A PERFECT RENDEZVOUS

A Fool For You

In the weeks that followed, Harry coped in the only way he knew how: Shunning the television set and radio completely, he immersed himself in work and a dozen civic and church activities, and he kept himself going until he dropped into bed at night, exhausted. He took on tutoring assignments, volunteered to head the church fund drive, and accepted the chairmanship of Keaton's Bicentennial Celebration, which was scheduled to take place during the last week of May with festivities that ranged from fireworks and a dance in the park to a carnival. No one in Keaton had any doubt about the cause of Harry's endless round of feverish activities, but as day faded into day, their surreptitious, pitying glances came less often, and they were never foolish enough, or heartless enough, to congratulate him on his bravery for turning in the man he had obviously loved.

Days merged into weeks that passed in a blur of frantic activity, but slowly, very slowly, Harry began to find his balance again. There were days when he actually went for four or five hours without thinking of Zayn, nights when he didn't reread his only letter before he fell asleep, and dawns when he didn't lie awake staring dry-eyed at the ceiling, remembering things like their silly snowball fight or his wonderful snow monster or the husky sound of his whispered endearments when he made love to him.

Louis spent every weekend in Keaton, staying first at the local motel and then, at his parents' invitation, at their house, and the entire town gossiped that the FBI agent who'd come to Keaton to arrest Harry Mathison had fallen in love with him instead. But Harry refused to consider that possibility. He refused because facing it would have forced Harry to tell him he was wasting his time, when Harry wanted to keep seeing him. Harry had to keep seeing him, because Louis could make him laugh. And because he reminded Harry of Zayn. And so they went out as a foursome with Ted and Katherine, and he took Harry home afterward and kissed him good night with slowly increasing ardor. It was during his sixth weekend in Keaton that his patience and restraint began to fray. They'd gone to a local movie with Ted and Katherine, and Harry had invited all three of them to his house for coffee. After Ted and Katherine left, Louis had caught his hands and pulled him to his feet.

"I had a wonderful weekend," he said and teasingly added, "even if you did make me play football with a bunch of handicapped kids who ran me ragged."

Harry smiled at that and Louis's face softened. "I love it when you smile at me," he whispered. "And just to make sure you smile whenever you think of me, I bought you something." Reaching into his pocket, he extracted a flat, velvet box, and put it into her hands, watching as Harry opened the box. In it was a small gold clown with tiny sapphire eyes that was suspended from a long, beautiful chain. When Harry carefully removed the chain, he noticed the clown's arms and legs jiggled, and he laughed. "He's beautiful," he said, "and funny."

"Good. Let's take this chain off and try him on," he said, noticing the slender chain beneath his collar. Harry clutched involuntarily at it, but it was too late. Louis had already pulled it out and seen the wedding band Zayn had in his pocket in Mexico.

Swearing under his breath, he caught Harry's shoulders. "Why?" he demanded, making a visible effort not to shake him. "Why are you torturing yourself by wearing this? You did the right thing when you turned him in!"

"I know," Harry said.

"Then let him go, damnit! He's in prison and he'll be there for the rest of his life. You have your life—a life that should be filled with a husband and children. What you need," he said, his voice softening as his hands slid down his arms, "is a man who'll take you to bed and make you forget that you ever went to bed with him. I know you did, Harry," he said when Harry's eyes snapped to his. "And it doesn't matter."

Harry put up his chin and said with quiet dignity, "When it stops mattering to me, then I'll be ready for someone else. Not before."

Caught between frustration and amusement, Louis touched his thumb to Harry's chin. "God, you're stubborn. What would you do," he said half-seriously, "if I went back to Dallas and never came back?"

"I'd miss you a lot."

"I suppose you think I'll settle for that for now," he said irritably because it was true.

In answer Harry gave him a plucky smile and nodded, "You're crazy about my mother's cooking."

Chuckling, he drew Harry into his arms. "I'm crazy about you. I'll see you next weekend."