I'm Your Man

by Timothy James Beck

  While they talked, I scrutinized Jake, wondering why he was still single. He’d definitely be a catch for anyone, man or woman. He was the male version of Sheila—tall, blond, wholesome, and straight. I liked him for all the same reasons I liked Josh. He accepted people for who they were, and was himself no matter what company he was in.

  Jake had been the first person I’d told that I was gay, and I only did that when Sheila came to live with me, so he wouldn’t think I was taking advantage of his little sister. I remembered how tense that time had been.

  Sheila had turned up at my Hell’s Kitchen apartment without warning, expecting to see Sydney with me. No one knew we were separated, because Sydney was afraid if her father found out, he would make her move back home. I made up a story for Sheila about how Sydney had been accepted to an art school in Chicago, and we commuted to see each other. Sheila didn’t need much convincing. Not only did she and Sydney no longer get along, but Sheila was afraid of how her family would react to her taking off without telling them. She wanted me as an ally. As soon as I realized what she’d done, I made her call home to let them know where she was. Her parents were furious.

  The day after Sheila’s arrival, the Breslin Evans receptionist, Mitzi, buzzed me to tell me that Jake Meyers was there to see me. My relief that it wasn’t Sheila’s father dissipated when I saw Jake’s expression. I left orders not to be disturbed and closed my office door with trepidation.

  “My parents sent me to get Sheila, but I don’t know how to find her,” Jake said. “What the hell is going on, Blaine? You dumped my sister years ago to marry Sydney, and now Sheila’s here, and Sydney isn’t? You’ve got five minutes to tell me why I shouldn’t deck you.”

  “It’s not how it looks. I had no idea Sheila was coming. But she’s twenty-two years old, Jake, and capable of making her own decisions. Not one of which, I promise, has anything to do with me. I’m just a port in a storm. If you drag her back home, she’ll leave again. At least with me, she’s safe.”

  “You’re a married man. She can’t stay here with you.”

  “Nobody knows this, and I’m only telling you because I know you’ll keep it to yourself, but Sydney and I are separated.”

  Jake glared at me and said, “That’s supposed to make it better?”

  “There’s nothing going on between Sheila and me. There won’t be.”

  “Right. She’s a beautiful young woman who’s been in love with you since she was what, eleven? How stupid do you think I am?”

  I knew I had to diffuse his anger. I could think of only one sure way, and I decided to do it even if it cost me his friendship. “Jake, I’m not going to take advantage of Sheila. I’m gay.”

  He blinked at me and finally said, “You’re not lying, are you?”

  “No,” I said. He sat down as if the wind had been knocked out of him and stared at me for a few minutes. “Go ahead and say whatever’s on your mind. I’ve had this conversation with you in my head a thousand times, and it never turns out good.”

  “Jesus, Blaine. You’re my best friend. What do you think I’m going to say?”

  “I honestly don’t know.”

  “Sit down. Talk to me.”

  It had been such a relief to admit the truth to someone else, and Jake listened in silence while I described how long and hard I’d fought this essential fact about myself. It helped that I didn’t have to explain why Sydney and my parents couldn’t know. It also helped that Jake had other gay friends and didn’t ask me stupid questions that I probably couldn’t have answered anyway.

  Telling Jake had ended up being one of the most liberating experiences of my life. We’d even been able to laugh about some of the awkward situations my secret had created for me. By the time I rode with him to the airport that night, after a good dinner and a few drinks, Jake was sure he’d be able to handle his parents.

  And he had. Sheila never found out he’d been there. Jake kept my secrets. All of them. Even from his sister.

  I realized that Adam and Jake were staring at me.

  “What?” I asked.

  “How’s the Apple Dunhill Gang?” Jake repeated.

