Don't Ask, Don't Tell

Chapter 25

 People on the television laughed; eyes wrinkly, teeth sparkling, heads tilting. The last time Samuel had laughed like that was with Rivers. The lapping waves had absorbed some of their noises on that early morning when Rivers had made fun of Leah's latest failed date or recounted the nth recruit screw-up. It didn't matter—Samuel's heart hadn't felt so light in years.

Rivers was gay then. He hid it so well, but didn't fear it. Why?

What was in his head when their shoulders had touched, their fingers brushed, when they shared those lingering gazes after a chuckle? Did Rivers allow himself to dream of him? Did his hand move to the rhythm of those fantasies?

A day before, Samuel was surfing on the wave of his intoxicated infatuation. What an exciting limbo to be! Rivers shone bright like a knight and savior, a breath of fresh air. But too much oxygen was suffocating. It got to Samuel's head, clouding its thoughts—what a pathetic excuse of a crime, of a man, of a human!

Still, Rivers was the constant to Samuel's regression. In an instant, he'd had stolen Samuel's pride, his relationship, and his fucking peace of mind. Because Rivers had the upper hand, after all—he knew Samuel had no one to turn to, not a soul who would listen without destroying his life.

Except one.

"Samuel?"

He spun around on the sofa. His mother stood in the kitchenette, holding a steaming white tray, the microwave door open behind her.

"Sorry, what?"

With a swing of her hip, Vivian closed the microwave, then placed the food on the tiny table for one.

"Pepsi or beer?"

"Oh, uh... Pepsi please." Samuel rush into the kitchen, the aroma of besciamella sauce watering his mouth. He removed two plates from the cherry wood cupboard on the right. "It smells delicious."

"Thank you, sweetie. If I knew you'd stop by, I'd have made a fresh one."

"No, Ma. There's no need. This will be amazing, as usual."

A slow smile formed on her lips when she emerged from the fridge. "It's so good to have you here."

"It's good to be here." As the world capsized, the place he'd avoided all those years was now his haven. In the time machine of his childhood home, nothing new could hurt him.

Samuel grabbed a spatula and inched it into the lasagna, but Vivian took it from him. "Bring the drinks to the living room. Let me take care of this."

Without her heels and make-up on, she looked small and fragile, yet her innate sweetness seeped stronger through her love-filled eyes.

"Thanks, Ma."

The volume on the TV rose on its own with the commercial break, screaming of biodegradable pods and whiter whites. Samuel turned it down with the remote, then prepared the two foldaway tables in front of the sofa. Vivian walked in a moment later.

"Do you want to watch something else?" She served Samuel, then settled on the mustard corduroy cushion next to him as Melrose Place resume from its pre-commercial cliffhanger.

"No. Now I wanna fid out if Amanda goes to prison." Samuel gave her a half-smile. "I didn't know you were into young adult drama."

Vivian shrugged, mimicking his smirk. "It's good though, isn't it?"

Samuel grinned, tucking into the scorching lasagna that made him pant like a drunk dragon.

"Careful, sweetie!"

He fanned his tongue and gulped a hefty swig of ice-cold Pepsi. "Deadly but delicious." The injury gave him a lisp.

Vivian picked a fluff from his t-shirt, chuckling. "Don't be greedy. Give it a minute."