by Lynn VanDorn
The dock outside of an unnecessarily large rental house
Blue Lake, WI
They made sandwiches and ended up eating them while sitting on the dock. Tyler pulled up his jeans to mid-calf and dangled his feet in the water.
“I talked to my mom this morning,” Josh said. “Told her you and I were dating.”
Tyler nudged Josh’s leg. “Look at you, the dutiful son.”
“Not really. She called me while I was out running. Our pictures from yesterday are already circulating. A friend of my mom's sent her one because she recognized me.”
“Oh,” Tyler said. “Well, that's what we wanted. The pictures circulating, I mean.”
“Yeah, the plan seems to be working,” Josh agreed. “Didn’t stop her from trying to set me up with some guy in Hinsdale, though.”
Tyler looked up from his sandwich. “Really?”
“Yeah, the nephew of some woman she knows from temple. A doctor, apparently.”
“A Jewish doctor, huh? That sounds like a much better prospect than a temporary fake relationship with a currently unemployed actor.” He gave Josh an unconcerned, cocky grin, but his fingers picked restlessly at his sandwich, then threw part of the shredded crust into the lake.
“I am not going to fake break up with you over some guy I haven’t even met, if that's what you're insinuating.”
Tyler flicked Josh a glance, then went back to studying his now crust less turkey on whole wheat. “That’s a relief. It’s a little late for me to find a new boyfriend at this point.”
“Happy to be of service.”
Tyler threw a leer onto his face. “Oh, I’m more than happy to let you service me.” At Josh’s grunt of disgust, his leer morphed into a smirk. “You can always keep the doctor from the south ‘burbs in reserve, you know. Save him for later.”
Josh didn’t want to think about later. Not on this pretty day, sitting on the dock with this pretty boy. The wind ruffled his blue hair and Tyler brushed it out of his face. Josh found himself wanting to run his fingers through it. “I think I’ll pass.” Josh had dated enough doctors to staff a clinic and enough lawyers to start a practice to rival Chadwick and Chadwick. The last thing he needed was his mother setting him up with yet another “perfect man.”
Tyler shrugged, clearly not caring one way or the other, and took a bite of his sandwich.
“Mom wants me settled.” Josh found himself needing to fill the silence that stretched between them, the words coming out of his mouth before his brain had a chance to vet them. Then, once started, he couldn’t seem to stop. “Her greatest ambition is for me to find some nice, professional man, plan a wedding, have two kids, preferably through a surrogate, and buy a house in a suburb that's either Highland Park or within close proximity. As for my dad, well, he wants that for me, too, but… I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. He knows I’m gay, I had the whole big coming out conversation with my parents ages ago, but sometimes it’s like he pretends that I’m not. I know he does that with his friends. Maybe because it’s easier? He never says anything, but there’s this underlying current in every conversation I have with him that…”
Tyler stopped staring out at the lake and looked at him. “That what?”
That I’m not good enough and that I’ll never be good enough. “That I’m not the son he expected to have, I guess. Not that he’s ever said it to me in so many words.” Josh shoved the last bite of his sandwich in his mouth and thought while he chewed. “Our family is all about the passive-aggression. Except Rachel. She's some kind of recessive throwback. With me and my parents, though, it's all veiled insinuations and talking sideways around our issues. I think it's because we don't want to disappoint each other but are sure we will, anyway. You'll see for yourself at the wedding and then when my parents take me to dinner for my birthday.”
“You sound like a fun family,” Tyler said. “You know, if you think it's going to be a problem, I can bow out from your birthday dinner. I do have to attend the wedding, though.”
“No,” Josh said, “you're committed now. You know, you'll be the first man I've ever brought home to meet my parents. Well, except Ryan, and he doesn't really count, since they thought the only thing we were up to in my bedroom was studying.” Or maybe not, based on what his mother had said that morning. Josh decided to forget his mother had ever insinuated she’d known he and Ryan had been more than friends back then. It was too embarrassing to contemplate. He gave Tyler a little grin. “You probably don't count, either, since they already know you, too.”
Tyler blinked at him. “Josh, are you serious? You've never once brought a guy home to meet your parents? How is that even possible?”
