Easy Does It Twice

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Easy Does It Twice Page 19

by Gianni Holmes


  “I don’t get it, Mr. Moreau. Yesterday you were singing a different tune. Now today you’ve changed the song altogether. Well, it’s out of my hands. The disciplinary committee has already been apprised of the situation, and his name is one that we’ll be dealing with. Rest assured, his behavior during your substitution isn’t the sole reason he is being brought before the committee. Before your incident, Oliver has had a long list of infractions. There are only so many detentions and suspensions that we can give before taking serious action. It’s out of your control.”

  “I ask you to reconsider, sir,” I told him. “He’s a child who needs help more than anything. I was wrong for not inquiring about the circumstance of the student in question before I brought him in.”

  “It’s a little too late for the regrets, Mr. Moreau. I do believe you have a class coming up in the next ten minutes, don’t you?”

  I read his message loud and clear. I was dismissed. Disappointed that I had failed Gordon, I moved towards the door to let myself out of the office.

  “Mr. Moreau.”

  I turned to Mr. McLean, hopeful that he had changed his mind. “Yes, sir?”

  For a few seconds, he just stared at me as though mulling over what he was trying to say. “I’ve no interest whatsoever in what you do in your personal time,” he said, weighing his words. “I truly do not want to know. Our school is founded on strong moral principles, and we’d like it to remain the same. Your contract stipulates that it can be terminated with immediate effect if it’s deemed that you have violated or sullied the reputation of this school in any form. Please see to it that you don’t. Your job depends on it.”

  There was no use in pretending I didn’t understand his threat. The man was threatening my job because of my sexuality. Yet, he was mindful of doing it in such a diplomatic way that I would have no solid evidence that he was referring to my preference in a partner. I couldn’t say I was shocked. Not after experiencing firsthand how strongly Eric had felt about Gordon and me being in love. Could Gordon be right and this town was not ready for us?

  I nodded, and without a word left the office to head for my next class. I was full of worry and now undecided about my fate here in this country. It was my goal to end up with a permanent teaching position on staff once my two-year tenure ended. Up until this minute, I’d have thought I had a good shot at being re-hired, but now I had to pause and think about it. The principal carried a lot of clout in this school, and if he didn’t want me to continue with the school, it would be quite easy enough to get rid of me.

  If I lost my job, I would have no access to Gordon. Trying to find another teaching job that would sponsor me may take a long time to come through. More than likely, I’d also have to return to France while the paperwork was being processed. I couldn’t leave Gordon now after everything. For the first time, I had a shot with a great guy. He also needed me around to center him as much as I needed him. He made me feel valuable while I was getting there on my own.

  The rest of the day went by slowly. I couldn’t wait for it to end, and when it finally did, I had only half an hour to grade papers before I had to go to the community center. I tried calling Gordon to find out how he was doing and if he had spoken to Oliver yet, but he didn’t answer. I decided to leave my car parked at the school and walk the short distance to the community center, so I could clear my head a bit. I needed to concentrate on this play. I had secured an opening night which was still about a month away. We needed the time to work on everything from the stage, props, and costumes.

  The play was an original script I wrote. The original featured a gay male character and was modeled off Oliver Twist. Given the nature of the play and the kids, I had decided at the last minute to change it. At times I wished I hadn’t but knew I wouldn’t have received the support I now had.

  Practice went well. Charlie was coming into her own and chatting up other kids who were a part of our production. She was incredibly useful and insightful. Not only did she plunge into her small part with enthusiasm, but she also supported the others. I also learned that she had great ideas but was usually too timid or soft-spoken to voice them.

  As usual, being a part of the drama production brought me to life, and I was able to forget about the problems that had nagged me throughout the day. The kids made my play come alive, and I was moved by their efforts to get it right. I had to still correct stage directions, especially getting them to project to the audience, but everyone was fitting into their new characters well. I’d challenged them to stick to their roles once they entered the auditorium we used to practice, and which we would set up for the night of the play. At one point I had thought of making the admission free, but then changed to a five-dollar cost that could be handed over to the community center when we were through, to help to further advance the community theater.

  “Another amazing rehearsal, guys,” I encouraged them at the end. “Keep up the good work.”

  The best part for me about them working on the play was seeing how they transformed. In the beginning, there had been skirmishes, but those had been squashed by the need to work together. I didn’t even need to point out anymore how valuable each character was, regardless of the role they played.

  “Mr. Moreau.”

  I shook off my thoughts as Charlie ran up to me. She was smiling, something Gordon would be happy to see. Now if only things would work out between him and Oliver.

  “Yes, Charlie?”

  “My dad’s supposed to pick me up,” she answered. “But I’m getting a lift with friends, and we may stop for a bite to eat on the way home. I'm trying to call him, but his phone is off. Can you let him know please if you’re still around when he drops by?”

  “Sure thing.”

  “Thanks, sir.”

  She ran off before I could even tell her she was welcome. Seeing the twinkle in her eyes and the pep in her step was short of amazing. I glanced at my watch and noticed it was already six thirty. While waiting for Gordon to drop by, I climbed onto the stage and started reciting lines from Macbeth, one of my favorite Shakespearean plays.

