Chapter Fourteen

“Not that I’m complaining in the slightest…” Daniel sets out three plates, silverware, and wine glasses at the kitchen table. “But where exactly do your parents think you are?”

Tony’s back is turned to Daniel, and he’s keeping an eye on the gnocchi, catching them as they float to the top and depositing them into the strainer. He’s wearing Daniel’s green apron and a chunky gray sweater, and it’s doing incredibly stupid things to Daniel’s insides to see him looking so domestic.

“I told them I’d be with you.” Tony smiles over his shoulder. “It’s fine. My mom likes you.”

“Your mom has barely met me. And it’s Christmas Eve.”

“My mom has seen you three separate times. In her book, you’ve met. You’re on her Christmas cookie list. Anyway, as long as I make it in time for midnight Mass, it’s all good. We do our celebrating tomorrow.”

“If you’re sure.” Daniel tries and fails to hide his delight that he’s on the Christmas cookie list. So sue him. Last time he picked up Tony, the whole house smelled of toasted almonds and cinnamon.

The last of the gnocchi rescued from the water, Tony wanders over to press a kiss to the top of Daniel’s head. “Anyone ever tell you that you worry too much?”

“You, constantly.” Daniel leans back in his chair to pull Tony down for a real kiss by the front of his apron.

“I’m a smart man.” Tony grins against his lips. “How ’bout that your sink is still clogged and it makes cooking in your kitchen a pain in the neck?”

“Also, you, constantly.”

In the two weeks since their…Daniel’s been using the word “reconciliation,” but he’s not sure that covers it entirely. Maybe, if he continues to be as outrageously lucky as he currently is, he’ll call it an anniversary in the future. Either way, in the two weeks since, they’ve barely gone a day without seeing each other. Sometimes, Tony comes over after his shift in the garage; other times, Daniel will meet him for lunch or dinner in Kingston. It’s time away from Lobell he would have previously been using to stay caught up on his grading, but he’s decided to be nicer to himself and to let himself enjoy this.

He remembers when he got together with Jeff, how after a few dates on the weekend, they’d settle seamlessly into evenings at one of their places, grading and watching TV together. They moved in together not because they wanted each other around that much but because it was more convenient than meeting up in different places all the time.

Daniel is discovering there are some things worth being inconvenienced for, and also he’s an idiot.

Colette knocks on the door at six sharp. She has a bottle of white in one hand and no shoes on.

“Merry Christmas Eve,” Daniel greets her.

She rolls her eyes and hands over the wine. “Merry Christmas Eve. Thank you for the invitation.”

Between their legs, Worf attempts to escape the confines of the apartment. Colette comes in and lets the door click shut behind her.

“Of course.” Daniel sets the bottle down on the table. “Since when do you thank me. You’re here all the time.”

She shrugs. “It’s a special occasion, and your boyfriend is here.”

Tony grins and gives her finger guns as a greeting before returning to ladling tomatoes and garlic onto toasted baguette slices. Daniel is severely impressed at how easily he and Colette have been forgiven for the havoc they’ve caused in Tony’s family. According to Tony, Colette telling the police was the sensible thing, and on balance, he’s glad not to be keeping Gianna’s secret anymore. Colette apologized nonetheless, and they’ve been getting along swimmingly ever since.

“And you should be thankful,” Daniel tells Colette as they settle down and he pours the wine. “Turns out he’s a much better cook than either of us.”

“Not a high bar, in my case.” Colette sips her wine. “But much appreciated. Would you like some wine, Tony?”

He shakes his head. “I have to drive to Kingston sooner or later for church.”

“Ah, the bane of the practicing Catholic,” Colette says dryly.

“Hey now.” Tony sets the appetizer on the table they dragged in from Daniel’s office specifically for the occasion and takes his seat. “Let’s not get insulting. I go to Mass to make my ma happy, not because I’m part of the club.”

Daniel laughs as he takes a bite of bruschetta. “Bet hearing that wouldn’t make her happy.”

“Yeah, well.” Tony picks up his own slice. “I’m about due a major disappointment. Can’t let my sister take all the heat.”

Colette freezes, bruschetta in hand.

“How is she holding up?” Daniel asks, kicking Colette under the table.

Tony sighs. “Gigi’s tough. She was all set to do this on her own before he died, you know? I think she mostly hates all the attention and that people know now.”

