My hair was finally shoulder length, and I guess that night I fussed with it more than I usually did. Mama didn’t like it, but both Rita and Trinket squealed when Mama said to cut it. “He can’t do that, Mama!” They both looked horrified. “Everybody’s got long hair!”
“Sean doesn’t,” Mama said back, quick, but with a smile.
“The students do,” Rita said. “Will’s a student.”
So I got away with it, and had decided to let it grow a little longer; though as I fussed with it that night for the dinner, I didn’t really know how to fix it. Parting it on the side looked plain awful, so I just brushed it back and it fell into its usual down-the-middle mess.
If anything, Uncle Sean fussed with his hair more than I did. But I knew why, because when we had invited Bryce and Carlos to dinner, he had ‘forgotten’ to ask them to bring a friend, so I took the phone out of Uncle Sean’s hand before he could say good-bye and spoke to Bryce. Although I didn’t really know him, I didn’t let it stop me. “Why don’t you invite some pretty guy over for Uncle Sean? We’ve decided he needs to date more.”
All I heard on the other end was laughter; then, “we sure will, kid. We’ve been trying to get him out of his shell for a long time. What changed his mind?”
“I did,” I said. “Don’t you think he’s too beautiful to go to waste?”
“He is that,” Bryce said.
We arranged times, and then I hung up, smiling. Uncle Sean tried to act annoyed, but it didn’t fool me. I could tell he was kind of intrigued.
“Nobody ever set me up with a blind date, Will. It never works out, you know.”
“I wouldn’t worry, Uncle Sean. I don’t think he’s blind, okay?”
So that was it, and fussing with our clothes and hair and appearance came to an end when the doorbell rang. “You go check on dinner,” I said. “I’ll get the door.”
Actually, I was a little nervous when I pulled the front door open. For one thing, I hoped I wasn’t way too young to be sitting in on a dinner with Uncle Sean’s friends. It would be the first time I had tried to hold my own with guys who were much older than me. But I was especially nervous about Uncle Sean’s blind date. I hoped he was good-looking, but not stuck on himself, and a nice guy. Even though Uncle Sean often shrugged when I told him he could probably get any guy he wanted because of his looks, I knew there had to be a lot more than looks under the surface; something to make them connect with each other. It had to be magic, as it had been with him and Teddy. And I had no idea what that might really be.
I barely recognized Bryce when I let in the three men. At the lake that day, he had looked fairly ordinary, naked or not, and somehow the turtleneck and sports jacket changed his looks for the better; but I could pick him out from the other two, as he handed me a bottle of wine. “You can either serve this or save it,” he said, smiling. “It’s one of our favorites. It’s best served at room temperature.”
We shook hands, and he introduced me to Carlos. He was quite good looking in a Mediterranean way—or what I figured a Greek would look like. He had a prominent nose and bushy black eyebrows, penetrating gray eyes, a wide jaw, and dark lips. For a business man, as Bryce had said Carlos was, he had a nice, firm grip when we shook hands. He was also wearing sports clothes, though of a cut and quality that even I could tell was expensive.
Then Bryce introduced me to Trevor. My heart sank a little, because I didn’t think he was all that good looking, though I mentally kicked myself for being so shallow. He was nicely dressed in a seer-sucker jacket and pink shirt, which rather washed out his already pale skin and light colored hair. It wasn’t exactly blond. We had on the overhead lights in the living room and they gave his hair a kind of strawberry color with a lot of blond in it. He even had freckles, though they weren’t that prominent once we moved away from the doorway. Then Uncle Sean came into the living room, and I stood off to the side.
I was kind of creeped out with the way they greeted one another, which I had seen at the lake the day Uncle Sean took me out there. They gave each other full-body hugs and then kissed each other on the lips. I guess it was just the way gay men greeted each other, but I didn’t want anyone getting that affectionate with me. Trevor and Uncle Sean even kissed each other on the lips, even though I didn’t think they knew each other all that well because Bryce had introduced them asking Uncle Sean if he remembered Trevor.
