Chapter 23
Lisanne was miserable, but there was one person who appeared to be having a worse Christmas.
Rodney sent a text as she was driving home, begging her to meet him.
She pulled up outside the same coffee shop they’d patronized two happier, less complicated days earlier.
Rodney was already waiting, his face tense.
“Thank God you’re here,” he said, sweeping her into a tight hug. “Where’s Daniel?”
Lisanne bit her lip. “He had to get back.”
Rodney looked surprised.
“How come?”
“Well, he said it was because he had to find a place to live…”
“And you don’t think that was true?”
Lisanne shrugged. “We had a stupid, horrible fight—it was all my fault. I was such a bitch. I wouldn’t blame him if he wanted to get away from me.”
Rodney squeezed her hand. “No way. The guy’s nuts about you.”
Lisanne looked up hopefully. “You think?”
“Jeez,” said Rodney, “don’t you talk to each other?”
“Oh, that’s rich, coming from you, Mr. I’ve been gay for years and never told my best friend!”
“Touché,” grimaced Rodney.
“Anyway, how’d it go with your folks?”
“Oh, just great,” said Rodney, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “Mom burst into tears and Dad started praying. And that was when I told them I was dropping out of college.”
“Ouch!”
“Yeah, and then I told them I was gay.” Rodney took a shaky breath. “Mom just cried some more and Dad didn’t know what to say. I had to get out.”
Lisanne put her hand over his, strongly aware that Rodney’s problems outweighed hers considerably. He looked wretched. He was putting on a good show, but she could sense the pain he was trying so hard to hide.
“You know,” she said, slowly, “you could transfer to my college, couldn’t you? We’re only one semester in—you could catch up. There’s always room in general ed classes—until you decide what to do.”
She could see that her words had thrown him a lifeline.
“You think? Hell, yes! You and me in the city? Well, you, me and Daniel. That would be amazing.”
He looked at her gratefully.
“Really? You think it could work?”
“Why not? It’s a good school. Your mom and dad will be happy you’re still getting your degree. And you won’t be alone—you’ll be with me. And they know I’m a good girl.”
She emphasized the last two words and finally managed to pull a small smile from Rodney.
She was glad one of them was feeling more positive.
When he went to order more coffee, Lisanne checked her phone again, but there was nothing from Daniel.
Rodney caught her as he walked back—he was definitely looking lighter and more relaxed.
“Still no word from Daniel?”
“Nothing.”
He shrugged. “It’s a man thing. Wait till he’s nearly home then give him a call … um … text him.” He looked at her sympathetically. “He’s a pretty great guy. I mean, the way he was with me. When I saw him I thought he was, you know, so alpha male, that there was no way he’d let a gay guy hang out with him. But he was totally cool about it. And I’m serious—he’s crazy about you.”
Lisanne sighed. “Sometimes I think so, but he’s so hard to read. He never tells me anything. I don’t know, like he thinks he’s protecting me or something.”
“Maybe he is. You said his home life isn’t the best.”
“You have no idea,” she said, miserably.
“Tell me about it,” said Rodney, with feeling.
The friends shared a look, and Rodney reached across the table to hold her hand. “You’ll work it out.”
But by that evening, Lisanne still hadn’t heard from Daniel. Her emotions had been playing hopscotch, leaping from irritation to anger, from concern to doubt, and winding up with full-scale paranoia. Maybe the bus had crashed off of the road? Maybe the pretty blonde who’d got on the bus before him was currently enjoying Daniel’s considerable charms—maybe he’d charmed the pants off her—literally?
She threw her phone onto the bedside table and went to sleep, pissed and miserable.
By morning there was still no news, and Lisanne began to be really worried.
Monica tried to calm her down.
“You know what men are like, darling. Half the time your father forgets to take his cell phone with him and when he does, it’s almost never charged up or even turned on.”