“Has she thought about…”

“Yeah. She says she’ll call them in the new year. I don’t know what her game plan is, honestly. She’s due in about two months. Not a lot of time to get to know Mario’s parents and figure out if she wants them in the picture, or if they even want to be in the picture.”

“I wonder what would have happened if he’d lived.” It’s rhetorical, more of a thought Daniel hasn’t been able to shake loose than a question either of them can answer. “Maybe they’d have worked it out.”

“I doubt it. He’d moved on to Lily by then,” Colette reminds him.

Right. Lily.

“She got released from the hospital yesterday. I got an email from Natalie—that’s another student in our class,” Daniel adds for Tony’s benefit.

“That’s good.” Tony bites into his bruschetta. “Maybe she and Gigi can meet up some time.”

They chew and contemplate in silence for a moment.

Worf squawks as he climbs up onto the couch in the living room.

“Weirdest support group ever,” Daniel decides eventually.

“What would they even call it?” Colette wonders.

“I Fucked My Dead Professor Fridays?” Tony suggests.

They laugh, and then Tony says, “I’m definitely going to hell.”

Daniel helps him clear off the smaller plates for the appetizer, and they set about frying up the gnocchi in pesto.

“They still haven’t made any decisions about Andrew, have they?” Colette asks, leaning back in her chair.

Daniel shakes his head. “At least, not as far as I know.”

“This is corpse guy, right?” Tony asks, dishing up the first plate.

“Yeah.”

It’s a pretty awkward situation for the college to be in. Apparently, Andrew has been placed in a closed ward for the time being, but no further information has been released about whether he did it. His creepy altar and his borderline stalking of both Mario and Colette haven’t been made public, although Daniel wouldn’t be surprised if at least a few students had the same bright idea to break into his room. It seems likely he’s being accused of something, but there have been no press releases or, according to Stacy, unofficial communications to the president’s office.

“Did I tell you Detective Taylor called yesterday?” Colette wrinkles her nose slightly.

“No,” Daniel says, and then, “thanks, babe,” as he takes his plate.

“This smells delicious, Tony.” Colette smiles at Tony. “Thank you.”

“Welcome. What did the detective want?”

“To know more about sin-eaters.” Colette’s tone is dark. She still feels guilty that Andrew continues to be under arrest absent meaningful evidence.

“That’s the thing Andrew keeps going on about?” Tony looks to Daniel for confirmation. “Is it some sort of cult thing?”

Colette spears a piece of gnocchi on her fork. “Is the sacramental wine you’ll drink tonight some sort of cult thing?”

“Absolutely,” Tony confirms blithely.

She glares at him. “Sin-eaters in Welsh tradition weren’t that different. The idea was that at funerals, the deceased’s family would pay to have someone present who would ceremonially eat a crust of bread and drink a cup of beer, and the person would symbolically take on the sins of the dead, letting them pass on to heaven.”

Daniel swallows his food. “That’s a lot less creepy than I thought.”

“Well, his thesis suggestion was a film about a sin-eater eating the actual flesh of the sinner, rather than a symbol.”

“Yeah, but the setup in his room was bread and beer, right?”

“Yes, but I think the more relevant aspect is that he believed in the practice.”

Sighing, Daniel turns to his food again. She’s not wrong, of course. It doesn’t sit right with him; he hasn’t seen any proof or much motive. He’s also not a real detective, he reminds himself.

“Gianna said she was friends with him last year.” Tony directs the words mostly to his plate.

He must feel the weight of both their eyes on him because he looks up eventually, sheepishly. “She won’t say much about it, and I’m not starting up with your detective schtick. I just wanted to know. She met him in Lombardi’s class. They were both into…you know, spooky shit.”

“Gianna’s got a kind of goth thing going on,” Daniel translates for Colette.

“She said he was nice, but he had a lot of shit going on, and he got pretty weird. Apparently, he was warning her off Lombardi. Call me crazy, but I would have done the same if I’d known.”

“Hm,” Colette considers. “Perhaps he was jealous?”

“That is a motive,” Daniel agrees. “Did you see the police are getting access to Lobell’s email server?” It had been the last point of interest in the pre-Christmas email blast, probably squished onto the very end of the email in the hope that no one would see it.

Daniel saw.

Daniel’s been thinking about it ever since.

