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.»
Mike was watching them. Peter lowered his eyes, then glanced up at Jesse and Phillip, giggling at the table.
«I know you want a piece of that lemon cake up there,» Casper said, gently taking Mike's empty plate out of his hand. «I've noticed you've got a sweet tooth like me.» Mike blinked up at him. «Yeah, I do. Thanks, Casper.»
Casper brought the wine bottle back, filled both their glasses, then returned with the cake. He sat back down next to Mike. «I've been coming out here for four years,» Casper said, very quietly. «I see what you're doing. You're looking around, thinking everybody's hooked up and happy except you. You're thinking, once again you are sitting here alone, the last man chosen. But that isn't the way it is in this room, Mike. You're just feeling miserable. You need to spend a little more time looking at the people around you, and decide you don't want to keep feeling like shit just out of habit.» Mike didn't say anything. His glass of wine was suspended in the air. «Want to come fishing with me?»
Mike blinked, his cheeks flushing pink. «I don't know how to fish.» His voice was a bit accusatory, as if Casper had just questioned his manliness. «Do you know how to sit in a boat?»
Mike set his glass of wine down carefully, sat back, and took a bite of lemon cake. «Yes, I do,» he said, finally. «It might be worth sitting in a boat, getting cold and wet and stiff, to find out what it is you want from me.»
Casper leaned back, grinning. Then he laughed, a big, booming laugh, and for a moment he looked so ferocious and wolf like that Peter thought he might very well appeal to the legal mind. «Good. I'm looking forward to it. I'll wake you up early.» Sebastian nudged Peter with an elbow, grinning. * * * * *
Mike and Casper took a stroll in the mild evening light, both with their hands in their pockets, glancing at each other shyly as they walked down his garden paths. Peter could not believe it. He stood at the big kitchen window, shaking his head, watched them walk out of sight along a path through the woods Sebastian had laid out over ten years earlier. «I do not believe it,» he said, when Sebastian came into the kitchen carrying a stack of plates. «Why not?»