The lunch hour was always bustling at Granny's Diner, both because of its food and it's proximity to the city center. Since its opening it had catered for the hospital opposite it, the school next door, the police station on the other side of the road and the office complex next to the hospital. The interior was inspired by various fairy tales, a gimmick that had turned out to be a stroke of genius as the kitsch and international recognition had made it into a popular place for tourists visiting Boston as well as the locals. The walls were painted a warm, quiet green and were covered in 19th century replica prints of storybook pictures and each booth held its own theme. On shelves stood various items instantly recognizable to most people who entered. Cinderella's shoe was on a shelf above an Italian family who were discussing loudly where to go after lunch. A plastic frog wearing a crown sat leering creepily from it's perch on the back of the booth housing four off-duty police officers, their discussion focusing on the Cubs' chances. A gilded mirror hung behind the bar, the phrase "Who is the fairest of them all?" spelled in golden cursive around the edge.
When Percy Whale stepped in he immediately recognized people at two tables hosting hospital staff, one group of ER nurses sitting at the Sleeping Beauty table – the legs constituted of two spinning wheels. The other, a cardiologist, a pediatrician and neurosurgeon who took up the Snow White table that (unnecessarily in this case) held eight chairs. They spotted him and he got a few waves. Returning them with a nod he scanned the room for who was really there to see. Spotting her in her ridiculous work uniform of dirndl style dress ending quite a bit higher than strictly necessary, white blouse with ballooning sleeves and short red cape he waved to bring her over. Seeing him, she sent a smile over her shoulder to the table of policemen who were busy appreciating the back view of her dress before hurrying over.
Ruby Lucas was the proprietor's granddaughter and head waitress at Granny's Diner and, for several years now, Percy's best friend. She was tall and lithe, with gentle curves and slim muscles. A long fall of naturally loosely curling hair, as dark as sable and just as soft framed a face saved from harsh angles by the soft skin and the set of her features. Razor sharp cheekbones and arched brows framed eyes the color of a summer lake, all greens and blues and offset by her generous lips, easily tugged into a smile and usually painted a bright, siren red. In short, she could turn heads from the other side of a three feet brick wall. Had he been straight he had probably not been able to be her friend, too haunted by the perfect features to manage. So blessing his nature for the millionth time, he accepted her kiss on the cheek.
"Percy Andreas Whale, are you here during work hours?"
"I had to. I need a quick morale boost." He sank down on a stool and Ruby went through the opening in the bar to pin the police officer's orders to the rotating order wheel, speaking over her shoulder with a smile,
"You know we're not legally allowed to serve alcohol until after three."
"Not that kind of boost, Rubes. He came again."
Ruby's beautiful face immediately transformed from teasing smile to sympathetic frown as she turned back.
"Oh, Perce, I'm sorry." She put her hands on her slim hips and shook her head. "His daughter has to be the sickliest kid in Massachusetts."
"She's not, really. He just worries. He's raising her on his own and he…" Percy's mind conjured up the warmth of the anxious father's gaze when he looked at her, the way his thoughts always went to her first. "…He's just wonderful."
"No, you just don't know him." Ruby crossed her arms over her chest. "I bet he's just like all other men. He…ah…lies and cheats and only cares about himself, really."
"Go on, I need more." Like a man dying of thirst reaching for water he hunched over the bar, the worn wood feeling warm under his elbows.
"Ah," Ruby looked around for inspiration, her dark curls swaying around her face. "I bet he never listens, has no respect for others and… and leaves the toilet seat up. Sorry, I've been single for so long now I'm forgetting how horrible men are."
"Not all of them. You've just had extraordinarily bad luck."
Ruby shrugged, "If you say so. I think I've dated enough to be able to speak in general terms though."
Noting that the Italian family of five were looking around them to pay before leaving (having finally decided to go to the museum), Ruby looked around for Carmen. Sighing as the girl was once again nowhere to be found, she pushed her hair out of her eyes.
"I'm sorry, I have to go back to work. Do you feel a bit better at least?"
"I do," Percy lied. "Go, earn tips with that ridiculous outfit." Getting up, he gave her hair an affectionate tug.
"Hey, I earn half as much as you because of this outfit. Now go be a doctor, I'll see you later."
Percy sighed, running a hand through his hair and glanced at the Snow White mirror behind the bar to make sure it didn't end up sticking straight up. If the famous words had meant who had the fairest hair or skin of them all he would be up there in the running, he thought sarcastically as he met the gaze of his reflection.
