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    Lee Marchais
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Unexpected Gift - 2. Chapter 2: Bahamas

Author has permission from the artist isinuyasha to use the image drawn for this chapter.

The lights in the piano lounge bar cast a warm glow around the room. Music poured from the stage like waves, and Josh scanned the room, finding the reason he was there sitting behind the piano, swaying as he played something Christmassy with the look of a man completely at home. Wow. Josh watched from a distance, appreciating the way Christopher moved and seemed to feel the music as though it were alive. It was stunning. A lock of hair had tumbled out of place and swung against Christopher’s forehead as he moved. Josh smiled, heading closer to the piano without a thought. Christopher didn’t notice him, seemingly completely absorbed in his music. Josh glanced around the bar; everyone watched Christopher in their own reverie, lips turned up at the corners of their mouths, couples holding hands. Josh didn’t want to imagine how the bar had looked before Christopher had started playing.

Smiling, Josh stepped onto the platform where Christopher played. “Having fun?”

Even though he was in the middle of a song, Christopher closed the piece down with a chord sequence that he didn’t seem to need to think about and smiled back. “I never could resist a vacant keyboard. This is a surprisingly good instrument.”

“So they just let you take over the music?”

Christopher’s eyes moved around the room slowly, apparently vaguely surprised to find that he had an audience. “Well, there was nobody here, and they didn’t complain…”

Josh laughed. “Ready for that drink?”

“I could do that.” Christopher spun on the bench easily and stood up; Josh couldn’t take his eyes off the man.

Josh looked around the lounge and wondered if it looked this like year-round or just at Christmas. “This place looks like a ga—club I went to once, with all the glitter.”

“I wouldn’t know about that, but it does look a bit like the nineteen eighties exploded in here, doesn’t it?”

“Mm. Would you like to sit at the bar or over there?” He gestured toward the lounge chairs.

“As you prefer.”

“Chairs look pretty comfortable.” Josh headed toward them and a waitress came to take their drink orders. They settled in, Christopher with one leg crossed over the other, body facing Josh.

“So Elaine was right all along,” he said with a half-smile.

“Who is Elaine and how was she right?”

“Elaine is the parish secretary, and when I complained that I’d end up sitting in a corner on my own throughout the trip, she told me that someone would take pity on the obvious waif inside half an hour.”

Josh frowned, thinking. Christopher had never been a “waif” to him. “I’m hardly taking pity on you. Seems like we’re in the same boat, as it were.”

Christopher laughed wryly. “Figure of speech.”

“I actually see the women flocking to you. Good-looking Englishman… accent, style, class…”

Christopher snorted. “…spending half my life in a succession of village churches in the middle of nowhere: oh, yes; they absolutely do. They’re usually in their eighties and determined to feed me.”

Josh chuckled. “Why churches?”

“I’m an organist: churches are our natural habitat.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s that like? Other than the octogenarians trying to feed you all the time?”

There was a pause and furrow in Christopher’s brow. “Well, I quite like it but I daresay it wouldn’t suit everyone. The money is negligible, the surroundings are often cold and can have some peculiar smells, the instruments can be very temperamental, setting a routine is tricky, and the whole business can be remarkably political.” He stopped. “That sounds dreadful.” He sounded mildly embarrassed by the admission.

“Just a bit,” Josh said, nodding to the waitress who brought their drinks. “That’s how it was at my old company, just not instruments—people. I run my parents’ bookshop now.”

“Do you enjoy that?”

Josh took a drink. “Yeah. Much shorter hours and less stress.”

“I can’t imagine being responsible for running a whole business; I have enough trouble running myself.”

“The business part is easy. I grew up helping out in the shop, so when I went to business school, it all just sort of flowed naturally. And the literature side came from loving to read, so it was only natural I take over from my parents. They’re getting older, now. I didn’t want them to have to worry about it.”

Christopher nodded. “There’s a certain sort of specialness about a genuine family business.”

Josh smiled and took another swig of his beer. “I like it. Miss the money of big business, but I’d rather be in the bookshop any day.”

“I can understand that: I live on my teaching salary, not my earnings from playing, but I know which I’d rather do, and it doesn’t involve a classroom.”

“You teach, too? Music?”

Christopher raised his glass. “And maths if they’re desperate for cover, since I did joint honors.”

