Lover's Really Fall in Love to Stay - 1. Lover's Really Fall in Love to Stay

He circled me, stumbling only a little, suspicion writ across his every feature. Finally, he paused, looked me square in the eyes, and said, "Daddy?"

I laughed. Fortunately, we Barats tend to be gentle laughers. If I had roared, no doubt the kid would have run panicked behind his mother again. "No, Simon, I'm your Uncle Khayyam. I haven't seen you since you were born."

Clearly, I'd said too much, for by his expression his head was close to exploding. "Not-Daddy?"

"That'll do I suppose. C'mere, give me a hug."

Still wary, my nephew did as he was told. Briefly. And then as soon as he could squirm away he retreated to his mother, whose eyes showed the laughter she wasn't letting out. Kids. Gotta love them.

"You do look a lot like Satar, you know," she told me, taking Simon's hand, "I'd hardly be able to tell you apart, if I wasn't his wife and all."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh, well that will be fun tonight, I bet. Besides, he looks like me, not the other way around. I'm older. I was here first."

She raised an eyebrow right back. I hadn't had much conversation with Karina before now, and I was beginning to regret that. It wasn't often someone not related to me could go toe to toe with my banter. "But Satar looks pretty much like he did in high school, plus or, well, plus a few pounds. You're the one that changed."

I dismissed this with a wave. "Details," I said. She had a point, though I didn't know she'd known me well enough back then to see the changes. I was never one for exercise, and eating was one of my many ways of dealing with the crazy people I was forced to share blood with, not least of which my incest-minded two-year younger brother. That and my job (burgeoning career, I could now claim) playing with computers gave me a soft, pale look. But a late growth spurt and my school crowd's habit of walking everywhere had taken care of that. My family and the few old acquaintances I kept up with marveled every time they saw me.

But, it was a surprise that she knew. I said as much. To be honest, I hadn't really known much about her until my brother knocked her up at their senior prom, and then married him that fall. It was a strangely proud day for my family; we'd managed to prove we could be just as rural as the locals. While I'd lived in Virtue most of my life, and Satar had been born here, it wasn't until Simon was born that we were no longer considered new in town. That event made us "family."

"I don't see why you're surprised. You and your brother weren't exactly wallflowers in high school. Everyone knew about you two, and had stories to tell as well. Did you think the gossip stopped just because you moved onto the other side of the country? Honestly, it just made you that much more interesting."

"Ah, gossip: the bane, and meat, of my existence. I never manage to live up to the stories about me," I admitted. "I wonder how many people would be disappointed to know I was single all through college."

"Are you saying there's no one waiting back at home for you? I assumed that's why you didn't show up for Christmas."

"Nope, no one, just the goldfish. I needed to finish a project before heading here is all."

"How very interesting. Well, maybe you'll meet someone soon." And on that cryptic note, Karina gathered up her son. "Come on, lovely, let's get you ready for Grandma's house. She's going to watch you tonight, okay?" Simon nodded, and held onto her as she stood up. "Help yourself to the kitchen. You have to be a little hungry after all that travel."

I shrugged. "Not hungry so much as thirsty. Do you have any coffee?" I asked.

"In the fridge. Mugs are next to the coffee pot," she said. With that, she left towards the bedroom, Simon still peering at me with narrowed eyes other his mother's shoulder.

Yeah, there is a reason I avoid family. I just don't have the knack to get along with any of them. I sighed, wondering how I could make it through this vacation. I would go to this party, maybe hang out with Satar for a day or two, but make tracks for Florida as quickly as possible. 'Get in, get out, go home,' I promised myself.

The Stent family New Years party was a new tradition, just started a couple years ago when the new Executor took over the family properties. While they didn’t own half the county anymore, or call all locals kin, they were still a huge family that had just about every business and local politician under their thumb. The party was held up the mountain from Virtue, in what was called the family’s fief, Stent’s Cut-off. Yes, they’d been living in the area that long. The large house was filled with Stents of every age, but it was mostly young. Young couples, that is.

