A Kind of Romance

by Lane Hayes

  “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “You look pretty in the moonlight,” I commented. He looked as surprised as I was by the offhand compliment. It wasn’t my style to give them so freely. Regardless, it was the truth, I thought with a shrug. “No one would ever guess you were a con artist.”

  Benny chuckled appreciatively as he set his wineglass on the distressed-wood coffee table. “You’re guilty of underestimating my many talents.”

  “You misled me on purpose. Admit it.”

  “Sorry. I couldn’t resist.”

  “Hmph. What other hidden talents do you have? Are you a championship shuffleboard player? Do you hold the world record for holding your breath underwater?” I nudged his feet as he chuckled helplessly from his end of the sofa. “Let’s make a pact that you give me the heads-up before I make a fool of myself next time.”

  Benny wiped a tear from the corner of his eye and sighed. “How would that be any fun?”

  “Every time I suggested playing pool, you’d turn me down. Now I know why. You were waiting for this. How long have you been playing?”

  “Since I was a teenager. I was always the last guy chosen to be on a team. I didn’t care about sports, but the rejection sucked. It wasn’t just at school. There was always a game of football, baseball, or even dodgeball at every family get-together. When the weather was bad, everyone would play darts or pool or… go bowling. Those were all things I could master on my own.” He raised his glass in a toast and winked. “And then use as a parlor trick when one of my idiot cousins challenged me.”

  “Good to know I’m in esteemed company,” I huffed sarcastically.

  “I’ll never forget the first time I kicked Frank’s ass at pool. Priceless!”

  “Frank?”

  “Yeah. The one you defended my honor to at Angie’s wedding a few months ago.” His casual tone clashed with the look of intense pride on his face. I hadn’t thought twice about my words with his jackass cousin in months. I actually didn’t know he knew anything about it.

  “How did you—?”

  “Oh please! I warned you, no one can keep a secret in my family. And they have no qualms about eavesdropping. So… thank you.”

  I ran my foot along his calf and smiled. “It wasn’t a big deal, but you’re welcome.”

  “It was to me. I’m used to sticking up for myself,” he teased with a grin. “You’re so gallant, so brave….”

  I rolled my eyes and kicked at him playfully. He had a mischievous exuberance about him that made me laugh even though I had a feeling the joke was on me. I tuned out his words and concentrated on him. The way the outside light reflected on his skin, accentuating the glint of easy humor in his gaze. He was joyful and lighthearted, and like it or not, he took me along with him until all I could feel was his happiness and lightness of being.

  “…and I’ve made a decision about my prize too.”

  I gave him a “what the fuck” look before voicing it aloud and adding, “We didn’t even play the whole game. I think your claim is null and void.”

  The bright red blanket rode low on his waist as he leaned forward to tweak my left nipple. “Sour grapes, Gulden. Time to pay the piper… with a song. Since you’re a Gershwin aficionado, you can sing one of his. Start to finish. Go!”

  “You want me to sing? You tricked me. You got your prize already, Ravioli,” I said as I reached for my wineglass. “Me.”

  He snorted and murmured something off-color that made me chuckle. “Fine. I’ll take a rain check. You can surprise me at a later date with Gershwin in the moonlight. In the meantime, let’s play a drinking game.”

  “With wine?”

  He nodded, then set his thumb and forefinger on his chin as though deep in thought. “Let’s play Never Have I. You know how this goes, right? I say something like ‘Never have I given a blowjob on a first date’ and you say—”

  “Bullshit.”

  Benny gave me a dirty look but nodded. “Exactly. If you’re right, I drink. If you’re wrong, you do. I think we’re okay with wine. The object isn’t to get sloshed. It’s just for fun. I started, so it’s your turn.” He took a healthy swig of wine, then leaned forward to refill his glass and mine. “Go.”

  “Okay… never have I ever kissed someone of the opposite sex.”

  “Ooh. Good one. I want to say bullshit but—you haven’t, have you?”