  I filled him in on my mother’s condition. He knew better than to ask questions about my father or brothers. Nor did he put me on the spot about Daniel. He already knew my perspective on things, since he’d been the only person I’d felt like I could talk to after the breakup. Since then, I figured Sheila had given him her side of the story, which meant he probably knew more about how Daniel was taking things than I did. The same was true of Adam and Jeremy, but at least with Jake, there was no question of divided loyalties. It might be interesting to hear what Sheila had told him. But definitely not when Jeremy was around.

  It was Jeremy, however, who gave me a little surprise while we were eating dinner. I asked him some questions about how his work was going, and I watched his expressive face as he seemed to go through some kind of inner struggle before reaching a decision.

  “You know part of my program involves outreach to the public schools,” Jeremy said. “Using acting to help teens express some of the stuff they’re working through.”

  “Yes.”

  “One of your nephews recently joined my group. Nicky.”

  “Really? He is the problem child, so I guess I’m not surprised. I would have thought he was too bashful to get into acting, though.”

  Jeremy shrugged and said, “He’s a good kid. He seems to really enjoy himself.”

  Later that evening, when Adam ever-so-tactfully said he had a Web project to work on, and Jeremy a little less tactfully made himself scarce, Jake and I sat in front of the fireplace and caught up. He shook his head when I told him about my brothers’ reactions to the little bomb I’d dropped on them.

  “Typical, huh? Shane takes it personally, and Wayne just wants to build a bomb shelter and stick you in it.”

  “I know he’s going to make newspaper headlines someday,” I said.

  “He’s harmless,” Jake assured me. “We’ve all got one in our families.”

  “Yeah? Who’s yours? Sheila?”

  We laughed, then his face grew serious. “Sheila says Daniel’s torn up about this, Blaine. It’s been, what, nearly three months since you broke up? Have you talked to him yet?”

  “No. I’ve thought about it. I’m not as angry as I was. But it’s hard to forget the things we said the last time we spoke. I know if we could get past that, it would make things easier on our friends. But I guess that’s not my biggest priority right now.”

  “Your friends will survive,” Jake said with a shrug. “You’ll know when the time is right.” After a long silence, he asked, “What is your biggest priority right now? It’s obvious you’ve got something on your mind.”

  I laughed and said, “I’m worse than a teenage girl asking all her friends for advice.” I told him about Gretchen’s proposition and what Adam and Josh had to say on the subject.

  I barely had time to take a breath before Jake said, “Do it.”

  “You don’t even have to think about it?” I asked.

  “Blaine, I’ve known you all our lives. You’ve always wanted kids, and it’s obvious you and Gretchen care about and trust each other. I don’t know why you’re hesitating.”

  “It bothers me that Adam thinks it’s a bad idea,” I said. “I respect him, so his opinion matters to me.”

  “Adam said he wouldn’t do it. He’s not you. He’s happy with his life the way it is.”

  “It’s my family,” I finally admitted. “It’s not like I had good role models. What if I end up like my parents? I wouldn’t want to make a child feel unloved.”

  Jake shook his head and said, “Haven’t you figured out what’s wrong in your family? It’s not that they don’t love you.”

  “It’s not?” I asked.

  “No. It’s that they never let you love them. You’ve got so much to give. You’ll be a great father.”

  “Thank you,” I said, impressed as always by the wa
y Jake could say the right thing.

  After he was gone, I called the hospital and checked on my mother, then sat in front of the television in a stupor. It had been a long day. I dozed off; when I opened my eyes, Jeremy was standing in front of me with a glass of water in his hand.

  “I was about to go to bed,” he said. “Can I get you anything?”

  “No, I’m good. I just need to haul myself upstairs.”

  I was too tired to think about the times Daniel and I had shared the guest room. I must have fallen asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. But sometime later, I awoke, feeling disoriented. After I remembered where I was, I could hear muffled voices from Adam’s room.

  I turned over and pulled a pillow over my head. The sounds of lovemaking couldn’t have made me feel anywhere near as jealous as the comfortable intimacy of a couple talking just before they fell asleep. My need of Daniel gnawed at me, and I finally uncovered my head and fumbled in the dark until I found my cell phone. Gretchen answered a little sleepily on the third ring.

