“Welcome,my friends,” Peyton said, bowing in the doorway of his Topanga Canyon mansion. “Welcome to the commencement party of the tenth season of Pterippus.”
“Thanks.” Blue hugged Peyton and continued through the three-story foyer to the left wing.
“Hi, stud,” Peyton greeted Heydn.
“Great to see you, Peyn,” Heydn said, embracing Peyton warmly. “How’s show biz?”
“Did you seeOrders of March ?”
“Yeah. Blue loved it. He took a bunch of people to see it when it played Burlington.”
“What did you think?” Peyton asked, as he escorted Heydn to the back of the house.
“I liked it.”
Peyton held open the door to the long enclosed back porch and the smell of chlorine teased Heydn’s nostrils. “What did you like about it?” he said, over the sounds of splashing, laughter, and bright music.
“Well, the fantasy element appealed to me, but…” Heydn paused as he waved to Rollins Morehouse. “But honestly, I thought the message was a little heavy-handed.”
“It probably was for you, but I think some people need things spelled out, and I wouldn’t want to shortchange them.”
“Since when, you big snob?”
“Whoa, watch it,” Peyton said as Betsy and Rhodes’ two children charged past on their way to the pool.
“Damn,” Heydn said. “Azure and Orlando are growing fast!”
“Well, they are eight and nine this year.”
“Kinda makes you want a rug rat, doesn’t it?”
“Ew.” Peyton grimaced. “Absolutely not. These two are adorable, naturally, but a few hours with them are all I can manage.” Heydn laughed. “I remember the year Betsy asked if you wouldn’t mind babysitting and you said of course you wouldn’t if she didn’t mind coming home to find all of you sedated. I nearly pissed my pants. Remember?”
“Well, I do have a reputation to maintain as a master of quips and dampener of pants. What would you like to drink?”
Heydn spotted Blue sitting on the side of the pool with his feet in the water talking to Betsy Brandeis-Vaughn. “Let’s start with beer. What’s your current boutique brew of choice?”
Peyton lifted the lid on the large cooler and the light came on, sparkling on an array of bottled beers. “Take your pick,” he said. “Rolly’s good about reminding me that people like a choice.”
“So… are you two… you know?”
“Are we going steady?” Peyton rolled his eyes. “What grade are you in? But the answer is yes, as you already knew, because I e-mailed Blue about it months ago.”
“Just makin’ small talk, dude.”
“Don’t dude me. I have directed three films and starred in countless others as an openly gay man and I’m only twenty-seven years old.”
“Countless others?” “I did a lot of movies in a short period of time. Oh, why am I bothering?” Peyton opened Heydn’s beer for him. “Here. How’s that taste? Pretty crisp, right? Yeah it is. Anyway, I’m getting out of the industry soon. Rolly’s convinced me that I can make more progress in politics.”
“For what it’s worth, I’d vote for you.”
“I’ll count on that…if we ever live in the same state.”
“I meant for President.”
“Oh…. Okay, that’s cool.” “What’s cool?” Blue said, leaning against Heydn’s back. “Hey, cocktails! I want one.”
“The usual?” Peyton asked, not even waiting for Blue’s nod before he got out the cranberry juice.
“Peyton’s going into politics,” Heydn said.
Blue thought about that for a minute. “It could work,” he said at last.
Peyton handed Blue his Cosmopolitan. “Wow, curb your enthusiasm, babe,” he said.
“I’m just feeling sorry for the movie industry,” Blue said, taking a sip of his drink. “Yummy.”
“I’m sure Hollywood will manage without me, and you know I’ve always had an interest in civil rights.”
“An interest,” Blue exchanged a look with Heydn. “That’s what he calls it?”
“It’s time,” Peyton said. “I’ve been basically drifting for the seven years since I broke up with Alan and it’s time I got hold of the reins again.”
“You call your brilliant film career drifting?” Blue said. “More or less. The movies were something I allowed to happen, if that makes sense to you. I’m not saying I didn’t work hard, but in a way, making movies was easy for me. Fighting for the rights of minorities will be more of a challenge, I think.”
