To Live Again (15 page)

“Well, yeah.” She smiled. “He’s dating my dad. Don’t I get to, you know, approve him?”

I laughed, more relief rushing through me. “Let’s not rush these things. I don’t know if it’s serious or anything. I mean, the divorce isn’t even final yet. And he’s, uh, quite a bit younger than me.”

“Younger? How much younger?”

“Young enough that his son is the same age as Kayla.”

“Really?” She smirked. “Well, I assume he didn’t start quite as young as I did, right?”

“Not quite, no. For the record, he’s thirty-seven.”

“That’s not
that
young.” She waved a hand. “And even if you’re on the rebound and you just met, I am kind of curious about this guy.”

“We’ll see. I’m trying not to pin too much hope on this. I haven’t been single in years. He’s the first man I’ve ever dated. Anything could happen. Or not happen.”

“Still, you never know. Even if it’s a rebound thing, sometimes those work out.” She tapped her wedding ring. “If the right guy comes along, he comes along. Don’t pass him by just because you’re still on the rebound.”

I released a breath. “Well, we’ll see how it goes. We’re still getting to know each other and all, so…”

April smiled, wagging a finger at me. “Is this where I get to lecture you about taking it slow, and how some guys have ulterior motives and—”

I burst out laughing, and so did she. “Very funny.”

“Hey, I learned from the best.” Her humor faded a bit, and she rested her chin in her hand. “So, are you going to tell Mark and Kurt?”

That sobered me right up. “I’m…not sure yet. I had to psych myself up to tell you.”

“Really?” She arched an eyebrow. “Did you really think I’d be upset?”

“I don’t know what I thought. It’s been a weird thing to get my head around, and I guess I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to find out one of my parents was gay. Bi. Whatever.”

“That must’ve been tough for you. Being married one day, and rethinking everything the next.”

“You have no idea,” I said, barely whispering. “So, the boys…I don’t know. Not yet.”

“You should,” she prodded. “I think the more open you can be with them, just like with me, the better.”

“You’re probably right. But give me a little time.”

“Okay.” She smiled, and then glanced toward the front of the coffee shop. “Should we order some food? I’m starving.”

Now that she mentioned it, my appetite had come back, and suddenly I was aware of how little I’d eaten since last night when I’d asked her to meet me in the first place.

“Food sounds good.” I pulled out my wallet and stood. “Let me know what you’re having—it’s on me.”

“Are you sure?”

“I invited you, and you let me get this off my chest. Besides, I’m your dad. I’m buying. Don’t argue.”

She laughed, and didn’t argue. After she’d told me what she wanted, I went up to the counter to order for both of us. And as I stood there, I rolled some of the residual tension out of my shoulders.

So this had gone much better than I’d expected. My daughter knew I wasn’t straight, and she knew I was seeing someone, and she was okay with that. Completely okay with it. She even wanted to meet Sailo.

I smiled to myself. Maybe I wasn’t ready for April and Sailo to meet, but just knowing that option was on the table gave me a little taste of the peace that had eluded me since Becky and I had split. Life was going on. I was moving on.

And for the first time in a long time, I really believed that whatever the future held, I was going to be okay.

Chapter Nineteen

The week after I came out to my daughter, Sailo had his son most evenings, and then he had a few deejay gigs over the weekend in between his regular appearances at Wilde’s, so we didn’t see much of each other until the following Monday. We kept up via regular texts, though, and since I was in the process of settling into my new place, I kept myself pretty busy, which made the time fly by. It would have been great to see him, of course, but I was doing okay on my own.

Finally, we were going to meet up for dinner. And not a moment too soon. Seeing him was going to be the bright spot in a day that was, otherwise, not great. It was “one of those days” at the office—people butting heads during meetings, higher-ups making unreasonable demands while the people I supervised made bullshit excuses—and it was capped off by a visit to my attorney. By the time I arrived at the restaurant on Broadway where Sailo and I had agreed to meet, I was sorely tempted to text him and bow out.

