“Got a cigarette?” a man asked, standing next to him.
“I don’t smoke,” Aaron said. His voice was neutral, neither friendly or unfriendly. The man nodded, moved away.
Part 2
11.
I was in a cabin, the cabin of a plane, surrounded by people belted in their seats, sitting in dead, cold air far above the earth. I was on my way to Boston, three thousand miles across the country, going back for the first time since I’d arrived in California six years before.
And I so very much didn’t want to be there.
I’d driven myself to the airport, left the car in short-term parking. It would only be four days, I told myself. Today, which was Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday. I’d fly back on Sunday morning. The funeral was on Friday.
My father’s funeral.
I couldn’t get over the shock of it. The suddenness. Aaron and I had been talking on the couch last night, holding hands. I wasn’t sure why, but after a few days of avoiding each other I had felt closer to him as he told me about his therapy session on Saturday, and I’d told him a little bit about going to see Matt on the houseboat in Sausalito the day before and what had happened, that it was getting serious. Nothing had been decided, but there was this sort of looming clarity about it all. I’d even put off seeing Janine just because I didn’t want to muddy the waters. Life was getting far too complex and I wanted to focus on Aaron as much as possible while I was still there with him.
Aaron had said, “Of course you can stay here for another month, whatever you want,” because I’d asked him about paying February’s rent, had told him that I’d left a check on the kitchen table. It was my way of saying that I wasn’t going to bolt out, and when he responded so sweetly I couldn’t help putting my arms around him and we stayed like that, holding each other on the sofa, for quite a long time.
And then the phone rang. Neither of us wanted to get it.
I heard my mother’s voice, pained, shaking, more fragile than usual, speaking from the answering machine.
“Dave, it’s your mother. I’m sorry to tell you this on a machine, but your father died a few hours ago. He was taken to hospital this morning after he told me he was having chest pains and collapsed. It all happened so fast. I just got home from the hospital an hour ago. I’ve had to make a lot of arrangements. The funeral is on Friday.” She named our local parish church.
“I hope you can come home, Dave. I’m sorry I can’t contribute to the ticket. Please call me back when you can. I—I love you.”
She almost never said that.
I could feel Aaron gulping, disentangling himself from me. I looked at his face first. He was looking at me searchingly.
“I’ll help. I’ll help out with the ticket,” Aaron babbled, his face pale.
“No, you fucking won’t,” I answered. This wasn’t the time to take his charity, at the moment I was poised to leave him. Instead of shaking or weeping, I was furious—with myself, mostly.
“I have enough on my credit card,” I said. It wasn’t true; I would go over the limit, but I didn’t care: I had done that before. It was all bullshit anyway. It hit me what I was angry about: I had to go home for this. I knew it. I just had to. And I hated the idea.
“Dave. Come on.” Aaron’s hand was on my arm. “Let me help. I’m sorry I can’t go with you. You understand.”
“I would never ask you to go with me, Aaron,” I said. “Not when things are like this. That would be totally fucking unfair.”
“OK, but,” I could see Aaron’s thoughts swarming, “the rent check. Keep that. Keep that money, use it for the plane.”
I suddenly embraced him, pushing him back against the couch. He didn’t resist. We kissed desperately, something I’d thought we wouldn’t do again.
“You need to call your mother back,” he murmured. “It’s so late in Boston now.”
He was right. I paused, considering.
“If you want, you can stay with me tonight,” he whispered. “For a little while, or the whole night, whatever works.”
This was crazy, but it was the way my life always went. I would draw a nice thick line. The minute I drew it, the line would get blurred. It was like some kind of cosmic joke. Just when you think you know what you want...
“Are you sure?” I asked.
He nodded.
“I’d like to...”
He didn’t even say it. He didn’t have to.
“OK,” I told him, my tone softening. “I’ll call her back now. I’ll meet you upstairs.”
He looked happy for the first time in weeks. He slid off the couch to give me some privacy.
I went to the phone and dialed the number that hadn’t changed since I was a kid. Once Aaron was out of the room, with the door closed, I felt shaky. Dad was dead. Mom was suddenly a widow.
Now all our fathers are gone, I thought.
***
Matt, though... This was the part I liked to think about. It had been less than forty-eight hours ago, I pondered, that I’d made my way to a spot called Kappas Dock, helped by the map that Matt had drawn me. There was a big green meadow there, peaceful and empty, and that was where Matt and I met up. He’d bought sandwiches and drinks from the local cafe. Somehow the sun was out there, a weak early spring sun, but it helped. We sat down. The ground was miraculously dry. For the first time in a public place, Matt kissed me, and I felt like pulling him back on top of me on the grass right there. An inquisitive squirrel chattered nearby.
It was hard to speak. I didn’t have to, I thought, not really. He gestured to the little wooden walkway that led to the line of wooden houseboats. It was a pier, stretching out into the bay, but pretty, with flowers in planters lining the sides.
“I’ve never been here,” I said finally.
“But you made it,” Matt said, caressing my arm.
“Yeah,” I said.
“Are you hungry?”
I wasn’t. I was horny. I wanted to go to bed with him, right there and then.
