward, but it takes flight again. Circling the space around his head. His arms flail, scooping the basket through the air. Trying to be quick but gentle. On the third swing, he manages to capture the little beast and quickly claps the shirt over the basket. He lunges toward the window and dangles the precious bundle outside. Peeling back the cover so the bird can fly off. Shaking the trap until it does. He tosses the wastebasket and shirt onto the bed and slams the sill shut.

He’s mortified when he spots Mrs. Calloway across the alley. Standing in her window grinning ear to ear and waving. He’s been caught in just tiny white briefs. He scrambles, darting out of view. Pulling on sky blue sweatpants and a gray University of Maine t-shirt gathered from the dresser. He hadn’t attended the school but scored the tee for three dollars at a sidewalk sale years ago.

Peeking back around the frame, she’s still there, sipping from a mug. She waves again and he returns the gesture. Cheeks burnt with shame. No one needs to see this first thing in the morning. He slowly walks back, away from the window.

Poking his head out the bedroom door to check the coast is clear, he scurries across the hall into the bathroom. Pulling the door shut behind. Bladder bursting for relief. He sits on the toilet and lets the stream flow.

His nose follows the pungent scent of fresh Colombian brew wafting up the hall from the kitchen. His heart is already crawling out of his chest. Caffeine may not be the best idea.

“Good morning, Jamie.” A wide toothy smile greets him. Bright blue eyes pinch into cheery squints. His roommate is a stunning catalog model of a man in his late fifties. Sparse ribbons of silver, highlight maple brown hair. His perfect chiseled face and athletic build haven’t aged parallel to his years. Lucky bitch.

“Fuck!” Jamie blurts. Catching his little toe on the edge of the fridge coming around the corner. “Morning Andrew!” He winces, folding over the island, raising his foot to rest on his good leg and massaging the injured digit. Maybe caffeine is necessary after all.

“You okay?.” Andrew snorts, pushing an empty mug across the counter.

“Yes, Thanks.” Jamie fills the cup, tearing open two zero calorie sweetener packets and adding them with a dollop of cream. He prefers tea but morning coffee with Andrew has been a ritual since moving in three years ago. It felt ungrateful refusing the kind gesture that first morning, and the routine stuck.

Andrew side-steps on tiptoe with arms stretched overhead, carrying his phone and mug in either hand. He whirls around Jamie gracefully, to the butcher block island and perches on one of two stools. Behind him, a block of muted gold velvet sofa faces forward, toward a modest television, mounted above a decorative fireplace. The bright white mantle, surround and baseboards frame satin navy walls sharply. It’s a small apartment, but it suits the two bachelors.

Surging rental prices in the city had made it challenging to live alone on a waiter’s unreliable salary. Jamie was thankful Andrew had the space to take him in.

The timing fell in line with the split from Andrew’s long-term partner. He’s lived in the condo for nearly two decades. Retired from the U.S. Navy, where he’d met Marcus, the ex who now lives across town with Tommy. A fabulous man he and Marcus once invited into a three way. The pair reconnected a few months after the amicable split. All three are still good friends. Occasionally more. Andrew seems happy. A single man in his golden years. He works part time at a novelty shop three streets over, just for something to do.

“Are you working today?” Jamie peers over the rim of his mug, blowing ripples into the muddy liquid and slurping through pursed lips.

“I’m going in for a short shift in about half an hour. You?” Andrew knows Jamie has Tuesdays off. Maybe he forgets. He likes to fill their mornings with conversation.

Jamie slurps. “Nope. I’m a free bird today.” Sucking air through grit teeth, cooling the burn.

“Well, Free bird. What are you going to do with yourself?”

“I’m not sure yet.” He shrugs. “I haven’t planned anything,” He leans on one hand, gripping the edge of the counter, gazing out the window and over the roof of the neighboring house. The sky is as blue as his pants and not a cloud in sight. “I’ll have to figure something out; it looks too nice to stay in today.”

Andrew taps his phone, summoning the weather app. “A bit chilly this morning, but it’s gonna warm up soon.”

“Perfect!” Jamie beams. “Actually.” Recalling dreamy images of wild landscapes and Scottish hunks. “Maybe I’ll go over to Casco Bay Sanctuary. I haven’t been there in ages! A hike on those trails would do me some good!” Patting his soft belly.

Andrew scoffs, “Getting outside sounds amazing, but you’ve got to stop doing that to yourself.” He shoots a scolding glare at Jamie’s hand.

Jamie’s eyes cross into his mug. His cheeks burn, forehead stretches and shoulders curl up to his ears. “I’m not 25 anymore.” Tilting his head. “I need to start taking care of this mess again.” He waves an arm over his midsection, presenting flaws he thinks are obvious. “I won’t stand a chance keeping this body in check, like you’ve managed.” As if his deflated blimp of a vessel could ever compare to the gorgeous catalog hunk’s. Mrs. Calloway can now attest.

Jamie was a very large kid. Thinning down soon after graduating high school. At the same time, he was admitting to himself and others that he liked boys. He quickly gathered it was unacceptable to be fat—and gay. Strangers in internet chat rooms hadn’t been as kind and welcoming as he’d wished. He drastically cut calories and hit the gym multiple times a day before moving to the city with his new body. Ready for a fresh restart to life. Hoping he’d meet his dream prince. That hasn’t happened. The new attention he thought he wanted turned out to be shockingly uncomfortable and men he imagined he’d be interested in were terribly disappointing.

Even after losing weight. There are lumps and droopy bits that just won’t tone no matter what torturous exercise he puts himself through. Not that he was bothering with that anymore. He keeps his shameful figure hidden away from the scrutiny of others. Jamie always envied men who are happy in their own skin. Andrew is the poster child.

“Oh shush! You’re a beautiful man Jamie. Everyone sees it but you.” Laying his sculpted head back, getting every drop of coffee. Andrew moves to rinse his cup in the sink. “Well, hopefully you have a wonderful hike. You may even find yourself a little tricky treat in those woods.” He winks, wagging a brow.

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