The Player

by Joe Cosentino

  “You didn’t believe the detective?”

  Freddy shrugged. “With a number of people disapproving of Billy’s life, I always wondered.”

  Relating Freddy’s story to the Welcome Bed and Breakfast, I cuddled next to him anxiously. “Do you think someone will try to hurt Nelson or Sergio?”

  “I adore your concern for others—especially for me!” He stroked my hair. “You’re the eel’s hips, Andre.”

  I replied, “You’re the cat’s meow too, Freddy.”

  After another kiss, he asked me, “Who are the other members of the dramatis personae?”

  I replied, “A painter from New York City, Zian Raye, is in room two. And yes, Freddy, he’s a cake-eater. Zian tried unsuccessfully to get personal with Gabriel Bennett in room five next door.”

  “Doesn’t Gabriel fancy Zian?”

  “He does, but Gabriel isn’t ready for a relationship.”

  “Why not?”

  I empathized with my new friend. “Gabriel was adopted. His oldest brother bullied him really badly.”

  “Bronx cheer! What’s the poor boy doing here?”

  “Gabriel is an architect studying the Art Deco period. He really likes your house.”

  “Then I really like Gabriel.” He winked at me. “But I like you more.”

  I kissed his cheek. “Gabriel seems to be working out his issues, but he continues to have flashbacks from his youth, resulting in sleepwalking.”

  “Gabriel will be all right—with you looking after him.” He put his arm around me.

  My stomach growled.

  “Dear boy, it appears to be time for your dinner.”

  “You don’t mind being alone for a while?”

  “I’ll continue to get reacquainted with my old room.”

  “I’ll be back soon.”

  “I’m counting on it.”

  After we shared a quick kiss, I washed up in the bathroom, waved to Freddy, and then headed out of the room.

  The house seemed oddly quiet, as if in the calm before a storm. I descended the two long staircases and walked down Main Street. The sun was low in the sky, illuminating my way like a yellow brick road. I stopped at a gourmet pizzeria and ordered a whole wheat pizza round for one with an apple ginger smoothie. After eating at the counter, I headed back while drinking the smoothie.

  At the B and B, I entered the living room and stepped out onto the terrace. I sat on a white wicker sofa, enjoying the cool breeze and delightful view.

  Hearing voices behind me, I peeked over the tall back of the sofa.

  Cynthia Butler Russell and Gabriel walked from the dining room into the living room. She said, “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.”

  “I understand.” Gabriel mounted the stairs.

  Then Cynthia called out, “Nelson!”

  Nelson appeared from the Russells’ private quarters. Cynthia joined him behind the counter, placing a manicured hand on her son’s thick forearm. “Are you going out again tonight?”

  Nelson didn’t make eye contact with his mother. “Yes.”

  “Where?”

  “For a row.”

  “It will be dark soon. Don’t you think you should stay inside?”

  “Actually, I don’t.”

  “I do.”

  He pulled away. “Mom, I’m twenty-two.”

  “Which is old enough to know the dangers of rowing in the river after sunset.”

  Nelson ran a strong hand through his thick dark locks. “I’m meeting someone.”

  “Who?”

  “You know who.”

  She placed a hand on her hip. “Sergio Santino is a guest here.”

  “And he’s my friend.”

  She frowned. “I thought you left all that behind in New York City.”

  He turned to face her. “Why can’t I go out with Sergio?”

  Cynthia’s eyes darted right and left. “Let’s not talk about this here.”

  “Why not? There are no guests around right now.”

  “Nelson—”

  “Come on, Mom, you obviously have something to say. So say it.”

  “All right.” She stood, feet apart. “Besides Sergio’s past, have you forgotten about the pledge you made to the Lord when you were ten years old?”

  “I promised to love the Lord, help others, and to be honest. And that’s what I’m doing.”

  “Homosexuality is an abomination in God’s sight.”

  Nelson laughed ironically. “Really? You’re throwing Leviticus in my face?”

