Patrick smiled, then paused and looked down at Peter, who was passed out soundly on the couch between them. “He’s out like a light.”
The coffee table in front of them still had their empty pizza boxes strewn across it. “Here, let me clean these up.”
“Can I confess something?” Patrick asked.
Andrew felt his heart in his throat. This couldn’t be what he hoped. “Of course.”
“I’m kind of over this show for one night, I think. What say we take these next two beers out to the yard again?”
(Of course)
“Sure. Sounds good.”
“Think you can get the fire started? I’ll carry this little guy up to bed.”
Andrew seriously doubted he could, but he was suddenly fourteen again and scared as hell to look anything less than manly in front of his schoolmates. “I can try.” He hadn’t thought he had any of those insecurities left. Funny how Patrick would bring them out, when he was pretty non-threatening. Maybe it was more about simply wanting to impress him.
He went out to the yard. The stars were out already. Against the fence was a small structure, sheltering wood from the elements, not that they’d had any rain lately. He grabbed a few big pieces and tossed them into the fire pit. There was probably a trick to this, he thought. Wasn’t there something about making a pyramid or...
He shoved some paper in between them and set it alight. The paper burned up but the wood didn’t catch. He was going to look like some kind of incompetent homosexual. He moved the logs around, crumpled some more paper, and tried again. This time, he saw the flame creep along the side of one log. The way that vein had crept down Patrick’s arm. The flame hit the end of the long and lingered there.
Success.
He felt a hand on his shoulder. “Not bad.” He jumped, with a small squeal. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Patrick chuckled. “Here. A beer.”
Andrew took it, silently berating himself for undoing whatever macho points he’d earned lighting a fire with his unmanly scream.
“Thanks.”
“It’s a beautiful night.”
They sat down and stretched their legs out again. “How’s the ankle?”
“Oh, it’s good. Beer helps.” He reached across with his bottle to clink tops. “You didn’t have to stay, you know. What would you be doing normally?”
“I’d have probably dragged up and hit the clubs. I wasn’t booked to perform tonight, but it’s easier to score free drinks.”
“Do you usually go out like that then? As Ann, I mean?”
“I guess? She’s more of a bar star than I am.”
“You’re the same person though.”
“Kinda. Her personality is very different than mine.”
“I like this one,” Patrick said, making brief eye contact and then leaning his head back. “So many stars.”
“What about you? If you didn’t have Peter tonight. Would you be out at the bars, cruising for chicks to bang?” He deepened his voice on the last bit in his best impression of a typical heterosexual male, and he appreciated that Patrick laughed and got it.
“Honestly, no. Since Christy and I divorced, I just haven’t felt like I’ve still got game. Some of those moms at your story time, I think they’re flirting, but I can’t even tell for sure.”
“Oh, they are,” Andrew said. “Trust me.”
Patrick smiled. “Probably. I guess, it’s just not a priority for me. It’s harder too, because of Peter.”
“I guess. Need to find someone who wants kids.”
“And who’s good with them. Peter’s got two parents who love him though. I don’t feel the need to rush out just to find him a mom.”
“Christy’s great with him.”
“She is. She really is. Last week, you know, I was worried a bit. Seeing the changes in him since I’d been gone. I couldn’t help but think, if I’d been around, if I hadn’t been deployed, he wouldn’t be like this.”
“Kids are who they are. I would have still turned out this fabulous even if I’d had a father around all the time.” He snapped his fingers. Patrick smiled and nodded. “Doesn’t have to just be about Peter though,” he then said. “You could be out finding a girlfriend just for you.”
“I could,” Patrick said. “But there’s no rush.”
“I’ve been single for so long, it feels like I’m ready to climb the walls.”
“I understand that. Luckily, we know how to fix that ourselves,” he said, miming jerking off.
Andrew felt his face flush. “True.” Was he really sitting around with a straight guy talking about masturbating? Was this his life now? “It’d be nice to have someone to come home too though.”
“How long has it been?”
“Since I’ve had someone to come home to? Never.”
“What? Really?”
“I’ve dated people, a couple even seriously, but never to the point of moving in together.”
“When was your last, I don’t know the word, partner?”
Andrew smiled. “That’s lame. Boyfriend works just fine. And years.”
“What happened?”
“Ann, I guess. At first, it was fun for him, dating a drag queen, but eventually, it got to be too much. He didn’t like sharing the spotlight.”
“Why didn’t you just stop then?”
“Stop what? Drag? For a guy? Never.”
“But if that’s what he wanted...”
“Would you quit the army for a woman? If that’s what she wanted?”
“No, but that’s different.”
“Because it’s straighter?”
“Hey. That’s not what I meant. It makes a difference. It helps keep the world safe.”
“Or at least the oil, right?”
“Hey. Not fair.”
“What I do might not change the world, but it certainly makes a difference to a lot of people. Do you have any idea how much charity work drag queens do? How many tens of thousands of dollars we raise every year? Hell, there wouldn’t even be a gay rights movement if it hadn’t been for a bunch of drag queens saying enough was enough.”
“Okay, okay. My bad. What you do is super important for your community.”
