Reunion

by Michael Bailey

“Should I ask why?”

  The bartender returned with our drinks. I turned to him and took mine, grateful for the brief interruption and the liquor. Talking about my family always brought an instant pang of heartache, something I’d never learned how to deal with, so I tried to keep it buried. I took a sip of my gin and tonic. I turned back to Noah to find him staring. “What?” I asked, maybe a little too harshly.

  He looked almost hurt. “Did I say something wrong?”

  I tried to wave him off, as if the question he’d asked hadn’t had any effect on me. I was almost positive he could see right through me. “I’m sorry,” I answered. “No, you didn’t. It’s just kind of a sore subject.”

  “I assume things didn’t go well,” he said, taking a long pull from his new beer.

  “Understatement. Serious understatement. My parents had never been too keen on having an out gay boy in the family. But as long as we didn’t talk about it, it didn’t exist. Then I met someone a few years ago. I thought we were going to last, and I wanted him to meet my family. So, I arranged a nice dinner in a fancy restaurant, figuring that if we were in public, there wouldn’t be a scene. I couldn’t have been more wrong. The moment my mother saw James and me sitting side by side, she knew what the score was. She threw a fit, accused me of ambushing her and throwing my ‘lifestyle’ in her face. Then she stormed out. My dad didn’t say a word. Just followed her out the door.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Noah reached over and gently squeezed my shoulder. Something passed between us, warm and familiar. For a moment, I felt as if we were in high school again, giddy at the possibility that he and I could be something other that a closeted jock and his…whatever I was to him. But the moment passed, and I was sitting on a stool at the hotel bar. I felt a sense of loss, like something irreplaceable had been taken from me. I wanted it back.

  “Don’t be. It’s not your fault.” I noticed Noah hadn’t moved his hand away from my shoulder. Maybe he had felt it too.

  “No, it’s not. But I can still feel bad for you. It’s just…wrong.”

  I chuckled. “I can’t argue that. But what can ya do? My parents were old school before there was an old school.”

  “Can I assume that you never brought anyone you were dating around to meet the parents?” Noah asked.

  “I’ve never dated anyone long enough to want to take home.

  “And that’s why you went to Michigan?”

  “Not right away, but eventually, yeah. I made friends that lived there. One of them needed a roommate, and I needed a fresh start. With nothing keeping me here, I figured what the hell. Might as well give it a try.”

  “Ever think about moving back?”

  “Can I lie and say no?”

  He smiled. It was a dazzling thing. “No, you can’t.”

  “Then yes, all the time.”

  “Then what’s stopping you?”

  “Moving back home? What for?” As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew the answer. Maybe on some subconscious level, the reason I was looking to expand my business into downtown Toledo was for exactly that reason. To give me a reason to move back. While I’d lived in Michigan for years, it never felt quite like home.

  Noah shrugged. “I don’t know. Are things going that well up there?”

  “As well as can be expected.” What I didn’t tell him was that I had always felt this pull, this need to return, if for no other reason than to show my parents that I had actually made something of myself. Maybe, to a certain extent, I was still looking for their approval. But could anyone really blame me? Sure, I had led my life the best way I knew how up to this point, but had always felt as if something was missing. I couldn’t be sure if it was having a boyfriend that loved me unconditionally, or the approval of my parents. Or, maybe it was a combination of both.

  “That sounds like there could be room for improvement.”

  “Isn’t there always? I mean, whose life is perfect?”

  He got this wistful look in his eye, like he knew what I was talking about, and it made me wonder what he would improve on if he had the chance. “What about you?”

  “Me?” He looked shocked by the question, as if he hadn’t expected the tables to be turned.

  “Yes, you. I assume you’re not living in Toledo anymore, either?”

  “No, I am.”

  “Then what’s with the hotel?”

  “Would you believe a staycation of sorts?”

  I laughed. “Actually, I might. My parents used to do the same thing when I was a kid. They’d hire one of my aunts to stay with me so they could have a night out without being saddled with the responsibility of a child.”

  “Sometimes we all need a break from our real lives to put things into perspective.”

  His answer made me wonder what he had going on in his life that he needed a break from. He had always seemed to have everything together, but I also knew that I was proof that wasn’t always the case. There’s the “us” we choose to portray to the outside world, then there was the “us” that we really were. “I couldn’t agree more. But that makes me wonder what, or who, you need a break from?”

  Was I digging? You bet. The longer we talked, the more I wanted to know. And wasn’t that something? I had come to this reunion wanting to hate him, and was finding myself wanting to know more about him.

  Life, or timing as the case may be, had other plans, because just as he was about to answer, the bartender returned. I shot him a look that I hoped said “leave us the fuck alone,” but I don’t think he got the message. “Doing okay here, guys?”

  “Just peachy,” I answered, shooting daggers at Rick the Interrupter. He must have been wearing Kevlar under that crisp, white shirt, because he didn’t so much as flinch.

  He had to have been bored to be focusing so much attention on us. Either that, or he was purposely acting like a wet blanket. His lips curled into a knowing smile as he turned to Noah. “You?”

  Wet blanket it was.

