by Nick Poff
Ed shook his head.
“They’re showing it Friday night at the college in Crestland. It’s part of a film series they’re doing. I’d love to see it again. Want to go with me?”
“Of course.”
“Good. I know you’ll love it, or at least I think you will. I thought, if you weren’t busy late in the day, I’d come over as soon as Claire gets home from work. We can grab something to eat on the way to Crestland and catch the first showing, since I have to work Saturday morning.”
“It’s a date. We’ve never been to the movies together before, so this should be fun. Why’s it your favorite movie?”
Rick grinned mysteriously. “Oh, you need to see it first, then I think you’ll understand.” He consulted the clipping. “I’m not really sure where Crestland College is, so can you drive?”
“Oh, sure. I know Crestland like the back of my hand. Uncle Chester and Aunt Eleanor live there.”
“Wanna stop by and see them?” Rick’s eyes twinkled.
Ed shuddered. “I’ll have to see them at Christmas. That’s soon enough. Oh,” he said apologetically, “they’re okay, but I’m still not in the mood to share you any more than I have to.”
The phone rang. Ed stood up, groaning. “If that’s the Hausers telling me something’s backed up, I’m gonna kill myself.” He walked to the living room and picked up the receiver. “Hello?”
“Ed? It’s your mother. Are you coming over tomorrow morning to help me move furniture? Those carpet cleaning people are due here at nine. I know they’ll be late. That type always is. But I want to be ready for them.”
Ed sighed. “Mom, I already told you earlier, when you called to tell me what an ungrateful daughter you have, that I would be there at eight. What could have changed since then?”
“I ran into Gwen Hauser at the store. She told me about that plumbing of hers. I could just see her calling you, talking you into going back over there in the morning and abandoning your mother. You wouldn’t believe the things she used to do when we were school room mothers together.” Norma took a breath and was obviously getting ready to recite Gwen Hauser’s sins, but Ed jumped in.
“Mom, I’m eating, and I’ve got company. I promise I’ll be over tomorrow, okay?”
“Company? Who on earth would you be having over for supper?”
“A friend. Rick Benton. I told you about him a couple of weeks ago.”
“You two certainly seem to be spending a lot of time together,” she said suspiciously.
Since that was true, Ed couldn’t think of a reply, so he tried to change the subject. “Hey, Mom, my spaghetti’s getting cold. Can I talk to you tomorrow?”
“Spaghetti? With canned sauce, I suppose,” she said with a sneer in her voice.
“No, Mom. I used your recipe. Everybody knows you make the best spaghetti sauce in Porterfield.” Ed hoped that would shut her up.
“Well, your father always thought so,” Norma said. “Now about this Rick character—”
“Can we talk about it tomorrow?” Ed interrupted. “I’d really like to finish eating. I absolutely promise to be there by eight.”
“Oh, all right,” she huffed. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Ed instinctively moved the phone away from his ear before Norma’s usual abrupt “good-bye” and phone slam. Ed, shaking his head, walked back to the table. Rick was watching him with a big smile on his face.
“Okay,” Ed said. “So what’s your mother like?”
Rick shrugged. “I think she may be a little, oh, quieter than your mom.” He chuckled. “Man, I can hardly wait until I meet Norma Stephens face-to-face.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Ed retorted. “You’ll probably jump in your car and head back to Indy.”
Rick sighed. “You know, baby, it’ll have to happen sooner or later. As you well know, I plan to be around here, with you, for a long time. If and when the day comes we start talking about living together, what are you going to do? Pass me off as your boarder?”
Ed poked at his spaghetti. “I know, I know. I’m probably worrying for nothing. I’m good at it, okay?”
“Yes, I know, and I understand why you’re upset about it. For the time being, though, there’s nothing wrong with two grown men being good friends. By the time she figures it out, I’ll have her so charmed she won’t care anymore.”
“I may think you’re the most charming man in the world, but you don’t know my mother.”
“Never underestimate my abilities,” Rick said smugly. “I’ll remind you of that when we get to dessert.”
