“Here, take a pair of mine.” He tossed a pair into my open arms.
“But then I have to wash and return them,” I said.
“That’s cool. I’m kind of looking forward to having you back.” He smiled.
He was perfect. Nothing could go wrong. Right?
15
HIGH TEA
The next few days were a rush of conflicting emotions. I thought of him constantly, but could hear Kit in the back of my mind telling me to calm down and take it easy. “Ignore him a little,” she counseled. But it was hard. Well, everything was hard, literally, every time I thought of him. I was able to avoid a few awkward moments in school by hiding behind my desk or stepping into the teachers’ restroom for some privacy, but it’s like my body had a mind of its own. I was a teenager again, and even in the same school. These are the times that I wish I were a smoker, so I would have an excuse to go out and “get some fresh air.”
Seeing him in the hallways was even more difficult. He’d smile with his eyes down, but just enough so that I could see it. Overall, we still acted like strangers, “frenemies,” even. And I had to accept that, for now. But for how long?
From my own experience, I knew that coming out was a process, and if I, in any way, tried to influence his decisions or push him too hard, there was a greater chance that he would fall right back into that locker room closet, and not into my open arms in front of our friends and families. I needed him to feel comfortable with his choices, and he had to be the one to decide when, and who to tell.
In the mean time, I was satisfied with the occasional text message and the furtive glance. It had only been a few days since our dinner, but I was already thinking of when and how to see him again. We hadn’t made any plans, but I was hoping for the weekend. It’s so hard to be the pursuer when you know the one you are pursuing needs you to be patient.
I went for a run by the lake after work. I didn’t tell Luke I was going, but I sent many a silent prayer to the heavens that he would magically show up and we could recreate our first kiss. I’m such a hopeless romantic. And an idiot. Of course he wasn’t there, but I ran an extra lap just in case he showed up. By the time I got home I was a mess, my mind going in a million different directions, talking myself in and out of love countless times.
I pulled into the driveway just as Uncle Barry was walking out. He had his faux Louis Vuitton duffle bag slung over his shoulder. I bought it for him in Chinatown years ago, and it looked so worn in now that it almost seemed authentic.
“Hello, Dolly. Why the long face?” he asked.
“Ah, blah. You know. This and that, school,” I said.
“And men?” he said. “Or shall we say, one particular man?”
I glowered at him and nodded. Like Mom, I believe that Uncle Barry had a few magical powers of his own. He always knew things. That and the fact that I carry my heart on my sleeve. Everyone says my face is an obvious roadmap of my emotions.
“Listen, I have to run,” he said. “I’m rehearsing a new number. But you, nephew, are coming by to see me tonight. Just come by the stage door again. I’ll tell Scotty to expect you in about an hour. Now go shower and get a move on. It’s high time you and I sat down for High Tea.” He gave me a quick peck on the cheek and he was off.
High Tea? I love how my Uncle Barry was suddenly my gay Uncle Barry, like the fairy godmother from Fire Island Pines I always wanted and needed. I walked inside and took a shower, the whole time thinking of Luke and our situation. Maybe a chat with Barry would help, after all?
I parked in the lot at the Bears’ Club and walked around back to the same red lacquered door I had entered when I first discovered Barry was Beret. Scotty was standing at the exit and he waved me in with a hushed shhhh finger over his lips. Walking over to the stage curtain, I could hear Adele’s “Turning Tables” coming from the sound system. Beret was on stage and the house was empty, but she was giving it her all, mournfully lip syncing the words to a lost lover.
A tear fell from her eye as she finished the song, and my heart fell. I know Aunt Janey had been in love with Miss Mabel, the school secretary, but had Barry ever loved… and lost? Could I ever understand the battles, internal and real, that Barry’s generation had fought so that men like me could fall in love with a high school football coach?
“Bravo!” I clapped and broke the silence. Beret turned to look and me, a demure smile spreading across her face.
“Oh, you,” she said from the stage, and wiped away a tear. “You have to clap. You’re family.” She walked towards me, with purpose. “Scotty? I’m feeling a Pimm’s Cup right about now. Can you bring a pitcher down to my dressing room? Thanks, Dolly.”
