Read Online Hadrian's Lover by Patricia-Marie Budd - Free Book Online Page A

voice fades, Dean groans in disappointment. He had wanted to do all this for Todd, had it all planned out, and then that girl had to show up. No, it’s not her fault , he tries to remind himself, stop blaming women. But he can’t stop himself, and even though he is aware of the unjust nature of his thoughts, he continues to berate Crystal Albright for her presence.
    * * * * *
    After dinner, Todd slips away from the festivities to visit Papa Dean in the master bedroom. Although surprised to see Dean looking quite healthy, Todd believed Crystal when she said he was really ill. He had thrown up in the kitchen sink, she said. Besides, Papa Dean would never abandon him. “Hey, Papa Dean, how are you feeling?”
    Dean sits upright on the bed. Blinking his left eye, Dean turns off the news wave he was watching through his vocal contact lens, colloquially referred to as “the voc.” The voc was the last of the new technology to enter Hadrian pre-6-13: phone, video, game console, timekeeper, camera, and wave link (with holographic screen and keyboard all in one). Microscopic solar batteries combined with the salt water of the eye help to keep the vocal lens charged. Coupled with a tactic tattoo or ear jewelry installed with microphone and speakers, the individual is constantly connected with Hadrian’s information wave. “I’m feeling a lot better, son. I’m so sorry I’m missing your party.” Concerned that Crystal might have botched Todd’s dinner and the cake, he asks, “Did everything taste all right?”
    “O, wow, Papa Dean; that supper was amazing.” Todd’s smile fans Dean’s heart. “Crystal said you had everything ready and that all she had to do was pop the buns in the oven. That beef stew was really something else. What were those big doughy things in it?”
    “Those are called dumplings. My papa…” Dean pauses momentarily, feeling the loss of dear family connections before continuing, “used to make them for me all the time.”
    “They were delicious.” Todd sits down beside Papa Dean. Dean reaches forward and rubs the back of Todd’s new shirt. It is made of thick hemp, a plant grown in Hadrian, so a common fabric, and dyed dark beige with a green foliage pattern (all dyes made by Dean using plants from his garden). “This shirt is really nice, Papa Dean. Thank you so much. Where did you get it?”
    “I bought the fabric and designed the pattern myself. I chose to handsew. I thought that would make it more personal.”
    “Wow!” Todd looks down at his shirt with new eyes, filled with admiration. “You handsewed this?”
    Dean smiles. “Designed the pattern myself.” Musing, he adds, “I sewed one for Frank’s birthday last month, but he’s never worn it. Isn’t flashy enough for him, I guess.”
    “Well, then Frank’s just stupid. I think this shirt is amazing!”
    The shirt is simple in its construction. The collar is only one-inch wide and is double the thickness of the rest of the shirt. The front panels, where the buttons and buttonholes go, are also double thickness and folded identically to the collar, as are the cuffs. Dean would have liked to create two buttonholes for cuff links, but Geoffrey advised him to go with buttons. “There is no pointgiving the boy what he can’t afford, and you always go overboard for his birthdays,” Geoffrey had remonstrated with Dean quite sternly. “How do you think Mike feels when Todd comes home bearing your expensive gifts—things he can never afford to buy the boy?”
    “If Mike paid more attention to his son, I’d care,” Dean answered back.
    To which Geoffrey reminded Dean, “Todd is not your son, and you have to trust that Mike Fulton is taking care of him.”
    But he’s not taking good care of him! Dean wants to yell back at Geoffrey when he suddenly realizes he is not arguing with his husband but sitting in his bedroom talking with Todd. It is amazing how powerful some memories can be, creating their presence so strongly in