Lisanne shook her head. “Daniel always has his cell phone on him—it’s not like he can use an ordinary phone—he has to text.”
Monica frowned.
“Harry said you two had a fight. Maybe he just needs some space?”
Lisanne let her head drop into her hands. She was worried that her mom was right. How much space did he need? So much that he was breaking up with her?
But Rodney had a different idea.
“Look,” he said, on the phone later that morning, “why don’t we go down there and shake his tree. If you’re that worried, I’ll drive you there. God knows I need to get away from my parents. I really appreciate them praying for me, but it’s driving me a little crazy, too. God made me gay—they’ll just have to get over it.”
“Really, you’d drive me? Because Mom would never let me take her car and getting around by bus is a real pain.”
“Sure, why not. We’ll need somewhere to stay though.”
Lisanne chewed her thumb nail, what was left of it after the last 24 hours.
“We could stay in my dorm room—I know how I can sneak you in. Kirsty won’t be there … what do you think?”
Rodney laughed. “A pajama party? Oh my God, that sounds so gay! I must be making up for lost time. Yes, let’s do it.”
Monica and Ernie were less enthused when she told them the plan.
“For goodness sake, Lisanne! You can’t go chasing after Daniel like that.”
“I’m not chasing after him, Mom,” Lisanne lied. “I’m just … worried about him. And Rodney wants to check out my college so … it all fits in.”
Ernie frowned, but then surprised Monica by agreeing with Lisanne.
“We won’t get any peace in this house with her all wound up, and Rodney’s a steady, sensible boy.”
Obviously Ernie hadn’t gotten the memo, but Lisanne wasn’t going to argue with her dad when he was on her side.
“Thank you, Daddy!” she sang, and ran upstairs to pack her bags.
Two hours later they were on the road.
“I’ve prepared a play list of road trip songs,” said Rodney, pleased with himself. “I didn’t think I’d get the chance to use it so soon.”
Soon the sounds of Ultra Nate’s Free were pumping through the car, and Lisanne felt her spirits lift, if ever so slightly.
She raised her eyebrows. “I remember this one.”
Rodney grinned. “You could call it my anthem.”
Lisanne smiled.
“Ready?” said Rodney. “Rooooad triiiiiip!” and hit the accelerator.
By early evening they were cruising through the Savannah suburbs.
“Do you mind if we go to Daniel’s place first?” Lisanne asked anxiously.
“Course not, Lis. This is what we’re here for. Besides, I want to see this famous den of iniquity.”
“That’s not funny, Rodney—it’s his home.”
Rodney winced. “Sorry.”
As they drove up the street to Daniel’s house, it was eerily quiet. On her first visit, Lisanne had seen cars and bikes lining the road, and people spilling out onto the sidewalk. But there was nothing. No one.
When she saw the house, her mouth fell open.
“Holy crap,” breathed Rodney, his voice filled with shocked awe.
The front door was hanging from its hinges, and there was hardly a single pane of glass that hadn’t been smashed. Bottles and beer cans littered the front yard, and a bonfire of something that smelled really bad was still smoldering at the side of the house.
Whoever had done this—and it must have been more than one person—was long gone.
Lisanne felt sick and scrambled out of the car.
“Wait!” hissed Rodney.
He climbed out, locked the car and had his finger hovering over 911 on his speed dial.
Lisanne was too keyed up to let him go first, and ran up the steps.
“Hey,” called Rodney. “Look!”
Walking toward them, as if every footstep was pulled to the earth by its own unique gravity, was Daniel. He looked tired, dirty and unshaven, but he was alive and in one piece.
Lisanne ran forward, throwing herself at him, locking her arms around his neck. He stood stock still, then slowly let his head sink down to her shoulder.
Neither of them spoke.
Rodney leaned against the car and let them have their moment. Whatever had happened to Daniel, he’d clearly been through hell.
After a minute, Lisanne loosened her grip and stepped back so she could see his face.
