As You Are (18 page)

“Well”—Andy showed no signs of discomfort as he smiled—“I'm legally obligated to disclose any known defects with the home, but if the sellers don't disclose it, I may not know about it either.”

“My grandmother's house had a leaky basement.” Brad smiled and set down his glass of bourbon.

“So it's not really lying, I suppose, as long as you don't
know
about it, huh?” Danny asked.

“This wine is absolutely divine,” Mom said, obviously also hearing the unsubtly rude tone in Danny's voice as she set her glass back down on the table.

Andy rested his arms on the table and looked directly into Danny's eyes. “I'm neither a contractor nor a home inspector, and I unfortunately don't have x-ray vision.”

“Thank you, Delilah,” Brad offered to my mother as thanks for the compliment. “Julian, I certainly see to whom we can attribute your gracious amenities.”

“What a lovely compliment.” Mom smiled at Brad.

“You real estate people always have a sly little underhanded out, doncha?” Danny asked, refusing to allow the subject to die.

It was ridiculous. What in the name of holy gay hell did he think he was doing? “You know what I hate?” I asked, looking around the table smiling. “How it seems like all it takes to be gay these days is the undeniable need to suck dick.”

Gabby brayed out a laugh, and the fork that Mom dropped clattered loudly to her plate.

“Julian!” Mom said.

“Sorry, Mom.” I took a large gulp of wine. “The undeniable need for oral sex.”

Mom picked up her fork and shook her head with a disgusted sigh.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Danny turned his aggression toward me as he cut off another piece of his steak.

“I understand what you're saying.” Andy picked up the saltshaker and doused his new potatoes. “It's like the kids coming out of the closet these days don't take time to learn the basics.”

“Exactly!” I gave Andy a sweet smile and patted his hand. “I mean, I was talking to this
twenty-one-year-old
at the bar last week who'd never seen
The Wizard of Oz
and had no idea who Judy Garland was. Sacrilege!”

“I'm sure he regretted telling
you
that.” Danny took a drink. “What did you do? Have him barred?”

I was trying to will Danny dead with my eyes. Much to my dismay, I failed. “No, I wrote down a list of movies for him and told him he shouldn't be seen in public until he'd watched them all.”

“I got thrown out of a bar once.” Brad nodded his head.

“I'm sure it was most unsettling.” Mom reached over and patted Brad's hand.

“So what you are saying,” Gabby piped in, “is that there should be some type of gay boot camp where young homos are sent for a couple of months to listen to lectures like: Bette Davis: The Bitch, the Diva, and
All About Eve
, and Sideburns: To have or have not?”

“That's not a bad idea,” I said.

“Ridiculous.” Danny shook his head. “Maybe some people just don't like old movies.”

“Please,” I said, as if his last statement were completely outside the realm of possibility. “I'm talking seriously.” I set down my fork and leered at Danny from across the table. “I would think you'd like this idea. Lord knows you'd be down there applying for a job as an instructor.”

“And be away from you for two months at a time?” Danny smiled bitchily. “Never!”

“I know I couldn't stand to be away from Gabby that long.” Brad smiled at her from across the table and gave Gabby a wink.

“Thank you, sweetie.” Gabby grinned back.

“Brad, you're not gay,” I snapped as I rolled my eyes, now beyond irritated with his constant outbursts. “I don't think they'd send a straight man to lecture to gay men about our culture.”

“Julie,” Danny said in that pedantic tone that annoyed me to no end, “some people have better things to do than sit around learning about dead movie stars.”

“You're a bad gay!” I pointed accusingly as I screamed at him across the table, nearly hopping out of my seat.

“Why, because I'm not a Brie-eating, Andrew Lloyd Webber-listening, Judy-Liza-
Sound of Music
-loving
Funny Girl
?” Danny spewed back at me. “What do you want from me? I told you I like Bette Midler!”