  “I didn’t write the Bible, Nelson.”

  “No, it was written and rewritten thousands of years ago in other languages by people who never knew Jesus—who by the way was never quoted as saying a word against gay people.”

  She rammed her index finger into his wide chest. “You can’t change the word of God to fit your own desires.”

  “Okay, Mom. If we’re living by Leviticus, you need to be stoned to death for wearing your jewelry and makeup, eating shellfish, wearing clothes made from more than one fabric, and, not to mention, marrying twice!”

  She slapped his face, and he held his cheek in shock.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Nelson, I’ve made some terrible mistakes in my life—including when I was young. I don’t want you to do the same.”

  His eyes were full of anger. “You bullied Aunt Sherry, Dad, and me my whole life. Don’t you think it’s time to let it go, Mom?”

  She gasped but quickly recovered. “You call it bullying. I call it love.”

  “Then how come I always felt so unloved?”

  “I devoted my life to you.”

  He blinked back tears. “Mom, haven’t you had enough pretending? I have.”

  “What do you want to do? March in a parade with that boy and his mother? Announce your lifestyle to the world?”

  “It’s not a lifestyle, Mom. It’s my life. And being with Sergio makes me happy.”

  She glared at him. “You wanted to leave New York City!”

  “No, you wanted me to move back here away from Sergio. Just like you wanted me to become an engineer.”

  “Did you become a homosexual for me too?”

  “I’ve always been gay, Mom, and you know it.”

  “What about the girls you dated at the church?”

  “It was make-believe. I’m good at that. I learned it from you.”

  She paced. “This is your father’s fault.”

  “How?”

  “You know how.”

  “Are you still harping on conversion therapy camp?”

  “If your father had listened to me and sent you there, this wouldn’t have happened?”

  Nelson followed her. “Right. I would have been tortured, abused, and beaten. Is that what you wanted for me?”

  “Well I definitely didn’t want this for you.”

  He rested his head in his hands. “Mom, I don’t know why God made me this way, but he did. Nobody knows more than you how hard I tried to change.”

  “You didn’t try hard enough.”

  “No, you didn’t try hard enough to love me as I am.”

  She turned away from him. “Unlike your father, I can’t love the sinner and hate the sin.”

  Tears filled his dark eyes. “Is that what you see when you look at me, Mom? A sinner?”

  “It depends. Are you going out with Sergio tonight?”

  Nelson gasped. After collecting himself, he said, “Growing up, I always wanted a brother. But now I’m glad to be an only child, so nobody else had to have you as a mother.” He started off.

  She blocked his path. “Funny, you wanted a brother, and I wanted a normal son.”

  “Looks like we have one thing in common, Mom. We’re both a colossal disappointment to each other.” He pushed past her, flung open the door into the Russell’s living quarters, and slammed it behind him.

  Renata Garcia Santino came down the staircase. “You should be ashamed of yo
urself.”

  Cynthia’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”

  “You shouldn’t judge your son.”

  “My son is none of your business.”

  “And my son is none of yours.”

  Cynthia started behind the counter. “I have work to do.”

  “From what I’ve heard, you’ve already done quite a bit.” Renata stood at the counter, ticking off on her fingers. “You pushed your son away, insulted my son, and made Cruella de Vil seem like a good mother—all while using your religion like a weapon of mass destruction.”

  Cynthia’s face hardened. “I recommend you concentrate on your vacation rather than my religious beliefs.”

  Renata wouldn’t let up. “When the priest at our church told me Sergio couldn’t be gay and a Catholic, I tried to make Father Andrew see reason. Unfortunately, all he could see was his altar boy. So Sergio and I moved on to an Open and Affirming liberal Protestant church, where we are cherished and accepted in God’s love.”

  “What does that have to do with me?”

  Renata replied, “Traditional religion has caused many wars over the centuries. It’s doing the same in your family.”

  Cynthia grimaced. “Careful, there are religious freedom laws against mocking someone’s religion.”

