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Reunited

Page 2

by Andrew Grey


  “How about you, Sally?” Clay asked.

  She smiled. “I’ll spare you the phone full of pictures. I have a husband, two sons, and a daughter. John is taking them out for some ‘Daddy time’ tonight. He’s a pharmacist at a hospital and works nights a lot of the time. It’s hard for him to spend time with them because of his weird schedule, and they had made plans before the reunion was scheduled. So I came alone.” Her phone chimed at that moment, and she smiled at the message, typed quickly, and then set it aside. “How about you, Kevin? A cute guy waiting for you at home?” She nudged my shoulder and seemed to notice my plate for the first time. “Are you vegetarian?”

  “Yeah. I cut meat out of my diet five years ago. I do eat fish sometimes. And I eat chicken when I find myself in dire circumstances, but I have it so rarely that my body doesn’t quite know how to deal with it.” It was easier to talk about my diet than my love life, but Sally was like a dog with a bone, always had been, and I knew she wasn’t going to let me off the hook, so I charged ahead. “And no, I don’t have a husband or a boyfriend right now.”

  “Why not?” Sally openly leered. “You’re hot.” She turned to Clay. “He is, isn’t he?”

  Clay blushed and turned away. “Yeah, he is.”

  And just like that, my world shifted as teenage angsty hope sprang to life.

  “Well, thanks,” I said a little nervously. “I was with a guy from Grand Rapids for five years. My business was expanding, and for a while, he traveled some with me, but he had a regular job and ended up staying home a lot.”

  Sally rolled her eyes. “Let me guess—you came home and found him in bed with someone.”

  “Not exactly. It was nearing Christmas, and I had a movie I was consulting on. Filming went better than expected, and I left a week early so we’d have a longer break.” Thank goodness it had been a while ago so I had some distance. “Anyway, when I pulled up to the house, the lights were on and there were cars packing the drive. I thought he was having some friends over and it would be a surprise for all of them.” I swallowed. “It was. They were all around the indoor pool, having a Santa party.”

  Both of them looked confused. “They all dressed up as Santa?” Sally asked.

  I shook my head. “Sort of. Everyone wore a Santa hat… and nothing else, except a hard-on and a smile. It was a Merry Christmas orgy, and apparently my ex held these on a regular basis while I was gone.” I shrugged. “That was two years ago.”

  “I hope you kicked him to the curb and let him freeze his Christmas balls off.”

  I snorted. Sally definitely had a way with words.

  “You better believe it. I’m just happy I never actually married him, or I’d be stuck with the loser in my life forever. He tried to sue me, but that went nowhere, especially after everything came out.” I closed my eyes for a second. Coming home, seeing that, was the closest I ever came to completely losing it. I had wanted to hurt someone. Especially him, and I could have done it too. Only my own training and years of discipline kept me from doing something I’d have regretted.

  “You’re officially alone, then?” Clay asked, taking a bite of chicken. “I mean, single?”

  “Yeah, and I’ll probably stay that way. My travel is a lot for anyone to take.” And I had major trust issues now. “Besides, I’m busy and I love what I do. It’s fulfilling in a very different way.”

  “Yeah?” Clay asked.

  I picked at my food, eating a bite of salad as I tried to put my thoughts into words. “I work with a lot of people. I can tell you this story because Carrie gave me permission. She’s one of my students. She came to me after she was beaten pretty badly by her boyfriend.” I smiled. “She told me she wanted to be able to take care of herself if he ever tried that again.”

  “That isn’t what karate is, is it?” Clay asked, leaning forward as he ate.

  “No. It’s about using your body and mind to their greatest potential. Of course, I explained that to her and started instructing her in the martial arts. As she progressed, she grew more confident and her spirit blossomed. She didn’t need to worry about her now ex-boyfriend anymore because she had confidence in herself. Carrie left her boyfriend, continued her instruction, and is now very successful, happy, and getting married in three months to one of my other students. In a small way, I helped her reach her potential and find some peace in her life. That in itself is rewarding.” I turned my attention to my plate, eating slowly.

