Gathered Up

by Annabeth Albert

  The restaurant that Kendall had picked, Pho Oregon, was popular with a section of the hipster crowd despite the unassuming outside. I’d been there before with Jake. I ordered what I’d had before—the beef soup and some spring rolls, which were like baby egg rolls with a too-sweet sauce.

  “Want to come over and practice tomorrow?” Kendall asked while we waited for the food.

  My chest loosened a bit. At least he still wanted to dance. That was something.

  “Yeah.” I tried not to look pathetically grateful and was saved by the arrival of the food.

  “Bring some clothes and I can run you to work before I have coffee with Freya on Saturday.”

  “That I can do.” I couldn’t hold the grin in.

  “There’s that smile. See, I told you soup would help.” Kendall grinned at me.

  I wasn’t telling him that it was the prospect of sleeping all night next to him that had me happier, not the food. One more sign that we had to talk. I was falling for him, exactly the sort of risk I’d sworn to avoid, and I couldn’t stand the way he made my emotions swing like the pendulum of Gran’s old clock.

  Pho is a challenge to eat, so we were quiet for a bit, which suited me and my uneven mood just fine. We were finishing up and about to pay when in walked Jake and some other guys I knew from meetings.

  “Todd!” Jake was tall, taller than me by several inches, and he practically hauled me up out of my seat with a big meaty handshake. He was wearing a T-shirt advertising the local AIDS fundraising run that he helped coordinate each year. He didn’t spare Kendall more than half a glance. Typical Jake. “How’s it going, man?”

  “Jake. Long time no see.” Didn’t point out that I’d taken to purposely going to meetings at times when I knew he usually didn’t attend.

  “Too long, man. Listen, I’m having a get-together at my place tomorrow. You should come by—gonna grill.”

  “I’ve got plans. With Kendall.” I gestured toward him since Jake seemed so intent on not noticing him.

  “Kendall, huh?” Jake offered Kendall what looked like a bone-crushing handshake. “You two…”

  “We’re just friends,” Kendall said quickly, and rip, there went my heart, right into two pieces.

  “Don’t keep your friends waiting on our account,” I said to Jake, voice stiffer than Gran’s ironing board. “We need to get going.”

  I stayed quiet while we each paid our share, then slunk out to Kendall’s car. I was half tempted to walk, but I just didn’t have the diva-fit in me. Besides, I wasn’t airing my dirty laundry where Jake could see out the windows.

  “So that was your ex?” Kendall said as he put the car in gear.

  I made a noncommittal sound in response.

  “What is your problem? You’ve been in a mood all week. Is everything okay?”

  “Why do you care?” The bitten-off question snapped out before I could recall it.

  “Because we’re fr—”

  “Friends. Yeah, I got that memo, thanks.”

  “You don’t want to be friends?”

  I shrugged and made a frustrated noise. God, I didn’t want to be having this conversation. No, no, I did not want to be Kendall’s friend, and why the hell couldn’t he see that? Friends was too damn dangerous for me, and if he didn’t feel the same way I did, then I had to get out now.

  Chapter 11

  Kendall

  Something was dreadfully wrong with Todd and I wasn’t sure what. And he wasn’t exactly talking either.

  “Are you mad that I told your ex that we’re friends?” I was at a red light and glanced over at Todd in time to see him nod almost imperceptibly.

  In truth, I’d seen Todd’s ex and known immediately that all Todd and I could ever be was friends. Nothing more. Jake was Todd’s real type, tall and broad shouldered with ham-sized hands, and a macho voice and presentation. He was a clear alpha dog. And he was HIV positive—something Todd had said more than once was important to him. He hadn’t planned on ever dating negative guys, and that was just more reason why Todd and I couldn’t work out.

  Now, maybe Jake wasn’t the exact guy Todd needed, as he also seemed like a major dick, but eventually he’d go back to that type of guy. Lewis had run so fast back to the gym-and-muscle-shirt crowd that I was surprised he hadn’t sprained something. This was why I’d pulled back all week—I knew deep down that I couldn’t be what Todd needed in a relationship.

