FIVE MARRIED MEN
Chapter 1
I can’t remember the day I noticed the center of my loins had
taken on the mature dimensions of a man, or when that
unnamed ghost passed through me to leave its secret imprint
on my fibers—I now believe it was in my mother’s womb. When
it came into my consciousness in the form of an inherent heat,
I tried to ignore it, for there were other codes and laws that governed me, laws of greater weight and
codes that did not curl society’s stoic lips. Now at forty-three, that phantom is more often on my skin.
“Want some pizza for lunch, Mr. Westin?”
David Westin looked up from the words he had just written, preoccupied with that reoccurring
daydream. Janie, his young receptionist, had stepped into his office. She was looking at him as if
she interrupted something.
“Pizza?” he said, disoriented.
“Yeah. We’re ordering in,” Janie said, rubbing her pierced eyebrow.
“Uh, no thanks. I’m meeting James Cooper for lunch.”
Janie smiled and backed quietly out of the room.
David looked at the yellow pad, then tore off the top sheet and put it through the shredder. Writing it
out brought little relief. He got up from behind the desk and walked over to the plate glass window and
stared out. The Dallas skyline loomed less than two miles away. Sixteen floors below the eclectic
uptown streets bustled with midday traffic. Oaklawn, Dallas’ liberal stronghold. It was his favorite part
of the city. He felt comfortable there: old and new architecture side by side, restaurants and shops,
people of every persuasion. He and his wife had remodeled a home on one of its tree-lined streets
not five years ago.
Next door the girders and I-beams of yet another tower rose higher every day. His gaze shifted to a
certain construction worker a couple of floors below. Naked above the waist, sinewy shoulders
bronzed by sun, the young stud carried on with his work, his mind on God knows what.
Nightclubs. That’s what you’re thinking about. Beer and hot women. You’re like those hounds in
beer commercials on TV.
One among a dozen nurturing the skeletal frame, he sat astride an I-beam, riveting it into place. It
wasn’t the first time David had watched him work.
Do your women know how beautiful you are?
Nothing about the construction worker escaped David’s attention: the jeans damp and clinging, the
sweat streaking in dirty rivulets down his back, the thin streak of black hair trailing down his belly. The
image fired his imagination and a hair-trigger fantasy that had intensified in recent months. He felt it in
his hands, an awareness potent enough to have pulled him to the window to see if the young buck was
still there.
How did I get like this? Why does it haunt me every day?
It was different during the early years, when his fast paced life and the love he shared with his wife
displaced the haunting urges. But now, at times like this, it could become an all-consuming hunger.
Having it bottled inside for so long, David had come to wits end. He felt desperate, desperate to talk
to someone, and he planned to. Though the risk felt like acid in his belly, he intended to confide in his
best friend. Just get it out. Just talk. Have someone understand.
Who else can I talk to? James’ll understand. He’d never be judgmental.
David twisted his head to work out the tension.
Why after twenty years of marriage? Why would I love to bring that guy up here and devour him?
What caused his predisposition had never been clear, but as he came to realize he would not live
forever, the urgency now came into his hands when his eyes first opened each morning. He was
older. His company in recent years had taken on its own momentum—less demand on his time and
energy. There was time to think. His days, free of the endless tasks of days gone by, provided
occasion to reflect, to face the riddles of his soul.
Staring at his reflection in the glass, he saw more than sandy brown hair and blue-green eyes and the
smooth, tanned skin of a man he wasn’t sure he knew. He saw a man whose youth had begun to fade,
even though routine weight lifting in the gym kept his body firm—fine shape, he thought, for forty-three.
People often told him he looked younger, but that didn’t explain where all those years had gone. Now
this. This ripening inside. These urges that distracted him from a rewarding career in commercial real
estate that began with a decade of challenge and had finally evolved to provide a life of style and
wealth.
But then, how much of that really mattered? Hadn’t those material aspirations over the years receded
in importance? Had he not learned what’s truly important in life, the simple things that nurture the soul?
His hands turned into fists. He felt anxious to talk to James, to get his reaction, to get it over with. He
hoped for relief. If James would just listen, perhaps empathize or offer reassurance, it would mean
more to him than James could possibly know. If it also meant risking a life long friendship and sharing
a secret that could destroy his life, so be it—the alternative seemed like insanity.
