Page 64 of The New Place

“Just don’t move,” Abbot says, though he shifts to turn in the warm circle of Ned’s arms, facing him. He lets himself study Ned’s face, his skin flushed, his eyes closed. Gently, Abbot shifts his fingers through Ned’s hair.

“Hmm?” Ned draws in a breath. “I’ll clean up. Just a second.”

“You’re already asleep.”

Ned nestles closer. “M’not.”

Abbot holds him. He could stay here forever, which is impossible, but at least he’s gotten to return to this moment again and again over the last year. That will stretch forward too, into their shared future, when they see each other more frequently, their lives threaded together.

Yes, together. At Newbury. With Beverly.

Abbot closes his eyes and refuses to let this perfect moment slip away. “Everything will work out,” he says. It will. It has to.

“Hope so,” Ned murmurs. “I absolutely don’t ever need to date anyone else ever again, now that I’ve got you. I just didn’t know HR needed a damn checklist.”

“I know.” Abbot does know. And Ned is certainly committed. Just like Abbot is. It’s different from any relationship Abbot has ever had, and really simply that easy.

15

NED

They’re not exactly late to the Realtor’s office, but they’re not early either, and Ned is very sure Abbot would have been here ten minutes ago. Though had Abbot left on time in his own car, he wouldn’t have found Peggy’s cape, and Ned would still be on his stomach looking under the couch, searching behind the TV, and going through her backpack for any spot a discarded mess of dirty fabric could land.

It was by the recycling, for some reason Ned still can’t figure out. Abbot had plucked it from among discarded cardboard just as the bus pulled up.

“So this is Beverly’s wife?” Ned asks, trying to reorient from hustling Peggy out the door to whatever this is. Pretending he’s looking for a spot to move, apparently. “Do you know her?”

“No.”

Yep, great start to the day, them running late and Abbot shutting down into his I don’t want to talk about anything.

But it’s fine. Or it will be fine. Committed. Ned is committed to getting this woman and Beverly and whoever else at Newbury to think whatever they need to about the two of them, and if he has to look at real estate listings to get that to happen, he can spend the morning doing exactly that. He opens the door for Abbot and gives him a smile, so whatever committed looks like to this Realtor, it’s at least on his face as soon as they walk in.

He’s pretty sure committed really means putting aside a cup of tea and the newspaper to search for a cape, but this is fine too.

“Coffee?” the receptionist offers.

Ned takes the mug she hands him, sipping it as he looks at pictures and listings of houses displayed around the room.

If things had gone differently, maybe Ned would be looking at a house now. If he hadn’t had so much debt from college. Or had earned more all those years he was a student at Callahan. Or hadn’t bought a house already, and then lost it in a damn divorce.

Or if he was Abbot, who can actually look at property and not sweat it that Peggy came home from school yesterday chattering about how the cape club wants to go to summer camp.

Yeah. A trip to Europe and a week of sleepover camp, all without a job? No fucking way.

He takes another sip of too-weak coffee and tries not to look at the prices staring at him.

A door opens and a woman steps out to greet them. “I’m Sandy, so nice to meet both of you. Come in,” she says, her brown hair neatly curled and a smile on her face as she shakes their hands. Her beige sweater and slightly darker pants look like they’re meant to match the blond wood and white of the decor, and when she leads them back to her office, it boasts a wide glass desk with two chairs in front of it that look more artsy than structural.

Ned sits as he takes in the elegant arc of a floor lamp and potted plant that fits just so under its curve. This is a nice office, in a nice neighborhood, and Sandy clearly sells nice properties. Ned eyes the papers on her desk, printed photos of kitchens and living spaces and…

And that’s a lot of zeros on that listing. He glances at Abbot, but if he’s struck by the number of digits, he’s at least hiding it better.

“So you’re Henry,” Sandy says with a warm smile. “Beverly told me all about you.”

Ned grabs for Abbot’s hand, trying to forestall any shrinking into himself. He can feel Abbot stiffen, and he cuts in before that coldness can find its way into Abbot’s words.

“What a small world,” Ned agrees. “Thank you so much for seeing us on short notice.”