by Alexa Land
“I don’t, though. I kind of feel like I permanently altered myself when I started doing drugs. Besides having to live with the constant craving, I also learned I couldn’t trust myself. I’d tell myself one thing, then turn around and totally contradict it, like when the lie of ‘just one more hit’ turned into way too many binges. I wonder if I’ll ever learn to have faith in myself again. I wonder if I should learn to do that. Maybe that distrust is a good thing. It might help keep me vigilant.”
“It all gets easier,” he said. “Not easy necessarily, but easier. I know you have to be feeling the pull of the drug every minute of every day, and while it may never totally vanish, it does become manageable.”
“Whenever I go even a few minutes without thinking about heroin, it feels like a triumph. The whole time we were out on the lake, I didn’t think about it once. That’s huge for me, and really reassuring.”
“There’s a lot to be said for keeping busy.”
“There’s even more to be said for amazing company. I know you want me to feel empowered, like I’m doing all of this on my own, but you’re helping so much, all the time. I’ve never had a day like this. Never. I can’t remember the last time I laughed that hard, or just had fun. Today makes me feel hopeful.”
“You know what? It makes me feel the same way. I don’t have a lot of days like this, either.” TJ got up and said, “Come on, let’s walk a little more. It’s so pretty out here.”
We ended up walking all the way around the island. When we finally returned to the car, he hesitated, then turned to look at me. “There’s something I do every time I come to Golden Gate Park. I almost hate to mention it, because we’ve been having so much fun and it’s…well, it’s beautiful and important, but it’s also pretty sobering.”
“The AIDS Memorial Grove?” I guessed.
He nodded. “Two people that meant the world to me are memorialized in the Circle of Friends. I always make a point of paying my respects.”
“We have to do that,” I said.
It wasn’t far from the lake, but we chose to drive. TJ parked on the street and we walked up to the grove hand-in-hand. The sun was just beginning to set, and we had the place to ourselves. The ring of redwood trees around the memorial cast long shadows. Nestled between them, the memorial was carved out in concrete and stone. It was surrounded by thick, lush landscaping that seemed to shelter and protect the names within.
A lump formed in my throat as TJ led me to a spot he obviously knew well and knelt down. I knelt with him. Name after name after name radiated out from a central point, like ripples in a pond. He brushed his fingers over letters etched into one of the inner rings and said, “John Robertson was my best friend. He died just two months after his brother David.” He reached out and ran his fingers over another nearby name, and a tear splashed onto the memorial. “When I got out of prison, I moved to San Francisco not knowing a soul. I ended up answering a ‘roommate wanted’ ad on a community bulletin board in the Castro. John and I became best friends almost immediately.
“The whole time I knew him, he was dying of AIDS. It was a different time back then, in the mid-nineties. The disease was a death sentence, not like now. John was considered a long-term survivor, because he’d lived with it for seven years when I met him, but his health was deteriorating fast and he knew it. My God though, the way he embraced every day, every minute! He lived more in the two years I knew him than most people do in eighty. He celebrated anything and everything. He was passionate and joyful, and I was so damn lucky to know him.
“I became close friends with his brother, too. He moved in with us the last six months of his life. John not only had to watch his brother die, he also had to see the fate that awaited him.”
TJ paused for a moment and took a deep breath. “David was skin and bones at the end. His cheeks were hollow, and his eyes were sunken. It was such an effort to speak, and he was in a wheelchair because he was too weak to walk. But he’d still crack jokes, and he’d try to make other people smile. David had this hot pink scarf with gold thread running through it. He’d have me tie it around his head, and then he’d ask me, ‘Do I look fabulous, Trevor James Dean?’ He loved my full name and insisted on using it. I always told him he looked beautiful, and that made him happy. He was wearing his scarf when he died. John and I buried him with it.”
Tears streamed down his face. TJ took another moment before continuing, so quietly, “And then…then the light went out in Johnnie’s eyes. It was like, once his brother was gone, my best friend stopped fighting. He knew death was chasing him, and he quit running.”
TJ swallowed hard and said, “When he caught the flu, we both knew it was the beginning of the end. He hadn’t deteriorated the way his brother did, but he’d always had asthma so his lungs weren’t very strong to begin with. The disease reminded me of a predator, zeroing in on his weakness, his vulnerability. When he caught the flu, he couldn’t recover. His lungs just gave out.
“I remember standing at his bedside in the hospital, watching what was left of my best friend. I knew death was coming for him that night. I felt it. I was holding his hand when he died. One minute he was there, and the next he just wasn’t anymore. I don’t know what I expected. Maybe something dramatic, the way it is in the movies. But there was nothing. He just went away.”
He pushed to his feet, and I went with him, clutching his hand. TJ whispered, “His name was John Aaron Robertson. He was thirty-six years old when he died, and he was kind, and he was gorgeous inside and out, and he was amazing. He loved his friends, and he loved life like no one I’ve ever met before or after. He was way too fucking young to die, and the world got a little colder and grayer and less beautiful when he left it.” TJ stooped down, kissed his fingertips, and pressed them to John’s name. He did the same for David, then stood up and took a deep, shaky breath.
