by BA Tortuga
“Give him some air, guys! Please.” Josh headed over, motioning to Danny to occupy all these assholes elsewhere.
“Cypress?” A huge mountain of a Zuni man came crashing through the door, and for a second, Josh thought maybe he’d just lost it. Like totally lost what little sense he had left.
“Josh?” Kris asked.
“Kris?” That was Danny.
“I swear to God, the first person that says ‘Dr. Scott’ is going to get such a talking-to.” Josh looked up—and up and up—at the newcomer. “Hey, Lonan. Didn’t expect you. I probably need to call 911 now.”
Goddamn, this Zen thing was totally getting easier.
Lonan made a caveman noise and whisked Cy out of Kris’s arms, then lumbered off to the back room. Man needed to work on verbalizing, he really did.
Everyone just stared for a second, and then Josh stood, smiled as big as he could, said “Ta-da!” and bowed with a flourish.
Polite laughter coursed through the crowd, and the chatter started up again. Kris gave Josh a wild-eyed glance. “Tag. I’ll handle the crowd with Danny for a few. You see what the hell’s going on. Who was that?”
“Cy’s ex. Lonan. Big guy. Tall. Impressive, huh?” Josh thought maybe he was developing a tic.
“Huh.” Kris made an extraordinary face, like something from a cartoon, all bulgy eyes. “Go. I’ll sell shit.”
“I know, right. I’m fairly certain a second orgasm yesterday would have made this make more sense, but there you go.” He headed to the back before Kris could respond, because honestly, after a zinger like that, you had to just leave the room. It was a law.
Lonan had Cypress stretched out on the couch in the office, fanning him with a sheaf of paper clearly pulled from the printer.
“How is he? Will water help? Ice cubes? We have jalapenos with bacon….” Okay, the last one was too much. “Or crab puffs?”
“Ice water,” Lonan said, and Josh could see why he rarely spoke. He sounded like a giant troll from some movie franchise crunching boulders like ice cubes.
“You got it.” He fetched the ice water, hoping to hell Cy was awake, because otherwise, giant scary Zuni or not, he was calling an ambulance.
Cy looked almost transparent, but his eyes were open and staring at Lonan like he’d seen a ghost. “Lo? What are you doing here? You said you weren’t coming.”
“I had to.”
“Here’s the water. Cy, you okay? You sorta lost your shit a little there.” If by a little he meant in a totally massive at-least-you-didn’t-shit-yourself sort of way.
“Sorry.” Cy ducked his head, dreads deflated now instead of standing on end. Hair as a mood ring. Nice.
“Hey, totally your prerogative. I was just worried. Have a drink. You want a Coke? Some sugar? There’s cake.”
“Cake would be good,” Lonan said, using a noun and a verb and everything. “He probably hasn’t eaten.”
“Low blood sugar sucks. I’ll be back.” Josh stopped at the door. “No 911?”
“Ella. No. He’ll be fine. Little chaya’a. Always so drama.”
He’d thought Cypress’s accent was fascinating. Lonan’s defied description.
Cypress flipped Lonan off, then buried his face in one huge shoulder.
“I got you,” Lonan murmured. “I had this feeling.”
Even Josh knew what a big deal that was, for Lonan to come because of a feeling, so he headed out and made a beeline for the cake. He cut a huge chunk, only to be waylaid by Kris. “How’s he doing?”
“Awake. They want cake. The artist appearance part of this whole shindig is totally over.”
“Right. Well, I got this.” Kris put an arm around him for a quick hug. Flashbulbs went off.
“Sorry, man.” He knew that was the last thing Kris needed right now.
“Hey, at least they’re not trying to get poor Cy.” Kris nodded. “Go on, baby.”
“Yeah. I’ll be back.” Christ on a pink sparkly aluminum crutch. Josh carried the cake back to Cy and Lonan, along with two plastic forks and a bottle of water. Lonan had Cy on his lap, rocking the man back and forth, gentle as can be.
“I brought y’all cake.”
“Thank you.” Lonan poked Cy’s butt. “Eat.”
“You’re welcome, man. Do you have somewhere to stay in town? I can get you a hotel room.”
