by Sean Kennedy
Funny how that one word emphasised summed up everything.
“You have to stop worrying so much,” Declan said. “We can still go out, I mean, shit, Abe goes out one-on-one with other guys all the time, and he never has his sexuality questioned. If we go out with a guilty air, that’s what’ll make people suspect. And I don’t want to make us scared so that we can never leave the house together. That’s not what I want for us.”
“But we have to be careful.”
“We were careful,” Declan assured me.
“Maybe I’m just feeling guilt because I’m the one doing the bad thing.”
Declan suddenly sat up, and I found myself face down in the pillow. “Shit, Simon!”
I sat up. “What?”
“Don’t you ever fucking say that again!”
“What?” I asked, truly confused.
“The bad thing,” he spat.
I hadn’t even realised what I’d said and how it could be construed. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
“Maybe on a subconscious level you did.”
That hurt, so I stupidly struck back. “Hey, I’m not the one in the closet!”
Even in the dark, I could see his face fall.
It was the worst thing I could have said, and I told him so immediately. “I’m sorry, that was stupid.”
He shook his head sadly. “Hey, it has to come up sooner or later.”
“I know you have to be, because of the industry you’re in. I understand it on every logical level. Believe me.”
“Well, I don’t want you to start thinking shit like us being a bad thing because of it,” he said sadly, staring at the doona that was shoved up between us.
“I don’t,” I said honestly. “Hey, look at me.”
When he didn’t, I took him by the chin and made him. “Dec, I don’t think we’re a bad thing. I’m in this because I really like you, and I want us to go further. I think we’ve got something, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” he said just as truthfully. “I do.”
“So we’re going to have some issues now and again, but we’ll get through them.”
“And this is just the first one.”
“Probably just the first of many,” I said cheerily.
He could only laugh at that. I gently pushed him back down upon the mattress and draped my arm over his chest. He wrapped his around my shoulder and placed his free hand upon my arm, stroking it gently. “I could get used to you being here.”
“I would rather have you in Melbourne.”
“Well, that’s true. I’d rather be in Melbourne. Guess it’s going to be like this for a while.”
“I think you’re worth it,” I said, glad we were in the dark so he couldn’t see me.
“Only think?” he teased. “I know you are.”
I wished I could be as sure about my worth to him as he was. To me it seemed as if the scales were tipped heavily in my favour as to who was winning out more.
“Are you sure I didn’t fuck up?” I asked.
“I’m sure,” he said, sounding sleepy. “And I’ll tell Abe and Lisa, even though I don’t think it’s a problem. They really liked you.”
I still felt troubled and stayed awake far longer than he did.
When the alarm went off at four, I dressed silently in the dark. Declan tried to rise, but I kissed him and pushed him back down.
“I’m calling a taxi,” I told him. “You have those appointments in a few hours, get some more sleep.”
“I’m driving you,” he protested, but I shut him up in the best way possible with my mouth on his.
“You know I’m right,” I said.
He groaned. “I don’t want you to go.”
“I don’t want to go, but hey, real life calls.”
“Please let me drive you.”
“Get some sleep, babe.”
That new magic word between us seemed to placate him. “Fine. Call me when you get to work so I know you got back safe.”
“Yes, Mum.”
“Shut the fuck up.” He laughed tiredly.
And that was how I left Declan, falling back asleep in the bed I wished I could have stayed in with him. I picked up my bags, closed the door behind me, and called for a taxi as I walked to the lift.
I was glad Fran had forced me into doing this, but once again I didn’t feel all that happy at the end of it. I wondered if I would have been better off staying in Melbourne over the weekend, but then reminded myself of all those moments with Declan in which our relationship seemed to solidify and become even stronger, and I realised I shouldn’t wish it away.
But I still locked myself in the tiny tin toilet while miles above the Bass Strait on the flight home and tried not to cry.
Chapter 13
I MUST have been exhausted, because after catching the shuttle from the airport into the city and walking to the office, I promptly fell asleep in my chair while staring out the window. I hadn’t even switched the lights on.
Nyssa came in to switch on the light, emitting a small scream when she saw me sitting there, which jolted me awake.
“You scared me!” she cried. “And… you looked kind of dead.”
I felt kind of dead.
“Why are you in here so early?”
“I wanted to get here first,” I yawned.
“Then why were you asleep?” Her eyes narrowed. “Are you checking up on me?”
“It’s not review time, Nyssa. I got here early, and I was tired.”
Nyssa frowned. “You’re getting weirder and weirder lately. Do you want a coffee?”
“I love you.” I smiled at her.
“Funny how you never show that when it is review time.”
“I don’t get to make the budget, you know that,” I yelled after her. “Otherwise you would be making double!”
“Triple!” she yelled back. “I’m worth it!”
I chuckled and did the old yawn-and-stretch. My phone rang, and I yelled to Nyssa that I would get it.
“You didn’t call me,” came the accusatory voice.
