CHAPTER 12

"I enjoyed having dinner with you," Perry says while helping Martha with her coat.

"So did I," she smiles back as she puts on her hat and gloves.

"You know, the evening doesn't have to end."

She looks up at him. "Oh, Perry," she says with laughter in her voice. "I'm very flattered, but I still love Jonathan. I would never cheat on him."

He stares back at her with surprise. "I wasn't thinking about that, Martha."

"Oh," a sheepish expression on her face. "Pardon me. I guess I misunderstood."

"It's alright," he replies. "I understand why you might have thought that."

"Then what did you mean?" she asks in a curious tone.

"I was thinking that I could walk you back home because it's already dark unless you were going to take a cab instead."

"I could use the fresh air," she says after thinking about it for a moment.

"Shall we?" extending his arm.

"We shall," she nods her head and takes his arm.

The lights come back on and the audience begins to applaud.

"So what do you think of the opera so far?" Oliver asks as they make their way through the throng of people.

"I really like it," Clark replies as they enter the lobby. "My barbers were right."

"Barbers?

"Yeah," Clark replies. "Raymond cut my hair and Dominic colored it."

"So what were they right about?" Oliver asks.

"That there's a difference between hearing the music on a recording and hearing it live. They didn't say it in those words exactly, but that was the jist of it."

"They're both right," Oliver says with a smile. "By the way, I did notice the change in your hair. Why did you take out the gray?"

"I don't know," Clark shrugs his shoulders. "I suppose I wanted to try something different," looking up at him. "You don't like it," a sorrowful expression on his face.

"I didn't say that so don't put words in my mouth," Oliver gently chides him. "I was just curious, that's all," he says. "They both did an excellent job," he remarks as his hand reaches out. "So soft," he mutters as his fingers gently thread through Clark's head. "Just so you know," lowering his head. "I find you very attractive, gray or no gray," pressing his lips briefly against Clark's ear before straightening up. "So what would you like to drink?" tilting his head in the direction of the bar.

"I'll have whatever you're having," Clark replies.

"Two glasses of champagne coming up," flashing Clark a wink as he heads towards the bar.

"I'll head on to the men's room while you get the champagne," Clark calls out after him.

Oliver stops and turns around. "I'll meet you over there," Oliver as he points to a spot near the staircase.

"Alright," Clark agrees, turning around and walking away. Once he's out of Oliver's sight, he leans back against a wall with a sigh. I'm in trouble alright, he thinks to himself before turning around and entering the men's room.

He's putty in my hands, Oliver grins inwardly as he finally makes his way up to the bar. "Two glasses of champagne, please."

At the same time, Jonathan walks up and stands next to him. "Canadian Club and ginger ale and Dubonnet on the rocks, please," he tells the second bartender.

They barely glance at each other as they wait for their drinks. "Here you go," the bartender handing Oliver his drinks.

"Thank you," Oliver says just as he spots Clark making his way to the staircase. He makes his way through the crowd of people. "Here you go," handing Clark one of the glasses.

"Thank you," says Clark as he takes the glass from him. "That one is Chagall," pointing to one of the huge paintings on the wall.

"That's right," Oliver replies. "As you can see, he was a great artist."

"I've seen his work before. It's always looked gaudy to me," Clark remarks.

"He was having some fun."

"They get some turnout for this stuff," Clark says while sipping his champagne.

"It's the best thing there is," Oliver says with a smile as they continue to study the painting.

"I like parts of it, but some of it I just don't get," Clark shrugs his shoulders.

"Art is subjective after all. It's all in the eyes of the beholder," Oliver says. "You can have ten people look at a piece of art and end up with ten different opinions."

"That's true," Clark agrees with him as they finish up their drinks. "Come on, let's go back in," he says when the lights flicker two times.

"Yes, Sir," Oliver says in a teasing tone as they give their glasses to a passing waiter before heading back inside.

"Would you believe that the last time I was in your house was over five years ago?" Perry remarks as they approach the corner brownstone.

"I can't believe that," Martha says as they stop in front of the stairs. "Has it really been five years?"

"That's right," shrugging his shoulders.

"Well I'm going to do something about that. How about you come over for dinner one night?"

"I'd like that," he smiles at her as she opens her purse.

"One one condition."

He looks at her curiously. "Which is?"

"You bring Alice," she replies as she fishes out her keys and starts to climb the stairs.

He shakes his head. "I seem to recall telling you that we're separated."

She stops midway and turns to face him. "I do recall that," she replies as she goes back down the stairs and walks over to him.

