Raze (Riven 3)

Caleb had become one of my closest friends over the last few years. Hell, my closest, since Reggie died. And as Caleb had needed me less as a sponsor, I’d let myself relax around him a little more. Been friendlier, more open. He’d talked about Theo; I’d gone over for dinner or helped in the garden. But I’d never reached out to him before. Never confessed anything.

Sleepy Hollow in early October looked like the autumn leaves jigsaw puzzles that had been perpetually in progress on the green felt card table on my grandmother’s screened-in porch when I was a kid. Variegated greens shot through with great plumes of color soared over quaint cottages painted white and black and green.

Caleb was waiting for me in his truck at the train station, and it was only a few minutes’ drive to Rhys and Matt’s.

I’d known Rhys for years, since he was Caleb’s ex-partner and they’d made music together for nearly a decade. Last year Rhys had put out his first solo album and toured behind it, and from what Caleb said it seemed like he was well on his way to recording a second. Matt I had met only a few times, one of which was the night he and Rhys met. Then, Matt had been hollow-eyed, with defenses a mile thick. Now he and Rhys were married and had a dog and lived in a blue house with a barbecue grill out back. They seemed happy. They all seemed so damn happy.

As Caleb parked the truck, I felt a pang of dread at spending the next two days with the most in-love couples I’d ever known. What the hell had I gotten myself into?

“Huey!” Rhys’s voice boomed from the front door. Rhys was big and blond and seemed comfortable anywhere and with anyone. He shook my hand and then pulled me in for a hug.

Caleb snorted. “Jesus, it’s like Clash of the Titans.”

“Hey, Huey!” Theo called. I turned to see him and Matt heading toward us, walking Rhys and Matt’s dog, Max, who was a very sweet dog even though he had a strange sideways gait like a disturbed show pony.

Matt had dark hair and watchful dark eyes that seemed to take in everything, though he rarely seemed to be looking at anything. He was often quiet, though sometimes he started talking out of nowhere, like he’d been part of the conversation all along. He jutted out his chin and squared his shoulders to any new person, making it clear he’d take on anyone, but when Rhys was next to him Matt leaned toward him like a flower to the sun. When Rhys touched him, his watchful eyes went calm.

I got a pouncing hug from Theo and a quiet “Hi, Huey” from Matt. Matt didn’t like to be touched; I didn’t take it personally.

I put my duffel bag next to the couch—Caleb and Theo were sleeping in the guest room, which also held guitars, amps, and coils of cord. It looked out on the backyard, where Rhys and Matt’s wedding had been last year.

Caleb and Theo had brought some vegetables from their garden, and apparently they were determined to pickle them. There were Ball jars and ingredients scattered all over the counter. Matt raised a suspicious eyebrow at the kitchen and flopped onto the floor next to Max’s dog bed, petting the dog’s soft ears.

“Who makes pickles?” he muttered. I was pretty sure he was talking to Max, not to me.

After a few minutes and some strange smells wafting in, though, Matt and I both made our way into the kitchen to observe the utter chaos that was occurring.

“They’re called dilly beans!” Caleb ranted. “They have to have dill in them!”

“But I hate dill,” Theo pointed out.

“You don’t have to eat them!” said Caleb. “They’re for me!”

“Oh yeah.” Theo grinned and Caleb chucked him under the chin. “Do you just…eat them with a fork?”

“Well, uh. Really they go in Bloody Marys, but I guess I could…have them as a snack?”

“You could just make Bloody Marys without alcohol,” Rhys pointed out.

“Oh, yeah, baby, we could use tomatoes from the garden,” Theo said.

Caleb bit his lip and I could practically read the inside of his head: If I have a virgin Bloody Mary, will I wish it were a regular Bloody Mary, and will that make me want to drink a Bloody Mary, which will lead me to wanting other things?

He looked at Theo, bouncing excitedly next to the counter, and said, “That’s a great idea.” Theo grinned and slung an arm around his shoulders.

They pickled carrots, green beans, small cucumbers, and asparagus, until the whole lower floor of the house smelled of vinegar, garlic, ginger, and chili. Rhys got vinegar in his eye and howled, which made Max howl, and made everyone else crack up. Caleb said he wanted to try pickling eggs, and Theo muttered something about hash that got him a swat on the ass and a smile from Matt. Rhys dared me to drink straight vinegar and seemed genuinely surprised that I didn’t respond to dares. And through it all, Max raced around the kitchen hoping for a fallen scrap of food, until what fell was a clove of garlic and he pounced on it, to his great dismay a moment later and our great dismay for hours to follow.