But I desperately needed that bright spot, so I took a shower to wake myself up, threw back some high-octane coffee, and headed over to the restaurant. I trudged in through the front door, and there he was.

Yes. Yes, this was definitely the bright spot in the day. One look at him—tan skin under warm lights, broad shoulders beneath a black T-shirt, that grin that made my spine tingle—and I had to smile. After the day I’d had, and seeing him now, I understood that expression “sight for sore eyes.”

As I came up to the table, he stood and kissed me, which strangely didn’t bother me in the slightest even though we were in public. Let people stare—I didn’t mind if they knew I was with him.

We took our seats, facing each other across the small linen-covered table.

“Good to see you,” he said as he closed his menu. “Sorry I couldn’t get together the last few days.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” I opened my own menu and quickly scanned it. “I’ve been keeping myself busy settling into the new place.”

“Yeah? How’s that going?”

“Not bad, so far. I’m getting used to the apartment. Liking it a lot, actually.”

“That’s great.”

I nodded. “So how did that gig go yesterday? You said you were kind of worried about it.”

“It was fine.” He half shrugged. “Evan was still kind of sick, but he did make it, and between the two of us, we did all right. Mostly, it was a long day.”

I grimaced. “And he made it through the day too?”

Sailo nodded. “Kid’s tough as hell. I sent him home an hour or so before the end because he was starting to get woozy again.”

“Working with a deejay after being down with a migraine?” I whistled. “I’d be woozy just thinking about it.”

“Right? I paid him extra for yesterday. He deserved it.”

“No kidding.”

We chatted for a while about his various gigs, and the crazy shit that always seemed to happen when he worked at Wilde’s. Never a dull moment at that place, apparently—if he and the bartenders weren’t breaking up a vicious fight between two drunk boyfriends, they were breaking up the same two boyfriends having makeup sex in the bathrooms. Ironic, considering how many of the employees apparently used the VIP lounge the same way Sailo and I did, but at least there weren’t customers up there while we were there.

After we’d ordered and given our menus to the waiter, I clasped my fingers loosely on the table. “So I came out to my daughter.”

Sailo sat straighter. “Really? How’d that go?”

“Better than I thought it would. She was surprised, but she was okay with it.”

“That’s great,” he said. “Can’t ask for much better than that.”

“No kidding. She, uh, thinks I should tell my boys, and she’s probably right.” I blew out a breath. “Just not sure I’m ready for that conversation. It took a lot to work up the guts to tell
her
.”

“You think it’ll be different with them?”

“Probably.” I drummed my fingers on the table. “Kurt, my youngest, is pretty laid-back. And we’re close. I don’t know. He’s got a lot on his mind right now. Settling into college and all of that.”

“Freshman?”

I nodded. “So, I don’t know. I’ll have to gauge how stressed he is when I see him next, and go from there. As for Mark, my middle son…” My heart sank. “That’s a bit more complicated.”

Sailo tilted his head. “How so?”

“Well, Becky and I have been trying to get him to talk to us for a long, long time.”

“About what?”

“Anything. When he was a teenager, he kind of clammed up, and that’s never changed. We’ve been worried sick about him—we even put him in therapy because we were afraid he was going to hurt himself.”

“Oh.” Sailo’s eyes widened. “Was he depressed?”

“Yeah. He has been for years. I mean, he seems to be on an even keel now. I think?” I sighed. “He still sees the therapist, thank God. And she promised us that even after he turned eighteen, she’d say something if she thought he was going to attempt suicide or something. So I trust her. I just…” I rubbed the back of my neck, wondering when the muscles had started tightening up like this. “I wish he’d talk to us.”

“Well, maybe this is an opportunity.” Sailo held my gaze. “If you can open up to him, maybe he’ll feel safe opening up to you.” He paused, then lifted his shoulder in a vague half shrug. “Or it could be that he’s not an open book. Some people aren’t.”

I nodded. “I know. But it’s…it’s not easy being that distant from your own kid.”