“Sure thing, Beret” said Scotty, as he obediently dropped his clipboard on the table and headed to the bar. I followed my uncle downstairs to her private room and she sat once again in front of her mirrored vanity.
“Ok, Derek,” she said, looking at me squarely. “Let’s go. What’s his name, and do I have to break any legs?”
“No, not at all,” I said, smiling. I liked how she was protecting me. “It’s nothing like that. It’s going pretty well, actually. It’s just that, well, he’s closeted, and I don’t know if that’s something I want. I really like him, though. I think I may even love him. I mean, it’s early, but I can feel that tug on my heart. I miss him when he’s not there, and I think about him constantly. But I want to hold his hand, you know? I want to kiss him in a bar. I want everyone to know that he’s mine, that we are a ‘we,’ that he’s… he’s gay.”
Beret sighed, just as Scotty opened the door to deliver our cocktails. “Thanks, Scotty. A little family talk here. Take a break and I’ll be up as soon as I can.”
“Sure thing, Beret,” said Scotty. “Take your time. You are the star, after all.”
“And don’t forget it, bitch.” Beret laughed as Scotty closed the door after himself, then returned to her “serious” face.
“Now, back to you, my sweet nephew. Here’s what I have to say, and you may not like it.”
I braced myself for the deluge. Uncle Barry was never one to hold back, and I expected Beret to be the same, with simply a different, glittery surface coat painted on.
“Here’s what I think,” she started. “I think you deserve all the happiness in the world. I love you, kid, and you know that. But you have to decide what level of happiness is acceptable for you. In my generation, we didn’t have so many choices. You could remain in denial of your sexuality and fight against it, at all odds. You could lead a dual life, as your Aunt Janey and I did, which meant an existence of elaborate lies and cover-ups. The closeted life to which you refer. Or you could be an out and proud nelly queen, but those ladies didn’t make it very far in this town. That meant moving on to a bigger, more accepting city, or ending up beaten on the streets somewhere, dripping in blood as you stumbled home in the dark. I’ve seen it all, honey, believe me. You kids nowadays don’t understand how good you have it. You are so special. You have so many choices, so many options. There are gay role models on the television, there are out actors and singers, authors and athletes. You can be anything and anyone your heart desires. You have access to so much. Too much, maybe. So, for me, in my situation, I made a choice to remain closeted, and just be out to my closest friends, and the members of the Bears’ Club, of course. There was someone, once. But it didn’t work out. I felt it more than he did. He and I had to make a choice, and we chose our families, instead of each other. But that’s my situation. I am not you, and you are not this man you have feelings for. All of our journeys, all of our details and reasons, all of our expectations of life are different. You have to make the best choice for you, my love, and if he comes along for the ride, then he’ll be the luckiest guy I know. Because you deserve pure, real love, my boy. That much I know.”
I didn’t know what to say or how to respond. I knew she was right, and as the tears welled up in my eyes, she reached over and gave me a tight hug, patting me on the back.
>
“Now stop it. No more tears,” she said. “This mascara isn’t waterproof.”
I laughed over her shoulder as the teardrops fell from my eyes. “Thank you, Barry. Beret. I love you so much. Now let go of me. Your fake tits are freaking me out.”
“What?! These cost me a fortune,” she shrieked. “Here, feel.”
We laughed together and settled back into our seats.
“So, I hope that helped. Now, are you going to tell me? Who is this young man who has stolen your heart?” she asked.
“I promised I wouldn’t say anything,” I responded. “Kit pretty much guessed, and Bammy can’t be too far behind her, so I guess it doesn’t matter much, anymore. Not to you, at least.” I paused as my heart pounded. “It’s Luke Walcott. The football coach at the high school.”
Beret grew silent, pursed her lips and looked at me.
“What?” I said. “Do you know him?”
“Oh no, dear. Not personally,” she said. “I’ve seen him though. Very handsome. Very handsome, indeed.”
She raised an eyebrow and her glass and took another sip.
