She gasped in delight, and he couldn’t help a smile as he told her about Duon, which of course by extension led him to tell her about Tomás. And without giving away their secret, he told her about Tomás’s family.
They were at the restaurant by then, on their second round from the buffet when his stories about Tomás and Duon wound down. Clara thanked the waitress as she refreshed her coffee, adding a cheeky wink as the young lady withdrew. Clara cradled the cup in her hands as she studied Spenser. “Now, tell me why you really wanted to see me.”
Spenser fiddled with his knife on the tablecloth, wishing he’d had this conversation in the privacy of her car. “It’s ridiculous. I shouldn’t feel this way, but I can’t help it.”
“And how do you feel, sweetheart?”
He ran his thumb up and down the smooth, heavy utensil, gaze focused absently on the shiny surface. “Jealous. I’m jealous of Tomás and his family. Which is awful. They’re going through hell, a nightmare I can barely understand, but all I can think about is how happy they are together, how much they love each other.” His throat became thick, his eyes blurry, and he fiddled more nervously with the knife. “They say I’m one of them now, but I’m not. It isn’t the same as having a family of my own.”
Her thin, wrinkled hand closed over his, stilling his nervous twitch. “This has been your struggle ever since I’ve known you. And it’s not something to feel guilty about or angry with yourself over. It’s not fair that you don’t have a family like Tomás does. You have every right to be upset. But at the same time, you can’t let hurt keep you from embracing the loved ones you do have. The family we make is as valid as the family we’re born to. Sometimes it’s a thousand times better.”
Spenser wiped at his eyes and turned his palm so she could squeeze his hand more completely. “I know. I keep trying, but I can’t let it go. I’ve been to therapy for it, I’ve had conversations with myself to get through it, but it’s a shadow I can’t find my way around.”
“Well that’s your first mistake, thinking you’ll ever be completely over it. All lives cast shadows. Pretending otherwise is how we end up accidentally living in darkness.” She let go of his hand and leaned back in her booth, a sad, wistful expression on her face. “Maybe it’s so hard for you because it wasn’t your choice. Not that parting ways with my family was on my to-do list, mind you, but when they said it was Betsy or them, I chose Betsy, and I never regretted it. It was the same for her. We were sad, yes, but we’d removed ourselves. I think part of you is still a little boy watching his sisters get stolen away from him.”
Spenser couldn’t argue with her. “It was easier when I was focused on work. With Duon around, I’m always seeing my story in him. And now in Tomás’s nieces and nephew.”
“Have you contacted your sisters? Perhaps you could start up relationships there.”
“I tried looking them up, but it was too overwhelming. I’m afraid of what I’ll find.”
Clara tapped her finger on the table, then nodded as if coming to a decision. “Let me do some digging for you. I’ll see if one of them would be safe to approach. I can be your buffer at a meeting if you like.”
The idea sounded both wonderful and terrifying at the same time. “I don’t want to put you out.”
She rolled her eyes, but she grinned too. “Yes, it’ll be tough squeezing it into my busy schedule. Don’t worry about it. I’m happy to do this for you. You are my family, Spenser. I’ll do anything for you, anytime.” She shook a finger at him. “And no feeling guilty for not contacting me for so long. You’re living your life. I keep tabs on you too, mister. If I thought you needed nudging, I’d have nudged.”
Spenser smiled shyly, focusing on his plate. But then he reached for Clara’s hand and clasped it tight. “Thank you, Clara.”
She drew their joined hands to her mouth and kissed his knuckles. “You’re welcome.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Spenser kept Clara’s words about family in mind as he had dinner with Duon and the Jimenez family that night. Tomás had to work late at Starbucks, so after Duon and Spenser helped Renata with the dishes, they had a quiet evening at home, watching random reality television and eating sliced cucumbers doused in Tajín. They had their own bottle at home now, and while Spenser appreciated it in conservative circumstances, Duon had embraced it wholeheartedly. When the cucumbers ran out, Duon raced Jasmin to collect the excess spice from the plate with dampened fingers.