“Are you okay? What happened? Where have you been? I’ve been going crazy!”
His eyes were glazed with tiredness and he seemed confused. Lisanne was immediately worried that he’d injured his head and she turned his cheek gently to inspect the wound. She couldn’t see anything obvious, except that he was clearly in need of a hot shower and some food—probably a long sleep, too.
He looked at her as if he didn’t understand her question, but as his eyes tracked across to his home, some of the fire she loved to see flared in his eyes.
“Fucking meth heads,” he said, tiredly.
“What?!” gasped Lisanne, her eyes meeting Rodney’s shocked face. “Druggies did this?”
Daniel nodded slowly. “Yeah, after the police bust the place wide open.” He looked at the wrecked building, and anger rippled across his face. “I’d better take a look.”
If anything, the inside was worse. All the soft furnishings had been slashed open, carpets ripped up—even some of the floorboards. Every closet, cupboard and cabinet had been emptied, the contents carelessly strewn around. In what was left of the kitchen, the refrigerator was lying on its side, a carton of sour milk puddled on the floor. The back door had been left open and a few leaves had blown inside. At least it hadn’t rained.
Cautiously, Lisanne picked a route up the stairs that avoided some of the potential hazards of torn carpeting and suspicious stains. The same destruction had made its way to the second story. At Daniel’s room, they all paused. The door had been smashed open by something heavy, causing the lock to disintegrate. His once tidy room had been torn apart, the sheets pulled from the bed, the mattress slashed to pieces. All the books had had the covers ripped off and had been tossed to the floor. The rug was shoved to one side and even the little loft space above his bed had been violated. Clothes had been pulled from the closet, dumped onto the floor, and walked over.
“It looks like there’s been a riot here,” whispered Rodney.
Lisanne didn’t know what to say. The police had done a very thorough job of searching the place—and then it had been trashed by people who were looking for something, anything to sell for their next fix.
“Come on, let’s get out of here,” said Rodney. “We’ll get some food and go back to your place, Lis, then decide what to do. Okay?”
Lisanne nodded. Any plan that involved getting the hell away sounded good to her.
“Wait for me outside,” said Daniel, quietly.
Back in the fresh air, Lisanne felt a loosening of the claustrophobia that had choked her inside the devastated house, but her head had started to throb and she felt nauseous.
A few minutes later, Daniel followed them out. He was carrying a plastic bag with some of his clothes but very little else.
“They took my guitar,” he said in a hollow voice. “And I checked the garage—Sirona’s gone. Fuck. The place has been left wide open—everything’s gone.”
“Who’s Sirona?” whispered Rodney.
“His Harley.”
Daniel bent down and picked up a half-full bottle of vodka that was lying at his feet.
Lisanne was about to tell him not to drink it when he shoved some sheets of newspaper into the neck and pulled out his lighter.
Flames licked up the paper and Daniel aimed the missile at his home.
“No!” shouted Lisanne, and jogged his arm so he missed his target, and it smashed onto the bonfire, exploding harmlessly.
Rodney looked shocked and completely out of his depth.
“What are you doing?” yelled Lisanne, pulling Daniel around to face her.
“Torching the shithole,” he replied in a dull monotone.
“I think we’d better get him out of here,” Rodney said, in a hushed voice.
Lisanne led Daniel to the back of Rodney’s car and pushed him inside. She slid in next to him, holding his hand, staring anxiously at his face. He leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes.
Keeping her voice quiet out of some sort of atavistic belief that it would calm the wounded in spirit, Lisanne gave Rodney directions to the dorm rooms. They stopped briefly to pick up food, but Daniel didn’t speak again.
Once they arrived, she told Rodney to wait by the fire exit with Daniel, until she could let them in without being seen.
The dorms were quiet and seemingly deserted, but from somewhere, music floated through the empty corridors—happy, upbeat music—the kind you listened to when you hadn’t a care in the world. Lisanne tried to work out where the music was coming from and which rooms might be occupied, but everywhere appeared empty.
