CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN Chad

The Day Before

Bing Crosby and David Bowie were singing my favorite version of ‘The Little Drummer Boy' while I pulled another tray of Christmas cookies from the double oven.

Bowie was my father's favorite artist and as a child, I'd become a fan of most of his songs thanks to Dad's enthusiasm. Dad constantly played his music around the house and also when we drove somewhere without Mom, who lacked our love of Bowie.

As a five-year-old, I used to place a bucket over my head that I'd cut eyeholes into, pretending to be a spaced-out astronaut. I'd walk around the house singing one of his earliest hits that I knew nothing about, like I was Bowie himself. Of course, my father loved that I had the same passion that he held for the famous rock star.

"Parum-pa-pum-pum," I sang, glancing out of the kitchen window and seeing a Prius pull into the driveway.

I waited for the passenger to step out of the car that had an Uber sticker on the windshield. After a moment, a handsome man, perhaps a little older than me, stepped from the back seat. The rear hatch popped open, and he went around to retrieve what appeared to be a small carry-on luggage.

I watched as the Uber pulled away and the man turned and surveyed Cole's house. Remembering my manners, and assuming he must be a friend or client of Cole's, I hurried to the front door just as he rang the bell.

I glanced in the hall mirror before opening the door. I wore an old pair of Cole's sweatpants he'd made into shorts, and one of his fraternity T-shirts I'd stolen weeks ago for my own. I liked to believe that I could smell Cole on the clothes, even if I couldn't. I wiped a smudge of flour from my nose and tried to tame my mop of messy hair.

"Hi, can I help you?" I asked, opening the door to a man who looked even more handsome up close.

"Is Cole home?" he asked, looking past me as if he needed to verify for himself.

"No. I'm sorry, but he's in New York City until tomorrow evening," I said. "Was Cole expecting you?"

The man looked behind him at the quickly disappearing Uber. "Darn it. And no, I doubt he'd expect to see me," he admitted. "I sent the Uber away figuring Cole would be here since he usually works from home and it's the holidays.

"Normally you'd be correct," I replied, checking my manners as well as the dreary and cool ocean weather we were letting in the cozy house. "Would you like to come in? I could call you another Uber since you missed Cole."

After checking for the Uber one more time, he smiled nervously. "Are you sure that'd be okay? Maybe just until I warmed up before they get here?" he asked. "I'm sorry I arrived unannounced. I was planning on being right about Cole being home."

I wanted to ask him why he hadn't called to confirm, but that seemed rude considering the poor man seemed so disappointed. "Of course," I said, opening the door and stepping aside.

The stranger walked down the hall and then turned and waited for me as I closed the door and headed toward him. I came to his side and gestured toward the kitchen island. He made his way there as he looked around the open-concept rooms.

"Cole's style has changed," he noted, sliding his jacket off and hanging it on the back of a barstool. "Everything is brighter, more airy than usual."

"You knew Cole at his other home in New York?" I asked.

He quickly turned to me and away from his appraisal of the home décor. "You don't know who I am, do you?"

"I don't," I confirmed. "Are you a friend of Cole's, or a client?"

"Actually, I'm Alan Collins," he stated. I must have looked like I still had no clue. Maybe it was the addition of his last name that threw me. "I'm Alan, Alan. The ex," he added.

I physically felt my face fall. I must've looked gobsmacked. I wasn't expecting that introduction. "Oh," I mumbled. "I'm… well… I wasn't expecting that." I was flustered for a moment before regaining my footing. I didn't know this man. In fact, in typical fashion for Cole, he'd said little about Alan. Certainly nothing that would've caused me to have a poor opinion of the man in our kitchen.

"Surprise!" he uttered, appearing uncomfortable as well. "And I'm going to guess that you are Chad?"

"Yes. Uhm, yes, I am," I answered, suddenly messing with my hair and regretting my clothing choices.

Alan was stylish and quite attractive. He had a sense for fine fashion and it definitely showed. And of course, I felt inadequate, not a feeling I often let overcome me.