“And
that's
the only reason your queer card hasn't been revoked, Mister!” I settled back down a bit, but I still wanted to slap the shit out of him before ripping off all his clothes. “There are standards to be met, and you're hanging on by a thread!”

“The fur sure is flying tonight.” Gabby grinned devilishly, taking a large sip of wine. “This is better than a Hepburn and Tracy movie marathon.”

“The two of you are acting like two-year-olds trying to see which one can pee the farthest,” Mom scolded. “Andy, I hope you can forgive them for behaving so poorly.”

“I grew up in a large family.” Andy wiped his mouth with his napkin. “This is nothing.”

“I agree, Delilah.” Gabby shook her head disapprovingly. “Come on now, you two. Kiss and make up.”

“Sorry, Delilah.” Danny looked down at his plate abjectly, adorably ashamed.

“Yeah. Me too.” I knew it hadn't sounded very convincing, and I didn't really care. I gave Gabby the stink eye. She shot an innocent smile back at me. Then I caught Danny giving Andy a nasty look.

Mom and Brad began a very polite conversation about wine, and I was surprised to see that Brad could actually speak without sounding like a one-liner loser. We finished our meal and all retired to the living room, where Mom ruled the conversation. Gabby and I eventually excused ourselves and escaped to the front porch to smoke up a storm and gossip.

It had been about an hour since our little table tension, but I was still fuming. I inhaled and blew out the smoke in quick, terse movements. I glanced over to see Gabby staring holes through me from the porch swing. She was smiling like she had a secret.

“Stop looking at me like that. It's creepy.”

Gabby took a puff of her ciggie. “You can't tell me you don't see it.”

“See what?”

“You really don't think he might be jealous?”

“Danny?” I slowly sat back in the swing. “Have you been smoking wacky weed? Within twenty-four hours of us…well, fucking, I guess was all it was.” I stopped, feeling the now-familiar sharp pain in my chest. “He'd dragged another man up to flaunt in my face and then had the audacity to
not
have sex with him. It was like he was intentionally trying to hurt me. Those aren't the actions of a man who cares for another.”

“That was an asshole move, but—”

“No buts!” I cut her off. “You were right before. He knows me well enough to know what that would do to me. It wasn't an accident. I didn't stumble onto him fucking some guy in the storeroom at the bookstore. He wasn't even making an attempt to hide it.”

“Well, one thing
is
for certain.” Gabby gave me her no-more-BS look. “You have no feelings about Andy, aside from perhaps friendship.”

I leaned forward, placing my elbows on my knees. I felt the sting from the disapproval in her voice. She didn't even need to say it. She was very disappointed in me for continuing to drag the poor boy into my mess of a life knowing full well it wasn't going to go anywhere. I opened my mouth to defend myself.

Gabby held up a hand. “I know exactly why you did it, but you need to stop it. You wouldn't want someone to do it to you.”

I sighed, knowing there was no defense left that could overcome that objection. I knew I was a heel, but I hadn't meant to be, not really. “I had hoped a spark would…”

“I know.” Gabby reached over and gave my leg a squeeze. “But it hasn't, and I think you now know it's not going to. Cut the poor boy loose.”

I nodded. “I'll do it after we leave. I just needed there to be something.” I sat up in the swing and snubbed out my butt. “He's a Southern Baptist.”

Gabby's eyes got wide, and she was literally biting her lips together to keep from laughing.

“He has a prayer book and everything.”

The corners of her mouth were turning up as she put out her ciggie.

“He wanted me to go to church with him.”

Gabby let loose with a garish laugh; I started laughing along with her.

“How can anyone be gay and still want to be a Baptist?” I shook my head in complete astonishment. While I thought God was all about loving thy neighbor, and I knew the baby Jesus loved me for exactly who I was, I strongly suspected the people running the organized religious institutions were a big pack of gay-hating, evil hell-minions. I just couldn't seem to wrap my brain around it.