“Come see the place,” Matt said. He got up and held out his hand for me. “It doesn’t seem like a boat inside, really. It’s pretty steady and homey.”
He wandered down the little walkway and I followed. The whole thing was beautiful and charming, very Marin-like, except that I knew that these artistic little houses cost hundreds of thousands of dollars. Everything always had a price tag.
“They’re called floating homes,” Matt said, showing me inside a wood-shingled structure, a ceramic owl stuck out in front.
“Floating homes,” I repeated.
I adored the place right away. I stood in silence and took it all in as Matt closed the door behind us.
“It’s amazing, Matt.”
It was cozy and quiet and perfect. Some round windows looked out at a distant headland, Tiburon maybe, with what looked like Mount Tam looming in the distance. The space was perfectly designed with the minimum of clutter. It was very clean. A small kitchen led into a living room space: obviously the bedroom was upstairs. I hoped.
“Woodsy,” I said.
“Folksy, yeah,” Matt said. He stood looking at me, then opened a can of Lagunitas Pale Ale and handed it to me. I took it.
“I know you probably don’t want to talk, but I think we should.”
I swallowed a few mouthfuls of beer. Matt tossed the bag of sandwiches on a table with a thunk.
“You’re right, I don’t want to,” I murmured.
“We still should,” Matt retorted with a smile. He sat down on what looked like a Zen cushion and I followed suit. Our knees touched.
“Is this comfortable for you?” I asked.
“I actually love this kind of thing.”
“Do you meditate?” I asked curiously.
He nodded.
Then he took my hand. I was less nervous than the other day. We stared into each other’s eyes.
“I want you to know...” Matt paused. “Well, there’s something I haven’t told you.”
I
nodded, trying to chill.
“You’re holding back something too, aren’t you.”
I shrugged, evading his gaze. “I guess.” I didn’t want to discuss Aaron’s reaction with him. It still hurt, Aaron’s cool suggestion to ask Matt what he wanted. He’ll know what to do then. Yes, but I wasn’t ready to tell him yet, to say the words.
“All right.” Matt gave a sigh. “My confession, which makes me feel super-lame, to be honest with you, is that I’m currently unemployed.”
I stared at him, eyes widening. “What?”
“Yeah. For the first time since I graduated in 2004, I’m not working.”
No wonder he’d seemed subdued the last time.
He gave a little shrug. “It’s been tough. It happened in December, close to Christmas. It was a mass layoff at the firm, but that’s no consolation. I guess my relationship with Taylor and then what happened with you had me a bit distracted, way less invested in work. I had a new boss all last year who didn’t like me as much as the old one did. They notice those things.”
I nodded, feeling his warm breath on my face. His hands tightened on mine.
“I hated the job, Dave. It wasn’t me. I hated making rich people wealthier. That was all it was, really, when you take off the frills. And my co-workers were jerks, most of them. One or two of them even called Taylor up for a date when they heard she was available.”
“You must have had the Christmas from hell,” I mused.
“I did.” He let go my hands to take a swallow of his beer. The house rocked gently.
“This is nice, isn’t it?” he asked.
The closeness was nice, but frustrating. I tried to push down the rising tide of desire in me, the desperate need I was starting to feel, the need to get his body on top of me, to get fucked. I knew how Aaron had felt all along now, with me. I just hoped that Matt’s mellowness was deceptive, that he wanted the same thing but was holding off intentionally for some strange reason. Was it possible he didn’t trust me?
“OK, so now you know.” Matt’s eyes searched mine. “Does it make a difference?”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” I whispered. My throat was raw. “No.”
“It did to Taylor.” I could see the stress in his face. “That was the deciding factor for her in leaving me. Since we were both unemployed... she just didn’t trust me to bounce back from it. See, Dave, I want to do it differently now. I want to start up a company, be an entrepreneur. I have savings. And I have some ideas, even a potential investor or two. Something to do with organic food, but I haven’t zeroed in on the product yet.”
“That’s great,” I murmured, lulled by the beer, Matt’s eyes on my face, the gentle motion of the boat. It wasn’t completely steady, but it was sheltered from the elements.
“And you.” Matt’s tone was gentle. “You must have had a difficult time of it with Aaron.”
“Yeah, sure,” I muttered. “He’s pulled away from me.” I began to have a sick feeling in my gut. “He told me it was over, pretty much. And he can’t stand me going back and forth between you and him, he said. He wants me to decide.”
I had lowered my eyes because it seemed shameful. Matt reached out and tilted my chin up.
“What do you want?”
The question, as always, silenced me. But as I looked in his beautiful hazel eyes, I saw love and acceptance there, mixed with a little bit of concern. No distrust.
I licked my lips. “I don’t know.”
Now I saw uncertainty in his gaze. “Do you want to move forward with me?”
As if I could go back, I felt like saying. Did he really think I could?
“I don’t want to talk about the future right now,” I said in a rush. And that was true. “Could we go upstairs?”
“Upstairs?” Matt asked playfully.
“Well, wherever the bed is,” I blurted out.
He suddenly burst out laughing, getting up and holding me against him, but lightly. “How do you know there is a bed?” he enquired.