“There’s been no one who seemed worthy of taking home,” Josh said.
Tyler looked indignant. “Oh,” he said. “You’re one of those.” He curled his lip.
“One of what?” Josh asked, baffled.
“I've seen it a million times, Mr. Stealth Gay. You find guys good enough to fuck, but not good enough to date. Or you date, but you never introduce him to your friends or family. When you go out, it's across town in places where no one knows you, and if you do meet someone you know, you pretend to just be friends with that cute boy who's half your age.” Tyler had torn the remainder of his sandwich into tiny pieces while saying this. Now he threw the mess into the lake, then scooted back, bringing his wet feet onto the dock.
“God, Tyler, project much? What did I do to piss you off this time?”
With no sandwich to destroy, Tyler ran his thumb over the uncovered stitches on his left arm.
Josh grabbed Tyler’s right hand and held it. “Stop that. And stop blaming me for shitty things I haven't done to you. I told a stranger in a phone store I was your boyfriend and let him take a picture of us, knowing he'd be posting it to the internet. You already know my family. And here's a depressing thought. Aside from Rachel, your brother is my closest friend. Rachel’s right. I have no social life. But what I'm getting at is that you know my friends and family already. Even if I wanted to keep you a secret, Tyler, who would I keep you a secret from?”
Tyler looked horrified. “Ryan is your closest friend?”
“God, no. Brad.”
“Brad? My brother Brad? Instigator of the often mentioned but never fully explained water balloon incident?”
“Yes, that Brad. I might tell you about it someday, but you'll probably have to get me drunk first.”
“I'll keep that in mind,” Tyler said. “I had no idea you were besties with Brad. Huh.”
“Yeah, since we've been roommates. He's the one who always talks me into golfing with him, even though I don't particularly like to golf. And he’s always inviting himself over, even though we usually just end up playing video games. I mean, don't get me wrong, he's even more mouthy than you and annoying as hell, but I like him. Most of the time. Not when he calls me sweet cheeks, though.”
Tyler stared at him, mouth agape. “Uh, I think I'm going to need an explanation for that nickname.”
“I don't think so,” Josh said.
Tyler opened his eyes very wide so he looked like an anime character. “Please? Pretty please with sugar on top? I'll do that thing you like…”
Josh gave Tyler a skeptical look. “What thing would that be?”
Tyler’s expression slid toward lascivious. “Anything. Everything.”
Josh sighed. “God, you're trouble.”
“Yes, but I'm worth it.” Tyler traced the Superman logo on Josh’s t-shirt with his index finger. “Come on. You still owe me a favor of my choosing, remember?”
The scars, right. If Tyler could strip himself naked for Josh, Josh figured he could do the same. “Okay, here goes. One night, back when we were roommates, Brad went out with friends and I stayed home. I had an early night and fell asleep. When Brad came home he found a dark, quiet apartment, so he thought it would be hilarious to wake me up with a huge water balloon dropped on my head for the edification of his guests.”
“Yep, that sounds like my brother, all right.”
“So, I was woken up by this huge splash of cold water. I jumped out of bed and ran after Brad, who headed for the living room, laughing his fool head off. There were a whole bunch of drunk idiots who got an eyeful that day.”
“An eyeful. Wait. Don't tell me that… Oh my God. You were naked, weren't you?”
Josh felt the blush, equal parts remembered embarrassment and fury, crawl up his face. “Yes, I was naked.”
Tyler stuffed a hand in his mouth to stifle his laughter, but his eyes danced with unholy mirth.
“So there I was, in my living room, naked, wet, and surrounded by strangers. It was like I was in a nightmare. Then I came to my senses and ran out of the room. As I fled the scene, I heard one girl call out, ‘Wow, that is an amazing ass.’”
“She was right. You do have an amazing ass,” Tyler observed. “Not as good as mine, but you have other compensations.”
“Thank you, I think. Right after the amazing ass comment, some dude shouted, ‘Yeah, seriously sweet cheeks, man.’ The rest is really embarrassing history.”
“I'm surprised you’re still speaking to Brad, let alone that you consider him a close friend.”