“And that’s what you want?” Heydn said. “Yeah. I’m not sure I’m equal to it, but I’m going to give it a shot. Maybe my relationship with Alan didn’t last, but his ideas sure stuck with me. You had an influence, too. Do you remember telling me that all I really needed to do was be true to myself?”
“I actually spouted somethin’ that self-righteous?”
“Yes, you did, and I took it to heart. Eventually.”
“Let us know what we can do to help with the campaign when the time comes,” Blue said.
“I will; believe me. Rolly’s going to be my campaign manager. After four years with the senior statesman from Massachusetts, he feels ready.”
“I’m excited for you,” Blue said. “And now I’m going to take my drink and go for a swim.”
“He still makes me want to put my arms around him and shield him from the world,” Peyton said when Blue was out of earshot. “Even though he doesn’t need a protector.”
“I feel the same way. It annoys him sometimes, but mostly it amuses him.” Peyton smiled, but it faded. “Listen, I got some bad news while you were in the air. I wanted to tell you first so you could tell Blue if you want to. Astor Aldrich was found dead in the lake behind his parents’ house. Apparently, he took a Windsurfer out and drowned.”
“Jesus,” Heydn said under his breath.
“Yeah. He was twenty-nine. Never even saw thirty, poor miserable bastard. I doubt his butterfly wife will miss him, but I feel sorry for his daughter.”
Heydn nodded. “These things are always hardest on the innocent.”
“Astor named her Brooke, you know. I wonder what his mom thought of that?”
“I’d say Astor had his own ways of venting his resentment at the life he chose. This is sure gonna throw some gloom over Blue’s weekend.”
“I can tell him, if you want.”
Heydn shook his head. “I’ll do it. The sooner the better.” He lifted his beer bottle as he moved away. “To Astor,” he said.
“Goodnight, sweet prince,” Peyton said and took a drink. Blue looked puzzled by Heydn’s request, but he rose and followed the other man outside. Heydn leaned on the rail of the deck that jutted out over the canyon and took another long drink of his beer. “I have to tell you some sad news,” he said.
“What?”
Heydn took a deep breath. “Astor Aldrich is dead. He drowned sometime yesterday.”
“He…Astor drowned?”
“Apparently. He was found in the lake at his folks’ place.”
“That’s…hard to believe. He’s such a good swimmer. He loves that lake. He knows it like…”
“You told me,” Heydn interrupted. “I’m really sorry, Cookie.” He put his arms around Blue.
Blue didn’t move for a few seconds, and then he returned the hug. “It’s just so weird. I can’t quite believe it yet.”
“What was it you said about the last time you saw him?” “He looked haunted. That was almost three years ago at the Acton alumni barbecue that you refused to attend with me. I walked in on him and Allerton King in the locker room toilet. Drunk as hell and groping each other in one of the stalls. It made me so sad.”
“I know.” Heydn held Blue close and held his peace about the long-ago incident with Allerton King on the beach. It wouldn’t make Blue feel any better and was of little consequence after all. “Poor guy.”
“I feel so sorry for his little girl.”
“I know
.” Heydn kissed Blue’s forehead. “She’ll miss her daddy.” “When Cece was pregnant, Astor asked me to be godfather. I told him it would be better if he chose someone in his family.”
“Nothin’ wrong with that. You were as good a friend to him as he let you be. It’s not your fault he couldn’t let go of his obsession with you.”
“I think I reminded him of someone he lost a long time ago when he was a kid. So many sad things happened to him.”
“That’s somethin’ you had in common.” Heydn raised Blue’s chin on his palm. “You managed to rise above the shit that life threw at you.”
“I could’ve given him more of my time.”
“Blue, you didn’t cause Astor’s death. You told me yourself that he was self-destructing. I honestly think you’re a saint for having lunch with him now and then.”
“Or was I torturing him?”
“No. The fact that you’d even ask convinces me you meant him nothin’ but good. He made a choice, Blue. You couldn’t make it for him.”