I hated couple parties; I’d never have agreed to go if I’d known what waited. Not only that, but seeing Satar act not as himself but as half a partnership was bizarre. He and Karina completed each others sentences, laugh at things only the two of them were aware of, and worst of all, commiserated with the other recent parents about the trials of young children. “I know it’s called the terrible twos, but Simon still an angel.” “Count your blessings then, but watch out for when he turns three.” “Oh, that’s not so bad. Just wait until he starts pestering you for a little brother.” And then they’d all laugh, with just enough of a Look that you could see they were thinking about not waiting for Simon to ask.

An hour until midnight, I stepped outside the party, putting the weight of oak between myself and the boisterous cheer within. I didn’t smoke often, just a shared puff at parties for the most part, but I’d planned ahead for this. Well, not this, but at a place even more rural than Virtue there was bound to be something that ticked me off. In just two drags, and a mental recitation of my new mantra,' Get in, get out, go home,' I could feel my stress clearing.

“That’ll age you, you know. If it doesn’t kill you,” spoke a guy I hadn’t noticed when I came out. I started, but if there was one thing a cigarette was made for it was helping to look composed against all odds.

“Talking from experienced?” I asked.

“Yep. You wouldn’t believe how old my mother is, and she’s only forty,” he said.

I smiled. “Funny, but five years ago, forty would have been old all by itself to me. Impossibly old, like I’d never get there.”

“I know,” he agreed. He came out from under the tree where he’d been sitting, and walked to me despite my smoke. “Hell, twenty-one seemed like a mirage to me once, but here I am.”

“Yeah. Here we both are.” I stuck my hand out. “Khayyam Barat, but everyone calls me Khay.”

He took it. I had to fight to only to touch but not to feel his hand in mine. His hand was cold; he'd obviously been out here a while, but I didn't let go as quick as politeness would allow. He didn't either. Instead he pulled a little, edging us closer, bringing his face into the light.

"I know," he told me. "I'm Jake. I've seen you around," he trailed off, and suddenly couldn't meet my eyes. "I was hoping to see you tonight, actually."

'Damn,' I thought, because I realized I knew him too. This wasn't just Jake, this was Jake Dire, the kid who'd come out , got kicked out of his mother's house, and then a day later she turned the entire running of Stent's Cut-off over to him. He was only a year older than me, but he basically had the county by the balls. There were all kinds of stories about him floating around, fueled by jealousy, curiosity, and admiration of his handsome face. I'm a story teller, so I can say he was too interesting a figure not to encourage gossip. I'm none too proud to admit I've told a few of his tales myself, and that I'd thought about his body late some nights.

And that led me to wonder what he'd heard about me, and from whom. We'd never actually talked before this night. If all he knew about me was the high school gossip, and something about the look on his face told me a couple stories had made their way to him, he was expecting something a lot more interesting than I was.

My panic induced silence got to him, and he finally let go of my hand. "Sorry, it's just, Satar told me you'd be coming. I guess I built it up in my head a little more than is healthy," he admitted with a wry crinkling around his eyes.

"Satar?" I asked. "He told you I'd be coming."

"He's told me quite a lot about you, actually. Karina is one of my favorite cousins, and the three of us have been meeting for a little while now. You're very important to your brother, you know."

I said, "I know." He frowned a bit at my tone, so I continued. "He hasn't mentioned any of that to me. They'd all but dragged me here, but somehow never mentioned that I was expected by anyone."

"Sorry about that." I gave him a double take. He blushed, I think. It was cold, so it was hard to tell. "I pressured him a bit to get you up here. I've heard so much about you that I wanted to meet you, talk to you." He looked at the ground again. "Well, really, I've wanted to meet you since Satar and Karina's wedding. I'd seen you before, but I don't think I ever really saw you until you offered them a toast. You were handsome, confident, easy in the spotlight. I envied that a little, and wanted to get to know you better. But it didn't seem the time then, and it wasn't until later that I remembered you weren't local anymore."