During one of the commercials, Spenser turned to Duon.
“I want you to know I consider you family. You always have a place with me. I have every intention of keeping you through high school, but when you’re out in the world, when you need something, you come to me, okay?”
Duon appeared moved but unsurprisingly hid it behind bravado and a wry smile. “You been watching the Lifetime channel, Spense?”
Spenser ignored the tease and put a hand on the couch cushion beside Duon’s leg. “I want you to remember that. I don’t want you to ever feel you don’t have somewhere to be. You always belong with me, even if it’s been a long time since we’ve spoken. You’re my family. Whether you like it or not.”
Duon softened and, glanced down, abashed but subdued. “Sure, man. But I wasn’t worried, really.”
“I know. But I needed to say it.” Spenser withdrew his hand. “It’s hard for me sometimes, watching Tomás’s family. I get jealous. So I went to see my adoptive mother today. She helped me get my head on straight about a few things. And I wanted to make sure I was doing right by you.”
“You do right just fine, man. I swear.” His face clouded. “But it’s weird that you bring it up now, actually. Because I ran into my cousin the other day. His mom is in town. And I don’t know if it was him being an asshole or what, but he said my aunt has been on my grandma’s case and they were gonna try to get me back. Mom and Grandma. They found out I was with a gay man, and they all having fits.”
Spenser lost his breath. “Have you told your social worker about this?”
Duon pulled a face. “Hell, no. I hate her.”
“Did you tell Vicky?” When Duon glowered, Spenser held up his hands, which were shaking. “I’m trying to process, is all. You threw me for a loop, telling me that.”
Duon studied Spenser more carefully. “You scared. Why?”
Spenser wasn’t entirely sure. He tried to parse it out and edit it to what seemed appropriate to share with his charge. “The idea that someone could take you away because of my orientation is upsetting. It’s the same thing with my job. I have tenure, which should mean greater job protections, but because I’m gay, any second they could fire me if I give them evidence. It doesn’t have to be much, either. Someone sees me out with Tomás, or…anything.”
“But Ed keeps saying how they’re gonna pass that law for equality. So all you gotta do is hold on until then. Same for this bullshit with my family.”
Spenser shook his head. “My school is a private, religious institution. They can do what they want.”
Duon was clearly worried now too. “But my family can’t do shit, though, because this is a state thing. Right?”
Spenser had no idea. He leaned into the cushion and pressed his fingers to his temple. “I’m going to call the host home coordinator. And your social worker, probably. I hope this is a tempest in a teapot, but I can’t be sure.”
When he made the phone calls on his break at school the next day, he was mollified somewhat. Both Ryan from Avenues and the social worker felt the family didn’t have much ground to stand on, since Duon had been formally surrendered to his care. “I’d keep your nose clean, though. Don’t bring guys home, and maybe stay away from gay clubs for a while.”
Spenser was so taken aback he almost didn’t know what to say. “Are you telling me I can be a gay parent only if I’m celibate and a shut-in? Or is a night out acceptable so long as I’m surrounded by straight buffers?”
“Of course not.” She laughed nervously. “I’m only sa
ying discretion would go a long way here. And it’s a delicate line. Duon is still a child in the eyes of the law. You have more leeway as a suitable other placement than if you were a foster parent, but he’s not your child. Not legally.”
“What if he was legally my child?”
“Then his family would have no say at all.”
Spenser let the gravity of the situation rock him a moment, and then he said, “Fine. How do I adopt him?”
“If you become a foster parent and adopt him through the system? You attend some classes, have another home study, this one more official and detailed. You get a foster care adoption license, which will close once the adoption is final. Of course, the family has the right to appeal, and some courts favor family over foster parents.”
I am his family. Spenser wanted to bulldoze forward and tell her to get him the paperwork, but of course it wasn’t his decision alone. “I’ll talk to Duon about it.” And Tomás.