“What’s that like, teaching?”

Warm laughter surrounded them. “Far more challenging, especially if George Richardson’s in the class!”

“One of those students?”

“It’s not that he means to be disruptive; he just… sort of attracts trouble.”

Josh laughed. “Never a dull day, I reckon.”

“Absolutely. If it’s not a frog in his pocket, it’s a spontaneously-breaking chair leg.”

Josh shook in silent mirth. “So what do you do when you aren’t teaching or being an organist?”

“Sleep, mostly. There isn’t really a lot of time left over.”

“Is that the reason for the vacation?”

Christopher stretched his long arm and rubbed the back of his neck. “Probably, yes. I have to admit that this wasn’t my idea: I’ve been the victim of a conspiracy because, apparently, I’ve been looking a little pasty.”

“You were forced to go on a vacation?”

“It wasn’t exactly at gunpoint, but I got home from work to find a taxi waiting with a suitcase already on board, and picket-line of concerned friends and neighbors across my front door. It would have been a little on the ungracious side to tell them to shove it.”

“Are you liking it so far? The cruise?”

The screen of Chris’ phone lit up and a name stood out. It blinked and vibrated, but Chris ignored it.

“Early indications are promising, but it’s too soon to say with any certainty.”

His gentle teasing made Josh pause. Then Josh gave him a look. “Well, at least you’re not the waif in the corner. I’m happy to keep you company when you’d like it.”

“That’s uncommonly generous of you.”

“It’s not like I’m not getting anything out of it. I get the company, too.”

“Mm. I have to say, I didn’t expect it to be quite so couple-and-family oriented. There really isn’t a lot laid on by way of activities for the unattached.”

“I noticed that, too. But if you want a partner, I’m down. As long as you’re not afraid people will think we’re gay,” Josh said, quirking his head to the side.

Christopher’s gentle expression disappeared. “I happen to be gay.”

Josh blinked a few times and cocked his head. “Me, too. I just thought I’d make sure it wasn’t an issue. It would be for some people.”

Christopher raised a haughty eyebrow. “Not people with whom I’d care to associate.” Then he shifted and looked like he was going to sigh. “No, I do realize that. I suspect that my elderly ladies and school colleagues are as tolerant as they are because I don’t flaunt it.” Christopher tilted his head and regarded Josh. “I don’t hide it, however.”

Josh nodded. “I’m sorry to hear that. I know the feeling, though. My parents aren’t exactly marching in Pride or members or PFLAG. My dad still thinks I’m going to meet some nice young woman. Hard to think about meeting a nice young woman when there’s a man like you around.” He smiled.

“Mine gave up on me years ago,” Christopher said, either having not heard Josh’s compliment or not inclined to flirt. “My brother was happy enough to oblige him and my mother with a brood of grandchildren, fortunately. Between his children and my dogs, the subject almost never has an opportunity to come up.”

“Dogs? What kind? I have a boxer at home.”

Something lit up in Christopher’s eyes at the question. “One Labrador, two Greyhounds, a Papillon, a Border Collie, a couple of mongrels, and half a Mastiff. The Labrador is the only one I consciously set out to acquire.”

“That’s a lot of dogs. How do you only have half of one...?”

Christopher smiled, his amusement clear. “His official owner hasn’t quite passed him on yet.” He rolled his eyes. “I seem to be the local acquirer of second-hand problem dogs; the problem with this one is that he weighs nearly as much as she does and broke her arm in two places by shouldering her out of the way to lunge at an aggressive dustbin.”

Josh nearly choked on the beer he’d just had a swig of, but swallowed it and burst out laughing. “That’s something I’ve never heard before. Wow, that’s a lot of dogs.”

Christopher smiled.

“Where are they now?”

“At home; the neighbors’ eldest has moved into my house for the duration to see to them. I think they’re hoping that the experience will inspire him to move out and get a place of his own.”

“That’s generous. Duke and the cat are with my parents.”

“The boxer and the cat get on, do they?”

“They’re best friends. The cat thinks she’s in charge of everything and Duke just does his own thing. They’ll curl up in my window displays on sunny days.”

“That sounds very domestic. Mine all like to pile up on the hearth-rug, particularly if the fire is going.”

