Guilty Little Secret

by F M Land

  During the lulls when Drew and Harold spoke together in French, Terry shot quizzical stares in my direction, making me extremely uncomfortable. Jade seemed to sense that something was up and moved closer to me.

  “Who’s your friend?” Terry asked at last.

  “This is Jade Balec. I met him last night at Ziggy’s. Wait ‘til you hear him play guitar, Ter! He’s great! As good as Jeff! Honest.”

  The look in Terry’s eyes was doubtful. He studied Jade’s teeshirt. It was bright red with “Gay Pride March, Washington, D.C., May 1982” printed across the front. Terry looked from Jade to me without speaking.

  “Introduce us!” Drew ordered with an unusual show of sociability.

  “Jade, this is Drew Carelli and Terry Walters. Remember I told you last night that I lived with two other guys? Well, meet Drew and Terry.”

  Jade looked into my face, and I knew. Jade remembered Terry’s name from that morning. Even before Jade whispered, “So this is your Terry!” into my ear, I knew. But, Jade was turned on to Drew. Like most young gay musicians, he idolized Drew. “This is a great place!” he told Drew, hopefully. “There is some marvelous furniture here, too! Look at this mahogany guéridon. It’s a Louis XV, I think!”

  Drew’s eyes studied Jade’s face momentarily before focusing on the small table that Jade was caressing. “No,” he told Jade quickly, “it’s a Louis XVI. See the spindly legs, how they curve in?”

  Uncharacteristically, Drew warmed to Jade immediately. Things clicked between them. Perhaps it was a shared appreciation for antiques. They bounced around the place, examining each stick of wood, using French words to talk about the design, the function.

  When Jade and Harold took Drew off to one of the bedrooms to show him a Victorian-era davenport, I was left alone with Terry.

  “We were worried about you,” Terry said quietly. His eyes had a different message, however. They spoke of betrayal.

  “You were sure sore at me yesterday,” I reminded him.

  Abruptly, Terry turned his eyes away, focusing them on the open doorway of the bedroom instead. “I thought you were going to let Marshall wreck your life again.”

  “No, fuck, no, Ter! I never loved Marshall, don’t you know that?” My voice was suddenly passionate. “You’re the only one I’ve ever loved!”

  “And who is this Jade?”

  “Like I told you, I met him last night. He’s something, Ter. Really something! Wait ’til you hear him play!”

  “Did you spend the night together last night?”

  I nodded, feeling confused. Terry’s hostility was taking a good deal of the joy out of my excitement over Jade. “We want to live together.”

  “One night, and that’s it? A one night stand, and you’re moving in with this guy? God, you’ll be the next one with AIDS!” Terry shot a quick look in the direction of the open door.

  “No, Jade’s very careful about that. He made me use a rubber last night. And this morning. He’s something!”

  Terry’s eyes were unrelenting in their scorn. Even after Drew, Harold, and Jade rejoined us in the living room, he sent powerful scowls in my direction. I was relieved when Dad and Maman arrived.

  By the next day, Friday afternoon, Dad’s lawyer had completed the purchase of Harold’s condo. Jade and I, however, had to wait until Sunday, when Harold moved out, before we could move in. That meant we had to crash with Drew and Terry for a few nights. We could have stayed in Valhalla, Dad invited us to, but we wanted to be in the Village, close to our new pad.

  Thursday evening, Dad took me aside to discuss “business.” We were at Drew and Terry’s, but he suggested that we go to Dizzy’s, so we could talk in private. Before we went out onto the street, Dad donned a windbreaker, pulling the hood over his head to hide his trademark ponytail, and slipped on a pair of eyeglasses. He waited for me to put on my favorite wig with soft, straight brown hair. Sometimes, for fun, I bobby-pinned a yarmulke to the wig, but that night I went out without the kippah. In the evening, Dad was especially careful to conceal his identity on the street, although I often went out without disguising myself.

  When we got to Dizzy’s, Dad laid out Marsh’s offer. Marsh wanted three of my songs for his new album. The money he offered was unbelievable. Dad called it “overcompensation.”

  “He does a great cover,” I remarked.

  Dad smiled into my eyes and nodded. “Yes, and you write great music. You are really talented, boy. You make me look like a schlump!”

