Boy

by James Stryker

  “You don’t become this successful without making unsavory connections who remember when you’ve done them a favor,” Leo had said, gesturing to the lavish furnishing of his home. “And you also make connections of the savory variety too. Right, Tommy?”

  He wrapped his arm halfway around Tom’s waist and hooked a hand into the back pocket of his jeans, a move Tom loathed. The man had his own fucking pockets to stick his meaty hands in. But it was the same as that infuriating nickname.

  He’d told Leo several times not to call him Tommy. But Leo was the type who, when told to stop something, only increased doing it. So Tom’s name was butchered, and his pockets were always stretched out. But Tom tried to remember that these were temporary annoyances.

  Leo was a mosquito. He had to be endured in exchange for amazing summer evenings. And when those evenings opened into an infinite night of perfection, he’d citronella the shit out of that exasperating pest. The payoff outweighed his annoyance. His early guess that the attorney could be of use to him had been correct. How else would Jay have accomplished a cover-up if not for Leo’s network?

  In addition to Jay owing him one—

  I mean really owing me. And I’m only asking for one, Tom rationalized. I gave you two lives for the price of one. That’s more than fair. Numerically, I’m getting the short end of the stick.

  It was the most logical choice, and Tom was sure Jay could be convinced. So after weeks of waiting for the right time, he took his chance.

  They were walking in the cemetery. Tom didn’t care for cemeteries, and he’d never been fascinated with death or dead bodies. But it wasn’t important. Jay had wanted to be a funeral director as long as Tom had known him, and Tom had long ago moved beyond any trepidation. He could live in a funeral home. He would get used to calls for removals in the middle of the night and on holidays. He’d gladly handle Jay coming home with his clothes and hair smelling like formaldehyde and rotting flesh. If it was Jay who was coming home, it was worth getting over.

  Jay had been in a good mood, though Jackie was away. It’d been the first week of June, before the weather was too hot to be outside, let alone in a hooded sweatshirt. And the graves were still freshly decorated with orange, yellow, and red mums from Memorial Day, which made Jay happy.

  “They don’t do this in Pennsylvania.”

  “That’s too bad. They should.” Tom’s hands were in his pockets. It was seventy degrees, but he decided he had no right to be comfortable around Jay, so he wore jeans and a long-sleeved button-up.

  “But they won’t.”

  “They should get better food too. Nasty shit.” It would benefit Tom’s case for these comparisons to be fresh.

  “If there was better food, I’d have no reason to come back.”

  “I’d still be here.”

  “Oh, you’re never here. You’re playing your piano in exciting places I’ve never heard of.” Jay laughed.

  “But I could stay here. I could be wherever you’d want me to be. Do whatever you want me to do.” A tingling sensation swept up the back of his neck and across his face.

  Corny. Cheesy. Awful.

  “If I told you to jump off a bridge?”

  “Don’t ask if you don’t want me to.” Tom’s laugh seemed to come out sideways, and it didn’t make sense.

  Around you, simple things don’t make sense.

  Jay had been kicking a soda bottle across the grass, and he passed it to Tom. But Tom wasn’t in the mood to play. He’d lose his nerve if he didn’t do it now.

  “Jay, you know I feel the same about you, right?” Tom picked up the bottle. There’d been a garbage can several yards away, and he started in its direction.

  “I have no patience to convince anyone of who I am anymore. Whatever state I’m in, I’m the same guy. If your perception of me was any different, I’d be out the door. Figuratively speaking. Since we’re outside, I’d be down the street.” Jay smiled as he caught up with Tom.

  “I don’t mean about that.” Tom tossed the bottle in the trash and pushed his hands back into his pockets. He avoided looking at Jay as they walked across the trimmed grass.

  “What do you mean then?”

  Tom had composed a list of reasons that would appeal to Jay’s logic and feelings. Irrefutable reasoning that couldn’t be dismissed. He’d been practicing the list to make sure he didn’t forget a single line. Since he didn’t know which factor would sway Jay, none could be disregarded. Tom rehearsed as diligently as for a performance. Every piece of music. Up and down. Like scales.

