by Megan Bryce
Shane nearly groaned as the strawberry-covered waffles were placed in front of him. The whipped cream leaned precariously, the nuts covered it liberally. He said, “At a wedding reception,” and then filled his mouth with a large bite.
Kenny grimaced at him, then said, “Not Cassandra’s wedding reception, I hope.”
Shane closed his eyes, partly to enjoy the waffle, partly in shame.
He swallowed and hung his head. “Yes. I left her there, with her family. In purple!”
Kenny shook his head. “Gasp! She will never forgive you.”
Tom said, “Of course she’ll forgive him. Despite her mouth, she has a heart that is big and resilient. And all she has to do is look at these two to know her sacrifice was worth it.”
Kenny and Shane exchanged a look, and Kenny stage-whispered behind his hand, “Alas. He is wrong again and all is right with the world.” Kenny turned to Christian, trying to include him in the conversation. “And what did you think of our dear Cassandra? I see you survived the experience.”
Christian shook his head and Shane said, “He hasn’t met her. Yet.”
Kenny said, “Wise.”
Tom agreed. “Wise.” He said to Christian, “Just know that she loves Shane. And she will love you, eventually, when she sees that you love him as well.”
Christian’s cheeks turned red, and Shane thought there were quite a few mights missing from that sentence.
Kenny looked between the two younger men, at Christian’s stiffness and Shane’s drooping shoulders. “Well, there is always hope.”
Tom said, “There is, sometimes, only hope.” He squeezed Kenny’s hand. “Until, one day, suddenly, it is no longer needed.”
They spent the rest of the meal talking about work, and why some foods qualified for brunch and others didn’t, until Christian had relaxed enough to give Shane a tiny smile when he quoted from Star Wars again.
And to share a laugh when Kenny and Tom didn’t recognize it. To them, Shane normally quoted old black and whites, and he wondered if Christian would recognize any of those.
But then Christian said, making the older men laugh, “‘Real diamonds! They must be worth their weight in gold!’”
Shane smiled at him and Christian realized what he’d done. He said, “My mom loves Marilyn Monroe, loves old black and white movies. She used to watch them all the time.”
Tom sat back in his seat. “There is no need to make excuses, Christian. Not here, not with us.”
That shut Christian up. And he said no more than two words for the rest of the meal.
Shane wanted to hug him, wanted to grab his hand and just tell him it was okay.
But he wasn’t sure it ever would be.
Hugs and kisses were shared as they rose to leave. Tom shook Christian’s hand instead of kissing his cheek and said, “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent. Eleanor Roosevelt. Fascinating woman; she was outspoken and controversial at a time when women weren’t. And she is considered today to be one of the most widely admired of her century.”
Kenny hooked his arm through Tom’s. “Give our love to Cassandra. And tell her to be nice.”
Shane smiled. “I will. And I won’t.”
Kenny chuckled. “Wise.” And then he squeezed Tom’s arm and pulled him away, saying, “I’m in the mood for a black and white. Let’s swing by the Silent Movie Theatre for a show tonight.”
Shane watched them leave, feeling like he always did when he saw them together. He basked in their love, he pushed down his jealousy.
They’d been together nearly forty years and in quiet moments, when too much wine had been drunk, both Kenny and Tom would cry at their luck. So lucky to find the one who could heal hurts when they’d been so young. They’d had so many years together, so many memories, and they’d always had each other. They’d never been alone.
Shane and Christian walked slowly to the car, silently, and Shane didn’t realize Christian was angry until he said, “Why did you bring me to meet them?”
His voice was low, his hands clenched. At meeting Kenny and Tom.
Shane’s jaw dropped. “You didn’t like them?”
“Was it to trick me into admitting that I’m. . .that I’m like them.”
“I don’t need to trick you. And I don’t need you to admit anything.”
“I don’t want to be like them, like that.”
Shane pushed down his own anger and said with as much calm as he could muster, “You don’t want to be happy? You don’t want to be loved? You don’t want to be authentic?” He waved at Christian’s shirt. “This is what you’d rather be, an actor? An actor dressing in a costume and saying lines you don’t believe.”
“It’s not an act, Shane. This is who I am.”
Shane shook his head. “You know, every once in a while I get a glimpse of the real Christian. He’s funny and geeky and silly. He’s unapologetic, and every time he comes out to play I fall head over heels in love with him. But you hide him. Because he’s been hurt over and over again. He’s been rejected over and over again.”
Shane’s anger dissipated as quickly as it came because he knew that was the truth.
Shane didn’t reach for Christian’s hand, here in public, even though he wanted to. “I wanted to show you Kenny and Tom because that’s what I want for us in forty years. I didn’t show them to you to trick you, I brought you here to show what is possible. What love can look like, because I don’t think you’ve ever seen it before.”
Christian got in the car, slamming the door behind him. Shane didn’t follow. He leaned against the trunk of the car and folded his arms, and finally felt rejected himself. It had taken thirty years; he should feel lucky it had taken this long.
He didn’t.
He wasn’t sure he could handle the rejection any better than Christian had. Christian didn’t want to be like them, he didn’t want to be like that.