  “True,” Clay agreed. “But it doesn’t keep you company, or help fill those long, cold nights.” He sounded like a lonely person.

  “Eventually I’ll settle down again, once I find the right guy. I’m not going to rush into anything.”

  Sally bumped my arm. “I bet there are tons of guys vying for your attention.”

  I shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t spend all my time on the hunt or anything.” I finished my dinner and leaned back slightly in the chair, getting comfortable.

  The dessert, a huge cake decorated with the school colors and congratulating our class on all its accomplishments, was paraded around the room. One of the caterers cut it, and pieces were passed out. I declined and stood to get some more drinks.

  Of course, I ended up in the bar line right in front of Neanderthal Pat, who weaved a little on his feet. I wondered just how much he’d already had to drink.

  “You never know who will show up at these things,” he said a little too loudly, talking to the people around him, who all seemed to be doing their best to ignore the blowhard. There was one in every group—a Mr. Pighead who thought his narrow-minded views should be expressed at top volume, because in his mind, naturally, everyone agreed with him.

  I reached the front of the line, got drinks for the table, and stepped away, relieved to be out of the situation.

  “What do you mean I can’t have a drink?” Pat boomed at the top of his lungs.

  “You’ve had enough, sir,” the young bartender said, standing his ground. “I’m sorry, but I’m not allowed to serve you if you appear visibly intoxicated.”

  I went back to the table and set down the glasses.

  Pat’s voice rattled through the room again as he reached over the bar to grab the kid’s collar.

  “Excuse me,” I told the others, and returned to the bar. “You don’t want to do that,” I said calmly to Pat as he started shaking the bartender.

  “All I want is a drink,” Pat growled.

  “Hey, man, that isn’t cool,” Doug said, trying to reason with him, but Pat was having none of it. “Let him go and have a cup of coffee or something.”

  Pat released the bartender and turned his attention squarely on me. “It’s all his fault. The fag!” He snarled and then took a shaky step toward me. I didn’t tense, but I was ready. “Look at him. He used to be scared of me.” He turned to Doug. “Remember how the dweebs like him used to be scared of us? Now look, they walk around like they own the place, and we….” His speech suddenly cleared. “We had everything going for us, man.” Pat stepped away from the bar, half leaning on Doug. “We were going to be football stars and rule the NFL, remember?”

  Doug shrugged and sent an “I’m sorry” with his eyes as he tried to calm Pat down. “I remember those dreams, yeah. Those days were a long time ago.”

  Pat stiffened and shrugged out of Doug’s hold. “Not for me. Those were the best days of my life. We were going….” Pat continued on as I felt Clay come up behind me.

  “You okay?” Clay asked, his hand resting gently on my shoulder, comforting, warm. My entire attention centered on that touch and nothing else.

  “Yeah. He’s way too drunk and needs to be taken somewhere he can sleep it off.” I checked my watch: eight thirty.

  “I’ll do what I can,” Doug promised as he did his best to lead Pat out of the room, with Pat continuing to spout his ignorance the entire way.

  Clay lifted his hand, and I started back toward the table. “I can’t believe he used to be my best friend. We used to want a lot of the s
ame things and had the same dreams… you know?”

  “People change, and as I keep reminding myself, this isn’t high school any longer.” I pasted on a smile to try to defuse the situation. I’d got tired long ago of being maligned for something I’d come to accept as part of me. “Most of us grow up and figure things out for ourselves.”

  Just as I was about to reach the table, Clay tapped my shoulder, and I glanced over at him. “I’ve figured out a lot of things since then.” He took a step closer, and his scent tickled my nose and the temperature in the air-conditioned room rose quickly. “I also know who I am. I didn’t in school, but….” He swallowed, and I watched his throat work, wanting to lick a line down it to that small divot at the top of his chest. “But I do now.”

  I wondered what I was supposed to do with that information. “That’s good.” I was growing a little uncomfortable just because I had no idea what he was getting at.

  “And I want my son to understand that he can be his own person.”

  “Son? You didn’t mention him earlier.” I loved kids and adored teaching them. They were so enthusiastic and uninhibited. Most of them soaked up instruction like a sponge and tried their best. They helped me feel young.