She opened the fire exit and motioned Rodney to enter. He pulled a zombie-like Daniel behind him.
Once in her room, Daniel slumped onto her bed and Rodney gazed around him.
“Not bad. Could do with a private bathroom though.”
“Yeah, they’re putting that in all the girls’ dorm rooms for next year. If it wasn’t a requirement for out-of-towners to live on campus for the first year, I think they’d have a lot of empty rooms.”
She looked at Daniel. “Are you hungry?” She walked toward him and tapped his arm. “Are you hungry?”
He shook his head. “Tired.”
“You should sleep. Do you want to get a shower first? There’s hardly anyone around—I could wait outside, make sure no one walks in on you.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
Lisanne poked her head around the door and escorted him to the women’s showers. Her eyes drifted down his body as he undressed, and she saw that his bruises had turned yellow and were beginning to fade. That was something. But he looked so tired.
His shower was brief, probably because he’d have fallen asleep if he’d stayed any longer. He dried himself with Lisanne’s towel and pulled on his jeans. He grimaced at the grubby t-shirt and walked back to her room barefoot and bare chested.
Rodney had made inroads on the food, but she saw him trying not to stare as they walked back in. Lisanne threw him a look, and his eyes dropped to his egg roll.
Daniel seemed marginally more awake and accepted some of the food, but his eyelids were drooping. Lisanne knew he needed to sleep but she had to ask.
“What happened?”
Daniel sighed and pushed his food away. Lisanne immediately felt guilty.
“I got back from your place. I hadn’t got any money for a cab so I’d walked from the bridge. I’d just pulled out my door key when the cops showed up. I got arrested and spent two days in a police cell before I got bail.”
Lisanne gasped. “What were you arrested for? You hadn’t even been there!”
His head dropped. “Zef’s going down. They wouldn’t even give him bail. It’s a felony—intent to distribute.” His voice was hollow as he recited the bare facts. “He could get up to 10 years.”
He rubbed his head, tiredly.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
Daniel shook his head. “I needed my phone call for the lawyer. I thought about asking her to get a message to you…”
“But…?”
“You don’t need to be involved in anymore of my shit, Lis.”
She groaned with frustration. That was so like him! By trying to protect her, he’d scared the shit out of her.
“What about your guitar?” she said, in as calm a tone as she could muster. “What about Sirona? Will you report them stolen?”
“No point. They’ll be long gone.”
“You can claim on the insurance,” Rodney added helpfully.
Daniel just stared at him, and Rodney’s cheeks flushed.
“So that’s it?” said Lisanne. “They took everything?”
“Yeah, laptop, CDs—fuck even most of my clothes.”
“What about your schoolwork?”
He tapped his hip pocket. “Got that backed up on a flash drive. And my music.”
Rodney frowned but didn’t offer any more asinine advice.
“Baby doll, I know you’ve got more questions, but I really need to sleep now,” he said, staring longingly at Lisanne’s bed. “Can we talk in the morning?”
“Of course,” she said softly, moving the boxes of food so he could lie down.
He caught her hand and pulled her toward him.
“I’m so fucking happy you’re here,” he whispered. “It makes it hurt less.”
He leaned his head against her waist then stood up slowly. Giving her a small smile, he dropped his jeans and slid down between the sheets and rolled onto his side.
Lisanne bent down to kiss him, but he was already asleep.
Rodney motioned something, hissing in a stage whisper, and Lisanne raised her eyebrows. “He can’t hear you.”
“Oh, God, sorry. I keep forgetting. Jeez, all this makes my problems seem pretty damn pathetic.”
“I know what you mean.”
“I had no idea this thing with his brother was so serious. Sounds like he’ll do time.”
“Yes, I think so. Maybe it’s for the best.”
“At least he spoke up for Daniel.”
Lisanne’s reply was bitter. “That was the least he could do.”