I pulled him into my arms and we held each other for a long time. When we finally let go a little, he rested his forehead against mine and reached up with both hands to brush the tears from my cheeks. He said softly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry. I just wanted to tell their story. I think that’s important. As long as their memory lives on, they’re not gone. Not really.”
“Thank you for telling me about them.” I wiped the tears from his face just like he’d done with me, then draped my arms around his shoulders. Without thinking about it, I began to stroke the soft, dark hair at the nape of his neck.
“I usually come here by myself. It means so much to get to talk about them and to share their stories with you. I haven’t cried like this since right after they died. I guess I needed to let it out.”
I said, “I’m so glad you brought me here.”
“I feel bad. We were having so much fun.”
“I means everything to me that you’d let me share this with you, TJ. The lake was great, but this is too, in a totally different way. After all the support you’ve given me these last few weeks, I’m glad I can offer some in return. I feel like I’m always taking from you and never giving anything back.”
“You gave me so much,” he said softly. “Don’t you see? You gave me purpose and made me feel like I have something to offer. None of the people in my life need me. But you did, and it’s good to feel needed. Knowing you were depending on me gave me a reason to get up every morning. I felt like I was making a difference, and that was huge to me, Zachary. So don’t think for a moment this has been one-sided, because that’s absolutely not the case. I’ve gotten just as much out of it as you have, and that’s in addition to the gift of your friendship and the joy of getting to spend time with you.”
We watched each other for a long moment. The sunset made his skin look golden, and lit up the tips of his long, dark lashes. He was so beautiful.
Impulsively, I stretched up and brushed my lips to his. He cupped my face between his hands and returned the kiss gently, tenderly. Warmth and happiness flooded me as my heart flip-flopped. It was the most perfect moment of my entire life.
“For what?”
“I shouldn’t have done that. It was totally inappropriate.”
“You know I actually initiated it, right?”
He took another step back. There was turmoil in his eyes. “Yeah, but none of that should have happened.”
I felt like I’d just been kicked in the gut, but was careful not to let my emotions show as I said, “No, you’re right. That was crazy. I don’t know what I was thinking.” I backed away from him as I said, “I’m gonna go for a walk, give us both some time to…you know. Take a moment. See you later, okay?”
When he nodded, I turned and left the grove. I wanted to run, but made myself walk. I didn’t want him to think I was upset.
I cut through the park and eventually emerged onto Fulton Avenue. There was a bus stop nearby, and I quickly consulted the map on the side of the kiosk, plotting my route back home. It would take four transfers to reach Chance’s house from where I was. I pulled my bus pass from my wallet and used the back of my hand to wipe away the tears that were streaming down my face.
Chapter Fourteen
Chance answered the door when I knocked and pulled me into a hug as he exclaimed, “Zachary! Thank God!”
“Hey. Is it okay if I move back in?”
“You don’t even need to ask!” He held me by my shoulders and stepped back to look at me. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah. I’ve been clean for almost a month. It hasn’t been easy, but TJ helped me through it.”
“I had no idea you and Trevor’s dad were friends. Come in, sit down. Did you lose your key?” He led me toward the couch as he said that.
“I didn’t lose it. I’ve just been gone a long time and didn’t know if I should let myself in.”
“Of course you should. This is your home, Zachary.”
We settled in on the couch, and I asked, “Where is everyone?”
“Finn and my dad took the boys to see a movie. I wasn’t in the mood for car chases and explosions, so I decided to stay home with a book.” He was dressed for comfort in one of his husband’s sweaters, which was huge on him, and a pair of pajama pants. Chance studied me for a moment, then gently touched my cheek and said, “You look like you’ve been crying. TJ mentioned you were seeing a counselor to help with your recovery. Do you maybe want to give him a call?”
I sighed and said, “I’d been looking forward to showing you how good I was doing. That’s why I put off seeing you, I wanted to totally have it together so you’d know you didn’t have to worry about me anymore. I really am doing well, too. The first week was hell while I went through withdrawal, but since then I’ve gotten so much better. I feel stronger and clearer than I have in years. I did cry today, but it doesn’t have anything to do with my recovery.”
“What happened?”
I looked at the sofa and ran my fingers over the soft, dark red fabric. “I kissed TJ. It didn’t go well.”
“You…oh!”
“He returned the kiss for a moment, but then he instantly regretted it.”
Chance seemed to be at a loss. “Well…I mean, he is a lot older than you. Maybe that’s why he was hesitant to start something….”
I got defensive, despite myself. “But he’s living proof that age is just a number. We spent so much time together over the last few weeks, and never once did I feel the age difference.”
“I didn’t mean to imply there’s anything wrong with it. I just wondered if that’s what made him pull back.”
I thought about it and said, “Possibly. It never even occurred to me that our ages would be an issue though, not given the way we just fit.” I sighed and added, “Maybe he just thinks of me as a friend, but it’s confusing, because he definitely kissed me back.”
“You should talk to him. It sounds like you two have a lot to sort out.”