Josh smiled and watched the bob of Christopher’s throat as he swallowed a good measure of his martini. “I don’t have a fireplace. I live in the apartment above the bookshop.”

“I’d say that it must be nice not to have stairs to contend with, but if it’s above the shop…”

“It’s not too bad.” Josh finished his beer and checked his watch. “Do you want to continue talking after dinner? It looks like it’s about that time.”

“I’d like that.”

Josh smiled like the world had just been given to him. “Cool.” Perhaps it had.

Photo of Josh and Chris

***

 

After dinner, they went back to the piano lounge and its comfy armchairs. Josh watched Christopher, off and on, like he had during dinner. They hadn’t been seated together, or even close enough to hear each other’s conversations, but Christopher had seemed perfectly at ease in his new company. His attention hadn’t wandered from his immediate companions so much as Josh’s had, but he had caught his eye a couple of times between courses; Josh was almost entirely confident that he hadn’t imagined the warmer smile on Christopher’s face in those moments.

For most the evening, they drank, talked and laughed. When they music had stopped, Josh realized they both weren’t listening to the music any more. Christopher’s eyes were closed and he’d slumped in the chair. He looked peaceful and comfortable, even if his head lolled at an angle that would leave his neck aching for hours. Josh didn’t want to keep him from restful sleep. He reached out and touched Christopher’s shoulder, tapping a few times to get his attention. “Christopher...” His name slurred on Josh’s tongue, just enough to make him aware of how much he’d had to drink since they embarked and left the harbor.

Christopher blinked awake, eyes widening and his lips parted a little. “Oh, God, how embarrassing. Sorry.” He stifled a yawn. Has to be exhausted. Josh smiled and clenched his jaw to avoid mirroring the yawn. If Christopher had only landed in Florida that day, jet lag would be catching up with him. God, he’s cute. Out of Josh’s league, for more than one reason. No, stop right there, buddy.

“It’s all right. Come on. It’s late. You need to sleep.”

They didn’t speak on the way back to their cabins. It took two wrong hallways and a nightclub to realize he was completely lit and had no idea where he was, but Christopher seemed to figure out where he was going eventually. Josh followed him, after the wrong turns and enjoyed the swaying walk back to his stateroom with a silent Christopher. It was a content rather than awkward silence, which was nice. When they arrived at their rooms, Josh bade Christopher goodnight. It took him a moment to close the door, just watching the door that Christopher had disappeared behind. When he swayed and felt his stomach tip, he finally closed the bedroom door.

Josh smiled as he undressed and hung his tux in the closet; it had been a good night. He was sure he had messages from his family, but he could talk to them later. He just wanted to sink into the large bed waiting for him and sleep.

 

***

 

Four am looked at Josh from the side of his bed. Nothing he could do could get Christopher out of his head. He’d managed a few naps, but every time he closed his eyes, he saw Christopher and his open top button, the slice of neck beneath the collar, the boneless sprawl in his chair as he napped, agile fingers dancing over a keyboard. He didn’t like flings, and relationships were trouble, but he could think of about two dozen things he wanted to do to this man he’d only just met.

He rolled over and tried to go back to sleep, shoving aside any more thoughts of the possibilities of three weeks.

 

***

 

Sunlight blasted through the cabin window like a spotlight. Josh wasn’t sure if he wanted to get up yet or if he wanted to stay in bed and try to get some of the sleep he’d lost during the night. Eyes opened or closed, he thought about Christopher: face, lips, smile, laugh, body. His dreams had been a muddy fantasy mixed with reality. Every hour on the hour, he’d woken, bed empty, the sound of the ship around him, and thoughts darting across the hall. He closed his eyes and kept the pillow over his face.

The next time he woke up, the alarm clock read nine o’clock. Those few hours of uninterrupted sleep had done wonders, and now he was ready to get up and start his day.

He started with a shower. His mother had thought it would be amusing to give him some Hawaiian shirts and shorts to wear on the cruise; he found the least offensive combination and put it on, along with a pair of flip-flops. Satisfied that he didn’t look too bad, he headed out to find some food.

Couples, groups and occasional singles passed by, smiles on their faces. Josh nodded and greeted them as he sauntered through the halls and main areas.

Josh caught a glimpse of Christopher as he stepped into the dining room and approached him with a smile. “Morning.”