“Wonderful. I hope you get back to me saying that’s what you want to do. In the meantime, I wouldn’t worry too much about the family’s objections. We have same-sex couples adopt all the time. In fact the court might look more highly on you if you did have a partner.”
Spenser considered bringing up Tomás, but remembered his family and their struggles and decided not to. “I’ll let you know.”
He thought about what it would mean to adopt Duon all though the school day, and in fact he was so distracted by it he missed his principal calling his name until the man was practically standing in front of him.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Dr. Harvey. I’m afraid I’m a little distracted. How can I help you?”
Harvey pressed his lips together before addressing Spenser. “I didn’t see you at the rally yesterday. I believe I made it clear I expected all staff to attend.”
Spenser had forgotten all about the rally. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to tease out an acceptable response, but there wasn’t one. And he realized he didn’t care. He met his principal’s gaze. “I had a family situation with the child in my guardianship.”
This only took a bit of wind out of Harvey’s sails. “Then I expect to see a letter to the legislature on my desk tomorrow morning, condemning the upcoming vote against natural marriage.”
Any other day, Spenser would have felt sick, would have done tap dancing that would have impressed Laurie to get around the demand. But not today. Not with Tomás’s fears and Duon’s family pressure and his own existential struggle with his past. Not with the social worker’s well-meaning but insulting admonition in his ears.
Spenser set his jaw and looked his principal in the eye. “I won’t be giving you a letter, no.”
Harvey shook a finger at Spenser. “Watch yourself, Harris. You’re on thin ice as it is. Don’t think I haven’t heard the rumors.”
There it was, his worst fear. Funny how now that it was here before him, Spenser didn’t give one fuck about it.
He glanced at his watch. “My contract time was up fifteen minutes ago, Dr. Harvey. If you have something you require of me regarding the education of St. Anthony’s students, please let me know, and I’ll be happy to comply. Otherwise, I must be on my way.”
“Protecting the children of this school from sexual deviants is absolutely part of your job.”
“My job is to educate. To teach my students letters and shapes and days of the week and how to sit still and stay in a line. To get along with one another, to not judge or to hate. To respect each other.” When Harvey looked ready to bluster again, Spenser inclined his head and turned to leave. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He left, but his head spun and he felt like he would vomit as he drove away. He didn’t go home, only drove around aimlessly, the gravity of what he had just done ringing inside him. When he stopped the car, it was in front of Laurie’s studio.
It was right in the middle of their busiest time of the day, the studio space full of students taking lessons. Laurie and Tomás led them, Laurie giving the instruction while Tomás assisted. Duon was in the class, dancing his heart out. Ballet, Spenser knew from the shoes and the movements.
He regretted coming inside, ashamed for invading a lesson with his feelings, and he would have left, but Laurie saw him, whispered something to Tomás, and then Tomás crossed over to him, concerned. “What’s wrong?”
Spenser didn’t know where to begin. Wasn’t sure what he should share, or how. He drew a breath, then covered his mouth and averted his gaze from the students, choking on the words before he could get them out.
Tomás took his arm. “Come with me. I’ll take you somewhere more private, and we can talk.”
Spenser resisted, shaking his head. “You’re working. I shouldn’t have come.”
“You’re upset. I’m going to comfort you.”
Spenser wiped his eyes, still trying to hide himself. “I don’t know how to explain it. I don’t want to talk about it. I just want…” He shut his eyes, drew a shaky breath, and went quiet.
This time when Tomás took his arm, Spenser didn’t fight him. He let himself be led to the back of the studio, out into the alley—and then, to his surprise, to the building next door to the studio.
“Where are we going? Whose building is this?”
Tomás smiled over his shoulder. “Laurie and Ed’s. They decided instead of buying a house for themselves they’d buy this place so they could expand the studio.” He unlocked the door with a key and led Spenser into the darkness. “It’s not up to code and will take a lot of work, but when it’s done, it’s going to be gorgeous.”