“Which is a stunning breach of privacy.” Colette stabs another bite of gnocchi viciously. “Why they couldn’t keep it to Mario and Andrew’s emails…”

“I’m guessing the answer is missing manpower.” Daniel’s been debating whether he should offer his questionable skills to help out. “Our IT administrators are basically only Clark from computer science and, well, Stacy. And she has about twelve other jobs.”

“The lack of funding in education continues to astound me.” It’s the start of one of Colette’s favorite complaints about the US, none of which Tony has been fortunate enough to receive so far. Daniel’s not sure Christmas is the right time to expose him.

“I mean, if Lobell had an endowment…” Daniel starts.

“A what now?” Tony asks.

“Um…most colleges have massive investment funds from the hundreds of thousands of dollars of tuition they rake in every year, but Lobell refuses to do that, so the money doesn’t really accumulate much interest and we’re always relying on donations. On balance, it’s more ethical, but it’s a really stupid way to run a college.”

Again, it’s Worf who interrupts the ensuing silence by trotting up beside the table and meowing loudly in a plea for attention or food.

“This is not a Christmas topic,” Daniel decides.

“We should make it a rule,” Tony agrees, eyes sparkling. “No murder and no money at the dinner table.”

“Boring,” Colette objects. “I thought we were going to apply for that crime project, Daniel. That will mean lots of murder at the dinner table.”

“So long as you guys stick with fictional murder.”

Daniel smiles at the thought that Tony intends to be around for future dinners. “I think we can agree to that.”

Still, they manage to steer clear of the topic for the rest of the evening.

It’s a more restful holiday than Daniel remembers his Christmases alone being. Maybe it’s due to how much stress he’s been under, but the contrast is stark. Instead of staying home and turning his phone off, he skypes with his mom and dad and watches them unwrap the gifts he sent. He did wrap them in Hannukah-themed paper, a last vestige of his years-long protest against Christmas, but he’s beginning to see that a full boycott was more childish obstinance that hurt his family than a reasonable protest of Christmas capitalism. He goes for a winter hike down to Tivoli Bays with Tony on Boxing Day, unsteady on the roots and icy patches even in their winter boots. It’s worth it to show Tony a new view of the Hudson; it’s worth it to have a new kiss by the river to remember.

On the twenty-eighth, they make eggnog and gingerbread, mostly so Daniel can give something to Tony’s mom in return for the entire box of cookies she had Tony bring him, and Meredith calls while they’re in the middle of cutting out the cookies. Daniel doesn’t tell her who Tony is to him, but he can tell he doesn’t have to by her probing questions. Weirdly, being given the third degree by Daniel’s sister seems to make Tony happy.

On the thirty-first, Daniel finds himself outside a bar in Kingston where Tony and his friends have celebrated New Year’s since they were of legal drinking age.

“You’re really sure about this?” he asks for probably the eighth time.

“Yeah,” Tony says easily.

“And I’m not…pretending we’re just friends or something?”

“Eh, I’m about 85 percent certain they all know I’m gay.”

“Fifteen percent is a really large margin of error. Also, what if it gets back to your parents?”

“You’re really worried about that, huh?”

“How are you not worried about that? I don’t want to be the guy who fucks up your life by accidentally outing you.”

Tony grasps him by the lapels of his fleece jacket and presses a smacking kiss to his lips. “You think too much. It’s sweet, but I’m not about to force you into the closet. Have a little hope that my friends won’t immediately rat me out.”

“Okay. Trusting you.”

The bar is cozy in a very Kingston way, a bit cluttered and eclectic as if not sure whether it should be displaying scenic paintings of the river or fishing equipment. It’s full to bursting already at barely past 8:00 p.m., given the date, but the bartender still spots them instantly. He greets Tony by name and immediately passes him an amber ale from a local brewery.

“One for your friend too?” he asks, and Tony raises an eyebrow at Daniel.

Daniel shrugs and nods and, beer in hand, follows Tony to a crowded booth in the corner.

Tony’s greeted by cheers and hugs from a crowd that looks, to Daniel, not all that different from his students. They’re a little older, sure, but not as old as Daniel (which is a bad thought he’ll be shelving immediately).

“I brought someone,” Tony tells the group, easily audible above the murmur of voices in the bar. “This is Daniel.”