A crane lowered another I-beam. The construction worker guided it from below and held it steady
while the man above riveted it in place. Reaching over his head, his shoulder muscles flexed. His
unbelted jeans barely clung to his hips. David would leave his office thinking about those muscles . . .
and dreading the very real possibility of losing the respect and admiration of the man he loved.
He glanced at his watch.
I’ll leave now. Get there early. Find a secluded table. Someplace I can talk without being
overheard. He paused at the door and looked at his hands, then closed his eyes with a hard swallow.
Oh God, please . . . please let me get through this.
* * *
James Cooper entered the busy restaurant thinking about his best friend. They had played golf
Sunday. David’s mind had wandered all day. Almost like a personality in transition, David had been a
growing concern for several months. As his lawyer, James represented his real estate transactions.
As his friend, he had noticed him wandering from matters at hand during closings and negotiations.
James was glad David had invited him to lunch. He planned to clear the air.
James paused just inside the front door to let his eyes adjust to the dim light in the room. Two or three
heads turned in his direction. An attorney of considerable success, at forty-one he easily looked five
years younger. At six foot two he towered over most. His dark eyes carried a gaze of perpetual
wonder and his broad nose flared slightly as he breathed. His full lips were an undeniable
proclamation of his African heritage. Casting the demeanor of a dominant male, he walked and
conducted his affairs with an air of authority. Over the years his legal maneuvers had intimidated more
than a few, aided no doubt by his muscular stature, distinguished good looks and sharp wit.
He circled the dining room, scanning the tables to see if David had arrived, spotting him at a corner
table. Approaching, he slipped off his blazer and draped it across the back of the chair. James knew
him well. He had been involved in deals with David for fifteen years. They lifted weights for an hour or
so three times a week. They were partners in a couple of joint ventures and routinely vacationed
together with their wives. He knew something was wrong. With one quick glance he recognized that
familiar distance in David’s eyes.
“Been here long?”
David shook his head.
“I’m famished.” James scooted his chair under the table, noting his friend’s furtive glances. “What’s
good here?”
A silence passed.
“David, did you hear me?”
“Uh . . . yeah, sorry. The shrimp salads are good.” David lifted the menu absently.
“Okay, that’s it. Lately being around you has been like hanging out with a zombie. So what is it?
What’s been on your mind these past few weeks?”
Everyone’s asking me that. Is it that obvious?
“I’ve seen something like this before,” James said. “A guy in our office. Just turned forty when he
learned his wife was pregnant. He walked around in a daze, mumbling something about how he was
going to spend his life raising kids, then die.” James paused to study him for a moment. “Is Linda
pregnant?”
“You trying to ruin my lunch?”
“Okay then. What is it? We played golf Sunday. Your mind was somewhere else all day. Two weeks
ago you lost a big remodel contract. You forgot the most important meeting. Remember that? The
guy planned to give us his decision at that meeting. You simply forgot about it. So I’m not backing off
until you tell me what the hell is bothering you.”
David’s face suddenly felt hot. He glanced around the dining room, his eyes unable to settle. His
stomach was churning. James was coming on in an impatient huff. How would he react to something
he couldn’t possibly be expecting?
The waiter appeared. David, staring at the table, didn’t notice. James shifted his eyes to the waiter.
“Two shrimp salads and two beers. Guinness.” The waiter jotted down the order and moved on to
another table.
“I’m waiting for an answer, David.”
David drew a breath. “Can you keep something from your wife?”
Bewildered, James studied him for a moment. “Why are you asking that?”
“Can you?”
James looked away in thought. “Well, right off hand I can’t think of anything I’d keep from Shasha. I
certainly wouldn’t hide anything that might have a negative impact on her.”
“I’m not talking about anything that might have a negative impact. It’s something personal.”
James studied him a moment longer. It was obvious. Something was bothering David that he didn’t
want repeated, not even to Shasha. “You haven’t been unfaithful?”
“You know me better than that! It’s just that I can’t . . .”
“You can’t what?”
“I can’t talk to Linda about this.”
“Hmm . . . sounds like any minute you’re gonna tell me what’s bothering you.”
“I can’t talk to you either, unless you swear to keep it between us. James . . . I’m on the edge, but I can’
t tell you why if you don’t promise to keep your mouth shut.” He paused and exhaled a breath through
his nose. “All I want to know is if I can confide in you without Shasha finding out.”
James realized his buddy was more of an emotional wreck than he had assumed. Watching him,
concerned, he said: “Sure you can. Consider it attorney client privilege.”
