Page 60 of The Care of Broken Things
“I’m notworried.It’s disrespectful, that’s all.”
“Is disrespect why you had someone snip off his eyelashes?”
He grinned. Couldn’t help it, really. Those eyelashes had been Ariel’s pride and joy, and now the boy had cried himself to sleep three nights already and the tally didn’t seem to be winding down anytime soon.
“I told you that had nothing to do with me.”
“So it was just a random act of sabotage, was it?”
Probably not. The barber was a “patient” of Eli’s. Something involving slipped disks. Samuel never bothered with the details, but that part wasn’t important. What mattered was that everyone loved Eli, and Samuel, being his prison husband, had inherited some of the perks that came along with that. And while it was true he hadn’t made his hatred for Ariel front page news, he hadn’t exactly tried to hide it either. A coupleof quick snips, and the twink’s pride and joy had been brutally mowed down to the roots. It was just too bad Rick wouldn’t accept anything in the form of “payment” for services rendered, though Samuel had made offers—several offers. Good deeds deserved rewarding.
Nathaniel snorted. “Your silence is deafening.”
He felt his grip relax a little. “Nat?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you really okay?”
He halfway hoped Nathaniel would ignore him. That was his own tactic for uncomfortable questions. But Nathaniel was a braver man than he was, and more mature to boot. Probably why he was therealhusband, and Samuel the placeholder. “Yeah, I mean, I’ve known it for a long time, so it’s not like...you’re a good man, Sam. I’d rather share him with you than Marie.”
“You don’t have to share him at all. I don’t—”
“Sam.” And he shut his mouth. “I’m sure Eli would do almost anything you asked of him, but you don’t get to decide how people feel about you. I know it’s scary, but that’s what it means to love someone. So don’t tell me what I do or don’t have to put up with. I accepted you already, and for the most part I was glad to do it, but don’t undermine my sacrifice by telling me nothing has changed. Before the sentencing Eli and I were pursuing adoption. There was a pair of twins, two little girls, that we were hoping to bring into our life, but Andrew ruined that. Maybe forever. I don’t think many adoption agencies look favorably on ex-cons. That was the biggest thing we’ve had to give up, but this, with you, isn’t small either, so don’t try to imply that I have nothing to worry about.”
He bent his head to the words, the weight of them too much even for his stupidly large shoulders. He wanted to cover his ears, especially to the part about the twins.
“I didn’t mean to—that is, I don’t want—” he gave up. “You’re the last person I want to disrespect.”
Nathaniel laughed, a tired and scratchy sound. “What do I care about respect? Just help me keep him happy. At the end of the day, that’s all that really matters.”
He didn’t agree. There were a lot of things that mattered, and Nathaniel’s fear and loneliness were high up on that list. “When I get out—” It was a bad start. He’d learned long ago about the folly of future hopes. “I don’t know how long it will take, but if you still think of me as…”
“Family,” Nathaniel filled in when he couldn’t make himself say it. “It’s not a dirty word, you know.”
“Right, um, so if you still want, I’ll be—I can help, with things. I promise not to be a burden, so—so don’t worry.”
“Did I say I was worried?”
No, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. “They think I’m out of control here. But it’s an act most of the time. I can—I’m not an animal.”
There was a small pause, and an uncomfortable one for him, but he rode it out until “Samuel.” And he didn’t have to say anything else. It was clear, with just that naming, that no further apologies were necessary.
The rest of the conversation was easy after that, as were most conversations with Nathaniel. The man put him at ease like no one else did, and he was always trying to pinpoint why. Nat was older, sure, and wiser, but maybe most impressive was his immunity to bullshit. It just seemed to roll off him like rain on a windshield.
“You’re thinking about him again, aren’t you?” Eli said two days later when they were out in the yard.
“Who?”
“Who else? The light of my life. The bun to my hotdog.”
“I miss hotdogs.”
“No, you don’t. They’re full of preservatives.”
“I love preservatives.”
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. Now why are you mooning over Nathaniel this time?”
