Justify My Love

by Maria Carter

  "Sounds great. I'll see you then."

  They hung up, and Vanessa ran a hand through her mussed hair. To exercise or not to exercise? Even though she'd gotten plenty last night, it wasn't the kind that would help her stay in shape for dancing. So she decided to devote half an hour to jazzercise and half an hour to getting ready.

  Once she worked up a good sweat, Vanessa high-tailed it to the shower. She tweezed her eyebrows, blow dried her hair, and threw on a plaid skirt and white tank top. A knock sounded on the door as she finished her makeup. She dabbed her lips with a tissue, grabbed her purse, and jogged to the door in strappy sandals to meet the former mother-in-law of the love of her life.

  "Hi, Sharon. Sorry for the wait. I was just finishing up."

  They hugged and climbed in Sharon's sedan.

  "I just need to pick up a few groceries," Sharon said as they pulled out of the driveway. "Is there anywhere in particular you need to go?"

  "Actually, I was wondering if there was anywhere to go for a manicure around here."

  "There's a nail salon in Wal-Mart."

  Vanessa's heart stopped for a moment. People went to Wal-Mart for cheap, non-locally grown produce and extremely shrinkable cotton t-shirts. Could she trust her nails to them? She glanced down at her hand. She supposed she'd have to. They looked awful. She sensed Sharon's gaze on her, and Vanessa smiled.

  "You really can get everything at Wal-Mart," she commented, hoping her momentary disdain had gone unnoticed.

  "Do you want to do that while I shop?"

  "No, actually, I'd love to treat you to one," Vanessa decided suddenly. "We'll have a real afternoon out."

  Sharon's eyes lit up as she pulled into the Wal-Mart parking lot. "I'd love that. I haven't done something like that since...in a while."

  Vanessa glanced over at the older woman, and then reached out to squeeze her arm. She'd thought sometimes about how she'd survive without her mother, but she hadn't given much thought as to how her mother would cope if anything happened to her. Sharon was still grieving. Everyone who had known Angela was. Her thoughts flitted to Eric as they stepped out of the car and headed into the store. She bEriceved he loved her. He wasn't the type to commit if he wasn't ready. But a piece of his life would always be missing.

  "I could even invite Tom, if you'd like," Vanessa suggested.

  The two had seemed to hit it off the night before, and Sharon's face lit up once again as she took a cart from the store entrance.

  "That sounds lovely."

  Chapter Thirteen

  Vanessa followed Sharon down the spice aisle. They were almost done, which meant it was time to call Tom and have him meet them for lunch. She found his name in her list of contacts and hit send. He answered after four rings.

  "Hello?" His voice was groggy.

  "Hey, you're still asleep?"

  Vanessa glanced at Sharon's watch. It was noon. And she thought she'd been getting lazy.

  "Just napping."

  "Well, I'm at Wal-Mart with Sharon. We were wondering if you wanted to grab lunch and get a manicure."

  "Where?"

  "Lunch at...Tiff's?" she guessed. Sharon nodded her agreement. "And manicure at Wal-Mart."

  She bit her lip and turned away from Sharon, waiting for her best friend's all-too-predictable reaction. There was a long pause, and then: "You're shitting me."

  "Just try it. Could be good."

  "I just got mine done. You know. At a salon. But I'll come along."

  "Great. We'll pick you up."

  "No," Tom answered quickly. "No, I'll meet you there. It's just that little diner across the street from Bommer's shop, right?"

  "Yeah, that's right. Is everything okay?"

  "Everything's great."

  Vanessa heard something that sounded suspiciously like a male voice talking low in the background. Her eyes narrowed as she followed Sharon to the produce section.

  "Tom—"

  "Gotta go. See you soon." He hung up.

  "Is everything okay?" Sharon asked.

  "I think so. He'll meet us."

  "Great." The older woman beamed.

  Vanessa smiled until Sharon turned away, then she frowned at her phone. Somehow, Tom had found the only openly-gay man within a fifty mile radius and had quite probably just had some hot, lunchtime sex. She knew he wasn't one to take things slow, but damn. On the plus side, it meant he was finally leaving Bommer alone.

