The Cardmaker and the Caretaker - 10. Chapter 10 Housekeeping and dinner plans

Once Michael had left the breakfast table to watch his beloved cartoons in the living room, the adults made plans.

“I’m thinking about booking a flight to Copenhagen tomorrow. I’ll spend Thursday packing and sorting out things in Denmark, and hopefully I can return no later than Friday.”

Peter gave both of them an entreating look and Patrick knew what it meant. Fortunately, he also knew Grethe’s answer from their talk in the supermarket, and it was easy to second the request.

“Please stay here from now on. It’ll make things easier, and I’ll enjoy your company when I get home from the card shop. You can have the guest room, and I assume Michael can sleep there as well, while Peter is in Copenhagen?”

“Of course, and I’ll try to persuade him to stay down here over the weekend too.” The wink and smile she gave the men had both of them blushing.

“I better go over to the hotel and tell them I’m definitely leaving today. I did warn them this morning and as long as I moved out before eleven they won’t charge me an extra night.”

“I’ll come with you and help with the suitcases.” Peter started to get up, but she waved him off.

“No need, I’ll go over and pack the few things I used and settle the account. I’ll bring back my hand luggage and send you over for the suitcases, if I can’t find somebody to help me. Patrick, how much should I offer in return for wheeling them down here?”

Once they’d settled on an appropriate amount for the teenage son of the pub owner, she left with a promise of a swift return. The two men continued talking as they tidied up the kitchen.

“So if you get back on Friday, I guess we can start reorganizing rooms during the weekend?” Patrick did his best not to sound too eager.

“I’ll talk to Michael about the idea of him taking over your room. Maybe Moster can help him plan how he wants it. It would keep him occupied while I’m gone.”

He hesitated and Patrick waited patiently for him to work out the next part. “The other room you planned for us to sleep in – should we look at it and decide how we want it done up?”

Patrick knew he’d gone a bit pale and his lover had his arm around the shoulder of the dark-haired man before he could speak.

“It’s OK. There’s nothing bad about the room, except I’ve used it to store my parents’ personal belongings, and clearing it out is going to be difficult. But maybe I can just move the boxes to storage and go through them later.”

He knew he’d get depressed by the task which was why he kept postponing. However, getting to share a bed with his boyfriend might be the incentive needed.

“Do you want me to help you? I don’t mean with sorting your parents’ things, but just be with you and carry boxes and make tea?”

“Yes please. Having you there for moral support would help. You better bring tissues and shoulder pads, though.” He wanted to laugh at the surprise on his partner’s face.

“What, did you think I was too proud to admit how bad I’m going to feel about this job? I’ll always be honest with you, and I expect you to tell the truth too. And it’s only fair to warn you about the chances of me freaking out once I open the door to my dad’s workroom, for the first time in more than three years.”

“Why don’t we wait then? I don’t need to see the room right now, and we can take our time with making it into our bedroom. I’m sure Michael will be happy to have his dads sleep in his room for a bit longer. And I think he’ll be fine with staying with Moster Grethe some nights, as long as he can wake us up in the morning and cuddle between us. He often joined me on Sunday mornings back in Copenhagen, and we’d have breakfast in bed and chat about his week and make plans for the day.”

Patrick kissed him, relieved to be able to push the matter aside for a bit longer. He was grateful for the considerate manner his partner was dealing with the anxiety and sadness which had probably been obvious. As they relaxed with their arms around each other, he once more sent of a prayer of thanks to his patron saint. ‘Thank you St. Valentine for sending me a man who loves and cares and understands. I promise to treasure him forever.’

Okay, time for another change of subject before he got too sentimental, and he knew exactly what might cheer him up. “If we’re not rearranging rooms this weekend, how would you feel about inviting some people in or going out for a meal with them?”

Peter was clearly a bit taken aback at the sudden shift in conversation, but rallied quickly. “I suppose it would be OK. Who did you have in mind?”

“You remember the couple whose wedding picture I showed you? John and Anthony?”

