Recipe for Two Page 14

  Lettie lived in a very black and white world, and Wyatt envied her that a lot of the time.

  “Are you a boy right now, or a girl?” Lettie asked bluntly, because of course she hadn’t just overheard the stuff about Izzy.

  “Um, a boy, I guess,” Wyatt said.

  “Cool. I mean, it’s cool when you’re a girl too.”

  “How do you know that?”

  Lettie raised her eyebrows. “Because you’re always cool, Wyatt, duh. Even though you’re a nerd.”

  Wyatt smiled despite himself.

  Yeah, he liked Lettie’s black and white thinking. It was a lot easier than whatever was usually going on in his brain.

  “Thanks, Lettie.”

  They fist bumped.

  Chapter 16

  Izzy packed his stuff quietly. Sam went to bed for a while, then got up again, because he couldn’t sleep, or so he said.

  “Izzy, coffee,” he called quietly sometime in the morning hours when Izzy had been done packing and lay curled on the bed that wasn’t his anymore.

  When Izzy didn’t reply, Sam came to the doorway and looked at him.

  “Is it weird that I know you didn’t do what they accuse you of?” he asked, and Izzy’s gaze snapped into Sam’s.

  “What?”

  “This meant too much to you. There’s got to be an explanation. And you wouldn’t leave Wyatt, either.” Sam crossed his arms. “I wouldn’t have chosen the boss’s brother though.”

  “I didn’t choose anything,” Izzy murmured. “You don’t get to choose who you fall in love with.” He knew it now, that he was in love with the impossible, imperfectly perfect person that was Wyatt Abbott, and he’d fucked up so badly. There was no way Wyatt would forgive him, even if somehow Justin changed his mind. Not that he would, because he’d made up his mind and stopped listening.

  “You’re spiraling. Come get some coffee, it’s not like you’re going to sleep anyway.” Sam turned and walked off.

  Izzy dragged himself out of bed and went to the kitchenette to pick up the mug Sam had made for him. Then he went to sit with Sam at the small seating area. He’d liked this place so much. Liked the job, well, maybe not the bees so much, but everything else about it.

  He wasn’t sure what time it was, but maybe something like eight.

  Suddenly someone knocked on the door, and Izzy tensed.

  “It’s open!” Sam called, and when Izzy turned to look, Del Abbot stepped in.

  “Morning,” Del said awkwardly.

  “How can we help you, Mr. Abbot?” Sam asked, and something in Del’s expression told Izzy that Sam had been calling him Del before. This was Sam taking a step back for Izzy’s sake, and he didn’t want that to happen.

  “Sam, don’t…”

  “It’s all right, Izzy. I get it. Sam is your friend.” Del looked at Izzy. “You didn’t do this, did you?”

  Izzy shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Justin’s made up his mind.”

  “You don’t have to tell me what happened, but here.” He held out a card with some cop’s name on it. “This is the officer we’re supposed to contact if we can think of anything else. I’m giving it to you, so you can decide whether you want to just leave like Justin told you, or if you want to tell your side of the story to someone who might listen.”

  Izzy snorted at the thought Del Abbot believed cops listened to guys like him, but he picked up the card from where Del dropped it on the table.

  Del pushed away from the wall he’d been leaning on and walked back to the door. “And Izzy? I don’t appreciate you outing my kid, even to me. I get that he’s an adult now, but those weren’t your secrets to tell.” Just before he opened the door, he looked back at Izzy. “He needs someone special, and I don’t know if that’s you. He seems to think so, and from the look on your face, I’d say this isn’t the kind of situation that Justin thinks it is. Do I like the age difference? No. But it would be awfully hypocritical for me to say it’s too much, wouldn’t it?”

  With that, Del walked out and closed the door behind himself.

  * * * *

  Sam watched from the door as Izzy carried his stuff into his car. He’d made some calls, to Mrs. Rossi first, and then the officer in the card. He had about ten minutes to get to the Abbots’ house and then it would be showtime.

  “I’m going to head to work,” Sam said. “I hope you’ll be here when I get back.”

  Izzy smiled sadly at his friend, because that’s exactly what Sam had become. “I wouldn’t count on it.”