“I can pay you back.” Lonan grinned a little, which changed his whole face. “I have no idea where is not scary.”
“I’m on it. I’ll have Danny deal with it and get you set up.” Somewhere lush and quiet, a little luxury where maybe Cypress could relax.
He left them in the office, knowing Kris would need a rescue soon.
“Hey, guys.” He schmoozed with a couple of older men who fancied themselves collectors, selling them three pieces of pottery and a painting. Fucking A. “Danny, can you please write these gentlemen up and then arrange a nice quiet king-size hotel room for the artist and his guest?”
“You got it, boss.”
He found Kris with Marie, who gave him a sunny grin. “Hell of a story, Josh.”
“Indeed.” He wasn’t sure which story she was fixin’ to tell, but he could imagine the horseshit she was gonna use. “Never let it be said I don’t go out with a bang.”
“That’s it. I’m tickled. He’ll sell like hotcakes on the resale market here for a year.”
“I know.” Josh had known too. “He’s special.”
The crowd was thinning out quickly, the gossipmongers not interested and the art buyers having worked quick. That was good. There were a lot of details to iron out.
Like Lonan and Cy not losing it. Like figuring out what to do next. Like not just licking Kris all over.
“You okay?” Kris asked him, hand on his arm.
“How many answers does that question have?” He wanted to call Zack, to scream—which would have been déclassé, because Cy’d already driven that train.
“A lot.” Kris gave him a grin, one that said “I get it,” and “Good job” all at the same time.
“Yeah. Yeah, exactly. Danny, did you get Lonan a room?”
“I so totally did. The nice one at the Arboretum. What now?”
“Any of Cy’s pieces left?”
“Two. One pot, one painting. They’re the ones he did here.” Danny shrugged slightly.
“He hates it here.” And it showed. All the life was gone from the work. “Lonan will take him home, I bet.”
“Totally.” Danny patted his upper arm. “Should I mark those other pieces down?”
“Let Janey have them. She’ll sell them in a few days, and we can just close shop, focus on getting the pieces packed up for the buyers. Did we guess pretty close on the food and wine?”
“Food, yes. Wine, I’ll try to sell the unopened cases to Janey too.” Danny winked. “I’ll total the receipts.”
“Sounds like a plan. Let me get Cy settled, and I’ll… do the next thing I need to.” Whatever the fuck that was.
“I’m here to help. Do you need me to drive Cypress and his, uh, his friend anywhere?”
He looked at Kris. “I have no idea. Let me find out.”
It felt weird to knock first, but it seemed right. “Guys?”
No one answered, though, and when Josh opened the door, Cypress, Lonan, and the cake were gone. Damn.
“Uh…. Whoa.” He stood there a second, just in utter shock. “Huh.”
Kris appeared at his elbow. “Weird. They left out the back, huh?”
“I guess so. They took the cake. Cy’s stuff is at my place, so I’ll see him again before he goes. He doesn’t know where the hotel room is. That could be an issue.” Yep. A Zen master. Like kung-fu theater grade.
“I texted him.” Danny sighed. “He was crying hysterically when they left. I didn’t want to say anything.”
“Oh man. Poor guy. I… I thought he could do it, I swear.” Damn it. He was Cy’s friend. This was supposed to be a good thing, right?
“Hey.” Kr
is nudged him with one knee. “Stop it. He wanted to come down. We all asked him if he could make it, and he said yes. He’ll go home and reset.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I hope so. What else do I need to do tonight?”
Danny waved him away from across the counter. “My boyfriend, Cam, is coming in to help crate up the sales. I’ve got your deposit here, and you can write Cy’s check tomorrow. Go rest.”
“Yeah. Okay, thanks, man.” He looked back at Kris, not sure what to do next. “You heading home, cowboy?”
“I am. I got some leftover Rudy’s.” Kris looked… oddly hopeful.
His stomach rumbled, clenching suddenly. “Yeah?”
They both headed out the door together. Food was a good idea. And food where there was no one who might recognize them was an even better idea.
“You want to meet me there? I have root beer.”
“I do. Thank you.”