  “That’s not how you play, genius. You have to give a definitive answer.” I shook my head ruefully and waited for his reply.

  “Um… I’m going to say bullshit, but I’ll follow it up with a disclaimer. If you did kiss a girl, you did it for a reason.”

  “Well done.” I raised my glass and took a sip. “To get my dad off my back. I thought getting caught kissing Rachel Brownstein would grant me a reprieve from uncomfortable questions and suspicious looks.”

  “Did it?”

  “Not for long. Your turn.”

  He hesitated. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “I have a feeling you’re changing the rules again, but sure… ask away.”

  “When did your mom get sick?”

  The simple inquiry felt like a shot to the gut. I set my wineglass aside and took a deep breath.

  Benny cocked his head and continued in a soft voice, “Was it sudden? I’ve read Alzheimer’s can go undetected for years and—”

  “You’ve read?”

  “Yeah. I was curious about what you’ve gone through and… does that bother you?”

  I bit my lip and shook my head. Bothered? No. I was touched. I gave him a weak smile and thought about how to explain the nightmare that began unfolding a few years ago.

  “It’s hard to say. Maybe seven years ago. It was probably going on for years in a milder form. I think my dad ignored the signs or just didn’t want to talk about it. He’d gently remind her of names and places when they slipped her mind. Or divert her when she started to tell the same story twice. But when she couldn’t find her way home from the same market she’d been going to for years… we all knew something was wrong. Including her. Medication and therapy helped at first. Two years after the grocery store episode we thought she was fine. But it hadn’t gone away. Not really. The worst part was watching her face and realizing she knew it. She was so… scared.

  “I remember this one Sunday. The whole family was at the house for dinner. It was something she insisted on even after we’d all moved out. No excuses. The weekly family Sunday night dinner. Be there or else,” I said with a small chuckle. “She was in the kitchen telling me that night’s menu when Abe walked in with his wife. My mom turned to greet them. She gave Abe a hug, then held her hand out to Rebecca and said, ‘It’s nice to meet you.’” I closed my eyes for a second to ward off the chill of that memory and refocused on Benny. “She recovered immediately and was… mortified. Abe, Bec, and I were staring at her like she had three heads. For fuck’s sake, Bec and Abe went to high school together. They had a baby and were maybe a month away from announcing they were having another. My mom knew Bec and loved her like a daughter. To not recognize her wasn’t the same as forgetting a random acquaintance. It was getting lost on the way home from the market all over again.”

  “I’m so… sorry. Is she—does she live at home still?”

  “No. She’s at a care facility now. It’s been two and half years. Dad held off for as long as possible. Until the morning she woke up and didn’t recognize him. Worse than that, she was afraid of him. Nowadays, she doesn’t know any of us. We’re just nice people who visit. She doesn’t remember… anything. How to get dressed, how to make breakfast. I brought her rugelach from her favorite bakery recently and she—she acted like she’d never tasted it in her life, let alone baked it every other day for years. She’s a stranger now. But not the kind I can walk away from. She’s still my mom. She used to be my rock. It’s my turn to try and be that for her.” I shrugged and reached for my wineglass.

  Benny didn’t speak for a long moment. When he di
d, his voice was thick with emotion. “You’re a good man, Zeke. She’s lucky to have you.”

  I gave him a lopsided smile and brushed my leg against his. “I was the lucky one, Ben. I’m not sure I would have survived without her when I was a teenager. I’m not kidding. There were days I just didn’t want to live. I was too sensitive, too scared, too… self-absorbed. I needed daily affirmation that I’d be all right one day. She was always there for me. My dad bullied me relentlessly, but my mom… she was the ultimate justice. Nothing and no one got by her. Not even Dad. I owe her… everything I am. Everything I have.

  “It’s extraordinarily painful to sit with someone who once knew intimate details about me… from my favorite breakfast cereal and cartoons when I was a kid to my boyfriends’ shoe sizes as an adult. Now I’m something like the barista at the local coffee shop. She recognizes me but doesn’t know my name most days, and she doesn’t know anything about me. The only thing she remembers is the name George. She doesn’t associate it with my dad necessarily, but she must sense the name is… important. And she knows she likes roses.”

