"Come see my house," I said and pulled his arm toward the various rooms.
His house was full of antiques and solid wooden furniture. Mine was sleek and modern and decorated in whites and grays. When I opened the door to my bedroom, he laughed loudly. “What the hell is that?” he asked, looking at my bed.
“It’s a bed; it’s on cables suspended from the beams.”
He walked over and looked underneath it and then up at the ceiling. “Will it hold me?”
“Yes, it’s very sturdy and actually earthquake proof.”
“Why is it so thin?”
“It’s made of condensed foam. It contours to your body,” I explained.
“I’m sleeping in my truck,” he said under his breath.
"I didn't come into your house and make fun of your grandpa looking stuff," I growled.
“You mean my bed, that has legs on the floor and a mattress and headboard, what was I thinking?”
I heard the doorbell ring at that moment. I turned and walked from the room, so I wouldn't have to show Tennyson the bidet' in the bathroom. Eric stepped in and gave me a cautious look. "Is it safe to enter?" he asked.
“Please, be nice,” I begged, with a worried expression.
Tennyson came into the entry area to stand behind me, and I introduced the two men without looking at either one. Tenn extended his hand and Eric shook it with just his fingers. “I like your hat,” Eric said, causing Tennyson to tense a bit.
“Honey, why don’t you put your bag in my room and I’ll make you a drink,” I said to Tenn, and he nodded and walked out the door.
“He’s cute,” Eric said, grabbing my hand and pulling me into the kitchen, “Very…manly.”
“Be on your best behavior,” I warned Eric.
I was making margaritas when Tennyson came back into the room with us and leaned against the counter. "I have a hair appointment tomorrow, so Eric will take you to your fitting," I said and hoped Tennyson didn't turn and run.
“Fitting?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m wearing a black dress, so yours should be conservative,” I added to comfort him.
“Boots were in a few years back, but you won’t be able to wear them this year,” Eric said to him, and I watched Tennyson’s jaw tighten.
"I don't wear them as a fashion statement," Tenn explained.
“Oh, I know, but they used to be around here,” Eric tried to clarify.
“Tell Tennyson what to expect on the red carpet,” I said to Eric.
Eric got excited and began talking as he used his hands flamboyantly. “You are going to love this, darling. Your job is to stare at Jules lovingly. Act like she is the best tuna in the world.”
“Jules,” Tennyson called out, telling me he was quickly reaching the end of his patience and wouldn’t tolerate what he considered inappropriate jokes about women.
"Eric, slang upsets Tennyson. He thinks you are disrespectful to me."
“No, no, Jules’s my bitch,” Eric mistakenly said, and Tennyson grabbed him by the front of his shirt as I seized his arm to intervene.
"He doesn't mean it like it sounds, Tennyson. He means were buddies, and we understand each other."
“Unclench, Rin Tin Tin,” Eric said, as he pulled away from Tennyson. “The Rambo crap doesn’t play well in these hills.”
Tennyson gave me a perplexed expression that hinted at his anger. I smiled and said, "Do you understand the words individually, but the way we put them together confuses you?"
He nodded and a slight smile form on his face.
“You are working the manly stubble,” Eric said, and Tennyson self-consciously rubbed his chin.
I handed him a drink, and he gulped it quickly causing Eric to laugh loudly. Eric and I sipped our cocktails, and I poured Tennyson a second margarita. We headed out onto my deck which overlooked the city, and I noticed how opposite it was to Tennyson's view of nothing but land.
“How’s Royal?” I asked.
"Good, he's using a straw now," Tennyson said, speaking only to me.
“Tennyson’s brother is a bullfighter,” I said to Eric, trying to keep him part of the conversation.
"Really? I've always wanted a cape," he responded. Tennyson looked away uncomfortably, and I explained Rodeo bullfighters to Eric. “So, tell me, Tennyson,” Eric asked with a big grin, “What does it feel like to have a vicious animal between your legs?”