  “It’s a mess that I didn’t want to bring up. After she left New York, Bridget found out she was pregnant and tried to keep it from me. When I learned about it, I exercised my parental rights and found out how she was behaving. It wasn’t good. She always liked her wine and saw no reason to change, even when she was pregnant. So I filed to exert my rights before he was born. Once it was determined that he was blind, I filed for full custody, and miracle of miracles, I was awarded it.” Clay sighed and smiled slightly. “It’s been a back-and-forth for years now because she cleans up for a while and wants to be a mother. Once she remarried, she decided she had enough money to try again.” Clay seemed drained just talking about the whole thing.

  “Can she do that?” I looked across the room to where Bridget stood, staring back at us. I did my best not to scowl.

  “She’s trying. But I don’t think it’s going to work. Santo needs a stable home with a familiar environment, and they travel a lot. Also, he’s started school and is settled in his life. Unless I’m abusive or mistreating him, the courts aren’t going to remove him now. But I still have to make an appearance… and go through all this.” He paused.

  “Hmmm…,” I said softly. “I have some really good lawyers, and one of the firms has a top-notch family law practice. I can put you in touch if you want me to.” It was my turn to clap him on the shoulder. Clay smiled again, and I imagined I could see the wheels turning. “Where is he tonight?”

  “With my mom. She adores him. When I dropped him off, he had a bag of books he wanted Gramma to read to him. That’s his favorite thing in the world.” Clay lit up when he talked about his son. “Honestly, having Santo has been the best part of my life. And while it would be so easy for me to hate her, I don’t. I really wish her well in her life. At heart she’s a good person, and I know she loves Santo as well.”

  Clay was a much more forgiving person than I was.

  “Let’s join the others.” I motioned, and we sat back down as the music started. Couples headed to the area in front of the tables to dance. “Do you have pictures?” I asked of both Sally and Clay, and spent the next fifteen minutes looking at their children.

  “I’m going to call home and then get a refill. Either of you want anything? A Coke or some juice?” Sally offered, and we took her up on it.

  Once she left, I found myself alone at the table with Clay and had no idea what more to ask. The big questions hung in my mind, but I wasn’t going to ask them. That would be damned rude and, if I was reading things wrong, completely embarrassing.

  Clay stood, and I expected him to wander off in search of people to talk with, but he held out his hand. “Would you like to dance?”

  My mouth went dry. I ran his words through my head just to make sure I had heard him properly. This was Clay, my high school crush, the one guy I had never been able to get out of my head, no matter what I did. The guy I used to fantasize about late at night was asking me to dance, and his eyes held only the same nervousness that fluttered in my belly. This had to be a dream, except Clay stood right here.

  I pushed back my chair, still nervous, and took his offered hand.

  Chapter 3

  THE LIGHTS in the room seemed to dim, and my feet grew heavier with each step.

  “Do you know how to dance?” Clay asked as we approached the floor.

  “You probably should have asked that first,” I said with a smirk. I had to tease him a little. “Yes. I’m a good dancer.” I twitched my arm, drew Clay closer, took his hand, and wound my arm around his waist. Then I stepped right into the beat, bringing him along with me.

  “I kinda thought I’d lead,” Clay said, stepping back awkwardly. He was smooth enough to go with it, though, and I liked that I’d surprised him. “But you’re good. Did you take lessons?”

  “Sally taught me a long time ago. I had this crush on a guy in school.” I grinned and wriggled my eyebrows. “He could dance, and I wanted to be able to move just like him. Not that it really mattered, since he barely noticed me.” Not that anyone did back then.

  “I noticed you,” Clay whispered as we moved, and he pulled me a little closer. I stumbled for a second as Clay took control of the dance. “I was stupid back then. I knew I was gay, but I wasn’t going to burst out of the closet the way you did. So I stayed quiet and away from you in case anyone figured shit out about me.”

  “Oh,” I said, which was probably the dumbest thing I could say. I tried again. “I, um, thank you for telling me. And I don’t blame you for wanting to hide back then.”