  You never forget the basics once you learn to play the piano. That’s what you are to me. You’re playing the piano. And I can no sooner forget those beginning scales as I can all the reasons I love you and why you should love me back.

  He turned to Jay and caught his gaze. Jay had remarkably expressive light eyes. They were listed as blue on his driver’s license, but they could look green or gray. Or a combination of the three. And Tom loved to look into his eyes. He’d completely forgotten his list.

  Tom jerked his head away and frantically tried to remember anything. Any clauses of his grand argument. But his mind was empty except for the main construct—what he’d been envisioning and fantasizing for years.

  After too many embarrassing seconds of failed recall, he gave up. He might as well blurt it out, and maybe the rest would follow. Or perhaps that’s all he’d need. He didn’t know that anything more would be necessary. It was possible Jay was just waiting for him to say it first.

  He stopped walking and faced Jay.

  “I want you to stay with me.” The words sounded like they left his lips shaking. As if he was unsure. But he’d been absolutely positive. He repeated himself to seem stronger. “I want you to stay with me.”

  “Leo is generous to put us up for a few months, but I don’t think he wants permanent house guests,” Jay replied, though his face said that he knew Tom’s true meaning.

  It’s kind to offer a way to retreat gracefully, but I don’t want to take it back.

  Jay’s arms had been at his sides. Tom decided he was being reckless enough, so what harm was there in seizing every chance? Who knew if that could be the tipping point? Jackie wasn’t affectionate, but Tom could be. He didn’t understand how Jackie was okay in leaving Jay, with not sitting close to him, holding his hand, or lightly touching his cheek.

  “No.” Tom stepped near to him and took Jay’s hand. He held it in both of his and pressed it gently. “Not with anyone else. Just with me. Stay with me.”

  “I can’t do that, Tom.” Jay tried to pull his hand back.

  “Please just listen before you say no.”

  “I don’t need to listen. I’m immensely grateful for all you’ve done, but I can’t stay with you. Nothing you say can convince me otherwise.” He freed his hand and plunged it into the pocket of his sweatshirt with the other, giving a weak smile. “And you don’t want to leave Leo. You’re just nostalgic. He’s good to you. He’s the best one you’ve had.”

  “You’re the best.”

  “You never had me to know that. I’ve never insinuated or alluded to feeling anything but friendship for you. Never.”

  “But I’d leave him.” Tom ignored the last half of what Jay had said. “The only reason I’m staying with him is for you. I tolerate him because of what he can do for you. When it’s over and he no longer serves a purpose, I’m done. I can barely stand him.”

  “That’s an awful thing to say.”

  “I’m an awful person sometimes.” He tried to remain poised. Jay couldn’t be expected to acquiesce immediately. He’d anticipated having to coax him. Hence the list. The fucked-up and forgotten list. “But so are you. We know that about each other.” Yes! That was a reason. “I know you better than anyone else, Jay. You could leave Jackie. Nothing is stopping you. However many years you’ve been together, no one will ever know you or understand you like I do. I was there. I grew up with you. I saw what you went through.”

  “Oh
, yes? And you’re going to say how you loved me before and after, right?”

  This was true, but Tom knew confessing it would taint anything else he could say. Jay had always been appealing, and Tom had been fascinated with him even before he’d changed his name and started hormones.

  It was a cliché, stereotypical scenario. Tom had moved into the neighborhood, and in the house next door lived the slender, beautiful girl with long dark hair and light-colored eyes. His parents had been thrilled—maybe this girl could knock the “gay thing” out of their otherwise exceptional son. Tom had fallen. And he’d never been able to pick himself back up. Not because of a girl, but because of Jay. Jay had always been Jay.

  But he didn’t want to explain what he meant and risk losing everything. There’d be plenty of time to tell him once he accepted.

  “You don’t love when you’re a kid. You do stupid shit with your best friend. Like building a tree house, or riding bikes, or doorbell ditching your own house to get your fat fucking brother off the couch. Remember that?” Tom returned Jay’s grin. “See? You can’t have that with anyone else but me. And you wouldn’t want to.”