For the second time in a week Josh found himself in his car, heading to Steiner Ranch. This time, he was too worn out to be jittery and too hungry to hesitate. He was also pretty sure he wouldn’t be jacking Kris’s cock on the sofa. That was done. This was food and talking about what came next, if anything. Maybe like old friends.
Could you go from ex-lovers to old friends in thirty hours?
He pulled into the big circular drive, the property landscaped to within an inch of its life. He grimaced. This place had none of Kris’s soul. It was like a banner of suburban perfection. That was why the For Sale sign outside didn’t surprise him at all. Kris moved fast.
“Come on, baby. The brisket will just take a minute to heat up.”
He followed Kris in the door, through the front room, and into the kitchen with the big old island. “What can I do?”
“Sit and rest. You look exhausted.”
“It’s over.” There were a couple of details, but Two Spirits was closed for good.
“It is.” Kris met his eyes for a moment, that gleaming green gaze unreadable. “It was a hell of a way to go out. You sold all but two pieces.”
“Yeah. I know. Go out with a bang.” He sighed, rubbed the bridge of his nose. “So, are you going to move to the ranch full-time?”
“I don’t know. I’m sure my dad would love that, and God knows Tyna is going to be out of Austin soon, but I’m still thinking on it.” Kris set out coleslaw and potatoes.
“Cool. Where’s your sister going? I can’t imagine you two not being in the same basic place.”
“On the road with a lesbian stock contractor.”
Josh waited, sure Kris was joking. When he only stared, Kris chuckled.
“Not kidding.”
“Not kidding. As in cowshit and hay and carpet munching?” He was fairly sure he didn’t want to visualize that.
“Indeed. She was supposed to put in her notice today. What about you? Are you looking for another gallery here?”
“Who’s going to hire me? I’m not sure yet what I’m going to do. I have a few days to think about it.” He had a few ideas, most of which were a little drastic.
“Well, with your half of the sale, you can do a lot.” Kris tossed brisket in a big skillet on the stove. He never heated up leftover barbecue in the microwave; Kris always crisped it in a pan.
“I guess so. I hope Cy’s okay.” He wasn’t sure why he was here. What was this supposed to accomplish?
“You can call him tomorrow. Let him sleep it off, huh?”
“Yeah. Poor guy. I worry about him. He was so utterly panicked. You made a damn good catch, though.”
“That’s my job, right? Putting out the fires.”
“You know it. You are the man with the plan. Most together dude I know.” But not the most Zen. He was keeping that title.
“No, I’m not.” Kris grimaced, then turned his back to stir the meat. “You want me to do the turkey too?”
“No, save it for your lunch tomorrow.” He knew Kris liked it on a hot dog bun with mustard.
“Cool.” Kris got out a loaf of white bread and a bottle of sauce. “So, this is weird, huh? I mean, do I make you coffee? Do we make small talk? What the hell?”
“I know, right. I’ll eat and then go. I’d say I’d just go, but I’m hungry and it smells good, so sue me.”
“No suing. I… I want you to hang out, strangely enough. Is that too bizarre? Like, I want to sit with you and watch a movie or something.”
Josh chuckled softly. “We just haven’t figured out how to say good-bye yet. It’ll happen, but not today. We used to be friends, huh? Before life happened.” He wasn’t going to say before he screwed up, because they both knew he had, but he’d made amends.
“We did. I’ve missed you so much.” Kris dished up two plates of brisket, the meat all dark and crunchy now. “I wonder if we ever gave each other a fighting chance.”
“I don’t have an answer for that.” He went to the fridge and grabbed the root beers. Root beers. That was irony at its best.
“Me either.” Kris sat and poured sauce on his meat. “My brother loved brisket.”
“What? You mean Tyna?” Kris didn’t have a brother.
“No, I mean my older brother, Kane. He died.” Kris dropped the words so casually, like they weren’t completely new to Josh.
“When? How old were you?” What the fuck happened and why hadn’t anyone said?
“I was ten? Eleven?” Kris made this face, sort of like his skull was caving in. “Oh God. He’s been gone twenty years.”
“I don’t understand.” He stared at Kris, at his plate, at Kris again. What the fuck was going on? He felt like the whole world was out of control.
