Someone Like You

by Timothy J Beck

  It was the first time Hunter had laughed in so long, and it felt like a gift from Derek. At least the mystery of the key chain was cleared up. The brass D had been for “Deere,” not “Drayden.” And not…

  Davii. Hunter finally knew where Derek was. His parents weren’t covering for him in Evansville. Derek was in New York with Davii. All the relief he’d felt upon realizing that Derek had never been involved with Drayden Lvandsson and wasn’t with Christian Mercer evaporated. He’d lost him to another man after all. No one—Garry, Vienna, Sheree, or Juanita—could explain it away. Derek was really gone.

  Hunter walked back to his apartment in a daze. For hours, he relived his life, beginning with the childhood story of the cuckoo and ending with Derek’s flight to freedom. But he didn’t simply mentally replay his memories. He sat down at Derek’s computer and typed them all out, knowing that he could never tell them the way his storyteller would, but that they had to be told. He held nothing back, struggling to find words for his love, his fear, his need, and his hope.

  The sun was coming up when he finished. He printed everything out and, not pausing for a chance to talk himself out of it, sealed it in an envelope, wrote Derek’s name on the outside, and took it to Vienna’s apartment, sliding it under the door. Even if she wouldn’t talk to Garry and give him and Hunter the chance to explain themselves, Hunter had a feeling that Vienna would make sure Derek got the envelope.

  He waited, knowing that only Derek would be able to find the right ending for his story. Several days passed, until one morning, after he finished getting ready for work, he walked into his living room. He saw the envelope lying where it had been pushed under his door. With a leaden feeling in his stomach, he crossed the room, bent, and picked it up.

  38

  The Short-Terminator

  “Finally,” Vienna said when the sound of the doorbell cut through the silence in her living room. Like a Pavlovian response, relief washed over her, and she felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She opened the door and greeted the woman on the other side, ushering her into the apartment and pointing toward the pillowcases full of dolls. “There they are.”

  “I know a lot of little girls who’ll be thrilled to have them,” the woman said. She peered inside a pillowcase, saying, “And so many! What darling little clothes. I can’t thank you enough for donating them to our charity. Let me write out a receipt.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” Vienna insisted impatiently. “Please just take them away.”

  The woman shrugged and said, “If you say so. Thank you again.”

  “Just one second, please,” Vienna said. She went into her bedroom and returned a moment later, handing the woman a plastic bag. “Can you use these? They’re my wigs. You probably know women who need them far more than I do.”

  “How wonderful!” the woman exclaimed. “I’ll pass these on to Emily-Anne Barrister. She works with Locks of Love, and I’m sure they’ll have use for them. Thank you so much for your generosity.”

  Once the dolls and wigs were gone, Vienna felt liberated. It had been two weeks since the Big Bang Benefit, and her house, except for Derek’s absence, was in order. She had to complete only one more task to return harmony to her universe. As she had so often since moving to the mall, she left her apartment to fill out an application.

  An hour later, she was chewing on the end of her pen until she realized what she was doing and stopped. Oral fixations were so unbecoming. She flipped through the rest of the application, looking at the probing questions, realizing how daunting it all seemed. She’d never trusted applications to completely represent her as a complex and multifaceted individual. She pored over every answer, hoping she’d covered all the bases, leaving nothing open for interpretation.

  “A fifteen-page statement following guidelines from sections one and two. Done,” Vienna said to herself, putting the essay into a manila envelope. “Release form. Done. Statements from Kevin and Laura. Thanks, kids,” she said, adding the photocopies to the envelope. “Proof of malpractice insurance. Yes. Bless your little heart, Chubb. Couldn’t have done it without you.”

  She added the application to the envelope and addressed it to the Committee on Professional Practice and Ethics. Reapplying for her license to practice psychology was the most daunting task she’d faced in a long time, and she felt nervous just sealing the envelope. Her suspension had expired the previous month, and it was time to get her life back on track, to make her mother proud again.