He had blonde hair that he wore short to spare fuss in the many early mornings he put in. He had pale skin that burnt easier than milk, his German and Swiss ancestry making him seemingly more suited to a life in the shade of the Alps than any sunny beaches. He was a bit above average height with a lean frame that tended to grow gaunt if he skipped gym days. His face was narrow with strong features, high cheekbones and hollow cheeks making him reminiscent of an academic or ascetic. He considered his own best feature his bright blue eyes (though he might sometimes wish they'd been lined with darker, fuller lashes). All in all he thought he was an all right package, attractive in his own right, with the right presentation. As usual he was dressed in grey suit trousers and a button down shirt that looked reliable and reassuring under a doctor's coat. Compared to the man who had just left his office he thought he looked incredibly dull and plain.
Jefferson Madden was a well-known Boston fixture. A likeable eccentric, his clothes were always eclectically reminiscent of Victorian times with cravats, brightly patterned waistcoats and a large selection of coats. Percy didn't know what had set off his infatuation with the era but couldn't deny they suited the man really well. Jefferson always looked either like the perfect lord of the manor or the ridiculously attractive stable boy. Then again, he'd probably look amazing dressed in a sack.
He was a little shorter than Whale with a slightly heavier build, broader over the shoulders and with strong arms that Percy wondered felt as good as they looked. His hair was dark and fell over his forehead, shading eyes the color of storm clouds, hiding his real feelings as effectively as a cloud would hide a clear sky. A square jaw, a wide mouth and a five o'clock shade of stubble whatever the time of day all set Percy's glands to work. Everything about Jefferson always had.
Jefferson's family had lived in Boston for as long as there had been a Boston. Probably most famous for instigating the riots of the Boston Tea Party the Maddens had remained at the core of Boston society for over two hundred years and the latest heir apparent was Jefferson Lewis Madden. Starting his life as a pampered princeling he had morphed into a globetrotting young playboy, his crazy stunts and pranks using the money amassed through his family's tea trade earning him the ridiculous nickname "The Mad Hatter". This was before a short and stormy marriage had resulted in a daughter. After that he had virtually disappeared from the society pages, focusing on raising his daughter and taking over more of the family business – the tea. The Maddens were to tea what the Hearsts were to publishing and their slogan "Madden for tea" was recognized all over the world.
All of this Percy knew because his own family moved in the same circles, as did he when the mood struck, his family's line tracing back to a branch of German nobility before becoming one of the oldest genteel families in Boston. Their name had morphed from the German von Whael to the more American friendly Whale in time. His great-grandmother had insisted on von Whael until the day she died but Percy had never minded avoiding spelling his surname at every turn. In fact, he rarely moved in what his mother liked to call "company" anymore. He preferred his work and lifestyle kept separate.
Leaving the Diner he looked up at the hospital, its stark cement silhouette comforting to him in its ugly functionality. Though not pretty or graceful Percy thought of it as a marvel of performing what it was meant to do. People went in hurt and (hopefully) left whole again. It never failed to make him feel useful. Needed. Something his parents would never understand. Especially his mother. She adored all things that were not useful, in anything from her hobbies to her possessions. She surrounded herself with masses of things of no purpose or function, simply there to be pretty. A little bit of how she had wanted her children to be, there in her life to make it look complete but with little interest in them beyond their superficial value.
His father was slightly better but was mainly concerned with maintaining the good standing of their name. He thought Percy was not living up to the standard that was only in his head. Being a doctor was respectable, the title looked good on invitations and place cards but actually practicing as one was not appreciated by either of his parents. And if he absolutely had to practice medicine, they couldn't understand why he felt the need to work at a public hospital when he could have a "nice and quiet", as they put it (meaning expensive), private practice anywhere he wanted. Then again, they had never understood him at all anyway. He stuck his hands in his pockets as he ambled across the road.
This was one of the many reasons he tried to keep his life separate. Another reason not to keep his parents as an integral part of his life was the fact that he was gay. Living in the 21st century seemed to hold little appeal to his family and their circle of friends so Percy kept his preferences quiet from them and made sure to bring female dates when he couldn't avoid going alone to an event. Usually they were boring women his mother would approve of, insipid paper dolls who spent their lives looking after their looks and whose most interesting conversations included where they had gotten their latest pair of overpriced shoes and what the circle of "friends" (the same ones they had been seeing since before kindergarten) had been doing. Usually each other, in a long line of semi-incestuous liaisons.