At Peter’s nod he rushed on. “Well, they came into the shop yesterday to buy a card. And – ehm – they guessed I’d fallen in love with you.”

“How did they find out? Did they know you’re gay?”

“No, I’ve never told anyone except my parents. John told me they’d wondered about me but had no clue. But they saw the pictures of you and Michael near my work area in the shop. They thought you’re handsome and he’s cute, and I had to agree.”

He wasn’t surprised when this declaration earned him several kisses and a nibble on his neck.

“Also, John said I was glowing.”

“Glowing?”

“Umm, yes, sort of shining with love, you know.”

“They saw pictures of me and when they asked you about me, you shone with love?”

“Yes, and John hugged me, because he was so pleased for me. They both congratulated me.”

“John’s the excitable redhead?”

“Yes.”

“And Anthony is the tall dark silent guy.”

“Exactly.”

“A bit cliché isn’t it?”

“I know, but they’re great guys and perfect for each other. And I realize it sounds crazy, but I have the feeling they could become great friends. I asked them if they wanted to meet you. Oh, and Michael of course. Ehm, this was after I’d gone on about you for a while and how happy you make me. They were eager to get together, and I promised to get back to them and suggest a time and place for dinner.”

“I’d be delighted to meet them. Do you want to invite them here? I’m sure Moster Grethe would love to make their acquaintance too. And just so you know,” he made a teasing break and leaned in to nibble Patrick’s ear, “I can see your love for me shining in your eyes, and it makes me very happy…” a playful bite on the earlobe, “…and very hard.”

Patrick had to adjust his dick which swelled in response to the heated whisper. A sudden vision in his mind had him biting his lip to hold back a moan. Peter above him holding his naked torso raised on two strong arms, looking down at him with blue eyes full of love and desire. He knew what he’d be seeing if he tore away his gaze and let it drop towards their joined bodies. His own legs spread wide to accommodate Peter’s hips as his lover thrust into him, again and again.

The tingling in his private parts warned him to shut down the vision immediately or else suffer another mortifying incidence of creaming his pants. He gasped and moved his head away from the playful mouth nibbling suggestively on his neck. At the same time he became aware of a warm hand cupping the bulge in his pants under the table. Fuck, no wonder he was close to having an orgasm.

“Peter, stop that or I’m going to…”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be pushy. But the way you reacted when I put my hand on yours, was irresistibly hot.”

Patrick gave him a ‘Yeah, right’ look. Peter may have started out with his hand on top of Patrick’s, but his palm had been folded around something quite different when the cardmaker came out of his sexy fantasy. A delighted impish giggle and ditto angelic titter in his head made him want to roll his eyes. Jeez, when would those two leave him alone?

“And what if Michael had come into the kitchen?”

“He wouldn’t have seen anything except me kissing your neck.”

“He might have wanted to sit in your lap, or mine, and that could have caused a few awkward questions. You would have to answer them, since I don’t speak Danish.”

“Nah, he’s busy with his cartoons.”

“Well, if you’d gone on much longer, I might have dragged you upstairs and done unspeakable things to your body, before I jerked off all over you,” Patrick whispered. Now he was the one nibbling on a tasty neck and palming a hard bulge. A quick flash of Peter squirming on the bed with his lover’s fingers firmly lodged in his ass made him squeeze the excited part with appreciation.

“Fuck,” Peter hissed, even as he spread his legs slightly to grant his lover better access.

“Soon, but not right now. After all, you don’t want Moster Grethe to walk in on something even worse than you and Kim, do you?” He got up and started to tidy the table.

“Damn, that cooled me off nicely, you evil man.” He joined him in clearing up after brunch, and Patrick brought up the topic they’d almost forgotten about.

“I take it you’re happy to get together with John and Anthony?”

“You like them and think we’ll be friends with them, don’t you? I trust your judgment.”

“Yes I do, though I’ve never thought about them like that before. Well, I’d only met them twice and just as customers in the shop. Yesterday was the first time we talked as friends and about me.”