* * * * *
A few hours later, Ed and Rick lay together in Ed’s bed, covers pulled up against the autumn chill. Ed, his eyes closed, was absently running his hand across Rick’s furry chest. Even after three weeks, the idea of having a man in his bed was amazing, and the fact that it was Rick made it all that much better. He felt Rick stir and shift positions. Ed opened his eyes and saw Rick looking at the alarm clock.
“I wish you could stay all night,” Ed said.
“Well, I can, but you know, Mister I-Set-My-Own-Schedule, that I’ll have to crawl out of here at five a.m. to be at work on time.”
Ed looked at him, mouth open in surprise. “You can? Really?”
Rick chuckled. “Gotcha, didn’t I? Yeah, I came prepared, and I told Claire not to expect me tonight. I know it’s only been a few days, but I’ve been missing my handyman pretty badly. You know I can’t make a habit of it, but I figure a weeknight here and there won’t hurt anything.”
“Well, I’m not worried about you getting up early,” Ed said, still surprised, but pleased. “I have to get up early to be at Mom’s anyway.”
“Okay. Maybe this will hold me until the weekend. I’m hoping I can stay over Saturday night, too.”
He reached over and began fumbling with Ed’s alarm clock. He glanced at a picture of Ed’s niece and nephew on the nightstand.
“Ed,” he said, clicking the alarm button into place. “I know Laurie’s all cool about us, and that’s great, but do you really think your mom is going to be a problem? You don’t think she already suspects?”
“What my mom thinks,” Ed said with a sigh, “is anybody’s guess.”
“Well, what was your dad like?” Rick shifted positions again so he could rub Ed’s back. “You haven’t really talked about him all that much.”
“Oh, that feels good. Dad? Oh, he was a nice guy. Everybody liked him. Pretty quiet, I guess.” Ed chuckled. “He about had to be, living with Mom.” Ed paused, remembering. “I think I had a good relationship with him. He’s been gone two years now, and I still miss him sometimes. I could never get into all the sports stuff he liked, but he was really good with his hands, and I loved hanging out in his basement workshop. Everybody says I get my talent for fixing things from him. We had a lot of fun together with that stuff.
“It’s funny. I always thought that when I got the nerve to tell my parents that I was gay, I thought I'd go to Dad first. I always felt maybe he’d understand, 'cause we always did seem to understand each other. Well, I think he would have been disappointed, but I think he would have been okay with it. He was always behind anything Laurie and I did, one hundred percent. I guess this is a little different, though.”
“Yeah, it is.” Rick kneaded the muscles in Ed’s back. “But if the look on your face when you talk about him is any indication, he really was a nice guy, and I think he would have supported you on this, and hopefully your mom will, too.”
“Mmm, if I was a cat, I’d be purring right now,” Ed said, thoroughly enjoying Rick’s back rub.
“Just an extra midweek delivery from the mailman to the handyman he loves.”
“Thanks, darlin’,” Ed murmured drowsily. “I know one thing. If my mom doesn’t like you, she’s got more screws loose than I think she does.”
* * * * *
Ed halfheartedly cleaned house Friday afternoon, stereo blasting away. He was dancing more than dusting, singing i
n his usual awful way, with Dusty Springfield’s “I Only Want to Be with You.” He wondered how many times over the years he had sang along with that record, wishing he had someone real to think about. He thought about stepping into Rick’s open arms. I didn’t stand a chance, all right.
He gave the record cabinet a swipe with his dustrag, then used it to jack the volume higher. He winced a bit at the distortion from the scratchy record, suspecting if he had known when he bought it in 1964 that Rick was on the horizon, the record would be completely worn out by now.
The phone rang, and Ed, throwing down his dustrag, ran to answer it. “Hello,” he said happily, assuming it was Rick.
“Ed? It’s your mother.”
Aw, crud, he thought. “Hi, Mom. What’s up?”
“The volume on that awful stereo. Turn that noise down. Didn’t I get enough of that when you were living here?”
“This is my house, Mom,” he shouted over Dusty. “I can listen to it as loud as I want.”
“Not while you’re on the phone with your mother, you can’t.”