I turned the overhead lights in the dining room to a softer glow. And once everyone was seated, I took the bottle of wine Bryce had given me into the kitchen. My heart was pounding. I had been tongue-tied at the front door, and I needed a minute to recover from the way they had all cooed and kissed one another. Uncle Sean had talked about how quickly gay men jumped into bed together, and I didn’t know if I liked that idea. I didn’t know anything about Trevor, but I was hoping his being here wasn’t a blanket invitation to spend the night or something.
We had set a simple table. Uncle Sean didn’t fuss with silver and crystal, though I knew he had nice glasses and silverware, which he’d probably got in San Francisco when he was trying to build a home life with the boyfriend who eventually betrayed him. He had some Franciscan ware with apples on it and some matching apple glasses, which we put iced water in. We used cloth napkins we’d bought for the dinner at a local Pier One, along with straw place mats. The only crystal we used was for the wine. We had two jugs of the Chianti in the refrigerator, so as everyone was being seated, I got out the wine and poured it into the glasses.
Bryce and Carlos were running on about the lovely little setting for the table, but Trevor was glancing from them to Uncle Sean. I figured he was sizing him up. I doubted he could find Uncle Sean anything but breathtaking. Uncle Sean didn’t seem to be as interested in Trevor, and for that I was relieved. It wasn’t that I didn’t like Trevor—or dislike him. I didn’t know him.
“You two make a beautiful couple, Sean,” Carlos said as he swirled the wine in his glass. I cringed, because I didn’t think Uncle Sean and Trevor made a couple at all—at least not yet. It would have to be up to them, I thought, and not Carlos.
“Especially with your matching clothes,” Bryce added, which made me jump with surprise. Carlos had been referring to me and Uncle Sean, I guess. I was just sitting down on one end of the table, when I caught on.
I grinned into Carlos’ eyes and glanced at Bryce and Trevor. Everybody was smiling at me. “Uncle Sean wouldn’t let us be boyfriends,” I said, before I knew I was going to. And this caused everyone to laugh.
“Still, you’d give the queens whiplash all over town if you and Sean went out for the evening in matching outfits. Everyone would assume the same thing.” This was from Bryce.
Then he turned abruptly to Trevor. “Didn’t I tell you they were both drop-dead gorgeous?”
He’d said the same thing at the lake that day, but I felt irritated that he would say it again.
The way we had decided to seat everyone, Bryce and Carlos were on one side of the table. Uncle Sean and Trevor were on the opposite side, and I was on the end, with my back to the kitchen. I had told Uncle Sean I’d do the serving, and they could all visit. So, feeling uneasy at the suggestive turn in the conversation, I got up and went into the kitchen to get the salads.
I could hear screaming laughter as Trevor said something, though not loud enough for me to make out what he said. Then Uncle Sean said something in return, followed by more laughter, so I figured they would all be getting on well together that evening. I’d gotten what I wanted and suddenly I felt lonely for Lance; so lonely, in fact, I felt like crying all of a sudden.
Things had been so different back home in New Mexico and, despite all the mean things people said and did to us because they had found out we were boyfriends, I wasn’t so sure I liked the way gay men were so instantly familiar with each other here. Nothing like the way it was when Mama and Daddy had friends over for a visit. The men shook hands and the women sometimes did, but they were self-restrained. When it was just
gay men, as I was seeing tonight, there wasn’t anything to keep things in check. I thought about what Lance had said about the party he had gone to with his friends, and how later in the evening it had just turned into a big sex thing, with the men having sex all over the house. So I stayed in the kitchen longer than I needed to, trying to get a grip on my wild imagination. I was sure that Uncle Sean wouldn’t allow things like that in our place.
When I took the salads in and set them in front of our guests, I was relieved to hear that the conversation had turned to work. Carlos talked about a marketing trip he’d apparently just got back from, and Uncle Sean mentioned some of the innovations his own electronics company had been introducing into what he called the ‘high-tech’ market.