  “I wouldn’t?” Jay’s smile waned.

  “No, you wouldn’t.” Tom kept speaking eagerly. “I know you care for Jackie. How couldn’t you? But she’ll find someone else. So will Leo. They’ll be okay. You don’t want to go back to Pennsylvania. You want to stay here with me.”

  “You’re very wrong about that. I’ll never move back here. There are things I miss, but—”

  “We’ll go wherever you want. I’ll go with you anywhere. Or, you said I travel to ‘exciting places.’ I’ll take you with me.” He envisioned being where he’d already been, but with Jay. Places Tom knew Jay would love. He’d take Jay to see an Italian opera in a real Italian opera house. He hadn’t performed in Italy yet, so it’d be a new adventure they could share.

  “I’m not moving again or traveling. You can’t uproot kids to hop all over the globe. I’m staying put.”

  That’s right, I can’t forget them. They’re important—the crux of the entire thing.

  “You’re right. We’ll stay. Wherever you like. I don’t need to travel.” He nodded.

  “Yes, you do.”

  “I can get a stable, stationary job. I can become part of an orchestra again, or teach piano. I’ll give up everything willingly, happily to be with you, Jay. To have a family with you.” Tom gathered his courage and brushed Jay’s face with the back of his two fingertips. “There’s no reason why they can’t have two fathers.”

  “No.” Jay shook his head.

  “This isn’t the dark ages anymore. You can be a normal man. Tell them we used a surrogate mother. Tell them it had nothing to do with me. I don’t care. We can say whatever you want.”

  “I said no.”

  “I’ve done immature stuff in the past.” Tom began to grasp at straws. “But I’m ready to settle down. I could be a good father. A really good father. I’d be a better second father to them than Jackie would be a mother, and you know that.”

  “You’re going too far, Tom.” Jay’s face darkened, but Tom took this to mean he’d hit the mark. Thank God.

  “It’s not too far when it’s the truth. She’s hardly capable of being a mother. Always making snide comments and cutting remarks at other people’s expense. I don’t do that. And she hates it here. She hates opera and piano. She hates your mother. She hates your brother. She hates me. And she’ll hate those kids, Jay.”

  Tom could see him becoming upset; but the angrier Jay was at Jackie, the easier it’d be for him to leave her. And the sooner he’d do it. He should do it tomorrow. That’s when she was scheduled to return and haunt them. Tom would have to hang on to Leo for a while longer, but he could tolerate being called “Tommy” for a few more weeks if he left with Jay afterward. So he prolonged the rant.

  “Jackie won’t hold them and kiss them and cuddle them like you will. Like I will. They’re my children, Jay. Our children. Why would you want her to have any part of them? She’ll scar them like your parents scarred you. She doesn’t want them. She—”

  “Neither do you!” Jay shouted. “You only say you want them because you think that’ll make me change my mind!”

  Tom felt daunted. Perhaps he’d pushed a bit much. “I won’t deny that you are the most important to me, but that’s how it’s supposed to be. Kids leave, Jay. They grow up and start their own lives. You can’t invest every piece of your soul in them.” He touched Jay’s arm. “That’s what I’m here for. Someday, our children will leave us, and we’ll only have each other.”

  When Jay had previously retracted his hand or moved his head to knock Tom away, it felt like he did it from discomfort. But yanking his arm back and retreating a couple of steps, he exuded more than uneasiness. He’d been furious.

  “No, they’ll leave me. They’re not ours. They’re mine. Mine,” Jay said it savagely. “You agreed to that. And I don’t care if no one wants them like I do. I’d give them enough of everything on my own if I had to! Fortunately, I’m not alone. I have my wife. And she’s not a fucking Molly Mormon. She won’t fall apart over every scratch or spoon-feed their egos. She’s going to tell them they’re being jackasses when they’re being jackasses, and to shut up when they need to shut the fuck up! That’s what children need!” He dropped his voice. “They need sincerity. That’s love.”