“I fell asleep as soon as I got in here,” I said.
Declan didn’t sound impressed. “I was flicking through all the news channels, trying to find out whether your plane had crashed.”
“Bullshit.”
He laughed. “Okay, I’m ashamed to say I just got up.”
“Well, you better get a move on. Your first appointment’s at ten.”
“Wasn’t it you who was calling me Mum this morning?”
“Call me later,” I told him.
“I will. And hey?”
“Yeah?”
“In case I didn’t say it enough, thank you for coming over here. Seriously.”
“Any time.”
“Don’t say that. I’ll hold you to it.”
I was smiling to myself as I hung up the phone. Nyssa placed a mug before me, examining my unusually happy expression with suspicion.
“Okay, who were you talking to?”
“Nobody.”
“You’re looking like it must have been somebody.”
“Wrong number.”
She gave an exasperated sigh. “Screw triple. I should be getting quadruple.”
I took a sip of coffee and gave a long, contented groan. “With this coffee, yes, you should.”
IT DIDN’T take that long for Roger to call me.
“You had lunch with Abe Ford?”
I instinctively sat upright in my chair as my spine turned to icy steel. “How did you know that?”
“The net,” he replied. Could it have been anything else?
My spine was now trying to work its way out through my throat, no mean feat.
“Where exactly?”
“Did you really?” he asked again.
“Roger, where?” I repeated, ignoring the wheedling in his voice. My spine had now worked its way out of my throat and found the nearest bridge to jump off, and my heart was planning to follow.
“The Me
rcury online,” he sighed.
The Tasmanian newspaper. This was not good. I quickly brought up their site. I couldn’t see any lurid photos splashed on the main page of us enjoying yuppie pub fare, so I barked to Roger, “Which section?”
“Seen About Town.”
Ugh, society column. The haven of the rich and the bored. I clicked upon its link.
“What are you doing reading that?”
“Fran told me.”
“What was she doing reading it?”
“To see if you were mentioned.”
I shook my head, slightly miffed with my friends and at the loading speed of the web page. When it finally came, I could let loose a small breath of relief. There was no picture, just a two-line blurb:
Salamanca Place: Devils Declan Tyler and Abe Ford, dining with
Ford’s girlfriend Lisa Jacobs and unknown friend.
So nothing too salacious. In fact, it could even be as an assumption I was Lisa’s friend. But still, it was the first time I was mentioned in proximity to Declan in the press. I wonder how he felt about that, seeing as I was close to hyperventilating.
Still, unknown friend? Could I feel slightly miffed about that as well?
“Simon, are you there?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, tell me.”
“What?”
“What was Abe Ford like?”
And it was like we were fourteen years old again, discussing the private lives of the football gods of the time, wondering what they ate, what they drank, where they went, and what movies they might like. For once I was able to satisfy Roger’s fantasies and give him the details he had always wished to know in the past, about one of the players in the present. He took them all in hungrily, even down to whether Abe Ford had a lemon or a lime in his Corona.
Pretty soon though, it turned back to the old argument.
“So Declan introduced you to his friends, and we still haven’t met the guy?”
“You insulted him at a party and offered to fight him,” I reminded him.
“Yes,” Roger admitted shamefacedly. “But we still haven’t formally met.”
I decided to throw him a lifeline. “Well, next time he’s in town, I’ll have you and Fran over for dinner.” Declan had already suggested it when I told him Roger was desperate to make up for his less-than-stellar performance at the party. “It’s only fair,” he had said. “My friends got to judge you. Yours have to return the favour now.”
“No,” Roger replied grandly. “We’ll have you!”
I couldn’t believe my good fortune. “Okay, that’s even better. I won’t have to cook.”
“And neither will I!” Roger laughed.
I couldn’t help but join in. “Fran would kill you if she heard you say that.”
“Just don’t tell her.”
“You know she’ll know anyway, but you owe me.”
“No, you owe me. I still can’t believe you had lunch with Declan Tyler and Abe Ford on Sunday.”
“I know they’re gods on the field, Roger, but when you meet them you realise they’re just people.”
“Yeah, when you meet them. What’s the use of having a friend who’s dating a superstar of the game if you don’t get any fringe benefits?”
“You sound like you want to date him,” I pointed out.
“Very funny.”
“He doesn’t even play for your team.” I paused. “Literally and figuratively.”
“Once again, funny. Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate his talent.”
“You’re sounding gayer than anybody else I know at the moment.”
“Fuck off, unknown friend.”
I hope that didn’t start to stick as a nickname.
“HELLO, my unknown friend.”
So much for that. Declan obviously sounded okay; better than me, at least.
“You saw it?” I gulped.
“No, I’m psychic,” he replied tinnily. It was a bad connection. “How did you see it?”
“The friend network.”
He understood immediately. “Ah, yes, Roger and Fran.”
“Are you okay?”
Declan sounded confused. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
“It’s not very discreet, is it?”
