by Alexa Land
A bark of laughter slipped from Duke, and Max just stared at me. My parents put a heaping serving dish of stew and a huge green salad on the table, and I went inside for the basket of wholegrain rolls and the salad dressing. When I returned to the deck, Duke asked me where he should sit. I pulled out a chair for him facing the view and said, “Right next to me.”
The stew was surprisingly good, and my dad seemed pleased when Duke and I went back for seconds. We kept the conversation light and talked about the local art scene, which my mom was passionate about. Duke followed the conversation closely but remained quiet for the most part. At one point, I turned to my parents and said, “I meant to tell you we got this amazing artist to paint the backdrops for our show. His name is Christian, but he paints under the name Zane. Have you heard of him?”
My mom looked impressed. “Of course! He runs that fantastic community art center in San Francisco, and his graffiti art has gained quite a following. Some people were calling him the next Banksy, but then he stopped painting a couple of years ago. I heard he’d been ill. It’s quite something that he’s doing this for your dance troupe.”
“Christian is best friends with Dare’s husband,” I said. “That’s how we got him to agree to it.”
“I hope you’re advertising the fact that he’s involved in the production,” my mom said.
“I think so. I mean, Dare’s handling the PR and advertising for the show, but I’m sure he’s putting the word out.”
My dad patted his mouth with his napkin, then said, “I read in the paper that San Francisco Ballet is looking to fill a couple of positions. Auditions are invitation-only, and since they offered you a spot last year, I’m sure they’d let you try out again.”
I put my fork down and sighed. “Really, Dad? Are we going to have this conversation for the thousandth time?”
He said, “It’s just such a fantastic opportunity, Quinn! I can accept the fact that you weren’t ready last year. You’d just finished your training and moved back to the west coast, and you needed to settle in. But the timing is right for you to try again, and you can’t let this pass you by! It’s everything you’ve worked for, all your life.”
“I already have a job that pays the bills, and I’m lead dancer with a fantastic troupe. I know it isn’t as prestigious as the San Francisco Ballet, but we’re about to stage our first performance, and there’s no limit to where we could go from there!”
“I know that,” my father said, “and I wish those boys the best of luck with getting their company off the ground. But the fact is, no matter how successful they become, they’ll never rival a world-renowned, highly prestigious company like the San Francisco Ballet.”
My voice rose, despite myself. “Why does that matter, Dad? Who cares if Dare’s troupe never becomes world-famous? What possible difference does it make? I’m proud to be a part of it, and I believe in what we’re doing. Our show is going to be important and innovative, not just because all our dancers are gay. I know that’s been done before. Wait until you hear the original score Dare commissioned for our show, it’ll blow you away! And we’re incorporating art with Zane’s backdrops, and all the dancers and the choreographers are working so hard to do something spectacular here!”
“All of that is fantastic,” my father said. “I applaud the troupe for taking risks and pushing boundaries. But you’ve already given them a year of your life, and after this performance, I think it’s time to set your sights higher.”
“Did you ever stop to think that maybe you and I have very different definitions of what it means to be successful, Dad? I don’t need a prestigious ballet company to validate what I’m doing!”
“I understand that,” he said. “I really do. But at the same time, you’re a world-class dancer with an astonishing gift, and you deserve so much better than performing for a few dozen people in a run-down theater in the Tenderloin that used to feature adult entertainment!”
I lowered my voice and held my father’s gaze. “I told you the name of the theater, but not its history. Did you seriously go and research it?”
“I was curious.”
I sighed and said, “Great. So now you have another way to discredit what I’m doing. But so what if it used to show dirty movies, or whatever? It’s just a pretty, art deco theater from the 1920s, and the new owners are trying to start over.”
“When have I ever discredited what you’re doing?”
“Uh, by saying I work as a stripper, when I’ve told you a million times that I’m a go-go boy? Every time you say I’m a stripper, it demeans and cheapens it.”
My father looked contrite. “I apologize for that, and I meant it when I said I’d come down to the club and see it for myself. When’s your next shift?”
“Tuesday, from eight to midnight. You really don’t have to come to the club, though.”
“It’ll be fun,” my father said. “Let’s meet for an early dinner in the Castro on Tuesday, then go to your club and have a drink before you start working.”
“Fine. Are you coming too, Mom?”
“I wish I could,” she said, “but I’m teaching an oil painting class every night next week at the senior center.”
Max raised his hand and asked, “Can I come?”
“Why? You’ve been to the club plenty of times.”
He smiled and said, “Yeah, but never with my grandpa. I think it’ll be a blast.”
“Fine. You two can carpool in together,” I said. “This is probably going to be totally awkward, but on the plus side, we’ll end up with a ton of free drinks.”
Duke had been watching the conversation closely while packing away four or five rolls, and he asked, “Why will you get free drinks?”
“Because everyone’s going to think Dad is George Takei.”