Feeling abused, Ed slowly cranked the volume back. “Is that better?”
“It’ll do. Honestly! It’s a wonder you have any hearing left. Anyway, the IGA was having a good sale on pork chops, and I bought enough for an army. I want you to come over for dinner tonight.”
“Does it have to be tonight? I kinda have plans.”
“Plans! What sort of plans?”
“Well, Mom, it’s Friday. People often go out and have fun on Friday night.”
“Well, for Pete’s sake. Your social life is just growing all the time. And just who do you have these plans with?”
Ed sighed, feeling rather trapped. “I’m supposed to go to the movies with Rick and see Harold and Maude.”
“Harold and who? Who on earth are they? And why are you going to the movies with them?”
“No,” Ed said patiently. “That’s the name of the movie.”
“Well, I never heard of it.”
“It’s an old movie, from the early seventies. It’s Rick’s favorite, and he wants to see it again. They’re showing it at Crestland College.”
“Humph.” Norma was silent for a moment, a rare occurrence indeed. “Well, there’s plenty of food for three. You just bring him along with you, then you can do whatever you want. I’m beginning to think I need to get a look at this new friend of yours.”
“Oh, Mom,” he started.
“Edward, are you ashamed of your mother?”
Well, yes, he thought.
“If he’s such a good friend, there’s no reason why he can’t come over and enjoy a good, home-cooked meal. Why, I used to feed your high school buddies all the time. Even that fat Ted Gillis, and you know what a struggle it was filling him up. I couldn’t keep cookies in the house with him around. I always did wonder if they fed him at home. Whatever happened to him, anyway?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “You just pick up this Rick Benton character and be here at six. And if he wants anything other than water or coffee to drink, tell him to bring his own.”
“But, Mom—”
“Don’t ‘but Mom’ me! Just be here at six. Honestly, to even think of letting good food go to waste. Edward Stephens, I sometimes wonder how I even gave birth to you.”
Ed occasionally wondered the same thing. He could only imagine the hell she put Dr. Weisberg, their family doctor, and his delivery room staff through that night.
“Mom, they’re only showing the movie tonight. It’s part of a film series they’re doing. Rick’s been looking forward to it all week, and I’m not about to tell him he can’t go because my mother insists on feeding him pork chops.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake. Well then, come over tomorrow night. Those pork chops will keep. Dallas is on tonight anyway. There’s nothing on tomorrow night but that silly Love Boat and that awful island with the midget. Be here at six tomorrow night, then.”
“Okay,” he said, surrendering. He knew if he worked any harder to get out of it, he would never hear the end of it.
“All right. Say hello to Harold and Mona for me, and I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
“Harold and Maude, Mom.”
“Oh, whoever. Bring them for dinner, too. There’ll be plenty.” Norma laughed, enjoying her own joke.
“I’ll tell them when I see them.” Ed rolled his eyes at the phone.
Aw, yucky, shitty crud, he thought, hanging up the phone. How am I going to tell Rick that after a long week at work he has to give up our quiet Saturday night for dinner with my mother?
He turned the volume up on the stereo. “I Only Want to Be with You” had ended, and the record currently playing was the Zombies and “She’s Not There.”
“Geez, I wish I had that problem,” he grumbled. “Mom’s there all right. Boy, is she there.”
The back door opened, and Rick bounced in. “Hey, baby. Ready for some fun?”
“Ri-i-i-ick,” he began in a much higher than normal voice. A quick look at Rick’s smiling, bearded face brought another worry into his head. Unlike her son, Norma always claimed to distrust bearded men. “I sure hope you didn’t make any plans for us tomorrow night.”
* * * * *
“You know, at one time I used to break into pet shops to liberate the canaries,”Maude said to Harold on the movie screen, “but I decided that was an idea way before its time. Zoos are full, prisons are overflowing . . . ah, my, how the world still dearly loves a cage.”
Ed snickered in delight, completely fascinated with the movie unspooling before him.
“Enjoying it, baby?” Rick whispered.
“Oh, yes.”
