Blueberry Pancakes: The Novel

by Anton Lee Richards

  “I love staying with you guys,” he said. “I don’t have to worry about waking the baby up.”

  Her voice got deeper. “You woke me up.”

  “Sorry, dude,” said Silas.

  “Don’t call me a dude, dude.”

  “Okay, dudette,” he said, laughing.

  “I’m going back to bed,” I said. “We’ve got work tomorrow.” Marlene trudged back to her bedroom.

  “Dude, let’s do this tomorrow night,” Silas called out to us.

  That Saturday night, Marlene had been in the bathroom for twenty minutes when I called out to her. She didn’t answer, and I called out three more times, growing more irritated each time.

  “I’m putting on my face now,” said Marlene through the bathroom door. “It might be a few hours.”

  “Are you reconstructing your face from scratch?” I asked. Sitting on the living room couch, I flipped through the channels with the TV on mute, growing impatient with her. Little did I know she was putting green and pink streaks in her hair.

  “My boys expect a lot from me,” she said. “Every speck of glitter must be set in the right spot.”

  Marlene was about to appear at The Noise after a feature in The Windy City Times brought her publicity and new fans. They would play remixes of a few of her songs, and she would sign T-shirts. Jesse and I went along for support and amusement.

  “Christopher texted me out of nowhere,” I called out to her. “He read the article and said he was planning on being there. I’m worried he’ll pull some catty shit because he’s still pissed at me for abandoning him at that party.” I would be if someone left me at a party, but he was acting pretty shitty himself that night. Although it’s only been a couple of months, it seems like it was lifetimes ago.

  “As long as Patrick isn’t there, I don’t give a fuck,” Marlene teased. “You know,” she paused and let out a deep sigh. “Have you talked with Jesse any more about the Kenny incident? Maybe you should talk to someone. Like a professional.” She paused again. “It doesn’t mean you’re crazy. It’s normal after something like that.”

  Why would she bring that up? I don’t want to talk about Kenny ever again. I’d rather talk about Christopher. Or Patrick. That wasn’t true. As much as I wanted Jesse, I didn’t need him. Post-Kenny Duncan could handle anything. Maybe.

  I put the remote control down. “I can handle anything as long as I have Jesse.”

  Marlene stepped out of the bathroom and jammed her finger down her throat to fake puke. The buzzer rang, and it was Jesse. I headed to the club with Jesse while Marlene prepared for her grand entrance.

  Jesse and I walked shoulder-to-shoulder through Andersonville, grateful to live in a neighborhood where I could be myself.

  “It’s too warm to justify a cab but cold enough to make the walk suck,” I said. I hailed a taxi. “How are your papers going? I know they’ve stressed you out lately.”

  “All done. Tonight’s a night for celebrating, believe me. Only two more months and my first year of seminary is over. Then a summer internship. I should’ve done this earlier.”

  “Regrets are worthless.”

  “The years of struggle have been worth it. And you know what? So have your years of struggling as a songwriter,” Jesse said.

  We reached the front entrance of The Noise and got out of the cab. I handed the driver $10 and thanked him. There was nobody in front of the club, and I wondered how many crowded it would be.

  We entered The Noise, and it was pretty empty. Regardless, gay diva music thumped hard which gave the club a sense of energy. We sat at the bar and waved to the bartender. Jesse ordered me a vodka Red Bull and a beer for himself. Several large-screen TVs played a music video that didn’t match the music playing from the speakers.

  The crowd poured in one at a time. After ten minutes, Christopher walked in. He gave me a smirk and walked past. Jesse didn’t notice. I brought my attention back to him and we enjoyed the atmosphere. Without warning, a finger ran down my back. I turned around, and it was Christopher touching me as he slouched away. He said nothing, but his sly grin spoke volumes.

  “Looks like you’ve still got prospects,” Jesse joked. “I’m jealous.”

  “You damn well better be.” I gripped his hand.