Bryce, Trevor, and I just looked back and forth as Carlos and Uncle Sean talked. The way we were seated, Bryce and Trevor were near my end of the table, and Uncle Sean and Carlos were sitting opposite each other, talking back and forth as we ate our salad.
Then I felt Trevor’s knee brush my leg under the table as he turned to me. “Sean says you’re a good student. What are you majoring in?”
I wasn’t sure if his touching my leg was deliberate, but I sure didn’t like the hungry way he looked at me. I took a quiet breath and reminded myself not to let my imagination take on a life of its own.
“I work in the geology department,” I said, just glancing at Trevor then toward Uncle Sean, then back. “It’s pretty interesting work, and I’m thinking about declaring that as my major. Right now, I’m just getting the general requirements out of the way.”
Again, Trevor’s knee brushed my leg, and I got up from the table, trying to act as if it was necessary. “I forgot the bread,” I said, looking at Uncle Sean. At the moment he was still talking to Carlos, but he glanced my way when he heard me and nodded.
“More wine?” he asked. “Now that Will is up?”
So I brought in the hot rolls we had gotten from the bakery and refilled everyone’s glasses. I hadn’t touched my water, but when I took the wine jug away, I took my water into the kitchen and hung out in there for a few minutes, again trying to calm down a little.
* * *
During the rest of the dinner, Bryce talked about his ‘architectural—slash—interior design’ business, and what he and Carlos had done to their own home, which I learned was in a subdivision between Austin and Dripping Springs, then their house on Lake Travis, and their villa on the Isle of Crete. I almost couldn’t keep my jaw from dropping, realizing that they were living superb lives. I was also relieved to see that they doted on each other, and nodded agreeably when either of them talked about their many projects.
Then I made the mistake of asking, “What do you do, Trevor?”
He had been silent about himself during the entire dinner, though he had contributed to the conversation in other ways, and I discovered he had a cruel sense of humor, or at least it seemed mean to me. When Bryce had been talking about some of the homes he had helped to design for the more well-off women in the area, Trevor had sniped at the descriptions of the homes. “It’s all just ‘Texas crass,’ though, isn’t it Bryce? You give these fat rich women what they want and it’s just a variation on the same theme: ‘Texas ugly.’“
Bryce treated Trevor’s outbursts with more humor than I would have; so when I asked Trevor what he did for a living, it was as if I’d asked him a deep, personal question.
“Oh puh-lease,” he said. “If it really matters to you, I bartend.” He said the name of the club, but he was right, it didn’t matter to me. I felt the ice from him, though. After all the talk about Uncle Sean’s and Carlos’ companies, Bryce’s and Carlos’ homes and Bryce’s business, it was almost as if Trevor’s job was the equivalent of ditch-digger. I judged his age to be Uncle Sean’s or a little older.
“He’s finishing up a doctoral program,” Bryce said to me. “Why he insists on telling people that crap about bartending, I’ll never know.”
“You sell yourself short,” Carlos added, nodding at Trevor. “So you bartend. You make great tips. You meet almost anyone who’s gay, and you—”
“But enough about me,” Trevor said, cutting Carlos off. He turned to Uncle Sean. “You need to get out more, girl. You-know-who has been heart-broken. You haven’t been in for what…six months?”
I tuned out the conversation, still feeling embarrassed with Trevor’s meanness when I had asked about him. So I busied myself with clearing the dishes. Just as I had told Uncle Sean I would, I left them to their after-dinner conversation and started cleaning the kitchen. I was running a sink of soapy water and rinsing the grime off the dishes, watching it run into the garbage disposal when I heard footsteps behind me. I didn’t turn around though, because I figured it was Uncle Sean bringing in the last of the dishes.
He grabbed me from behind and wrapped his arms around my chest, then I felt him grab a handful of my butt. I knew it wasn’t Uncle Sean, and I pushed away from the sink and spun around. Trevor was leering at me.
