Page 31 of No Rhyme or Riesling

He heard his door open. John jerked upright in his chair as Ward strode into the office.

“Truck's dropped off,” Ward announced. “They said it should be ready tomorrow afternoon.”

John gave a nod in acknowledgment. One of their vineyard trucks had come due for service, so when Ward had made a passing joke about pestering his brother—who apparently worked at the shop where they took their vehicles—John had sent Ward to drop it off, just to get the man out of his hair for a few minutes.

“I can go pick it up tomorrow when it's ready, if you want,” Ward went on. “Need to drop off my own truck one of these days, anyway.” He shrugged. “Unless you need to get out for a bit.”

John cocked an eyebrow in question.

“If you don't mind me saying,” Ward said gently, “you look like you could use a break.”

John snorted a laugh.Ain't that the truth. But he didn't have time for a break. Not when so many people were depending on him to keep things running smoothly.

Ward sank down into the chair opposite him, putting them at eye level rather than towering over him. “Look, John. I know I've been distracted the past few days, and I apologize for that. I'll try to do better about keeping my personal shit at home and being one-hundred percent here. If that's been adding to your stress, I'm sorry.” He paused. “But if there's something else, if you want to talk…” Ward trailed off and laughed. “Stupidquestion, I know, since you never talk about anything personal, but the offer's there. Even if you just need someone to listen and commiserate and buy you a beer.” Ward shrugged. “We all need help sometimes.”

John conceded the point with a nod, but didn't say anything. Despite realizing that he could use some advice, he hadn't been able to make himself seek it out. Not even when he'd had Everett standing right in front of him the other morning. And Everett might have been the perfect person with whom to talk. The man was not only a daddy but was also in a committed, healthy relationship. Second to his parents, or even his brother, someone like Everett might have been ideal. Or maybe even Beau.Hell. Any one of the daddies in the group.

Except he couldn't bring himself to actually ask for help. This washisboy. His responsibility. He had to fix this problem himself.

John held back a sigh. He wished they could simply jump forward in time and get the anniversary of Frank's death behind them. Having it slowly but steadily approach was making the anticipation that much worse.

The coming date had been bad enough when it was just him. In years past, John had always been tempted to take the day off work, worried that he'd be too distracted to properly focus on his job. Then he'd wound up going in anyway, not wanting to let his people down. It hadn't been easy, but he'd pushed through the clamoring memories that the date always brought to the surface, then got the job done.

But now? With Adam to think about? How did Adam get through the anniversary each year? The poor kid had so much more loss to deal with surrounding that time.

First, John kicking Adam out of his bed, making him feel unwanted, even though that had been the furthest thing from the truth. Then his dad's sudden, unexpected death. Cominghome to find John had moved away, leaving him with no support. The loss of his birthdays, since Adam had to wake up on the morning of his eighteenth and remember he was totally alone. The loss of his dreams to medically transition. The loss of whatever other plans the boy had made for himself. College? Auditions? A steady gig with a band? Not even John knew what the boy's dreams had been back then, and the two of them had spent more time together than Adam had with any of his high school friends.

Adam had been forced into adulthood overnight. Not because he'd turned eighteen, but because he had to handle everything on his own.Christ. John wished he could go back. Wished he would have chosen to stay and try to help Adam rather than running away from his own guilt. He wished he could give Adam some of his innocence back. Hell, even the excitement of a birthday. John couldn't care less about his own birthday anymore—he was too old for that—but Adam was still young. The boy ought to be able to enjoy his.

But John knew Adam wouldn't allow it. His birthday was just another subject that was completely off-limits.

John let out a heavy sigh. He'd have to be ready for anything as the date drew nearer. He knew he could get through it all—not easily, but he'd managed before—but could Adam do the same?

After the boy's drunken episode that past weekend, John wasn't sure anymore.

Before John's traitorous mouth could start blurting out his thoughts—all of them clamoring for release from his tightly held control—he got interrupted by the sound of a knock on his door. John felt equal parts relieved and annoyed as he called out, “Come in.”

The door opened, and Everett peeked into the office. “Ah! Good. You're both still here.”

John shot to his feet, but Everett waved him down with a gentle chuckle.

“I almost called,” Everett said, crossing the room, “but I know how much you hate phones, and I needed the excuse for a walk anyway.” He held out a sheet of paper, which John recognized, even at a distance, as a purchase order from the local warehouse that distributed their wines to stores and restaurants all across California. “I'll pass this on to our warehouse guys in the morning, but I wanted to keep you in the loop. The estate cab is officially on the approved list for distribution to local chain grocery stores–”

“Finally!” John gasped, taking the purchase order from him.

“So the distributor is asking if they can get two pallets of it delivered tomorrow, since they've already got pending sales. I know they usually pick up from us on Mondays, but–”

“No, that's fine,” John insisted. He'd get that wine shipped out first thing in the morning, even if he had to load it up and drive it over himself. “I'll make sure that's ready to go before I leave tonight.”

John set the purchase order aside, right on top of his to-do pile. The damned thing seemed to keep growing instead of shrinking, despite how much he'd gotten done over the past few days. He wanted to finish up a couple more things there in his office before heading into the storage warehouse to have the two pallets loaded onto the flatbed. When he looked back up, he fully expected Everett to leave, but instead, the man sank into a chair and gave Ward a big smile.

“So?” Everett asked. “I haven't seen you since the party and I've been curious to know. How did it feel, if you don't mind me asking? Having a boy in your arms, I mean.”

Ward blushed, and a shy smile took over his face as he shifted in the chair. “It felt…good. Weird, but good.”

Christ. John inwardly sighed. The two men were going to sit and chitchat in his office? That was just what he needed. He snatched up the purchase order and stood, muttering an apology for the disruption before he strode across his office and headed out to the warehouse. Maybe they'd be done by the time he got back.

John paused just inside the warehouse, surprised to find it dark until he remembered the time. After six, so everyone had already gone home. He almost regretted having to turn on the lights, reveling for a moment in the dark, cool, silent space. Still, there was work to be done, so he flicked the switches, the overhead lights coming on in sections, lighting up the enormous space that housed all his finished products. The sight made him smile.

---