The Good Neighbor: A Novel

by Jay Quinn

  “First of all, Rory told me he’d never cheated on Bruno, ever,” Austin replied heatedly.

  “And you believed him?” Meg asked incredulously. “Even if he wasn’t lying, do you have any idea how many people Will Griffin’s probably slept with? Even if your precious friend has been as faithful as he claims, his partner doesn’t strike me as being anything but a total whorehound. He’s flirted with me, for godssakes.”

  “We… I was careful,” Austin said miserably. “I used condoms…”

  “Well, that’s fucking great news,” Meg spat. “So you admit you did screw that man.”

  “Meg…”

  “And let’s look at your success rate with rubbers,” Meg continued acidly. “It’s not so stellar is it? You have a six-year-old son as living proof of how great condoms work for you.”

  Austin drew a breath as if he’d been slapped, and hung his head.

  “Have you had sex with me since you started exploring your bisexuality?” Meg demanded.

  Austin looked up furiously and spat, “You should know that as well as I do.”

  Meg’s arm flashed in the air, but before she slapped him, her entire body froze. Tiredly, she dropped her arm, turned, and made her way to the sofa, where she slumped and put her head in her hands.

  Austin stared at her, feeling the anger drain from his own body only to be replaced by a bitter fatigue.

  Without looking up, Meg said quietly, “You will have an AIDS test and VD tests before you touch me ever again. And I will be there to hear the results. All secrets stop now. Do you hear me, Austin?”

  Austin felt a cold fog of shame and dread steal over his fatigue. There was the price to be paid for touching and loving another male. It was this same humiliation of his teen misstep come back again. The knowing nurse. The veneer of clinical concern over a doctor’s repugnance. He swallowed hard and tried to control the tremble in his voice as he said, “Of course, Meg. I’ll get it taken care of immediately.”

  Meg lifted her head and nodded. With a tremble in her own voice, she said simply, “What about me, Austin? Did you never think I would leave you? Did you never think you would hurt me doing what you’ve done? Didn’t you even think of me?”

  “It didn’t really have anything to do with you, Meg,” Austin choked out. “It was just mine.” Tears of frustration stole into his eyes. “I know how selfish that sounds, but I swear to god,” he snuffled, “I swear to almighty god, it didn’t have anything to do with you.”

  Meg saw the tears that now fell from one eye, then the other. She nodded, but said, “Thanks for that, but I know it’s not true.”

  Austin wiped his face and hung his head before he choked back a pitiable sob.

  Meg looked at his humbled head and wanted to both slap him and hug him. When she was a girl, she had seen her mother break a long branch off a poplar tree that grew in their backyard and strip the leaves off the slender stinging branch with one clean downward swipe of her hand and a look of murder in her eyes. Her brothers would begin to walk backwards away from the whipping that was inevitable. Pitiless, her mother would make them stand stock still as she beat them with the branch until she broke down in sympathetic sobs. Her tears blended with those of her switch-chastened sons, until her anger was spent and her love stilled her arm. Meg pushed her own tears away in the sight of her husband’s guilty hung head. This switching was done, her love had overcome her anger, and she was exhausted by the effort.

  Meg stood and walked to his desk and switched off his lamp, willing him not to turn and look once more out that damnably haunted window. “C’mon, Austin,” she said quietly and pushed his shoulders gently. “It’s time we went to bed.”

  “I’ll still need to say goodbye,” he said miserably.

  “Of course,” Meg said. “He was your friend and he’s leaving. But you’d better do it vertically,” she said wearily.

  Austin looked up at her and nodded with guilty seriousness.

  Meg fought a smile at his endearing male artlessness. He was, and now always would be, no more than another unruly child in her eyes. The mother triumphed over the wife and she said threateningly, “I’m warning you, Austin, I’ll know. And my understanding has its limits. I will divorce you.”