“Okay.” Another deep breath. “It’s about me. I’ve known since high school. Even before that really.
Back then I figured it would pass. Thought it was some kind of a phase. To some degree it did pass.
I was too busy in college to dwell on it. Had to work to pay tuition. After college . . . well you know, you
were there. Life was a whirlwind. Deals, deadlines, real estate crashes, raising kids." David paused.
“I remember.”
The pause stretched a moment longer as David labored for a place to begin. “James, I believe . . . no,
I’m worried what I have to say might impact our relationship. I don’t want to lose my best friend.”
“You have to talk to me now, or I’ll assume you’ve been exposing yourself in church parking lots,” he
said lightly, then took on an expression of sincerity. “Seriously, I’m a little put off you said that. You
should know nothing will ever change our friendship. That just won’t happen. You have a problem—I’m
the one you talk to.” He noticed David’s fidgeting hands.
“Oh God!” David moaned. He still couldn’t decide if telling James was a good idea, or find the
courage to come out and say it.
“Are you all right?”
“Yeah, I suppose. I knew this would be hard. Just didn’t realize how hard.”
“It couldn’t be financial trouble.”
“Wish it was that simple.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I was so sure I could talk to you
about this, but . . .”
“What the hell am I going to do with you? You asked me here to talk about something that’s bothering
you, so dammit, just spit it out.”
“Okay. I will. I’m . . .” David closed his eyes and released a breath. “I’m bisexual.” He said it. Now he
felt like he was falling through space.
James stared at him. The expression on his face wasn’t revulsion or disbelief, more like he had
awoken from a dream, unsettled.
“You heard right. I’m attracted to men. Sometimes it really gets to me.”
James’s heart was pounding harder. A small panic swelled in his chest. An urge to stand, to move, to
think, came over him. It was the last thing he expected to hear David admit to. IRS problems, over
leveraged borrowing—maybe. Attracted to men—never. David was as hard driving and masculine as
any man he had ever known.
James stood, his thoughts swirling like leaves on a windy day. He ran his hand down the back of his
head. Unaware of his own movements, he turned toward the potted plants near the table, staring into
them blankly. The memory of the man he had lived with in college had formed in his mind like an
undying ghost from the past.
Surrounded by the environs of a busy restaurant, David felt alone and confused. He couldn’t
understand James’s reaction. He waited for him to sit back down. His morale sank lower than he had
expected. It appeared he faced an unpredictable outcome.
When James returned to his chair, the waiter walked up with salads and beer and placed the food
before them before hurrying away. Not sure what to say, James stared at his friend, aware of the
angst that had drained his face of color. He thought of Linda, David’s wife, the woman who was also
his own dear friend. Everyone who knew David knew he cherished her. Not only had their marriage
endured twenty years, David and Linda were buddies. The two of them even enjoyed working
together. She had participated in many of his projects over the years. She would never be able to
deal with this. James could hardly produce a coherent thought or think of anything he might say.
“Uh . . . I . . .”
“So I said it,” said David, his voice hinting defiance. “Should I worry?”
“Worry?”
“You and me. Our friendship.”
“No, no, I’m just . . .”
“Shocked?”
“Well, yeah. Shocked. That’s a good word.”
As he sat in the heartfelt grip of David’s pleading eyes, James’s state-of-mind was like a handful of
marbles that had been thrown against a wall. It seemed their conversation had mired in tar. James
found himself at a complete loss, though his friend obviously needed reassurance. But this issue
affected him personally. It lived in his past and had now, by virtue of David’s confession, brought him
to a state of anxiety, which wore the mask of a strange new kind of fear.
David closed his eyes. By declaring his bisexuality he had gotten through perhaps the most difficult
task he had ever faced. It had been impossible to predict James’s reaction. He could have been
indignant or put off, but what David saw on his face looked worse than that. David glanced toward a
young couple getting up from their table and watched the man toss a few bills near the check. Feeling
defensive, he wasn’t sure what to do or say.
“I was afraid you wouldn’t understand.”
“No . . . that’s not it, David. I’m not sure how to explain how I feel. I can’t explain . . . not right now
anyway.”
“If that’s not it, why do you look like you just found out your father is Jack the Ripper?”
James’s eyes darted around as if he were looking for words that couldn’t be found. He suddenly took
his cell phone from his pocket. “Hold on a second,” he said, looking up a number on the speed dial.