Among Tony’s friends, there’s one person with blue hair who introduces themself to Daniel with a name he forgets instantly and they/them pronouns; two girls with multiple ear piercings; and four guys, two of whom are called Blake and all of whom are wearing some form of plaid.

“Oh,” Daniel mutters to Tony once he’s been introduced. “I see why you weren’t worried.”

“Huh?”

Daniel shakes his head. “Later.”

They’re a friendly bunch. They almost remind Daniel of him, Mari, and Paul when they first met, if they hadn’t all been stupid enough to get PhDs at the time. One of the girls (Lisa, Daniel’s about halfway convinced) is a teacher, the blue-haired friend and one of the Blakes got degrees in social work and now have jobs in a care home and a hospital, respectively. The other Blake started the brewery that made the beer Daniel’s drinking.

It’s not half bad.

Daniel chats with Lisa (if it’s not her name, it’s too late now for Daniel to ask) for a while about the vagaries of working in education before they get distracted by Blake number one and Charlie, which turns out to be blue hair’s name, one-upping each other with horror stories about public health.

“And what about you, Anthony?” Beer Blake asks pointedly. “You’ve been quiet.”

“True.” Lisa laughs. “Usually, you’re the life of the party.”

Daniel has the absolute pleasure of watching Tony flush red all the way up to his ears when he sneaks a glance over at Daniel.

“Things have been…kind of a mess recently,” Tony admits. “With my family and stuff.”

“Yeah, what gives?” Hospital Blake asks. “Last I heard, you were going to move out.”

The girl with the cartilage piercing who isn’t Lisa groans. “Jesus, Blake, that was in July. Do you not keep up at all?”

Tony shrugs. “Things happened. It got delayed.”

Beer Blake shakes his head in disappointment. “I was hoping we’d have a cool place to chill in Kingston that isn’t, like, our parents’ houses.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Tony says dryly.

Charlie shakes their head “Don’t listen to them, Tony. Is your family, okay?”

“Getting there. I’m gonna get another round. Anyone want anything?”

“I’ll help,” Daniel offers quickly.

At the bar, he asks, “You okay?” as quietly as he can while still being heard.

“Yeah. It’s just…uh, maybe you were right and this is more than I thought.”

“Wanna get some air?”

They go outside instead of getting more beers. Beer Blake will have to forgive them for the wait.

“I don’t even know where to start with them,” Tony admits. “I mean, I love them all, but I’ve only told Charlie about the stuff with Gigi. I didn’t even tell anyone about you.”

Daniel nods slowly. “It’s a lot. You don’t have to tell anyone anything before you’re ready.”

“I brought you here because I wanted them to meet you.” Tony runs a hand over the top of his head, tugging his ponytail into place.

“You’re allowed to change your mind. I will say though, it might not be super shocking to them.”

“Hm?”

“It seems like most of your friends are queer.”

“Oh.” Tony blinks as if that thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. “Yeah, they are. They’ll be cool about it. That’s not…”

“What is it then?”

“You know how you said I didn’t have to tell anyone before I was ready?”

Daniel nods.

“Well, I always kinda thought… This is stupid, but I always thought I was gonna wait until there was something to tell. Until I was with someone worth telling about. I mean, I know it’s supposed to be about me and my identity or whatever—that’s how Charlie and Blake used to talk about it anyway—but I never really wanted to rock the boat, you know? I wanted to work with my dad. I wanted to stay with my family for a while longer after school. I love them. I figured, when it was important, I’d be ready.”

“Okay.” Daniel tries to parse out everything Tony said to find the right answer. He desperately wants to ask which Blake, but that’s probably not the right tack. “So, I’m hearing that I’m important, which I like.”

Tony laughs and pokes him in the side.

“You know what one of my favorite things about you is?”

“The ’stache.”

Daniel laughs. “Weirdly, yes. But I was gonna say how comfortable with yourself you are.”

Tony glares at him. “Do I seem comfortable right now?”

“No. Not like… You’re so good at saying what you mean and being who you are, not because you don’t care what people think about you but because you’ve…you’ve put thought into it, you know? You didn’t stay at your parents’ place for years because you forgot to move out or something. You thought about it, and you made a decision to wait until the time was right for you. You don’t let other people decide who you are, not even me. And I really like that about you.”

“Okay.” Tony smiles slowly, which is progress. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at, but this is making me feel better.”