  So instead of reassuring Todd or laying claim to a status that could only be very temporary, I doubled down on the self-preservation. “I kind of figured you wouldn’t want me to advertise that we’re sleeping together.”

  “’Course not. Wouldn’t have expected more from a guy like you,” Todd said softly when I pulled up near his grandmother’s house.

  “Exactly,” I said, my throat feeling raw and itchy. Guy like you. “We make good friends with benefits, right? No sense in making this out to be more than it is.”

  “I can’t do this.” Todd’s voice sounded strained, like he was trying to hold back a river, same as me. I reached for his hand but he shook me off. “I’m not fancy like you, and I don’t fit in your fancy world, and I can’t let this gut me. I won’t.” Todd’s fists were clenched tight. “So no, I can’t be your friend, sorry.”

  With that, he was out of the car, sprinting up the walk.

  I could have gone after him, but I knew deep in my heart I was doing the right thing to let him go. So instead I sat there for a long time, sinuses burning, hands shaking, head swimming. I heard the slam of a door from within the house. His pained words had made it clear that he thought somehow that he wasn’t good enough for me when in fact the opposite was true. I ached to reassure him. My hand inched toward my phone before I pulled it back. He didn’t want to be hurt, and that was all I could really offer either of us. It was better that we end things now.

  * * * *

  In a bit of awful timing, I had a wedding consultation with the circus-wedding couple the next morning. Bailey, the bride, and I were scheduled to tour a few venues, then brainstorm over lunch. No time to mope, I had to be Kendall, the happily-ever-after guru. God, I hated life sometimes. I couldn’t really make myself care about much more than coffee though, pulling my hair up into a half-assed bun, and wearing a pair of gray dress pants and a white shirt only because showing up in sweats was not an option.

  Bailey showed up at the Portland Art Museum with two of her friends in tow.

  I pulled their folder out of my bag. “I scheduled us here first, because I really think this is going to be the best choice for the type of pageantry you want,” I said to Bailey. “Now, who have you brought with you to help you pick?”

  “These are my girlfriends, Gina and Louise.” Bailey made the intros. “But I’m sad. I told them all about you and what a character you are, and you go showing up all…plain.” She fake pouted in that way that twenty-two-year-old sorority girls have perfected.

  I blinked. This was hardly the first time I’d been called a character, but I hadn’t slept much at all the night before, tossing and turning and missing Todd, and I was simply…weary. Guilt for that hurt look on Todd’s face dogged my every step. So very weary. “You wanted a dress?” I raised an eyebrow. An unplucked eyebrow. I hadn’t exactly been in a landscaping mood—hadn’t shaved either, and I almost never skipped that.

  The girls all tittered. Yeah, they’d wanted a dress. “We just want a super fun wedding experience,” Bailey explained.

  “You’ll have a great day.” I had to work hard to sound even halfway sincere.

  “I was totally picturing you in a sparkly costume for the circus. You know, something short, gay, and fabulous.” Bailey ended with a hand flourish that made her friends all laugh and my stomach cramp. I was not equipped to handle this today.

  “I’m a wedding planner. Not an entertainer.” I kept my voice leve
l but firm.

  “Awww.” Bailey’s friend made a face.

  “Is it extra to get you in drag?” Bailey tapped around on her phone. “I’d kinda assumed that was part of the package—”

  “I’m not a drag queen. It’s not costume with me. I wear what I want to wear and what makes me feel good about myself that particular day.” My chest ached, remembering how easily Todd had understood that distinction. “And my…boyfriend broke up with me last night and clothes were the last thing on my mind this morning. I can’t guarantee what I’ll wear to your wedding, and if you need that, maybe I’m not the planner for you.”

  Felt weird calling Todd my boyfriend when I’d been so against defining us that way, but there was no denying I had a post-breakup hangover happening.

  “Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry.” One of the friends patted my arm. “He broke up with you? Why?”

