Paris a to Z

by Marie Sexton

  “I can go to Front Range in Longmont to get my GED. Theres a seminar to get ready, and then I have to take the test there. But after that, I can do a bunch online.”

  “Thats good.”

  “But if that works out, Zach….” And here he hesitated again, his cheeks turning red. “I wanna go to a real school.”

  “Like CU?”

  He shrank in on himself a bit at that. “Not that big,” he said. “I was thinkin maybe UNC in Greeley.”

  “You want us to move to Greeley?”

  He looked more unsure of himself now. “Maybe.”

  I wasnt sure how I felt about that—Id never been impressed with the place myself—but I hadnt been there in more than ten years. Like most of the cities along the Front Range, it had grown and changed a lot in that time. And besides, what Angelo was talking about was still two or three years away. My gut told me that was about as long as we could expect the video store in Coda to last anyway. We had plenty of time to formulate a plan.

  “What do you want to study at UNC?”

  “I dont know,” he said, shrugging. “Its not like I want to go be an accountant like Jon or anything. I just….” He stopped, looking embarrassed again. “I just want to learn more.”

  “Theres nothing wrong with that,” I assured him, and he looked relieved. “You still havent told me what happened with Jon.”

  “I been thinkin bout goin back to school for a while. But I wasnt sure I could do it, and I was scared to try. So today, we were at the church. Cole and me. And I was standin in the jewel box. And it was like… an epiphany, I guess. Cause I knew in that moment I could do it, Zach. And I was so excited, and I wanted to tell you, but you werent there. So I told Cole.” He stopped short, looking worried. “You mad?”

  “Why would I be?”

  “Cause I told Cole before I told you.”

  “Im not mad,” I assured him. Yes, he had told Cole first, but not because he trusted Cole more. It had only been because Cole had been there with him and I hadnt. “But Im still confused what it has to do with Jon.”

  “Well, when we got back, Cole mustve talked to him. Jons his accountant, you know.” I didnt know that, but it made sense. “And Jon came to me. He said Cole told him he wanted to pay for me to go back to school. He told Jon to set up an account for me.”

  “Holy shit!”

  “I told him no.”

  “Holy shit!”

  “And Jon said he understood why I didnt want to take Coles money, even though he said Cole could afford to send me to college ten times over and not blink an eye. But he said he could set it up as a loan, and I could pay Cole back. He said hed even charge me interest if itd make me feel better.”

  “Thats incredible!”

  “Still not sure I want it, Zach,” he said. “Seems wrong to take it, even as a loan.” Turning the money down did seem like the honorable thing to do. I wasnt sure I could have been so honorable in his place. “Jon said there were other loans, too, and hed help me with the applications. He told me to think about it and call him when Im ready.”

  “Thats great.”

  “Not sure yet if I want to try to do it by myself, or if thats just stupid.”

  “One step at a time,” I told him. “We can take care of the community college. That gives us a couple of years to decide about the rest.” I pulled him close again and kissed the top of his head. “Well work it out,” I said.

  That was obviously what he needed to hear. His eyes were bright and clear, and he smiled up at me with obvious relief. “I love you,” he said.

  I knew how he felt about me, but it was still a rare thing for him to be able to say the words. And this time he sounded more sure saying them than he ever had before. “You are my north,” I said, and he laughed.

  “Zach?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Shut up and kiss me.”

  He sure as hell didnt have to tell me twice.

  THE next day we went to the Louvre. Angelo was unbelievably excited. He had a list of things he wanted to see. I figured Id be lucky to be able to keep up.

  The place was completely insane. It was far bigger than any museum had a right to be. The first thing we did was make sure everybody had everybody elses cell phone numbers because there was no way wed be able to stay together. Then we picked one of the cafés as a meeting point. And then we started.

  Matt, Jared, and George went one way. Cole was, of course, leading Angelo by the hand to see something (I didnt know what), and I found, to my complete dismay, that I was left with Jonathan.

