Forgive and Forget(29)

Chapter Six


JOE wasn’t the only one smitten with Tom.

Bea had gone from being suspicious of Tom to wanting to hire him. His natural talent and skills meant she could give him any job and have it completed swiftly and efficiently. All he had to do was see how something was done once and he had it memorized. Tom strategized and executed his tasks with military precision. The kitchen had never been so spotless. Everything was fully stocked, organized, labeled, and monitored. Tom never missed a beat, and he did it all with a smile on his face and a bounce in his step. Joe had never seen anyone look so happy slicing fruit. The guy never seemed to run out of energy.

“He’s like a superhero,” Donnie gushed as he mopped the floor. “Did you know he can move around the kitchen with his eyes closed and not bump into anything? We tried it this morning. Didn’t run into one thing. He can do pretty much anything with his eyes closed, even carve an apple! He’s teaching me how to defend myself.”

Joe wasn’t too sure about Tom showing Donnie how to throw punches, but Donnie promised he’d be careful, and Tom wasn’t wrong in believing Donnie should know how to defend himself, especially since the kid walked everywhere and was somewhat on the lanky side.

“If you like him so much, maybe you should marry him,” Bea teased Donnie as she took the mop from him and handed him a tray filled with dirty dishware.

Donnie let out a snort. “If I was gay, I’d totally marry him. The guy can cook, clean, and kick butt. Admit it, Bea. You want to marry him too.”

“Son, we would have been on our honeymoon by now.”

“Donnie, don’t encourage her,” Joe muttered as he finished cleaning up the counter and came around the front. The last thing he needed was Bea going on about what she’d do to Tom on her imaginary honeymoon.

“Joe should marry him,” Elsie said with a dreamy sigh. “You two would be perfect together. He’s crazy about you, Joe.”

Joe tripped over his feet. Luckily they’d closed shop early and there were no customers to hear this ridiculous conversation or witness another bout of gracelessness from him. More importantly, Tom was in the kitchen behind a set of thick swinging doors with some old jazz playing.

“I don’t know that he’s crazy about me,” Joe replied, hoping his face wasn’t as hot as it felt. His mind went back to the other night on the couch, and every night since then. Their evening would start out innocently enough. Dinner, some TV, maybe a movie, and then they’d somehow end up pressed together on the couch. Tom would touch Joe, and it would be all over. They’d end up half-naked giving each other hand jobs or blow jobs, with Tom making Joe’s toes curl in his determination to drive Joe out of his mind. Tom’s lips were magic, working Joe over, and oh my God, why am I thinking about that now?

“You’re blushing,” Elsie said with a giggle. “You know it’s true.”

“You know what? Get in the kitchen. Everyone in the kitchen. Mrs. Rotherford’s pies won’t bake themselves, and you’ve left Tom to do all the work.”

“Well, he’s like a one man pie-baking army,” Donnie stated cheerfully as he left to wash the dishes. Joe shooed Bea and Elsie off to help Tom while he finished getting the shop ready for the next day. It was odd how things felt the same around here, yet different, as if Tom had always been a part of their little misfit crew. Joe knew he shouldn’t think about Tom in the long term. For all they knew, Tom would wake up tomorrow and remember everything. Of course Joe wanted him to remember—he would never be so selfish as to wish Tom never regained his memory simply to have him stay—but it didn’t stop Joe from worrying about what came next. Would Tom still feel the same about Joe once he stopped being Tom? Would he stop being Tom?

Bea returned from the kitchen, her pad and pencil in her hand. “Joe, I almost forgot—that friend of yours, what’s his name, the one who wears all those pretty dresses?”

Joe arched an eyebrow. “Care to be more specific?”

“You know, the one who works on Broadway or something.”

“Ah, Ken.”

“That’d be the one. He dropped by while you popped out for groceries, said to tell you he expects you at his costume party this weekend.”

“Oh, I don’t know….” Joe started to grumble when Bea grabbed hold of his arm and hauled him to the other end of the room so fast he almost hurt something.

“You need to get out and have some fun, Joe. Take poor Tom with you. The man’s going to go stir-crazy in there. I bet he’d love the chance to spend some time with you outside of this place.”

“You really think he’d like it?” Maybe Bea was right. Just because Joe enjoyed staying in, that didn’t mean the same went for Tom. Ken’s penthouse was a few blocks down. If they took a cab, went straight to the party and came right back, they should be all right. Plus, it was a costume party, so Tom would be in disguise. “You’re right,” Joe declared, straightening and then marching into the kitchen, where Tom was kneading dough. When Tom saw him coming, the smile on his face nearly knocked Joe over, and he found himself floundering.

“Um, uh, hi, Tom.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I uh, I wanted to ask if maybe, um….” Cripes, why did he turn into such a blithering idiot whenever he was faced with the man? Just do it, Joe. For crying out loud. He opened his mouth and the words tumbled out in a rush. “Would you like to come to a friend’s costume party with me tomorrow night?”