Rodney chewed slowly. “What will Daniel do now?”
“I don’t know. Find somewhere to live. Try and go to school. He’s got a job lined up at an auto repair shop. I hope he doesn’t drop out because of all this. He’s really smart. He helps me with my math and everything.”
Rodney choked on his chow mein. “What?! I tried to do that for years and didn’t get anywhere. He must be good.”
“He’s great,” she said, sadly.
“Hot, too,” added Rodney.
Lisanne laughed a little. “Yeah, hot, too.”
“You know, except for the windows, it wouldn’t be too hard to fix up his place enough to make it livable. Your dad isn’t too bad at all that stuff. Do you think he’d help? We’ve got ten days.”
Lisanne suddenly felt energized. “God, I could kiss you!” she said, leaping to her feet. “I’m sure Mom and Dad would want to help. And Harry.” Then her face fell. “But the windows are still a problem. There’s no way Daniel would be able to pay for that and I can’t ask my parents…”
“We’ll figure something out. Look, phone your folks—tell them Daniel’s okay and we’ll sleep on it. Well, you go sleep with your fabulous, hot, naked boyfriend and I’ll tuck myself into this lonely little single all by my lonesome, and dream of tight butts and lickable biceps.”
“Oh my God,” said Lisanne, “you sound just like Kirsty. It must be that bed.”
She phoned her parents and although they were shocked by what she told them, they promised to be there by lunchtime the following day.
For the first time in several days, Lisanne allowed herself to hope as she curled up next to Daniel.
He slept for 14 hours, solidly. He’d been so still, Lisanne had even prodded him to make sure he was breathing. He’d sighed softly, which reassured her.
“He probably didn’t sleep much in the cop shop,” said Rodney. “I know I wouldn’t want to.” He shuddered.
“No, I guess not.” She chewed her lip for a moment then stood up. “I’m going to put some laundry in for him—not that he has much left in the way of clothes.”
“What was he saying about his guitar? I didn’t get that.”
Lisanne sighed. “He was a musician. Like me. He started losing his hearing when he was 14. And he wrote the most amazing music. I sing four of his songs in the band. It’s horrible, what’s happened to him.”
“Thank God he found you,” said Rodney, too quietly for Lisanne to hear.
Lisanne went to load Daniel’s laundry while Rodney stayed in the room. He was surprised when she stomped back, her face furious.
“What’s up now?”
“I found this!” she said, tossing a piece of paper onto Kirsty’s bed.
Rodney picked it up. “Huh. A woman’s phone number. Lis, he must get given things like this all the time.”
“But why did he keep it?” she seethed.
“He has been rather preoccupied,” said Rodney, raising his eyebrows. “But if you’re that worried about it you can ask him when he wakes up.”
Lisanne huffed but didn’t argue. She stomped back out of the room and came back 40 minutes later with Daniel’s clean clothes.
“Still no sign of life,” said Rodney, affably. “But I think you’d better wake him up so we can meet your folks at his place.”
Lisanne stroked Daniel’s cheek and watched his eyelids flutter open.
“Hey, baby doll,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I was dreaming about you.”
Behind her, she heard Rodney’s theatrical sigh.
“Nice dream?”
“Fucking amazing,” he said, with a smile. “If it had been anyone else but you who woke up me, I’d have been pissed.”
He sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Oh, hey, Rodney. Forgot you were there, man.”
“It happens a lot,” Rodney replied, waspishly.
Daniel grinned.
“Better put some clothes on,” Lisanne reminded him, and tossed him his clean jeans and t-shirt.
“Fuck, you are an amazing woman,” said Daniel, gratefully.
Rodney averted his eyes while Daniel swung out of bed and pulled on his jeans, tucking his semi inside.
“We’re really going to have to get you some underwear,” commented Lisanne.
“Spoilsport,” Rodney muttered to himself.