Striding up the back stairs of the Grimm Memorial Hospital Whale was glad to note no one had seemed to miss him while he was out. He'd been working on an excuse that sounded more plausible than the truth, which was that he had a serious crush on Jefferson Madden and whenever the man brought his daughter for a check-up Whale had to get out to calm down afterwards. Jefferson seemed to feel the need to bring his daughter for a check-up at least once every two months and Whale was sure he would soon develop some type of anxiety disorder from it. Chatting with Grace, pretending not to notice as Jefferson prowled around the examination room, never standing still and letting Percy relax, always touching things and picking them up and setting them down. Percy seemed sensitive to his every move, each flicker in his eyes, down to his very scent. The purely Jefferson mix of masculine after-shave, a faint hint of tealeaves and the leather of his coat.
Entering his office now he was sure he could still smell it. Throwing the window open and leaning out, gulping down large breaths of cold Boston air he wondered why fate couldn't be fairer. He had dated plenty of men, had had serious relationships with three, had been in love with one. But all through it there had always been the nagging attention he couldn't help paying Jefferson Madden. Long before Jefferson had started to come to the hospital for Grace's check-ups Percy had been unable to keep from reading the pieces about him in the society pages, had gone to events where he thought he would be attending, had surreptitiously asked his mother about him. It wasn't as if he spent every moment of every day thinking about him but for fifteen years he also hadn't been able to shake the vague crush. A bit like he imagined people remembered their high school sweethearts because they were the first, he remembered Jeff because he had been the very first boy he had ever been attracted to.
Sitting back in his office chair, the window still open, the sound of traffic filling the room. An ambulance wailed past and someone honked. Rush hour was just starting and the traffic was rumbling like a sleeping dragon waking. Closing his eyes and leaning back Percy thought back to the young Jefferson.
He had seen him countless times over the years but the memory that stayed with him was from when he was fifteen. Percy had been home in the U.S. from his private school in Switzerland for Christmas. Finding himself at yet another obligation party, in Aspen of all places, getting in turns ignored by the adults and subjected to the same questions he always was about his school, his grades and his German he was bored out of his skull. Suddenly he had noticed a boy his own age creeping along the wall. In spite of the similarity in age he had no awkwardness marring his appearance, no scrawniness or pimples in sight. He wore the school blazer of Boston's foremost private school and a secretive expression as he sneaked past the groups of Boston's finest. Following him with his eyes he saw the boy duck under a table and disappear from view. Frowning, he had wondered what business the boy had under the table before the answer had become painfully clear.
Dozens upon dozens of white rabbits had appeared from under the long buffet table, their ears twitching as they looked around before setting off like a fluffy, white stampede down the ballroom. At first he'd been shocked but then the laughter had bubbled up through him as society ladies climbed chairs and portly men wearing evening jackets chased the much faster bunnies over the highly polished parquet floor. His mother had glanced icily at him from her perch on top of a Chippendale chair and he had bowed his head and quietly slipped out.
Finding a quiet spot on a balcony he drew deep breaths of cold, clear air so different from the damper air of Boston. Aspen was his parents' favored spot for Christmas. Not because they skied but because they enjoyed the views and, above all, it was expected that they would be there. Percy genuinely liked it, he could ski all day and avoid his parents who'd rather eat using only one set of cutlery than strap on skis and it reminded him of Switzerland, which he considered more of a home than Boston now. So ignoring the cold he stuck his hands in the pockets of his suit trousers and looked up at the stars.
"Pretty funny, huh?"
He turned from his spot and saw the boy in the school blazer in the doorway. In his arms was a white rabbit. Percy raised a brow.
"Where did you get all the rabbits?"
"Chef. They breed them to eat. I thought they might enjoy a little run."
Whale couldn't help the smile though he fought it.
"I knew you thought it was funny. I saw you laughing."
"I was not."
"You were. You saw Countess Holstenstern climb that chair while her husband pushed her up cause she was too fat to do it herself and you laughed."
"I…Okay, fine, it was a little funny."
"You should've seen my dad's face. Now that was funny." Setting down the bunny that scuttled off to nibble at the plastic leaves of the potted plant in the corner he stuck his hands in his pockets. "You're Percy, aren't you? Percy Whale?"
Surprised, Percy nodded. "How do you know?"
"Ah, who doesn't? The golden child of the Boston social circle. Going to private school in Switzerland, speaks four languages, academic genius, star skier, handsome and playing by all the rules. Ancestry traced back to Wilhelm the Conqueror and table manners that would make the Queen of England cry with joy. You're the son my parents wish they had."
He couldn't hear any resentment except for the words "playing by all the rules". He did do that though, so he let it slip. It was easier to play by the rules, that meant people would usually leave you alone. Alone to do whatever you wanted in peace.
"You're Jefferson Madden, aren't you?"