  It relieved me when Christopher walked away. He had his little catty fun and wouldn’t bother me for the rest of the evening. That was how it was at The Noise. Everybody was sleeping with everyone else. Except for Jesse and me, of course.

  Marlene strolled through the front door like she was the Queen of Sheba being accompanied by trumpets. She dressed way too extravagantly for The Noise. Or the Grammys. The few people inside stopped what they were doing and gasped. She relished every moment. She was as flashy as a woman could be without being a gay male bottom. Her dress was green and pink to match her newly dyed hair. She wore one green shoe and one pink shoe. And how she kept that hat on her head, I’d never know.

  She kissed four people on the cheek in rapid succession, leaving lipstick marks on each of them. Then she approached Jesse and me for our official greetings. At least twenty people crowded around us. The drink she ordered had at least four different liquors and was a glowing pink liquid in a martini glass. A few people recognized her from her YouTube videos and were ecstatic to meet a semi-celebrity. Later that night, they would play those same videos on the TV screens throughout the club.

  “So, boys?” she asked, she held her hand up to the large variety of liquors on the shelf of the bar. “What do you want to drink?”

  “That dress is way too short,” I said. “I can see your… unspeakable.”

  “Duncan, how many drinks will it take to get you on the dance floor?” she asked. “I’m not here to hand out T-shirts.”

  “Please don’t make me.”

  “You’re not getting out of here till you give me one dance. And we’re requesting the good stuff. None of this shit.” She pointed at the ceiling speakers.

  She made a song request at the bar and returned wearing a smug expression. I wasn’t familiar with the song that played next but knew that The Factory would never have produced something this bad. She tried to grab my hand and take me to the dance floor, but I resisted.

  “Bartender, get this gentleman another drink,” she said. “And three double-shots of vanilla vodka. Put it on my tab.” She wasn’t aware that drinks were on the house for her since she was the guest for the evening. She strode to the dance floor where she was the only one dancing. Several people joined her a moment later, and for the rest of the night, the dance floor was packed.

  I didn’t think the bartender would take her seriously, but he did. When the shots came up Jesse, and I didn’t know what to do with them.

  “Without Red Bull? Tonight, you can either have sex with me or listen to me puke into the toilet,” I said.

  “Tough choice. We’ll both take a shot, and then you’ll take the extra one if Marlene doesn’t come back.”

  I swigged down the first vodka and slammed the glass on the bar top. I looked up and saw Christopher walking past me again. This time I was facing the dance floor rather than the bar, so I made direct eye contact with him. Jesse glared at me.

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ll put my arm around you real tight next time he walks by.”

  Christopher glided onto the dance floor, moving in time to the music. He slid in close to Marlene and butt bumped her. Then he whispered in her ear. She covered her mouth in mock shock and said something back. He laughed. Marlene never hated Christopher the way she hated Patrick. She even admired his flexibility.

  “She’ll tell him you’re with me and he’ll forget about it,” Jesse said.

  When the song ended, Marlene stayed on the dance floor. Christopher did a slow walk towards us with a big grin on his face.

  “Duncan, you didn’t tell me you were back with Jesse,” he said. “This sure must be awkward for you.”

  Jesse spun around. “You only had a few dates with him
, right?” he whispered in my ear.

  “You knew I dated him when we broke up,” I said. “That’s it.” I looked around for Marlene for backup.

  Jesse gave out an ugly laugh. “How intense was it?” he asked. “And why is he so flirtatious now?”

  Christopher was steepling his fingers. “This is so delicious.”

  “Shut up,” I snapped at him. “This is my boyfriend now.”

  “Now?” Jesse raised an eyebrow.

  “Ah-ha! Then you cheated on your boyfriend with me?” Christopher asked.

  “I’d never cheat on him,” I said. “I told you. We were broken up at the time.”

  “You should call me when you guys break up again,” Christopher said.

  “We’re not going to,” Jesse said.

  Christopher gazed at me. “You told me yourself that I was the best you’d ever had,” he said.

  Jesse removed his arm from around my side and stiffened. I could see beads of sweat on his forehead.