“I’ve been itching to see if you’re as muscled as you appear! Fess up, Will, you and Sean have this uncle-nephew thing going, don’t you?”
I was too stunned to open my mouth, but at least I knew right then that he wasn’t the man for Uncle Sean.
“We don’t. Sorry to disappoint you.”
“Then you’re free?” He had me backed up against the sink, and I could feel my legs shaking a little. Then he rubbed my crotch with his hand. I didn’t knock his hand away as I had Margie Collins’ two years before, but I was just as shocked and angry. I surprised myself, though. Something clicked just then. It was important not to let him know he had scared or angered me. I had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time I was groped. I knew I couldn’t spend all my time being pissed at such raw actions.
He was grinning at me and sort of closing his eyes as if what he was doing to me down there was giving him pleasure, though I doubted that it was much more than he’d do on any given night at the club where he bartended. I just thought it was bad manners.
“Actually, Trevor, I’m married,” I said. I pulled his hand off my crotch. “I’m already spoken for.”
He laughed at that. “You’re a cool cookie, is that it?” Then he ran his hands up my chest. “I could show you things you probably never even thought about.”
“I’m sure you could,” I said, again pulling his hands off my body. “And maybe if I wasn’t the monogamous sort and all that, I’d give it a try. But I am, so I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t touch me.”
Again he laughed. “Whatever you say. Sean said you might put on some coffee.”
I was relieved when he backed away.
“Sure, why not?” I said. “I’ll bring it in a few minutes.”
I was even more relieved when he left. When I turned back to the sink, my hands were shaking. This was one of those times that Lance had predicted. I’m sure that he had had his share of men like Trevor touching him, too, and in a way it made me feel good to think that we were going through the same things and staying true to each other. I’d call him first chance I got to tell him about Trevor.
Now I just had to make sure that Uncle Sean knew, and I hoped that would be enough for him to politely refuse Trevor’s advances on him if it came to that this evening. Trevor wasn’t the sort of man I was hoping Uncle Sean would be with.
Chapter Nine:
What Happened
Without Lance in Austin with me, I reverted back to my old habit of getting up early during the weekdays, but instead of having to set the water for irrigation or prepare a piece of machinery, I had begun running. I never had been a runner, but my body still craved some sort of activity that would keep me in shape. So the morning after our dinner party I got up at 5:30 and dressed in a pair of sweat pants, an old T-shirt, thick socks, and the sneakers I had ‘aged’ for the GPA meeting. Now they were sure enough worn since I’d been running for almost two months.
Uncle Sean was already up since he had so far to
drive to work. So when I heard the water running in the shower, I knew I could leave without having to talk to him. I was angry with him—or maybe angry about the situation—and I needed time to think. This morning I took ‘Lance’ from under my pillow and slipped it into the zipper pocket of my sweats. I needed him with me.
The sky was barely gray in the east, and with the heavy cloud cover, it was still dark out. The smell of moisture permeated the atmosphere—almost like an oncoming rain; something I had gotten used to in this part of the country, rather than the dry clarity of desert air. So as I took off down the street, I breathed deeply in and out. I liked the smell of the moisture. The quality of sound is also different in wetter climates, and this morning was no different. The sound of a car starting up, a car door slamming, even the traffic moving through the city sounded as if I heard it from under a blanket. In the desert you can hear a tractor running a mile away as if it’s close by, but here, even the slapping of my shoes on the sidewalk sounded muffled.
I had worked out a route that would take me two miles out and two miles back, which I could do in under a half-hour if I pushed myself, but this morning I just loped along letting the anger out with each stride. Maybe Uncle Sean wasn’t to blame. Maybe he needed the occasional contact with a warm body. Maybe, as he tried to come back to life after shutting himself off from the world, he needed to give in to temptation—especially if it was tossed in his lap as it had been last night.
All Over Him Page 9