He flicked a switch on the wall, and after a slight hesitation, a series of overhead fluorescents blinked greenish-yellow light into the room. It was a large and dusty space, originally a restaurant or bar of some kind, considering the kitchen they stood in. But through a large opening, Spenser saw a great expanse of wooden floor lit in gentle pools by the lights dangling above.
Tomás drew Spenser through the kitchen and onto the floor. He kissed Spenser’s hand, pulled out his phone, and set it on a dusty shelf. As music began to play from its tiny speakers, he laced his fingers through Spenser’s and smiled at him. “Dance with me, sweetheart.”
Spenser drew away. “I can’t dance right now. I’m too jumbled inside.”
Tomás held him fast. “That’s exactly why you need to dance.” He jerked his head at the floor. “Come on. It’s just you and me and this big, open space. You don’t have to talk about what’s upsetting you. You don’t have to do anything but be with me.”
Spenser attempted once more to get away, but Tomás was devious and made the tug part of their dance. It wasn’t formal dancing like their classes together, but because Tomás had dancing in his blood, their give-and-take was punctuated with steps and pauses, and it seemed to follow the beat.
Damn it all, but it was what Spenser needed somehow. The resistance and the dancing both.
A new song came on, this one an eerie, upbeat, minor tune. A woman sang, over and over, that she was so sorry life was like this. The lyrics angered Spenser, because he didn’t want apologies. Didn’t want to give them, didn’t want to receive them. He wanted action. He wanted justice. For himself, for Duon, for Tomás, for Ed and Laurie. He was furious with the world, and he didn’t want to put that anger down because it felt like the only thing keeping him from sinking into despair.
He fought Tomás, dragging, trying to trip him. But Tomás was much better at dancing than he was, and he met every challenge. The more Spenser tried to derail them, the more deftly Tomás maneuvered Spenser into the dance.
Spenser didn’t realize he was crying until Tomás spun him out and the room stayed blurry after his return to position. When he faltered, Tomás eased him into an embrace and pressed a kiss on his ear. “It’s okay. Let everything out. It’s you and me and the dance.”
Spenser didn’t want to let it out, didn’t want to fall into the blackness of his fear, but Tomás and the dance wouldn’t let him do anything else. It s
tole the fight from him until all he had were his tears and the ache in his soul. The music shifted, but the apology song echoed in Spenser’s head.
I’m sorry. So sorry…
Tomás led him off the floor, pushed him to the wall, and kissed him. Slowly, sweetly, not an apology but a soothing gesture. An affectionate gesture.
A loving gesture.
Spenser began to cry again. “It’s too much,” he whispered. “Everything is happening, everything is wrong, and it’s too much. I can’t do it.”
“Shh. You can. Because I’ll do it with you.”
Discretion would go a long way here.
Protecting the children of this school from sexual deviants is absolutely part of your job.
The court would look more highly on you if you did have a partner.
I’m sorry. So sorry…
Spenser buried his face in Tomás’s neck and wrapped his arms around him, giving up. “I don’t want to lose any of it. Not my job. Not Duon. Not you.”
Tomás hugged him closer, crowding him into the wall, surrounding Spenser with his presence. “You’re not going to lose me.”
Spenser didn’t know how to explain this wasn’t what he meant—he hadn’t gotten far enough into his fears to worry about that, because he was more afraid the world would make him choose between the things he loved. He felt the sob welling, but he didn’t want to let it out. Not without more to hold on to.
Tomás nuzzled his face, his neck, kissing him slowly and sweetly, drawing the sadness out in soft wisps, drawing it into himself and exhaling it, cleansed and defeated. Spenser gave it over inch by inch, until there was nothing left but that which he had his hand closed fast around. When Tomás lifted his mouth from Spenser’s and rested their foreheads together, Spenser released his confession in a whisper. His most vulnerable confession, his hollow, sorrowful ache.
“I finally found a family. And now it’s going to be taken away from me.”
Tomás kissed his temple. “No one is taking us away.”
“Yes, they are. They’re trying. Duon’s family. The social worker. My school.”
Enjoy the Dance Page 19