Guilty Little Secret

by F M Land

  Tasting vomit in my throat, I spun on my heel and fled into the elevator. For some reason, my hands were shaking, both of them. More than anything, I wanted to be back in California, away from New York, and Ken, and Drew.

  In the car, things had gone from bad to terrible. Drew was sobbing into his hands, pointedly ignoring Terry’s offers of comfort. I stepped into the car and squeezed Drew’s shoulder. “Drew, I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you,” I said softly. My words made Drew sob even harder.

  Terry and I exchanged looks of resignation. The deed was done. Drew and Ken were totally alienated. I wasn’t even sure how I felt about anyone anymore. There I was: one minute, in love with Terry and Ken; the next minute, disenchanted with both of them.

  “No luck with Ken?” Terry asked.

  I struggled against a wave of nausea. “He was busy,” I answered as evenly as I could.

  Never was I so glad to get to Valhalla. I practically swooned in my father’s arms. Then I turned to my mother, crushing her in an overly exuberant hug. “Happy Birthday, Maman! I’m so glad to be back home!”

  I even hugged Dizzy. The look Dizzy gave me told it all. Dizzy knew that Ken was mad at me. Dizzy probably knew about Ken’s date that night, as well. His gray eyes were dark with worry.

  Of course Dad had a thousand questions about Robbie, his new album, and Ken. “Will Ken be here for dinner tonight?” he asked.

  Sighing, I glanced at Terry, who was hovering over Drew. “No, Ken had other plans for tonight. We just came from his place.” Suddenly, I felt like crying. I avoided my father’s eyes. “Excuse me. I need to use the john.”

  When I emerged from the bathroom, my eyes dried, the first thing I heard was “Fighting Fire,” the love rap that Terry and I had written during the winter. Dad was playing our last recording of the tune. I paused in the doorway to listen. My eyes met my father’s. I smiled at him.

  “Great, isn’t it?” Dad asked, as proud as if it were his tune.

  I nodded. Then I turned my gaze toward Drew and Terry. Drew seemed scarcely able to hold himself together. Every syllable of the lyrics to “Fighting Fire” seemed to torture him. He sat stiffly in a chair near the west bay window, staring darkly at the sky.

  Dizzy and Maman brought food out to the table. I wondered if Dizzy really knew about the rift between Ken and me. The smile Dizzy flashed me told me little. I grinned back at my brother and rushed to help him with setting the table, relieved to get away from Dad and Drew.

  Dinner was punctuated by Dad’s happy chatter and Drew’s nervous cough. I had absolutely no appetite, and it appeared that Terry, Drew, and Maman weren’t eating much either. Maman glared alternately at me and at Terry, when she thought Dad wasn’t watching. She seemed to comprehend what had happened.

  After dinner, Maman unwrapped presents. I pushed a gaily wrapped package towards her.

  “This is from Terry and me, Maman. We bought it for you in Mexico.”

  Suddenly Drew spoke up. “Justine, I am not feeling well. Will you excuse me?”

  Maman rose to her feet and hurried towards him. “Come, let me get you to bed, Drew.” She glared at Terry openly this time, not caring who saw her. “Come, dear,” she said to Drew. She left our present untouched, as she led Drew out of the room. “I need your help, please, Davy.”

  “At your service, madame.” Dad leapt to his feet and followed them out of the room.

  We sat at the dining room table, Terry, Dizzy, and I, in uncomfortable silence for a minute or so until Dizzy stood up and announced, “I need a beer. Anyone?” He waited for us to respond then, getting no response, went into the kitchen. Terry and I gazed at each other across the table. We didn’t speak for a long time.

  Terry broke the silence. “This is awful. It’s not what I expected, but it is what I feared would happen.”

  “I feel horrible,” I agreed.

  “I feel like I’ve committed a terrible crime.” Terry looked down at his plate.

  Dad swooped into the room, looking pretty angry. “Pedophilia, if you want to give it a name.” He sat down next to Terry and glared at him.

  “Give me a break, Davy.” He turned to return Dad’s glare.

  Dad’s glare softened into a look of amusement. “He’s half your age, Ter. I don’t know whether to berate you or congratulate you.”

  “It’s not Terry’s fault, Dad. I seduced him. He put me off for a long time. Believe me.”