  But the situation nagged at her. Tom usually didn't care about divulging details, no matter if he was still lying next to his short-term partner. Vanessa felt a little left out. She slipped the phone back in her purse.

  Maybe he was still mad at her. Or maybe this person was important. But Tom had never had an important person. She had important people; he had great sex with quasi-famous lovers. In response to a sudden craving, Vanessa grabbed a carton of strawberries and tossed them into the cart. In response to her frustration, she did so unceremoniously.

  "So Eric told us you were planning to stay here. With him."

  Vanessa smiled, back in the perfect present. She liked that Eric was telling people. It showed he really did want this, and he really did care for her. But it also made the pressure to tell Julia greater. She knew the girl should know and she should know soon.

  "I am," Vanessa said.

  Sharon glanced at her as they piled groceries onto the conveyor belt at the checkout line and smiled at Vanessa's obvious elation.

  "I'm glad," the older woman said.

  "But we haven't told Julia," Vanessa said quickly.

  She swiped her card for the few things she'd bought, and the pair took the bags to Sharon's car.

  "You still haven't?"

  Sharon's tone was neutral, but Vanessa's excitement faltered. She knew the fact they hadn't told Eric's daughter about their decision could look like a lack of commitment from the outside. Even to herself, it didn't feel completely real yet. Until Julia was in on the secret, she and Eric would still feel like a dream.

  "It's not a bad thing," Sharon said quickly. "You should be sure."

  "We are," Vanessa said. "We just haven't found the right time."

  "Well, don't worry about timing too much. Julia is a nice girl, and she likes you. It might just take a while for her to get used to sharing Eric's spotlight."

  "We're planning to tell her tonight."

  Tom was already in Tiff's parking lot when they pulled in. He sported a Burberry shirt, Calvin Klein jeans, and the same Armani jacket from the previous day. He'd just woken up, but he'd had time to shower, change, and beat them there. He must have had his date in the motel room with him, but there was no date to be found. Decorum—even the little Tom had—stated that he should bring the guy to breakfast or brunch, or whatever it was for them rather than kick him out on his ass. It was a quick cleanup, even for him.

  Vanessa gave him a curious look, but neither of them mentioned the elephant in the room as they accompanied Sharon inside.

  Vanessa's Wal-Mart manicure came out better than she'd expected, at half the cost of one in the city. It was just one more thing to love about Virginia. While she and Sharon's nails dried, the troupe sat in comfortable chairs and let their feet soak. Tom was once again entertaining the masses with tales of the high life.

  "...and then one of the Olsen twins—I can never tell them apart—tried getting me to go to an after party with her, and I told her I'd love to, of course, because I always think it's obvious that my Versace coat is out of the closet. Well, then she tried to kiss me, and I told her I was gay, and she ended up hitting on another guy who turned out to be one of my brief boyfriends. The girl could not catch a break..."

  Vanessa closed her eyes and smiled, resting her head back against the chair. "Brief boyfriend" was Tom's term for any of the numerous underwear models he'd dated—briefly. For the first time since his surprise appearance, she was really happy to have him around. She'd missed him. She would miss him.

  The nail technician was starting on Vanessa
's feet when her phone vibrated in her pocket. Shit. Vanessa tried to maneuver herself without jarring her toes or ruining her nails. The technician watched her struggle for a moment, then reached in her pocket and got it for her. She hadn't said a word the entire appointment, but she was getting a nice tip.

  Vanessa gingerly held the phone up to her ear. "Hello?"

  "Hi, Vanessa."

  Vanessa's smile faded at the tension in Eric's voice.

  "Hey, is everything okay?"

  "Yeah. Yeah, everything's fine. I'm fine, at least. Jordan hurt himself, though, so I won't be getting out of here until late. Do you think you could pick up Julia from practice for me? I'll drop the truck off at the house and have one of the guys drive me back."

  "Yes, of course. Is he okay?"

  "Should be. With any luck, it's just stitches. Thanks, Vanessa. I love you."

  "No problem. Love you, too."