“I can imagine,” he said, almost whispering.

I absently played with the edge of my faux leather placemat. “Does your son know you’re gay?”

“Oh yeah. I mean, he’s been raised from day one by a lesbian couple and a dad who has the occasional boyfriend.” He chuckled, reaching for his soda. “Homosexuality wasn’t exactly a shocker for him.”

“I guess it wouldn’t be. Wow. Talk about two different generations.”

“Right?” He took a quick drink. “No way in hell it would’ve been like this when I was his age.”

“Tell me about it. At the risk of aging myself, I didn’t exactly grow up in a generation that embraced ‘alternative lifestyles.’”

Sailo shrugged. “Isn’t even aging yourself, really. My generation wasn’t so hot about it either. It still kind of amazes me that it’s no big deal with kids now. My son’s friends know he has two moms, and it’s so rare for anyone to give us the stink eye or make a negative comment, that it makes us all kind of pause and wonder what the big deal is.”

“Well.” I raised my glass. “Here’s to a generation that will wonder why the hell ours thought being gay
was
such a big fucking deal.”

He clinked his glass against mine. “I’ll definitely drink to that.”

* * * * *

After dinner, we walked down Broadway, and then followed Pike to one of the more colorful parts of Capitol Hill. I was very quickly falling in love with this area. There were some neighborhoods in Seattle that were on the hipster end of the spectrum, some that were so plain, they were painfully dull. Capitol Hill, though, was a mix of everything. The odd record store, endless bookstores, ethnic and eclectic restaurants, shops specializing in everything from mystic crystals to imported household items, art galleries ranging from extremely high end to things the average person could actually afford to put in their living room. There was even a community college and a funeral home right smack in the middle of it all. I was reasonably certain someone could venture no farther than a block off Broadway in either direction and be able to find literally anything they needed or wanted.

“You know,” I said as we strolled along, “I had no idea there were so many shops and stuff up here.”

“One of the best-kept secrets in Seattle.”

“Seriously. I’ve lived in Seattle my whole life, but I haven’t spent a lot of time up here.”

“In the gay neighborhood?” He glanced at me, clutching his chest in mock surprise. “What a shock.”

I laughed. “Well, okay. But it’s not like that’s the
only
reason people come to Capitol Hill.”

“It’s a reason for people to avoid it, though.”

“Yeah, I guess it is.”

“Which is kind of a good thing, if you think about it.”

I turned to him. “How do you figure?”

“Keeps all the bigots out.”

“Good point. Very, very good point.”

We continued down the sidewalk, and a few doors down, a window display caught my eye, and I stopped dead. “What the…”

Sailo halted too, and burst out laughing. “Heat definitely knows how to get people’s attention.”

“Heat?” I looked up at the sign. “Oh, right. Ethan told me about this place.” I lowered my gaze to the window again. Indeed, they knew how to get people’s attention. A couple of mannequins had been dressed in wildly mismatched lingerie, with one arranged to be down on one knee, proposing to the other. Instead of an engagement ring, though, the kneeling mannequin offered a black box containing a pair of nipple clamps.

Beside me, Sailo chuckled. “I think they’re trying to compete with The Oh Zone. The people at that place also seem to like having fun with their displays.”

“So I see.” I cleared my throat. “The sex shops in this part of town are certainly, uh, racier than the ones I’ve been to.”

“Really?” He flashed me a grin. “You went to sex shops before?”

“Uh, well.” I laughed self-consciously. “I’ve been to them before, but it’s been a while.”

“Want to go in?” He gestured at the door. “Maybe we can find something to play with next time.”

I shrugged. “Why not?”

So, with my…boyfriend, for lack of a better term, walking ahead of me, I stepped through the door of Heat. Yeah, this was like most sex shops I’d been to—tons of lingerie, strange varieties of condoms, enough porn to sink a battleship. It was definitely racier, though. Behind the racks of lingerie was a wall covered in floor-to-ceiling shelves, and those were stocked with every kind of dildo imaginable. And I knew dildos now—God knew I’d browsed through every type, size, and style offered by The Oh Zone’s website. Rubber, plastic, metal, even some colorful glass varieties that, if memory served, required a second mortgage to purchase.

