by Andrew Grey
“You’re shaking,” Johnny said as he reached around to close the door, and then he held Kendall tight. “Did something happen?” Kendall shook his head. “You’re okay.”
“I was alone, and Sal stayed on the phone until you came home.” Kendall rested his head against Johnny’s chest. “What the hell am I going to do? I’m afraid to be alone, and the thought of being on a stage in front of a crowd scares the shit out of me. What if he’s in the audience?” Kendall shook again, and Johnny held him tighter.
“Just relax as best you can. You don’t have to go back to work until you’re ready. Give yourself some time.” Johnny soothed him and lightly stroked Kendall’s hair. Some of the tension eased. “You love the theater way too much to let some stalker take that away from you.” Kendall lifted his gaze. “You can’t let that happen, ever. Part of you will die, and I could never bear to see that.”
“I feel like part of me has already died,” Kendall admitted.
“No, it hasn’t. Part of you is exhausted, scared, and nervous, but it hasn’t died. You need to give yourself time. Read whatever Sal is going to send over and don’t let anyone pressure you into anything.”
Kendall nodded. “Would you call him? He said he could help with security or something.”
“He seems to be able to do everything,” Johnny quipped.
“The man’s older than dirt. He’s seen everything and probably done everything. That’s part of why I love him,” Kendall said with a sigh.
“Do you know what I think will help?” Johnny didn’t wait for an answer. “Doing normal things, like going for coffee, visiting your family. Maybe find a theater to haunt, and seeing familiar places and faces. This is New York, our home, where we have a full life together. So let’s reconnect with that.”
“But I don’t want to go out alone, at least not yet.”
“Then I’ll go with you. I’ll bring my laptop. You and Gina can chat until you’re hoarse, and I’ll work.” Johnny smiled and instantly disarmed all of Kendall’s arguments. “So call your mother and arrange to go out for a visit. Call friends and we’ll meet them for coffee. Do what you’d normally do.” Johnny got a wicked look in his eyes. “Call and get tickets for a show you’d like to see. We’ll go to the theater together. We haven’t done that in a long time.”
That was true. When Kendall was performing, he never got the chance to see anything. “You’re sure?” he asked with more excitement than he thought possible under the circumstances. “Let me call a friend. Maybe I can get tickets to Book of Mormon. I’ve wanted to see that for years.” Kendall hugged Johnny and then grabbed his phone. He called a contact about tickets, who said he’d call him back. Then he called his mother, and they were both commanded to come out the following weekend.
“It’s lovely out here right now, so pack your suitcase and stay a few days,” his mother had said. “I never get to see you for very long, so I intend to take advantage.” He wouldn’t say no to a weekend in the Hamptons. He then called friends and set up afternoons for coffee and conversation. Kendall even got Johnny to call some of his friends—equal time, or punishment, as the case might be. By the time he was done, his theater contact had called back and said there would be tickets waiting for them at the box office the following night.
“You’re going to be fine,” Johnny reassured him once Kendall hung up the phone.
“I think you’re right,” Kendall agreed with what he hoped was more sincerity than he felt. Johnny was being so supportive, and he felt like such a wet blanket. But Johnny was right—getting to a normal routine would help, as long as Johnny was there with him.
“Good,” Johnny said and kissed him lightly. “Let me make some dinner, and you can finish unpacking.” Kendall sighed softly. “You didn’t think I was going to let you get out of that little task, did you?”
Kendall reluctantly let go of Johnny and returned to the bedroom. He got his suitcases unpacked, put the dirty clothes in the laundry, and put away his clean clothes. “We should think about hiring a valet,” Kendall called from the bedroom.
“Either that or a maid,” Johnny called back, and Kendall jumped as pans clattered to the floor in the other room. “Maybe just a larger apartment,” Johnny added.
Kendall closed the suitcase and slid it under the bed. “You know, we could look for a house,” he called, but he didn’t hear a response. Kendall stepped back from the bed and peered out into the other room. Johnny stood still. “Did you hear me?”