Christopher smiled back. “Good morning.”

“How’d you sleep?”

“Very well, thank you. You?”

“Not too badly,” he lied, not wanting to say how much of his night he’d spent thinking about Christopher in an alcohol-induced haze. “Starving, though.”

Christopher chuckled. “There’s plenty on the menu.”

“Mm. That sounds like it could mean a lot of things, but without food, my brain just doesn’t work the same way.” Josh grinned, until he realized that Christopher had no idea what he’d meant and he would have to explain. Josh shifted and chuckled, his face hot. “Sorry. You’re attractive.”

Christopher colored. “Ah... it was actually just a comment on the breakfast options. In terms of food.”

“Christopher, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“Please, call me Chris.”

Exhaling helped ease the embarrassment rolling through him. “I usually go by Josh.” He smiled, thankful for the change of subject on Chris’s part.

Chris rubbed the back of his head wryly.

So, he’d made a comment that was a bit forward with someone he’d only just met. That was okay, he supposed, if he wanted to make the rest of the cruise a nightmare. He berated himself for letting his mouth open before thinking. Worse yet, he’d interrupted Chris’s peaceful breakfast of toast and poached eggs... which seemed rather unfulfilling. “Well, since I’m already intruding, can I join you?”

“Please do.” It seemed genuine.

Josh sat and eyed the menu. One of everything, please, popped into his mind, but he knew he should keep it simple. A server took his order, which seemed like a feast compared to Chris’s meager portion. “Not hungry?”

Chris looked at his plate. “About as much so as ever.”

“You don’t eat much?” Josh asked. Then he wondered if that was something about being English or just about Chris.

“Not generally, no.”

“How the hell do you function?” came out and Josh clamped his mouth shut. He’d done so well last night, and they’d been getting along; he was not this much of an idiot most of the time.

Fortunately for him, Chris was amused rather than offended. “I’ve never had a problem. I just don’t take a lot of fuel.”

“Hrm.” He dug in when his food arrived, devouring pancakes, bacon, eggs, toast—the actual plate if he wasn’t careful. Between bites, he asked, “What are your plans today?”

“Other than a singing lesson and a quick piano brush-up, nothing.”

“Wait, you’re taking a working vacation?”

Chris smiled. “It wasn’t the intention, but I had a message from Melissa—the singer from the piano lounge last night—when I left the cabin this morning. I’d taken the liberty of suggesting a couple of exercises for her top register on the way back from the bar while you were at the gents’ last night.”

“You must be very good, then.”

Chris’s eyebrows arched. “I am.” There was no arrogance to it; it was a plain statement of fact.

Entertained, and liking how easy it was to talk to Chris, Josh suggested, “Maybe you could teach me to sing.”

“Oh, probably. If I can get a recognizable tune out of George Richardson, I can get one out of anyone.”

Josh laughed. “Maybe later. I promise I’m a good student, but I might not be able to carry a tune in a bucket.”

“Anyone can, if they’re taught right.” Chris nodded at a few people across the room; one of them was the singer. “Her real problem is transitions.”

Josh nodded. “I’ll take your word for it. After some of this food settles, I think I’ll go for a swim.” He ate slower, now that the edge of hunger wasn’t as strong. It was early and he wanted to get some sun, move around and work out some of the tension that had been riding him for months. He finished eating and looked at Chris. “Have fun with the lesson. I’ll see you later.” He smiled. “Buy you a drink, this time.”

Chris smiled back. “That would be nice.”

“Excellent. Say around two?”

“Piano lounge again?”

“Sure. Whatever you like.”

Chris inclined his head. “Two, or thereabouts, in the piano bar, then. Enjoy your swim.”

“Thanks.” Josh signed his name and room number to the bill and went to change.

Any concrit or feedback is welcome. :) Thank you for reading! Next chapter coming next week.
 
Lee Marchais and Jules R. Walker
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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I tried opening an online bookstore, but my day job (much less fun than the books) got busy enough that I was ultimately forced to close it. I'll try again when I retire, but for the time being, I'll indulge in Josh envy. 😊

 

Christopher may usually play church music, but he obviously knows enough popular pieces to draw an audience. He also seems like a patient teacher.

 

And another date looming at the piano bar! 😍

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