  The two of us walked in an awkward silence, trailing behind Angelo and Cole. They moved quickly, never staying long at any one piece. They were both beautiful, although in very different ways, and they obviously enjoyed being together. Angelo looked back at me occasionally, and I saw flirtatious looks between Jon and Cole, but they didnt feel inclined to slow down for us, and neither Jon nor I seemed quite as excited about the art anyway.

  “Theyre a lot alike, arent they?” Jon said at last, breaking the silence between us.

  Id been thinking the exact same thing. “They are.”

  “And yet,” Jon said with confusion, “nothing alike at all.” And, of course, I knew what he meant. Angelo wasnt at all flamboyant or feminine, as Cole was. And I was pretty sure Cole had never in his life owned a pair of combat boots.

  “Jared said Coles dad is dead, and he and his mom dont get along?”

  “She barely even acknowledges him.”

  “Because hes gay?”

  He shook his head. “No. Because shes a selfish bitch. He invited her to the wedding, of course. If he was having a huge event, where she could be seen, shed probably come. But not for anything this low-key. She claimed she was busy. Too busy to see her only son get married.” He glanced over at me. “I havent even met her yet,” he said, “but Im not sure I can be gracious when I do.”

  “Angelos never known his dad,” I told him. “He left before he was born. His mom left, too, when he was little. He grew up in foster homes.” I wondered briefly if I should be telling him these things, but it helped explain why Angelo and Cole seemed to be kindred spirits, and it helped keep my mind off of other things. “She just got back in touch with him again a couple of years ago. He tries to keep an open mind, but he hasnt really forgiven her yet.” Lizzy had invited Neta to Christmas the year before without telling Angelo. Shed probably envisioned tearful forgiveness in front of the tree on Christmas morning. It hadnt happened. Although Angelo had handled the incident better than I might have expected, it was quite clear he wasnt ready to let twenty years of abandonment go. And it sure hadnt endeared Lizzy to him any either.

  Jon looked ahead to where Cole and Angelo stood side by side, their heads tipped together as they discussed the painting they stood in front of. “Do you find it strange that weve ended up with men who are so much alike?” Jon asked, looking over at me. It was something that had occurred to me, too, but I was surprised he would say anything. It was a question that seemed to step dangerously close to that empty place inside us both— the place that had been us. “I think,” he went on shakily, “it explains a lot.”

  His eyes on mine were nervous, and seemed to be begging me for some kind of explanation. I turned away without giving him an answer. It wasnt that I had none to give. It was simply that I was too much of a coward.

  AFTER a few hours in the Louvre, I was lost and completely overwhelmed. Everything became jumbled, one painting blurring into the next. Even the Mona Lisa was a bit of a disappointment. I was relieved when the day was finally over.

  Dinner that night was a lot of fun. Unlike restaurants back home, the wait staff didnt rush to bring us our drinks or our food. In fact, they didnt rush to do anything. They also didnt shove the check under anybodys nose the minute they brought dessert. It seemed to be expected that we would linger for hours, and we did.

  Cole seemed to feel it was easier to simply order for us, and we had plates and plates of food fi
lling our table. We had both red and white wine.

  “I picked a Spanish Gran Reserva for you, Zach,” Cole said. “I know Jonny likes Chianti, but Im sure he can make do.” I found it strange that he knew my favorite wine, and when I looked at Jon, I could see that it embarrassed him. But it sure didnt stop me from drinking the wine.

  “This food is amazing,” Matt said, and everybody agreed. Everybody except Jon.

  “This is nothing,” he said, smiling at Cole. “We should make Cole cook some night. His cookings even better.”

  Cole grinned at him. “You say that every time,” he said, but I could tell he was pleased.

  Matt surprised me by getting a bit more drunk than he normally did. He was usually so reserved and in control, but when he was drunk, he was looser. He laughed more. And he let himself touch Jared more. One minute he was talking football with George, and the next thing I knew he had a handful of Jareds hair and was whispering something into his ear. Next to him, George looked absolutely stunned. He looked over at Jon in surprise.