  Vienna sipped her tea, then added another packet of sugar, idly stirring as she surveyed the mall. Everybody looked happy, energetic, or full of purpose as they walked down the corridors. It was a busy day, and the mall was filled with families, couples, and friends, all walking, laughing, and talking without a care in the world.

  Construction had begun that morning on Mall of the Universe’s latest attraction. A roller coaster, The Universal Express, was being built on the mall’s roof. Slated to open within a year, it would feature dizzying drops, twists, and speeds up to seventy miles per hour. Vienna couldn’t wait, since she’d always loved a good thrill. Although perhaps nothing would ever compare to the ride with Derek and Company that began the day she walked into employee orientation at Drayden’s.

  She missed Derek. She missed the way he’d filled Davii’s space in the apartment with his sweetness and his wacky stories. Then again, his stories were no more outlandish than the real-life craziness he’d brought with him. Breaking and entering and doll theft were not the norm for a preacher’s kid or a doctor of psychology.

  She missed prank-calling with him at work, although she knew they were better off moving on from Women’s Shoes and Cosmetics. She would never regret the job, though, since it had brought Derek, Christian, Bianca, Meg, Emily-Anne, DeWitt, Drayden, and even Natasha into her life. She’d learned something from all of them.

  Vienna finished her tea, collected her things, and walked through the mall. Moments later, she walked out of Mail Boxes Etc. feeling light and happy, one step closer to professional joy. She imagined a time in the not-so-distant future when she’d have her license again. She would open an office on the Stars level and start her own practice, facilitating group therapy sessions, helping families, and offering discounted sessions to mall employees. If she’d learned anything over the past two years, it was that the mall was rife with people in need of therapy.

  She walked through the crowds on the Earth level until a man approached her and asked, “Would you like a sample of our almond hand cream? It’s infused with essential oils!”

  Instead of running away from the Cart Person, Vienna said, “Take me to your leader.”

  “He’s over there,” the Cart Person said, pointing toward the courtyard.

  “Thank you,” Vienna said. She walked to the courtyard, and before sitting down at Cart Man’s table, she opened her purse and removed a tissue. She handed it to him and said, “I’ve been meaning to return this to you for quite some time. Thanks for loaning it to me.”

  “Cleaned and pressed, too,” Garry said, taking it from her. “How thoughtful.”

  Vienna sat down, and Garry moved his chair closer, drawing her forward and pressing his lips to hers. The only voice Vienna heard in her head was her own, cheering loudly. She kissed him again and said, “I’d love to do this all day, but I have to get back to work.”

  “No. You have to stay with me and be Queen of the Cart People,” Garry said, pulling her onto his lap and holding her tight.

  “That is enticing,” Vienna said. “But I always wanted to be an overlord.”

  “It’s always a power struggle with you.”

  “Do you see me struggling?” Vienna asked. “Did you talk to your parents yet?”

  “Yes. They’re not amused that their son is now in the cart industry,” Garry said with a sigh. “However, my mother called me back later and said she’d work on my father. Regardless, I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Music to my ears,�
�� Vienna said. She kissed Garry’s hand, then wriggled free of his grasp. She collected her things and said, “I’ll see you later. I’m making you dinner tonight.”

  “Okay,” he said, grinning.

  “And every night,” she said, calling over her shoulder as she walked away, “forever!”

  She walked to Drayden’s, smiling the entire way and wondering what she should cook for Garry. She frowned suddenly, remembering that she’d agreed to meet Meg and her girlfriend that night for drinks. She shrugged, knowing that Meg would understand. She’d make some joke about Vienna’s heart being captured by the enemy and agree to reschedule.

  Vienna took the escalator to the top floor of Drayden’s and walked past the Customer Service counter, waving brightly when the representatives greeted her. She entered the Human Resources offices, stopped at an assistant’s desk, and asked, “Did I get any calls, Charmaine?”

  “No. But here’s a new copy of the employee conduct manual,” Charmaine said. “There’s a conflict between two employees in Fine Jewelry that you need to resolve when you have a moment.”