Blue made a frustrated noise. “I don’t believe people go to hell after they die,” he said. “There’s enough hell right here on Earth.”
“You got that right, Cookie…and you got me.”
Blue tightened his arms around Heydn. “Thank you,” he whispered.
“I love you,” Heydn replied, as though answering a question.
“I love you, too.”
“Hey, I’ve been savin’ some good news. Maybe now is the right time to tell you.”
“It couldn’t hurt.”
“Okay. I didn’t tell you I’d been keepin’ tabs on some of our old classmates because I know you live in the present and, for a Goth, you’re not very big on vengeance.”
“I’m not a Goth. Who have you been following?”
“Logan Newcombe, Sloan Spalding, and Copeland Graham.”
“I should’ve guessed. Do I want to hear this?” “I think so, but I’ll save the best for last. Logan underwent extensive counseling after the judge found him unfit to stand trial. For once, it appears his dad’s money didn’t do him any good. Judge Persons turned out to be honest and he took a special interest in Logan’s case. It didn’t change Logan, except to make him meaner, but it kept him off the streets for a couple of years. He never went to college and he didn’t go to work for his dad either. He appears to have been an embarrassment and was given a title at some company owned by a friend of his dad’s. He lost that job and every other job his family got him. He padded expense accounts. He had a poor attendance record. He embezzled, though he has never been formally charged. He’s been married three times in eight years, no children. His good buddy Allerton King never lifted a finger to help him out. In the last report I got, wife number three left him and the real estate company he started had filed for bankruptcy. He drinks too much and he takes long drives at night, getting into shouting matches with other drivers.”
Blue shivered. “That’s enough about him.” “Okay. Sloan Spalding turned out exactly like you’d expect. He’s a corporate lawyer in his dad’s firm and belongs to the country club, married a deb, two kids and a pedigreed dog in a McMansion with a staff of underpaid illegals. Movin’ right along, we have Copeland Graham, dull of wit with the character of a sheep, but…his story has a happier ending. The community service that he and Sloan were sentenced to had more of an effect on Cope than it did on Skip. Copeland went ahead and got a law degree, too, but it seems he didn’t quite have what it took in the corporate world. So guess what he did? He became a civil rights attorney and he specializes in cases where gay men have been victimized.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
“That actually makes me feel better.”
“Good. Do you want to go in and have lunch with everyone, or would you like to stay out here for a while?” “Let’s go in. We haven’t even said hello to everyone yet.” Blue paused at the sliding glass door. “Heydn, I understand why you wanted to know what happened to Logan Newcombe, but I don’t like you keeping secrets from me. Not even the ones you think will hurt me.”
“I knew you’d be mad at me if you knew. I also knew I shouldn’t be doing it. Won’t happen again.”
“Thanks.”
“Hey.” Heydn put a hand on Blue’s shoulder and craned his neck to kiss Blue’s cheek. “It’ll be all right,” he said. Blue smiled, as Heydn had hoped, and slid open the door. They went in and sat at Peyton’s table, made from the door of a deconsecrated church. The heavily carved and inlaid slab of wood was covered with brightly glazed dishes that resembled various fruits and vegetables and the centerpiece was a towering palm tree sculpture made of leaf rakes and shredded rubber. Peyton sat at the head and as soon as Blue and Heydn were seated, he proposed a toast. The tribute included everyone present as well as absent friends in a roll call of some of the best in their fields, recounting triumphs and the occasional disaster in a capsule history of the floating artists’ colony that had become justly famous for the output of its members.
The odd term pterippus had become a household word and the number of applicants grew each year until a full-time staff had to be hired to help Betsy handle the requests. The Pterippi, or Trippies, as they were dubbed by less-serious reporters, were responsible for some of the most innovative examples of film, poetry, music, sculpture, and almost every other art in the past decade. As Peyton reminded the core group in attendance, they had a lot to be proud of.
