“You what?”
“Okay, that was a joke, I admit. Maybe I shouldn’t have acted like your boyfriend in front of your boyfriend.”
“Why?” Rebecca started to laugh.
“Because he was behaving like a little bitch!”
“Don’t you call me a little bitch—” and I reared up my foot and kicked him again and then—ow ow ow—Mr. Spock had somehow sneaked up behind me. Man, I hated that!
“If you don’t want to be called a little bitch,” said the dick, “then don’t act like a little bitch.”
Rebecca let me go finally. Damn.
“Don’t let him talk to me like that!” I appealed to Rebecca.
“He has a point, Theo.”
“He had no business being there at all!!!”
“You’re right,” said Jeff. “I had absolutely no reason for being there, nothing to gain. Which is why you’re supposed to say nice things, e.g., ‘thank you for coming, Jeffrey, how generous of you to give up your evening,’ stuff like that.”
“Theo?” said Rebecca.
“I can’t believe you’re taking his side!” The injustice of it all! My traitorous sister.
“I’m not on anybody’s side! I’m Switzerland. I’m on the side of going to bed. You two –figure out how to share a couch without screaming in the middle of the night. If not—you can check into that motel in New Jersey.”
“Ha!”
“And you—can get on the next westbound Greyhound, okay? I’m serious. Grow the hell up!”
“Ha!”
“That goes for both of you!”
“Ha!” I said back.
I glared at Jeff, snapped up my things and stomped to the bathroom to change. It’s so not fair, I thought, that Rebecca invited this guy here when I was already here. When I came back, teeth brushed and everything, the lamp on my side was still on. She could have asked me first before she gave my bed away. At least I didn’t have to break my neck in the dark, while I went around the foot of the bed to get over to my side. And the way this clown tried to insinuate himself among my friends! I pulled back the bedding. Crud-sucking sleazeball. I got under the sheet and blanket—in his, now my, sweatpants for safety’s sake—and clicked off the lamp. “I’ve heard so much about you”—such a scuzzwad!
I was still lying in the dark, grinding my teeth on all this, when Jeff spoke out of the darkness.
“I really liked your songs, you know.”
“You what?!” I spun around and was sitting up, my fist completely ready to punch him in the head. He was on his side, facing away from me.
“I mean it.” In the general glow of city light that came in from the window, I could see the reflection in his eyes as he looked up at me. “I really liked your songs. Your two songs were easily the best of the evening.”
“Really? You’re not messing?”
“I’m not!” He rolled over onto his back. “I know I’ve been a dick. But seriously, I mean this. I tried to tell you earlier, but you wouldn’t listen.”
“When?”
“At the table, afterwards.”
“Oh.”
I lay back down.
“Your first song was actually funny—none of the others were. And the second one—that girl broke my heart. She was also really good.” I was on my side, and I could see the silhouette of his face against the window.
“Yeah, isn’t she? I lucked out there.”
He sat up and looked down at me. I could still see the streetlight in his eyes in the darkness.
“There was that terrific line about people whispering, what was it?”
I leaned against the back of the couch and pulled my legs up.
“They’ll whisper and they’ll wonder, as they watch me walk away,” I said, quoting my own song.
“See—that’s so good.”
“Thanks. I’ve always really liked that line too.”
“And I’ll tell you it was a huge relief that your songs were good. I mean, what would I have said if they’d totally shat?”
“Shat? Is that like supposed to be—past tense of—shit?”
“Past participle in this case, but yeah. So I was totally relieved that I could tell you I genuinely liked your songs. There—I said something nice. No snark, I promise. Okay?”
“Okay. I know I can be a bit much, too, sometimes. Not that I’m apologizing, because I’m not. You totally deserve to get knocked down when you’re being an arrogant bozo. And if you ever take that I’m-so-much-smarter-than-you attitude with me again, I’ll clobber you again.”
“Yeah, I can be a bit of a prat.”
“Prat?”
“I guess that’s like prep-school for ass.”
“I’ve heard it before.”
“So—we’re okay? Pax?” I just looked at him. I mean, who really says this stuff? “Sorry, that’s ‘peace’ in Latin.”
“I know what it means, phlegmwad. But why do you have to say it in frigging Latin?”
“What have you got against Latin? E pluribus unum and carpe diem?”
“You know what I say? Carpe scrotum, before I kick you in the balls for being such a jag-off—oh sorry, that’s American for wanker. Why Latin, you affected dipwad! Christ-on-a-Croissan’wich, where do they teach you this shit—excuse me—shat? Dartmouth?”
“Someone’s been googling my bio.”
“Or Choate?”
“Both, actually,” he said. “And don’t think I’m going to apologize because I went to decent schools instead of some one-room schoolhouse in Buttcrack, Idaho!”
“That’s Buttcrack, Iowa to you, shithead! You see, exactly this kind of crap—it’s points of fact and pax and prat—you always sound like such a—”
“Don’t make me come out there!” came from the bedroom.
Jeff looked at me, smiling, and then, really quietly—
“I got you in trouble,” he sing-songed at me, like a little kid you wanted to hit. Really hard. He settled back down in bed and rolled over on his side away from me, like usual.