  Dad turned his cold, angry eyes on me. I felt bathed in his anger. I could see, hear, feel his anger. It was terrifying. I shivered involuntarily.

  “What you don’t know, son, is that Terry and I have a history.”

  “Wha ---” I didn’t know what he was trying to say. Then I saw the look that Dad and Terry exchanged, and I understood. “No way!”

  Dad smiled at Terry and nodded. “Yes, years before you were born. And I can’t even blame it on my drinking. It was after the fire. I wasn’t drinking anymore. But, Terry and I spent a lot of time alone together working on music. One day it felt really hot, I was really turned on. I asked Terry if he felt it, too.”

  I turned to Terry. “What were you feeling?”

  “I was a dumb kid. I was feeling like ‘Davy Koster wants to do me? Davy Koster? Cool!’”

  Dad made “tsk, tsk” noises. “Yeh, just like every other girl I fucked at that time.”

  Terry gave him a playful shove.

  “I mean it. They all wanted to fuck me because of my name, who I was. They didn’t care to know me, the real me. That’s what I loved about Justine. She understood deeply about who I really was, and she loved me in spite of it.”

  “I knew you, I understood you as best as anyone, but I still was turned on when you suggested we get it on.” Terry cocked his head and smiled at Dad.

  I looked from Terry to my father. “So?”

  Dad continued his story. “So, we started making out. It was very heavy, very arousing. Then Terry gave me a blow job. And when it was over, we were both immediately very sorry. Terry hugged me and burst into tears. We were shattered, not sure what to do. We had to tell Drew. We knew that much, but we didn’t know how. So, we went downstairs and waited for Gabe to come home.”

  “Wait, you were up in the studio. That’s where you got it on?” I looked from Dad to Terry.

  Terry laughed, a bit uncomfortably. “Yeh, that studio has seen a lot of action over the years!” He and Dad chuckled.

  “So, Gabe was living with you at the time, Dad?”

  “Yeh, we knew that Gabe would know what to do. One of the benefits of living with a shrink.” Dad stopped and called out, “I know you are in the kitchen listening, Dizzy. Come join us!”

  Dizzy appeared in the doorway, looking a bit embarrassed. He held up a beer bottle and dangled it in front of his face. “Can I get anybody anything?”

  “Sit down,” Dad ordered him.

  Dizzy sat down on the other side of Terry. All three of them sat facing me across the table. I felt like I was on trial.

  Dad continued with his story. “We sat in the living room and waited for Gabe. Terry couldn’t stop crying, is all I remember. When Gabe came home, he listened quietly and made some suggestions. First, he thought Drew would be more comfortable if he were told in his apartment, his nest where he felt safe. Then he suggested that Terry go there and tell him honestly what happened. He said, when Drew was ready, that he and I could meet with Drew, wherever, whenever Drew wanted.”

  Terry nodded. “Yeh, Gabe’s advice was great. I went home and told Drew what happened. I told him I was so very sorry and that I would move out if Drew wanted me to. Drew and I both cried for a long time. Drew didn’t want me to leave. I promised him that I would never, ever do that again. We made up, we made love. Later we called Davy and Gabe and invited them over for dinner.”

  “Wow! That must have been tough!” I put my elbows on the table and gazed at my father.

  Dad returned my gaze with an angry look. “It was tough! Drew was very hu
rt. Apologies are like band-aids. They can cover a wound, but it takes time for the wound to heal. Gabe and Drew wrote a song about it. You know the song ‘Facefull’ on Gabe’s second album?”

  “The one where Drew sings lead? Of course!” I remembered that song well because it was the first tune Drew had sung lead on since his Blaise Morgon days. “I don’t remember reading his name in the songwriter credits.”

  “Look again. His name is there.” Dad stopped for a moment, then went on with his story. “Writing that song really helped Drew deal with Terry’s infidelity. Over time, Drew behaved like nothing happened, once he realized that he could trust Terry. One day, he looked at me and joked, ‘Terry just took a shower. He’s fresh and clean, if you need someone to hump on.’ And I responded, ‘Fuck you, Drew,’ to which he replied, ‘Sorry, I don’t do heteros.’ And we laughed and let it pass. Of course, I told Justine all about it years later, and she was pissed at Terry and me for hurting Drew. But, I tell you, I am so lucky to have Gabe and Drew as my best friends. I hope you guys can look back, when you’re my age, and count your best friends among your blessings.” He smiled first at me and then at Dizzy.