* * * * *

I kissed Gabby good night. She thanked all of us for saving dinner and apologized for pulling a Sybil on us. She gave Mom a big hug, and they looked at each other and smiled as if they had a secret. A twinge of jealousy pinched at me sharply. I felt left out. I wasn't used to the women in my life bypassing me and talking on their own. Danny said he'd see me at home after he dropped Mom off at the hotel, and nodded brusquely at Andy, which I thought was pretty rude. Mother quite graciously gave Andy a peck on the cheek and simply said that it had been “lovely” to meet him. I could read her face. She knew she'd never see Andy again.

As I drove Andy home, we talked about the dinner party and laughed again at the sight of Gabby wearing an apron and smoking oven mitts. When I pulled up in front of his house, he turned to look at me and asked, “So what are you doing this weekend, 'cause I was thinking maybe you could come to church with me Sunday morning, and then we could drive to St. Louis for the day, have lunch, do a little shopping?”

I shuddered at the thought of dragging my tired, lazy ass out of bed to be yelled at about sin by one guy after having been screamed at by a bar full of boys wanting cock and tails the previous night. I looked into his eyes, hoping for some sign that would tell me it was going to work. All I could see when I looked at him was George W. Bush.

“Andy, I don't think this is going to work out between us.”

He looked at me with a disappointed expression, but not a very surprised one. I could sense he was trying to figure out what he might say to get me to give it more time.

“It's not you, it's me. I guess in a way I've been kind of leading you on. You're a really sweet man, and I desperately wanted you to be the one.” I debated getting into the whole business about being in love with someone else. “We have a few major differences that I don't think I'm going to able to deal with.”

“Like what?”

“It's a little beside the point, but your political and religious beliefs. When it comes to that, we are so polar opposites. I don't think I can be with someone…”

“I don't think anyone's ever broken up with me because I'm Baptist,” he said.

“And a Republican,” I offered, intending it to sound like a positive. It didn't come out that way. “I know you probably think I'm a horrible person.” I refused to feel bad about not liking the fact that his religion—the one he missed and wished he could go back to—tried to make gay people believe they were evil for who they loved. “Honestly, Andy…it's not even that so much as—”

“Danny,” Andy interrupted while staring down at the floor.

“I swear to you this whole mess all just came up over the weekend. I—”

Andy placed his hand over my knee, as if to say he didn't really want to hear any more. I felt like a complete prick, despite the knowledge I hadn't intentionally tried to hurt the guy.

“It's okay. I can't say I'm not disappointed, but…” He looked a little down opening the car door while pulling himself out of the seat. “Good-bye, Julian.”

“Sorry,” I tried to get out before I heard the car door shut.
Well done, Julian
. “You're sweet, but I can't deal with your politics. Oh, and your religion sucks too.” I leaned forward, placing my forehead onto the steering wheel, and sighed. I should have just told him I didn't like him. I sat back up and pulled away from the curb, realizing it didn't
actually
sound much better that way. I had yet to hear a blow-off line I'd liked.

As I drove home, I wondered about what some people called a balance in life between the good and the bad we were each dealt, and I worried. So many things had always come so easily to me, like friends. And real friends, not just acquaintances. The give-you-a-kidney kind of friends. I had the two greatest, most supportive parents in the world. I'd always done really well in school, without having to put any effort into it. That's probably why I went through so many majors. I'd never felt challenged by anything. I'd never had trouble with jobs. I was always the favorite, the star employee. I'd always been able to pick things up quickly and do them really well. It now frightened me. What if, in balancing out my life, I'd already used up all my good things, and now when it came to love, which was more important to me than all the rest combined, there was nothing left?

* * * * *

I walked into the loft from the stairwell. I could hear Danny slamming stuff around from inside his bedroom. The guilt I felt over Andy quickly shifted to the rage I felt toward Danny. I marched over to the island and tossed down my keys and cell. What in the name of Sam Hill did he have to be pissed about? I marched over to the fridge and snagged a bottle of water.