  “Roses?”

  “Pink roses. Dad brings them to her a few times a week. In the beginning I think he hoped they’d remind her who he is to her. Now he knows that won’t happen, so he brings them because they make her smile and—” I paused and swallowed hard. I felt choked up now and raw. “—now, he says that’s enough.”

  “That’s beautiful,” Benny whispered, wiping a tear from his eye.

  “It’s fucking depressing. Back to the original program in progress. It’s your turn,” I prodded. “Never have you ever… what?”

  He looked like he had a million more questions, but I really hoped he’d leave them for another time. I needed something joyful and of the moment now. No more trips to the past. He nodded slowly and then cleared his throat noisily.

  “Never have I ever gone skinny-dipping.”

  “Bullshit,” I exclaimed, pointing to his wineglass. “Drink up.”

  He made a silly face, and we both laughed. It was a weak attempt to move back to neutral, but I had a feeling it was too late. I’d given away more than I meant to tonight. I’d shared pieces of myself I didn’t usually share. I was exposed, and it should have freaked me out. Instead, I felt a sense of peace I hadn’t in years.

  IN A karmic twist of fate, I seemed to find myself at Bowery Bagels more than I had since I worked there as a teen. It happened kind of naturally. Benny spent the night at my place almost every night and was scheduled to work at five thirty at least three mornings a week. For the sake of convenience and because I didn’t want him riding the subway in the wee hours, Hector and I dropped him off at the store before heading downtown to work. He spent a couple evenings a week working at Johnny’s, but his involvement in the new theater production with William was his main focus. His tiny apartment had become a dedicated workspace. The one rack that once held his clothing had multiplied to three and was jam-packed with remade costumes. It hardly mattered because most of his things were in my closet now.

  I glanced at my personal cell as I finished a conference call on my business line. A new text from Benny lit up the screen, illuminating the backseat of the Mercedes.

  Ur dad invited me to dinner Sunday.

  I stared at it for a long moment before heaving a sigh and turning it over. Something weird was going on with me. I didn’t mind spending time with Benny’s family, but my own father still aggravated the hell out of me. The Ruggieris were loud, nosy, and had a tendency to talk over each other. In other words, they were just like the Guldens. Minus the guilt. And the history.

  I flipped my phone over and typed a brief message.

  Don’t commit. I’ll be there in a minute.

  Too late. I said yes. R u close? I’m hungry.

  I was but now I’m ditching you. Later.

  My cell rang a moment later.

  “Please tell me you’re working on a comedy routine. If I eat another bagel, I will officially exceed my carb quota for the week. And it’s Monday.”

  I chuckled in spite of my plummeting mood and looked out the window. “I’m around the corner. Be ready.”

  “Okay. I’ll tell Abe I don’t need a ride. See ya!”

  “Abe? What—?”

  Hector pulled in front of the store before I could ask any further questions. I stepped onto the sidewalk and peered into the darkened shop. At six in the evening, the store should have been locked and closed for a couple of hours already. I’d been surprised when Benny asked me to pick him up here. I reached for the handle just as someone called my name behind me.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Abe gave me harried once-over and shook his head. “Dad agreed to let two gourmet food tours stop by this afternoon. The last one left half an hour ago. Thank God Benny was available to help. Pops shouldn’t be taking on extra work like this.”

  “Did you help out too?” I asked distractedly. How come I never knew what was going on around here?

  “No. I’ve got nine other stores to run. I don’t have time for this! I’m just here to give him a ride home. We gonna see you for dinner next week?”

  I punched his arm in a show of brotherly love and gave him my flippant standard reply. “If it’s not a holiday… no. Why?”

  “You’re an asshole. How does Benny put up with you?” he asked, smacking me upside the head before quickly moving out of my reach. “Dad invited him, so I think you’re going anyway. Bring a bottle of something expensive.”