“Is there any of that Chinese left?” asked Daniel as he stretched, dragging on his t-shirt.
“Some. Or we could go out for breakfast.”
“I’ll take whatever’s left,” said Daniel, eyeing the food hungrily.
He started eating with a vengeance while Lisanne explained to him about her parents coming to help. He stopped with the chopsticks half way to his mouth.
“They’re coming here?”
“Of course,” said Lisanne. “They want to help.”
“Why?” Daniel was genuinely puzzled.
“Because they care about you, you dope!”
“Oh,” said Daniel, still unsure. “Okay, thanks.”
“Um, there’s something else,” said Lisanne, fingering the note she’d found in Daniel’s jeans. “What’s this?”
He frowned and then his face cleared. “Oh yeah. Some chick I met at the hearing clinic. She’d just had the CI. Wanted to swap notes.” He rolled his eyes.
Rodney winked at Lisanne, a relieved smile on his face.
Daniel carried on eating.
“You never said why they arrested you.”
Rodney groaned audibly as Daniel sighed, and dropped the chopsticks.
“I had nearly an ounce of dope in my room. They were trying to say it was possession with intent to distribute, but my lawyer bargained it down to personal use. That’s a misdemeanor—incarceration for up to a year.”
He looked at Lisanne and shrugged, which fired both her anxiety and irritation.
“Why did you have the drugs, Daniel? I mean, I’ve never seen you … not with me…”
He gave her a small smile. “Zef brought it to hospital—sort of a ‘get well soon and get your lazy ass out of here’ present. I shoved it under my bed and forgot about it.” He shrugged. “Zef told the cops the same thing, so my lawyer says I could get off.”
His casual tone pushed Lisanne over the edge of her carefully sewn together composure.
“What the hell, Daniel? We’re supposed to be together, and you keep all of this from me? Zef gave it to you while you were in hospital! That was two weeks ago! And you never mentioned it! What does that say about our relationship?”
She stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
Rodney turned his gaze on Daniel, who looked equally furious.
“I’m protecting her from all this shit!” Daniel spat out.
“She doesn’t want to be protected—she wants to help you.”
“She can’t.”
“She can help if you share how you’re feeling. Jeez, Daniel!”
“All the shit she’s been through because of me. I don’t even know why she’s still here.”
Rodney sighed in exasperation. “Because she loves you, you asshole!”
Daniel’s eyes widened slightly and he sat back silently.
“And I think you love her.”
Daniel nodded slowly. “She’s everything.”
“Then tell her. Jeez, you two … I don’t know which one of you is worse. Damn it, I’ve been out for precisely two days and you’ve got me doing a Dr. Phil or Ricki Lake or something. Give me a break!” He twitched his shoulders in an impatient gesture.
Daniel grinned. “Ricki Lake?”
“So? My grandparents are from Baltimore—I like Hairspray. Just do something to make her feel special—so that she knows you care. It doesn’t have to be anything expensive…”
“Thank fuck for that because in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m broke,” Daniel said, bitterly. But at the same time an idea came to him. Maybe.
“Look, we should go,” said Rodney, glancing at his watch. “I’ll meet you outside—give you and Lis a few minutes to yourselves.”
Rodney opened the door as Lisanne stamped back inside, nearly taking him out as she barreled past him.
“Good luck,” Rodney breathed, although neither Daniel or Lisanne could hear him.
Lisanne ricocheted around the room, collecting her jacket and purse, feeling like she wanted to whack Daniel around the head with it—on his good side, of course.
He sat patiently, waiting for her to look at him.
Finally, she whirled around. “I’m so mad at you!”
“Yeah, I got the memo,” he said, dryly.
“This isn’t a laughing matter!” she yelled.
“I’m not laughing, baby doll,” he said, holding back a smile. “I’m sorry, okay.”
“No! No it’s definitely not okay! You never tell me anything! I have to find out everything by accident. That’s not the basis for a relationship, Daniel.”