16
TOMMY TIME
On Sunday afternoon I gave Tommy a call.
“Hey,” I said, as he answered the phone. “You up for lunch? How about sushi? I need some Tommy Time.”
“Yeah man, sounds good,” he said. “Swing by my place and we can walk to Saul’s, downtown. Meredith is just headed out to meet her mom. Like, thirty, forty minutes?”
“Perfect,” I said. “See you, soon,” and I hung up. I couldn’t really talk to Bammy, and I’d already been counseled with Kit’s plan of action, but the truth of the matter was, I just needed some drama free time with my best guy friend. And, more importantly, I didn’t want to talk about me. David sucked all the oxygen out of my life sometimes, but now I felt like I was becoming too much the center of attention, and I could really use a calm day where I could fade into the background a bit.
Tommy lived downtown in a renovated loft apartment. I parked Willie out front and went up to his place, letting myself in after a quick knock on the door. From the looks of the living room, it seemed like Meredith had pretty much moved in. I was happy for him. Tommy deserved only the best, and we all liked her a lot.
“Hey, man. How’s it going?” he asked. He was sitting on the couch putting on his shoes. The cat was stretching languidly at his feet, and the coffee table was covered in leftovers from the night before: popcorn, peanut butter pretzels and two bourbon tumblers with the glassy sheen of melted ice.
“All good. Movie night?” I asked, looking down at the empty glasses.
“Yeah, we took it easy last night,” he said. “Netflix. Meredith is having some kind of family brunch today, so she didn’t want to show up with too big of a hangover.”
“You didn’t want to go?” I asked.
“Yeah, well, it’s kinda early for family stuff,” he said. “Besides, if I meet her family, then she’ll want to meet mine, and I’m trying to avoid that as long as possible. The Pruitts aren’t exactly the winners of the ‘All American Family’ award.”
We both smiled. “Understood,” I said.
“Saul’s?” he asked.
I nodded. “Let’s go!”
Saul’s Sushi was another fine example of the local tradition of wearing our quirkiness with pride. Saul and his wife Rachel owned the only authentic Jewish deli in town, but as the downtown business district slowly died, his customers moved farther and farther west. As a result, Saul saw his business take a sharp downward trend. A Russian Jew, Saul and his family had arrived in Brooklyn in the early 1940s. He married Rachel and moved to the South to avoid the cold winters, while his relatives relocated west to Los Angeles, seeking year round sun and dreams of the movie business. One summer in the mid 80s when Saul and Rachel were considering shuttering the deli due to too many struggling years, they paid a visit to see their family in Los Angeles, and they were amazed to find teenagers at the local shopping malls eating sushi. Raw fish! Saul’s Jewish Deli wasn’t doing so well, so he bet the bank on a conversion he truly believed in, and Saul’s Sushi was born. The interior was still Brighton Beach, but the menu was Jewish Japanese.
“How y’all doing today?” the hostess asked. “Two for brunch?”
We nodded and she sat us at a two top along the sidewall. “Can I get y’all some drinks before you order?” she asked.
“Yes, please,” I said. “I’ll have one of those Japanese beers.”
“Make that two,” Tommy added, nodding.
“I’ll be right out with those,” she said. “Here’s a look at today’s specials.”
We took a look at the menu and when she came back we ordered an assortment of Saul’s specialties; matzah ball egg drop soup, lox rolls and the potato pancake maki.
“Let’s get some sake?” I asked. “If we’re gonna day drink, we may as well do it right. Excuse me?” I flagged down the waitress. “Can we get a bottle of that unfiltered sake? The one that tastes like green apple. Thanks.” I could never remember the name.
“So,” Tommy started. “What’s up? Wanna tell me about this mystery guy you’re seeing?”
“Not just yet,” I said. “Can we just talk about you? I feel a bit like Hurricane Derek right now. All the news, all the time, 24/7.”
“Well, what do you expect, man?” he said. “You’re kind of like that, sometimes. Kit and Bammy love being a part of The Derek Show.” He took a sip of his beer.
“Yeah, I know,” I said. “I’m kind of a big deal.”