Shane had shown Christian the most beautiful thing he knew of and Christian couldn’t see it. Didn’t want it. Didn’t think it was beautiful.
The car door opened slowly and Christian said quietly, “I’ve seen love. But you’re right, I’ve never seen it in that combination before.”
Shane blinked rapidly, tipping his head up. He turned to look at Christian, who sat with his head in his hands, his shoulders slumped.
Shane took a deep breath, preparing for rejection again, but asking anyway. “But you saw it today. Didn’t you?”
Christian stayed silent, continued to stare a hole in the pavement. And Shane remembered what Tom had said. That sometimes there was only hope.
Christian finally looked up, looked at Shane and said, “I saw it today.”
Until, suddenly, hope was no longer needed.
They drove to the beach and walked through the sand. Shane didn’t touch Christian, didn’t hold his hand, just walked next to him. Smiling and watching the sun worshipers, the volleyball players, the muscle men.
Christian looked away from the skimpy swimsuits and out to the horizon. He stared at where the sky met the ocean, disappearing and blending into one.
His whole life he’d struggled. Fought himself.
He’d tried so hard to be good. But it had always been an act. He’d always had to work at being acceptable, to not do things that made his family uncomfortable. To not hear that worried silence that happened after he said or did something not quite right.
He stared at the ocean and missed his home. He missed his mountains.
California was full of hills but there was nothing here like the mountains in Utah. There was nothing like standing on the valley floor and looking up thousands of feet. The empty expanse of ocean couldn’t compete with it.
Christian had abandoned his home when he realized he couldn’t live there anymore. He’d slunk from his religion and his God when he couldn’t look at himself in the mirror anymore.
He looked down at his cargo pants rolled up to his calves, his muted green and blue plaid shirt.
r /> Shane had said it was a costume, but that wasn’t quite right. It was a uniform, and he’d adopted it when he realized he couldn’t trust what he liked to wear, when he understood that what he was attracted to wasn’t socially acceptable.
He closed his eyes, laughing at himself. Everything he was attracted to wasn’t socially acceptable.
He opened his eyes to look at Shane. So happy, so carefree. His sandy blond hair getting mussed by the breeze and the salt and the sand.
Christian couldn’t say it out loud. He couldn’t push it past his lips. He could hardly admit it to himself. That he looked at Shane and wanted him.
He turned back to the ocean, looking past the breaking waves. Past the surfers and the boats. Out to that endless nothing.
Nothing was hard to lose himself in, and once again he wished for his mountains. Something to look at, something to wander up when he needed to be alone. Something to distract himself when life turned out to be impossible.
He’d spent a lot of years in his mountains back home, which had relieved both him and his parents. Hiking and the outdoors was manly, wasn’t it?
His family loved him, and he loved them.
But he wasn’t what they thought he should be. Even though he’d tried.
He didn’t really know who he was, he’d been pretending for so long.
Fun, and geeky, and silly? Only when he wasn’t careful. Only when he wasn’t trying to be socially acceptable.
He looked back at the beach, at the tanned bodies shown off by scraps of material and knew that what was socially acceptable changed.
Maybe one day same love wouldn’t turn heads. Maybe a boy who loved to dress up in his mother’s high heels and makeup, who loved to feel pretty, could just be himself.
He didn’t blame his parents. They hadn’t known what to do with a son who didn’t conform. They’d had no answers and had tried their best.
And now Christian was standing in the same place. He had no answers and could only do his best.
He’d known for years that he could never marry. He wouldn’t have children or a family. He would be alone.
And then Shane had come. And Christian wasn’t alone anymore.
And Christian wondered what happened when you changed your social circle, what happened when socially acceptable changed. What happened when you could have what you wanted.
Shane said, “We can swing by Cassandra’s tonight. She’d like to meet you.”
“I’m afraid.” And Christian was only half joking.
“You don’t need to be. She’s going to love you.”
Christian raised his eyebrows. “It worries me that you can say that with a straight face. And all I know about her is what Kenny and Tom said.”
Shane repeated emphatically, “She will love you. Eventually.”
Christian nodded his acquiescence. He thought it might be better to get this out of the way. And he thought that if she didn’t like him, it might end this thing before it even started.
Shane smiled at him so happily that Christian felt bad for even thinking that.
Shane whipped out his phone, dialing. “Cass! I want to bring my. . .Christian around for you to meet. We’ll bring dinner.”
Christian flicked his eyes to Shane, wondering what he’d been about to say, and saw when Shane’s face went blank. He stopped walking and shouted into the phone, “You’ve moved in with Penthouse? What is going on!”
He listened, saying, “It’s an hour away,” and then, “Pool? We’ll get our suits and head on over.”
He put his phone away and muttered, “She’s in Brentwood. I don’t know what she’s doing.”
“You said you wanted to bring your. . .” Christian held his hands up in question. “What were you going to say?”
“Cassandra always quotes, ‘a bird and a fish can fall in love, but where will they live?’ I’m the bird; she’s the fish. She calls you my pretty little bird.”