  Vanessa set her phone down on the armrest. They'd finally said it out loud, and it had been that easy. As if it were something they said everyday. Because it was something they felt everyday. She was being pampered, she was with her friends, and she was in love. It couldn't get any better. She suddenly realized said friends had stopped talking, and she glanced over to find Sharon and Tom staring at her. Tom looked skeptical. Sharon looked almost as happy as she felt.

  "He's going to be late. I need to pick up Julia," she said.

  It was the only explanation she'd give them. Tom didn't approve, and it annoyed her. Sharon was almost too happy to have a daughter figure in her life again. Vanessa didn't want to feel guilty or pressured; she didn't want to feel anything except the pure bliss that came with being in love.

  So she closed her eyes again, choosing to stay in her happy, quiet calm for the rest of the appointment.

  When they were in the parking lot again, Vanessa got her things out of Sharon's car and hugged the older woman goodbye. She wanted Tom to take her back to Eric's so they could catch up. And so she could interrogate him.

  She plopped her bags in the back of his flashy rental and sat in the passenger's seat. For a moment, she felt like she was back in New York, about to come home from a trip with her favorite shopping buddy. It only took one look through the windshield to remember this wasn't the neon-and-concrete city that had helped raise her, but the small town that had stolen her heart. She smiled, then dropped the soft expression and turned to Tom.

  "Answers. Now," she demanded.

  "No."

  Vanessa was stung. There was actually something Tom didn't feel comfortable telling her. For the first time since meeting Eric, she began to realize the gravity of her decision to stay here. She was far from home and Tom was keeping secrets.

  "Things don't have to change just because I'm moving," she told him. "Not unless you make them."

  Tom glanced at her and frowned. He seemed serious. He hardly ever seemed serious.

  "It's not that, Vanessa. It's just...tricky."

  "Tricky like...a hooker?" She was grasping at straws.

  Tom rolled his eyes. "God, Vanessa."

  "I just don't understand."

  "I know. I'm sorry. He's just...not out. And I really like him. I'll tell you someday."

  "I probably don't even know him."

  "No, you probably don't."

  Vanessa stared at him, hoping he'd crack or she'd suddenly become psychic. She didn't know what was eating at her more—the fact her best friend wouldn't confide in her or the identity of his mystery man. But she knew Tom, and she knew he wouldn't budge. He looked over, and he must have seen something in her face because he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze.

  "Sorry, Van."

  "It's okay. I guess Eric and I aren't much easier to understand."

  Tom parked in the driveway. Eric's truck was already there. Vanessa glanced at the clock on Tom's dash. 3:00 pm. She had another hour and a half before she had to pick up Julia.

  "Do you want to hang out for a little while?"

  "I need to be somewhere."

  "Of course you do."

  "I'll stop by later to help you babysit. I promise."

  Vanessa smiled and rolled her eyes as she grabbed her bags and exited the vehicle. She let herself into the house as Tom drove off. Love was in the air. And it was contagious.

  Tom headed straight to Bommer's shop. Last night had been more amazing than he'd wanted it to be.

  Tom could be a queen. He'd be the first to admit it. Manhattan gays had more freedom to be eccentric, to experiment with gender identity, to decide what they wanted their version of the controversy that was living to be. He was sassy, confident, and just a little callous.

  In a judgmental world, he couldn't afford to open himself up to people.

  Bommer was different. He didn't want to know himself. He was ashamed, he was vulnerable, and this made him more honest and endearing than anyone Tom had come across in his time as an openly gay man. Bommer was a mixture of real, dig-in-the-dirt man and mystery. Tom was hooked.

  Not that he would admit it.

  He had to bring his thoughts and his car to a screeching halt when he turned into the B.S. Service Center parking lot. A dark-haired man in a white coupe nearly sideswiped him as he tore out of the parking lot. Tom parked his car, gave himself a quick once-over in the rearview mirror, and walked through the open door into the waiting area.

  No one was behind the desk, but the door leading into the garage was open. He peeked in the back, careful not to brush his jacket against anything greasy. Bommer was there, but he wasn't working. He was standing over a tray of tools, facing away from Tom. His body was tense.

