by Lane Hayes
He gave me a lopsided smile and made a “come here” motion with his forefinger. I did as he asked and came to stand in between his open thighs. “There are much better ways to spend a Sunday morning. Choose to be happy in the moment.”
I ran my fingers through his hair and leaned forward to kiss him just as he pulled me close to cup my ass. I was still sore from last night, but I loved the feeling. I loved the physical reminder he’d been inside me. It grounded me and somehow brought my focus securely on the present. Alex was right. Rehashing an old story would only make us both uncomfortable, and it wouldn’t change anything. Maybe it really was that simple after all. Choose to be happy.
Eleven
ALEX LET a couple weeks go by before he braved telling his father about his plan to come out in the LA Times article about the center. Part of it was nerves, but I sensed the timing was important too. He wanted to tell him as close as possible to the interview to avoid giving the old man the opportunity to talk him out of his decision.
I was anxious when we pushed open the door to Selena and Raul’s house after soccer practice. Alex told Milo we were having dinner at his house after practice that Wednesday, and when he mentioned his dad would be there, I knew that particular family dinner wasn’t going to be as lighthearted as usual. It started out well enough. The children kept things upbeat during dinner. Alex teased, cajoled, and made the kids giggle as he offered his version of everyone’s prowess on the field, including mine.
“Nate might be turning into a decent soccer player. What do you think, Milo?” Alex asked with a wicked gleam in his eye. He nudged my knee under the table playfully, so I had a good idea I was about to get thrown under the bus.
“Yeah. You’re good, Nate. Pretty fast too.” Milo lifted his fork to his mouth and nodded in agreement.
“For a white guy,” Alex smirked as he leaned away from me expecting retribution.
“Ha-ha. Thanks.” I pinched the inside of his thigh, making him literally jump out of his seat. Everyone chuckled at his over-the-top reaction while I rolled my eyes like a beleaguered boyfriend.
It was funny. On one hand I felt something akin to belonging in a familial sense in a way I hadn’t in years. The group was nothing like the family I grew up with. They were a touch irreverent, very noisy, and spoke Spanglish with a rhythm that said this was their preferred method of communication. The interaction at the dinner table alone was a study in ordered chaos. They never let me sit back and observe. Everyone was engaging and inclusive. Even Tonio. He had to know Alex and I were more than neighbors by now. Hell, he knew Alex was gay. The more I was around his father, I realized he simply didn’t want the words spoken aloud.
The minute the kids were excused to clean up and watch television before bedtime, I sprang out of my chair and grabbed a couple of plates to take into the kitchen for Selena. She and Raul were speaking in hushed tones but stopped the moment I walked in.
“Thank you for dinner.”
Raul stepped toward me to shake my hand and pat my back. “Any time, Nate. I’m going to supervise the little people. See you soon.”
I gave Selena a quick wave and started to turn when she spoke. “Un minuto, Nate.”
“Yes?”
She dried her hands on a bright orange dishcloth in a nervous twisting motion that made me instantly wary.
“Alex told me about tonight. About telling Papá. He’s difficult. I hope he doesn’t offend—”
I held up my hand. “Selena, it’s fine.”
“He’s a cranky old man sometimes. I hate it when he’s rude. Mamá would never put up with it. He gets like this when he misses her most. And then I think he’s hardest on Alejo because he reminds him of her but not really.” She gave me a weak smile that only made her eyes look unbearably sad.
“Your mother sounds like she was pretty amazing,” I ventured in a soft tone.
“She was. Alex is—he’s so like her. He looks like her, he’s smart like her, but most of all, he’s full of joy. Like Mamá. And sometimes I think that’s the source of all conflict between those two.” She angled her head toward the dining room where her brother and father were hopefully engaged in civil conversation. “There’s no winning when you try to please a ghost.”
Selena bowed her head and made a quick sign of the cross before standing on her toes to kiss my cheek. “Thank you for your kindness. Hasta.”