  “We weren’t going to work out.” I shrugged, trying to make myself believe it.

  “Well, I’m not sure we will either.” Bailey had the glassy-eyed bridezilla look I knew only too well. She had a vision for her wedding, and it involved a fun, happy gay caricature, and she wasn’t going to be denied that.

  “I don’t know any wedding planners who do drag themselves, but I can get you the number of some drag acts, if that’s the direction you want to go.” I finally let every ounce of weariness into my voice.

  “Yes! A drag revue as part of the circus. If you can arrange that, you can stay.”

  I needed this job and its big fee and its potential referrals badly. But I just couldn’t take another few months of being a prop. Not today. “No,” I said. “I’ll get you a list of other possibilities for your planner. But first, would you like me to stay long enough to introduce you to the museum people?”

  I was dying a little inside, forcing that amount of professionalism out, and my whole body shook with relief when Bailey tossed her head. “Don’t bother.”

  I walked away from the museum, not sure where I was headed, just that I needed to get away from everything. Todd had never once looked at me like Bailey and her friends did—like I was an oddity, something that belonged in an exhibit, not a person with real thoughts and feelings. I meandered through the park blocks, passing families and other pedestrians out enjoying the mild spring weather.

  Had I made a huge mistake? My phone beeped in my pocket. Todd. Please let this be a sign from the universe.

  But it wasn’t. It was Micky from dance class, who was also my newest client.

  Can you PLEASE tell Danny that zie can wear a wedding dress if that’s what zie wants?

  I typed back quickly. Of course zie can. I know just the vendors to take you both to. No worries. We’ll get you both looking fabulous.

  Inside, however, I crumbled a bit more. Danny and Micky were such a great couple, and they loved each other exactly as they were. This was the sort of wedding I loved doing, but today, for the first time, I had deep pangs of Why not me?

  Across the path from me, a toddler was standing on another bench while his mother took a photo. After she snapped the picture, she held out her arms and the toddler jumped into them, absolutely fearless.

  Leap. That was what I had to do, or else I’d be here ten years from now, still secretly pining over romances like Micky and Danny’s. Still letting my hurt over Lewis keep me from real happiness. I wanted a sign from the universe, but the universe wasn’t going to just hand me my happy ending, if such a thing existed. Lewis and my few other lovers hadn’t been worth leaping over—they wanted too much of me or not enough, but what if Todd was different?

  You know he is. That’s what scares you. If he was worth the fall, maybe it was time to sprout wings.

  Chapter 12

  Todd

  Kendall was waiting for me when I got done with work. Don’t know why, but I’d been kind of expecting that. Not that it meant I wanted to see him or that my heart did a little dance. Nope. None of that. Just that I’d been figuring he couldn’t just leave things be.

  He was standing by his car when I came out the back of the bakery. I shook my head at him and kept on walking, heading to the bus stop.

  “Wait.” He chased after me. He looked like hell, frankly. Hair all twisted up on his head and plain face and clothes. Pained me to see him looking like I felt. “Could we talk?”

  “Free country.” I shrugged but kept walking. “I’ve got a bus to catch.”

  “Could I give you a ride home? I really want to talk to you. Apologize—”

  “Nope.” I stopped and swiveled to face him. “You don’t got to do that.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “See, I did a lot of thinking last night. And the way I figure it, I might not be the best catch, but I’m worth something. I have to be. I can’t go back to feelin’ like trash and not worthy all the time. Too much risk to my recovery. I deserve someone who’s not ashamed to be with me.”

  Almost made me want to vomit, spewing all that out, but I’d lain there half the night, torn between anger and craving a fix, and longing and more anger. Finally anger won because I was not going to let this be the thing that undid the last two years of sobriety for me. Maybe Kendall didn’t want to claim me, but someone would. I was worth that. The last few weeks had shown me that I had more to give than I’d thought.

  “I’m not.” Kendall grabbed my arms. “I’m not. I thought…I thought it was the other way around. You needing something…more in a relationship. Something I couldn’t give you.”