“It didn’t say you were my boyfriend.”
I nodded and realised he couldn’t see me.
“Are you okay with it?” he asked.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”
“You don’t sound it, Simon.”
“I guess I’m being jumpy for you.”
“I thought we agreed you’d try to stop that.”
“I know. I’m fine.”
He didn’t sound so sure, but he let it drop.
“How did your appointment go?”
“I’m starting more intensive physio this arvo. They want to try and avoid surgery until the end of the season.”
“What, so you don’t miss any more games?”
A bitter note crept into Declan’s voice. “I could hardly miss any more games, could I?”
“I know. So it’s better this way, right?”
“The one good thing is I’ll have to come to Melbourne for the surgery.”
“And recover here?” I asked hopefully.
He laughed finally. “You’ll probably have to fight my mum for that honour, though.”
Like that was ever going to happen. Still, at least I might get to see him a little more. I couldn’t believe I was wishing surgery upon Declan so he’d be trapped in the same city as me. I sucked as a partner.
The sound of somebody clearing their throat came from the doorway. I looked up to see Fran, standing there with a cheeky look on her face. I wondered how long she’d been eavesdropping.
“Are you free for lunch?” she asked.
“Fran?” Declan asked from the other side of the country.
“You guessed it,” I agreed.
“Tell her I hope I’ll see her in a couple of weeks.”
I relayed the message back to her and had to laugh when she gave a totally self-conscious little giggle. Declan had no idea of the effect he had on people, even people like Fran who didn’t know one end of a football from the other.
“I think that meant ‘cool’,” I told him.
“I better get going, and so should you. I’ll speak to you soon.”
“Bye, Dec.”
Maybe a bit more formal than I would have liked after the weekend we had just spent, but we had an audience. I hung up, and Fran leaned in and punched me on the shoulder.
“Smitten bloody kitten.”
“SO, ARE you happy that I made you go?”
Fran looked particularly smug as she took her last bite of pizza and patted her mouth with her napkin. I screwed mine up and threw it at her.
“Just admit it.”
I took a sip of my Coke and made a face. “Fine. I’m happy you made me go. And Declan thanks you.”
Her face took on a slightly dreamy expression. “Really?”
Feeling slightly impish, I added, “He said he was going to give you the biggest kiss you’ve ever had in your life when he sees you.”
There was that starstruck giggle again. You would think Fran was suddenly crushing on my boyfriend, the way she was going. “Really? Well, Roger might have something to say about that.”
“The way he is at the moment, I would think he would be jealous he wasn’t getting the pash.”
“Oh, I know! He wouldn’t shut up about Abe Holden on the phone.”
“Abe Ford.”
“Holden, Ford, whatever. I knew it was some kind of car.”
I laughed, wondering what Abe would make of the casual dismissal of his name.
“What?” Fran asked, looking at me suspiciously.
“Nothing.”
“You’ve changed,” she mused.
“No way,” I scoffed.
“You have. Sure, you still look like the same cynical, wannabe hard-hearted Simon Murray—but there’s too
much smiling and real laughter sneaking out every now and again. You know what?”
“What?”
That smug smile again. “You’ve become one of us.”
“Us what?”
“One of those awful, gross people in love.” She rolled her eyes to great effect.
“Oh, bleh!” I so didn’t want to be that.
“It’s true, Simon.”
“You lie.”
“No, you lie.”
“I am not in love with Dec.” Even to me, that sounded hollow.
“You so are.”
“I like him. In fact, it’s a very strong like which has the potential to go further—” A bread roll hit me square in the forehead. “Fran! Fuck!”
“That’s what you get for lying.”
I’m not sure it was technically a lie. And although I knew I could be falling in love with Dec, I wasn’t sure if I was there yet. It was all too early, and besides, if any admittance of love was to be made it should first be done to the man involved and not one of your best friends.
She looked at me smugly, as if she could read something in my face I wasn’t aware of myself. I hate that. She shrugged casually and poured herself another water. “I wonder if this came from a river in Egypt. You would know!”
I ignored her.
“I HAVE to go to this bloody barbecue this weekend.”
“Will it be that bad?” Declan asked.
As usual, we were not together physically; we were connected only by signals that bounced off towers and satellites. I lay in bed with Maggie; Dec was in his own bed, which I could now picture, seeing as I had actually been in it. If we were in a movie they would have shown us on a split screen to give the illusion of togetherness.
But in real life he couldn’t feel any further away.
“I’m considering throwing myself under a tram to get out of it.”
“Not a train?”
“No, I don’t want to kill myself. Just maim myself slightly.”
“Well, I don’t want you killed or even maimed. Just suck it up and go.”
“What, to see my brother’s latest squeeze pretending to be the last in a long line of squeezes? Hoping to be the Annette Bening to his Warren Beatty? And the rest of my family ignoring the fact I’m queer so they can keep on pretending one day I’ll bring home a pretty girl?”