Wait and Hope: Chapter Four
Parting Again
Rissole couldn’t keep his eyes off Harry’s backside as he limped stiffly towards the bank of phones. It was out of concern for the disabled man, to make sure he didn’t fall. Rafe figured Furnham was exhausted and in pain from having walked so far.
Harold’s lost weight and his gait is so much more stilted but that butt still looks so enticing. I thought it was because of all the alcohol I had downed on the subway car when I was so drawn to it that first day by the river, but I was stone cold sober at our diner when I thanked him for the job and it has been seducing me ever since.
Rafe was so focused on watching his charge and looking around the ranting woman he nearly fell off the bench seat when she practically screamed, “Rafe! Are you even listening?”
Furnham had to grasp Jack’s leash more firmly in his hand, his voice low and firm while commanding the dog, “Volg!” The assist dog was always obedient and immediately heeled to his masters left, following the man close by his side as Harry continued limping back to the bank of payphones on the far wall past the restrooms. The slack in the leash increased slightly more than after the dog heeled, when Harry gave the softly spoken command, “Zit!” Still the dog’s anxiety at believing his Alpha was being threatened by the irate woman and being held in check from going to assist his missing pack mate, transferred itself up the leash like faint aftershocks Harry could feel in his hand.
Of course the chance of a finding a phone book anywhere near a payphone was as rare as discovering a real gold nugget in a box of Corn Flakes. Of course, Harry would have to dig through his wallet to find his mechanic’s business card.
I wouldn’t have had to search for anyone’s number, especially a mechanic’s, they were programmed into my phone. My cars were too well maintained. The limo, the Town Car and the others never had mechanical problems, never broke down.
The former Harold Finch felt brief flashes of anger, frustration and sadness before falling back into defeated acceptance that his former life was gone, probably forever.
I’m Harry Furnham now, a poorly paid employee of the public school system and owner of a beat up old Ford sitting alongside the road somewhere.
With the cane propped against the wall and the grip of the dog’s leash wrapped around his left wrist, Harry pulled the worn leather billfold from the back pocket of the khakis he had worn today.
He wasn’t trying to eavesdrop on Rafe’s conversation with the obviously irate and upset woman. She didn’t seem be one to lower her voice even when the few of the diner’s customers looked up from their meals and over at the loud-mouthed woman.
“Sherry, please sit down and I’ll tell you,” Rafe pleaded as he tried to calm the woman down. She dropped onto the booth’s bench seat opposite from Rafe flopping down in a huff and folding her arms across her chest. Harry lowered his eyes going back to search for the mechanic’s card when she looked past Rafe scowling in his direction.
“Okay, I’m waiting. I have a cell phone; you couldn’t call to let me know you were going to run late?”, the woman complained still not bothering to lower her voice, oblivious it seemed to scene she was causing.
“I am sorry I didn’t call. I didn’t leave my apartment when I had planned but still thought I had enough time to get here. I just never planned on…”
The rest of the conversation Harry didn’t pay much attention to once he found the business card. Resuming his phone call by sliding coins into the payphone’s slot he began tapping out the numbers at the dial tone. He had to wait for the answering service to transfer the call to the garage’s emergency after hour’s number. By the time Harry Furnham had spoken to the tow truck operator, given him the address of disabled car and set up a time to meet the driver there, Rafe was obviously finished with his explanation why he had been late getting to the diner.
Sherry was swirling ice in a glass with a plastic straw glaring angrily at the man sitting across from her before she turned the glower in Harry’s direction as he approached the table. Her eyes narrowed a fraction before she gave him an icy smile.
Rissole made to get up to offer Harry his seat when Sherry reached across the table and grabbed Rafe’s hand, “No don’t get up Rafe, darling, Mr. Furnham can have my seat. I need to go; one of us needs to show up at the restaurant. I had to use my credit card to make the reservation and The Hanging Gardens charges an outrageous cancellation fee.” The woman really didn’t bother to hide the accusatory stare she gave Harry as she got up, blaming him without saying the words, this all your damn fault you know?
Sherry extended her hand to Mr. Furnham after she got up, “I’m sorry to rush off, I would have loved to get to know Rafe’s new friend here a little better.” She pulled her hand back when Harry couldn’t take it, his hands full with leaning on his cane with one and holding Jack’s leash in the other.
The woman couldn’t get away from the table fast enough when she looked at what was tethered to the other end of the leash and Jack gave her one of his mouth full of wicked teeth doggie sneers and a rumbling deep in his chest.
Harry sat down on the padded bench recently vacated by the fleeing woman. He had been trying to keep it held in check, but once he saw Rafe trying to hide his own amusement over the dog’s ‘greeting’, he burst out laughing, Rafe joining him with his own roars of mirth. Kylie bringing their order stopped their guffaws, but both men still had wide grins on their faces.
I don’t remember laughing this hard since Arthur and I sang our old MIT song.