  “Shut up,” I said. “Jesse’s the best.”

  Christopher turned around and bent over. He rubbed his hands between his butt cheeks. He lifted his leg high to show how flexible he was. “That’s how Duncan likes it,” he said. “I hope you can give him the same.”

  “I can’t watch this,” Jesse muttered. He got up and walked toward the back of the bar near the bathrooms.

  “You asshole,” I shrieked at Christopher.

  “You know you want me,” he said.

  I followed Jesse through the back door to the outdoor patio. He stood unyielding with his hands stuffed in his back pockets. He wouldn’t look at me.

  “What is it?” I mumbled.

  Jesse covered his ears. “I don’t want to hear about your sexual conquests.”

  “I didn’t expect this jerk to say anything.”

  He waved his arm around the room. “How many others in this bar have you slept with?”

  “No one, of course,” I said. “I don’t know everybody in the bar.”

  “Is that what you like? Him?”

  “No, Jesse. I like you, and that’s all I’ve ever liked. I slept with him only when I couldn’t have you.”

  “It’s too hard hearing about you and other guys. I can’t handle it.” He continued to stare out from the patio, avoiding eye contact with me.

  “Then let’s stay together,” I said. “That way we won’t have to worry about it again.”

  “Go back into the bar and flirt with Christopher. Hook up with him now that you’re free.”

  “No! Not over this. Calm down first.”

  He turned and headed for the front door. I considered whether or not to follow him but chose not to. Tears streamed down my face. I’d lost Jesse too many times. This time it was about him and his overreaction rather than there being something wrong with me. That’s progress, I guess.

  I walked back inside and saw Marlene chatting with Christopher. I clenched my jaw and approached him.

  “Asshole. What did you do that for? It was pretty obvious I was with him.”

  “Yup. Your lovely lady friend here told me, but I would not let that stop you from getting what you really want. Where’s your little boyfriend now?”

  “He left.”

  “Is he mad?” Marlene asked.

  “He kind of broke up with me,” I said to Marlene, instantly regretting that Christopher was standing right there.

  “Again?” she gasped.

  “Broke up? Again?” Christopher roared. “This must be a real stable relationship to crumble over a few comments from little old me.” He licked his finger. “Now at least you can get what you want.”

  “Don’t ever talk to me again,” I said. I pulled Marlene by the elbow away from him.

  “What’s it this time?” Marlene asked.

  “He didn’t like hearing about other guys I’ve slept with,” I said. Now I was ready for a drink. I flagged down the bartender.

  “It’s not like you rubbed it in his face,” she said. “It’s not like you cheated on him.”

  “I’m scared of losing him again,” I said.

  “He’ll realize his mistake and come around.” She cleared her throat and hung her head low. “Again.”

  Christopher stepped in between us a moment later. “Hey, I’ll take care of your fears,” he said. His shirt was so tight you couldn’t even fit a feather between his shirt and his skin.

  Marlene put her finger in his face. “Hey, get the fuck away from us, okay? I may be a petite little bitch, but I can still kick your ass.”

  Christopher dropped his jaw in mock fear and walked away toward his friends by the front door.

  Marlene requested another song to cheer me up. The shot she ordered earlier was still sitting on the bar. I gulped it down and caught up with Marlene over at the dance floor. She was dancing, and I stood next to her and fake-danced – which involved moving my body to the music while keeping my feet firmly on the floor. That was as much as I danced, even when in a good mood.

  I survived until the end of the song before retreating to my stool. Christopher kept giving me looks, and I ignored him. My anger toward him evaporated, and I could tell he was picking up on that. He wasn’t the only jerk. Jesse needed to cool down.

  After a half hour of occasional glances, Christopher appeared behind me with his eyebrows raised. “Still mad?” he asked.

  “I’m fine, but I don’t want to talk to you now or ever again. Go away.”

  “I exposed your boyfriend for what he is. Jealous. Now that you’re not together, it wouldn’t be cheating if you went home with me tonight.” He stroked my thigh.