Tennyson’s head turned slowly as his entire body tensed. He held tightly to his drink and glared at Eric. “Why don’t you tell me,” he said hatefully.
“Tennyson!” I yelled. I was appalled at how he was behaving.
“Oh, I see,” Eric said, staring at my man. “Because I sleep with men you figure my partners are just animals. You think we are just dogs in heat, jumping each other without feeling or emotions.”
Tenn remained calm and spoke with a chilling softness. “To be honest, Eric, I don’t think about it at all.” He looked away again, rudely ignoring my friend.
I felt tears building in my eyes. I was embarrassed and hurt by Tennyson’s conduct. Eric stood and leaned over to give me a quick kiss. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Chica.”
I jumped up and followed him to the door, “Eric, please just give him some time. You are the first gay man he’s ever had a conversation with.”
Eric looked at me with wet eyes and crossed his arms as he leaned on one hip. "It's just like talking to my father, Jules. But that isn't even the worst part, he's taking you away, and things will never be the same between us."
“I will never let that happen, do you understand? Never!”
"Sure, you will, and if I were the one in love with him, I would do the same thing," he said sadly and walked out the door.
I headed angrily back to the deck, and before I could even open my mouth, Tennyson apologized, "I know I can do better, but you gotta understand this is more than I thought I was capable of under the circumstances."
"He's just another person, he feels what you feel, and he deserves respect," I said, with tears running down my face.
He looked at the view, and I knew he felt claustrophobic or trapped. His world was constant, and mine was always changing with the fads. I could see the beauty of his world, but he couldn't see the appeal of mine.
“Why did you leave Oregon?” he asked me, and his question took me by surprise.
“It felt like it belonged to my father. It was his town, with his people, and his duty to watch over the school. I knew if I stayed I would remain a child and I wanted to feel…. I don’t know.”
“Free?”
"I wanted to feel like me. I wanted to know who I was and what I was capable of accomplishing. Does that sound stupid?"
"No, but the only place I know who I am is at home. I know where I came from and what's expected, and when I die, I will become part of the land and continue forever. I look out at all those lights, and I wonder if anyone down there knows what I know."
"When I'm on stage, and I look out at the audience under the bright lights, I think how lucky I am that I know more than what Oregon had to offer. There is a big world out there, and I want to be part of it."
We both continued to stare at the view; unwilling to look at each other because the things we wanted were opposite. I had an inner dialog that moved back and forth between asking him to leave and asking him to promise me forever. I knew he was waging his own internal battle and I began to sink into despair.
I finally turned to look at him and asked, “Are you sorry you came?”
He gave me a weak smile and reached over for my hand. “It’s all just…stuff. You can always work out stuff.”
“Promise,” I said in a whisper, needing him to lie to me.
"It's not my first rodeo," he whispered and pulled my hand to his mouth.
“I would like you to take me to bed,” I said, needing him so badly now.
"My pleasure," he said and stood to lead me back into the house and into the bedroom. He nudged the bed fra
me with his leg as if he expected it to swing wildly. When he saw it was stationary, he began removing my clothes, and I undressed him.
He lay on the bed stiffly as if he was afraid to move and I laughed at him. I straddled his hips and looked down at his gorgeous face. “You’re good, Tenn, but not good enough to snap the cables.”
He growled and quickly flipped me beneath him before he moved with abandon. It was during these times I wanted to believe in us the most. I only felt love when he held me. He gave his entire self to me and made me feel like I was the only person in his mind.
He was staring into my eyes and moving my hair off my face, and I could see a hint of sadness in his eyes. "What are you thinking, Tenn?"
“How much I love loving you,” he whispered.
I smiled and agreed, “I love how much you love loving me.”
He laughed and said, “And I love how much you love how much I love loving you.”
“You’re such an ass,” I teased.
His smile faded, and he stared directly at me. "I feel weak, and I've never felt that way before," he finally admitted.