I stood still for a moment. Alex had used those same words about appeasing ghosts to warn me to live my own life. I had a feeling he had repeated his sister’s advice to him, and now he was in the next room following through. I thanked her again and made my way back to the dining room.
The second I stepped through the doorway I knew the fireworks had begun. Tonio sat rigidly in the high-back burgundy damask chair with his arms crossed, glaring at Alex.
“This is family business. You should leave,” Tonio commanded, his gaze still fixed on his son.
“Papá!”
The old man snorted dismissively but deigned to glance up at me. “My apologies. I was under the impression this was private. Why don’t you open the door and invite the neighbors in too? Let’s tell everyone, eh?”
Alex’s sharp look conveyed a direct message of “don’t worry, I got this.” I wrinkled my brow in confusion. The air crackled with unspoken turbulence, a mere hint at what might come. Both men made it clear I wasn’t expected to stay, and given that melodrama was not my forte, I couldn’t believe I wasn’t making a mad dash for the front door. Especially since we’d driven separately.
I couldn’t leave. Whether or not Alex needed my support, I wanted to be there for him. I reclaimed the chair next to him and waited for the fireworks to begin.
Tonio let out a resigned sigh and leaned heavily on the weathered dining table. His shrewd gaze swept between us before he refocused on Alex. He spoke in a low, serious tone in his native tongue. He knew I spoke and understood Spanish, but I sensed he used the language as a barrier. A reminder I wasn’t family.
“Why?” Tonio asked angrily.
“Papá, it’s old news. No one cares anymore. Some fans might remember my name but honestly I doubt it. I don’t think they’d think twice about me being gay.”
“You don’t think so, eh? I know you aren’t stupid, Alejo. Why pretend things are so different? Maybe in West Hollywood. You can hide there with your celebrity clients, cheering them when they run on hamster wheels in designer clothes.”
“You mean treadmills?” Alex snapped testily, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Those people are a small population, Alejo. They aren’t part of the real world. They don’t even know fútbol.”
“Not all, but some do. And many appreciate that things are changing. In American football, that kid came out and—”
Tonio waved his hand angrily. “Not important. Not significant. It isn’t real sport. Fútbol is real. Fútbol is—”
Alex pushed away from his chair in a sudden motion and stood. “Enough! I don’t play fútbol anymore! You seemed perfectly happy about that four years ago. Why bring up what can’t be changed? It’s over. My career ended. Why talk about the past? Nothing will be rewritten. Nothing.”
“Maybe not, but it must be guarded. Look at Armand and—” Tonio’s voice was low and full of meaning.
“Guarded?” Alex took a deep breath. His handsome face contorted into an awful sneer. “Guarded? As in, let’s pretend?”
Tonio’s silence was his answer.
“I’m not going to deny the truth anymore, Papá. It’s over.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I’m gay. You’ve known it almost as long as I have, so let’s stop the act. I don’t care about Armand anymore. I hate that I gave up a piece of my career for him. I wasn’t ready to retire. I shouldn’t have been punished because he was afraid of being found out. I wish I hadn’t told him I wanted to come out. I wish I’d just done it. I should have told everyone when I had a bigger stage to announce, ‘I’m
out! I’m proud!’ I never should have listened!”
“Never listen? That would have been suicide!”
“I died anyway! Who the fu—what difference would it have made? Whatever. It’s done. But it won’t continue. I’m gay—”
“Stop saying that!”
“I am, Papá! And I’m not sure anyone really cares, but if they’re curious, I’ll tell them.”
Tonio went ominously still. “What do you mean you’ll tell them?”
“I’m going to come out publicly. I’m doing an interview for the LA Times about the LGBT center.”
Tonio slammed his palm on the dining room table. The sound echoed in the small space like a gunshot. I started in my seat and gave Alex a furtive glance. His fists were clenched, and his jaw was locked in an angry line. I could tell he wasn’t going to back down.
“Enough! What would your mother say? God rest her soul.”
“She’d support me. You know she would have.”