Dinner began with carrot ginger gazpacho that set the tone for the dishes that followed: arugula, dried cherry and walnut salad with poppy seed dressing, lacquered salmon and crab pate?, grilled eggplant and red pepper, rosemary rib roast, sweet potato sticks with cinnamon butter, honey-cheese pie with preserved strawberries, chocolate gateau with dark chocolate ganache, sliced pears and bleu cheese, each served with a wine chosen from Peyton’s cellar. The mood was convivial as old friends ate, drank, and discussed the doings of their lives while they’d been apart. Congratulations, commiserations, and affectionate teasing passed back and forth with a lot of laughter and a few tears. Amid groans and protests of fullness, Peyton announced that coffee and liqueurs would be served in his small but complete theater. In no great hurry, the guests broke into groups, continuing conversations begun at the table.
Blue listened to Sig Herzog talk about his latest project, a video game based on Wagner’s Ring Cycle. Sig wanted Blue’s opinion on his idea for a computer-generated dragon and was happy to describe it at length. Blue gave Sig his ear, but his eyes strayed often to Heydn on the floor playing with Azure, Orlando, Annabelle, and Sarah. It was clear that he had the little ladies charmed, and nine-year-old Orlando had adopted Heydn’s habit of winking broadly. The children of other members were attracted to the group and joined the game of adding a rhyme to the silly song they were making up. Sig finally noticed Blue’s preoccupation and bluntly pointed it out. Blue apologized and took Sig’s elbow, walking him over to Betsy and Rhodes. Briefly explaining Sig’s dragon to Academy Award-winning set designer Betsy, Blue excused himself and headed toward the kitchen.
Peyton started the introduction to his short film tribute to Pterippus and it was a little while before Heydn missed Blue. When he didn’t see him in the audience, he got up and left. A short search of the first floor and inquiries made of everyone he ran into yielded no clues. Heydn looked out on the deck and then went back inside to look upstairs. After checking the bedrooms and bathrooms, he opened the secret door in Peyton’s walk-in closet. A set of rungs led upward and Heydn climbed to the crows’ nest, seeing Blue’s feet before he emerged through the floor of the tiny widow’s walk. Blue smiled over his shoulder and went back to gazing out over the spectacular view. The breeze was raw up here and carried the tang of salt from the ocean. Maybe that’s why Blue’s eyes were watering.
“You wanna be alone?”
“Never.” Blue’s voice sounded strained.
Heydn put an arm around his lover’s shoulders. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“I was watching you with the kids.”
“They’re great, aren’t they?”
“Yeah. So much energy in those little bodies. It’s a wonder they don’t self-combust.”
“That’s quite a mental image.”
Blue rested his cheek on Heydn’s shoulder and slipped an arm around his trim waist. “You know what I mean.” He paused. “Do you want children?”
“I thought we decided a while back that neither one of us was dad material and that the obstacles were many and forbidding.”
“That was a while back. What do you want now?”
“Do I have to decide right now?” “Of course not. I just want a gut reaction.”
“Okay then. I’d like a kid someday; just not today. Maybe after our friends’ kids grow up.”
“Good enough. I know that adopting, or hiring a surrogate, won’t be easy, but I don’t want you to miss out on being a father, if that’s what you want.”
“It’s about whatwe want, not what I want.”
“I know you mean that, but I don’t want us to end up in some absurd version ofGift of the Magi where we each make sacrifices and inadvertently deprive each other of what we want most.”
“I have what I want most.” Heydn squeezed Blue. “The rest is gravy.”
Blue smiled. “I like to think of it as icing.”
“That’s because you’re my Sugar Cookie.”
Blue turned so that he and Heydn were face to face. Demurely, he lowered his eyes, long lashes brushing his cheekbones. “You find me sweet, my lord?” “Aye,” Heydn growled. “And I shall taste your sweetness ere long.” Sliding an arm down to the small of Blue’s back, Heydn dipped him and swooped on his mouth. Blue braced his right foot against the rail on the opposite side of the tiny turret and responded eagerly to the passionate kiss. Heydn pressed his lover against the rail behind Blue’s back and worked a hand between their bodies.
True Blue Page 23