  The second Gordon entered the auditorium I knew. I could feel his energy. Glancing over my shoulder, I smiled at him. He smiled back and approached the stage slowly. His smile didn’t fully reach his eyes though, and that bothered me. I wanted back the Gordon who had been making great strides in our relationship. He looked exhausted, with lines on his face. I bet he didn’t get much sleep last night. He hadn’t stayed over, and after frantically having sex, he’d returned to his place, leaving me feeling alone. I wanted more from him, but how selfish of me to even ask about us in a time like this. We hadn’t been dating for long either, so we could wait. My heart was impatient though.

  “Hey there, handsome,” I greeted him, extending a hand to boost him up onto the stage with me. He didn’t hesitate but took the outstretched hand. With both our strengths combined, we managed to pull him up onto the stage in one smooth motion. I didn’t let him go until he was face to face with me. I loved him so goddamn much it hurt to think of a future without him.

  “Hi, where’s everyone?” he asked.

  “They already left,” I answered, taking his other hand into mine. “Charlie got a lift with some friends from here. They are stopping to get food then they’ll drop her home.”

  His shoulders visibly relaxed at this announcement. “Great. She’s finally making friends and being active again. That’s thanks to you and what you’ve been doing here. I know you look out for her because she’s my kid.”

  “She’s going to be alright,” I assured him.

  “Yeah, it’s just Ollie I have to worry about.” He sighed, and I wanted to take his burden and work it out for him. I knew what I would do in his situation, but I wouldn’t force the issue. Oliver was his child, and the decision was his solely to make.

  “Have you decided if you’re going to talk to him?”

  “I have to talk to him,” he answered. “I have to. I just don’t know what I
’m going to say yet.”

  I didn’t want him to see my disappointment, so I tried a smile. “I’m sure the right words will come at the right time.”

  “Now you’re low key upset with me, aren’t you?”

  “Not upset. Maybe a little disappointment. I want to have an open relationship with you, Gordon. I want to be free to hold your hand and kiss you in public. I don’t want to pretend we are just friends, but one thing my experience with your friend has taught me is to understand where you are coming from. So, I do understand the caution with which you are proceeding. Hell, I may not even have a job soon."

  His eyes widened, and a look of panic crossed his face. “What do you mean? I thought your contract was open for a year and then renewable after.”

  “It is but there are also clauses that indicate situations in which I can be fired.”

  He scoffed. “You’re a great teacher. Why would they want to get rid of you?”

  I didn’t answer, just stared back at him. He would get the answer soon enough. “They can’t do that!” he blurted out. “That’s discrimination because of your sexuality.”

  “It’s easy to get rid of a teacher you don’t want around. Just find a fault and constantly nag about it.”

  “Would you have to return to France if that happened?”

  “Yeah, I would.”

  Gordon’s hand crushed mine. “I won’t let that happen. You’re not going anywhere.”

  “It won’t be your call, Gordon.” I didn’t want us to have false hopes, but I understood his fear because I harbored the same. Neither of us was willing to let go if I lost my job.

  “You don’t get it, Beau,” he said. “I can’t lose you. Before that happens, I’d marry you.”

  I gasped at his words. “Don’t be ridiculous. This is all just hypothetical anyway. I’m sure I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.”

  Still, I was touched by his words even though they had only been prompted because he was caught up in the moment. It wasn’t a real proposal, and yet the word was on the tip of my tongue to tell him yes. His eyes looked uncertain, and his mouth worked, but no words were spoken. I didn’t want to hear him tell me that he had spoken in haste.

  I did the one thing I knew how to shut him up. I cupped the back of his head and kissed him.

  Chapter 26

  Gordon

  I can’t lose you. Before that happens, I’d marry you. Two days after that conversation with Beau which had stunned me, I was still mulling over my words. They held an interest for me because the more I thought about it, the more I realized that a part of me was serious. If Jackson fired Beau, I would marry him the next day for him to avoid having to return to France. My need to be around him and keep that little piece of happiness I’d found with him, would rival any fears I still harbored about being outed.

  In the kitchen, preparing the meal so I could share dinner with my two kids tonight, I thought about what it would be like for Beau to be around. I imagined him sitting at the table, drinking beer while I prepared the meal. That was our routine back at his place when we worked up an appetite during the nights. He’d sit, prop his feet up, tell me about his day, and I listened while I made us sandwiches or a salad. Mostly both together.

  I frowned as I thought of how Ollie would react if I invited Beau over for dinner. He would probably shut himself inside his bedroom and not come out until Beau had left. I still couldn’t fathom that my son was struggling with his identity and I didn’t know. I’d finally listened to Beau’s advice, hence the elaborate dinner I had mustered up tonight. I was taking one giant leap to open up to my son about my struggles as a gay teen. Hopefully, after I spoke with him, he would learn from my own mistakes and not repeat them. I wished someone would have counseled me twenty-one years ago to be true to myself.

  “Dad, need any help?” Charlie breezed into the kitchen, in high spirits. Thank God for her. Without her, the house would have been a mausoleum of thoughts and unspoken fears. It was surprising that this child, who had been the most broken and withdrawn after her mother’s death, was now the one who brought solace with her.