  Then Dad turned back to me and frowned. “But, your affair, Paul, was not a one-time blowjob. It’s lasted for five years. And you never felt guilty? Not once?”

  “Sometimes.” I shrugged. “Terry wanted to tell Drew right away, but I begged him not to. I didn’t want our -” I searched for the right word and settled for a French term, “-- liaison amoureuse to end. I always thought that Drew would understand. I was willing to share Terry.”

  Dad crossed his arms, sighed, and stared at the ceiling. Then he turned to Dizzy. “Do your shrink magic,” he directed, waving his hands at Terry and me.

  “I need a cigarette,” I remarked to no one in particular. Dizzy didn’t smoke, and Dad and Terry had given it up.

  “You should buy your own cigarettes,” Dad replied. “My father told me this after RB died, ‘You are an adult now. You need to take care of your own needs. You have to stop waiting for people to do things for you.’ That would be good advice for you, too, Paul.”

  I slunk down in my chair and stared at the empty water glass in front of me.

  Dizzy cleared his throat. “Back to the topic at hand. Terry, you strike me as the most unselfish of you two --”

  “That’s so unfair!” I objected.

  Dizzy didn’t blink. “Okay, let’s try this. I want both of you to tell me on a scale of zero to ten, where zero is the least selfish ever and ten is the most selfish ever, how selfish you think you are. Close your eyes and hold up your fingers to give me your number.”

  I closed my eyes and thought for a moment. I was very unselfish. I paid my band members very well for very little product. I let them have the past few months off so they could get their heads straight. But, I didn’t want to give myself a one or a two, so I settled for a three. I held up three fingers.

  My father stifled a laugh with a cough. I opened my eyes to see him cover his smirk with his hands. I also saw that Terry had seven fingers up in the air. Terry opened his eyes and looked a bit surprised at my three fingers.

  “Okay, Paul, since you are the most unselfish of the two of you, I want you to think for a moment and then tell me whose feelings matter most to you. I will give your four names, and I want you to tell me the order in which you care about their feelings. Okay? Paul, Terry, Drew, Ken. Whose feelings do you care about the most?”

  “Terry’s,” I answered.

  “Okay, Terry is the person whose feelings you care about the most. Who is next?”

  “Ken.”

  “Okay. Who’s next?”

  “Drew.”

  “Then you?”

  “Yes.” I nodded.

  Dizzy turned to Terry. “Your turn, Terry. The same four names: Paul, Terry, Drew, Ken.”

  Terry turned to look at Dizzy. He was silent for a moment, then spoke. “Drew, Paul, me, then Ken.”

  Dizzy looked into Terry’s eyes. “Let me make sure I have this. Drew is the person whose feelings you care about the most.” He waited for Terry to nod. From out of the breast pocket in his shirt, Dizzy produced a small notebook and a pen. He wrote my name, underlined it, then wrote “Terry, Ken, Drew, Paul” in a neat column. Next he wrote Terry’s name, underlined it, and wrote “Drew, Paul, Terry, Ken” in another column. To the name at the top of each list, he wrote a 4. The second name on each list got a 3, the third name got a 2, and the last name got a 1.

  Terry saw immediately what Dizzy was doing. “You can give Ken a zero, for all I care. His feelings don’t mean a thing to me.”

  Dizzy looked at Terry intently for a moment, then wrote a zero over the one next to Ken’s name. Then he added the points. Drew got six points, Terry got six points, I got four points, and Ken got three points. “It seems that Drew and Terry are the men whose feelings matter the most here. Terry, how do you think Drew feels?”

  Terry closed his eyes. “Terrible. Just terrible. Like he’s been taken for a fool.”

  “What do you think Drew wants more than anything, given his feelings?”

  “I’m not sure. We need to talk. I expect he’ll want me to stop carrying on with Paul –“

  “‘Carrying on’? Is that what you call it?” I asked angrily. “I called it ‘une liaison amoureuse’! A love affair!”

  Dizzy put up his hand. “Let Terry speak. You’ll have your turn.”