I leaned over him in the dark and whispered.
“Did you do that deliberately?”
“G’night, Theo.” There was just enough light from the window to see his smirk in the darkness.
I settled down in bed, facing away from him, furious. Like usual.
“G’night, you—prat-hole.”
Chapter 13
Coffee and…
Tommy
I wasn’t waiting in front of my usual Starbucks for very long when I saw Theo coming around the corner in the morning crowds.
“Hey you,” I said.
“Hey. So show me this famous ex of yours.”
We had agreed to meet here before work, so he could get a glimpse of my incredibly good-looking ex-boyfriend who was the cutest barista-boy ever. Javier and I were still sort of friends, so it wasn’t awkward. Okay, so it wasn’t really awkward anyway.
We went inside. I suppose it is the condition of Starbuckses everywhere that the shops are too small and too crowded. I’m sure that if this place had an occupancy card on the wall, it would show that the premises were safe for about half as many people as were standing in this vague sort of line curving around the store.
I basically hated Starbucks. I’m not sure why I kept going there.
Of course there was the reason of my ex and ta-da! There he was.
“So?”
“The barista, behind the counter,” I indicated with the subtlest of eyebrow gestures.
“Seriously? Dark hair, blue eyes?”
“My Latin lover, my Javi.”
“Cute! Still have feelings?”
“No, not really. It never really worked. He had been involved with somebody—which explained why he had ignored me for so long—and when I got him he still wasn�
�t really ready for any kind of a thing yet. I wasn’t really looking for anything serious either, so we enjoyed it, and then we walked away from it. It was totally mooch, and we’re still friendly.”
“He doesn’t spit in your cappuccino?”
“No,” I said with a wistful sigh. “Not anymore.”
“He’s gorgeous, Tommy.”
“Yeah, he is. And the sex was great. But of course I have my memories. And one forty-seven-minute-twelve-second iPhone movie that is totally hot.”
“For when the memories fade.”
“Exactly.” The line at Starbucks would test the patience of a tree sloth.
“So are you looking at anybody else yet?”
“Not really. Okay-well-maybe.”
“Really? Good for you.”
“So,” I said, the apex of discretion. “Tell me. What’s Swithin’s story?”
“Swithin?”
“Yeah, the lanky surfer boy. I mean, he looks pretty straight, but I thought I’d ask.”
“Gee. I don’t know.”
“He’s sort of dreamy cute. In his way.”
“Swithin? Yeah, I guess.”
Okay, Swithin was this guy at Theo’s cabaret night. I met him, we talked a bit. He was tall and thin, had really long legs in a pair of those super-skinny jeans you see on rocker-boys, and straight blond hair that fell across his face. Normally I would find the hair totally irritating as fuck. But somehow on him…he used his hair like a veil, like Veronica Lake if you’ve ever heard of Veronica Lake. He could lean his head one way and disappear behind it, or lean it the other way and reveal these bright blue eyes, that always seemed to have just heard something funny.
As I said, that hair-gimmick on any other guy would just make me want to slap him, but on this one, it was adorbs.
“I’ve known Swithin for a couple years, but I don’t know if I’ve ever heard him mention dating or a girlfriend or boyfriend or anything. He seems pretty straight, but I don’t know. It is a musical theatre workshop, after all. I’m sorry I’m not more helpful.”
“Hey, not your responsibility. Your songs were really good, by the way. Jeffrey and I agreed about that.”
“Jeff is an ass. But thanks, I appreciate it.”
“Next customer,” asked my personal nemesis, the cashier. Her name, I had learned in my time with Javi, was Myrtle, believe it or not. Even stranger than that? It suited her.
Need I say more?
Of course not, but I will. She was maybe five-feet-nothing tall, and she wore a ton and a half of make-up, which was about a half ton too much. She had never liked me, and then I started dating Javi, and then she loathed me. Instead of writing my name on the cup, she used to write really rude things about me for Javi. He of course just laughed. I mean, he also read them out loud for the whole shop, but then he laughed.
These last few weeks since Javi and I split? She has had nothing but smiles for me. Maybe I should find a new coffee place with less history.
“Hi, Tommy,” Myrtle grinned, the last of the Borgias, preparing to empty the contents of her signet ring into my cardboard cup. She tapped her fingernails along the top of her register, nails that were of a length that could only be called preternatural. Do you think they let her get on an airplane with those things? Each nail was an astonishing purple, and bore the image of a tiny Easter egg.
“Hi, Myrtle,” I said. “I’ll have a tall cinnamon dolce latte, with a shot of caramel, please. And ring his up on mine too, please.” I gestured to Theo.
“You don’t have to do that,” objected Theo.
“Of course I don’t have to, but you just started this job, you haven’t been paid yet, and one of your shoes is held together with duct tape. You can buy mine someday when you’ve had a paycheck.”
“Okay, thanks. Skinny latte, please.”
She rang his up.
“Name?”
“Theo.”
I paid and we stepped aside to wait.
“I’ll see what I can find out about Swithin,” said Theo, once we had maneuvered ourselves vaguely in the direction of the pick-up counter.
“Don’t. It’s too embarrassing and so junior high.”
