| Chapter 20 |
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David, still in the position he had slumped into two hours before, sat staring out the
eighth floor window. He had driven directly to the hotel with his packed bag. There had
been only one other time in his life he remembered being this despondent—the day his
son was born. The future looked uncertain then. Too young to be taking on the
responsibilities of fatherhood, he was barely making enough money to cover the rent.
On the road, working in sales for a light fixture company, he got the call late at night in
an Abilene motel room. Linda had delivered two weeks early. It was all he could do to
muster the wherewithal to get in the car and drive back to Dallas.
He felt worse than that now.
I’m gonna lose her.
Of course she would be angry, even hostile; but he thought they would end up talking it
out. Didn’t she know he would have never been involved in something like that without
a compelling reason? For that matter, didn’t she know James? Didn’t she know
neither of them would intentionally hurt their wives? He felt both angry and confused
that she labeled him as queer, that she heaped his relationship with James on the
same dunghill known as infidelity. How could he make her see what it’s like being hard-
wired with that longing in one’s hands, that breathless feeling in the wake of a dream,
that undeniable instinct inherent in so many men? Alone and feeling worthless, self-pity
heightened his guilt. He had fallen into a stupor, a self-feeding circle of conflict and
regret.
He could never regret loving James. Not emotionally or physically. And though
seeking out the others may have compounded the problem, considering the
uncommon friendship that had evolved, he couldn’t regret that either. There was but
one true regret—the unthinkable price. In the end, surrendering to such treasure meant
sacrificing a future with the only woman he ever loved.
The cell phone rang. He lifted it wearily to his ear. He knew it would not be Linda.
“Hello.”
“Are you home?” It was James’s voice.
“I’m in a room at the Anatole.”
“I was afraid to call. Been sitting in a vacant parking lot for over an hour.”
“Evidently it didn’t go well for you either,” said David.
“No. Can I join you?”
“I’ll go down and wait for you in the atrium.”
David heard a click and his body stirred for the first time since he sat down. He looked
around at the sterile walls and then came to his feet.
Thirty minutes later James approached and took a seat at his table in the atrium bar.
The camaraderie of dozens of conventioneers drowned the possibility of anyone
overhearing their conversation.
James was fidgeting with a napkin. “Did you think we’d get kicked out?”
“Don’t know what I thought.”
“It was a mistake. We shouldn’t have told them.”
“So it seems. It’s like I had the breath kicked out of me, like this can’t really be
happening. Not after twenty years and all we’ve been through together.”
“I’m scared, David. Nothing like this has ever happened to me. Walking out of the
house was like falling off a bridge. That’s what it felt like. I caught myself on the car to
keep from collapsing.” James looked away. The chaos in his mind displaced rational
thought. He closed his eyes and bit his lower lip. Panic had been coming in random,
consuming waves, as it was now. He looked skyward, his eyes stressed, scanning the
floor upon floor of landings that spanned the open space above their heads. Oblivious
to the commotion around them, his chest heaved with deep breaths, which seemed to
eventually have a calming effect. His eyes shifted to David. “I’m having real trouble
with this. Her reaction was predictable. I knew she’d explode. When it happened I
wasn’t prepared. The way she looked at me. The tone of her voice. I couldn’t
breathe. I’m scared I’ll hear from her lawyer tomorrow.”
David looked away. It was difficult seeing the man he loved this way. He stared
across the open bar, through a throng of revelers from places unknown, most of whom
had already had one or two drinks too many and were becoming people they could
never be back home. He saw animated lips pressed to cell phones and laughter and
boisterous conversation. It all fell on his ears like a cacophony of dull noise. He
subconsciously shared James’s fear. The thought of a lawyer coming between him
and his wife made his skin crawl.
“It won’t come to that,” he said, staring into the crowd.
“You didn’t see the look in her eyes,” James replied. “She never looked at me that way
before. I know her. If her mind is made up, I’ll never be able change it. Never!” Panic
threatened again. His eyes darted, fixing on nothing.