  The music grew a little louder, and I stopped talking and relaxed. Clay drew me closer, the distance between us disappearing as the music slowed, and his hands slid around my back. I sighed, letting go of tension and allowing myself to be happy in the moment. This was the last thing I’d expected to happen this evening.

  “What are you thinking about?” Clay whispered.

  “How much I’d have given for this to have happened when we were in school.” I held him tight, figuring that for as long as my little fantasy-come-true lasted, I’d go with it.

  “What would you have done if I had asked you to dance back then?” Clay asked, his lips close to my ear.

  “I’d probably have giggled like an idiot and turned eight shades of red,” I admitted. “Thank God I’m older now.” Though the giggles were starting to form in my gut, and only self-control kept me from being an idiot.

  Clay pulled slightly away to look at my face. “You aren’t blushing, so that’s good.” He stroked lightly down my back, his hands coming to rest just above my waist. I glanced at the others nearby just to make sure we weren’t creating a spectacle. No one seemed to notice or care that we were dancing together. Except maybe Bridget, who glared for a second until I met her gaze. Then she turned away. “What else?”

  “Well, I used to see us dressed up, and you’d take me in your arms, just like this, and then we’d sway back and forth.” I went with him and the music, moving slowly. The evening was magical, and I’d stay with him for as long as it lasted. “You’d squeeze me close, and then I’d put my head on your shoulder.” I did exactly that, trying not to think too hard or too long about what was actually happening. It was one night, one evening, a chance to reconnect with old friends, but then tomorrow everything would return to normal.

  “Was there anything else you imagined?” Clay asked, and I lifted my head a little. Clay’s lips were so close and his eyes beckoned me.

  “Ummm-hmmm,” I hummed softly as Clay drew a little closer.

  “No fucking way!” Pat’s voice broke through the room like nails on a chalkboard. “Now he’s corrupted Clay.” Heavy footsteps boomed across the floor as Pat half barreled through the couples. A few people cried out as their dates kept them from falling.

>   “Enough, Pat,” Clay growled as he stepped back, the music growing silent, all eyes on the three of us.

  “What the hell, Clay? You were the quarterback… a man’s man… and now this? What the hell is wrong with you?” Little bits of spittle shot out of Pat’s mouth, and Clay stepped back to get out of the line of fire.

  “I’m gay. So what? I can’t change who I am any more than you can alter the fact that you’re as dumb as a box of rocks and twice as thickheaded. This isn’t high school anymore, and you need to grow up. The rest of us have.” Clay took a step closer to Pat, puffing up his chest. “It’s time for you to go home and sleep it off.”

  “A cab is on its way,” one of the guys said. I wasn’t sure who, but it didn’t matter. What we needed to do was get Pat out of here.

  Doug came forward and once again tried to muscle Pat out of the room.

  “No. This isn’t right.” Pat yanked himself away, stumbling on unsteady legs straight toward Clay. Well, I thought it was Clay he was after at first, but he shifted and came at me. “You did this. You changed him.”

  “In an evening? It takes at least three pink drinks and an episode of RuPaul’s Drag Race before you turn gay.” I kept a straight face even as Clay turned away. Pat actually stared at me, his addled brain trying to process what I’d said. “Go on with Doug and get some sleep. Everything will seem better in the morning.”

  Pat stood still, his eyes glassy for a few seconds, and I thought he was either going to do as I suggested or topple over like a house of cards. He did neither, weaving back and forth on unsteady legs. “I ought to teach you a lesson about what happens when you mess with good people.”

  “You don’t want to do that,” Clay said. “Just go home.”

  “Come on. Let’s go.” Doug tried again to get Pat to move. Instead he lumbered closer.

  “That’s enough, Pat. Go home. You’re drunk and it’s time to go.” I taught my students that even though we train and work out, fighting is the last resort, always. I also taught them that in a situation where they have to defend themselves, they should use the least force possible. Still, even with my experience, it was hard not to react when faced with a drunk two-hundred-fifty-pound man with harmful intent darkening his eyes.

 

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