  I blinked. Hadn’t occurred to me that maybe he was just as twisted up as me. “Why would I think that?”

  “I’m not like Jake. At all.”

  “And that’s a good thing. He might be good-looking, but he’s a judgmental, controlling bully at times. I didn’t want any part of that when we were hookin’ up, and I don’t want it now.”

  “It’s the good-looking part that threw me. I’m not…I’m not your usual type, am I?” Kendall’s voice was soft and small, and I’d want to hold him if I wasn’t still so ticked at him.

  “Nah. But you’re like pesto.”

  “Pesto?” Now Kendall was the one to blink.

  “Yup. Never even thought I’d like the stuff before you. Walked right by it in the grocery store a hundred times. But then you fixed it for me, and lately, I crave the stuff. I want to try it all sorts of ways.”

  “See, that’s what I’m worried about.” Kendall’s grip on my arm was still tense. My explanation didn’t seem to have worked. “I don’t want to be a novelty for you. Flavor of the week.”

  “You’re not. It’s more like…you’re what I didn’t know I was missing. What I need. Like dancing back in my life and pesto and salad and you. But”—and this next part near killed me to say, but I forced the words out—“I don’t want to play games. Either you trust me that this is real, or you can’t and we move on. I can’t be believin’ enough for both of us.”

  I just wasn’t that strong to carry this thing if he wasn’t going to be able to trust me.

  “I don’t want to play games,” Kendall said, but his eyes were still all shifty. “It’s just…you’re so perfect—”

  I snorted because we both knew I wasn’t all that.

  “Perfect for me,” he insisted. “You let me lead. You eat my cooking. You make me feel…needed. I think I got scared that anything this good can’t last.”

  “It won’t if you go shoving us in boxes, tryin’ to not get hurt.” I still had my dander up over how he’d friend-zoned me in front of Jake.

  “Fair enough.” Kendall’s grip relaxed into something closer to a caress. “I’m sorry that I hurt you. I can’t promise that I won’t be a dick again in some other way or screw this up, but I won’t deny us. I want this. Want you.”

  I nodded, very aware that we were on the street and I wanted to be done talking. “Yes.”

  �
��Yes?”

  “Yes, you can give me a ride.” I turned and headed back toward his car.

  “Wait. What?” Kendall struggled to catch up. “Is that a yes, we can try again?”

  “That’s a yes, you can give me a ride to your place. One step at a time. I’m still workin’ out how I feel.”

  All I knew was that I was now even more confused than I’d been all day, something I hadn’t thought possible, and I needed to touch Kendall in the worst way.

  * * * *

  I knew that going back to Kendall’s meant we were going to fuck. There was too much tension between us not to, and what I couldn’t say with words, I needed to say with lips and hands and bodies. I kissed him the second his door closed, pushing him back against the door. Usually, I left the leading up to him, but I wasn’t feeling particularly like following right then.

  Grrrr. Kendall’s dog had his own ideas, worming his way between us, growling.

  “Fast walk?” Kendall pulled away from my mouth.

  “Lightning,” I ordered, grabbing the leash from the hook next to the door and tossing it to Kendall.

  The last few times we’d walked the dog, I’d felt like such a couple, talking and holding hands, and sharing secret smiles, but this time things were still weird between us and the distance between us wasn’t something that linked hands could cure. Kendall hurried the dog along, and we were quiet on the elevator back up to his condo.

  “Now where were we?” Kendall linked his arms around my neck, pulled me close. It was pretty clear that he wasn’t as conflicted as me, and that made me angrier. How come he got to hurt me last night and come back around all apologizing today? No, fuck that noise. I kissed him aggressively, lips firm and hands grasping.

  “You make me crazy,” I whispered against his mouth as I pulled him toward the bedroom. “Don’t know which way is up.”

  “Does it help if I say that I feel the same way?” Once we were in the bedroom, Kendall worked the buttons on my flannel shirt.