David wanted to take his hand. It looked like James was about to snap. “She needs
time. They both do. Give her time to think it through.”
“It was stupid. I know it was my idea, but we never should’ve told them.”
David watched him a moment longer, worried. “Listen James, don’t blame yourself for
that, too. We made the decision together. You need to calm down and get a grip.”
James nodded, his jaw tight, his eyes filled with angst.
Despite his own doubts, David tried reassurance. “I know it looks bad, but they’ll get
past this. Our marriages are on solid foundations. After they get past the initial shock,
we’ll get a chance to talk to them. You’ll see. Eventually they’ll understand.”
“Wish I could believe that ... God I wish I could. I don’t know what to do.” He picked up
David’s glass and took a sip of water. “I’m taking some time off. At least two weeks. I
went by the office and set up a leave-of-absence. There’s no way I can work.”
They sat in silence for a while. James looked at David, finally a bit calmer. “Do you
regret our summer?”
David’s eyes lifted from the table. “No. I regret being in this position. I can’t regret
loving you. We just can’t have it both ways.” He reached up and rubbed his temple.
“We lose no matter what happens. I want her back, but I can’t face losing you.”
He looked at James’s forearm resting on the table. That alone, despite the dire
circumstances, was distracting. A white knit pullover shirt revealed the contours of his
upper body. David realized all over again just how compelling his physical attraction
could be. Even now, with his entire life falling apart, he felt tormented being so close.
That he could not take James into his arms, comfort him, be comforted by him, was
growing more difficult by the minute.
James had shredded the napkin. “I’m going to lose both of you. I can feel it. David, I'm
scared.” His panic had taken another grip. “If I could lie down and go to sleep and
never wake up, I would.”
“James, don’t say things like that. I’m serious.”
“That look in her eyes. I can’t see anything positive coming out of this. It’s driving me
crazy.”
The waiter approached, harried by the throng of revelers.
“Coffee and cream,” James said, not looking up.
David glanced at the waiter. “Amber Bock.” The waiter rushed away with-out jotting it
down. “Think coffee will be good for your nerves?”
“All I wanted was a chance to talk. Tell her it had nothing to do with her or our
marriage. I wanted her to see it isn’t the same as infidelity, get her to understand my
sexuality is no reflection on how happy we are together. She didn’t try. She just
wanted me out.” James looked at David as if he were begging for an answer, but no
answer came, not when James’s agony simply reflected David’s own misgivings for
their future. James continued, his voice distant, as if he were reliving it again in his
mind. “She despises me. Said I’m an irresponsible father. She acted like she doesn’t
even know me.”
“They don’t know us, James. That’s the problem. We have to convince them our
sexuality doesn’t change who we are.”
The waiter returned with their drinks. James waited until David paid the tab. The
waiter then hurried away.
“That’s just it. She didn’t give me a chance. I wanted her to understand I’m the same
man she’s been married to all these years.”
“Give her time,” said David, taking a long swallow of his beer. He wiped his lips and
glanced at his watch. “I’ve been here three hours. Wonder if they’ve talked to each
other yet.”
James thought for a moment. “If they haven’t, it won’t be long. They’ll look to each
other for moral support. They’ll probably even use the same lawyer.”
“Don’t say that. Let’s not think about lawyers.”
James looked down at the coffee. “I can’t drink this. Why’d I order it?”
“Want to go up to the room? Maybe take a warm bath?”
“I’m tired. Think I could use a nap.”
David took a last drink of his beer and they got up and walked to the elevators. On the
way up James thought about the prospect of living in a hotel. He remembered an offer
a client had made a few months earlier.
“Looks like we need a place to stay, at least for a while.”
“You have something in mind?”
“A client’s place. A condo at the Garden Terrace on McKinney. Twentieth floor. He
keeps it for out of town customers. Said I could use it if I ever wanted to. Sound better
than a hotel?”
The suggestion felt like another stab of reality. David was overwhelmed by a sense of
loss. “I don’t know. Staying together would make matters worse.”