  Obediently, Austin stood and took her hand. Hopefully, he watched her as he stood. Meg gave him a small smile and he put his arm around her waist and held her as they took the first steps out of one door and into another place altogether.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The good neighbor…

  5160 ST. MARK’S COURT

  WHEN RORY TURNED onto St. Marks Court, the truck in front of the Hardens’s house was just pulling away. For a second, he felt a flash of panic. The movers weren’t due to arrive and pack his household goods until the following day. He was scared somehow they’d come a day early, only to find him gone and the house locked tight. However, by the time he completed his turn as the unwieldy truck made its own turn in the cul-de-sac at the end of the street, he could see it wasn’t the large moving van he was expecting. He breathed a sigh of relief until he saw Austin waiting at the end of his drive.

  Rory hadn’t seen or spoken to Austin since the night two weeks before when he and Bruno had gone over to tell him and Meg the news of their sudden departure. The weeks that followed were fully consumed by house hunting so far away and making all the arrangements to get the thing accomplished in such a short space of time. But, that was only part of his failure to see Austin. It was really the excuse. The reason lay in the fact that Rory simply couldn’t deal with the emotions of saying goodbye to the man. Though it was a necessary detail, he knew, he couldn’t find the way to do it.

  Yet, here was Austin now, waving him into his driveway as though guiding an airliner into its berth at the gate. Rory met Austin’s grin with a reluctant smile of his own as he shut off his car and reached for his backpack on the seat next to him. Before he could open his car door, Austin opened it for him and said, “I was wondering if you were coming home this morning.”

  “I had some errands to run,” Rory explained. “We’re getting down to the wire.”

  “When do you close on the house?” Austin asked as Rory got out of the car and he closed the door behind him.

  “Done,” Rory said. “We met at the attorney’s office yesterday afternoon. Your new neighbors are being very kind and are letting us stay on a couple of more days to get packed and out.”

  “When are you actually leaving?” Austin asked sadly.

  “Sunday morning,” Rory said. “What are you doing home on a Thursday?”

  “Our new stuff from Pottery Barn just got delivered,” Austin explained. “I had to stay to take delivery. Meg has depositions this morning. I’m heading into the office in a little while, now that they’ve come and gone.”

  “Is it nice?” Rory said with a smile at Austin’s obvious happiness.

  “Come see,” Austin said and took his hand.

  “I don’t know,” Rory said reluctantly. “I’ve got a ton of things to do before the movers come and you need to be getting to work.”

  Austin took a step toward his house and pulled Rory along by the hand. “It won’t take long, I promise.”

  Rory gently took back his hand from Austin’s grasp. “Austin… I’m not sure…”

  Austin stopped and looked at Rory for a moment before turning his gaze toward his house. “It’s nothing like that, Rory.” He looked back at Rory once more and said seriously, “I really want you to see the loft. In a big way, you’re responsible for giving me the guts to put it together. This isn’t some big ploy to… to get up to something. Okay?”

  Rory nodded. “Okay. Anyway, this will give us a chance to talk. I’ve been putting off…”

  “Saying goodbye?” Austin said gently. “I have noticed, you know.”

  “Fair enough,” Rory said.

  “Okay!” Austin said and turned to lead the way to his house and loft.

  Rory followed along behind him si
lently. He had too much to say to make small talk, and any way he could imagine the conversation turning lead straight into minefields he was scared to negotiate.

  For his part, Austin remained silent as well. He let them into the house and on up the stairs, remembering other occasions for this same trip of steps. Then, the destination was decidedly different, but in a growing way, increasingly Austin found himself wishing it was the same. Once he arrived at the top of the stairs, he felt a familiar ache swell in his heart and his groin. He stepped out of Rory’s way, not merely to give him an unobscured view of the loft, but also hide his own unexpressed longing.

  Rory stepped past Austin and on into the loft. He took in the view of the new furniture, in place against the carefully calculated color of the newly painted walls, with honest appreciation. “My god,” he said. “It’s wonderful.”

  “Do you really like it?” Austin asked bashfully. “I picked out all the furniture and measured and everything to make sure it would fit right.”

  Rory turned and gave him a huge grin. “You nailed it, Austin. Everything—the scale, the colors, the wood finishes—you just did a fantastic job.”

  “Meg chose the new paint,” Austin admitted.