  But, what Dad really wanted to discuss was my relationship with Jade. Not our sexual relationship, but our professional relationship. Were we going to be business partners, or was Jade going to work for me? That’s what Dad wanted to know. Dad talked about the business of organizing a band, about compensation for band members. He mentioned Jeff and Jade. And Terry.

  “Terry?”

  “Is Terry your drummer?”

  “Well, yeh, I guess.”

  “Don’t you think he’d like to be paid?”

  I shrugged. I didn’t know what my father was driving at. Terry had lots of money, and, besides, he had Drew’s money, too. “I guess,” I repeated. It was too much to think about. I was glad Dad was dealing for me.

  Dad snorted back a laugh. “Shit, when I was your age, Paul, I was just like you, man! I didn’t give a fuck about the business! I just let RB run my life!” RB was Uncle Rob’s father, and Maman’s father. He was my grandfather, although he died before I was born. RB was the music producer for Dad’s band, Posso, and for lots of other bands, too, like Blaise Morgon’s band. RB was also Posso’s business manager until he died, right before Dizzy and Robbie were born. He controlled Posso’s business and Dad’s money. Since RB’s death, Dad had taken over the business, and he became very good at figuring out the money angles.

  Dad clapped me on the back, real hard. “It’s okay, boy. I enjoy doing it! You have a great future ahead of you. I just want to make sure that you take care of your musicians along the way. If they are talented and if they work well with you, you’ve got to pay to keep them loyal. Dig?”

  So, at Dizzy’s kitchen table, we worked out contract offers for Jade, Jeff, and Terry. Actually, Dad already had it all thought out. I smiled at him in appreciation.

  “Don’t you get a cut, Dad, for managing my business?”

  Shaking his head, Dad smiled broadly. “I don’t need your money, kid. I’ve got plenty of my own.”

  I hugged him, then kissed him, straight out on the mouth. I thought about my band for a moment. “Two guitarists, a bass, and a drummer,” I mused aloud. “You know what I need?”

  “A keyboard player?”

  “You’ve got it, Dad. That’s exactly what I’m thinking.”

  Back at Terry and Drew’s apartment, things were going great between Drew and Jade. I never saw Drew so charmed by anyone before. He seemed to be by Jade’s side constantly, talking about furniture and how to refinish it, or telling him stories about the 50’s music scene in Paris and New York. Terry was quiet, almost sullen. His eyes followed Jade around the room. He acted like an abandoned puppy.

  Saturday night, Drew hauled out his collection of Blaise Morgon records and began to play them for Jade. I sat in the living room with them, although my mind was on Terry, who was out of sight, smoking one cigarette after another, in the kitchen. Jade was captivated by the music, by Drew’s stories, by Drew’s attention.

  I, who’d heard it all before, many times, grew bored. I left them in the living room and strolled down the hall, past the kitchen, where I signaled Terry to follow me, to my bedroom. I paused in the doorway, waiting for Terry. In a flurry, I grabbed Terry and pinned him against the tiled wall of my bathroom, pressing my body against Terry’s. We both gasped with sudden pleasure. Terry offered up his mouth, which I took hungrily. We were tongue on tongue, pubis on pubis. Hearts pounding. All the while whispering “I love you,” “I love you,” between kisses.

  I felt like crying. I was so wretched. Terry looked as if he
was feeling the same way. “This is brutal,” I told Terry.

  “We need to fuck,” Terry replied. He ran his hand over my swollen zizi, squeezing it near the base.

  “Jesus!” I breathed. “God, I love you!”

  “I love you.” Terry’s eyes seemed to plead with me.

  “Hey, tomorrow, I’ll have my own place, Ter. We’ll be able to fuck there.”

  And we did. Whenever Jade and Drew were off on some furniture expedition, which seemed like every other day, Terry and I slipped into my room for some stolen moments of pleasure. It was intense. I barely had enough energy for Jade, some nights. Not that Jade was a demanding lover. But he did like to be intimate. Once I fell asleep in the middle of our lovemaking. It was the only time that Jade complained.

  Then it happened. A couple of weeks after Jade and I settled into our place, Jade came home early one afternoon to find Terry and me in the middle of it. We didn’t hear him come into the apartment. We didn’t hear him come into my room. We were too busy. Me on my back, moaning my pleasure. Terry, his mouth over my erupting zizi.