  “Commission again?” Vienna asked.

  “What else?” Charmaine answered.

  “I love a good conflict,” Vienna said. “Bring it on.”

  “You’re the only one around here who does,” Charmaine said, shaking her head. “It’s a good thing Mr. Lvandsson talked you into taking this job.”

  “It’s only a short-term arrangement,” Vienna said emphatically. “Don’t get used to my being here.”

  “Whatever you say,” Charmaine said. “Oh. There’s a man in your office.”

  “New hire?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Okay. Tell the Fine Jewelry manager that I’ll be downstairs shortly,” Vienna said and walked into her office. When she saw Davii sitting with his feet on her desk, she laughed and said, “Comfy?”

  “You’re so lucky,” he said as he got up and hugged her. “I don’t have an office.”

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “I heard there was trouble in paradise. I’ve got some free time, so I thought I’d come see my number-one girl,” he replied.

  “And she’s so happy you did,” Vienna said. “But this is a trouble-free zone now.” She threw her arms around him again and said, “I’ve missed you!”

  “I’ve missed you, too,” he said. “Oh, my aching butt. We flew into Indianapolis this morning, then took the shuttle from hell. This has been the longest day ever!”

  Vienna pulled back and said, “Child, I’ve got stories.”

  “Me, too,” Davii said. “Let’s have lunch.”

  “Okay!” Vienna agreed. They walked out of her office arm in arm, and Vienna said, “Charmaine, call Fine Jewelry and tell them I’ll see them later this afternoon, okay? I’ll be right back!”

  39

  Across the Universe

  Derek sat on the other side of Cortlandt Barrister’s desk and tried not to squirm. Watching a blue pencil dance its way down pages of words he’d written fell on the discomfort scale somewhere between final exams and prostate exams. Even if he didn’t expect to fail, the experience made him anxious. It didn’t help that Mr. Barrister never stopped frowning while he read. Davii had laughed when he read it. But Davii loved him, and as gratifying as that was, Derek knew he wasn’t his toughest critic.

  Even if things didn’t turn out the way Derek hoped, he was glad he’d taken the risk. He’d spent the entire night after the Big Bang on the roof of the Congreve, brooding over his next move. Before the sun came up, he slipped into his apartment in the Galaxy Building without waking Vienna and threw some basics into an oversized backpack. He wrote her a note telling her that he was okay; he just needed to get away for a while.

  His first call had been to Emily-Anne Barrister, who’d helped him connect with her husband. Then he’d rented a car, driven to Indianapolis, and caught the first flight he could get to New York, where he’d practically collapsed into Davii’s arms at LaGuardia. He’d slept through almost two full days before he felt ready to explore Manhattan with Davii as his guide.

  His cell phone vibrated. As discreetly as he could, he pulled it from his pocket and glanced down. After a moment, the display alerted him that he had a text message. He looked at Mr. Barrister, who was still frowning while he read. Derek carefully pushed buttons until the message appeared: “Daddy and I are thinking about you. Good luck! Mom.”

  He grinned, wondering which century she’d been researching on the Web at the library when she remembered that she was living in the electronic age and could wish her son well. Hopefully when he called her later to thank her, he’d have good news. Although Mr. Barrister’s expression wasn’t very promising when he dropped the pages to his desk and let the blue pencil fall on top of them.

  “I can always tell when a writer’s background is in English instead of journalism,” Mr. Barrister commented. “When you turn in your column each week, I want you to pick up my previous week’s edits. In time, I’m sure you’ll grasp that brevity is a virtue in the newspaper business.”

  Derek stared at him for a few seconds before saying, “You mean you’re going to publish it?”

  “Yes, Derek.” Mr. Barrister jammed a soggy, unlit cigar in his mouth. “When you came to me with your proposition, I told you what I wanted. An Oz-like microcosm. You’ve delivered.”

  “You don’t think the gay character might be a little too much?”