  “You spent the whole day with them,” Jon said in amusement. “You never figured it out.”

  “I thought they were friends,” George said.

  “We are,” Jared said. “Were just friends who spend a lot of time together naked.” Matt laughed, although he still had his lips on Jareds neck. One of his hands moved to Jareds thigh. He pulled Jareds hair harder and said something else in his ear. Jareds eyes actually drifted shut, and his cheeks started to turn red.

  “My goodness, doll,” Cole said, “youre making him blush!”

  Matt pulled away from Jared, and although his cheeks were a bit red, he met Coles gaze with a mocking smile. “Are you talking to me?” he asked in a perfect Robert DeNiro impression.

  “Who else would I be talking to?”

  “Angelo.”

  Angelos eyebrows went up in surprise, as did Coles. “Angelos not the one climbing into Jareds lap at the dinner table,” Cole said.

  “I know,” Matt said, “but you said „doll, which is Angelo.” He grinned wickedly at Cole. “Im buttercup, remember?”

  For a moment, Cole was actually speechless, something I suspected didnt happen very often. His mouth was open, but he seemed to have no idea what to say. And then his entire face seemed to open up—like whatever mask hed been wearing was suddenly gone, revealing something underneath that was bright and unabashedly pleased—and he laughed. His laugh was light and melodious and feminine, but one hundred percent genuine. “Dear lord, you really do have a sense of humor! All this time, I thought Jared was making it up!”

  “Told you,” Jared said. His cheeks were still a bit red, and I could tell by the way he looked at Matt that he wished Matt was still whispering in his ear.

  “Matts cool,” Angelo said to Cole, although he winked over at Matt as he said it. “You just piss him off more than anybody else on the planet, thats all.”

  “Ive been assuming all this time you were cranky with everyone. Buttercup.”

  “Nope,” Matt said. “Just you.” It was strange to sit there while they discussed it so matter-of-factly. It was made even more strange by the wolfish grin on Matts face.

  Cole seemed to think about that for a minute. Then he stood up from the table. He walked around to where Matt sat. “Excuse me, sweets,” he said as he pushed Jared out of his chair, and pushed the chair out of the way. And then….

  He sat down in Matts lap. Matt was obviously surprised, but he wasnt about to let Cole get the upper hand, so he stayed still. Cole put his arms around Matts neck and leaned in close to him. They were practically nose to nose, and I thought for sure that Cole was going to kiss him.

  “Oh, buttercup,” he said, “dont you know I was rooting for you all along?”

  Matt sat there, completely still, looking stunned as he thought about it, much as Cole had done a few moments before. And suddenly, he threw his head back and burst out laughing. Unlike Coles laugh, Matts was deep and loud, something that came from deep inside his chest and made everyone in the restaurant turn our way. It made Cole smile too. He leaned forward and whispered something in Matts ear, and kissed him on the cheek. Matt was still laughing. And then, in the blink of an eye, Cole was up again, patting Jared on the arm and putting his chair back, and calling to the waiter in French for something (I suspected it was more wine).

  “Can you believe it?” Angelo asked me, quiet enough that only I heard. “Never thought Mattd be able to let it go and be Coles friend.”

  “It is surprising.”

  “Surprising? Its crazy! Its like theres somethin bout Paris that makes people want to forgive each other. And be in love. And get married!”

  “Youre drunk.”

  He laughed. “Maybe,” he said. “But you still have no sense of romanticism.”

  He turned away from me then, to ask George a question. Everybody was talking again and laughing. But I was watching Matt and Jared. I saw Jared slide his hand across the table to grip Matts arm. I saw the look he gave him. It was relief and thankfulness. And love. And the look Matt gave him in return was like he was barely managing to keep from jumping Jared right there at the table. And I knew they sure as hell werent going to be fighting that night either.

  Maybe Angelo was right. Maybe there was something.

  I still suspected it was the wine.