“I made him grovel. A lot. Which he did, because groveling to me was his best option. It was a long time before he brought up the sweet cheeks thing. By that time, he'd already started dating Rachel and probably thought he was safe from my wrath.”
“I think you’re a big softie and you wouldn't have kicked him out regardless. But if you want to irritate Brad, you can call him Bradley. He hates his full name, although that's no match for sweet cheeks.”
“Call me that, by the way, and we are never having sex ever again.” Hopefully Tyler wouldn't figure out that was largely an empty threat.
“Gotcha. I still can't believe Brad’s your best friend, after your sister, and you just now figured that out. That is the most pathetic thing I've ever heard, Josh. You really are the saddest man in existence. For real.”
“Now you sound like my sister,” Josh said.
“Christ. I'm not sure whether to be flattered or insulted. Your sister's a barracuda. I can only dream of being that scary when I grow up.”
“Tyler, my sister is only four years older than you. Which reminds me, you are not half my age. Although I guess you could pass for seventeen, maybe. In the right light. And if the other person was high.”
Tyler frowned. “Did your mom give you shit about the age difference?”
“Yeah. She demanded to know why I was making out with some child in a boat.”
Tyler’s frown deepened into a scowl. “I'm not some child.”
Josh reached over to smooth the line of Tyler's angry eyebrows. “I know. Stop looking like that. You'll get wrinkles.”
“Great. Then maybe I won't look half your age. Tell me, Mr. Stealth Gay, why am I the first man you're introducing to your parents? Although you're right—I've already met them, so I shouldn't count. How do you explain never having done the whole family meet and greet thing with anyone else? Are you only doing it with me because you have no choice?”
“It wasn’t because I was ashamed of any of the guys I was dating, if that's what you're thinking. If I'm ashamed of anyone, it's my parents. They'd scare off just about anybody. The first thing out of my mother’s mouth would probably be to ask how he felt about adoption versus surrogacy, then my father would grill him endlessly about financial minutiae and his golf game.”
“Um, I'm far too young to think about children, your sister does my taxes, and I don't golf. Ever. There. That wasn't hard.”
Josh shook his head. Well, it wasn’t like he hadn't tried to warn him.
“It's not like I keep the guys I date a complete secret. Rachel and Brad have met most of them, at least the ones that made it past the first few dates, but my mom and dad are a lot to inflict on an innocent person. There’s never been anyone who was important enough to put them through all that.”
“No one important enough. Hmm. That seems…” Tyler pursed his lips, gave Josh a long, considering look, then continued. “Okay, you've been pining after my brother since the breakup that you claim wasn't a breakup, so we're talking fifteen years, right?”
Tyler paused, waiting for acknowledgment, so Josh shrugged. “I'm not sure I'd use the word ‘pining.’ It makes me sound like a character from a Victorian novel.”
“Uh huh. And despite all your not-pining for Ryan, you're okay with getting freaky with me. And, as you took great pains to explain to me yesterday, I am one in a long line of men you've gotten freaky with since you and Ryan split.” Tyler shot him a look, complete with one raised eyebrow. Josh longed to put his thumb on it and push it down.
“That’s not exactly how I would have put it,” Josh said, “but yeah. Like I said yesterday, I haven't been celibate since Ryan.”
“Okay. So, my point is that I find it hard to believe that in fifteen years you couldn't find one guy you liked enough to introduce to your parents. You seem like the type who’d be all about having a committed, monogamous long-term relationship. I mean, you stuck it out with my brother for six years. But it turns out that you're, like, the exact opposite. You’re a worse man-whore than me.” Tyler poked him in the chest and demanded, “Explain.”
Josh knew there was something wrong with him. Ryan had shattered him years ago, or maybe Josh had done it to himself, but either way, he was broken and he'd never put the pieces back together correctly. Every time he dated someone new, he hoped to recapture some of that magic that he'd felt with Ryan, and in the beginning, there was always the bright and shiny possibility, but days or weeks would go by, and he'd just be going through the motions with a man who was never quite right. An itchy, unsatisfied feeling would creep up on him, and Josh would find a reason to break it off. Then he’d be alone until sheer horniness drove him to date again, and the cycle would repeat like it always did.