“I don’t want to be out here alone. No matter what happens, they both have to accept
our feelings for each other ... even if they take us back, even if you and I can’t be
together afterward. I’m not ashamed of loving you, that won’t change. That’s
something Shasha has to know.”
“We’re fucked!”
“It’s just that I’d like us to be together.”
“Let me think about the condo. Maybe they’ll ask us to come back home before it
comes to that.”
When the elevator door closed, James leaned wearily against the wall. “I wonder if the
others told their wives yet.”
“By now they have,” said David. “They have our cell numbers. We’ll hear from them
sooner or later. That condo large enough for two or three more?”
“They won’t need it. Their women aren’t as high-strung as ours are.”
“Except Sally. She could be digging a hole in the back yard right now. I can picture
poor Jake laid out on the kitchen floor with a rolling pin stuck in his skull.”
James shook his head. “Are you tired, too?”
“Exhausted.” David glanced up and saw the number eight blink on when the upward
motion stopped.
The elevator door swooshed closed when they started toward the room. David went
into the bathroom to brush his teeth. James stripped to his underwear and pulled back
the bedding. Resting against the headboard, he watched David come out and take off
his clothes, then lifted his arm so that David could lay close. Holding him had a
calming effect.
David rested his head on James’s chest. “I knew this would be hard.”
“What?”
“Us coming up here together. Bet you know what I’d like to do right now.”
“Suppose I do.”
“Guess we ought to play it straight if we wanna stay married.”
James tilted his head to look at his lover’s sandy hair. “So lying in bed like this in our
underwear is playing it straight?”
David felt relieved James had calmed down; glad he was beginning to sound like
himself. “Compared to what I’d rather be doing, it is.”
He draped his leg over James’s lower body. A black hand rested on a white shoulder.
Within the quiet of the soundproof room, they relaxed in silence, engulfed in the warmth
of their embrace while pondering their fate. Their eyelids grew heavy as sleep offered
the smile of unconscious peace. Cool vented air fell over their skin and their eyes
closed and they drifted away, leaving their concerns for another time.
eighth floor window. He had driven directly to the hotel with his packed bag. There had
been only one other time in his life he remembered being this despondent—the day his
son was born. The future looked uncertain then. Too young to be taking on the
responsibilities of fatherhood, he was barely making enough money to cover the rent.
On the road, working in sales for a light fixture company, he got the call late at night in
an Abilene motel room. Linda had delivered two weeks early. It was all he could do to
muster the wherewithal to get in the car and drive back to Dallas.
He felt worse than that now.
I’m gonna lose her.
Of course she would be angry, even hostile; but he thought they would end up talking it
out. Didn’t she know he would have never been involved in something like that without
a compelling reason? For that matter, didn’t she know James? Didn’t she know
neither of them would intentionally hurt their wives? He felt both angry and confused
that she labeled him as queer, that she heaped his relationship with James on the
same dunghill known as infidelity. How could he make her see what it’s like being hard-
wired with that longing in one’s hands, that breathless feeling in the wake of a dream,
that undeniable instinct inherent in so many men? Alone and feeling worthless, self-pity
heightened his guilt. He had fallen into a stupor, a self-feeding circle of conflict and
regret.
He could never regret loving James. Not emotionally or physically. And though
seeking out the others may have compounded the problem, considering the
uncommon friendship that had evolved, he couldn’t regret that either. There was but
one true regret—the unthinkable price. In the end, surrendering to such treasure meant
sacrificing a future with the only woman he ever loved.
The cell phone rang. He lifted it wearily to his ear. He knew it would not be Linda.
“Hello.”
“Are you home?” It was James’s voice.
“I’m in a room at the Anatole.”
“I was afraid to call. Been sitting in a vacant parking lot for over an hour.”
“Evidently it didn’t go well for you either,” said David.
“No. Can I join you?”
“I’ll go down and wait for you in the atrium.”
David heard a click and his body stirred for the first time since he sat down. He looked
around at the sterile walls and then came to his feet.