“Not just that, Patrick. What about kids like Peter? We break down gender roles so they can be who they are. You basically defend the patriarchy we are trying to smash.”
“I’m wearing silver nail polish,” he said, waving his hand. “That’s no patriarchy.”
“Well, it’s a prettier one anyway.” He took a sip of his beer. “Besides, it’s important for people to laugh too. To be entertained. We provide that. I provide that.”
Patrick drank his beer and looked like he was mulling that over. “True. And I’m glad I met you.”
“I’m glad I met you too,” Andrew said. “Don’t let it go to your head though.”
Patrick flashed a smile. “Seriously. You’re good people.”
“You’re drunk.”
“Maybe a little.” He shifted in his chair. His hand fell off the armrest and Andrew felt Patrick’s knuckles brush against his skin. He shifted in his chair to relieve the sudden tightening in his pants, bringing his arm up to have another sip.
It was meaningless, he told himself. It was casual and accidental and completely meaningless to the straight guy next to him. It wasn’t filled with the same fire and intensity and tension that it was to Andrew. Patrick just wasn’t wired that way. Andrew let his arm fall back down between the chairs, his knuckles sliding down Patrick’s arm.
Neither pulled away. They just sat there, staring out into the night sky, their arms against each other. Every inch of Andrew’s body was covered in goosebumps. Did Patrick have any idea what he was doing to him? How would he react if he knew Andrew had never been this hard?
(He’d kick the shit out of you)
(Just like before)
(Remember Karl)
Karl was a boner-killer if there ever was one.
Patrick suddenl
y lurched to his feet. “Another beer?”
Andrew knew he should go, but couldn’t bring himself to leave. “Sure.”
PATRICK
He used the facilities and checked in on Peter, who was still sound asleep, then went to grab another two beer from the fridge. There, he paused. Beer was good, but whiskey was better. He opened the freezer and pulled out the bottle he’d been saving for a special occasion.
That special occasion was now just some random summer Saturday.
He stepped back out into the year. Andrew was hunched over the fire, a stick in head, sending small towers of sparks into the sky. “Don’t set the yard on fire,” he said, closing the patio door behind him.
Andrew jumped again. “Stop startling me!”
“Stop being so jumpy. Here, have some of this.” Patrick twisted the cap off and passed the bottle to Andrew.
“The hard stuff, hey?”
Patrick shrugged. “Why not? It’s a gorgeous night out.”
Andrew took the bottle and tipped it back. Well, somewhat of a tip back anyway. Barely enough to wet his lips really. Patrick took the bottle and said, “Cheers”. It burned, but in a good way. He exhaled.
“Delicious, hey?”
“I’m more of a gin girl, myself.”
“Why do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Refer to yourself as a girl, when you’re not.”
Andrew shrugged. “We just do.”
“All drag queens?”
“All gay men really. Well, maybe not all, but a lot.” Andrew took the bottle back. “Maybe it’s because so many straight guys put us down for being feminine. It’s our way of owning that. Things can’t hurt if they’re your own.” He set the bottle to his lips and tilted his head back.
“Atta girl, then,” Patrick said.
Andrew sat forward, sputtering, spitting it back up. Patrick laughed. “Here, you’ve got it all over yourself.” Without thinking, he reached across and wiped the whiskey off Andrew’s lips and chin.
Andrew pulled away. “Don’t.”
Patrick flinched. “What? I was just...”
“I know what you were doing, and just don’t.”
He ran back over the last twenty seconds in his mind. He knew Andrew was attracted to him, but was it such a strong attraction that Patrick couldn’t even innocently touch him? Did it bother Andrew that much that Patrick was straight? Did it bother Patrick that Andrew was that attracted? “I was just wiping it off,” he said.
“I just don’t think mixed signals are a good idea here.”
“Mixed how?”
“Look, Patrick. You have to know you’re a very attractive man. And you have to know that I am going to respond to that. Just like if you were hanging out with some gorgeous woman and she reached out and touched you like that.”
“That’s fair. I’m sorry.”
“Besides, I wouldn’t have spilled any if you hadn’t made me laugh. No fair.”
They both laughed. “Do over?” Patrick took another swig. He’d already had a buzz going, but now that whiskey warmth was filling him.
“I’m good for now.”
“Tell me something.”
“What do you wanna know?”
“I dunno. Have you ever been with a girl?”
“No. I’m gold star. The last time I saw a vagina, I was coming out of one.”
Patrick laughed. “You’ve said that before.”
Andrew smiled. “I can neither confirm nor deny that. What about you?”
“Have I been with a girl? You’ve met Peter, right?”
“No. Have you ever been with a guy?”
“I’m straight.”
“I’m gay, and you still asked me.”
“Huh. Fair.” He took another pull on the bottle. “No. I haven’t.”
“Ever came close?”
“No. Never.”
“Ever thought about it?”
“No. No more than you’ve thought about having sex with a woman.”
“So, you have thought about it then?”
“What? No. You’ve thought about sex with a woman?”
“Thought about it, sure. Especially before, when I was in the closet. That my life would be so much easier if I could just be straight.”