  “Balls!” Jade cried when he realized what was happening. “Fuck, Paul! I can’t believe this, man!” He stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

  Startled, I clutched Terry’s head to my belly. My heart was pounding, more from Jade’s intrusion than from my orgasm. I wiped the sweat from my neck. I was speechless with guilt.

  Terry scooted himself up in the bed and threw his arms around my neck. A musky odor drifted from his armpits. He looked into my eyes. “It’s okay, babe. Relax! It’ll be okay. If we have to tell Drew, it’s no problem.”

  “No!” That’s all I could say. I was stricken with terror at the thought of Drew and my father learning the truth about Terry and me.

  “Paul, it’s okay. Look, I love you, babe. And, you love me, right?” He raised his mouth for a kiss.

  For a moment, I wasn’t sure if I did love Terry. If it meant that maybe I had to hurt Drew in the process, maybe I didn’t love Terry. Halfheartedly, I pressed my mouth to Terry’s.

  We didn’t have to tell Drew anything, as it turned out. Jade, too, was reluctant to cause Drew any pain. Feeling too guilty to hang around my pad that afternoon, I followed Terry out the door. We were both freaked out by our carelessness. We went to Dizzy’s, played some tunes together, and tried to forget what had happened.

  I didn’t return home until evening. As I stepped into the front hall, I heard Jade strumming a mournful tune on his guitar. With a guilty heart, I followed the sound of his guitar out on the terrace, where Jade sat, bare-chested, guitar on his lap and a bottle of white wine at his side.

  A wave of sadness washed over me as I stood in the doorway, watching my young lover. I didn’t mean to hurt Jade. I would never want to hurt my sweet Jade. I realized, as I gazed at Jade and as Jade slowly raised his red-rimmed eyes slowly to mine, that I loved Jade, really loved him.

  Then I began to cry. I felt my eyes fill with tears, felt the tears run down my face, but I didn’t move a muscle. I stood there for a long time, just gazing at Jade. Finally I spoke. “I’m sorry.”

  Jade nodded. He looked terrible, like he’d been weeping for hours.

  I rushed to him. “I’m so sorry, Jade. We were being selfish and careless. I’d never want to hurt you, or Drew.”

  “Then, stop, Paul. Stop messing around with Terry.”

  Nodding slowly, I understood that that was the only solution. But, I wasn’t sure if I could stop. Certainly, I would never stop loving Terry. “I love you,” I told Jade. “I’m so, so sorry about this afternoon. About everything.” I hesitated. “You’re right. Terry and I have got to stop sneaking around like this.”

  “How long has it been going on, Paul?”

  Instead of answering him directly, I slid my arm across Jade’s shoulders. “Hey, why don’t we get drunk together tonight, you and me, and I’ll tell you all about it?”

  Jade laughed a bit nervously. “I thought you didn’t drink!”

  “I don’t. But tonight I want to get drunk with you. I’ve never done it before, and I want to do it with you tonight.”

  And we did. And, while we did, I told Jade everything. About my childhood, about my attachment to Terry, about how I seduced Terry, about how we’d been carrying on the past year. And when we were drunk, very drunk, we made love, passionately sloppy love, and I promised that I’d never do it with Terry again.

  Terry was pretty incredulous when I told him about my promise to Jade. He shrugged and screwed up his face, studying my eyes closely. And he didn’t say much to Jade when he showed up for rehearsal at Dizzy’s. But he was friendly to Jeff and kept up a steady stream of talk with him. We practiced for a while, tried out our music at Ziggy’s, then went home. Me with Jade. Terry to Drew.

  That week I played the perfect lover, attentive and thoughtful. I enjoyed being with Jade. I was not discontented. But, I did miss my time alone with Terry. Every time I began to long for Terry, I quickly turned my thoughts to other matters.

  For fun, we went to visit Jade’s parents in Yellow Springs. It was cool to meet Jade’s parents. They were middle-aged hippies who lived in a rambling, rundown house on Winter Street. Jade took me around town, to the Winds for dinner, to a funky bar called DeeGee’s. We went dancing with Jade’s hometown friends at 1470, a gay club in Dayton. We hiked in Glen Helen and Clifton Gorge.