  “Can you set the table, please?” I asked her. “I’ve already laid out the utensils.”

  She frowned at me. “Are we expecting company?”

  “Nope. Just us. Why?”

  She shrugged. “You’re going through all this effort.” She paused then added, “And I know you’re seeing someone.”

  Once upon a time, hearing those words coming from her mouth would have caused me to drop the dish I was holding. I retained a firm grip on the container and smiled at her. That was when I knew I was ready to do this. I was prepared to confide in my kids. They wouldn’t be like Eric. They knew how much I loved them, and they would understand. They had to understand. I could see myself sharing my first beer with Ollie at the end of dinner and enlightening him. This could be the catalyst that would heal our relationship. I hoped.

  “Well, are you going to tell me about her?” Charlie asked, frowning even harder.

  “After dinner,” I replied, not bothering to pretend I didn’t know what she was talking about. “Go set the table, then ask your brother to come down.”

  I could see from the mutinous line of her mouth that she wanted to argue, but in the end, she turned and did what I asked. I finished up the meal and retrieved the roasted chicken and garlic bread which were warming in the oven. Charlie wasn’t in the dining room when I brought out the platters, but she had done a splendid job with the table. I had just laid out everything when I heard her dismounting the stairs.

  “I don’t think Ollie will be joining us,” she said quietly, entering the dining room.

  I glanced up at her. “He said that?”

  She nodded. “I think he’s more disappointed about not graduating than he lets on.”

  “Let me go talk to him.”

  I mounted the stairs, taking them two at a time, but when I reached his bedroom, I paused to give myself some time to think. The last thing I wanted to do was to approach him in a confrontational manner. If there was anything I’d learned in these past eight months of dealing with him, it was that confrontational didn’t work with him. It was a sure way to come to loggerheads with him.

  I knocked on the door. “Ollie?” When he didn’t respond, I considered it well within my rights to enter. I pushed the door half-open and stood just inside. He was sitting at his computer desk playing a car racing game.

  “I already told Charlie I’m not hungry,” he said without even looking up. “I’ll eat something later.”

  “Son, I’d appreciate it if you come downstairs and we have dinner together,” I told him, then stressed, “As a family. We haven’t done that in a while. Not since your mother passed.”

  His back stiffened, ramrod straight. “Why don’t you say it? She didn’t just pass. She committed suicide because she couldn’t stand us. How dare we try to go on without her?”

  I was too stunned to respond at the same time. Was he being sarcastic? It sounded like it, but I could never tell when he was always downright rude. He had never spoken poorly of his mother though, so that was enough to give me pause. He had loved his mother, and they had been close. He would have been more likely to tell Barbara he was gay instead of me.

  The color drained from my face, and a shiver ran down my spine. Had he told her, and her unfavorable response had contributed to the boy who now sat before me? The memory of the night Ollie had come home drunk, in tears, broken and irrational hit me in the gut.

  “No! It’s not. She’s dead. She won’t come back. She’s dead and it’s all my fault. It’s my fault she’s gone. I’m sorry.”

  At the time, I had thought his ramblings to be that of a drunk, but what if that night he had been trying to tell me something more? Had I failed to listen once again?

  “Ollie, please.” I wasn’t beyond begging. For God’s sake, this was my son. What kind of reconciliation could there be between us if we couldn’t even have a few minutes toge
ther at the dinner table? “I want you to sit with us. Charlie wants that too. It’s time we started acting like a family again. We’ll be waiting for you to join us.”

  I sighed when he didn’t respond but kept staring at the screen of his computer. I could rant at him, march over to shut down his computer and demand that he descended the stairs. I could even physically ensure that he had his ass on one of the chairs around the table but what would that solve? Nothing. He had to come to us on his own.

  I rejoined Charlie who had taken a seat at the table. She glanced up when she saw me enter. “Is he coming down?”

  “Yes, he will.” I tried to sound confident, but my voice was more questioning. Charlie insisted on sharing, and that was all for the best since I was disoriented. After dishing out the three plates, Charlie took her seat, and we waited. Time passed and still no Ollie. Disappointment coursed through me and I admitted defeat. Save returning upstairs and dragging Ollie down, he pretty much had made himself clear.

  “Let’s eat,” I told Charlie, intent on not making this all about Ollie. I’d made that mistake once already, giving my son all the attention because he was always in trouble. Charlie had suffered for it and had become a shell of her former self. Not again.

  Still, every morsel of food that I forked into my mouth was tasteless. I had to work hard in chewing and swallowing, activities that should come across as second nature. Ollie’s dish across from me at the table mocked me. I had lost my son and had no idea if, at this stage, I could have done anything to get him back.

  I was so caught up in my thoughts I didn’t hear the footsteps coming down the stairs at first.

  “Dad!” Charlie said, her eyes twinkling with relief.

  Ollie had changed his mind.

  I half-rose from my seat to acknowledge him when he entered the dining room.

  “You’re such a fucking liar!” he screeched, waving his hand at me. “How could you do this? You’ve been lying to us our whole lives!”

 

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