Rafe had tried to stop laughing, he really had. Sherry after all was supposed to be his girlfriend, and he shouldn’t be this amused over the woman’s hasty retreat away from Harry’s vicious attack dog.
Thank you, Bear. I haven’t heard Harold laugh so hard since I spied on him when he was with his nephew Will.
Rafe became all seriousness when Kylie asked if they needed anything else. “No, thanks, Hon. Would you mind asking Carl if he can handle things on his own for a couple of hours? I don’t think I’ll be back when my shift starts.”
“No problem Sugar, we kind of figured you might be late. It was kind of hard to miss the show your girlfriend was putting on. Carl already told me he’ll cover for you until Tom gets here. Sherry called her uncle complaining you and she had a fight. Tom called the diner and when I answered, said to tell you to take the night off if you need to.” Kylie winked at Rafe before seeing to her other tables.
Furnham reached for the sugar dispenser and added his usual one teaspoon full to his tea and then squeezed the lemon slice that was hanging from the edge of the tall glass and began stirring. He was trying not to listen to Rafe and Kylie’s conversation beyond what concerned him, which was Rafe had someone to cover the man’s shift doing whatever Rissole’s job was and time to get his stranded charge home. Nonetheless he didn’t miss the part of the conversation about Rafe getting the rest of the night off and Kylie’s wink. Of course Rafe would need to mend fences with his girlfriend.
The man who was once Harold Finch was so overwhelmed with jealousy and bitter disappointment that he almost knocked over the glass with its contents he’d been stirring.
Of course John has a new life with new friends… and a girlfriend. Why did I ever believe he wouldn’t find someone new? We had only just put what happened with Joss behind us before we were separated again.
Harrington Furnham collected himself and gave Rafe a wan smile as the man started drinking his coffee and paused between swallows asking, “Well Harry, I have the night off apparently. So do we need to get back to your car right away?
The former John Reese wanted to get Finch alone again, to ask how the other man was doing and to find out if Harold even wanted him anymore. Finch had tried to get away from him out there in the parking lot.
I have missed you so much Finch, missed being with you. We had so little time together making up in that hotel room in DC before we were separated again. I am partially to blame for that too. Do you even want me anymore?
Harry decided they might as well not rush off, the wrecker operator had told Mr. Furnham he wouldn’t be able to leave right away and they had agreed to meet at the disabled Taurus in an hour, “No Mr. Rissole, we have time to finish our drinks and I think I could use another iced tea. I never realized how thirsty I actually am right now. As you can see walking is hard for me and the exertion has left me quite parched. So do you work here?”
I’m just babbling on. I really don’t want this time here to end. Once John has dropped me off at the brownstone I doubt I’ll ever see him again. Mr. Reese has his new life and is happy, why would he ever want to be with me and be reminded of all the pain associated with our former lives?
Rafe returned Harry’s with a smile of his own, only with more enjoyment at the prospect of getting to stay awhile longer with his new acquaintance, the happiness reflected in his blue eyes. “Okay let me get Kylie’s attention and she can get us both refills. I am only on my first cup of Joe in my nightly requirement of fifty.”
Rafe chuckled when the man sitting across from him raised a questioning eye. “And yes I do work here. I am the night cook at this place and thankfully I can drink all the coffee I need to for free. I still have a hard time sleeping through the day and some nights get long, extremely boring and tiring. I might doze off in the cooler if I wasn’t caffeine wired.” Rafe laughed an infectious laugh that had Harry following suit right along with him.
I love to hear you laughing Harold. You always carried the weight of the world on your shoulders so you rarely did and even your smiles were never ones of true happiness. Are you content with your new life? Will my coming back into it bring back that despair you once cocooned yourself in? Is it so wrong of me to need to be back with you, am I that selfish?
Harry kept the conversation going when the amusement at Rafe’s joke was only big grins on their faces, “No offense meant against this establishment, but the diner doesn’t seem busy enough right now to require it being open twenty-four hours. I can understand why you have little enough to do to keep you active in the wee hours. What is there for you to do?”
Kylie the waitress walked up with her carafe of coffee to refresh Rafe’s cup and a fresh glass of teas for Harry. “Don’t let this mild mannered night chef kid you. Once he puts on that apron of his, he becomes the super man who keeps this place open. The diner might be dead now but during the day you can’t find a place to sit.” She waved the hand with the carafe toward the empty lobby. “See that? Tom had to have the dining area renovated because of the standing room only lunch and dinner crowd.”
After the waitress was done praising Rafe’s accolade as superman cook: hero to patrons of Perry’s diner citywide and left to man the cash register, Harry had the tact to look contrite.
“I apologize for my incorrect assumptions, Rafe, what exactly do you do? Furnham face showed regret at his choice of words briefly before that was replaced by sincere interest.
Forty-five minutes later the men got up to leave, Harry deeply impressed at what Rissole’s duties actually were and how Rafe had excelled at them improving the diner’s quality of its fare.