Tonio sighed and shook his head ruefully. “I don’t know. Maybe. She coddled you. She made allowances for weakness when she shouldn’t have. She insisted I tolerate your private behavior. And I have. For many years I have tolerated but—”
Alex spun around and banged both hands down on the table so hard the sound reverberated in my body as it bounced off the walls. A picture of Christ with his open heart on display rattled behind Tonio’s head. The ensuing quiet was deafening. When Alex finally spoke, his tone was low, and his words were laced with contempt.
“I will not be tolerated! You tolerate a dog barking too loudly, a child’s crying, or an old lady pinching your cheek. You do not tolerate someone’s existence. Your son’s existence. My so-called private behavior is who I am. Don’t you get it? I have green eyes, Papá. I have dark hair. I’m gay. It’s who I am! I’m through hiding it. There’s no reason. It’s killing me to not be free to be myself. I’m a happy person. I have good friends. Nate is—”
Tonio spared me a derisive glance as he stood. “He is the same as Armand. It’s the same situation as before.”
“He’s nothing like Armand,” Alex insisted.
I sat between the two standing men like a mute man with wide eyes. I was unsure how to defend myself. I had no idea how I could be like a man I didn’t know.
“You’re wrong. He’s one of those men who can’t decide what he is! Men, women? He doesn’t care. He was married—”
“And divorced,” Alex countered just as I opened my mouth to speak.
“Right. What about the baby? Did he tell you about the baby? He’s the same.”
I was pretty sure Tonio was still talking, but hell, I felt like I’d been stabbed. Blood should have been dripping from some visible wound. I was dizzy with shock and more than a little nauseous. Baby. How would he know anything about—I shook my head carefully and refocused to find Alex staring blankly at me. Shit.
“Ahh… so you don’t know. I’ll let your friend tell you his own story, but you remember, Alejo, I am right. This is the same as before. If you must live this life, do it quietly. Why bring all this ugliness out for vultures to prey upon our family?”
Tonio shot a stern fatherly look toward his son and a withering one in my direction before making his way toward the kitchen. I studied Alex, wondering how I could possibly talk to him in this oppressive room with ugly words still dancing macabrely around us. His face was like granite. Hard and set in an impenetrable frown.
“Alex.”
“Fuck. I’ve got get out of here.” He licked his lips and looked down at his feet before darting out of the room toward the front door.
“Alex, wait!”
The door slammed shut. I raced to reopen it and chase after him. He stood with his left leg pulled behind his body stretching his hamstring. We were both still dressed in workout clothes from running around the soccer field with the kids earlier. If he decided to go for a jog, I’d be screwed. He was faster than me, and the tension coming off of him was palpable. Like being stuck in open water getting pummeled with wave after wave in turbulent seas. I swallowed hard, knowing I had to speak.
“Alex.”
He turned on his heel and jogged down the darkened residential street. There were lamplights to guide the way, but he would be swallowed by shadows if I didn’t go after him now. I didn’t know the area at all, though. I had to follow him.
I kept a steady pace behind him for a block and had to speed up slightly when he turned down the next street. The lights were dimmer now, and the air was damp, letting me know we were closer to the ocean. He didn’t stop until he reached a red light and was forced to wait at a busy intersection before finally crossing to the boardwalk.
“Alex. Please. Let me—”
His eyes blazed when he turned, stabbing his finger at me angrily. “Shut the fuck up, Nate! I’m not doing this here. Leave me alone. Go home.”
The light turned green, and I followed. I heard his low growl and again picked up my pace when he sped up. We ran in silence along the mostly deserted boardwalk. To our right businesses, restaurants, and homes lit the area like a lighthouse beacon. To the left was blackness. The only light reflected on the dark waters was the artificial kind. A fierce contrast separating us from mankind and Mother Nature.
We ran northward for at least twenty minutes before Alex paused for a moment, then took off toward the shore.
“Fuck,” I mumbled, jogging on the uneven sand to keep up with him.
I was out of breath and close to conceding defeat when he finally stopped close to the water’s edge. He gave me a startled look when he saw me, as though he was so lost in his thoughts he was surprised to find me there.