“You’d move outside the city?” Johnny asked softly.
“Yeah. I think so. We could look for a house on Long Island or in New Jersey. Someplace within commute distance.”
“You realize you’d be coming home after the curtain most nights,” Johnny said and then shook his head. “I don’t think that’s practical.”
“Okay,” Kendall said softly. “But maybe we could look at buying a bigger apartment. A place of our own.”
Johnny set down the knife he was holding. “Yeah, I think I’d like that.”
“So how much do you think we can afford?” Kendall asked as he went back to work.
“Honey,” Johnny said from behind him, and Kendall started again. “We have a lot of money.” Johnny sat on the edge of the bed and patted the mattress next to him. “You remember how we talked early on about how both of our careers could be hot one day and ice cold the next?”
“Yeah,” Kendall said.
“Well, we’ve been hot for years. Your career has been a steady climb, and, well, I figured the books would cool off, but they haven’t. The thing is, we haven’t spent a lot of it,” Johnny told him. Kendall had been happy to let Johnny manage the money. He’d never had a good head for it, so they’d set up an allowance system for both of them years ago, and he’d always lived within it. The rest went to savings and investments. Rent for their place was still reasonable even if some of the rent control had started to expire.
“What are you saying?”
“With our investments and things, we have millions. I’m not saying we should spend it all on an apartment, but we can afford a mortgage.” Johnny sighed. “But I think before we make any decisions, you need to find out what you want to do in the long term. Once your movie comes out, you’re going to be in demand and Hollywood is going to come calling again. Do you want to stay in the city or work out there? Do you want to do both? If you do, then we could keep the apartment here and buy a house in LA.”
“Johnny, I can’t…,” Kendall said as the walls threatened to close in.
“You don’t have to make any decisions, not right away. See what offers come and decide what you want to do. There’s no rush, and I’ll be there the whole way.” Johnny held him tight, and Kendall huffed as he tried to let the stress slide away.
The door buzzer sounded, and Johnny got up. Kendall heard him answer it and then the door close. Johnny returned a few minutes later and returned to the bedroom, handing Kendall a thick package. “It’s from Sal.”
“I know,” Kendall whispered, making no move to open it.
“Like I said, take your time.” Johnny left the room and returned to the kitchen. Kendall set the package on his dresser and finished unpacking. He wasn’t ready to look at anything like that, not yet.
THE following evening, Kendall was undeniably excited. “If you don’t stop pacing, I’m going to have to tie you down,” Johnny said and then grabbed him as he walked by the sofa. “You know, I could tie you down and have my way with you.” Kendall squirmed and tried to get away. “Hey, it’s me,” Johnny said in a whisper and began gently stroking Kendall’s back.
“Sorry,” Kendall said. “Sometimes I forget, and little things make me remember what happened. I know you were just playing, but for a second I was back there.”
“No, I’m the one who should be sorry,” Johnny told him. “Go on and get ready. I made dinner reservations, but I think we can show up early.” Johnny patted his butt. “I’ll be right behind you.”
Kenda
ll walked to the bedroom, and Johnny closed the lid on his laptop. Kendall stripped out of his comfortable “lounge around the house” clothes and pulled out a pair of dress pants and a crisp shirt. Johnny joined him, and Kendall finished dressing and then watched Johnny. “Do you have any idea how handsome you are?” Kendall asked quietly and then stood up and adjusted Johnny’s collar.
“It’s why you love me. Because I’m cute,” Johnny said, giving him a jaunty smile.
“No. I love you because you’re you. I’m hot for your bod because you’re cute,” Kendall corrected with a wink. “You look great,” he said, stepping back a bit.
“So do you,” Johnny said with a grin and then looked over at the dresser. The unopened envelope still sat there. Then he returned his gaze to Kendall, and Kendall walked toward the bedroom door. “Are you going to look at them?”
“Eventually,” Kendall said with a shrug and then he headed for the door. He didn’t want to look at the envelope or think about being in front of a house full of people. He wasn’t sure he could ever do that again. What if that part of his life was over? That thought scared him almost as much.