Max and Duke chuckled at that, and my mom grinned as she pushed back from the table. “I’m going to make some coffee to go with dessert,” she said. “I bought some nice, ripe berries at the farmer’s market, along with a lovely pound cake. I figure we can splurge a little after that healthy dinner. The stew was delicious, by the way.” She kissed her husband’s forehead before heading to the kitchen. I got up too and picked up my plate, and Duke followed my lead.
Once inside, I put my dishes in the sink and said, “Let me do that, Mom,” as she reached for the coffee pot. “Go sit down. Duke and I will put the desserts together too and bring them out to you.”
“Alright, sweetie.”
I told her, “I’m sorry about all of that. You must get sick of Dad and me arguing all the time.”
“He just wants what’s best for you. We both do,” she said.
“I know, Mom. We just don’t seem to agree on what that is.” She kissed my cheek and patted it before returning to the deck.
Duke leaned against the counter as I got the coffee going. Once it started to brew, I turned to him and said, “I’m sorry you got caught in the middle of my family drama. That must have been so awkward for you.”
He grinned and said, “Actually, that was the most civilized domestic dispute I’ve ever seen.”
That made me grin, too. “In the context of your job, I guess it would seem pretty tame.”
He studied me closely and said, “Feel free to tell me if this is none of my business, but did you turn down that job with the San Francisco Ballet because you think you don’t deserve it, like what you were saying earlier about deserving a nice home and family?”
I looked up at him and said quietly, “I turned them down because I’m not good enough, Duke.”
“The ballet company seems to disagree, since they offered you a position.”
“My parents do, too. They just don’t get it.”
“What don’t they get?”
“That I’m a total fuck-up. Sure, I’m a good dancer. Great, even. I’ve trained hard for almost twenty years, and my technique is pretty damn close to perfect. But I know for a fact that sooner or later, I’m going to make a mistake while performing.
I’ll lose concentration. My mind will wander, or I’ll get distracted by something, and I’ll mess up. That’s just an absolute given. If I do that as a dancer for a major ballet company, I’m gone. No two ways about it. If I do that while performing with Dare’s troupe, I’ll feel absolutely terrible and the guys will be pissed, but they’re not going to fire me for it. They care about me as a person, and they’ll give me another chance. Also, the fact that I feel secure with this troupe takes some of the pressure off, which in turn makes it less likely that I’ll mess up.”
“Have you tried telling your parents what you just told me?”
“No. They’ll just say I’m underestimating myself, but I’m really not. I know my limitations, including the fact that I’ve always had a hard time concentrating. I can probably force myself to stay focused for a single performance. But to do that day after day after day? It’s just a matter of time until I lose my concentration, and when I do, I want to be with a company that gives second chances, not one that’ll kick me out on my ass. Plus, think of the big picture. Who would hire me after a major ballet company canned me for fucking up onstage? Here’s the chain of events I’m trying to avoid: take the job, make a mistake, get fired, end my career.”
Duke said, “It makes sense. Although, just to play devil’s advocate, what if you really are underestimating yourself?”
I crossed the room to the refrigerator and said, “I’m not. Will you help me by assembling a tray for the coffee while I put together the dessert? The mugs are in the cupboard to the right of the sink.”
“You’re changing the subject.”
I met his gaze over my shoulder. “Yup.”
After a beat, Duke said, “Alright,” and went to get the coffee cups.
*****
We lingered over coffee and dessert with my family, and after Duke and I loaded the dishwasher and cleaned up the kitchen, I asked him, “Are you up for a little walk?”
“Always.”
I dried my hands on a dishtowel and stuck my head out the open sliding door. My parents and Max were relaxing in one of the comfortable seating areas out on the deck, and I said, “We’ll be back soon. I want to show Duke my sky fortress.”
My mom called, “Have fun,” as we headed for the front door.
Once outside, we crossed the street and started to climb. The land was undeveloped and fairly overgrown, but I knew the trail well, and the full moon lit our way. We soon reached a huge boulder, and I led Duke around to the back of it and scaled it easily. He followed without question or complaint, and when we reached the top, he murmured, “Oh wow.”
The view from my parents’ home was spectacular, but this one was even better, because it included the house itself. It looked beautiful and warm and welcoming, all lit up below us. Beyond it, the lights of Oakland and San Francisco framed the inky black bay.
We sat down side-by-side on top of the boulder, and as a light breeze stirred our hair, Duke leaned against me and said, “Thank you for an extraordinary day.”
“Thanks for being a good sport and going along with all of it.”
He was quiet for a while before saying, “There’s something I want to ask you.”
I turned to study his face in the moonlight. He looked nervous. I said softly, “You can ask me anything, Duke.”
He took a deep breath and met my gaze. Then he said, “Will you please go out with me? Before you say no, let me just say this. I know I must seem boring to someone like you, but I’m asking you to take a chance on me. Let me show you there’s more to me than what you’ve seen so far.” He broke eye contact. “And yes, I know I shouldn’t be asking you this because we’re roommates, and it’ll probably make things awkward between us. But I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t try.”
His eyes met mine again when I said, “Of course I’ll go out with you, Duke.”
He seemed surprised, and he touched my face and murmured, “Holy crap, you said yes.” I smiled at him, and after a moment, he leaned in and brushed his lips to mine.