  “Don’t hold your breath. The door’s locked, genius. Try the back,” I said, chuckling lightly when he flipped me off.

  He strode purposefully around the corner to the back of the building. I was about to follow him when I saw movement inside the store. My father and Benny were engaged in an animated conversation near the register. I watched the two men surreptitiously. My father was a short, balding old man now, but once upon a time, he’d been a larger-than-life figure to me. His big, booming voice and congenial personality drew people to him. Everyone loved George. Children, college students, busy young professionals, and retirees. Even gay people loved him now. Yet as I observed him with my somewhat flamboyant lover, I couldn’t shake the feeling I’d been robbed.

  Something stood between my father and me. Something he wanted to cover and pretend didn’t exist. It felt like a physical barrier. It had to be the same something that kept me from banging on the window to say hello. I wished like hell I could overlook the past as easily as he seemed to, but fuck… I couldn’t let it go. It was my problem. Not his. Sure, he’d been the cause, but he’d apologized. Often. He’d shown he was a different man than the one who’d endlessly belittled and harassed me for being someone he didn’t understand. I couldn’t understand what held me back from taking what he offered. From allowing him to be part of my life the way he wanted to be.

  I hadn’t told him anything about Benny and me. I let him make assumptions, but I hadn’t shared much beyond occasional dinner plans. It irked me that my dad and brother were inviting him to a family dinner, and once again… it made no fucking sense. Benny worked for my dad. Of course he had a relationship with him. I looked up just as Dad smiled at Benny, patting his shoulder affectionately. He loved him because I loved him—whoa!

  What the fuck? Love? I licked my lips nervously, took a deep breath, and closed my eyes, willing myself to relax and stop thinking so hard. When I opened them a moment later, I focused on Benny and felt a sense of calm sweep over me. He caught my stare and looked over at me with a shy smile that made my heart skip a beat. We were separated by a pane of glass that somehow seemed symbolic. Like everything I needed was within reach if I could only figure out how to break through the barrier.

  BENNY WAS more talkative than usual on the ride home. He regaled me with a funny story about the farmer from Iowa and his wife who’d taken a look at his purple-tinged hair and couldn’t stop staring at him while they sampled bagels and cream cheese like they were a wild and rare
delicacy. His nonstop monologue would have driven me crazy a few months ago. Tonight, it soothed me. He soothed me. The way he twisted in his seat to face me, touching my arm occasionally for emphasis. The way his eyes sparked with humor one moment and exasperation the next. It was when he went suddenly quiet that I became uneasy.

  “Why aren’t you talking?” I asked as Hector navigated the congestion on Broadway.

  “I didn’t think you were listening.”

  “I couldn’t get a word in edgewise,” I countered.

  “You have the floor now. What’s on your mind?”

  “I was thinking about my company cock”—I gave him a sideways, cocky smirk as I reached over to cup his package—“tail party. It’s on Friday.”

  “I remember. Lucky me. An evening with a bunch of hetero finance geeks and their lovely wives,” he drawled.

  “It sounds awful, doesn’t it? We’ll be outta there within half an hour. I just have to put in an appearance and—”

  “Then why have me go at all? I can meet you afterward—”

  I shook my head and frowned. “Nope. I need you.”

  “I suppose I should fix my hair. Whatever will they think of me?” he asked as he ran his fingers through his bangs.

  “Who cares what anyone thinks?” I grasped his hand and turned my palm to lace my fingers through his. I shot him a grin and raised his hand to kiss his fingers. “Thank you.”

  He looked down at our joined hands and then at me in surprise. He cocked his head and brushed his hair aside with his other hand. He seemed suddenly nervous, or maybe just puzzled. Either way, I was perversely pleased when he stuttered and cleared his throat.

  “What for?”

  “You’re good with my dad. Thank you for being kind to him.”

  “There’s no reason to thank me. I love George! He talked about you a lot today. He was telling that couple from Iowa about his successful Wall Street son and—you know, he loves you, Zeke. He just wishes you’d visit more often.”