“I just figured,” I said, deadpan. “Since you promised me a fuck.”
“I promised we’d make love,” Matt said, his tone amused but his eyes intense. “And yes, there is a bed. Come see.”
He turned and made his way up a set of loft stairs. Turned out there was a little room up there with just a large bed, a nightstand, and windows, narrow windows that looked out over the bay. I could see birds flying above as I looked out.
“I like to watch pelicans from here,” Matt said, “later in the year, when they come.”
“You’ve spent a lot of time here?” I asked.
“Oh, now and then.” He moved onto the bed, discarding his shoes. I followed suit, lying back against a clean white pillow.
I was completely silent as he removed his shirt, looking at his tanned chest, his dark nipples, his pecs and abs standing out far more than mine did. His body looked so healthy, so perfect, untouched by anything bad. Maybe in Marin it was normal, I thought. Everyone’s in peak shape here.
“Want me to pull the drapes?” Matt asked. “It’s naturally bright in here, and it never gets totally dark.”
“It doesn’t bother me,” I said with a shrug.
He pulled the drapes anyway, clad only in boxer briefs. I stared at his back, his tight ass. I’d made no move to get undressed; I wasn’t sure why.
We had been naked the other night. This seemed far less innocent. I felt the full weight of what I was about to do.
“We should have eaten, but I’m somehow too nervous,” he said, to break the silence.
“You’ve nothing to be nervous about,” I told him. He lowered himself down beside me.
“You don’t either,” he whispered.
My clothes came off slowly under his hands.
“You’ve had sex here—on his bed?” I asked jerkily, moaning slightly as his fingers grazed my nipples.
“Yeah. Brad, the guy who owns the boat, or leases it, actually, I used to have a thing with him a few years back. It wasn’t a big deal. He’s in New York now, being a model.”
Still moving with deliberate slowness, Matt opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out a bottle of lube and some condoms. I watched him open a packet.
“You don’t mind, do you?” he asked.
“What, about the male model? No, I’m glad you had a good sex life before Taylor.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” Matt was smiling down on me now. “I don’t think it’s ever been particularly good, not since Boston.”
His mouth descended on mine, finally, and slowly he began to grind against me, but when our bodies met I felt embarrassed by my own arousal, my need, which was in stark contrast to his slow, methodical movements.
“Matt, please, I’m going to come,” I groaned into his neck as he stroked my aching cock.
“That’s OK,” he whispered.
I came, gasping and splattering against him. That was undignified, I thought.
His eyes were smiling. “You’re beautiful. I thought I should get you off first.”
I lay looking up at him. “What do you want to hear?” I murmured. “Is there something you need me to say?”
He paused. “Maybe there is,” he said finally. “It’s just, I’ve waited for this moment for so long.”
“God, so have I.”
“And I don’t want to blow it.”
“How could you?” I asked. “Matt, I want to be here. With you.”
“Today you do,” he said. He caressed me gently. “Did you listen to the Cohen song?”
I nodded. “Of course. I get it. That’s partly why I’m here.”
He waited, as if there was something more.
“I never stopped loving you,” he said finally. “It took courage for you to come meet me at the hotel. And I know you thought I just wanted sex. It was a lot more than that, actually. But I couldn’t tell you. I thought somehow it would tide me over, seeing you. You know? Get me through. I’m not sure what. My marriage? In the end I suppose
it shortened my marriage.”
“That’s a pity,” I said.
“Is it? I don’t think the marriage ever had a chance. But I do take relationships seriously, Dave. I mean, even with Taylor, I grieved when I realized we were done for. And I didn’t contact you until I was absolutely sure. But I wanted to. God, I really wanted to, and I hated holding back.”
I nodded.
“Things are fucked up for you with Aaron, partly because of us, and I hate the thought that you might feel you have no choice now but to be with me. When you might not really want to...”
There was a question in his voice. I wasn’t sure what to say, so I pulled him down onto me.
***
There was no clock by the bedside. The sex seemed to last for hours, Matt moving inside me with slow, deep thrusts, the sensations overwhelming any kind of rational thought. I buried my face in his shoulder. We were so close together, closer than I had ever been to anyone in my life, it seemed. In comparison, the sex at the hotel months before was like something two other people had done. We were not strangers now. I was amazed at his control, how he could go on and on. Underneath him, I sweated and groaned, calling out his name. For long moments I must have blacked out, closing my eyes, but then he would remind me to open them, and I did.
***
Back in the plane, I pulled a thin blanket onto my lap, shifting uncomfortably. The two hefty older businessmen sitting on either side of me took no notice. Both were staring at their iPads, looking at stock prices probably.
***
We ate downstairs and then we made love again. This time I slid down on top of Matt’s lubed cock while he lay below me, looking up. This time I completely lost control because Matt’s thrusts were more savage, more intense. And this time I told him I loved him, unprompted, as I shuddered in ecstasy.
“Blissed out,” Matt had said with a smile as we lay together after. It wasn’t a question.
“Mmm,” I’d said. “Boneless.”
He’d chuckled. “That was quite a boner you had earlier.”
The Pull of Yesterday Page 10