The kiss was pure, and unhurried, and innocent. It made no demands and carried no expectations. It was different from every other kiss that had come before it. All the rest had been nothing more than preludes to sex, delivered by men interested only in what they could get from me. But not this one. It gave instead of taking.
I slid closer to him, and he wrapped me up in his arms and his warmth. Duke’s lips were as soft and gentle as his touch. He was careful with me, as if I was something precious, something he wanted to protect. We kissed for a long time, and then I curled up against him and whispered, “I didn’t see that coming.”
“That’s probably a good thing. I’d hoped I wasn’t too obvious about the fact that I was attracted to you. I’d intended to keep it under wraps, but in the end, I only lasted a week before breaking down and asking you out.”
I sat up a bit and looked at him. “You mean you felt this way for a while?”
He studied his shoes as he said, “Remember when I said I had my reasons for wanting you to move in with me?”
“Oh!”
He risked a glance at me and said, “It’s creepy to admit I wanted to be your roommate because I was attracted to you, isn’t it? I probably just ruined everything.”
I grinned and returned my head to his chest. “You worry too much.”
“I know.”
“I could never figure out why you’d let someone like me move into your home. It makes sense now.”
“It wasn’t just because I was attracted to you,” he said, “though that was part of it. I also thought you’d be fun to be around, and I was right.”
“You’re fun too, Duke.”
“That’s literally the first time anyone’s ever said that.”
“Then most people don’t know you very well.”
“Nobody does. I usually keep people at arm’s length, but I don’t want to do that with you.” He gently touched my cheek as he said, “I have to be honest here: I have no idea what I’m doing. My few attempts at dating before this were total disasters. And the fact that we’re roommates is a major complication. You’ll probably want to move out after this falls apart, which is a huge hassle. It wasn’t fair of me to ask you out and put you through all of that. In fact—”
I pulled him down to my height and kissed him again, and he grinned against my lips. Then I asked, “Who says it’s going to fall apart?”
“Like I said, it always does. You’ve already gotten a sneak preview as my roommate, and you know how uptight I can be. You know who wants that in a boyfriend? Nobody.”
“You’re not all that uptight.” He shot me a look, and I said, “Okay, sometimes. But here’s a newsflash, Duke: I like you.”
“You do?”
“Why do you think I agreed to go out with you?”
“I figured it was probably a pity date. I’m fine with that, by the way. Feel free to pity date the hell out of me.”
I chuckled and ran my hand over his short, surprisingly soft hair. “Kind, gentle, beautiful, sexy men who bake cookies don’t need pity dates.”
“I don’t know who you’re describing, but it reminds me that I owe you cookies when we get home, since you turned out to have mad ping pong skills.”
I smiled and said, “I wasn’t going to let you forget.”
He traced my lower lip with a fingertip and gazed at my mouth longingly for a moment, but then he shook himself out of his reverie and said, “We should probably head back. It’s getting late.”
We climbed off the boulder, and as we made our way back down the hill, I asked, “So, when do you want to go out?”
“My next day off is Wednesday. Are you working that night?”
“Nope.”
“Okay, good. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
I grinned and asked, “Are you planning to go outside and knock on your own door?”
“Possibly. We can still do this properly, even though we live together.”
“A proper date? I d
on’t know if I’ve ever had one of those.” I’d had plenty of improper ones, but I didn’t feel the need to say that out loud.
My parents and Max were still out on the deck when we got back to the house. Their gaze went right to Duke’s and my joined hands, and then my parents grinned from ear to ear. Subtle.
“Thank you for inviting me into your beautiful home. Dinner was wonderful,” Duke said. He turned to my father and added, “I’d love a copy of that stew recipe when you get the chance, sir.” Wow. He was every parent’s wet dream.
My dad promised to email it to me so I could forward it on, and Max blurted, “Did I miss something? Are you two a couple? I thought you were just roommates.”
“Duke just asked me out. We have a date on Wednesday. Dad, I’ll see you Tuesday for our super awkward outing, and Max, I’ll see you tomorrow. Mom, good luck with your senior art class. I hope they all paint truly spectacular technicolor lady parts.” Dad and Max chuckled while my mom grinned and shook her head.
*****
Everything felt vastly different between Duke and me as we drove back to San Francisco. It was as if a deck of cards had been shuffled, and we’d been dealt a whole new hand. Over the course of a week, we’d gone from strangers to friends, and all of a sudden, there was the possibility of so much more. I watched his profile as he drove, and whenever he glanced at me, the sweetest smile played around his full lips.
When we got home, he went to change while I lined up everything we needed for sugar cookies on the kitchen island, including the edible glitter. Duke was barefoot and dressed in a gray T-shirt and shorts when he joined me, much more casual than usual. I took that as a sign that he was loosening up around me, at least a little.
He put on his glasses and went to work mixing the ingredients while I sat on the counter and chatted about nothing in particular. Once again, the dough came together quickly, and after he put it in the refrigerator to chill for an hour, he asked, “Do you want to watch TV or a movie while we wait?”