  “I know it’s late, and I’m sure I woke you. But we have to talk.”

  “It’s okay,” she said, sounding a bit more alert.

  I told her about my day, focusing on the emotional turmoil my family caused me. “You might want to reconsider the gene pool you’re diving into,” I finally said.

  “Are you telling me yes?” Gretchen asked.

  I realized that I’d been asking myself that same question for days. Whether I was at work, the gym, home in New York, or revisiting my past in Wisconsin, I was constantly looking at my life and the world through a father’s eyes, wondering if having a child with Gretchen was the right thing for me to do. My head, heart, and gut all pointed to the same answer. I took a deep breath and said, “I am telling you yes. Yes. It just feels right. Does that make sense?” She didn’t say anything, and I thought I heard her sniff. “Are you crying?”

  “A little. With relief. I was worried you might say no, even though I had a feeling you’d say yes,” Gretchen said. “Can I just tell you how happy you’ve made me? We’ll talk about all the details when you get back to Manhattan.”

  “Okay. I’m sorry I woke you up.”

  “I’m not,” she said with a laugh. “The bars are still open. I’m going out to get hammered.”

  “Isn’t it kind of late? Don’t you have to work tomorrow?”

  “So? It could be years before I can get drunk again. I want to get it in while there’s still time.”

  “If we were talking about contraception, that could be the new slogan for—”

  “The sponge: because I want to get it in while there’s still time,” Gretchen interrupted, her voice serene and breathy like Sheila’s in the Autumn Dusk commercials she’d done early in her modeling career. She’d forbidden her friends to mention the douche product in her presence, which provoked a puerile desire in us to bring it up whenever we could.

  After Gretchen and I stopped laughing, I said, “You’ll have other chances to drink. I won’t be home for a few days. Insemination isn’t like sex. It doesn’t work over the phone.”

  “Neither does sex. I mean, I’ve heard. Good night, Blaine.”

  I intended to leave early for the hospital the next morning, since Adam’s office was in his home and I wanted to stay out of everyone’s way. But after my shower, I found Jeremy in my room. He’d made my bed and was sitting in the middle of it, his chin on his knees, appearing lost in thought.

  “This can’t be good,” I said. “Did you not assure me last night that you were done with advice and wisdom on the topic of Daniel?”

  “That was before Adam told me the plan you and Gretchen have hatched.”

  “Good choice of words,” I commented.

  “It was hard for me to give up my dreams of a life with Daniel,” Jeremy said. “I was so frustrated with him, and I made mistakes I couldn’t undo.”

  “Ancient history,” I said.

  “Would you let me talk? I know you stonewalled Sheila and Adam on the subject of Daniel. Well, I’m not intimidated by you. If you don’t value your friendship with me enough to hear me out, then I obviously don’t have much to lose by saying what I have to say anyway.”

  “Fair enough,” I said.

  “I started making peace with my mistakes after I saw how happy Daniel was with you. He’d moved on. It was obvious I had no choice but to do likewise. I know you got tired of me while Daniel and I were reinventing our relationship. But the thing is, though Daniel can be a frustrating lover, nobody could ever ask for a better friend. I can’t imagine my life without him in it.”

  “So you’re telling me that one day Daniel and I will be friends?”

  “I’m telling you his friendships are forged in something that’s rare and irreplaceable. He doesn’t turn his back on the people he loves. Even the ones who piss you off, like Martin. Hell, Blaine, you know how little Martin and I like each other. But what I do like is that Daniel has never failed his friend. Even now, when Martin is part of something that’s hurting you, and your relationship with Daniel, do you really expect Daniel to piss away years of friendship because you didn’t get your way? Get over it. If you don’t appreciate his loyalty, then you don’t deserve him.”

  “You’re entitled to your opinion. But you know what they say. Nobody but the two people involved really know what’s going on in a relationship. Maybe you’ll have to live with the fact that you don’t know everything,” I said, starting to get annoyed with him.