“I wasn’t pushing, and I told you to take your time.” Johnny was right behind him. “Give yourself time. Sal knows you aren’t going to get back to him right away.”
Kendall nodded. “What if I’m never ready? What if I can’t do it anymore?”
“I know you can,” Johnny said. “You can do anything you set your mind to. Now let’s leave that for a while and go to dinner and then the theater. I bet as soon as you sit down and the overture starts, you’ll wish you were up on stage with everyone else.”
“Is that what you’re doing? Theater therapy?” Kendall asked as he grabbed an umbrella. It had been raining all day, and while it seemed to have stopped for the moment, he wasn’t taking any chances.
“I guess that depends,” Johnny answered, and Kendall tilted his head slightly waiting for more. “On whether it works.” Johnny chuckled. “Let’s go.”
Johnny guided him out the door and locked the apartment behind them. They descended the stairs and stepped out on the street. Kendall realized this was the first time he’d been outside since they got home. The rain had made everything seem fresh, the scent of the city muted. Kendall stood still and took a deep breath, closing his eyes.
“I bet it’s good to be out,” Johnny said softly.
Kendall nodded. “Yeah, it is,” he said. “I think I’ve been a bit of a fool.”
“No, just a bit unnerved, but I knew you’d feel better once you went out to places that were familiar.”
“So where are we going for dinner?” Kendall asked, intrigued.
“No place fancy. Just the little Italian place we always go to. But I bet they’ll be glad to see you,” Johnny said with a smile. They opened their umbrellas as the rain began again and slowly walked the couple blocks to the restaurant.
Of course Johnny was right. As soon as they walked in, the couple who owned the place hurried over, and they were both hugged and kissed. “It isn’t every day we have a movie star in the place,” Mrs. Gianetti said as she fussed over them.
“He’s not a movie star yet,” Johnny countered before leaning close to the short rotund woman who’d obviously spent years eating her own incredible cooking. “I don’t want him to get a big head,” Johnny stage-whispered, and Mrs. Gianetti laughed warmly before taking Kendall’s arm and guiding him toward the best table in the place.
“You’re way too nice to get that way,” she said to Kendall as she patted him gently on the arm. They took their seats, and Kendall expected to be handed a menu. “You two just sit, and I’ll cook for you.” She smiled and then bustled away. Within minutes they were poured glasses of white wine.
“Feeling better?” Johnny asked with a grin. “I knew familiar places and people would be just the ticket.”
“Now who’s getting a big head?” Kendall quipped, and Johnny squeezed his knee under the table. “Okay, I do feel better and I’m glad you’re right.” Kendall looked around at the familiar little restaurant, seeing the older couple in the corner with the bowls of what had to be minestrone. They were a fixture in the place, always eating the same thing, and from their expressions, having the same argument they always had. The servers they always saw waited on the tables and talked with the patrons like old friends, which most of them were. “It’s good to be home.”
“It’s good that you’re home,” Mrs. Gianetti said, surprising him, but he didn’t start the way he had the past few days. “It’s always good when you come home again.” She smiled at Kendall. “We really missed our darling boys.” Kendall thought there might have been a tear in her eye for a second. “I’m sending over some nice antipasti and then a little pesto, and for you I’m making my special veal and then a bit of tiramisu. I made some of Johnny’s favorite, and there’s just a bit left for you.” She patted Kendall’s shoulder. “Not to worry, I will not overfeed you so you can keep your movie star looks.” She pretended to swoon, and Kendall laughed, a deep sincere laugh he hadn’t felt in a while.
“Thank you,” Kendall said. “That’s just what I needed. Good home cooking. We’re going out to see my mother soon, and she’ll feed me until I can’t move.”
“Well, this will tide you over until your mama can feed you properly. I promise,” she said and then hurried away. The servers brought a plate of appetizers, and then the scent of rich pesto filled the entire restaurant. Kendall smelled one of his favorites well before their plates arrived. Thankfully, Mrs. Gianetti kept her word and didn’t make the portions enormous, just huge, and Kendall dug in, forgetting about his diet for one night.