"Then why would you give me that condition?" he asks.

"Because I know that you still love her and miss her, that's why. "You know what you need to do for her to take you back. Just do it."

"I can't just retire," he insists.

"You can work less hours," she counters. "You could delegate some of your lesser responsibilities to people you trust implicitly."

He stares back at her with brows raised. "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," she replies with a straight face.

"You know damn well what I'm talking about," his eyes narrowing.

She just shrugs her shoulders. "It's ultimately your decision," she says while giving him a peck on the cheek before walking back up the staircase and inserting the key into the lock. After opening the door, she turns around.

"I know you'll do the right thing," she adds. "Merry Christmas, Perry," she smiles back at him as she enters the house and closes the door behind her.

Perry just stands on the corner with his hands in his coat pocket and waits until he sees a light go on in the house. When he sees her in front of the living room window waving to him, he waves back before turning around and walking away.

"Still can't get through to Clark?" he asks as Lois angrily shoves her phone back into her pocket.

"What do you think?" she snaps back at him.

"No need to take it out on me," he remarks without looking up from his iPad.

She exhales noisily and lays her head back against the headrest. "It's not like him to not answer his phone. I'm starting to get a little worried."

"He's a big boy," he says in a reassuring tone. "He can take care of himself."

"I know that," she sighs again. "It's just that it's not going to be an easy conversation," turning her head.

He looks up and sees the anxious look on her face and puts the iPad down on the empty seat to his left. "I know," taking her hand.

"I just hope that he doesn't take it too hard," she replies back. "He wanted it as much as I did."

"From what you've already told me about Clark, he'll be fine," he tells her as she continues to bite down on her lower lip. "You're going to draw blood if you keep doing that," he quips as he lowers his lips and presses them lightly against hers. "There. How does that feel?"

She looks up at him and smiles. "Much better," her hand reaching out to stroke his face.

Clark watches, enraptured by the scene unfolding on the stage. He tries to blink the tears away as Mimi sings her heartbreaking aria of farewell to Rudolph while they stand in the lightly falling snow. He glances over at Oliver and notices the intense look on his face as he stares at the stage. He turns his head back just as a single tear slowly begins to slide down his cheek.

Oliver's hand rests on Clark's knee for a moment before moving it up his thigh to wrap his fingers around Clark's hand. He raises their joined hands and presses his lips against Clark's fingers without taking his eyes off the performers. Clark looks over just as Oliver's eyes finally move to Clark's face, their eyes glistening as they gaze at each other.

A short time later…

Clark dabs his eyes with a handkerchief as Oliver hands the check to the coat check person. "That was just…awful," he says in an emotional voice as he blows his nose and returns the handkerchief to his jacket pocket.

"Awful?" Oliver looks at him with confusion.

"Beautiful. Sad. She died!"

"Yes," Oliver sighs as the checker hands him their coats.

"I couldn't believe it! I didn't think she was going to die. I knew she was sick…"

"She had TB," Oliver replies as he assists Clark with his coat.

"I know. She was coughing her brains out and still she had to keep singing-" his jaw suddenly dropping at the sight before him.

Oliver looks up at him. "Something wrong, Clark?" he asks as he puts on his coat, turning to see what Clark was staring at.

Clark doesn't register the fact that Oliver said anything. "Dad?"

Jonathan looks up while helping Mona put on her coat and sees Oliver and Clark standing there. "Clark?"

The four of them stare at each other for a long moment. "Wait for me by the doors, Mona," he tells her.

She nods her head and leaves. "Mona?" Clark looks at his father with narrowed eyes as soon as she's gone, then turns to Oliver. "Excuse us for a moment," he says as he grabs his father's arm and steers him a short distance away.

Jonathan puts on his hat and adjusts the scarf around his neck. "What happened to your glasses?"

"I got contacts. What are you doing here?" he asks again.

"What are you doing here?" Jonathan counters back.

"It's not what you think," Jonathan replies.

"What do I think?" Clark glares back at his father.

"This is not the right time or place to be having this discussion," Jonathan responds in a cool tone. "So why are you here with another man when you're supposed to be engaged to be married?"

"You're already married so don't you dare stand there and judge me," Clark retorts back in an angry tone.

"You're my son. I won't have you acting like a figlio di puttana."

"Now you remember your Italian?" Clark says incredulously.

"Alright," says Jonathan. "I didn't see you here."

"I don't know if I saw you here or what," Clark responds back.