"At your service," Jefferson bowed with an exaggerated flourish but ruined the gentlemanly impression by looking up and grinning wolfishly. Approaching, he walked past Percy and hoisted himself up on the banister to sit.
"You shouldn't sit there. You could fall."
The response was automatic and Jeff grinned.
"Could I? What if I don't fall? What if I just get to sit and swing my legs and have a good time?"
"Maybe. You could fall though."
"Oh? Like this you mean?" With a laugh he leaned back and dropped himself over the edge. Percy's heart stopped and rushing forward he leaned over the ledge.
"Jefferson? Jefferson!" He heard a laugh and looked straight down where the other boy was lying in a snow bank. "Are you insane? You could have died!"
"Died? The snow is five feet deep, Percy."
"You don't know what could have been under there. You could have fallen on a rock or a…a…"
"A hidden reindeer? A yeti? An ice pick?"
"Don't be ridiculous. It's just… It's just dangerous."
"But fun. You should try it."
"Absolutely not."
"Come on, Whale, it's just a few feet. It feels great." Jefferson spread his arms and legs to form a snow angel. "Live a little."
"I'd like to live a lot, which is why I'm going to stay up here."
"Suit yourself. But I think it'd do you good."
"It would do me good to fall into a heap of snow?"
"It would do you good to do something unexpected. Just for the hell of it."
For some reason Percy suddenly wanted to jump off the ledge. Just for the hell of it. And he wanted to be able to say "hell" without sounding ridiculous.
"It's stupid."
"So be stupid. Who's going to know?"
Percy opened his mouth to say that who saw wasn't the point at all before he changed his mind. What was the point anyway? Looking around, he hesitantly swung his leg over the banister. Jefferson cheered and sat up in the snow.
Suddenly all Percy could see was his laughing face, his smiling lips and the twinkle in his eyes. He wanted to be closer to them, see them sparkle in mirth, see exactly how the color of them changed when he laughed. So he took a deep breath and let go. The fall was shorter than he had expected and landing in the snow with a soft "woosh" he felt the snow mold to his body, the cold not yet registering, making it the most comfortable thing he had ever lain on.
"Way to go! Wanna do it again?"
Sitting up to look into Jefferson's glittering eyes it had all melted together. The exhilaration from doing something completely pointless just because it was fun, the laughter and relief mixing with how he felt his eyes get stuck in Jefferson's every time he met his gaze, how his body seemed to be mirroring his in stance, as if it wanted to be the same as his. His heart had beaten heavier and his cheeks had grown warm. Shaking his head as he tried to hide what he thought must be painfully obvious, the new wish in his eyes. But Jefferson had simply shrugged.
"I guess the snow's too packed now anyway." He lay back down again and sighed, the breath rising in a puff of steam from his mouth. For a moment Percy wanted to inhale it himself, know the same air that had been in his lungs would be in his. Then he shook his head and leaned forward, hugging his knees to his chest and wondering what was going on inside him. Emotions he had never known were racing around his chest and unsure of what to do he rested his chin on his knees.
Then an angry voice had called,
"Jefferson Lewis Madden, are you out there?"
"Uh-oh." Jefferson had sat up with a start. "Have to be off. See you around, Percy."
Then he had grinned and been off, in the opposite direction of the angry voice. The rest of the holiday Jefferson had been grounded and Percy hadn't seen him again until the next year at a party where the other boy had been busy following an eighteen-year-old Italian girl with legs to her ears around. And so the friendship that could have been had ran into the sand as it passed with time. It had become nothing but a memory. A crystal clear one to Percy who sometimes looked into it in his mind like a snow globe, seeing himself next to Jefferson in the snow, so young, only feeling the first flutters of innocent love and the golden hope that comes with it as the snow fell quietly around them.
And perhaps he had imagined, hundreds of times, that he had leaned over, given into the wish and been brave enough to press his lips to Jefferson's. They'd have been cold and tasted of the sweet punch they'd been serving inside. His lips would curve in a smile under his before parting in welcome and… Percy sat up. He was much too old to fantasize about a teenage boy, no matter that the boy was the same age as him now. The blue Colorado mountains faded from his mind and his office came back into view. The phone was ringing angrily and the evening had started to fall outside. Rubbing his eyes he spun his chair back to the desk and picked up the phone.
"Dr. Whale, your four o'clock is waiting." The desk nurse's tone was clipped and he guessed she had been calling for a while. She could have crossed the corridor and knocked but the woman considered that demeaning and never left her chair behind her all-important welcome desk.
"Send her in, Margo." Running his hand through his hair he banished the last remnants of the daydream and looked up as Belle Gold entered.
"Belle, welcome. How can I help?"