His chest squeezed unpleasantly.
“Lis, please. I’ll try, okay. I just … it … I haven’t had anyone to tell this shit to in a while.”
His hazel eyes begged her to understand and she didn’t have it in her heart to punish him anymore. He’d said he’d try. She couldn’t ask for more.
“Okay, but we’re in this together, Daniel. Just tell me. If it affects you, it affects me. Get that through your thick skull!” and she tapped him lightly on his head.
“Working on it, baby doll,” he said, seriously.
She sat on his knee and he nuzzled her neck. She was in his arms and there was nowhere else she wanted to be.
They were interrupted by her phone ringing and Rodney’s irate voice telling them to stop making out and to get out.
Throughout the whole drive Rodney complained grumpily about being the only person not currently getting any action. Lisanne ignored him and Daniel, sitting in the backseat, looked like he’d fallen asleep again.
They arrived just as the Maclaines’ car was turning into the road.
It was like an extreme version of shows on the DIY network.
That first day, Daniel was astonished by how much they got done. Ernie had called ahead to have a dumpster delivered, along with industrial amounts of white paint, brushes and rollers. He’d also arranged for a glazier to come and fit new glass in the seven broken windows. And then he handed out tasks to everyone.
Daniel worked harder and longer and took fewer breaks than anyone else, galvanized to see his childhood home re-emerge from the rubble. He even managed to retrieve some photographs of his parents that weren’t too badly damaged.
Halfway through the afternoon, two men had driven past in a beaten up VW van to buy coke, but Ernie saw them off by threatening to call the police.
“That’ll happen for a while,” he said, thoughtfully, “but the message will soon get around … providing it stays that way.”
He gave Daniel a hard stare.
“It will,” snapped Daniel. “I don’t want that shit anywhere near me or … I don’t want it around.”
Ernie nodded and went back to work.
On the fourth day, after most of the clearing out had been done and small structural repairs completed, they started the painting. Harry turned out to have a good eye for staining woodwork without the lines bleeding, so he was put in charge of door frames and window sills. Everyone else was hands-on painting the walls and ceilings.
Ernie even rented a sander, and showed Daniel how to use it on hardwood floors. Some of Pop’s skills with tools had rubbed off on Ernie.
Daniel was worried about how much it was all costing, but Ernie simply said he hoped someone would do the same it if was his kids who needed a helping hand. That was the end of the discussion—at least as far as Ernie was concerned.
The biggest problem was furniture. Monica and Lisanne were given the job of haunting the thrift shops to see what they could find.
“Nothing girly, please, baby doll,” begged Daniel.
Lisanne snickered quietly. “You’ll love whatever I get,” and kissed him quickly so he couldn’t reply.
They were pretty successful, securing sofas, chairs, a kitchen table and two double beds with decent mattresses.
Each night Rodney and Daniel stayed at the house, camping out and washing in cold water, until the oil tank could be refilled. Both of them were wearing five day old stubble.
Lisanne had wanted to stay, too, but had been outvoted by her parents and even by Daniel, who was worried in case any of Zef’s customers came back.
But Ernie seemed to have been right about the word getting around, and no one bothered them again.
On New Year’s Eve, there was one more piece of good news.
Daniel was scrubbing out the downstairs shower room that hadn’t been used for two years, except for storing liquor, when his cell vibrated in his pocket.
As he read the message his face lit up, and his shout of happiness could be heard all over the house.
Lisanne came running over. “What is it?”
“They’ve found Sirona! Some asshat tried to sell her to Sal, the guy from the auto shop who’s given me a job. He recognized her and called the bastard on it. I can pick her up today.”
Monica drove him over to collect his beloved Harley and he rode her home, grinning from ear to ear, wearing a helmet that Sal had given him, with another stashed in the saddlebags as a spare for his girl.
Rodney leaned over to whisper. “Your boyfriend looks hot in leather.”