He pushed a few numbers, and then stared at the table awaiting an answer. “Yes, Hank Thompson
please. . . . Hank, James Cooper here. . . . Fine, how are you? . . . Good. Hank, I’d like a favor. It’ll
sound strange, but give me a hand with this and I’ll explain later. I want to get away for a while. . . .
Yes, I want to come out to San Diego. Call my secretary and tell her you want me out there to help you
on a complicated partnership development. . . . Yeah. Tell her it’ll take a week. . . . Can you call as
soon as we hang up? . . . Good. Thanks. I’ll talk to you soon.”
He put the phone back into his pocket and glanced at David.
Bewildered, David deeply regretted making the confession. He had anticipated the possibility of a
radical reaction, but he had not expected to be sitting across the table from someone he hardly knew.
James looked at his salad. “Guess I just thought I was hungry.” He pushed aside the plate, reached
for the beer and took a long swallow.
“It was a mistake. I shouldn’t have tried to talk to you about this. It’s obvious. Now I feel emptier than I
did before. . . . I’m scared, James. I feel I’m losing my best friend over something I can’t help.”
The words stabbed James’s heart. In spite of his own anxiety, he couldn’t allow his friend to dwell in
such sorrow. “David, I’m sorry. God forgive me. Everything I said before you told me you’re . . . well,
everything I said earlier is true. I’ve always been your best friend. Always will.” A tear formed in his
eye as he looked at David. “I can even say I love you. It’s just that I don’t . . .” James looked at the
table, his words lost again.
David stared at him a moment. Lost in a confusion of emotions, he felt anger more than anything. “If it
wasn’t a mistake bringing it up, why did you suddenly made plans to disappear for a week, for God’s
sake?”
James couldn’t think of a way to explain his reaction without being drawn into something he couldn’t
talk about. He attempted to mask it. “It has nothing to do with you. I’ve got to sort some things out,
that’s all. There’s no peace around my house with three daughters and Shasha’s energy, so I’m going
out to San Diego for a few days.”
“All of a sudden!” said David indignantly. “Just like that! Just after I bring up my situation? Bullshit! It’
s got something to do with what I said.”
James’s shoulders dropped. “Does that matter?” he said, exasperated.
“As-a-matter-of-fact, it does. If you want to be alone to re-evaluate your opinion of me as a man, it
matters to me. Telling you about this was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. You can’t imagine how
much it matters.”
James looked down at the table. He could not escape the desperation in his friend’s eyes. “David,
please. Don’t read in the wrong message.” He looked back up. “This has to do with me, not how I
feel about you as a man. I’m not being judgmental. Our friendship hasn’t changed. It’s me. I just have
to figure out how to deal with it.”
“Guess I wasn’t expecting it to have this kind of impact on you. I didn’t know what your position would
be. Still don’t. It sure looks negative. You’re going to be gone for a week. I’m going to be wondering
what’s going on.”
“Give me a break, David. You’ve known about this for a long time. I’m just now hearing it.” James sat
quietly for a moment, staring at nothing. “You don’t seem like the type. There’s never been a clue. It’s
like something you must have realized here recently.”
“A man doesn’t suddenly realize he’s attracted to other men. I told you, I knew before high school. It
affects you differently when you get older. I think about it more now. It’s like being who I am on one
hand, but then there’s another part of me demanding attention. It feels as natural as any perception I
have. It’s not that I’m attracted to men—that feels normal to me—it’s the conflict it causes.” He studied
James’s troubled expression. He looked away in thought, rubbing his forehead with his fingertips,
then his hand fell into his lap. “I shouldn’t have expected you to understand. It’s made me feel
ridiculous and vulnerable.”
David’s confession had registered in James’s mind as a complicated and undeniable truth. He felt a
rush of adrenaline. He had always assumed a man would suffer any indignity before admitting a
fondness for men, especially a man like him. He himself would have never been able to do it. Things
seemed different. David had somehow altered his perspectives—the weight of an old demon had
again taken its place on his shoulders. He needed time to think, to come to an understanding how this
revelation might affect their future; and most important of all, to decide if this subject should ever come
up again.
As his eyes sought refuge on the palms of his hands, his voice sounded like a thought spoken out
loud. “Perhaps I understand better than you think.” James looked up, then quietly came to his feet. “I
have to leave now.”
David, the ache in his heart unbearable, watched his best friend move deliberately through the
cramped tables as he made his way to the front of the dining room. His silhouette merged with the
glare of sun when he opened the door, and then disappeared from view.
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