A Walk in the Park--Larry Stylinson

Struggle for Understanding

Louis still had not told his parents about Harry. He was afraid this amazing dream would turn out to be just that—a dream. That he'd wake up and it wouldn't be real. He really wanted his family to meet Harry, but it was too soon. Maybe Christmas time. That was a little over six months away. By then, he should know for sure if it was going to work. The thought of them flying to England together sounded really good.

He called his mum as he had planned to. His dad was at work, and he felt bad about that. But if he called when his dad was home, it would be the wee hours of the morning in California. He should have waited for the weekend . . . next time he'd do just that.

"Louis, you sound chuffed!" remarked his mum. So . . . mother always knew everything. She had sensed the happiness in his voice.

"Life is goin' well," he said by way of an answer. Should he tell her? Maybe the next call. Louis wasn't superstitious, but he didn't want to jinx anything by telling her too soon. He vacillated back and forth. So maybe he was a little superstitious.

"I'm always so happy to hear your voice, and the weather is good there, yeah?"

"It's perfect. But then, California usually has perfect weather."

His mother had been to the US to visit once in the two years he'd been here, and had enjoyed it a lot, but had been just as eager to get home, even though her tears flowed freely at leaving her son. She was a true Brit. She had been baffled when there was no rain during her stay. Rain was a way of life for her.

"Are you eatin' your veggies?"

"Yes, mum," sighed Louis. She was always worried about his nutrition. She needn't have been, since Harry cooked for him and always made sure he got his vegetables. He had a sudden urge to tell her that, but kept himself in check. He was so damn proud of Harry that what he really wanted to do was tell the whole world.

"How are things in Donny?"

"Same as always. Your father is thinkin' of retirin' soon."

Hard for Louis to believe his father was near retirement age. But he was fifty-eight, after all. And his sister—when he thought of her it was mostly of when she'd been a little girl. Now she was grown and married. The years had evaporated, falling away in what seemed like only a moment.

When he rang off, fifteen minutes later, Harry wasn't in the room. He'd left to give Louis privacy. Through the window, Louis could see him in front of the apartment, hands in his front pockets, casually walking about as if as if he were a security guard at a place where there was little to no crime. He looked thoughtful and at ease. Louis found himself wondering if Harry felt comfortable--like this was home. He certainly acted like it.

Louis felt vulnerable now. As if his heart could be shredded so easily should Harry decide not to continue with their relationship. He was trying to be pragmatic and keep it real. But he found it very disturbing when he allowed his mind to even wander in that direction.

All the nights after the gym when Harry would cuddle up and whisper "kissy" were making Louis softer than he ever dreamed he would be. Louis was finding out that he was taking to romance quite naturally.

But he still had to be careful about sex. He was leery of approaching Harry with the intention of touching him in certain ways because Harry had been abused. Not that he wasn't completely happy with how things were, because he was. But he and Harry did need to talk about where the boundaries would be.

He went outside. "Ready to walk some dogs?"

Harry's face lit up, his dimples drawing Louis in. "Sure!"