We laughed and clicked our bottles together. “Tell me about Meredith,” I said.
“Man, she’s awesome.” Tommy smiled, and I could see that it was genuine. He had dated his fair share of crazies. I guess we all had. But it seemed that Tommy had finally found a girl who could balance her crazy between a bit of wild fun and a calm side.
“She’s just cool,” he said. “I feel comfortable with her, and I don’t feel like I have to try extra hard to make her smile or make her happy. I don’t have to think about it. We just kinda fit together well. There’s no drama, no lies, no games. She just tells it like it is, and I appreciate that.”
“I’m so happy for you, man,” I said. “You really deserve it.”
“Yeah, well you do too, you know.” He looked at me with a half smile and said “I know the shit you’ve gone through, too, Derek. I love ya man and I just want you to be happy.”
“I’m good,” I said. “He’s a lot different from David, that’s for sure. But it’s not as easy as you and Meredith.”
“How so?” he asked.
“He’s closeted, obviously,” I said. “I’m just trying to get used to toning The Derek Show down a few notches, you know? I think I can do it. I’m just too much of a rooster, sometimes. I want to crow, and I don’t want to feel like there’s a collar around my neck.”
“Yeah, I can’t see you doing that forever, but I guess you just have to play it out and see what happens,” he said. “I guess it depends on what you want out of life. What’s ‘good,’ and what’s ‘good enough,’ and how long can you wait for it to get better?”
“I thought we weren’t going to talk about me?” I smirked.
“Oops. My bad,” he said, but I knew he meant well. In that moment I felt extra sorry for straight guys who couldn’t imagine having a gay guy as a best friend. They were missing out.
We devoured our sushi and spent the rest of the lunch talking about movies and music. It’s so good to spend time with a friend who just accepts you for who you are, with no judgment. We’d known each other forever, and that wasn’t going to change.
After our second bottle of sake, we stumbled back to his place. I crawled into the comfy chair and he stretched out on the couch.
“What do you wanna do?” he asked.
“Netflix?” I said. “I think I need some Always Sunny in Philadelphia. Charlie is a freak.”
“You got it.” He turned the TV on and we let the
remainder of the day slide by, with barely another word spoken.
17
A BUMP IN THE ROAD
“Swing by around 8 o’clock tonight?” said Luke, his hand resting on the doorframe of my classroom, once again. I was pretty sure that that was as physically close as he would ever get to me while we were on the school grounds.
“Yeah, sure,” I said, smiling up at him. I decided to be brave. “I was thinking, maybe we could hit up a movie tonight?”
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” he said.
“Luke, it’s just a movie. No one can infer anything from us going to a movie together.”
“Let’s talk about that later, all right?” He was clearly frustrated with me, and I could see it. “See you at 8,” and he walked down the hall.
We were spending more and more time together outside of school, and I was spending a few nights a week at his place, now. Mom was trying to ask questions without being too nosy, and Barry, I hoped, was keeping a lid on her sleuthing. Bammy was even worse. I knew she knew, and she hated feeling left out, but I had promised Luke I wouldn’t include her, and so far I was keeping my promise. Tommy was just happy I was getting laid.
Me? I was deliriously happy, like a love-struck teenager. Even I knew it was obvious. But Luke and I had our own little trouble brewing, and we were each holding something back from one another. You’re always careful at the beginning of a relationship to make sure you are aware of your partner’s feelings. You don’t want to push and you don’t want to appear as crazy as you really are, but all of the tiptoeing leads to an eventual breakdown in communication. At some point you have to say what you really think and feel, otherwise there’s no use in continuing.
It was clear to me that Luke and I needed to talk. As Tommy pointed out, I wasn’t sure I was okay with just “good enough.” I was frustrated that my boyfriend was afraid to be seen with me in public, and I could tell he wasn’t ready to come out. I wasn’t sure how much more patient I could be, though. We basically only saw each other at his house, and when we were at school he avoided me or treated me with this crazy macho persona that was standoffish, at best. I made a plan, and decided to see if I could pull it off tonight.
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