  “Well, her choice was inspired,” Rory said ungrudgingly. “You tell her I said that.”

  Austin looked at him and then away quickly. “That might not be the right thing to say.”

  “Why?” Rory said confused. “She did a great job.”

  “Could we sit down a minute?” Austin said pleadingly.

  “Oh hell, don’t tell me…” Rory said bleakly.

  “Let’s go into my office, okay?” Austin urged. “We need to talk. Just talk, okay?”

  With resignation, Rory allowed his backpack to slide off his shoulder and caught it with his hand on the way down. Then, nearly dragging his feet, he turned and walked into Austin’s office with the man close behind. Once inside, he walked straight to Austin’s desk and stood with his back to the room, looking out the window and down onto his own pool deck.

  Austin moved behind him and sat awkwardly on his sofa. “Come sit down, Rory,” he said gently. “Isn’t it time we did this, or did you just plan to leave without…”

  “Without the painful goodbye?” Rory interrupted without turning around. “I thought about it Austin,” he said truthfully.

  “Me too,” Austin admitted. “Come sit,” he insisted.

  Reluctantly, Rory moved to the sofa and sat down next to Austin with a closeness that surprised both of them. Rory placed his backpack between his feet and then swiveled until his knee was touching Austin’s leg. “She knows, doesn’t she?” He said quietly.

  “She figured it out,” Austin said. “Completely on her own.”

  “I’m so sorry, Austin,” Rory said and touched him lightly on the thigh. “Please believe me when I tell you I never wanted that to happen.”

  “It’s okay, Rory.” Austin sighed. “She’s been very mature about it and I… well, I have done a lot of thinking.” Austin placed his palm over Rory’s hand and tenderly asked, “Do you think Bruno knows?”

  Rory turned his hand under Austin’s palm and gave his hand a squeeze before taking his own back. “He hasn’t said anything if he does. But I have to wonder. He got us the fuck out of here like a hurricane was on our tails.”

  Austin laughed. “Either that or he knew I was on your tail.”

  Rory snickered. “You’re lucky he didn’t break your jaw.”

  “He really loves you that much, doesn’t he?” Austin asked suddenly sober.

  “Yes,” Rory said without hesitation. “For all he fucks up on occasion, he’s never for one second made me feel I wasn’t very much loved.”

  “I wanted you to love me, you know that don’t you?” Austin said plainly.

  “Yes, I know you did,” Rory admitted. “But you know I couldn’t, right?”

  Austin sighed deeply and leaned against the soft sofa’s soft back cushions. “Right.”

  “It’s my conscience,” Rory explained hopefully. “Maybe it’s a Catholic thing, but I could give you my body, but I couldn’t give you my heart. My love belongs to somebody else. You just needed my heart worse than you did my body. I wish we could have just been friends, without the sex.”

  “Those were your brakes,” Austin said gently. “You had them this time, I didn’t.”

  Rory looked at him questioningly. “I’m not sure I follow you.”

  “That time we were coming back from Fort Myers,” Austin explained. “You were trying to explain why gay guys fell in love with straight guys. You said straight guys could fuck but couldn’t love. You said those were their brakes.”

  Rory nodded. “That’s what I always thought.”

  “Yeah, but this time you were wrong,” Austin said and looked him in the eye. “I fell in love with you. But I don’t regret it.”

  “I’m so sorry, Austin,” Rory told him gently.

  “Don’t be,” Austin demanded. “I can’t take pity. I can take you saying you just fucked me because you felt like it, or to get back at Bruno, but for god’s sake, don’t tell me I was a pity fuck.”

  “That’s not how I feel at all,” Rory insisted.

  “Then how do you feel, you stingy fucker?” Austin demanded. “Did you feel anything at all?”

  Rory took a moment to consider what he must keep against giving away himself. “For the first time in forever, you made me feel wonderful and fascinating and sexy as hell. I can say I love you for that and not be lying. You want me to love you? Well, there you are. Don’t act like I didn’t feel anything.” Rory finished his little tirade and then hung his head.