He knew the reason for the change was meeting the love of his life. It had unlocked his emotions and made him capable of connecting with other people in a personal way. Strange how he hadn’t seen it before, but he’d only let himself sense the truth about how other people felt when it didn’t apply to him. No, that wasn’t quite true; he’d also sensed emotions if they caused rejection, either of him – like the way Fiona’s mother looked at him – or more commonly when he managed to avoid people trying to cheat him, seduce him or use him in other ways.

Every time someone’s interest had felt genuine, he’d walled himself away. Fiona’s wish to be there for him, Mr. Archibald’s vaguely paternal worry, the tentative enquiries from several of his parents’ best friends, even the tight-lipped old lawyer trying to explain the ramification of his inheritance. All of them had been trying to connect with him, to help him deal with his sorrow and loneliness in their own way.

Patrick almost felt ashamed at his disregard for the people who apparently cared about him. He knew he’d subconsciously been trying to shield himself from hurt, but it was a stupid – and lonely – way to live. Meeting the two Danes had been the catalyst, being in their company had gradually weakened his walls, and Peter asking him to be his Valentine had breached his defences. Another silent prayer of thanks rose in his mind.

They were almost done with the washing up by the time he had finished his ruminations. Peter had been silent too, seemingly content with the quiet companionship. Patrick returned to the matter of John and Anthony a final time and suggested meeting for dinner at a local restaurant near his shop on Saturday, with the option of coming back to his – no their – house for coffee. When his partner agreed, he continued with other practical matters.

“I’m going to buy a dishwasher now we’re four people in the house. Any opinion on where should I install it?”

“Close to the sink is probably best, since you need access to water and a drain. But you might want to ask Moster for her opinion.”

“Is she being honest when she says she enjoys cooking and wants to take over preparing meals?”

“Absolutely. As far back as I can recall, dinners at Moster’s always included wonderful food. Loving to cook was something she shared with my uncle. They took a couple of advanced cooking classes together. Michael likes to help her bake and she often finds small jobs for him when she cooks, so it works even when she’ll be minding him.” He hesitated and Patrick motioned for him to go on.

“On the other hand, I know she hates cleaning and laundry, so we’ll have to share those chores or get someone to come in regularly. I don’t want to impose on you or dictate matters in your home, but it can’t be helped. If we’re to have Michael at home between treatments, the house has to be kept perfectly clean and stay uncluttered. Sort of the way you have it now.”

His smile was a little wobbly, but Patrick reassured him with a laugh. “It’s a miracle! I used to think my obsession with keeping the house neat and clean would be an obstacle to a relationship. Either my boyfriend would drive me mad by being untidy, or I’d scare him off by freaking over dirt in the corners. And now you’re telling me it’s something you appreciate and Michael needs. How did I get so lucky? And by the way, it’s our home.”

The handsome Dane’s reaction was the same wondrous delighted laugh which happened back when Patrick persuaded him to give in to Michael’s wish and stay the weekend. But this time the arm around his shoulders was accompanied by a quick kiss.

“I love the way you can find the silver lining in any cloud and turn my needs into a favour I’m doing you, or something you want even more than me. You’re the most wonderful man I’ve ever met, and I’m proud and amazed we’ve become partners.”

“Back at you, handsome.” He decided to change the subject, before they got trapped in more making out.

“I assume Michael won’t be doing anything school related for the next months?”

“No, he’ll be too tired, and the danger of infection means he’ll be limited in where he can go and how many people he can be around.”

“What about a tutor to teach him English? We could start looking for someone who’s willing to schedule lessons whenever Michael feels OK. Oh, and I want to learn at least some Danish.”

“Hmm good idea, both of them. I’ll also look into DVDs and computer programs for teaching kids. But let’s get settled first, and just hearing us talk in English may prompt Michael to start using the words he knows already.”

As if the repeated use of his name had conjured him from the other room, the boy was suddenly next to them. “Jeg keder mig. Hvor er Moster Grethe?”[1]

Peter took the hand of his son, with a quick ‘he’s bored’ explanation, and walked back to the living room. Patrick finished the last bits and followed. The TV was off and Michael was on his dad’s lap, listening to an earnest explanation. By the expression and replies of the small blond boy the conversation made him happy.