  “That’s fine, and you don’t owe me any explanations. But there’s another relationship at stake here. One that’s older than Daniel’s and Martin’s, older than Daniel’s and mine. His friendship with Gretchen. If you understand Daniel at all, and the emotions he invests in his friends, then I can’t help but wonder if this isn’t a great way to strike back at him. That’s just wrong, Blaine.”

  “First of all, I didn’t go to Gretchen with this plan. She came to me. I’m sure she took everything you’re saying into consideration before she did. Since she’s okay with it, maybe she has insight into Daniel that you don’t. I understand why Adam told you. But now you need to stay out of it. It’s up to Gretchen to talk to Daniel about any decision that she and I make.”

  “If you decide to go through with it, will she talk to him before you do it? And if she won’t, will you? Please?”

  “I don’t know what Gretchen will do. But as for me, no. Daniel made it clear that he expects me to go on with my life, just as he intends to, with the understanding that we’re done. I don’t know what the hell Daniel’s telling all of you, but let me set you straight on something. I didn’t just have a big temper tantrum and walk out on him. He wasn’t begging me to reconsider. He hasn’t picked up the fucking phone and said, ‘This is wrong. Let’s work it out.’ The decisions I make about my life and my future don’t have to take Daniel into consideration anymore. And vice versa. As for Gretchen, she’s a big girl. She can negotiate her relationship with Daniel on her own terms. I value my friendship with Adam. I know you’re part of the package, and I have no problem with that. But stay out of my personal life, because it no longer involves your friend Daniel. I’m sure he would agree with me.”

  “Okay, this needs to stop,” Adam said from the doorway. “Everybody’s caught in the middle of something, because we’re all too connected. It’s like everybody’s broken up, and it hurts. My advice, for what it’s worth, is that we focus on those things that pull us together. Like Sheila and Josh’s wedding. Or supporting Blaine through a family crisis. And respecting the boundaries and loyalties of our various relationships, whether those are with Daniel, Gretchen, Sheila, Martin, Blythe, or whoever. Blaine, you are always welcome in our home. And it is our home, not the place where Jeremy happens to live with me. He’s not a piece of furniture you have to tolerate just because it’s my room and I put it there.”

  “I’m sorry if I gave that impression,” I said.

  “Jeremy, Blaine is my friend and our gues
t. He already made it clear that he doesn’t want to talk about Daniel. If you force it—”

  “I’ve said what I had to say,” Jeremy interrupted. He left the bed and tried to go through the door, but Adam caught him and put his arms around him.

  “Don’t break your heart over this,” Adam said gently. “It’s all going to work out, one way or another.”

  Jeremy’s brown eyes were brilliant with tears when he looked at me over Adam’s shoulder.

  “I’m sorry, Jeremy,” I said. “I know your intentions are good. It’s just too raw right now, okay?”

  “I’m sorry, too,” he said.

  “I need to get to the hospital. Dinner tonight?”

  “Yes. You can take my truck,” Adam said.

  My mother was still out of it, but when I went to the hospital the day after that, mere hours before I was scheduled to fly back to New York, they’d moved her from cardiac intensive care into her own room. They’d also assured us that the damage to the valve was less serious than they’d thought. The doctors felt she would make a full and quick recovery.

  My father and brothers were not at the hospital, and although I was glad to see my mother in her own room, she still looked small and frail to me. When I walked in, she turned her head slowly toward the door. She lifted her hand in my direction, seeming to use all her strength to do so. Her eyes were at half-mast as she weakly asked, “Is it Blaine?”

  “Yes, Mom. It’s me. How you doing?”

  “Not too well. I guess they’ve told you that it won’t be long now.”

  I chose to ignore her ominous prophecy and changed the subject, saying, “Wow, look at all the flowers. Makes you know how many friends you have, doesn’t it?”

  “I don’t even know some of these people,” she said, sounding more normal after she realized I wasn’t playing Race to Death with her. “Who is Adam Wilson?”