And true to his word, Lionel went to pick him up the next day, put the top down on the little red Mustang, and made three trips to help him move in his stuff. He seemed to have mountains of it, but he made miracles and Lionel hardly recognized the room by Sunday night. He stopped in the doorway and stared.
“My God, what did you do?” He had stapled fabric to one wall, hung plants, put up simple curtains and a handsome painting over the bed. Two lamps provided warm light, there were posters on the other wall. It looked like an apartment in a magazine, and there was a small white flokati rug on the floor. “Did your Mom do this for you?” Lionel knew she was a decorator and he couldn't imagine John doing all that in a matter of hours. There were even orange crates with the same fabric stapled on them, with magazines in baskets, and cushions giving the impression of a window seat. It was a small haven, and Lionel was impressed beyond words and it showed.
“I did it myself.” He looked pleased at the effect on Lionel. Everyone said he had a talent for interior design, he had always been able to take a room and change it in a matter of hours, using whatever materials were at hand. Even his mother said he should do something with his innate ability, he was better than she was, she claimed. It took her months to achieve the effects she struggled for. “I love doing stuff like that.”
“Maybe one of these days, you can wave a magic wand over my room. It still looks like a jail cell, and I've lived here for a year.”
John laughed. “Anytime.” He glanced around. “Actually, I had two extra plants, and I was going to ask you if you wanted them.”
Lionel smiled at him. “Sure. But they'll probably die the first time I walk into the room. I don't exactly have a knack with anything green.”
“I'll take care of them for you. I'll water them when I do mine.” The, two young men exchanged a smile and Lionel looked at his watch. It was seven o'clock.
“Want to go out for a hamburger?” The very words had a ring of déjà vu again, and he was reminded of Paul. It was even more eerie when John agreed and suggested they go to the very place he had gone with Paul the first time. It made Lionel silent and moody for the first part of the meal. He was thinking of that first night when he had gone to Malibu with Paul. He hadn't heard from him in months, and he had seen him drive past once, on Rodeo Drive, in the passenger seat of a beige and brown Rolls with a handsome, older man at the wheel. And they had been talking animatedly as Lionel watched, they were smiling at each other, and Paul had laughed at something the other man said. And now here he was again, with John … his younger brother's best friend. It felt odd. Even more so when they went back to the house they now shared. The other two living there just then were both staying at their girlfriends7 that night, and the others had already moved out at the end of the school year.
“Thanks for dinner.” John smiled at him as they sprawled comfortably in the living room and Lionel put a record on. Two of the bulbs were burned out in the room's main lamp, and the light was unintentionally dim. John lit a candle on the coffee table and glanced around. “This room could use a little help too.”
Lionel laughed. “You're going to have this place in shape in no time, but I think the other guys will discourage you a little bit. When they're here, this place always looks like someone just threw a bomb into the room.”
John laughed too. “My sisters keep their rooms like that.” His face grew more serious. “I've never lived with men before, except my Dad of course. I'm so used to having girls around all the time, this is going to be weird at first.” And then he smiled. “That must sound crazy to you.”
“No, it doesn't. I've got three sisters.”
“But you've had Greg around too. I've always been so close to my Mom and the girls. Ill bet I miss them for a while.”