“Do I make you feel weak?” I asked him with sorrow.
"I guess a better word would be alone, I feel alone. Royal is gone, and you will be gone soon, too."
“I’m not going anywhere,” I pointed out.
“Sure, you are, you’re going to take Broadway by storm and the whole world will be screaming for Jules Smith,” he smiled, but I knew it was forced.
"We need to work hard to keep us together; we need a plan."
“Marry me,” he said honestly.
I ran my finger along his chin and tried to smile, but my tears began to fall, giving away my heartbreak. "Tenn, I don't want to marry, ever. Can't it just be us for as long as we can make it?"
“You don’t plan on marrying me?” he asked with total surprise.
“I plan on loving you with all my heart,” I told him to calm his reaction.
“What about in five years? Would you marry me then?”
“I don’t need a marriage to commit to someone,” I tried to explain, but he moved away from me.
"Jules, I want you to be my wife. I want a ring on your finger and a story to tell our grandkids."
“You lived with Janie,” I pointed out.
“No, Janie came one day and never left, although I asked her many times. I never loved her or wanted to marry her.”
“Are you going to live here, Tenn? Or do you want me to come to Blue Lake and live behind the huge gates.”
“You have gates here,” he said angrily.
“You don’t understand my world yet, come to the premier and come see me on Broadway and then tell me if you still want to marry me, okay?”
He nodded and finally laid back down on the pillow. I could tell he was tense and I felt awful for taking away his dream before he left for Tucson. He was hurting right now, and I just added to the pain. I hugged him tightly and said, "I love you, Tennyson Weller. You're not alone."
He kissed my head and said, “My heart belongs to you, Jules Smith.”
The next day, I was sitting in a salon chair biting my nails in a sweat worrying about Tennyson’s fitting. Eric texted me and said he had picked Tennyson up, but no other messages came after that point.
George smacked my hand and called over one of his girls to work on my nails. I began bouncing my leg, and George finally called for a glass of wine. He handed it to me and said, "You're not up for an award or anything."
“I have other pressures, my boyfriend is in town and Hollywood scares him,” I said, and took a sip of wine.
“He isn’t an actor?” George asked in shock.
“No, he’s a cowboy,” I said with a roll of my own eyes.
“Those things really exist?” he laughed.
“Apparently there is an entire underground world full of them.”
“So, is he an urban cowboy?”
“No, he’s a born and bred, authentic, bull riding, rodeo champion cowboy.”
“I’ll need a picture to believe you,” he teased, and I laughed before telling him Tennyson would be coming there to pick me up. The entire salon was abuzz with anticipation.
The moment Tennyson walked through the door I could tell the fitting did not go well. Eric gave me a quick shake of his head, and I took a breath to brace myself. "That is not a happy face," I said to Tennyson.
“Jules, I can’t wear those clothes. I look like a beatnik,” he complained.
"He looked very fresh and hot," Eric interjected, and Tennyson closed his eyes to stay in control.
“Did something happen?” I asked Tennyson quietly.
“They kept commenting on my balls, Jules. It was emasculating.”
“They weren’t impressed?” I asked honestly. He looked away in frustration, and I laughed loudly. "Oh, they were very impressed," I said in understanding.
He crossed his arms and glared at me, “Why do you hate me so much?”
“I love you, Tenn. Why does the fact other men find you attractive bother you so much?”
George walked out to see the macho cowboy and looked him up and down before smiling widely.
"Ah, shit," Tennyson mumbled and looked away.
“Well, well, well, aren’t you all raging bull mixed with pretty,” George teased, and Tennyson’s hands pulled into fists.
"Leave him alone," I told George and rubbed Tennyson's back to calm him.
“Remove the hat, let me see the hair,” George instructed him, but Tennyson didn’t respond.
"Honey, let George trim it up, nothing radical," I said with pleading eyes. "You won't be able to wear the hat tonight."