  Renata glared at her. “Is that what you want, Cynthia? Religious freedom laws giving bigots the power not to serve your son in a hospital emergency room because of who he loves?”

  Cynthia smirked. “And you think Nelson loves Sergio?”

  “I know he does. And so do you. So stop trying to separate them.”

  Cynthia leaned over the counter. “If you’d like to end your stay here early, I will be happy to refund the remaining charges.”

  Renata regrouped. “That won’t be necessary. Nelson and Sergio have some unfinished business.” She added with a sneer, “And so do we.”

  “After your ‘vacation’ here ends, don’t come back.” Cynthia exited into her private quarters.

  Renata shook her head. “Someday that woman will get hers.” Then she disappeared out the front door.

  I entered the sitting room and then climbed the long staircase, thinking Nelson Russell had Mommy Dearest as a mother. After arriving in the upstairs hallway, I paused, hearing voices from the bottom of the stairs. Standing in the shadows, I spotted Cynthia and her husband.

  Cynthia’s voice was strident. “Where are you going?”

  Jim froze at the first step. “I’m checking to see if the guests need anything.”

  She tsked. “A liar isn’t a good role model for our son.”

  “And torturing Nelson doesn’t make you mother of the year. Can I go now?”

  She placed a quivering hand on the white marble banister. “I thought we came back here to give this another try for Nelson.”

  “Nelson isn’t a child.”

  “Clearly.”

  “Meaning?”

  “You’ve been so busy… entertaining my sister, you haven’t noticed Nelson and Sergio Santino picking up where they had left off in New York City.”

  “I told Nelson I don’t want this for him.”

  “And why should he listen to a father committing a sin equally repugnant to the Lord?”

  He became enraged. “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone!”

  “I’ve prayed and repented. The Lord has forgiven me for my past sins. Can you say the same, Jim?”

  He leaned against the banister. “Sherry and I didn’t plan this. It just happened.”

  She nodded. “I remember. It started the night I was in bed with the flu. So much for ‘in sickness and in health.’”

  “Cynthia, haven’t we hurt each other enough? Haven’t we hurt our son enough? We’ve both struck out at two marriages. Let’s stop playing the game.”

  “What about your campaign for mayor? The Republicans want you to run on family values.”

  “I’ll run as someone divorced. It’s certainly been done before.”

  She grinned maniacally. “I wonder how the voters, and our church members and friends, will feel when they find out you’ve been having an affair with my sister—in our home.”

  As if on cue, Sherry Butler entered from the front door.

  Cynthia groaned. “Just in time, sis. We’re having a family powwow—about how you’re shacking up with my husband.”

  To my surprise, Sherry met her sister head-on. “I haven’t shacked up with him… yet. That was scheduled for—” She glanced at her watch. “—now.”

  Cynthia shook her head in disgust. “You’re flaunting your sin in my face?”

  “Just like you’ve been flaunting your arrogance and judgmentalism in my face for my entire life.”

  Cynthia cocked her head. “Is that what this is about? You trying to get back at me because I was smarter and more capable as a kid?”

  Jim came between them. “I stopped loving you years ago, Cynthia. Sherry had nothing to do with that.” He sighed. “In thinking about it, I’m not sure we ever were in love. Because you’re incapable of feeling any emotion other than envy and rage.”

  Zian Raye entered the house and interrupted them. He asked Cynthia, “Excuse me, may I speak with you about a private matter?”

  Cynthia snapped at him. “What is it?”

  “I’m going to my room.” Sherry headed for the stairs.

  Jim followed her.

  I hightailed it back to my room, where I found Freddy again sitting at the desk with a blank expression on his handsome face. I asked, “Were you reading more of your mother’s letters?”

  He closed the desk drawer and nodded.

  “How old are they?”

  “They were written before I was born.”

  “How fascinating! Was your father an incredible romantic?” I sat on the bed. “He must have really loved your mother.”