Rick took Ed’s hand and squeezed it. Ed’s attention was diverted from the screen long enough to note that having his boyfriend hold his hand in a movie theater was a new and satisfying experience.
When the lights came up, Ed remained seated, embarrassingly wiping away a few tears.
“That’s one of the best movies I ever saw,” he said, watching the crowd file out of the theater.
Rick’s smile, “the warm and tender special,” as Ed had begun to think of it, shone on his face. “I’m glad. I was hoping you’d get it.”
“Oh, I don’t know if I got it.” Ed reached for his jacket. “I just know I can’t remember the last time I laughed that hard.”
“Cried a little, too, I see. I’m glad I’ve got me a man who isn’t afraid to cry at the movies.”
“Well, that ending. I mean, it’s sad and happy at the same time. I almost wish we could stay for the second showing. I used to do that when I was kid, going to the movies at the Strand in Porterfield. We’d hide in the bathroom, then sit through it again.”
“Much as I would like that, baby, I have to get home and get to bed,” Rick said regretfully, as they slowly followed the crowd into the lobby.
They paused outside the little college theater, zipping up their jackets against the cold November night.
“Did you get the lesson from the movie?” Rick asked.
“Darlin’, there were a lot of lessons in that movie. Which one do you mean?”
“Oh, the one that always hits me so hard, whenever I see it again,” Rick said, as they slowly made their way to Ed’s truck. “The one with the daisies.”
“You mean being your own self instead of being one of the crowd?”
“Yeah. I love that. I first saw this movie back when I was really struggling with the gay thing. I remember sitting there, in that movie theater, suddenly knowing that it didn’t matter if I was gay or purple or whatever, as long as I was true to myself and I didn’t try to be like everyone else.”
Ed paused by the truck, looking at Rick. “I know what you mean. I wish I’d seen this back then, too. I loved it, too, when they all freaked out about them being together. I want to remember that when someone gives us shit for being together.”
Rick sighed. “I really think that movie helped me survive. Remember that Isley Brothers song, ‘It’s Your Thi
ng’?”
“Sure.”
“Well, I remember thinking it was a great song but a big lie. Everybody back then was running around saying, ‘Do your own thing, man,’ but when you did something different than they did, they ridiculed you for it. That drove me crazy for years, but then when I saw Harold and Maude kinda flipping the bird to society in general, I decided if they could do it, so could I. I could be whatever I wanted to be. Hell, I even thought about buying a hearse.”
Ed laughed, unlocking the door. “I’ll bet a lot people thought about buying a hearse after seeing that movie. Will my uncool, beat-up pickup truck do the job for tonight?”
Rick hauled himself onto the seat. “It’ll do just fine, but don’t drive like Maude. I wanna get home in one piece.”
“Well, from something as great as that, to dinner at my mother’s,” Ed said in disgust, as he turned south onto Highway 107. “Talk about letdowns.”
“Oh, baby, don’t worry about it. I’m not. She just wants to see what kind of company you’re keeping these days. And besides, I love pork chops.”
“If you get to eat any,” Ed said, passing a badly rusting Pinto. “She’ll probably slam you with so many questions, you’ll never get one bite to your mouth.”
“Man, Ed, give it a rest already. I have excellent table manners, thanks to my mom, and despite the fact that I was a twerp in high school, I’ve learned how to hold a dignified conversation with other adults, even my boyfriend’s mother. I swear to God I won’t chew with my mouth open either.”
“‘I suppose you think that’s very funny, Harold,’” Ed said, quoting from the movie.
Rick snickered. “Well, yes, as a matter of fact. I do.”
“Well, hang on to that attitude, then,” Ed grumbled, signaling his way back into the right lane. “’Cause you’re gonna need it, darlin’.”
* * * * *
Ed moped around the house all day Saturday, feeling as though he were facing an execution. He knew his mother well enough to know that she was suspicious about his sudden friendship with Rick, and this dinner was her way of getting to the bottom of whatever was going on between them. He honestly didn’t know if she suspected the truth, but he was well aware of the fact that her badgering might force him to admit it. After that, he simply had no idea what she might say or do.