  "What was that about?" he asked, still standing in the doorway.

  Bommer jumped and turned around, immediately hiding every sign of discomfort he'd been showing when he thought he was in private. That simple defense mechanism was enough to make Tom's heart twinge. He'd only known the man for two days and one amazing night, but he was the one person Bommer didn't have to hide from. He seemed to realize this, and the façade fell away.

  "That was a breakup."

  Tom frowned, confused and upset. As much as he hated to admit it, he was hurt. He'd thought Bommer was alone, that he'd been the one to step in and let him be himself. But all this time he'd been spoken for.

  "You have a boyfriend?"

  He tried not to sound injured; he tried to call upon the overconfident, nonchalant New Yorker power he'd been pondering just moments before. It wasn't coming as easily as he needed it to.

  "I don't know what we were."

  Bommer's gaze kept flitting to the door. Tom glanced behind him. Bommer was listening for the sound of footsteps, scared someone would hear. Tom took a deep breath and kept his voice quiet.

  "Why didn't you tell me?"

  The other man's eyes flashed. "Look, this isn't easy for me. You were the one who said it couldn't be more than a one time thing. What does it matter?"

  Tom didn't answer. He couldn't. He couldn't bring himself to admit he felt something. Bommer continued. "It wasn't working out anyway. He wasn't happy, and I...I put him through some things I shouldn't have."

  "Like what?"

  "Women, mostly. I was trying to..."

  "Keep up appearances."

  "Yeah. It's not fair to him. I'm at a point in my life where I need to decide if I'm going to be this—"

  "Gay."

  "Yes. Gay. Or if I'm going to settle down with a girl and play house."

  "And I guess you picked playing house."

  "No," Bommer answered quickly. "No, that's not it. That's not why I ended it."

  Tom hadn't felt this anxious in a long time. Bommer's blue eyes were fierce as they looked straight into his. Tom wanted the mechanic to say it was because he was falling for him, but at the same time he didn't want to hear it.

  Maybe Vanessa was right. Maybe in this crazy, backwards town love at first sight did exist. Tom was panicking, excited and terrified at the prospect, but his expres
sion remained calm. Bommer studied him. He suddenly felt—for the very first time—that maybe he wasn't as good at hiding his emotions as he thought.

  "You made me rethink things. That's all." Bommer told him.

  He'd said exactly the right thing—enough to let Tom know how he felt without scaring him away. He was too good to be true. Memories of the previous night crept into Tom's mind. He didn't know what he wanted long-term, but he knew what he wanted short-term.

  "So you still want to meet up tonight?"

  "Yeah, of course. The time I spend with you is the only time I feel like myself."

  "Weren't you able to be yourself with him?"

  "It was different. You like yourself. It makes me feel comfortable somehow. Me and him—we both just felt guilty. I wish I could be like you. I wish I could open up about it. I wish I could trust the people I care about to understand."

  "Your brother seems accepting."

  "Tolerant, I think. He wouldn't look at me the same."

  "I think it would just be a change. Like finding out a watch you love is Fossil and not Rolex. You might not usually like Fossil but if you like the watch, you like the watch. Only a super shallow person would put it back because of the brand. As long as it was actually a brand. You know."

  Bommer stared at him, and one corner of his mouth turned up. Tom was perfectly serious, but he realized Bommer had no idea what he was talking about. The fact he still smiled at him that way was impossibly sweet. Unlike Bommer, Tom had no appearances to keep. Bommer liked him. Tom liked Bommer.

  Now he just had to convince Bommer it was that simple.

  Vanessa pulled up to the gym doors at exactly 4:30 pm. Julia was waiting outside with one of her friends. She saw the familiar vehicle and skipped over to the passenger's side to toss her bag in the backseat and hop in.

  "Oh, hi, Vanessa. Where's Dad?"

  "He had to work late. I'm sure he'll make it back before you have to go to bed."

  "Oh. Did someone get hurt again? He had Grandma pick me up from school a few months ago because someone broke their arm. A machine broke down another time. Anyway, he says it's always a lot of paperwork. Was Grandma busy today?"