  “Which one’s gay?” Mr. Barrister asked. When Derek just gazed at him, he emitted either a grunt or a laugh; Derek couldn’t tell. “My point being, it’s subtle, Derek. You might know he’s gay; maybe some readers will, too. Some won’t. Maybe they’ll figure it out when someone writes an outraged letter to the editor. So what? I told you I wanted a diverse set of characters who were funny, flawed, and sympathetic. That’s what you gave me. I told you to plug the mall stores. You did. Half the people who take the paper are using it to line their litter boxes. If some old Holy Roller gets his knickers in a twist and complains, those people might read the paper before they let the cat crap on it. It’s all good. I’ve never used my papers to anesthetize the public; I’m not starting now. Make it funny, don’t get me sued for libel, and we’ll be working together until merchants stop advertising or I drop dead, whichever comes first.”

  “Don’t start smoking again,” Derek begged.

  After he left the Barrister building, Derek took a shuttle to the mall, eager to see Vienna. He’d missed her and wondered which mall store she’d decided to work in next. He also wanted to see Christian and thank him for never pointing out the obvious: that Derek should be writing stories, not selling shoes. And he was curious to find out what Davii was up to on his visit back to the mall.

  It was a letdown to find no one in his apartment. He decided to unpack before he started trying to track them down. An envelope was lying on his bed, and he picked it up, his heart pounding as he recognized Hunter’s handwriting. For a while, he was afraid to open it. He didn’t want to know what had happened during the two weeks he’d been in New York, or what new heartbreak he might be facing. Finally, he took out the pages and started reading Hunter’s story of his life and of the way his heart had been broken. He didn’t understand it all, especially the parts about Riley and Garry, but he finally had the answer to the single question that had tormented him for so long.

  After he stopped crying, he sat down at Vienna’s computer and wrote an account of his feelings before and after Hunter left, and of some of his experiences while Hunter was away. He finished by describing Cortlandt Barrister’s agreement to serialize his fictitious stories about the people in the mall in the Terre Haute Times.

  He printed the letter, put it in Hunter’s envelope, and walked to the Congreve, feeling a little anxious, because after he slid the envelope under the door, all he could do was wait for Hunter either to come home and read it, or to read it and open the door.

  Hunter, he thought,
please open the door.

  When Hunter opened the door, Derek was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall. Hunter held up the pages Derek had left, then extended his free hand. Derek took it, letting Hunter pull him into the apartment.

  After Hunter closed the door, he looked at Derek and said, “What was the question?”

  “Do you love me?” Derek asked.

  “How could you not know the answer to that?” Hunter asked.

  “You’ve never said it.”

  “Of course I have.”

  “No, you haven’t,” Derek argued. “Trust me. I’d remember.”

  Hunter appeared to think it over, then he said, “Does a man tell air that he loves breathing it?”

  “Maybe a man should, if he wants to keep breathing.”

  Hunter smiled and said, “Derek, I love you.” Derek wasn’t sure what expression flickered across his face that made Hunter suddenly embrace him. His mouth against Derek’s ear, Hunter whispered, “I love you more than the air I breathe. I’m glad I told you everything, even though I’m too late.”

  “Why do you think you’re too late?” Derek asked, his voice as low as Hunter’s.

  Still holding him, Hunter ran his hand over Derek’s hair and said, “Somebody was there for you when I wasn’t. Somebody loved you when you thought I didn’t. Somebody didn’t let you down.”

  Derek smiled and said, “Part of that’s true. Somebody was there. Vienna and Christian. Somebody does love me. Sheree and Juanita. Somebody didn’t let me down. Davii. Davii would have failed me as a friend if he hadn’t told me to try everything before I gave up on you and me. If he hadn’t urged me to give you a chance to work things out. If he hadn’t been there for me in New York when I needed him. If he hadn’t told me it was time to come home, even coming back with me, because he’s a true friend who knows that more than anything in the world, I love Hunter Congreve, who also never, never let me down, which is why I’m home.”