  It was tempting. It really was He was cute, but he pissed me off. Then again, Jesse pissed me off too. It was a dangerous combination.

  “Just stay away from me, and nobody will get hurt. No matter what happens next, I’ll never sleep with you again. Ever.”

  He turned and walked away, and I sat down. A moment later my phone vibrated with Jesse checking up on me.

  So are you going to sleep with him now that ur free?

  I’m not free.

  “U dnt have to put up with my outbursts anymore.

  I only want u and that’s all I can say. im not groveling anymore.

  It was the best I could do with a bad situation. I hadn’t given in to Jesse, but I had left the door open for him.

  I slid my phone into my pocket and felt Christopher’s finger rerun down my back. “Stop touching me,” I yelled. I was loud enough that the whole front of the bar stopped to gawk.

  “That’s not what you said last time,” he said. He shook his head and walked away.

  It felt good to watch him walk away. Neither Christopher nor Jesse would walk all over me again. Nor would Patrick or Kenny for that matter.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  SPRINGFIELD PROJECT

  The Springfield project hummed along well for several months. I kept it ahead of schedule, with only a few bumps along the way. Beth never once expressed gratitude for the extra hours I put in, but she complained less, and that was thanks enough for me. By then, Greg was the only person in the Chicago office I had to answer to, and he did his best to stay as far away from the project as possible. That was a positive sign. It meant I was doing a decent enough job and that he could trust me to see it through to completion.

  Then the maelstrom started. Beth spent an entire week sending email after email. I made a few errors, and so did the programmer in Springfield. The implementation was disastrous. She hadn’t followed the manual I created, and the training hadn’t gone well. Her emails were overwhelming. I told her to focus on the most important software fixes rather than small irritating details.

  Then, at about 3 pm on Thursday of that week, the emails stopped. I sent Beth a few revisions based on her complaints, but she didn’t reply. It relieved me. Without her nagging, I could get some work done. Perhaps she realized it would help her agenda to let me do my job. The next morning, Greg walked into my cubicle. Instead o
f looking at me, he stared at the pictures of cats doing yoga on my cubicle wall.

  “Duncan, there’s an issue. We need to talk about the Springfield project.” He coughed. “In Ed’s office.” He paused. “Now.”

  I thought about how much trouble Beth would be in as I walked down the row of cubicle walls to Ed’s corner office. I wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to make small talk with Greg. We never had before, so I kept quiet. Greg opened the door and walked in before me without looking back. Ed sat at his desk reading something. He didn’t make eye contact with me as I entered. He ran his finger down some text, and when he finished, he looked up at me. Greg stood in front of his desk and didn’t sit down until Ed motioned for him to do so. I sat down when he did and felt uneasy as I waited for one to speak. I didn’t know Ed personally, so I couldn’t read his cues.

  “Duncan, the Springfield project has been going on for a year now, and until now it’s been going well,” Ed said. “I could always count on you to keep things on track. But the past few months, the quality of your performance has gone down. Significantly.” I tapped my fingers on my thigh and nodded. “The implementation was a disaster. There are hundreds of employees down in Springfield waiting around with nothing to do because they can’t get orders through the system.”

  “Beth didn’t follow the documentation I created,” I said with confidence. “The employees entered the wrong information.” Ed responded with a blank stare. My heart jumped.

  “It was pretty clear what the programs needed to do,” Ed said.

  “And they did that. And then Beth changed the specs over and over again. She agreed to the changes.” I paused. “In writing.”

  “Duncan, simply put, the Springfield project was not implemented correctly, and we’re letting you go because of it,” Ed said.

  I froze.

  “But I did everything they asked me to do. Even the things that were the exact opposite of what I had previously been asked to do.” My eyes teared up when it hit me, but I would not let them get to me. I didn’t even care about my day job. The Factory was my life now. Maybe that’s why my performance suffered. Still, I had put a lot of effort into the Springfield project. Their blame was unjust.