Page 133 of Rhymes with Metaphor
“Oh?”Reg started to worry.Because while Reg was glad he’d ended his relationship with Flip, he didn’t wish him any harm and would never have followed through on his threat to expose him.
“And he asked about us.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Nothing,” said Joel.“Except that we’re together.”
Reg slid his arms inside Joel’s coat, put his arms around him, and held him.“I’m sorry I left you alone.”
“I’m not afraid of him,” said Joel.“I’m angry.”
“Was he baiting you?”Reg stroked Joel’s back.
“I don’t know,” said Joel.He kissed Reg until the elevator reached the ground floor and pinged, and Reg eased him away.
“Let’s go home,” said Joel.
“We’ve got Ramsay’s party to go to.You’ll enjoy it more than Silas’s.I promise.”
When they pulled into the parking garage, Joel said, “Aren’t we going to Ramsay’s party?”
“We are.But I won’t be in a fit state to drive us home afterwards, so I’m calling an Uber.”Reg took out his phone.
“Is it far?”
“Not too.”
“I’d rather walk, then,” said Joel.
“All right.”
When the cold air hit them, Reg patted his pockets for his cigarettes, only to remember yet again that he’d given up smoking.
Joel slipped his gloved hand into Reg’s, as if to remind him why he had.
“What’s Ramsay like?”said Joel.
“Profoundly eccentric.Scattered.An occasionally brilliant poet, when the spirit moves her.And...oh dash.”
“What?”said Joel.
“I forgot to bring something for the party.”
They were in a residential neighbourhood, and the only retail establishment nearby was a convenience store.Dirt-encrusted Christmas bulbs framed the door.The place was so cramped, Reg had to tuck his elbows in so he wouldn’t knock things off the shelves.On a high shelf at the back, he found a box of Christmas cake and brought it to the counter where a grungy-looking man was reading a magazine.
“It’s got dust on it,” said Joel.
“Doesn’t matter.This stuff keeps.”
As they left the shop, Joel examined the box.
“What are you doing?”said Reg.
“Looking for the expiry date.”
“Well, don’t.It’s British.It’sfine.”Reg tucked the box under his arm.
In contrast to Silas’s party, the atmosphere at Ramsay’s party was relaxed and friendly.The place was much warmer than Silas’s too, the music more eclectic, changing from room to room.In the downstairs bathroom shower stall, someone was strumming a guitar.