Another set of shelves were buckling beneath the weight of lubes. There were literally dozens of brands, varieties, and…flavors? “Sampler” bottles were even set up so someone could put some on their finger and see if they liked it.

As we made our way past the lube and dildos, a twenty-something guy with “Kenny” on his name tag approached and cheerfully asked, “Can I help you gentlemen find anything?”

Sailo turned to me, eyebrows up.

I shook my head. “No, I think we’re just looking around. Thanks.”

“Okay,” Kenny said. “Just holler if you need anything!”

“Will do,” I replied.

He walked back toward the cash register. As he did, Sailo made a not-so-subtle gesture of checking the guy out, then turned to me and grinned. “He’s cute. Nice ass too.”

I glanced after him, and yeah, he was right—Kenny had a hell of an ass, especially in those snug leather pants. “Mmhmm.”

A devilish grin formed on Sailo’s lips. “Want to see if he’s free after work?”

“Free?” I arched an eyebrow. “For…?”

The grin broadened.

The pieces fell together, and I nearly choked. “Are you serious?”

Sailo burst out laughing and patted my arm. “I’m just fucking with you. Relax.”

“Okay, good.” I chuckled, my cheeks burning. “Not…quite sure I’m ready for that.”

“It’s fine.” He wrapped his arm around my waist and whispered in my ear, “As if I’d share you anyway.”

I shivered. “I think you’re all I can handle.”

“Good. As it should be.” He kissed my cheek and let me go, and we continued wandering through the shop.

I had to admit, his good-natured possessiveness fucked with my blood pressure. It was probably just as well we were in a sex shop—much more of this, and I’d have a visible hard-on, but that had to be par for the course in here.

Par for the course, but not terribly comfortable. I made a subtle gesture of adjusting the front of my pants, and hoped to God no one noticed. Sailo didn’t. Kenny didn’t seem to. Why was I so worried about it?

Because I’m a nervous, self-conscious idiot. That’s why.

We turned a corner and found ourselves in the bachelorette party and novelty section. It was everything imaginable that could be used for a party—cups, hats, banners, cookware—but either shaped like a penis or covered in plastic penises.

Sailo put on a pair of sunglasses with a rubber penis sticking out from the nose piece. He turned his head one way, then the other, making the penis wobble from side to side. “How the hell are you supposed to see with these?”

I laughed. And, hell, I couldn’t help myself—I found a hat shaped like a cock and balls and put it on. “Well? What do you think?”

Sailo stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Hmm. It’s a little…lopsided.”

I tried to straighten it, which made the whole thing sag in front of my eyes, and Sailo snorted. Then I snickered, and suddenly we were laughing our asses off. Okay, so it wasn’t our most mature moment, but after the day I’d had? I wasn’t going to bitch. Dinner with Sailo, wandering through Capitol Hill, and collapsing into fits of laughter over some dick-shaped merchandise—that definitely made up for an otherwise shitty day.

“We really should get a picture,” he said, pulling out his phone.

“I agree.”

We each put on a pair of the sunglasses with the penises on the nose pieces, and took a selfie together. As I put the glasses back on the rack, I turned to see him tapping something into his phone.

“Put that on Facebook,” I warned, “and there will be hell to pay.”

He laughed. “I’m not putting it on Facebook. I’m just sending it”—he tapped the screen—“to you.”

And right on cue, my phone buzzed.

I pulled it out and looked at the picture that had just come through. Oh yes, this was one I’d need to keep to myself, but it was hilarious. And, I realized, the first and only photo I had of the two of us together. No way in hell was this getting deleted any time soon.

I pocketed my phone, and we kept wandering through the shop.

The next aisle was nothing but porn, so we skipped it. No point in spending forty bucks on a DVD when there was plenty of free stuff on the Internet. Not that I’d ever looked.