  Noah lifted his beer bottle high over his head and into the overhead lights shining down, sloshing it around to gauge its contents. “Sure, I’ll have another one. And so will he.”

  Before I could protest, Rick turned away to grab more alcohol.

  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he didn’t like you very much.”

  “Rick and I had a thing.” I shrugged. “It was over before it started.”

  “Rick?”

  I waved a hand in Rick’s general direction. “Our bartender.”

  “Ah, so you’re on a first-name basis.”

  “No. At least not as far as he knows. Got his name from his name badge.”

  “He’s wearing one?” Noah said, focusing his eyes on me like a laser. “I hadn’t noticed.”

  His eyes bore into me with an unspoken message. At least, that’s how I was interpreting the look. “Do you often pick up bartenders?”

  “No. Never have, in fact. They usually flirt for the tips, but there’s no follow-through. And, I noticed you sidestepped the question.”

  “What question was that?”

  “Vacation. From someone in particular?”

  “Are you asking if I’m seeing anyone?”

  Damn him. Laying it all out there like that. But, yes, he was right, I was. The last thing I wanted was to be having drinks with a taken man. Jealous boyfriends were not my thing. Even if what was happening between us was platonic, we still had decades-old history that may not go over well.

  “Blunt, aren’t you?” he answered.

  “When I need to be, yes.”

  He looked sad, but only for a moment before answering, “No, I’m hopelessly, helplessly single. Despite Thomas and Ethan’s best intentions.”

  This piqued my curiosity. “They try setting you up on dates?”

  Noah barked out a laugh. “Dates? No. Get laid. Yes. Neither of them are married. At least, not anymore. As far as they’re concerned, relationships never work and”—Noah raised both of his hands up, and mad
e air quotes as he said—“‘it’s better just to hit it and quit it.’ Thomas’s words, not mine.”

  I felt disappointed. If his friends felt that way, where did that leave Noah? Had he gone from the kid that didn’t want to come out to nothing but a player, willing to sleep with whomever, whenever? If his friends were like that, was he as well? Then I thought of something else.

  “So, wait a minute, your best friends came with you to the hotel, right?”

  He looked at me as if he wasn’t completely understanding the question. “Um…yeah.”

  “And they got rooms, right?”

  “As we’ve already established, yes.”

  “Then what kind of friends are they that they ditch you, leave you hanging like that?”

  He gave me a dopey grin. “Concerned for my well-being?”

  “Don’t be an ass. I just think that if these guys were really your friends, they wouldn’t have left you high and dry without a room.”

  Noah sighed and took a sip from his beer. “It’s not like it was their fault. They didn’t fuck up the reservations, the hotel did. And, it’s not like they had much of a choice.”

  “There’s always a choice. Like I said before, they could have offered to share one of their rooms.”

  “They did, remember. I told them no.”

  “Because of your own hang-ups.”

  He nodded. “Because of my own hang-ups,” he agreed. “Besides, I told them to head up. The hotel assured me that they’d get it straightened out, and that I’d have a room. Eventually.”

  He didn’t sound convinced. Not in the slightest.

  Then, before I could even think about it, I said, “Share mine.”

  His eyes went wide in surprise and he choked. “Are you inviting me back to your room?”

  I felt my face flush because I knew what he was getting at. I’d be lying if the thought hadn’t crossed my mind. But the reality of the situation came crashing back. I didn’t know him well enough to sleep with him. I figured he was the “hit it and quit it” type, like his friends, and that was simply something I wasn’t about. I may talk a big game and flirt my ass off, but when push came to shove, I had no follow-through. So, no, the idea wasn’t for sex. I had something more altruistic in mind.

  “I am.”

  The corners of his mouth lifted into a grin.

  “Hold up there, perv,” I said, lifting a finger to make him stop. “I’m not thinking about that.”

  Much.

  The expression on his face told me he didn’t quite believe me. I waved my finger in his face. “Don’t go getting any ideas. The hotel put me in a room with two beds.” I lifted my middle finger to join the first, the universal sign for the number two.

  “Now, obviously there’s only one of me.”

  “Obviously.” Still with that damn smile.

  “And therefore, I only need one bed.”

  “How very astute of you.”

  “Don’t be a smart-ass, or I’ll take back the offer.”

  He put his forefinger and thumb to his lips and turned them, as if he was locking his mouth closed.

  “You can stay with me until the hotel situation is resolved.”

  “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude.” He glanced over at Rick, who was busy making himself obvious and inconspicuous at that same time.

  “You’re not intruding on anything. It’s just me, you need somewhere to sleep, and I happen to have an extra bed.” Besides, what I wasn’t about to tell him was that if it gave me a chance to spend more time with him, well, that was a hardship I was willing to risk. Somehow.

  “Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, given our…history?”

  “Which is just that, history. But it’s up to you.”

  He pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket and swiped at the screen. “No missed calls, which means the hotel hasn’t contacted me. Let me go to the front desk and ask what the status of the room is. Be right back.”

  I watched him head to the entrance of the bar and had to wonder if maybe this was the best idea I’d ever had.

  Or maybe the worst.

  Well, that idea certainly seemed to come out of nowhere.