“You don’t have to leap out of the closet. You can…I don’t know…leave the door on the lean. Be who you are with no extra explanations. If someone asks, you can tell them what you just told me, about wanting to wait, but you don’t have to. Just because you’ve thought about it a lot doesn’t mean you owe people explanations.”

Tony takes a deep breath. “That sounds…workable.”

“But, uh, these are your friends. They wanna be there for you. Not only about…me, but about Gianna.”

“Yeah, yeah, I guess you’re right.” Tony takes a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

He slips back inside the bar at the same moment Lisa slips out. She holds up a finger to warn Daniel to stay put.

“So.” She has a pleasant, friendly voice, but Daniel gets the impression she’s the kind of teacher who knows how to strike a very different tone when she needs to. “Tony’s never brought anyone to these things.”

“Yeah.” It’s kind of unfair that Daniel is still getting this talk even if Tony isn’t going to actually say anything. “He mentioned.”

“And we’re all really glad he did bring someone today.”

“So am I.”

“And if you give him a reason to regret bringing someone, we’re all going to be really pissed.”

Daniel is very thankful Tony didn’t introduce him before New York. “I’m really not planning on it.”

“Good.” She nods decisively.

“How did you get saddled with that talk?” Daniel asks, mostly out of idle curiosity.

“It’s my penance for being the straight friend. Also, Charlie would be way scarier, and we like you so far.”

He takes a breath before responding, looking for the right words. “I’ll take it. I know you all have known him longer, but he’s really nervous about this, and I think he needs you all to…not comment until he’s used to it. If that’s okay.”

It’s good for Daniel’s ego to occasionally have people younger than him raise their eyebrows at him as though he just said the stupidest thing imaginable. It doesn’t feel great, but it builds character.

“Dude,” Lisa says, which ruins the effect of her absolutely withering look. “We’ve been not commenting on Tony’s whole deal for about ten years longer than you’ve even known him.”

Daniel tilts his head to the side, trying to formulate a question about that without sounding incredibly nosy. He comes up blank and decides to go for broke instead. “Anything you could tell me about that?” he asks as casually as he can.

It’s a good thing there isn’t much business in glaring people to death for women about five foot nothing, because Lisa would make a killing. Possibly literally. “I’m sure he’ll tell you all about his sordid past in his own sweet time.”

“Sure. I’m not asking about who in your group has been with whom.” He’s betting on Lisa and at least one of the Blakes, but given that she’s here with one of the other guys whose name he already forgot, he knows better than to mention it. “I’m asking about his support system, I guess.”

Her face softens. “It’s waiting in the wings for him. I know Charlie’s had a lot of talks with him about…I don’t know, gender and sexuality and all that, but they said it was all theoretical. Tony never really talks about himself or his problems. He’s too busy listening to other people do that.”

“I think…” Daniel pauses so he can get the words right. “I think he’s spent a lot of time thinking about things, for himself, by himself. And I think someday, he’s going to be ready to talk about it. And I’m here for that, of course, I am. But…”

“So are we.” Lisa slips her arm through his elbow and leads him inside. “Definitely got a good feeling about you,” she adds, almost as an afterthought.

She must whisper to the others to let Tony come to them on his own time while Daniel and Tony are grabbing that second round (that’s now a quarter of an hour too late) because no one presses them. Tony does end up telling Gianna’s story once he’s gotten another drink in, to general sympathy and not a little rage about Mario. Hospital Blake, in particular, has some choice words Daniel wishes he thought to record.

Tony doesn’t kiss him at midnight, but he does kiss him at ten after in the cramped hallway leading to the bathroom. Beer Blake spots them through the partially open door of the men’s room and shoots Daniel a thumbs-up.

Really, the worst part of the night is sneaking up the fire escape to Tony’s room above the garage while fairly tipsy. Daniel’s definitely had too much to drive home, and Tony says he warned his parents Daniel might stay over. It still feels like he’s half his age as they pull off the purple bedspread and squeeze into the too-small bed in Tony’s room.

“I feel like I’m doing something illegal,” he mutters into the back of Tony’s neck as they try to arrange themselves in the bed as quietly as possible.

Tony huffs a laugh. “Go to sleep, baby.”

Somewhere on the floor, Daniel’s phone flashes with a missed call from the sheriff’s department.