  And the whole time, I missed Terry terribly. By Sunday, I could barely think of anything else, except being with Terry. As we drove back to New York, Jade at the wheel of my Jaguar, I was nearly frantic in my need to be with Terry. Desperately, I tried to work out a plan to call Terry, out of Jade’s earshot. I needed to talk to Terry, I needed to see him. Alone.

  When we got close to the city, I suggested that we stop in Valhalla before going home. I figured I could sneak away to call Terry there. I didn’t tell Jade that, though. I told Jade that my parents would be dying of curiosity to know how my weekend with my “in-laws” went. Jade beamed at my reference to “in-laws.” I felt horribly guilty for misleading Jade, for lying to him. But I was desperate to talk to Terry.

  As we pulled down the lane into my parents’ driveway, I immediately recognized Dizzy’s Mercedes, and Drew’s Mercedes, both parked by the house. My heart leapt at the realization that Terry was there. This was better than I’d planned. I hurried into the house, Jade at my heels.

  My parents and their guests were just finishing dinner when Jade and I walked in. Dad and Maman jumped up to greet us, hugging each of us in turn. Eagerly Dad inquired about our weekend in Ohio. I answered mechanically, my eyes and mind on Terry.

  Dizzy pushed his plate away and, staring at Jade’s teeshirt, which proclaimed QUEERBAIT, remarked in French, “Shit, does he have to advertise everywhere he goes?”

  Slowly, deliberately, Jade turned to face Dizzy. In impeccable French, he replied, “I’m not advertising anything. I’m trying to raise people’s consciousness. Everyone should have the right to happiness, don’t you agree?” He used the familiar, rather the formal, form of “you.”

  Dizzy paused thoughtfully, looking Jade in the eye. “Oui. Bien sûr.” He nodded at Jade. “Please forgive me,” he said, also using the familiar form of “you”: “Pardonne-moi, s'il te plaît.”

  Jade glowed at Dizzy’s use of the familiar tu over vous, smiling broadly and tipping his head at Dizzy.

  Maman looked from Dad to Drew to Jade. “You speak beautiful French!” she told Jade gaily.

  Jade smiled shyly. “I spent my junior year in high school in France, in Aix en Provence, in an exchange program.”

  Grinning, Drew spoke up. “I told you so, Justine!” He turned to Jade and addressed him in French, asking him about his parents’ reaction to me.

  While Jade commanded the attention of the others, I signaled furtively to Terry to leave the room. Within minutes, we were alone in the front hall, crushed in each others’ arms, breathing heavily. We held each other tightly for as long
as we could, our ears open for approaching footsteps.

  “I missed you horribly,” I told Terry in a croaking whisper.

  “I know,” Terry agreed.

  Our eyes met. Suddenly, the longing reached a crescendo. I started to weep. Terry sat down on one of the stairs in the hall staircase and pulled me into his arms, to comfort me.

  “I want to see you, Ter.”

  “Okay.”

  “Tonight.”

  “Okay.”

  And that was that. Within hours, we were alone in the music studio at Dizzy’s, pawing at each other, kissing deeply. I rewound and played the tape of our last recording session, to give us cover. How could I ever have turned my back on such pleasure? Only Terry could make me feel like this. Only Terry could make me sigh and moan and scream and beg for more. Only Terry.

  “You told me once,” Terry began, when our neediness was quenched, “way back when, Paul, that we would never be able to stop loving each other like this.” His beautiful green eyes gazed into mine. “You were right.”

  “I missed you terribly,” I told him gently. “I need to be with you, Ter.”

  Terry nodded and pulled me close. “What about Jade?” he murmured.

  I shrugged. “He’ll have to live with it, or without me.”

  “You’re sneaking off again with Terry, aren’t you?” Jade asked me reproachfully when I returned home that night from Dizzy’s.

  “Yeh. I admit it. I’m sorry. I love you, Jade, but I can’t live without him. I’ve tried, but I can’t. I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you, but it hurts me too much to stay away from him. I need him so much!”

  Jade’s eyes filled with tears. “We had such a nice weekend in Yellow Springs. I can’t believe you’re ruining it like this.”

  “I’m sorry. I told you, I’m sorry. Look, maybe one of us should move out.”

  Jade looked alarmed, almost frightened. “Don’t be ridiculous. We can work this out.”