  “At least you’re fighting. That’s better than to just leave.” Sam walked to him and gave him a real hug, not one of those shitty man hugs.

  “Yeah. I think it’s time for me to fight for what I think is right.”

  “Just…keep your head, okay? Don’t get too pissed off. Choose your words this time.” Sam grinned at him, and Izzy cuffed him on the shoulder.

  “Asshole.”

  “Love you too, Izzy.”

  * * * *

  When Izzy parked his car in front of the Abbot house, Lettie and her dogs were in the side yard, doing some obedience thing or another.

  She gave him a jaunty wave without taking her eyes off the dogs. Fuck, Izzy would miss her.

  A cop car rolled into the yard, and Izzy felt a bit faint. He didn’t have the best experiences with cops. Then again, most people who looked like him and/or had his history didn’t.

  A red Mercedes got there last, Mrs. Rossi parking next to Izzy.

  The door to the house opened and Justin walked to the porch, looking at everyone with hard eyes. It was the same as the first time Izzy had stepped foot on this property, yet somehow completely different.

  “Justin,” Mrs. Rossi said as she walked past Izzy, patting Izzy’s shoulder.

  “Wanda, it’s good to see you.” Although the circumstances and all that, Izzy guessed. The unsaid words hung in the air between them all.

  The two officers sauntered up to the porch, too.

  “Mr. Abbot, Mrs. Rossi.” One of them said.

  The other looked at Izzy and nodded to him. “Mr. Kostas, I presume.”

  “Yeah. Officer Moore?” Izzy shook the offered hand.

  “Why don’t we all get inside and get to why Mr. Kostas has gathered us here,” Officer Moore said, and they filed in, Mrs. Rossi first, then all the men after her.

  * * * *

  Justin took them to the dining room, saying that there wasn’t enough space in his study. The living room was probably too nice for this sort of thing now, Izzy thought.

  Del joined them in the dining room, taking a seat next to Justin who sat at the end of the table while Mrs. Rossi took the other end. The cops took one side and Izzy sat next to Mrs. Rossi. It looked like the weirdest dinner party ever.

  “So Izzy, would you fill everyone in on why you called us here?” Mrs. Rossi asked in her kind, but no-bullshit tone.

  Izzy’s voice was scratchy when he spoke. “Well, Mr. Abbot, Del, came to give me Officer Moore’s card this morning and gave me a choice to try to make things right.”

  Justin’s gaze whipped to Del, who lifted his hands unapologetically.

  “Hey, give him a chance to talk.”

  Justin gritted his teeth and gave his husband a clear “we’ll talk about this later” look.

  “So I called Officer Moore and asked him and his partner to come here so we could settle this thing, before I leave.”

  “Yes, Vincent Chase and Matias Morales said that you told them there was no security system here,” Moore said, and his partner dug out a notepad from his pocket, ready to write down anything needed. “You want to tell me how that came about?”

  “Okay, so this is what happened,” Izzy started. He took in a deep breath, closed his eyes for a moment, and began to talk. “The day I moved out of the halfway house I lived in with Vinny Chase and several others, I crossed paths with Vinny and Morales. Morales is…he’s a mean guy, super homophobic. He kept talking shit when he came here to
fix my car one night before I moved to the property.”

  Mrs. Rossi suddenly reached out her hand to put it on Izzy’s wrist. It was only then he realized he was breathing funny, like an anxiety attack was on the horizon. He gave her a wavering smile.

  Moore leveled him with a stare. “Chase says you owed him money?”

  “Yeah, for the car, but I didn’t sell the Abbots out to them!” He reined his temper in with difficulty, because getting angry with cops was never a smart move. He also didn’t dare look down the table at Justin or Del, because he knew how bad it looked.

  Officer Moore watched him.

  “Those guys knew I was protective of the Abbots,” Izzy continued, only to have Justin snort loudly at the end of the table. “It’s true. And they used it against me. I thought they were just talking shit, not that they were planning anything. I…I’m stupid, everyone knows I’m stupid. I’ve been told that all my life. But this time being stupid and reacting to their taunts cost me”—Izzy took in a bit gulp of breath—”everything.”

  “So you’re saying you didn’t tell them about the lack of security system?” Moore asked.