"You are as adorable as you were described," he stated. "The moment you answered the door, I knew it had to be the famous Chad I'd heard so much about these past few months."

"Thank you, I think," I managed to say. "How have you heard of me?" I asked.

"You're a friend of Perry Jackson's and his young husband, correct?"

"I am," I answered.

"And from what legend has shared in New York City circles, you are sort of a friend of Jack, Perry's deceased husband."

"I'm sorry, Alan, but you obviously have an advantage over me."

"After seeing you, Chad, I'm afraid that isn't true, as much as I wish it were."

I repositioned myself behind the kitchen island as I tried to assess the nature of his visit. He wasn't being mean; quite the contrary, actually. But he was blunt and very direct, not to say that I didn't appreciate that in a person.

"May I ask why you're here, Alan?" I inquired, doing my best to remain civil as well as polite to one of Cole's…what was Alan exactly now? I asked myself silently.

"Honestly," he began, diverting his gaze when I looked directly at him. "I came to ask Cole to give me a second chance."

He was direct, for sure. Good on him. "I wish you wouldn't do that," I declared, figuring I may as well join him in being direct. My response garnered more attention from him as he returned my gaze. "I've fallen in love with Cole," I added, leveling my stare and wondering what his response would be now.

He pursed his lips and I couldn't miss the pools developing in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it just as quickly. He looked away finally, just as a stifled sob escaped his lips.

"Sorry," he whispered. "I shouldn't have come. I knew it even when I was making my way here."

"You must have needed to say something, Alan," I whispered, making my way around the island. "Perhaps you needed to ask Cole that question or something more?"

He stared at me, now allowing the full rush of tears to escape his eyes. He slowly shook his head back and forth as he continued staring, the pain of a harsh reality clearly defined on his face.

"I needed to see you," he admitted, wiping his eyes. "I knew the question I wanted to ask Cole, but now… but… seeing…" he leaned over the island and wept uncontrollably.

I hurried to his side and placed my hand on his back. "Hey, you're okay here," I soothed. "You and I are fine, Alan. This is about you and Cole, my friend."

After several seconds of trying to control his emotions, he looked up and focused on my eyes, shaking his head in what seemed like disbelief. "It's true," he whispered, clearing his throat. "You are precisely as people described you."

"That's not fair," I argued. "I don't know these ‘people' you speak of."

"It doesn't matter," he said, looking away. "They aren't my true friends, anyway. They want Cole in their lives, not me. He always thought it was me that kept our friends close, but it was him," he stated. "However, he stopped calling them, so it was left up to me to carry on without him. It wasn't me they liked, as it turned out."

"I'm sure that can't be true," I disagreed. "A couple is only as strong as the individuals."

"That's the point," he said. "I let everyone down. I deserted the strong individual only to learn that I cannot stand on my own merit."

"And that's where your visit comes in?" I asked. "You wanted to ask Cole to try again with you?"

He brought his hands to his face and tried to rub the hurt away. I felt tremendous regret in him. Of course, I knew what the regret was about. He'd let Cole go, and now he realized the loss was bigger than he'd imagined.

"I know now how bad an idea that sounds like. Look at you. Listen to you, for God's sake. You're perfect for Cole," he stated. "I need to get out of your hair. Thank you for your kindness, Chad," he said. "I can wait outside."

"And then what?" I asked. "Run away from your feelings and pretend we never met?"

"Isn't that what you'd prefer?"

I chuckled. "Whatever you've been told about me by those people you mentioned, they don't know me as well as you think they do."

"Can you direct me to a hotel at least?" he asked. "I'll stay to warm up until Uber can get out this far, and then I'll leave."

"On Christmas weekend? Surely you must have somewhere to be?"

Alan remained silent as he looked away. I noticed his hands fidgeting in his lap and my heart broke immediately.

"No," he spoke softly. "I don't have a place to go."

"Good," I said. "You're spending it with us."