Page 57 of Embers Glow After the Fire

“This is so nice.” Matthew follows Brendon toward the front door.

“I really lucked out,” he boasts.

A short and stout woman with pearl white hair cropped into a spiked pixie answers the door. Her long watercolor print house dress sways like a bell and her face lights up as she repositions bright red cats-eye glasses on her nose.

“Hi, Beverly.” Brendon charms. “I just got back from vacation. This is my friend Matthew. He’s staying tonight to help me move everything in the morning.”

“Lovely to meet you Matthew.” She beams. “Let me grab you the key real quick.” She reaches behind the door and produces two keys on a silver ring with a bright red tag. “Let me know if you boys need anything at all.” She can barely contain her excitement.

“Thank you,” they both respond.

Matthew follows Brendon to the far side of the garage and up a rugged set of oak stairs leasing to a small deck. He unlocks the door and they enter the bright white space with thick purple carpet spongy underfoot. The ceiling is a low vault with two dormered windows that look out over a backyard lined with trees and a wooden fence blocking the view of a crowded neighborhood beyond. There’s an unused kitchenette with a bathroom tucked into the far end of the studio and it smells of fresh lavender cleaning solution.

“The rent is so cheap,” Brendon claims.

“I love it.” Matthew cheers.

They trot back down to the car, collecting their luggage on the first trip. A plastic bin each on the second and sharing the heft of the boxed mattress on the third. They’re both out of breath and sweating by the time they’ve finished.

Brendon shuts the door, waving his t-shirt to cool off and flips on an air conditioning unit mounted through the wall. It chills the compact space in minutes.

“I’m starving.” Brendon pats his belly. “Do we feel like Chinese?” He digs through a suitcase for his wallet.

“Sounds perfect.” Matthew realizes they’ve not eaten all day.

“I’ll run down the street. There’s a great place. What would you like?”

“Surprise me. I’m not picky.” Matthew grins.

Brendon wraps around his neck and pecks his lips. “I’m happy you’re here—Okay, food.” He slips out the door and descends the stairs.

Matthew makes himself useful by popping open the boxed mattress and dumping it out onto the carpet. He peels away the plastic bag keeping it compact and lets it unroll itself. The directions say it’ll take an hour to expand, so he shoves it against the wall where it makes the most sense.

He wanders the small space, nosing inside empty cupboards and testing the faucets.

Brendon is back in no time, hugging a brown paper bundle to his chest and trying to catch air in his lungs. He plops the bag on the kitchen counter and the greasy scent of fried food wafts through the apartment.

They sit in the middle of the floor and feast. Gazing at each other, they hum praise for the delicious samples they insist each other try from shared plastic forks.

Lack of sleep and full bellies incite yawns and drooping eyelids. They crawl onto the new mattress, seemingly engorged to its full potential, and drift off cuddled in each others arms.

Chapter 23

Guest

The new apartment is dark except for the harsh glow of a cell phone screen. The jingling alarm woke Brendon before Matthew could find the silencer switch.

“Good morning,” he whispers.

“What time is it?” Brendon smears the heel of his palm over his eyes and curls against Matthew warm body.

“It’s too early.” His words catch air as he tries to hide a wince.

“Oh, Sorry.” Brendon leans back. Hovering an hand over the bruised rib as if it will ease the pain.

“You’re good.” Matthew’s lips softly press his forehead. “Sorry my alarm woke you. My flight is in two hours.”

“Nooo.” Brendon grumbles, carefully wrapping limbs over his tattered bedmate, relishing in shared heat between them against the chilly room at his back.

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