“Alex. Please,” I panted, leaning forward to brace my hands on my knees.
“Why are you here? Go home, Nate!”
“No. I have to….” What? How the hell could I possibly continue? I didn’t have the words.
“Fine. You finally wanna talk. Talk. And tell me while you’re at it, what the hell was he saying? I might have warned you. Tonio Reyes is psycho about protecting the family honor. There is no such thing as keeping a secret from him. Go ahead. Tell me what he already knows. Who the fuck knew you really were Clark Kent? Dressed like a businessman in public with a secret suit of lies in your closet at home.”
“That’s not true. Baby, I’m not goin—”
“Don’t fucking call me baby! Don’t fuck with me. Never call me some useless name to get my fucking attention! You think you have something to say to me, then say it now. No bullshit. Don’t leave anything out.”
“Okay. Just listen.”
“I’m listening. Talk.”
I bit my lip nervously and followed his gaze out to the dark ocean. My heart was still pounding, but now I couldn’t tell if it was from our run or from a sudden bout of anxiousness.
“I slept with Julie once. Only once. It was Jake’s thirtieth birthday party. It was at my house. The night was weird. A long evening of partying after a day of wine tasting. Whatever. She came on to me like she does every once in a while and—”
“Shit happens, eh? Look, I don’t care who you’ve slept with. It didn’t really become my business until you fucked me. But leaving out details like, oh I don’t know, getting her fucking pregnant? You’ve got to be kidding me!”
The wind blew curls into his eyes. He brushed his fingers through his hair in a frustrated motion, then stuffed his hands in the pockets of his pullover. It was cold on the beach. I wanted to wrap my arms around him, but his body language clearly said “do not touch.” It was more important to me that he listen.
“I was shocked too. I—we tried dating years before, but it never felt right.”
“You told me that story once before. You conveniently left out the part about a baby.”
“Alex, how the fuck do I explain something that never happened? It was a roller-coaster ride with an abrupt stop, a free fall and then… nothing. Look, she told me she was expecting. She was so happy. And I was so… freaked
out. I didn’t know what to do, how to act, or react. I was completely caught off guard. We weren’t a couple. We were friends. Everything changed overnight. I was—I didn’t know what to do.”
“You keep saying that. What did you do?”
“I tried to do the right thing. I went to every doctor appointment. I was as supportive as possible.” I shrugged and adjusted my glasses, then decided cleaning them gave me the perfect excuse to keep my hands busy and not look at him when the question came.
“What happened?”
“He came too soon. Week thirty. He hung on for three days, but he didn’t make it. She named him….” Alex waited for me to continue. I gulped and set my glasses back on my nose. “Scott. She said I talked about my friend Scott the night the baby was conceived. She said she figured he was someone important to me, but she didn’t know the whole story. She didn’t know he was my lover.
“We had a service for the baby. It was… heartwrenching. Just awful. My brother and his family came down from Tahoe. Julie’s family came from LA. Our friends were there. Julie’s mom hugged me before she left and assured me there would be other babies. We could try again, and we would be blessed. Fuck, it was hell. Julie agreed we had no future as anything but friends. She agreed. At first it was okay. A little awkward at times, but nothing alarming. Just these moments of extreme pain that she can’t seem to shake. The morning at the beach house when she met you was the worst I’d seen her since it happened.”
“Did you come to LA to get away from her?”
I studied him in the shadows, knowing I had to be completely honest or risk losing more than I was willing to. “Almost a year had passed, so no. It wasn’t trying to get away, but I needed a little space and—”
“I can’t do this now. It’s too much. My dad, you, and— I need space, Nate. I was wrong to think we could help each other. This isn’t about me helping you reacquaint yourself with your gay side or playing my boyfriend so I could gather the balls required to say what had to be said. I’m not sure what it is. But I need space.”
My voice sounded foreign. It quivered and was much lower than normal. I hated feeling so vulnerable. “This may have started as a game to you, but, Alex we’re more than—”