“Maybe tomorrow we can go to the gym for a few hours,” Johnny said as they ate.
Kendall leaned close and lowered his voice. “I think we’ll need to do that for the next week to work this off,” he said. But every calorie was worth it, and Kendall would walk the treadmill, ride a bike, use the elliptical, and lift weights until he couldn’t see straight for food like this. “But who cares?”
Mr. Gianetti stopped by the table and talked for a few minutes. He was the polar opposite of his wife, tall and thin with a shock of white hair. “How was Hollywood?”
Kendall laughed. “Fine, Mr. G. In some ways as fake as you’d expect, but by and large, the people were wonderful.” He thought about Juan and Barbara, both of whom had turned out as good friends. Both of them had called at least twice since he got home to see how he was. Even Lyman had turned out to be a much more upstanding guy than their first meeting had indicated. “But there’s no place like home.” Kendall did his best Judy Garland, and Mr. Gianetti laughed.
“I did commercials when I was young and handsome,” he told them.
“You did one commercial for hair tonic,” his wife teased as she brought plates to the table. She motioned to one of the servers, and their pasta bowls were cleared before she set plates down in front of each of them. “That was before I met him, but I remembered the commercial. That’s why I agreed to go out with him.” She glanced at her husband and giggled. “Sometimes I still see him like that. Young, a real looker, with scads of dark hair, standing in nothing but a towel in front of the mirror.” She grinned. “Then I wake up and wonder who the old man is in my bed.” She scooted away with her husband right behind her, both of them laughing until the kitchen door cut off their mirth.
Kendall’s laughter shifted to a smile that lasted a long time. He sighed for no reason other than sheer contentment. With their dinners before them, veal in a richly scented sauce that made Kendall’s pasta-filled stomach rumble as if he hadn’t eaten in days, they finished their wine, and Mr. G brought fresh glasses and poured them a rich red wine. They ate and talked for the rest of the meal, and by the time they were done, neither of them felt much like moving.
“I’ll have dessert for you in just a few minutes,” Mrs. G told them.
“I can’t eat another bite,” Kendall told her.
“Th
en I’ll make it to go for you,” she said and hurried away, returning a few minutes later with a small container in a bag for each of them.
“Thank you so much,” Kendall said as he stood up and hugged Mrs. G. “You have no idea how much this meant.”
She hugged him back and then stepped away. “Go on with you,” she said and guided them toward the door. They were both on the street before they realized they had never been given a bill.
“I’ll wait for you,” Kendall said, and Johnny went back inside. He came out a few minutes later.
“They wouldn’t take anything,” Johnny said, and Kendall nodded, not surprised.
“Of course they wouldn’t,” Kendall said as they started back toward the apartment. It had stopped raining, but they were careful on the wet pavement. “Mrs. G once said she loved Abba. I don’t know how that came up, but it did. I’ll see if I can get them tickets to Mamma Mia. She’ll be thrilled.” They arrived at their building, and Kendall waited in the lobby while Johnny raced upstairs to put the food away. After he came back down, they hailed a cab and made it to the theater five minutes before the curtain rose.
Kendall’s contact had managed to get them good seats, so they were right down front. They settled in, and Kendall relaxed as he waited. The overture began, the curtain rose, and Kendall spent the next two and a half hours laughing so hard his sides ached, and then he laughed some more. At the end of the performance, Kendall was the first person on his feet, clapping and grinning as the actors took their bows. The cast did one more quick number, took a final bow, and then the curtain came down for the final time. Kendall gathered his things, and they waited for the others to filter out before walking toward the exits.
“So did it work?” Johnny asked with a grin.
“Yes,” Kendall said. “You were right. I’m energized and ready to read through scores and figure out what I want to do next,” he declared as they stepped out into a throng of people gathered by the sidewalk. Members of the cast were accepting donations for Equity Fights AIDS, and Kendall dropped a bill into one of the buckets.