Page 6 of Pages of My Heart
Thomas O’Reilly is Charlie’s Pandora’s box, and every part of his being—his body, this soul, and his lonely, yearning heart—is urging him to open it.
His father’s constant name calling throughout his youth—sissy, queer boy, pansy—has left more lasting damage than all the bruises and broken bones combined. Charlie hates who he is, but on Saturday night, the soulful green eyes of the beautiful redhead made him feel for the first time like maybe he was worthsomething.
He’s not stupid. He knows he can’thaveThomas. Knows he can’t experience love with another man. But just for today, he wants to push that knowledge aside. Dropping his cigarette, he extinguishes it with a twist of his foot and considers how long he should wait before giving up this crazy notion and heading home.
“Charlie?”
His head snaps up at the sound of Thomas’s voice, eyes locking with those of the boy who after one night has him questioning everything his father has ever told him.
Thomas is tall and broad, with high cheekbones and smooth alabaster skin. He still looks boyish, but it is plain to see what sort of man he will mature into. Many people don’t like redheads, but Charlie is captivated by Thomas’s bright crop of hair, and finds himself daydreaming about what his long red lashesand the sprinkling of freckles across his nose might look like under the bright summer sun.
“What are you doing here?” Thomas asks, walking toward him with a wide smile that immediately lights up their dull surroundings.
Charlie holds out his hand and Thomas takes it. They shake but mostly just hold on to each other, Thomas’s touch igniting images in Charlie’s mind of their too brief time together at the docks, images that make Charlie’s world seem to suddenly turn from black and white to brilliant Technicolor.
“Was passing by and thought I’d stop for a smoke on the chance you might be here.” Charlie reluctantly pulls his hand away and steps back to put a more respectable distance between them. What he imagines is placing his hand behind Thomas’s neck and pulling him down into a heated kiss.
“Well, you chanced right.” Thomas leans forward a little and drops his voice to a whisper. “And I’m so glad you did. I’ve been thinking about you.”
Charlie feels a blush creeping up his neck, and he drops his chin down, keen to hide it. “You have, huh? Me, too.” He risks a glance at Thomas’s face and is rewarded with another stunning smile, nearly blinding in its intensity.
“Do you have some place you need to be? We could go for a soda or a milkshake or something?”
Charlie can’t stop the grin spreading across his own face. “Yeah, I’d enjoy a cold drink. Did a lot of heavy lifting at work today.”
Thomas pats him on the shoulder. “Let’s go then. There’s a diner not too far from here.”
Once they’re seated at a corner table a short while later with two glasses of soda and a little privacy, Charlie relaxes. There isnothing untoward happening—just two friends having a drink after work like everyone else. And the noise from the open kitchen and the other patrons is loud enough that no one will hear their conversation.
“This is such a pleasant surprise. I didn’t expect to see you today.” Thomas takes a little sip from his cherry cola and stares at him over the rim of his glass. “Will you still go to the club on Saturday?”
Charlie sighs, knowing the odds are stacked against it. “If I can sneak away, sure,” he says finally. “But it’ll be hard two weeks in a row. Last Saturday I told Ruthie I had to help my brother, but I can’t use that excuse again.” Charlie watches the smile fall from Thomas’s face and feels like a cad.
“Is Ruthie your girl?”
“Fiancée.” Charlie coughs and glances away, unable to meet Thomas’s gaze. “Gettin’ married soon.”
There’s no point in lying. Ruthie is a nice girl, and he won’t do any better. And it’s not like there’s any alternative—he will have to marry someday, so it may as well be a girl whose company he enjoys.
When Thomas’s leg brushes against his under the table, Charlie jerks away on instinct, but then slowly he inches his foot back until they are touching. He scans the diner surreptitiously, but no one is paying them any mind.
“Charlie.” Thomas speaks loudly, trying to recapture his attention. “You can’t do that.” He lowers his voice to a harsh whisper, expression imploring. “You can’t marry awoman.”
Closing his eyes for a moment, he pushes against Thomas’s leg, relishing the contact. When he opens them again, he is still faced with Thomas’s objection.
“I have to do it, Thomas, and someday soon, you will too. There’s no other way. Men like us . . .” Charlie swallows,struggling to push on. He tries again. “Men like us need to learn how to fit in. Make the most of the situation.”
“What if I don’t want to fit in? I thought I could get this out of my system, but not now.” Thomas slides his hand across the table until their pinky fingers lightly brush. “Not now that I’ve met you.”
Charlie pulls away and sits back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. His finger burns from Thomas’s graze.
“Red, you’ve got to fit in. You’ve got to find a girl and start a family. If you don’t, if you indulge this”—his eyes flick toward a passing waitress and he waits until she is out of earshot—“this sickness, you’ll end up in prison, orworse. You could end up fuckin’ dead. It’s fine to go to the club sometimes and forget everything for a night. But even that’s dangerous. That place has been raided before—you know that, right?”
Thomas sets his jaw and doesn’t answer, and Charlie shuffles in his seat, aware he’s frustrated. Angry even. But he isn’t sure why or exactly at what. Thomas’s naivety? The devil inside him? The whole godforsaken world? Everything about Thomas feels undeniably right, and yet everything around Charlie says it’s wrong. Thathe’swrong. That what he feels for Thomas is wrong.
Charlie stands abruptly, his chair scraping loudly on the linoleum floor. Thomas is on his feet almost immediately, eyes widening with concern.
“I’ve gotta get outta here,” Charlie says, throwing a few coins down next to their largely untouched drinks. “I need some fresh air.”