Tennyson angrily removed his hat and George tisked several times as he pulled Tennyson into a chair. I never considered his hair needed styling, but now that I saw it around the other stylish men, he did look shaggy.
I watched as George worked his magic, keeping it long and wild, but thinning it out and styling it with gel. Tennyson looked handsome, and I worried about someone trying to steal him from me. Eric came to sit on the arm of my chair, and I asked him about the fitting.
“He’s got major homophobic issues. You can’t even mention his dick without him tucking it in and hiding.”
“He was raised to think you guys are a myth, imagine seeing a leprechaun for the first time,” I teased.
“Or, maybe thou doest protest too much,” Eric said with raised eyebrows.
“He’s not going to do you, Eric. Give it up,” I laughed, and he punched me in the arm.
"I saw his little video, and I thought maybe I would be the one doing him."
“She’s his cousin,” I announced, and Eric jumped up from the arm of the chair.
“I heard about them deliverance people with all their inbreeding,” he said in disgust, and I shook my head.
"She isn't blood-related, just a groupie hanging onto an elderly aunt."
Tennyson walked over to me with his head down as George went on and on about his thick hair. I took hold of his hand and blew him a kiss when he looked at me. He smiled… barely.
“You look so handsome,” I said gently.
“I have to get out of here, my balls are in my stomach,” he announced with desperate eyes.
“George, come take the hot rollers out and finish me,” I called over to him.
Tennyson walked into the waiting room and took a seat. He glanced at the various magazines and then took a deep breath and closed his eyes. I tried not to laugh, but I could picture Jerry and his buddies from the fight at the dance seeing Tennyson sitting here with gelled hair and a salon full of men drooling over him. He would so get beaten up.
When it was time to dress, I was anxious to get a look at Tenn. He wouldn't discuss his clothes all afternoon, and I wondered if he would put them on. He walked out wearing pants made from the same material as my dress, fitting all the way tightly to his feet, and a white tunic top with a collarless blazer.
He stood with his thu
mbs hanging from the front of the pants, leaning on one leg. He looked hot, but I could tell he thought he looked too feminine. "If it helps you can change the shirt," I offered, and he ran from the room.
He came back later with a white button-down western shirt, and I made him pull it out from the pants, so it could hang leisurely. He seemed to relax a bit, and the blazer covered most of the shirt, anyway. "What shoes are you wearing?" I asked him, and he let his head fall again.
“I have black boots,” he offered, and I crossed my arms, letting him know they were not an option.
“Jules, they’re girl shoes,” he complained.
“They gave you heels?” I questioned, knowing they didn’t.
“No, but they look….”
“Gay?” I asked angrily.
“Weird,” he offered to save himself.
“Let me see.”
He left the room, and I put on the finishing touches with my makeup before spraying perfume across my body. He returned and held out a pair of sculpted loafers without any heel and chopped bluntly across the front.
“Those will look great with the suit,” I assured him.
“They look like I chased a parked car,” he complained.
“Tenn,” I said in frustration, “with your face nobody will be looking at your shoes, so shut the hell up and get dressed.” His head dropped, and I knew there was another issue he wanted to address so I finally sighed loudly and said, "Now what?"
“I want to wear socks.”
“So, wear them.”
“They told me not to.”
“Be a rebel, Tenn. You show them by wearing socks, okay?”
“I’m not trying to ruin your night,” he said, as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
I knew what it felt like to be dressed in clothing you were not comfortable with and trying so hard to make sense of everything going on around you. I reached out and pulled him to me. “I know; you are doing very well. Don't worry about all of this; it is only pretending to create an illusion. Concentrate on the fact I will do whatever you want in bed tonight."
His head snapped up, and he smiled like a kid at Christmas. "I guess I don't need socks," he smiled. "You look beautiful."
“You are the only person I care to look beautiful for, so thank you.”
Jules and Bulls Page 12