  Not that I was complaining. Obviously. But I had to wonder, was this something that the both of us would regret later on down the road? Lord, I hoped not. The idea of having more time to spend with Charlie, more so than the promise of an actual bed to sleep in, was the driving reason that I wanted to take him up on his offer. I was sure it was platonic, for the most part. I hadn’t missed the look in his eye, however brief it may have been, that told me that he wished it had been about something more. The fact was, I didn’t want to rush him. He had always been the type to jump into things feetfirst and consider the consequences later. It didn’t seem as if that had changed much. Which would mean that it would be me that kept things from escalating too quickly.

  My main problem, however, wasn’t going to be him. It was going to be me. I was fighting my own urge to press forward, consequences be damned. There was so much I felt I had to make up for, decisions that I had made so many years ago that I ultimately came to regret. Not all of them, but enough. Particularly where Charlie was concerned.

  I made my way to the front desk. I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t be a little disappointed if they had found me a room. It was always possible that they had one and simply hadn’t called me yet. As I stepped in line at the desk, I pulled my cell phone from my back pocket. As long as I was waiting, I could fire off a quick text home.

  -Hotel messed up the reservation, but no need to worry. Everything under control. Hope everything’s good there.

  The response was almost immediate. -Glad you have it handled, honey. We’re doing good here. Try to have fun, and we’ll see you Sunday night.

  -Need anything, call me.

  -I will. Love you, honey.

  -Love you too.

  Despite everything that had happened through the years, my mother had turned out to be the rock of the family. I shouldn’t have been surprised, really. She was spirited and strong-willed, a fierce protector of those she loved. God help anyone that crossed her. I don’t know that my family could have gone through the hell they had with my sister without my mother’s strength. Yes, she had been devastated by what happened to Grace. But where most mothers would have been consumed by anger and grief, my mother turned sorrow into action. There’s not a day that goes by that I’m not grateful to have her in my corner. She was my biggest supporter and advocate. She was the very reason I had everything I did. I think I can truthfully say I would be lost without her. And I certainly wouldn’t have—

  “Can I help you?” the woman behind the counter asked, breaking me from my thoughts. She was the same from earlier, but I highly doubted she remembered me.

  I slid my phone back into my pocket as I approached the desk. “I was wondering if my room was available yet?”

  “You were in earlier this evening.”

  Okay, so maybe she did remember me. “I was. Apparently, there had been a problem with my reservation.”

  “If by problem, you mean we lost it,” she said with an awkward smile, “then yes, there had been a problem. Noah something-or-other.”

  “Emerson. Noah Emerson.”

  She typed away at her keyboard, then frowned. “Unfortunately, nothing has come available yet. The offer still stands to call you when something does.”

  I debated for a moment. I could easily tell her not to worry about it, that I had some place else to stay. But if Charlie rescinded the offer, or if something happened that prevented me from staying with him, I’d be screwed. I could at least use the reservation as a backup, if they found me a room. “That would be great. Thank you very much.”

  She smiled again. “I wish I had better news.”

  “Not your fault. Just call me when one comes up.”

  “Certainly.”

  Was it weird that I wasn’t pissed? I mean, anyone in their right mind would be. The
y’d be absolutely losing their shit. No one could blame them. I wasn’t exactly homeless, I could still go to my house if I wanted to. That wasn’t the point of this weekend, however. Then, I remembered that look in Charlie’s eye when he offered to share his room with me, and I couldn’t help but feel…relief. The fact was that the hotel was actually doing me a favor, while they had no clue. No room meant I could justify staying with Charlie.

  I couldn’t help smiling to myself as I made my way back to the hotel bar. Charlie was sitting there, idly stirring his drink with a straw, unaware that I was behind him. I watched him for a moment, remembering the last conversation he and I had before I essentially walked out of his life.

  “We could leave, go somewhere where no one knows us,” he said.

  “No,” I responded, already feeling the weight of impending adulthood at the age of eighteen. “I can’t go anywhere, Charlie, no matter how much I’d like to.”

  “But we could go to Michigan. Ann Arbor. You could go to the University of Michigan and play ball. Or even Ohio State.”

  “You know I can’t.”

  “No, I don’t. I don’t know why you feel the need to stay. I don’t know why you don’t want to be with me.”

  Those last words cut me. I did want to be with him, but I didn’t know how. How could I tell him at the time that coming out to my parents would devastate them. How could I tell him that my parents were ultraconservative? All anyone had to do was look at the names my parents had chosen for my sister and me. They were going through hell with Grace. Finding out that their only son was gay would kill them and destroy my family beyond what it already was.

  But he didn’t know any of that. No one did. It was my problem to deal with. Mine and my parents’. I couldn’t bring anyone else into it, and I certainly couldn’t tell anyone.

  I felt like I was literally being split in two, torn between what I wanted out of my own life and being with the man I loved, and this sense of familial obligation that I never asked for. No, everything I wanted had to be put on the back burner until Grace got better.

  I bowed my head into my hands, slowly shaking it. “I can’t do this anymore.”

  I heard a gasp and looked up. Charlie was looking at me, mouth open and eyes wide. “You can’t mean that.”