wasn’t in the small crowd waiting in Palmerston North Airport. Admittedly, New Zealand didn’t really do crowds. Just as Nikolai was about to fish out his phone, Vadim pushed through the doors. He stuck out because he was so tall and still wide-shouldered, never mind perfectly dressed. Nikolai, worn down by more than twenty hours on three different planes, was too exhausted to do more than stare, bleary-eyed, at the man he’d always thought was his father.
“Nikolai.” He came over and paused, as if momentarily unsure whether to take his baggage off him, or offer his hand or a hug. He settled on a hug and then took the baggage. “How are you? Bad flight?”
“No no, it was good. Just, you know, if I believed in Hell, it would be sitting in a plane and never arriving.”
Vadim laughed and put a hand on his shoulder, guiding him gently. Nikolai was so dazed from the flip-flopped time zone that he had almost no will of his own left. “Hop into the car,” Vadim said, steering him to a shiny new 4x4—the contrast couldn’t have been bigger to—
Fuck Henri.
He climbed into the car while Vadim threw his suitcase into the back. When he sat down next to Nikolai, Nikolai just regarded him, the gray hair, the lined face, the big shoulders and very respectable biceps beneath his shirt. He looked like a supremely active, healthy, happy, sixty-year-old. Sixty-something. “You’re looking good.”
“Home? You look like something spat you out.”
Nikolai yawned. “I slept a bit on the plane. What day is it? I’m not completely sure.”
“Our booking starts today, but we can drive there in the evening, if you prefer to sleep.”
“Home, then.”
Vadim started the car and drove off, and Nikolai glanced at all the large, handsome houses as they drifted past. Everything felt all right in laidback Palmy. It always seemed remote enough to be peaceful, which was probably why his father had chosen to stay here. Then they left the small town and were out in the green Manawatu Plains. Down into a valley, across a river, and there it was, what Vadim called “home.”
“I can just crash on the couch,” Nikolai said when they were inside, desperate to close his itching eyes.
“We do have a guest room.” Vadim regarded him with crossed arms. “Though, no. We moved some furniture in there. We’re redecorating the office.”
“I’ve slept in much worse places.”
“Just go upstairs, use our bed. It has fresh sheets and is the quietest room in the house.”
Nikolai smiled and shook his head. “As long as you’ve . . . removed all the sex toys.”
Vadim gave him a quizzical look. “Don’t open any drawers.”
“God, no. I never do. Anywhere.” Nikolai paused and noticed Vadim’s unease. And now he felt like a dirtbag. Talking about sex with his father— not his father—was something he never thought he’d do, even if it was just sex in very general terms. He hated that haunted look in Vadim’s eyes. Was he at peace with being gay? Was he at peace with the idea that Nikolai knew he had sex? What was that weird silence between them? “I . . . uh. That was Too Much Information, right?”
Vadim waved him off, but what would have looked like an easy, throwaway gesture for anybody else became a grave and serious thing with Vadim. “Go to bed. You’re exhausted.”
“Okay. What are you going to do?”
“Fix something to eat and call somebody.”
“Who?”
“My therapist.”
Seemed he couldn’t take a step without putting his foot in it. “Are you all right?”
“Just forgot to tell him I won’t be around for the normal appointment this week.”
“Okay.” He should think, sit and talk to Vadim, but his brain felt like it was swollen and rubbing against the inside of his skull. “It’s good to see you. Really good. I hope I’ll be coherent in a few hours. Maybe wake me in the afternoon?”
Vadim nodded, and Nikolai grabbed his bag and headed upstairs. He knew where the master bedroom
“Nikolai.” He came over and paused, as if momentarily unsure whether to take his baggage off him, or offer his hand or a hug. He settled on a hug and then took the baggage. “How are you? Bad flight?”
“No no, it was good. Just, you know, if I believed in Hell, it would be sitting in a plane and never arriving.”
Vadim laughed and put a hand on his shoulder, guiding him gently. Nikolai was so dazed from the flip-flopped time zone that he had almost no will of his own left. “Hop into the car,” Vadim said, steering him to a shiny new 4x4—the contrast couldn’t have been bigger to—
Fuck Henri.
He climbed into the car while Vadim threw his suitcase into the back. When he sat down next to Nikolai, Nikolai just regarded him, the gray hair, the lined face, the big shoulders and very respectable biceps beneath his shirt. He looked like a supremely active, healthy, happy, sixty-year-old. Sixty-something. “You’re looking good.”
“Home? You look like something spat you out.”
Nikolai yawned. “I slept a bit on the plane. What day is it? I’m not completely sure.”
“Our booking starts today, but we can drive there in the evening, if you prefer to sleep.”
“Home, then.”
Vadim started the car and drove off, and Nikolai glanced at all the large, handsome houses as they drifted past. Everything felt all right in laidback Palmy. It always seemed remote enough to be peaceful, which was probably why his father had chosen to stay here. Then they left the small town and were out in the green Manawatu Plains. Down into a valley, across a river, and there it was, what Vadim called “home.”
“I can just crash on the couch,” Nikolai said when they were inside, desperate to close his itching eyes.
“We do have a guest room.” Vadim regarded him with crossed arms. “Though, no. We moved some furniture in there. We’re redecorating the office.”
“I’ve slept in much worse places.”
“Just go upstairs, use our bed. It has fresh sheets and is the quietest room in the house.”
Nikolai smiled and shook his head. “As long as you’ve . . . removed all the sex toys.”
Vadim gave him a quizzical look. “Don’t open any drawers.”
“God, no. I never do. Anywhere.” Nikolai paused and noticed Vadim’s unease. And now he felt like a dirtbag. Talking about sex with his father— not his father—was something he never thought he’d do, even if it was just sex in very general terms. He hated that haunted look in Vadim’s eyes. Was he at peace with being gay? Was he at peace with the idea that Nikolai knew he had sex? What was that weird silence between them? “I . . . uh. That was Too Much Information, right?”
Vadim waved him off, but what would have looked like an easy, throwaway gesture for anybody else became a grave and serious thing with Vadim. “Go to bed. You’re exhausted.”
“Okay. What are you going to do?”
“Fix something to eat and call somebody.”
“Who?”
“My therapist.”
Seemed he couldn’t take a step without putting his foot in it. “Are you all right?”
“Just forgot to tell him I won’t be around for the normal appointment this week.”
“Okay.” He should think, sit and talk to Vadim, but his brain felt like it was swollen and rubbing against the inside of his skull. “It’s good to see you. Really good. I hope I’ll be coherent in a few hours. Maybe wake me in the afternoon?”
Vadim nodded, and Nikolai grabbed his bag and headed upstairs. He knew where the master bedroom
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