Thirty minutes later James approached and took a seat at his table in the atrium bar.
The camaraderie of dozens of conventioneers drowned the possibility of anyone
overhearing their conversation.
James was fidgeting with a napkin. “Did you think we’d get kicked out?”
“Don’t know what I thought.”
“It was a mistake. We shouldn’t have told them.”
“So it seems. It’s like I had the breath kicked out of me, like this can’t really be
happening. Not after twenty years and all we’ve been through together.”
“I’m scared, David. Nothing like this has ever happened to me. Walking out of the
house was like falling off a bridge. That’s what it felt like. I caught myself on the car to
keep from collapsing.” James looked away. The chaos in his mind displaced rational
thought. He closed his eyes and bit his lower lip. Panic had been coming in random,
consuming waves, as it was now. He looked skyward, his eyes stressed, scanning the
floor upon floor of landings that spanned the open space above their heads. Oblivious
to the commotion around them, his chest heaved with deep breaths, which seemed to
eventually have a calming effect. His eyes shifted to David. “I’m having real trouble
with this. Her reaction was predictable. I knew she’d explode. When it happened I
wasn’t prepared. The way she looked at me. The tone of her voice. I couldn’t
breathe. I’m scared I’ll hear from her lawyer tomorrow.”
David looked away. It was difficult seeing the man he loved this way. He stared
across the open bar, through a throng of revelers from places unknown, most of whom
had already had one or two drinks too many and were becoming people they could
never be back home. He saw animated lips pressed to cell phones and laughter and
boisterous conversation. It all fell on his ears like a cacophony of dull noise. He
subconsciously shared James’s fear. The thought of a lawyer coming between him
and his wife made his skin crawl.
“It won’t come to that,” he said, staring into the crowd.
“You didn’t see the look in her eyes,” James replied. “She never looked at me that way
before. I know her. If her mind is made up, I’ll never be able change it. Never!” Panic
threatened again. His eyes darted, fixing on nothing.
David wanted to take his hand. It looked like James was about to snap. “She needs
time. They both do. Give her time to think it through.”
“It was stupid. I know it was my idea, but we never should’ve told them.”
David watched him a moment longer, worried. “Listen James, don’t blame yourself for
that, too. We made the decision together. You need to calm down and get a grip.”
James nodded, his jaw tight, his eyes filled with angst.
Despite his own doubts, David tried reassurance. “I know it looks bad, but they’ll get
past this. Our marriages are on solid foundations. After they get past the initial shock,
we’ll get a chance to talk to them. You’ll see. Eventually they’ll understand.”
“Wish I could believe that ... God I wish I could. I don’t know what to do.” He picked up
David’s glass and took a sip of water. “I’m taking some time off. At least two weeks. I
went by the office and set up a leave-of-absence. There’s no way I can work.”
They sat in silence for a while. James looked at David, finally a bit calmer. “Do you
regret our summer?”
David’s eyes lifted from the table. “No. I regret being in this position. I can’t regret
loving you. We just can’t have it both ways.” He reached up and rubbed his temple.
“We lose no matter what happens. I want her back, but I can’t face losing you.”
He looked at James’s forearm resting on the table. That alone, despite the dire
circumstances, was distracting. A white knit pullover shirt revealed the contours of his
upper body. David realized all over again just how compelling his physical attraction
could be. Even now, with his entire life falling apart, he felt tormented being so close.
That he could not take James into his arms, comfort him, be comforted by him, was
growing more difficult by the minute.
James had shredded the napkin. “I’m going to lose both of you. I can feel it. David, I'm
scared.” His panic had taken another grip. “If I could lie down and go to sleep and
never wake up, I would.”
“James, don’t say things like that. I’m serious.”
“That look in her eyes. I can’t see anything positive coming out of this. It’s driving me
crazy.”
The waiter approached, harried by the throng of revelers.
“Coffee and cream,” James said, not looking up.
David glanced at the waiter. “Amber Bock.” The waiter rushed away with-out jotting it
down. “Think coffee will be good for your nerves?”