  Tom didn’t know how to respond. All his carefully constructed plans had broken apart as Jay yelled at him and defended Jackie’s insensitivity. But he had stopped shouting. He’d lowered his voice. And were his last sentiments a hint of what Jay wanted to hear? What he needed to hear?

  I’m not a romantic. I didn’t want to tell you in a fucking hot air balloon at sunset or some shit. But I didn’t picture it in a cemetery with you standing three feet away from me. Yet he proceeded. Nothing else had turned out as he planned it; however, that didn’t mean things couldn’t right themselves.

  “Jay, I do love you. Sincerely. Genuinely. I love you.” Tom took a deep breath. “Again, please stay with me.”

  And he waited for a response while Jay studied him.

  I don’t expect you to run into my arms or let me hold you. You don’t have to say it back. Think about it. I’ll give you all the time you need. I’ll wait. I’ll be patient, Tom pleaded in his head. He wondered if he should say these things aloud, but he had no voice. Just please don’t say ‘no’ right now. Please, Jay.

  When Jay’s hands emerged from his pocket, he could’ve cried for joy.

  “I’m sorry, Tom. I am…” Jay seemed to be struggling for words. “I am thankful for your help, but I can’t be more than your friend. I love my wife. And I won’t leave her.”

  Tom debated protesting. Demanding the simple, reasonable, and polite courtesy of him considering. At least thinking it over. For a few days. One day. A fucking hour. He knew the logic was there. If Jay would remove his loyalty to Jackie and decide based on common sense and reason, he’d come to the obvious conclusion that they were meant to be together.

  But Tom felt his lungs were constricting, and he couldn’t get enough oxygen. The landscape was spinning. The headstones bubbled like buoys on the ocean. He had no control over his speech. And to make matters worse—

  A car horn honked repeatedly, startling them.

  “I knew I’d find you morbid motherfuckers here!” Leo cranked down the window, and the horn blared three more times as the car pulled alongside the curb. “Surprised? I finished early today, so I decided, ‘What the hell? I’m coming home to see my baby.’”

  Tom said absolutely nothing.

  “Get.” Leo beeped the horn. “Your.” He beeped it again. “Fine.” Beep. “Ass.” Beep. “In.” Beep. “The.” Beep. “Carrrrrr!” As he prolonged the last word, he placed the palm of his hand on the car horn and let it drone. “Get in the car, Tommy.”

  Goddamn it, he hated being called that. Leo honked the car horn yet again.

  “Will you shu
t the fuck up?” Tom recovered his voice and pulled open the backseat door.

  “Who am I going to wake?” Leo’s hand hung out the window, and he struck the side of the car as he hooted. “I’m hilarious. Hilarious! How do you boys get along without me?”

  “You’d be amazed how well I manage,” Tom mumbled as he slumped into the back. Jay had already gotten into the backseat and was buckled on the other side, but Tom couldn’t look at him. He still felt the dizziness in his head and tightness of his chest as two dark brown eyes leered at him from the rearview mirror.

  “What’re you doing back there?” Leo tilted the mirror to the left. “This isn’t a Driving Miss Daisy episode. Get in the front.”

  “Driving Miss Daisy was a movie. Not a television show.”

  “I don’t give a shit what it was. Get your ass in the front.”

  To pacify him, Tom climbed into the front seat, where Leo pulled him close. He closed his eyes and tried to pretend that the arm was Jay’s. That the lips on his temple were Jay’s. That the voice was Jay’s.

  “I missed you, Tommy.”

  Even if Jay decided to call him that, he would’ve forgiven it. He’d tolerate it. He would learn to love it, if it were Jay saying it to him.

  But it hadn’t been Jay. It was never going to be him. Calling him anything but “Tom” and thinking of him as nothing but a friend. A friend to whom he was indebted, but just a friend.

  For the next few days, there’d been strangeness between the two of them that took Jay farther away. He assumed from Jackie’s increased hostility that the incident had been divulged to her, and he contemplated inventing a version to tell Leo. A story that would really get him bent out of shape. That would make him insist that childhood friend, or no, Jay and Jackie weren’t walking away with those kids.