Sitting for so long though wasn’t such a good thing for his back, hip and leg so it was difficult for Harry to get up. Neither man was the least bit concerned with some of the diner’s staff or customers watching as Rafe helped the disabled man up and held onto one arm with one hand the other arm wrapped securely around Harry’s waist as they made their way out into the parking lot.
Harrington Furnham should have been bothered by a virtual stranger holding on to him almost intimately…
… but Harold Finch leaned into the embrace, letting John bear his weight all the way back out to Rafe’s old truck.
Rafe Rissole was only doing what he needed to do to help the exhausted and obviously hurting disabled man up and out to Rafe’s truck. He was concerned the other may fall and was only supporting Furnham by holding the weaker man up…
… John Reese filled a want that hadn’t been assuaged in months, holding someone he loved close to him. He was only helping Finch out to Rafe’s vehicle, regardless holding Harold like that felt so right.
Rafe walked his exhausted charge out to the old green Ford, having let go once only long enough to get them both out the diner’s entrance and now to open the passenger door. Jack who had followed the men out the door jumped in first resuming his position on the middle of the seat. Harry couldn’t believe he had forgotten about his constant four legged companion. Jack had been sleeping under the table of the vacant booth behind John while the two men had talked.
Rafe helped the assist dog’s handicapped companion onto the seat and into the truck, anyone passing by only watching a person with disabilities being aided getting into the vehicle.
John was reveling in the intimate caresses disguised as aiding Harold, helping him pull his damaged leg into the vehicle, touches that lingered a little too long on a thigh or knee.
I know Finch is exhausted yet he didn’t flinch or pull away when I brushed my hand over his leg and held onto his knee. He didn’t resist the contact.
Harry sat back against the seat after Rafe closed the door and trotted over talk to an older gentleman in a newer SUV. While waiting for the Rafe to finish chatting with the man who obviously was Tom the manager, Harry absentmindedly stroked Jack’s head.
Was John touching me affectionately or were my own desires misinterpreting the way he touched my leg, held onto my knee?
Rafe hopped into the driver’s side, his conversation over, and drove them the too short distance to the disabled old Ford sedan. Each man was hoping for more time with the other, the possibility of this being the very last time they were able to nagging at the back of their minds,.
The younger man asked Harry to stay where he was and jumped out of the truck to give the tow driver the key. Furnham watched Rafe looking under the hood apparently showing the driver what had happened to the Taurus. Rafe glanced over at the passenger in his truck once concern clearly showing in those blue eyes before turning his head back checking something the driver was pointing out.
Harry had no doubt that Rafe had seen for himself the damaged radiator hoses.
Harold knew John wouldn’t let it go. John’s protectiveness of him couldn’t let it go even if his getting involved could put Reese in danger and not from the homophobes that damaged Harry’s car.
It was a silent ride to Furnham’s brownstone, Harry only speaking to give Rafe directions.
When Rafe pulled the truck into Furnham’s empty parking space Harry turned to Rafe to thank him for all his help and Harold had to tell John goodbye, he couldn’t intrude in John’s new existence and possibly endanger his ex-partner’s life in the process, “Thank you, Mr. Rissole for all you’ve done. I better get inside, Martha’s probably worried sick about me. And I am sure you have some troubled waters to calm with your girlfriend?”
Rafe took his hand when Harry offered it, only he held it hard and too long. “No problem. I was happy to Harry. You know where to find me if I can do anything for you ever again.”
Harrington Furnham walked the short distance from the curbside and up the three small steps to his door way, each movement felt like he was walking in waist high wet cement. Hearing the truck starting up and pulling away was a like a knife to his heart.
Martha came out her door the moment Harry came through the entry way. “Thank God, I was worried sick about you. What happened?
For the first time in their short acquaintance Harrington politely told her, it was none of her concern and he did not wish to discuss it with her. “I am sorry Martha. I really need to go upstairs and lie down.”
His neighbor stayed outside her own unit long enough to make sure Harry made it up the long flight of stairs and then without out even calling goodnight up to him as usual she went back in her apartment none to gently closing her door behind her.
Harrington was hurting terribly physically and the part that would always be Harold Finch was in even more pain mentally. That part was dying because he had lost Reese again; he had deliberately shut him out of Harrington Furnham’s life.
Before Harry knew it the bottle of single malt he’d purchased for a 'special occasion' was nearly empty. One glass turned into one too many as he drank to try to dull the pain. No matter how much Harry/Harold drank, seeing the despair in John’s eyes while he watched Harry pull a confused Jack out of the truck cab before turning and walking away, was an image that wouldn’t disappear into alcohol induced oblivion. It just became more vivid with its hands around his throat choking him.
He assumed the knock on his door could only be Martha and he tottered in his bare feet, shirt unbuttoned and thinking to himself.
What the hell. I never invited her up. Let her see the drunk I am.
Only when he opened it, the last thing he expected was a determined Rafe shoving past him into the apartment.
Harry had enough of his faculties left to close the door, but only just enough,
“John, how in the hell did you get in here?” Harold slurred out drunkenly.
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Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five
Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Epilogue