“All I wanted was a chance to talk. Tell her it had nothing to do with her or our
marriage. I wanted her to see it isn’t the same as infidelity, get her to understand my
sexuality is no reflection on how happy we are together. She didn’t try. She just
wanted me out.” James looked at David as if he were begging for an answer, but no
answer came, not when James’s agony simply reflected David’s own misgivings for
their future. James continued, his voice distant, as if he were reliving it again in his
mind. “She despises me. Said I’m an irresponsible father. She acted like she doesn’t
even know me.”
“They don’t know us, James. That’s the problem. We have to convince them our
sexuality doesn’t change who we are.”
The waiter returned with their drinks. James waited until David paid the tab. The
waiter then hurried away.
“That’s just it. She didn’t give me a chance. I wanted her to understand I’m the same
man she’s been married to all these years.”
“Give her time,” said David, taking a long swallow of his beer. He wiped his lips and
glanced at his watch. “I’ve been here three hours. Wonder if they’ve talked to each
other yet.”
James thought for a moment. “If they haven’t, it won’t be long. They’ll look to each
other for moral support. They’ll probably even use the same lawyer.”
“Don’t say that. Let’s not think about lawyers.”
James looked down at the coffee. “I can’t drink this. Why’d I order it?”
“Want to go up to the room? Maybe take a warm bath?”
“I’m tired. Think I could use a nap.”
David took a last drink of his beer and they got up and walked to the elevators. On the
way up James thought about the prospect of living in a hotel. He remembered an offer
a client had made a few months earlier.
“Looks like we need a place to stay, at least for a while.”
“You have something in mind?”
“A client’s place. A condo at the Garden Terrace on McKinney. Twentieth floor. He
keeps it for out of town customers. Said I could use it if I ever wanted to. Sound better
than a hotel?”
The suggestion felt like another stab of reality. David was overwhelmed by a sense of
loss. “I don’t know. Staying together would make matters worse.”
“I don’t want to be out here alone. No matter what happens, they both have to accept
our feelings for each other ... even if they take us back, even if you and I can’t be
together afterward. I’m not ashamed of loving you, that won’t change. That’s
something Shasha has to know.”
“We’re fucked!”
“It’s just that I’d like us to be together.”
“Let me think about the condo. Maybe they’ll ask us to come back home before it
comes to that.”
When the elevator door closed, James leaned wearily against the wall. “I wonder if the
others told their wives yet.”
“By now they have,” said David. “They have our cell numbers. We’ll hear from them
sooner or later. That condo large enough for two or three more?”
“They won’t need it. Their women aren’t as high-strung as ours are.”
“Except Sally. She could be digging a hole in the back yard right now. I can picture
poor Jake laid out on the kitchen floor with a rolling pin stuck in his skull.”
James shook his head. “Are you tired, too?”
“Exhausted.” David glanced up and saw the number eight blink on when the upward
motion stopped.
The elevator door swooshed closed when they started toward the room. David went
into the bathroom to brush his teeth. James stripped to his underwear and pulled back
the bedding. Resting against the headboard, he watched David come out and take off
his clothes, then lifted his arm so that David could lay close. Holding him had a
calming effect.
David rested his head on James’s chest. “I knew this would be hard.”
“What?”
“Us coming up here together. Bet you know what I’d like to do right now.”
“Suppose I do.”
“Guess we ought to play it straight if we wanna stay married.”
James tilted his head to look at his lover’s sandy hair. “So lying in bed like this in our
underwear is playing it straight?”
David felt relieved James had calmed down; glad he was beginning to sound like
himself. “Compared to what I’d rather be doing, it is.”
He draped his leg over James’s lower body. A black hand rested on a white shoulder.
Within the quiet of the soundproof room, they relaxed in silence, engulfed in the warmth
of their embrace while pondering their fate. Their eyelids grew heavy as sleep offered
the smile of unconscious peace. Cool vented air fell over their skin and their eyes
closed and they drifted away, leaving their concerns for another time.