"Oh," I said, still unsure of what to say. This, this was new. Actually it wasn't new at all. I've been pursued before, but if I was being honest, never by someone who had fascinated me too. And I don't think that any of my past lovers at their drippiest would have admitted to fantasizing about me for years.

He ran fingers through fine, medium brown hair. "This going at all well. I'm coming on too strong, I know, but I feel like I already know you through your brother."

"No, its fine," I told him, because what else could I say? "I'm just surprised, like I said." I smiled, determined to at least let the boy save his pride. He was Satar's friend, so I could so at least that for him.

Jake made a joke, which I didn't really listen to. I laughed anyways, picturing the torture I would inflict on my brother for doing this to me. Oh yes, you will pay,' I thought at him, taking pains to not let my companion see it. I took a drag on my mostly burned out cigarette, and dreamed of my revenge. With snow on the ground, it could be very cold indeed. 'Get in, get out, go home.'

Close to midnight, the two of us finally had to come inside. I eventually relaxed, and found myself enjoying Jake's company. Standing out there in the freeze was loads more interesting than the party inside would have been, despite the eager to please expression Jake had worn. But as I said, we were forced inside, so that he could be a proper host and spread the good champagne around for the new years toast. He walked off into the kitchen, and not three seconds later Satar and Karina pounced on me.

"Good going Khay!" my brother said, slapping me on the back.

"For what?" I asked.

Karina rolled her eyes. "You two were out there most of the night. What did you two find so interesting to talk about?"

I shrugged. "This and that. All kinds of stuff. He never got away long enough to go to college, so we talked about that some. Oh, he also mentioned that the pair of you all but pimped me out."

They didn't look the least bit embarrassed. The assholes. "That's what it takes, with you," Satar said. "We've been meeting him for a while now, and I knew that if you met you two might find something to enjoy with each other. But I also know that if you aren't in complete control, you'll shut down and hit the road so fast you might not even stop to pack."

"Is that why you didn't even give me a choice in the matter? You could have warned me," I told him.

"You wouldn't have come."

I couldn't find anything wrong with that statement that would convince a jury, so I let it go. Karina spoke into the gap. "Come on, it couldn't have been all that bad. Y'all were out there, alone, all night. Something was keeping you out there besides gentility."

I leaned in closer so that Jake, who had reentered the room with couple cousins holding champagne bottle trailing after, would not hear. "Okay, so I like him. It's pretty clear I'm not too repulsive to him either. But there's a big thing in our way, and one that you should have kept in mind before you tried your little scheme. He lives here; I live in a completely different state."

The two grinned at each other, and then turned back to me. "That, my friend," Karina stated, "is the easiest thing in the world to overcome. Stop running. Come home."

I was about to tell her she was talking some awfully pretty things for someone that wasn't a close friend, but Jake came up to us. He had flutes for all of us, and looking around I could see we were the only ones being served by Jake himself. "Here," he said, "the best bottle we have. I wanted something special for tonight."

It was clear to all of us he wasn't talking about the wine. I barely kept form grimacing, but my brother and his wife all but chortled. Further words were lost when the radio was turned up, and the whole room began chanting "Ten! Nine! Eight!"

My brother leaned in, whispering into my ear, "Nothing scares you, except thinking you might let yourself go out of control. For once, be brave. This could be the best thing that has ever happened to you."

My retort was lost with the screamed "Happy New Years!" People drank deep, toasted everyone in sight, and one by own began kissing each other. My brother lost himself in his wife, and Jake looked at me, that eager grin back, but clearly too scared of me to make that move.

"Be brave," my brother had told me. I'll give him brave. I tipped back the flute, swallowed, and all but threw myself at Jake. We kissed like I've never done it before, wild, crazy, eventually parting for air with an audible smack.

Jake, panting, took a considering look at his glass. "A good year, apparently." To the whistles of the crowd, we kissed again, and I wondered if I was in such a rush to leave after all. 'I could hang a round for a while, and see what happens,' I decided.

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