Jonathan briefly tips his hat before taking his leave

Clark just stands there and watches his father walk away. He points to the retreating forms of his father and Mona when Oliver comes over to stand next to him. "That woman wasn't my mother, okay?" shaking his head sadly.

"I know," Oliver says while gently rubbing Clark's lower arm. "Let's get out of here and I'll buy you a drink."

"I guess," Clark says with a sigh as they walk over to the front entrance and exit the building.

"You better straighten things out with Clark," Mona tells Jonathan as he walks her to her door.

"I'll talk to him in the morning," he tells her as she takes out her keys.

"Good," she says as she opens the door. "I don't want him thinking that I'm the 'other' woman," she says as she steps inside and turns around.

"Okay," he says and gives her a brief hug and a kiss. "In case I didn't tell you, I had a really nice time tonight."

"I did too," she smiles back. "Thank you for…well…everything."

"There's no need to thank me. I was more than happy to be your escort," flashing her a wink as he turns and walks down the stairs, stopping at the bottom and turning back around to make sure that she's in the house. He waves back at her before getting back into his car and driving away.

Perry climbs the stairs and briefly hesitates, then takes a deep breath and exhaling before he finally presses the doorbell. A moment later, the door opens. "Perry?" her eyes widening. "What are you doing here?"

He takes a few steps forward until he's standing directly in front of her. "I love you and I miss you and I want to come home."

She shakes her head sadly. "I love and miss you too, but we can't go back to the way things were before."

"I know," he replies. "I've been thinking about it and while I'm not yet ready to retire, I do have a counter offer for you."

"Oh?" arching a brow.

"I've decided to make some changes in my work schedule."

"What kind of changes?" she asks out of curiosity.

"I'll work a regular nine to five schedule from Monday to Friday with Saturday and Sundays off. No overtime unless it's absolutely necessary."

Her jaw drops as he continues talking. "I've also decided to delegate some of my lesser responsibilities to Clark and Lois."

"Really?" her eyes beginning to glisten a little.

"Really," taking her hands in his. "I could also be persuaded to leave work early or take an additional day off from time to time," he adds with a wiggle of his brows. "So…what do you think of my offer?"

She takes a moment to wipe her eyes on her sleeve before leaning forward to press her lips against his. "Does that answer your question?" she asks after pulling away.

"It sure does," he smiles as they kiss again.

"Welcome home, honey," taking his hand and leading him into the house, the door closing behind them.

The Boerum Café

The sound of Moonglow plays in the background while Clark and Oliver sit at the bar. Clark just sits there nursing his drink and staring straight ahead while Oliver finishes his off. As the bartender takes Oliver's empty glass, Oliver turns to Clark. "So what do you want to do now?" he asks him.

"I just want to get my stuff from the apartment and go home," says Clark as he gets up from the stool and walks towards the front door.

Oliver puts a couple of bills on the bar. "Merry Christmas, Al," Oliver says to the bartender as he walks away.

"Merry Christmas to you too, Ollie," he smiles back as they exit the bar and get into Oliver's limo. Clark stares morosely out the window without saying anything until the car pulls up to the curb just outside the bakery.

"I'll be right back," he mutters without looking at Oliver as he gets out and goes into the building. He comes back out about ten minutes later with the duffel bag that contains the empty garment bag folded neatly inside it. Oliver lowers the window when Clark lightly taps on the glass. "I think I'll walk home from here," Clark tells him.

Oliver opens the door and gets out. "I'm not letting you walk home alone, especially considering the emotional state you're in right now," he declares as he snatches the bag out of Clark's hand and tosses it on the seat opposite from where he was sitting.

"But…" Clark starts to say.

Oliver puts his finger over Clark's mouth. "No," shaking his head. "If you insist on walking home, then I insist on being your escort – and that's final," he declares.

"Fine," Clark sighs and begins to walk.

Oliver closes the door and walks around to the driver's side. The chauffer lowers the window. "Yes, Mr. Queen?" he asks.

Oliver leans forward through the window and whispers something in his ear. "Yes, Sir," turning his head and pulling away from the curb after Oliver takes a few steps backwards.

Oliver half-runs to catch up with Clark. "He'll meet me at home," Oliver tells him, who doesn't say a word as they start walking down the street side by side in silence, the light of the full moon shining down on them…

TO BE CONTINUED…

FYI:

In the movie, Cosmo tells Loretta not to act like a puttana, which means whore in Italian. Of course in my story I can't have Jonathan calling Clark one because he's a man, so I used figlio di puttana, which means son of a bitch.