  “No, I did, but I didn’t do it on purpose.” Izzy rubbed his free hand over his face. Mrs. Rossi hadn’t let go of his wrist yet. “They were talking shit about Justin and Del, really homophobic stuff, and they like goaded me, you know? Talking about these dumb rich people who didn’t even have any security alarms.”

  Office Moore’s partner nodded. “Chase actually said that you hadn’t warned them about the dogs.”

  “No, I didn’t warn them about the dogs!” Izzy knew his voice was getting louder and higher, his breathing becoming worse and worse. “I mean, I wouldn’t have anyway because those guys are assholes, but I didn’t know they were planning on breaking in! If I’d known that I would have told the Abbots.”

  “Izzy did nothing wrong,” Mrs. Rossi said suddenly, squeezing his wrist to keep him grounded as much as she could. “This is a misunderstanding. It’s a bunch of guys talking shit, not a conspiracy.”

  “He brought weed to my property,” Justin said mulishly.

  “Izzy, what happened there?” she asked gently.

  “I couldn’t sleep. Then I woke up to a panic attack, like I do sometimes when I have nightmares. I remembered that I had maybe two joints’ worth in my tin and made one. I smoked it because it’s the only thing that calms me down. I don’t—I mean I never smoke for fun. I don’t even like the smell, but it’s…”

  “But it’s the thing you had on hand?”

  “Yeah,” Izzy breathed out the word.

  Suddenly Wyatt walked in through the doorway, and Izzy knew he’d been listening. Wyatt walked to sit in the chair between Izzy and Del, and hugged Izzy’s arm as he pressed close.

  “Wyatt—” Justin started, but Del lifted a hand to stop him.

  “Is there anything more you need from Izzy, Officers?” Del asked.

  “No, I think it’s pretty straightforward from now on. They were trying to put the blame on Mr. Kostas, because that’s what guys like Chase and Morales do. Right now they’re trying to throw each other under the bus, but the way I see it, they’re both going back to prison for this. They were on parole.”

  “Indeed,” Mrs. Rossi said cheerily. “Neither of them was one of mine, but I’ve talked to my colleague who oversees their cases, and well, what Officer Moore here said.”

  “All right, and you have Izzy’s number if you need him further, right?” Del asked, getting a nod from Moore.

  “Thank you for calling us here to explain,” Moore said when he got to his feet.

  It took Izzy a moment to figure out he was being talked to, but then he nodded dumbly. “Yeah, of course.”

  Moore chuckled. “Don’t sell yourself short now. It’s pretty rare anyone with a history like yours comes forward and tells the truth willingly. Usually we have to chase down people even if they’re innocent, because they don’t trust us any more than we trust people like Chase and Morales. You, on the other hand, I think you’re on the right path.”

  “Th-thanks,” Izzy stuttered.

  Wyatt’s touch was the only thing that kept him calm and breathing right then.

  Wyatt started to give him instructions on breathing, and Izzy closed his eyes and tried to follow along.

  The cops left, but Mrs. Rossi lingered with the Abbots. By the time Izzy felt his heartbeat calm down again and opened his eyes, Del and Justin were quietly arguing something at their end of the table.

  “Feeling better?” Wyatt whispered, and Justin looked at him.

  “Yeah, thank you.” Then because it all came back to him, he said, “I’m sorry, Wyatt. I really am. I didn’t mean to—”

  “I know. It was…it wasn’t good, but I’ve talked to my dad now and things are better.” Wyatt smiled at him this heartbreaking, wobbly smile, and Izzy felt like he could truly breathe for the first time since last night.

  “Oh, thank God.” He leaned forward until his forehead was touching the table and just breathed through the relief trying to overwhelm him. After a moment, he leaned back again. “If I’d fucked up things between you and your family…Wyatt…”

  “You didn’t. I forgive you.”

  Izzy felt the relief swaying him, as if he got lightheaded suddenly. He smiled at Wyatt, who smiled back at him, and then Del cleared his throat behind Wyatt.

  Right. They weren’t alone and safe. Maybe there were now less people in the firing squad, but Izzy hadn’t stepped away safely yet. He squeezed Wyatt’s fingers apologetically, then forced himself to look at Del and Justin.