  For a little while, they didn’t say anything, they just sat together in a way more intimately than any act they had shared on that very sofa, in that sun-filled room. They both knew there would never have been any complete understanding between them. What they did share was the comfort of an animal warmth that resonated deeper than words could articulate. At last, Austin reached for Rory and pulled him against his chest. Rory didn’t resist, but rather settled in against him, listening to him breathe, listening to his heartbeat. Austin stroked Rory’s lightly muscled side and buried his lips in the freshly shorn bristles on his scalp. He breathed in Rory’s scent of coconut shampoo and sighed contentedly. For just these few moments, they both found what they had blundered along looking for before.

  Finally, Rory stretched away from Austin and gave him a smile. “I have something for you,” he said and opened the flap of his backpack.

  “Is it a going-away present?” Austin asked, concerned. “I didn’t get you one.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Rory said dismissively and handed Austin a CD.

  Austin looked at the artwork featuring an African-American man moodily looking away from a saxophone.

  “Two of my three studio songs made it on the CD,” Rory said proudly.

  Austin looked up at him incredulously. “This is it?”

  Rory nodded and smiled. “The two I’m on are ‘Groove with You’ and ‘Footsteps in the Dark.’ ”

  “When did you get this?” Austin asked excitedly.

  “This morning,” Rory said, “when I went to get my haircut. Dazz Coleman, the producer, he’s on the down-low with this twink hairdresser who cuts my hair.”

  “Have you heard it?” Austin asked as he started nicking the wrapper with his fingernail.

  “Please,” Rory said sardonically, “until I’m sick of it. They played it non-stop in the salon. They all love it. I got a free haircut out of it, anyway.”

  “I want to listen to it right now,” Austin insisted.

  Rory gently placed his hand over the CD. “Not while I’m here unless you want me to cry.”

  “Why?” Austin said incredulously.

  Rory smiled. “Both of those songs have a lot of meaning for me. I guess that comes through in the way I sang them. I just want you to know, if you ever have any more questions about what I’ve fel
t for you, just listen to those two songs.”

  “No one’s ever sung for me before,” Austin said shyly.

  “I have,” Rory said. “And, I did.”

  “Thanks, Rory. I really mean it,” Austin said and placed his palm on the side of Rory’s face.

  Rory gently reached up, and took his hand, and brought it to his lips. He kissed Austin’s knuckles and then stood. “Goodbye, you wonderful man.”

  Austin stood and reached for him, but Rory stooped for his backpack and was in full retreat the moment its strap was grasped m his hand.

  VENETIAN VISTAS

  MEG COULD TELL spring was near. It was still light outside the breakfast nook’s window when she shut down her laptop and made her way upstairs to the loft. Though she had seen the new furniture in place against the freshly painted coral-orange-ish shade of the walls when she got home, she found herself anticipating the loft’s new look with some excitement. The space that really contained the heart of her home was a triumph of give and take between husband and wife, in her way of thinking. She freely admitted Austin had been inspired when he chose the U-shaped sectional sofa and the other pieces as well. Now the loft embraced instead of excluded her, though it still was primarily the domain of Austin and the boys.

  When she got to the top of the stairs, Meg closed her eyes and opened them again slowly to take in the room and its contents. Austin sprawled comfortably in one corner of the sofa, watching CNN on the TV in its new entertainment center. Josh worked contentedly at the computer the boys shared, which was perched at its place at the end of the new table that ran between their matched pair of new hutch-like desks. The entire area was as serene and upscale as a spread from the Pottery Barn catalogue itself.

  She paused and mentally placed new sconces and a hanging lamp or two that the room called for. The desks lacked adequate lighting, and Austin definitely needed some light to read by, just there, suspended over the sofa’s spot on the sofa he’d claimed as his own. She smiled. Austin might have made the grand gesture embodied in the furniture, but she was the one who knew what details to place in order to make the room really come together. For a quick moment she regretted the fact that Rory Fallon was moving. He’d have come in handy when it came time to put up light fixtures, but Meg decided she’d gladly pay for an electrician herself if the little bastard would just get the hell away from her husband and her life.