Michael stood quietly
behind Cody, neither bothered nor intrusive as two men hugged and
wept on his front doorstep.
Eventually, Luigi let go
and turned towards Michael. “Thank you!” he said very quietly,
and Michael knew he meant it with every part of his being.
“Anybody would've done
what I did,” demurred Michael.
“Maybe, but you were
there and you did it. Thank you.”
“It was nothing.”
Michael was much more troubled by Luigi's gratitude than he'd been by
them kissing, and Luigi was touched. A straight man who was OK with
gays. That was new. For a moment he inspected Michael for signs of
errant sexuality and found none, and then was forced to chuckle
inwardly at his own bad habits.
“I brought you some
clothes,” he said to Cody, giving him the plastic bag with the
shorts, T-shirt and sweater.
“Thanks! Michael lent
me these boardies ...”
“... oh please keep
them! They're my old ones and I hardly ever go to the beach these
days.”
“I shall frame them,”
said Cody in perfect seriousness. Then he realised that he would
have to explain to Phillippa, that he hadn't yet made his excuses,
and he felt sick with worry and despair.
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