“I know,” Lisanne said, smugly.
That evening, they celebrated the house’s rebirth, Sirona’s return, and New Year’s Eve with Mexican takeout, beer and large quantities of ice cream. Daniel and Rodney celebrated by taking turns in a shower that pumped out hot water.
The house still looked a bit empty and the furniture was shabby if functional, but it was a home again. Or trying to be.
Harry and Lisanne were fighting over the last of the Rocky Road when Daniel stood up, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot.
“Yeah, so it’s New Year’s Eve and tomorrow, shit, well, it’s a new year. So, um, I just wanted to, you know, thank you all for everything you’ve done. It’s been like having family, that’s how it feels, to me, I mean. And Rodney, man, you came through and I know you’ve been going through your own shit, so if you need a place to stay … this is home, okay. Monica, Ernie, you guys have been fucking awesome. Um, sorry. But you have. You, too, Harry. You’ve worked hard, man.” His eyes turned to Lisanne, who was holding her hand to her mouth, her eyes bright with tears. “Baby doll, you … I … just … thank you. I mean, thank you for everything. Fuck, I…”
She stood up and walked over to him, looking into his eyes. “I know.”
There was a silence, so full of emotion that it had to be broken.
“Here’s to new beginnings,” said Rodney, holding up his beer.
“Hear! Hear!” agreed Monica, softly.
Lisanne pulled Daniel down onto the sofa with her and held him, until his embarrassment had faded.
“I loved what you said,” she whispered.
“I sounded like a fucking moron,” he groaned. “I had it all planned out what I wanted to say and then, ah, fuck.”
“No, it was perfect.”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “Perfect, huh?”
Lisanne kissed him on the nose. “Except for all the cursing.”
He grinned at her.
At midnight, they sang Auld Lang Syne, and Daniel wrapped his arms around Lisanne’s waist, pulling her against his chest, feeling the vibrations of the song echo through her small rib cage.
Rodney’s words came back to him, Just do something to make her feel special, so that she knows you care. He suddenly knew what he wanted to do.
Several things changed that New Year. After a long night of talking it over with Daniel, Rodney had decided to transfer to the same college, and he was hopeful his parents would support that decision. Daniel had offered him a place to live as a thank you for everything he’d done. Rodney accepted gratefully, but insisted on paying rent money—which Daniel refused, until Lisanne took him to one side and told him that she wasn’t going to appreciate him working 20 hours a week on top of studying, when Rodney’s contribution meant he’d only have to work eight. With Rodney and Lisanne ganging up on him, Daniel had lost that argument.
The following day, the Maclaines went home, full of promises to visit again soon. Harry reminded Daniel that they still had to plan an arcade date.
Rodney was leaving, too, but only to collect his things before moving in, ready for the new semester.
Daniel and Lisanne were alone together for the first time in well over a week. Before Rodney and the Maclaines were at the end of the road, they were pulling off each other’s clothes and wouldn’t even have made it to the bedroom, if Daniel hadn’t picked her up and carried her in bodily.
Lisanne was a hot and sweaty puddle, her flesh still quivering from soft aftershocks following a very much needed orgasm, when Daniel rolled onto his side and ran a finger down her cheek.
“Better?”
“Yes,” she sighed. “Much better.”
He grinned.
“Good,” then his smile faded and he looked uncertain.
It wasn’t a look she associated with Daniel—it worried her.
“What’s wrong?”
“So, um, I have my first tuning session on Thursday.”
“Okay,” she said, carefully.
“They’ll fix me up with the transmitter and processor…” He took a deep breath. “I was wondering … do you want to go with me? I mean, you don’t have to … if it’s too weird…”
“Oh,” she said, swallowing with difficulty. “Oh! Yes, of course I’ll go with you.”
“You will?”
“Yes, idiot!”
“Okay.”
“Okay!”
He pulled her onto his chest and she lay there listening to the steady, even beat of his strong silent heart.