“But it’s not a choice.”
“No. We are what we are. “
Patrick stared into the fire. Flames licked the wood and danced around. Andrew was looking up at the sky. The lips weren’t wet with whiskey anymore, but Patrick still wanted to reach out and touch them. He hadn’t ever had a thought like that before. Never once. It had to be the drag. He was drunk enough that he was seeing Ann where it was only Andrew.
“You’re right,” he said. “We are what we are, and what I am is drunk. I should probably...” He trailed off. He wanted to go to bed, but he also didn’t want the night to end.
“Yes. I should probably too.” Andrew stumbled to his feet. “Thanks for a fun day.”
Patrick stood up. “No problem, man. Anytime.”
Andrew pulled out his phone. “Let me get a car.”
“Oh wait. Here, give me that.” He pulled Andrew’s phone away. “I’m giving you my number. Text me yours. We can hang out again. If that’s cool.”
“Sure. Sure. And I’ll see you next Saturday?”
Patrick handed the phone back. “Yah. Absolutely.”
Did they shake hands? Did they hug? It seemed like there should be something, some kind of send off. “A car is just a minute away,” Andrew said. “I’ll wait out front.”
“Talk soon then,” Patrick said, and softly punched Andrew’s shoulder.
The look on Andrew’s face was half confused, half disappointed, and half WTF. Patrick watched him leave the back yard. That was three halves, he realized, as he shook his head. A shoulder punch? That wasn’t good.
“You’re an idiot,” he said aloud, sitting back down.
Maybe some more whiskey was in order after all, he thought, as the flames continued to dance.
§
He was drinking too much, and he knew it, but nothing drove home that point like the next morning when the sound of his son’s voice – one of the most beautiful sounds on earth – made him physically flinch. He didn’t know when he’d crawled to bed. He did remember finishing off the bottle though.
What was there to do with this downtime? He had three months off before he was needed back on base. He couldn’t spend it all at the gym. Christy had Peter during the week. He had a lot of time to kill.
Now though, that drinking had cut into Peter time. When Patrick woke up to Peter knocking at the door Sunday morning, he was in pain. “Let me get some water,” he mumbled.
“Want to watch more season eight?”
It was far too early and he was far too hung-over for drag queens, but it was Peter. “Sure. Go get it started. I just want a quick shower.”
He looked at himself in the mirror. Sure, his body was in great shape, but his face was looking a little haggard: his eyes were puffy and dark, his lips were chapped and dry. Certainly not the moist plump lips Andrew had had last night.
He had to stop thinking of Andrew like that. Maybe Ann was attractive but she was a man. And Patrick was not attracted to men. Sure, Andrew was attractive enough, but not to Patrick. He was missing two important things up top, and had one too many things down below.
Of course Peter was confused. Patrick was thirty-one and this world was apparently confusing for him. Peter was happy though, and that’s what mattered.
The shower helped, physically and mentally. When he was towelling off, he felt almost human again.
“Dad!”
“Almost done, champ.”
“Your phone is ringing.”
“Can you get it?”
“Sure.”
Probably Christy, he thought. What would she say if she thought for a second that he was even the slightest bit attracted to a drag queen? He would never hear the end of it. Her picking on
him was one part of their marriage that hadn’t ended with the divorce.
He threw on a tank and some sweats and bounded downstairs. Peter was talking on the phone but passed it over. “Hello beautiful,” he said.
“Well, hello beautiful yourself,” a man’s voice said. Patrick looked at the screen. Andrew. Of course.
“Sorry, I assumed it was Christy. Complimenting her makes whatever is coming next easier.”
“I see,” he said, chuckling.
“What’s up? Did you forget something? It’s super early to be calling.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. No, I didn’t forget anything. I actually wanted to see what you boys were up to today.”
“Peter was just about to show me more drag race.”
“That sounds fun, but the sun is already out, and I found some passes for TRR.”
“Really? You?”
“I’m full of surprises.”
“Let me check. Peter, Andrew wants to know if you want to go check out the waterslides instead today.”
“He already asked me.”
“And what did you say?”
“I said yes, sure, but only after this episode. It’s a good one.”
“You heard that?” he asked Andrew.
“Yes. Say at eleven?”
“Sounds good. We’ll meet you there?”
“Works for me. See you then.”
“It’s a date,” he said, as he hung up. “Fuck,” he said aloud.
“Bad word,” Peter said, not looking away from the television.
Bad words were the least of his problems if he couldn’t control his language. It wasn’t a date, and it never could be, no matter how much Andrew might be hoping otherwise. He’d have to find time today to make sure, in the sober light of day, that Andrew knew he was straight.
§
Tulgey River Rapids was a massive indoor and outdoor waterpark. “Remember last time we were here?” Patrick asked Peter as they pulled into the parking lot, which was already packed. “It was just before I left?”
“I remember. It was fun.”
“Today is going to be even more fun, right, champ?”
“Uh huh.”
“I’m glad you decided to come! Too nice a day to be hanging out inside, right? We can watch TV later.”
“It’s Sunday though. I go to Mom’s later.”
A Fluid State Page 6