  “Yes, he did.”

  “I know your parents were taken from you far too soon, and I understand how much you must miss them.” I motioned for him to join me on the bed.

  Sitting next to me, he said, “My parents were amazing people.”

  “Just like their son. When your mother, your father, and your sister became ill, your mom must have left the letters in the cubby for you to find.”

  “Yes, I’m sure she did.” He glanced over at the desk. “It took me quite a long time to do so.”

  I suddenly realized. “Maybe you weren’t meant to find them until you fell in love yourself.”

  “You may be right.” We shared a kiss, and Freddy seemed more like his old self. “What’s going on in my house?”

  “Cynthia laid down the law to her son.”

  “About Nelson staying away from Sergio?”

  I nodded.

  “Is Cynthia a bluenose or a Holy Roller?” Freddy asked.

  “She’s a prude and an evangelical. Cynthia is on her second marriage and admitted to having made some big ‘mistakes’ in her past. Hypocrite anyone?”

  “How about her husband?”

  “Jim is on his second marriage too. Actually, he’s already over it.”

  Freddy gasped. “He wants a Declaration of Independence?”

  “In a big way. He said they were never in love.”

  “Then why did he let Cynthia muzzle him?”

  “Maybe he was impressed with her being a judge.” I kissed his cheek. “But now Jim is interested in Cynthia’s sister, Sherry, who seems to return his affections, which enrages Cynthia—who has threatened to spill the beans in Jim’s campaign for mayor.” I snickered. “Republican family values. And Cynthia wouldn’t even answer Gabriel’s question earlier. What kind of an innkeeper doesn’t answer a guest’s question about his trip? Instead, she argued with her family in the living room while her guests fended for themselves. Zian Raye asked if he could speak to her about a personal issue. She snapped at him.”

  Freddy’s eyes widened. “Hmm… what kind of personal business would Zian have with Cynthia?”

  “I don’
t know.” Another thought crept into my head. “Renata Garcia Santino told Cynthia she had some unfinished business with her. I got the sense it had nothing to do with their sons.” I yawned.

  Freddy smiled affectionately. “The trials and tribulations of those living in my home have exhausted you.”

  I felt my eyelids droop. “Seems like it’s time for bed.” I giggled. “Care to tuck me in?”

  “I care very much.”

  We stripped off our clothes. As usual, I admired Freddy’s elegantly long arms, torso, legs, and penis, delighting in his large hands and feet and creamy smooth skin. Taking in his sweet champagne scent, I made love with Freddy as the stars twinkled in the sky like a celestial canopy. Then I snuggled in Freddy’s strong arms and fell blissfully asleep.

  I was woken by the sound of my stomach growling. Glancing at the clock on the night table, I noticed it was three o’clock in the morning. Freddy was nowhere in sight. I assumed he was resting back in the pianola. Remembering what Nelson Russell had said about the full fruit bowl in the dining room, I dressed quickly, opened my door, and headed down the long staircase. When I arrived at the dining room’s buffet, I heard a scream. It sounded like a young man. Following the harrowing shriek, I knocked on the open door leading to the Russells’ private quarters. I heard someone sobbing, so I entered and walked into the office, where I found Gabriel in white flannel pajamas, holding a bloody letter opener. Cynthia Butler Russell was slumped over the desk with blood dripping from her neck.

  Gabriel hurried toward me with eyes ablaze. “She’s dead!”

  Chapter Four

  FIFTEEN MINUTES later, I sat on one of the chaises in the B and B’s living room. Minutes after I had phoned 911, a swarm of police officers had arrived, along with the coroner and EMT workers. The officers had placed yellow tape over the door to the Russells’ private quarters, bagged the bloody letter opener, and taken fingerprint, hair, and fiber samples from Gabriel and me. Then they carted Gabriel away and asked me to wait in the living room. A few minutes later, I watched the coroner and EMT workers carry Cynthia’s body out of the house on a stretcher.