Christian didn’t know what to say to that so he asked, “Do you love her?”
“I do. She’s my best friend. I’ll always love her. I know she’ll always love me.”
“Even now that she’s moved in with. . .Penthouse?”
Shane shrugged that off. “That’s not love, that’s a little bit of fun. She hasn’t even told me his real name.”
“Is that what we are? A little bit of fun.”
Shane stopped. “No. That’s not what we are. You’re too much work to be a little bit of fun.”
He smiled and Christian thought that was exactly right. This wasn’t fun.
Four
Shane and Christian drove to Brentwood, stopping for their suits on the way, and Christian put the thought of Shane in his bathing suit out of his mind. As much as he could.
When they got to the hotel, Shane pushed Christian toward the changing room. He said, “Why don’t you go put your suit on. I’ll go find Cassandra.”
Christian grinned. “You’re not worried at all about us meeting, are you?”
When he was changed, he found Shane talking to a woman in a bright blue bikini, black sunglasses on. She was smiling and laughing, and when Shane waved Christian over, she stopped smiling and turned.
She waited until he was close enough to hear to say, “I’ve seen him before. He was wearing black and white then, too.”
Shane stared at Christian’s long board shorts and said, “I can’t even see your knees. I think you might be hopeless.”
Cassandra grinned. “He’s from Utah. You have to make excuses.”
She pulled her sunglasses down her nose and ran her eyes down Christian’s chest. “The fashion might be farm boy but so is the body. You’ve got to take the bad with the good, Shane.”
Christian blushed and Shane said, “Oh, good. It’s not just me who makes him do that.”
Christian said, mostly to stop them talking about him like he wasn’t there, “Hello, Cass. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
Her mouth pinched together and she pushed her glasses back up. “Hello, Chris.”
“Christian.”
“Cassandra.”
Shane clapped his hands. “Okay. Glad that’s out of the way. Is Penthouse coming out to play?”
Cassandra shook her head. “He’s working.”
“And you’re out here by yourself. I hope the drive is worth it.”
She smiled. “We worked it out.”
Shane’s brows pulled together and he looked at her body in her little bikini. “Well, you look whole and well. I won’t complain about him yet.”
She looked at Christian, up, then down, and said to Shane, “There’s no reason for you to complain. You’re not getting replaced by Dudley Do-Right.”
Christian said, “I’m not Canadian.”
He realized he was much more comfortable with her antagonism than the flat out welcome he’d received from Kenny and Tom earlier in the day. He’d have to think about what that meant.
Shane sat slowly. “Am I getting replaced?”
Cassandra and Christian both looked at him. Christian didn’t even think, just took the last few remaining steps to sit next to him on the lounge chair, to be with him when he was sad.
Cassandra took her glasses off, her eyes on Christian. She said, “You’re not getting replaced, Shane. He’s just a little bit of fun.”
Christian said, “That’s what you said, remember? Just a little bit of fun.”
Shane was still looking at Cassandra. “I know. But then she smiled when she was thinking of him.”
Christian said, “Well, then, it must be just a little bit of fun. It’s not worrying until there’s some work to go along with it, a little frown that tempers the smile.”
Shane lips moved, and he turned his head to Christian. “That is reassuring on so many levels.” He said to Cassandra, “Is there any work going on between you two?”
She lifted her arms, holding them out wide to indicate her drink, the pool, the heat of the sun. “There’s not an ounce of work g
oing on here. Not by me.”
Shane took a deep breath, then pushed himself up using Christian’s thigh. “Then I won’t worry about it. And I will go put my suit on and forget about work for a little while myself.”
Cassandra said, “Good luck with that. Christian looks like he’s going to be a lot of work.”
Christian stood, heading to the edge of the pool. “I’ll wait for you in the pool.” He dove in and swam to the other side.
Cassandra grinned at Shane. “That was fun.”
“Do you think you could be done? I don’t want him scared off.”
“Could I scare him off? And if I could, would you still think he’s the real thing?”
“Yes. I know that you’ll like him if you give him a chance.”
She sighed. “He’s it, Shane? He’s the love that will last through thick and thin?”
“You’ll see.”
She only said, “He’s in the pool. Don’t waste it.”
“I’m going to go get dressed. Or undressed.” He looked at where Christian was in the pool, too far away to hear. “That’s more fun when he can hear it. And later, you and me, we’re going to discuss Penthouse.”
“He’s only for fun, Shane. A distraction for now, when I need it. I still love only you.”
“I don’t want you to love only me. I just want veto power.”
She laughed, waving him inside. “Go get your suit on so you can play with your friend. And think about whether you want me to have veto power.”
He walked away, saying over his shoulder, “You do have it. I know you’ll only use it if you’re sure.”
Cassandra’s stomach clenched. She hated to agree with Christian, on principal, but he was right. Love was work. Love was a constant balance between what you wanted and what was good for the one you loved.
She watched Christian swim back and forth, purposeful and not having any fun, and finally sighed. She had some work to do.
She drained her drink and jumped into the cool water to chase after him. She swam right into his path and he stopped, his head popping to the surface.