“I think the problem is me,” Josh said, his eyes on his lap. “It has to be me. I have no trouble finding men to date and have sex with, but when it comes to the sticking point, when dating is supposed to morph into something more permanent …” He shrugged. “I just can't. No one is ever… I don't know… it never feels right. And I've dated a lot. A lot. So, it's definitely me. I just don't know how to fix it. Maybe I don't want to, and that's the problem. So, hey, you've probably found the best man you could have to seduce into being your temporary boyfriend, because you can pretty much guarantee I won't become attached. I don't do attached.”
Tyler looked skeptical. “If you say so.”
“Anyway, that's why I don't take guys home. Why get my mother’s hopes up when I'll just break up with him in a few weeks, or give my dad more ammunition in his ‘why can't you be more serious’ campaign?”
“Josh, you are the most serious person I know, except for Ryan. You should not make being more serious a goal.”
“It's not. I…”
“What?”
Josh looked out at the lake. He didn't know how to finish the sentence. He wanted his father to take him seriously and to stop insinuating that his life needed fixing. That made him think of Tyler, and he realized he'd done the same thing to him. Josh felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment and guilt. “Nothing,” he said. “My dad is who he is. There's no changing him.”
Tyler laid his cheek on one knee and gave Josh a long, considering look. “At least you still talk to your dad.”
“Mostly through emails, though. Why aren't you and your dad speaking? Was it the divorce?”
Tyler’s hand went to the burn scar on his calf and rubbed it. “You know he sent me to Bridges after the threesome incident,” he said.
“Mm hm.” Josh was relieved that the conversation had veered away from how fucked-up he was. It was bad enough discussing it with his therapist. He wasn't even sure why he'd said any of it. There was something about those eyes of Tyler’s. Josh gazed into them and forgot himself, finding
all sorts of unexpected things falling out of his mouth. Now that Tyler had started talking about himself instead, Josh didn't want to say anything that might derail him.
“After I came back from that shithole I told my dad that if he ever sent me back there that I'd never forgive him. Also, I said…” Tyler trailed off and shot a look Josh’s way. He looked guilty, but of what, Josh had no idea. “Well, I said a lot of shit that boiled down to ‘I'm not going back, you can't make me.’ He sent me back anyway, over my mother's protests, and I haven't forgiven him. I'm sure I've been disinherited, but I don't care. Ryan and Brad can have his money. The movies I've been in have paid fairly well, and while my modeling won't ever make me rich, it all adds up. My investments are well-managed, and even without that, I've always got the trust fund. It's not ‘fuck you’ money, but I'm in no danger of starving.” He looked up and gave Josh a heartbreaking smile. “Which is a good thing, since I am not doing porn. That probably means I'm doomed to starring in dinner theater productions of Evita in Fresno or something.”
“Can you sing?” Josh asked.
“Sure. I can dance, too. I am a total triple threat.”
“Fresno won't know what hit it,” Josh said. He ruffled Tyler’s hair, then smoothed it back down. “Why do you still have a trust fund? Your father didn't take it away?”
Tyler gave him a satisfied smirk. “He couldn't. It was set up by my grandfather and it's untouchable, at least by Dad. I'm sure it pisses him off, though.”
“Do you have any plans to reconcile with your father?” Josh asked.
“God, no. Why would I want to?”
“Because he's your father.”
Tyler wrapped his arms around his knees. “I don't care. I spent my childhood terrified of him. On good days, he ignored me. On the bad ones, it was all insults and yelling and smacking me around.”
Anger simmered in Josh. He'd had no idea. He'd never liked Peter Chadwick, but that was because Ryan’s father was the one he and Ryan had to hide from. Josh had been scared of him, frightened of what he’d do if he found out about him and Ryan. Forbid him to ever see Ryan again, that was certain, but Josh had also been scared that his father might lose his job. He didn't know for sure if it would or could have happened, but it was something he'd always worried about. It had never occurred to him to be frightened of what Mr. Chadwick would do to Ryan himself if they were found out. That Peter Chadwick might have been physically abusive had never crossed his mind.