Love in a photograph

1X

They visit Louis's father the following weekend, when the sun is high and hot in the sky. Summer is moving in fast, oppressive with its heat and exhausting with its work. Gemma's farm hands are good boys, work tirelessly under the beating sun, and Harry's sweating just watching them from the front seat of Gemma's car, all the windows rolled down so the wind will come through as they drive.

He gets the front seat this time, thanks to Louis's endless generosity. Louis's got shorter legs anyway, he claims, and he's not terribly uncomfortable in the backseat. They're just waiting on Gemma to find her sunbonnet inside and then they'll be on their way, driving the familiar old route up to Hastings to pay a visit to Troy's.

"Can't imagine doing that kinda work," Louis says, voicing Harry's own thoughts. "No wonder you had to get out of here."

"It's miserable," Harry agrees. "I'm just not cut out for it, I suppose. Can't say I'm upset about that," he shrugs.

"Me either," Louis chuckles, reaching immediately for the door handle so he'll have something to hold onto when Gemma finally comes out to the car, bonnet tied neatly on her head.

"Alright, boys, off we go," she says, putting the car in reverse and rocketing out of the driveway.

They get to Troy's in record time and, remarkably, no one dies. Harry feels like he hasn't been here in ages, but as he climbs out of the car and follows Louis through the front door, it feels like absolutely nothing has changed.

"Dad?" Louis calls, peeking around a few shelves in search of the old man. "Troy?"

It's a few moments before Troy's footsteps come lumbering down the stairs, and Louis fixes his hair quickly before Troy comes out from the door to the backroom. Troy looks confused, and then shocked, and then grins.

"Louis, my boy," he gasps, beckoning Louis over to him with one old, twisted up hand. "I didn't know you were back!"

"Wanted to surprise you," Louis says shyly, giving his father a quick hug. "How have you been?"

"Suppose you'd know if you ever wrote," Troy says, pulling away from Louis to give him a good onceover. "But that's my fault too, you know."

"Things are busy," Louis says, shrugging one shoulder. "For both of us, I'm sure. I'm in Boston now, you know, Dad. Harry's living with me while he's going to college, ain't that something?"

"Something," Troy says, glancing over Louis's shoulder at Harry. "Well, I'll be damned, you done grew up, hm?"

"Yes, sir," Harry says, stepping forward to shake Troy's hand. He only remembers meeting the man a few times when he was young, but he remembers him being brash, judgemental and crude. "What are you going to college for?" Troy asks, looking down his nose at Harry.

"Law, sir," Harry says. He doesn't mention that he's taking a year off, doesn't think it's relevant. "Louis was kind enough to let me stay with him when we ran into each other."

"Awful kind," Troy says, glancing at Louis again. "Tell you what, boys, there must be some
stream of ladies in and out of that place," he jokes, elbowing Louis playfully in the ribs. "Let's hear about your girls, hm?"

Gemma makes herself busy, ducking away from the conversation to wander the aisles. Louis laughs quietly and Harry flushes a little, glancing over at him.

"No ladies right now, Dad," Louis says, saving Harry from having to make any further comment. "We're both pretty busy."

Troy lets the smile drop from his face, eyes flicking back and forth between them a few times. "So you're telling me it's just the two of you in that apartment all day? Christ, what do the neighbours think? Look like a couple of queers, you do," he says.