  Terry avoided my angry stare. “He may want me to move out. He may never trust me again.” He burst into tears at that realization. “Most of all, I am so sorry that he is taking this so badly. Like Paul, I somehow thought he would accept it. It’s been going on for so long.”

  “But not in Drew’s mind. In Drew’s mind, this has just started. This is all very fresh and raw for Drew,” Dizzy reminded Terry.

  “Yes, you’re right, Dizzy.” Terry looked at me directly then. “We’ve got to stop being selfish, and we’ve got to stop hurting people.”

  Dizzy spoke then. “Paul, you are hearing from the most selfish person in the room. He says that the two of you are being selfish and need to stop hurting people. What do you think?”

  My eyes smarted with tears. I nodded. “We are hurting too many people. Like Maman. In addition to Drew and Ken.” I looked at Terry. “We need to stop hurting people.”

  His beautiful green eyes met mine. “I know.”

  “Paul, how do you intend to stop hurting these people whom you love so much?” Dizzy asked.

  The room swam before my eyes for a minute. I tried to imagine life without Terry’s hugs, Terry’s kisses, Terry’s amazing body. I felt sick to my stomach. “Terry and I will have to end our liaison amoureuse. Is that what you want, Terry?”

  Dizzy repeated my question. “Is that what you want, Terry?”

  Terry looked from me to Dizzy. He chose to answer Dizzy, not me. “I think that it’s best for the people that we love if we stop.”

  “Tell Paul.” Dizzy looked from Terry to me, pointedly.

  Terry turned back to me. “I think that it’s best for the people that we love if we stop.”

  I nodded. Tears were now flowing freely down my face.

  Dizzy was quiet for a moment, letting Terry’s words sink in, watching my face. Then he turned to Terry. “This is not going to be easy, Terry. Drew is going to be angry as well as very hurt. But, you need to stay away from Paul. You need to rebuild Drew’s trust in you and in your relationship. Remember how badly he reacted when you gave Dad a blow job?”

  Terry and Dad chuckled a bit over this. But, Terry’s face very quickly saddened. “But really, I am the most selfish person in the room. Paul was willing to share me with Drew. I didn’t want to share Paul with anyone, not Jade, not Ken.”

  Dizzy nodded somberly at Terry’s words. He looked at me, his eyes so similar to Dad’s that they freaked me out a bit. “This is not going to be easy for you, either, Paul. In addition to losing Terry, you have probably lost Ken alread
y. He came and talked to me at length about this yesterday, about his feelings, about his need to move on. Can you let go of Terry, even if you don’t have Ken as an anchor?”

  I couldn’t imagine Ken not wanting to see me again. Ken and I had a special chemistry. We needed to be together. “I have to let go of Terry.” I looked at Terry. “We are hurting too many people.”

  Terry stood up suddenly, pushing back his chair. “I need to be alone with Paul right now. Excuse us.” He walked over to me and took my hand. “Let’s go into the den.”

  Dad picked up some plates from the table and said to Dizzy, “Let’s get to work on these dishes.”

  As I followed Terry into the den, I glanced back at my brother and father. Dad had his arm around Dizzy’s shoulders as they walked into the kitchen, beaming at his older son. Dizzy was his prince, his golden child. Dizzy would never disappoint Dad the way I did.

  In the den, we worked it out between us. Both of us agreed that we had to stop.

  “I didn’t know Drew would be so upset,” Terry murmured. “You were right. This might destroy him.”

  “Yes,” I agreed. “I’ve already destroyed my relationship with Ken, but you can save your marriage to Drew.”

  “I love you,” Terry told me.

  “I know.” Tears sprang to my eyes. “You’ll always love me, and I’ll always love you.” I kissed Terry lightly on the lips. “No one can take that from us. But you need to take care of Drew. You can’t turn your back on him now.”

  Terry choked back a sob. “I know. I can’t leave him like this.”

  “No.”

  We clung to each other then. I could feel hot tears streaming down my face.

  “It’ll be all right,” I told Terry. “Everything will be all right.”

  “I’ve ruined your thing with Ken,” Terry replied mournfully.

  “No, I ruined it. Maybe it wasn’t the right thing to be into, anyway,” I mused aloud. “Maybe I don’t know who he is at all. He’s been acting like a real asshole all week. No,” I smiled at Terry, “this is best.”