“We do need to talk, but I have to get my emotions under control first. He’d feel awful if he knew he upset me during my recovery.” I pulled out my phone and said, “I should text him so he doesn’t worry about where I am.”
There was so much I needed to say, but all I ended up with was: I decided to visit Chance, and now that I’m here, I think it’s a good time for me to move back home. I’m sorry I made things weird between us. I’ll talk to you soon.
I hit send and sighed. Ugh, such a fail. Chance asked what was wrong, so I showed him the text and said, “That’s not what I needed to say to him, and moving back here right on the heels of that kiss makes it even worse. He’s going to think I’m running away because it’s too awkward to be around him now.”
“Are you?”
“Shit, probably.” I looked at my friend and asked, “Why did I kiss him? That just messed everything up.”
“I think you kissed him because you’ve developed real feelings for TJ.” I thought about that, and when I nodded, Chance said, “So, what are you going to do?”
“No idea.” I got to my feet and said, “Can we continue this conversation in a few minutes? I’d like to get a shower, if that’s okay. I’ve been sweating all afternoon and I feel gross.”
“Of course it’s okay. You need to start thinking of this as your home again, Zachary.” Chance got up too and added, “I was about to make myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, since I skipped dinner. You want one?”
“That sounds great. Thank you.”
I grunted a little when I began to climb the stairs to get some clean clothes, and Chance asked, “Are you alright?”
“Yeah. My leg muscles just tightened up a bit. TJ and I took a pedal boat out on Stow Lake this afternoon. It ended up being a lot more aerobic than we’d planned when we had to outrun a goose with a burning desire to do us bodily harm.”
Chance chuckled and said, “Okay, the part with the goose is hilarious. The rest of it sounds an awful lot like a date. No wonder you kissed him.”
I paused on the stairs and turned to him. “I actually kissed him in the middle of the AIDS Memorial Grove. He’d wanted to stop off there after the lake and pay his respects, because two of his friends are memorialized in the Circle of Friends. He told me their stories, and we were both crying by the end. I felt so close to him in that moment, and that’s when I kissed him. I totally blew it.”
“It sounds like you followed your heart.”
I continued up the stairs as I said, “And look where it got me.”
*****
The hot shower felt good. Afterwards, I found Chance out on the back patio with a book and two sandwiches. I sat at the table with him and tucked my bare feet under me as I said, “So, tell me what’s going on with you. How’ve you been, and how are Finn and the boys?”
“Everyone’s fine, more or less. My brother is hating his junior year of high school, but I expected that. Elijah is feeling a little lost, I think, not that he says much to me. He started his classes at Berkeley, and I think the size of the school is overwhelming him a bit.” Colt and Elijah were the same age, almost eighteen, but the quiet little blond was a math prodigy. He’d been encouraged to skip his last couple years of high school and take classes at the university. Colt, meanwhile, was a grade behind, because he’d dropped out for a while after his mother died.
“How’s your dad’s house hunt going?”
“Tony finally found a place, after a major case of sticker shock coming here from Wyoming. He’s in escrow, it closes next week.”
“That’s great. He must be excited.”
My friend said, “I think Tony’s feeling a bit let down, because he wanted to provide a nice home for Cory. The kid never had that growing up. But in this overpriced housing market, the best my dad could do was a little fixer-upper. They could have gotten something bigger if they’d looked outside San Francisco, but Cory started high school with Colt and seems to be settling in, so they wanted to remain in the city. The house has a lot of potential, though.”
Chance had grown up without a dad, and
when he tracked him down maybe a year ago, it had been news to Tony that he had a son. They’d been building a relationship ever since, and Tony had moved to California to be closer to Chance. He’d also adopted Cory during that time, who’d been a troubled teen in foster care. I didn’t know Tony very well, but I’d always liked the fact that he was trying to build a family and do right by both his sons.
As we ate, I asked, “Do Jamie and Dmitri hate me for totally blowing off work? I’ve been afraid to call them.”
“No, not at all. They’re holding your job for whenever you feel up to going back. They were just worried. We all were. We’d suspected drugs were involved, and we were all so afraid you’d overdosed and were dead somewhere.”
I put down my sandwich and said, “God, I’m sorry for putting you through that.”
“I wish you’d told me what was going on with you, Zachary. I could have gotten you some help a lot sooner.”
“You really couldn’t. I wasn’t ready to get help, right up until that day when everything fell apart.”
He asked, “What finally convinced you to quit doing drugs?”
I told him about Gabriel, and how sick and afraid I’d felt, and about going back to prostitution, and then I said, “Even if the heroin didn’t kill me, I hated what it left behind, this soulless junkie who didn’t give a shit about anything but his next high. I finally called TJ, the same night you tried to do that intervention. He’d helped me once before and I knew he’d understand. He got me through that hellish first week while my body detoxed, and he found me a terrific counselor, who’s been seeing me pro bono because he and TJ are friends.”
“I blew it with that intervention. I should have known the last thing you’d want was a bunch of people getting in your face. I just felt so desperate after Finn told me he’d found you and described the condition you were in.”
“I’m so fucking sorry, Chance. I know you were just trying to help, and I hate myself for being so ungrateful and for worrying you like that.”