  THE next morning was Sunday. It was the day of the ceremony and the Super Bowl. There was a knock on our door again around eight. Angelo was in the shower, so I dragged myself out of bed to answer it. It was Jon, wearing his jogging clothes.

  “Matts a bit hung over,” he said. “You up for a run?”

  And that was how I found myself jogging with my ex along the banks of the Seine on the very morning of his wedding. It was simply too weird for words.

  The sky was clear, and the air was crisp and cold. The narrow brick trail was lined with trees on one side and the sparkling river on the other, occasionally passing under arched stone bridges. Majestic white buildings rose on the opposite bank. I wondered what they were. Angelo would have known. Jon might have, too, but I was reluctant to ask.

  Even jogging in a place so foreign, everything about it was familiar. The tempo of our feet slapping against the pavement, our breath visible in the frosty air, the line of his shoulders and his back as he jogged in front of me. He had ever been a step or two ahead.

  “Youre slower,” he said jokingly after the first mile.

  “I was always slow,” I reminded him. “You never did like to wait for me.”

  I regretted saying it immediately. Once again, it felt like we had stepped too close to that piece of us that we could not face, and we didnt talk again for at least a mile.

  When we were almost back to the hotel, he stopped at a café for a bottle of water. I couldnt help watching him as he drank it. I still found him attractive, although not in the purely exotic way that Angelo was. Jon was more the boy next door, always with his hair well cut and his clothes just right.

  Even in the cold morning air, he was sweating from the run, and the dark hair at his temples stuck to his skin. I thought about all the mornings wed returned from runs and fallen into bed together, hot and sweaty and so crazy about each other we could hardly get our clothes off fast enough. We always showered together afterward.

  Sweat ran down his neck as he drank half the bottle, and I remembered what it felt like to run my lips up his throat, and the way his Adams apple felt underneath my tongue. I remembered the way he tasted, and the way one hand always gripped my thigh as he pushed into me. I felt my body stir a bit at that thought, and I immediately felt guilty.

  “Zach,” he said, interrupting my thoughts. He was holding the bottled water out to me. I took it, feeling myself blush. His eyes on me were incredibly intense, and I had the uncomfortable feeling that he knew what Id been thinking. Even worse, I could feel his eyes on me as I took my drink of water. I couldnt help but wonder what memory jumped into his mind. Was it the way Id kissed him, or t
he sounds I made when we made love? Or was it the way Id turned away when hed asked me who Id been with the night before?

  Id loved him so much.

  I almost choked on the water, and I had to fight hard against a sudden lump in my throat. “Are you okay?” he asked. I closed my eyes

  and took a deep, shaking breath of air. When I looked at him again, I didnt see desire in his eyes. I didnt see condemnation either. I saw sympathy.

  “Zach,” he said, stepping close to me and taking my hand. “It doesnt have to be like this.”

  And God help me, at that moment, I wanted nothing more than to kiss him. I wanted to go back to the hotel and undress him one more time and forget the twelve years that wed lost. But hot on its heels came the guilt.

  I closed my eyes, pulling away, stepping backward and almost knocking over some poor old woman walking by.

  I hated myself. What I had done to him was bad enough. But how could I even think about going back now? He was about to marry Cole. And I had Angelo. Angelo, who I loved unconditionally. Who loved me unconditionally. I would have done anything for him. And yet, for just a moment there, Id forgotten about him completely. Id betrayed him. And the fact that he never had to know about it didnt change a thing.

  “Zach?” Jon said, but I turned away. I walked away, and left him there alone. I was relieved when he let me go.

  I COULDN'T go back to the hotel. I couldnt face Angelo. I was sure that he would take one look at me and somehow know what I had done. He would look in my eyes and see the desire I had felt for another man. And not just any man either, but Jonathan, the man hed always been jealous of.

  It was absurd. I didnt want Jonathan back. Not really. It was far too late to try to reclaim what we might have had, and I wouldnt have given up Angelo for anything. But I couldnt help wondering how different my life would be if I had only faced Jonathan rather than driving him away.