Cards on the Table - lanyon Josh (книги бесплатно без регистрации полные .TXT) 📗
Travis came back in the kitchen door with the basket of herbs. «Peter, you want anything else?» Peter shook his head. «I'm gonna go…» He pointed to the living room.
When he left, Peter stood and started rinsing the green onions. He put them on a little cutting board and started chopping. «Okay, I'm ready. Tell me.»
Susan raised her eyebrows, but beyond a faint smirk didn't mention his peculiar need to cut veggies in times of stress. «Jacob didn't have a father. I mean, he wasn't raised with a father. But his lover said that Jacob's father came from Alaska. That his mom had been up here for school in Fairbanks and met his dad, and they fell in love, and Jacob was born in Alaska. The cop thought that Jacob's dad was in the military, stationed at one of the bases up there. But then something happened, and his mom took him and went back to California. She was already pregnant with Miriam. But anyway, Jacob's lover said that he used to talk about coming to Alaska, trying to find his father's family. Did he say anything to you, Peter? About any of this?»
Peter shook his head. «Sebastian has been saying that Jacob looked Athabascan. Oh, my God! Susan! Travis told me something, that Tiny had been in the Navy, and he was stationed down in San Diego and he got thrown into jail. Maybe Jacob's mother…» His mind boggled at the picture of elegant, slim, beautiful young Jacob, holding his cello, and Tiny, with his
enormous gut and wild black hair and Subic Bay tattoos covering most of his exposed skin, holding his spatula, working a moose burger on the grill. Still, Tiny could sing like… «No fucking way. Oh, sorry. Never mind. I refuse to even consider… Susan, about Jacob. I didn't know him. We didn't talk. I mean, it was just…» He took a deep breath. «I don't know what he came here looking for. But I suspect it wasn't me, Susan.»
Susan propped her chin in her hand and watched him with serious eyes. «Peter, can I ask you something personal?»
«What?» Peter stared down at the cutting board and started mincing the cilantro extremely fine, the sharp, bright green tang filling his nose.
«What did you think you were doing? Did you really believe that everyone in this town wouldn't know about you and Jacob? There are two hundred eighty-one people who live on this island, Peter. You are one of them. And Sebastian is one of them.» * * * * *
Thank God for freezers. They would have a decent tea today, but much of it was being defrosted.
He had the lemon pound cake, of course. All it would need was a nice, fresh, lemony glaze. The smoked salmon pizza was easy, and, of course, it wasn't really a pizza at all, more like a giant loaded cracker, spread thickly with sour cream, purple and green onions, and smoked salmon. Peter could whip up a spicy crab dip in five minutes. He'd been making this one for years, luscious sweet crab in a base of cream cheese and mayo, and he had a jar of pineapple-mango salsa to go with it. Maybe some tiny crab cakes as well, that Thai recipe with lemon and cilantro. No, too similar to the crab dip, which was really more like a casserole anyway. He could slice and butter the whole grain bread, and put out some of those delicious parmigiano and cracked pepper crackers he'd made a couple of days ago.
A smooth, pale green tea might be nice. Something fresh and crunchy as well. Casper will eat anything if it's sitting on a slice of cucumber. Peter pulled a couple out of the crisper,
sliced them into wheels. He daubed sweetened sour cream on one plateful, decorated the tops with blueberries and chunks of pineapple. The other plate hmmm, let's see… He went back to the pantry, returned with a glass jar of bright golden caviar. Perfect.
After Peter had the tea arranged on the buffet in the dining room he went down to the cellar, pulled a couple of bottles of wine out of the cold storage. He had a lovely golden Riesling and a nice white Zinfandel. They were both light and fruity, but after the last few days Peter thought light and fruity might be exactly what they all needed.
Jesse and Phillip were busy working on something, matching laptops click-clacking away. Casper was leaned back in the recliner again, taking one of his ten-minute naps. Mike had finally come down from his room, clean and dressed and looking very much like a lawyer on vacation. Was Mike going to eat his salmon pizza and then sue his ass? Most probably. Peter reached for the corkscrew. «Hey, Peter, would you buy a calendar called Rough and Ready?»
«I can't imagine any circumstance under which I would buy a calendar called Rough and Ready.» He eased the cork out of the bottle. «But I'm sure lots of people would.» Especially if you read graphic novels and lusted after Spartans or gladiators. «You wouldn't buy it even if Sebastian was on the cover?» «Especially if Sebastian was on the cover. Boys, come get something to eat.»
Casper blinked open his eyes. Peer guessed that his brain was wired to register the call to the chow hall. Peter held a glass of wine up. «Casper, would you like tea or a glass of wine? This is a Riesling, and I also have a white Zinfandel.»
«Riesling sounds good, thanks.» Casper took the glass, looked around the buffet table. «Peter, this is beautiful.» He took a cucumber slice with sour cream and caviar. «Thank you, Casper. Mike, what would you like to drink?»
«I'll have a glass of Riesling as well, thank you.» Peter handed him a glass, and he took it and joined Casper at the buffet.
Sebastian and Travis came into the dining room, after apparently having settled young Charlie some place with her feet up. Travis loaded up a plate with enough food for a platoon, took the mug of tea Sebastian poured him.
«She's shy,» he explained, backing out of the room with the food. Peter raised his eyebrows, and Casper grinned at him and sat down next to Mike on the sofa against the wall.
Peter had read about the Romans on their eating couches, and while the idea had its appeal, he couldn't figure out what people did with their plates. Surely not the floor? So he had put in a couple of comfortable love seats against the walls, in case guests wanted to be more casual than the big dining room table, and had placed small side tables on either end, so people didn't have to hold their plates and glasses.
Sebastian was taking up most of one love seat, and Mike and Casper were sitting on the other. Jesse and Phillip were brainstorming Rough and Ready at the table, blowing parmigiano and cracked pepper crumbs over their keyboards in excitement.
Peter checked Sebastian's plate. He was still working his way through his first plateful, with a little some of everything, a mug of tea on the table beside him. Sebastian crooked a finger in his direction. «Do you want something else, Sebastian? Is there enough food, do you think?»
Sebastian tugged him down to the couch by his sleeve. «You're hovering, Peter. Sit down and eat. You're making the guests nervous.»
Peter looked around the room. Nobody looked nervous to him, but he wouldn't mind sitting close to Sebastian for a moment. «Now, tell me what you want to eat and I'll get you some food.» «I'm not really hungry, to tell you the truth, Sebastian.»
Sebastian got up, poured a glass of the golden Riesling, put a couple of crackers and some crab dip on a plate. He brought them back to the couch and handed them to Peter.
Peter took a sip of wine. It really was delicious, a spring wine, cold and faintly sweet and the color of sunshine. «Thank you, Sebastian.»
Sebastian nodded, met his eyes, and Peter lost himself in them for a moment. He had learned over the years to savor these moments, to hold every precious second as close to his heart as he could. Sebastian looked as big as an oak, strong and hard, the lines around his eyes laughter, years of good humor, and happiness. Sebastian reached for his face, traced his bottom lip with a rough thumb. The sharp pang of desire went straight into his belly. It was very unlike Sebastian to touch him like this, to show any physical affection in public. They were both in their forties, with the reserve common in men that age. The tenderness of the gesture caught him by surprise, and he had to turn his head away. «I'm gonna work out in the garden after tea, Peter, maybe get some dog pens built for the puppies.»