“Kane. I swear, Josh, I haven’t said his name to anyone but Tyna in years. Daddy acts like he never fucking existed.”
“Was he young?”
“He’d just turned sixteen.” Kris pushed food around his plate, pale as milk under his tan.
“And you never mentioned him?” They’d known each other for years, been lovers for years. How could it have never come up? Kris knew all about Josh’s family. Or lack thereof.
“We don’t talk about him.” Kris laughed, and he sounded like he was cracking right down the middle. “Like, at all. How fucking crazy is that?”
“Relatively. I mean, y’all didn’t keep him locked in the attic, right? People had to have known him. Friends, stuff?” The idea of locking someone in the attic for years was reasonable, if they were talking about the Judge, but two ten-year-olds? Unlikely.
“No. He died in a car accident.” Kris finally looked at him again. “Mom had a five- or six-martini lunch and swerved into the oncoming lane bringing him back from a doctor’s appointment down in Houston.”
“Jesus!” He knew that Kris’s mom had died, of course, but no one had said anything about her dying in a wreck. A DWI, even.
“Yeah.” Kris sighed, rolling his head on his neck. “I think at first we didn’t talk about it because it made Mom crazy. She’d go on a bender every time someone whispered Kane’s name. But after she died, it got even worse.”
“Wait. She didn’t die in the wreck too?” He was having trouble keeping all the threads together. The last few days made Josh feel like Alice falling into Wonderland. Right now he was feeling like he was tiny and the room was growing larger every minute.
“Three years later. Liver failure.”
God, how much did that have to suck? Watching your mom drink herself to death? Christ. “I…. Do you ever go see him at the cemetery or anything?”
Josh. Shut up. Just shut up.
“I should. He’s in the family plot on Daddy’s land.” Kris finally began to eat, which made Josh feel like sharing time might be ending. Thank God, because he had too many thoughts in his head already.
Josh nibbled on one of the crispy parts of the brisket, listening to the voices in his head. That wasn’t new; what had changed was that instead of telling him he had to try harder, be better, prove himself to Kris, they were telling him a truth he didn’t want to figure out.<
br />
This thing with Kris and the drinking? It wasn’t about Josh at all. Probably never had been, except incidentally. Really, setting a house on fire was pretty bad. Still….
“Sorry I dumped on you, baby. It’s been a crazy week, you know?”
“Totally. It’s been wild, but we survived it.” At least on the outside. Josh wasn’t so sure that parts of his innards had made it at all. “That’s what friends are for, right? Listening?”
“Yeah. I guess there’s a lot we don’t know, you know? I mean, I never knew you were in AA.” If that sounded a little accusing, Josh thought he’d let it go.
“You never asked. It wasn’t something we were going to talk about, I guess. I assumed you knew.”
“I didn’t.” Kris snorted. “I guess it never occurred to me. It’s not something people do in my world, you know?”
No, cowboy people just repressed everything. I can’t see it so it can’t be there.
That was a more comforting thought than Kris just thinking he was lying, right?
“Yeah. Well, I needed help. I got it.”
“Good.” Kris nodded sharply before standing and scraping the rest of his food into the trash can.
That felt like his cue to go, so he did the same, feeling guilt for wasting the food, but knowing he wasn’t going to be able to keep it down.
“Is there anything you need? Anything I can do?”
Kris paused, back to him for a moment, shoulders hunching up. Then Kris turned to face him, holding out a hand. “Come with me a minute? I just—I need to….”
God, Kris sucked at asking for help of any kind. Josh pulled Kris to him and hugged hard. “I can do that.”
Even if it killed him, which it might. He took Kris to the big sofa and settled him down, wrapping around and holding on. Kris dug right in, face against his shoulder, and for the first time since they’d known each other, he heard Kris cry.
Josh didn’t, not until Kris was sound asleep. Then one tear slid down his cheek, landing in Kris’s thick, dark hair.
“Love you, cowboy,” he whispered. “I get it now. It’s not that you won’t believe in me. It’s that you can’t.”
He got it.
He hated it, but he got it.
Josh left Kris sleeping, then got in his car and pulled away, and called Zack.