He went over and sat next to them on the sofa and found himself hugged by two thin arms as Michael threw himself onto his papa, jabbering excitedly. Patrick looked over at the boy’s dad, almost sure he knew the reason why, and Peter confirmed his guess.

“Michael would love to take over your room. He wants to keep the bed and he likes the colour of the walls but wants lots of posters. Not surprisingly, he’s also keen on the entertainment unit idea.”

Just then the front door opened, and he got up to help his aunt with her suitcases. Michael managed to convey his wish to join the rest of the family in the guest room, and Patrick was pleased to carry him to the room. The trust of this innocent boy gave as much healing to his lonely heart as the love of Peter and the support of Moster Grethe did.

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Secure in the knowledge of a new family making his home a joyful place, the cardmaker set out for another day at his shop and spent every unoccupied moment happily making plans for the future. Around lunch time there was an influx of customers and he noticed it was easier than usual to work out what they wanted and get inspired ideas on how to do their cards. One of his recurring customers, an elderly lady ordering birthday cards for her two grandchildren, even commented on Patrick looking “very spry today, my dear.”

To his delight, Peter turned up at the shop late in the afternoon and stayed until he was ready to close at seven. Grethe had a nice home-cooked meal ready for them, and when Michael had gone to bed, Peter explained about the meeting with the hospital and their intention to schedule the boy for surgery at the earliest possible moment, starting with a day of testing and check-ups the following Monday. Patrick managed to absent himself physically or mentally whenever they discussed medical details. He simply couldn’t bear to hear about the difficult times which awaited their sweet little boy, and he couldn’t understand most of it anyway.

Peter didn’t mind his inattention when he explained. But he appreciated being held and comforted, as the two men sat together on the sofa, after Moster Grethe had gone to bed. Michael had insisted on sleeping with his dad, since he would be gone the next two nights. None of the adults had tried to dissuade the boy, who was otherwise remarkably calm about the prospect of his father being absent and about the upcoming week of tests.

Patrick dug out a bottle of his favourite Glenmorangie, and his companion gratefully accepted a glass.

“I’m glad to see we have a similar taste in whisky. I prefer the mellow single malts.”

“Me too, but I suspect it’s also a matter of age. My dad couldn’t get them smoky enough, he preferred Lagavulin. He would drink it with Mr Archibald next door.”

“I’ve had that once, but it’s too strong tasting for me. Oban is about the smokiest I can manage.”

“Did Moster Grethe tell you about my plans? Of buying Mr. Archibald’s house, I mean.”

“No, she didn’t.” He had been relaxing against Patrick’s shoulder, the brown-haired cardmaker’s arm around his blond Dane, but now he sat up and looked inquiringly at him.

“Well, this house hasn’t got enough rooms. I need a workroom, and I assume you’d like an office, so you can work from home, too. I talked to Moster Grethe, and she would like to be able to have her children stay overnight. Also, if your mum and sister visit, it would be convenient.”

“I can see your point.”

“It won’t happen soon. I told Mr. Archibald he could take his time sorting his stuff and moving. He’s lived in the house from before I was born, and even though I haven’t been over there for years, I remember it as quite cluttered from childhood visits with my parents.”

“So you don’t know if it needs renovating?”

“No, but I assume a new kitchen and bathroom will be essential. Your aunt has already been over for tea, and since Mr. Archibald knows she’ll be living in the house I assume he’ll show her around. We can ask her to make a list of the obvious things like painting. I’ll find someone to evaluate the general condition and the market value. I think the house is in fairly good shape, it’s only in the past few years he has been having hip problems. His children have tried to help, but they are busy.”

“Sounds like everyone will benefit from your brilliant plan, my love.”

“I hope so. Now, how about getting some sleep, we have another busy day tomorrow.”

Peter nodded his agreement and they went upstairs.