“I’ll be discreet. Remember me? Keeper of all kinds of secrets.”
“So you and Madison are—?” I said, shifting the subject, “What exactly?”
“I don’t know. I told you how I’d gone up to Chester and he was a total jerk and I came back. Then he made this special trip down yesterday—in the middle of his rehearsals—to see the cabaret. Now obviously there were a lot of people there with songs on the program, not just me, but I have to think he came down to see me.”
“And?”
“You know the rest. I was a bitch to him because nobody can treat me the way he did. And then Jeff did his whole asshole thing—”
“Sorry, Theo, but I thought I’d die, trying not to laugh—”
“Yeah, like you tried really hard—”
“C’mon, did you see Madison’s face? It was like something from Molière. Anyway, did you explain to Madison? That it was just a joke?”
“No! Why should I? What’s it to him if I’m seeing somebody?”
“Which you’re not.”
“Of course not. Jeff?” Theo shuddered slightly. “But Mads is the one who can’t introduce me as his boyfriend, who sends me off on a train in the middle of the night because he can’t stand to have me around.”
“Fair point.”
“So fuck him.”
“And he still thinks you and Jeffrey…”
“Let him think.
“Cappucino for Tommy,” called my old boyfriend.
“Hey, cutie, how’s it goin’?” I said, retrieving the cup.
“Good, you?”
“Good. Busy, but good.”
“I’m glad.” And he turned his beautiful eyes onto the next order. Okay, yeah, I admit it—it twinged a little.
I was still thinking about that when Javi called out again.
“Skinny latte for—” and he started to laugh. “For Tommy’s skanky new boyfriend???”
Theo looked at me, confused, although I could see dark clouds forming on that forehead. I turned to Javi for an explanation.
“That’s what it says,” he said still chuckling and turning the cup so I could read it. Myrtle of course.
“You don’t have to read them! You’re only encouraging her. Anyway, he’s not.”
“I’m not,” said Theo.
“Not skanky?” asked Javi, those blue eyes twinkling.
“Not boyfriends!” said the Shining twins.
“You could do lots worse,” said Javi looking at Theo. “Take it from me.”
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh that was so sweet. I gave Javi a sad smile. Lord love me, he was pretty. And he grabbed an empty cup and went back to work.
Twinge, twinge.
Theo retrieved his latte, and we turned toward the counter with all the other stuff.
“So what are you going to do about Madison? Let him go or—”
As we turned, there was this tall oaf—in a really expensive pinstripe suit—who was squarely in the way. The pinstripes looked down at us.
“Hey, if it isn’t Twinks United!”
The law firm was just a block and a half away, it was no big coincidence that we should bump into somebody from the office, but I was still surprised, and still not quite used to seeing Jeffrey outside of his relationship/non-relationship with Roger.
“Jeffrey—you startled me. And I’m sure I was just on the brink of saying something pithy.”
“Well, don’t get pithy with me.”
“Ha!”
Theo looked like he wanted to ignore Jeffrey, but I saw the little smile he had to smother.
“Jeffrey made a funny!” I said. �
��I am sooooo stealing that.”
“Hey Theo,” said Jeffrey, “I’m glad I bumped into you. I was going to try to track you down at your desk. You’re really into musicals, right?”
“Duh. Ye-ah. You were at the cabaret last night, weren’t you?”
“Yeah, I was. I told you, I liked your songs. Really. Anyway, seriously, I wanted to ask you if you’ve seen this show Hamilton everyone’s going on and on about.”
“No. Madison and I were supposed to go—back when you could still get tickets—but—anyway, it didn’t happen. And of course now tickets are like a bazillion dollars and a kidney.”
“Well I just got two tickets from a client—freebies. Would you like to come?”
I nearly choked on my cappuccino.
“You got tickets to Hamilton? Free?” said Theo with disbelief.
“Well, I still have both kidneys. At least I think I have both, but…”
“I bet you could eBay those for like a year’s salary.”
“Really? What’s the going rate for kidneys these days?”
“I mean the tickets, you dolt.”
“Oh, yeah. I guess I could sell them, but honest—I’d rather see the show. So no interest then?”
“No! I mean, yes! But I can’t possibly pay for it.”
“Well then, I guess I’ll have to give you the ticket.”
“When is it?”
“Tomorrow night.”
I stood by and watched in wonder, my eyes moving from face to face like it was a tennis match, but no one was grunting. Meanwhile, crabby and annoyed New York people were trying to get around us in every direction.
“Seriously?” said Theo. “This isn’t going to be some stupid trick that you think is going to be screamingly funny but isn’t—is it?”
“I’m serious. I don’t have the tickets yet or I’d show them to you.”
“Okay. Tomorrow night.”
“Cool. I’m going to go get in line for a latte. You boys better get to work—you’re going to be late.”
I had absolutely no idea what I’d just witnessed. Jeffrey Bornic seemed once again to be doing something nice for somebody who wasn’t Jeffrey Bornic. You could have knocked me over with a featherweight.
While I stood there, awash in uncertainty, reality swimming before my eyes, there were two truths of which I was certain. The first was this:
And the Next Thing You Know . . . Page 9