  He knew Mrs. Rossi would be on his side and that Wyatt was an adult. But this was still Justin and Del’s family and Justin’s business.

  “I’m sorry,” Izzy said, the words bursting out of his mouth. “I’ll still leave. You don’t…you don’t want to employ anyone as stupid as me anyway. You wouldn’t have if you knew. I guess…I guess I hide it well? I’m no good and I’m dangerous and I can’t do that to your family. Nobody should bring anything bad to this family and I don’t—” He let go of Wyatt’s hand and got up clumsily. “I’m sorry Wy, I love you, but I won’t put you into danger. I gotta leave.”

  Chapter 17

  “I’m sorry Wy, I love you, but I won’t put you into danger,” Izzy said, and Wyatt felt his heart shatter. “I gotta leave.”

  “Izzy, no!” Wyatt reached for him, but Izzy was already moving, already stumbling toward the door, and Wyatt’s fingers slid through air. He turned to Dad. “Dad!”

  Do something, Dad, please.

  But Izzy was already out of the room.

  “Justin,” Dad said softly.

  Justin looked at him, and looked at Wyatt, and then stood up and followed Izzy. Mrs. Rossi went with him. Wyatt expected to hear the front door slam, but he didn’t. He just heard low voices, and then silence. And then, a moment later, the snick of the front door as it closed softly.

  It should have been a slam, he thought wildly. It should have been louder and more dramatic than that, when it was his heart breaking.

  Justin walked back into the dining room. “He’s staying,” he said. “To work. But he’s not welcome in this house, and Wyatt, you’re not to go to the trailers.”

  Wyatt swallowed. “Justin, that’s not—”

  “No.” Justin cut him off. “I am being more than fair here.”

  And then he turned and walked away again.

  Wyatt stared at the table numbly, and Dad came and stood behind him. Put his hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

  “I don’t get it,” Wyatt said, his voice shaking. “It’s okay to be a baker, and it’s okay to be genderfluid, but it’s not okay to love Izzy?”

  “He’s worried about you,” Dad said softly. “So am I.”

  There were a hundred things Wyatt wanted to say, but he couldn’t find the right words. So he nodded instead, and bowed his head, and let the tears come. And Dad stood there through it all and didn’t say anything
. Maybe he couldn’t find the right words either.

  * * * *

  The next few days passed in a fog. Wyatt didn’t get out of bed much, and nobody made him. He didn’t even feel like baking, and that was a first. Dad made him an appointment with his old therapist, and Wyatt didn’t complain when Dad bundled him into the car and drove him there. He even felt a spike of something that felt like victory when he got outside and showed Dad his prescription for more Ativan: There! Told you I was messed up!

  It hadn’t been a productive session, because Wyatt hadn’t wanted to talk. Not about gender, not about baking, not about Izzy. So he’d sat there and picked at a loose thread in the knee of his jeans while Dr. Taylor had done most of the talking.

  That night he had his first nightmare in years. He was sitting on the couch in the living room, and Izzy was beside him, but when Wyatt tried to wake him Izzy didn’t move, and when Wyatt brushed his fingertips against Izzy’s cheek he was so cold.

  Wyatt woke up tangled in his sheets, sweating and panting for breath, and didn’t fall asleep again. It was still dark when he headed for the kitchen, needing to at least get that back. He made dough, punching it and pounding it until his muscles ached with the familiar burn, and the nightmare was nothing but a faint shadow.

  Dawn was breaking by the time Wyatt got his bread in the oven and started to clean the kitchen counter. He heard footsteps once, but didn’t turn around. There was only one person likely to be up quite so early, and Wyatt wasn’t ready to deal with Justin yet. And Justin wasn’t ready to deal with Wyatt either, he guessed, because he didn’t come into the kitchen and try to talk to him.

  A little while later he heard Lettie and the dogs heading outside for their morning run, and then Dad shuffled into the kitchen, yawning and stretching.

  “You made bread?” Dad asked, peering into the oven.

  Wyatt nodded, and untied his apron.

  “Smells good,” Dad said.

  Wyatt nodded again, wishing he could find that same comfort in the scent of baking bread that he usually did. But he couldn’t, not today. Everything felt muted and distant, as though Wyatt was watching from underwater.