by Jerry Cole
“Serving dinner. Picking up behind him. Those kinds of things?”
“Sometimes. Mostly, it’s Josh who is always looking out for me. I feel a little useless half of the time, to be honest.”
“Useless?”
“I have panic attacks and anxiety disorder. I had some traumatic events when I was younger and I pretty much shut down for a while. But thanks to Friendly, I manage to get out when I need to, and Josh is good at finding things we can do together that won’t leave me curled in the fetal position, drooling like an idiot.”
“So, you’re like...the girlfriend.”
“No, I’m definitely the boyfriend.”
Harold lifted his eyebrows at that and shook his head.
“I doubt that, young man. I heard you two. You are definitely the girlfriend.”
I took a deep breath, trying not to let my annoyance show. I honestly hadn’t even thought much about these kinds of things until I fell in love with Josh. Josh was gay. He knew that. But I was still an enigma, even to myself. All I knew was that I trusted Josh. I loved him and I liked the person he inspired me to be.
“Mr. Green, neither one of us is the girlfriend. He is my boyfriend, and I am his.”
He nodded and turned his attention to the plate that I’d brought from the kitchen.
“I wasn’t sure what you would like,” I explained. “So, I just followed the meal plan on the fridge.”
“That fucking thing. If cancer doesn’t kill me the fucking diet will,” he spat.
“Well, you don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to. I just don’t want Josh to blame me for not trying to keep you fed while he was gone,” I said.
Harold’s expression became pained, almost as if I’d punched him in the ribs.
“Are you okay? You look a little green in the gills? Should I call your doctor?”
Harold shook his head.
“Let me ask you something? How many boyfriends have you had?”
I sat down on the ottoman beside Harold’s chair and took a deep breath.
“He is my first boyfriend.”
Harold’s eyes grew wide and his chin quivered slightly.
“Did you ever… I mean, were you ever…normal?”
“Normal? You mean have I ever had sex with women?”
He swallowed hard, steeling himself for whatever bad news my answer would represent for him.
“Yes, I have. I just didn’t date anybody seriously.”
I thought, perhaps, that Mr. Green would be relieved by that fact. Instead he seemed more disturbed than ever by my admission.
"Josh talked you into this?"
"What?" I was clueless about what had upset him so suddenly. I could only guess that he thought his domineering son had ordered me to babysit while he was out. "No! I wanted to stay here with you. He nev—”
"He does that, you know?"
I was at a loss. I wasn't sure what he was talking about but I was getting the impression that I wasn't going to like it.
"They do that. They meet some young guy, somebody who needs a friend or a little encouragement and they groom him. Make him feel good like he belongs. Then they get him involved in all kinds of things. I never thought any son of mine would ever be like that. But…"
As hurtful as his words were, I was struck by the intense sadness in his face. This wasn't the face of a man who hated his son. This was the face of a man who loved his son and felt that he'd failed him in some way. I fought the urge to respond aggressively and tried to rely on reason. Maybe if he knew the facts he would think differently.
"Josh didn't groom me. He's not the first man I've been with. He's just the first person, male or female, that I've had a real relationship with."
“You think you’re the first?”
“I know he’s had relationships before. He’s had plenty of past lovers, but that’s the past.”
Harold scoffed, and then choked. I waited patiently for him to recover.
“Past lovers? That’s rich. You call what you people do love?”
“Love is the reason why I got on a plane and came all this way. And love is the reason why I am sitting here with a sick man who isn’t any relation to me. Taking care of each other, putting somebody else’s need first, that’s love right?”
Harold nodded.
“I suppose so. But I’m telling you, be careful of my son. As soon as you stop looking so young, he’ll be on to the next one.”
I was still at a loss. Wasn’t Harold supposed to defend his son? No matter what mistakes he made in the past, parents were usually the last ones to admit to themselves how bad their son’s behavior truly was. Instead, Harold was warning me to stay away. It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. What could Josh have done to make his father so convinced that he was a bad guy?
“What makes you so sure?”
“I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”
“Seen what?”
“I’ve seen him. Ask him about a boy named Patrick. If he doesn’t want to tell you, you come back and ask me.”
“What does Patrick have to do with any of this?”
“Ask him. Ask him what he did to that boy.”
“I met Patrick already. He didn’t seem to be upset with Josh at all.”
“Hmph,” Harold shook his head again and picked up the bowl of soup I’d put in front of him. “Just ask him. Ask him how he tricked that boy up into his room and what he did to him once he got him there. Then come and talk to me. I know you think I’m a bigoted old bastard, and that may be true. But I still know right from wrong. I think you’re probably a good kid. A little mixed up and confused about a lot of things, but I’m telling you, staying with my son won’t help you. Find a nice girl, settle down and have some kids of your own. It’s not too late to have a normal life.”
I was about to tell him that what Josh and I had was normal, and that he’s already helped me come so far. I wanted to tell him that I wasn’t a kid being seduced by a dirty old man in the back of a van. I was a grown man and even if Josh and I were to break up it would be for anyone of the many reasons why any couple breaks up. But, as soon as I opened my mouth to speak the front door opened.
“Ask him,” Harold grunted.
“Ask me what?” Josh came around the corner looking slightly flushed and very pleased with himself.
“Nothing,” I said. “We can talk later. Did you get it?”
“They’ll deliver it this evening; now ask me what you wanted.”
“It’s nothing, really,” I insisted.
He was obviously unconvinced but clamped his mouth shut anyway. We would talk later.
“Your girlfriend wants to know about Patrick and what you did to him.”
Josh’s face clouded over and he snarled at the older man.
“You watch your mouth!” Josh’s voice was barely louder than a whisper but it felt like it echoed off of the walls.
“It's okay, he’s just trying to get a rise out of me,” I pushed on Josh’s chest, trying to get him to focus on me and not the man casually eating soup in a beat-up old recliner.
“He doesn’t have to. He can get one out of me instead.”
“Ha! That’s got to be some kind of joke. Homo-humor.”
Josh took another step forward, easily resisting my efforts to keep the situation cool. The threat of violence was written all over his face. My heart was pounding and a sharp metallic taste coated my tongue, though I knew I wasn’t bleeding.
“Stop it!” I was shocked by my own response. My hands were shaking as I pushed on Josh’s chest again. This time he gave in, backing up slowly without taking his eyes off of his father.
“Did you get the chair?”
He tilted his head and finally looked at me.
“Are you okay?”
He ran a hand over my head before putting both hands on his hips.
“I’m fine. Did you get it?”
“Yeah, I got it. I told you I got it.”
“Good, let’s
focus on that.”
“I told you to come with me. You shouldn't have to put up with his bullshit.”
“It was fine. Nothing I can’t handle. Besides, what is he going to do to me? He’s a sick old man. He needs our help. Even if he wanted to kick my ass, he’s hardly in any position to do that now.”
I kissed his chin and hugged him.
“We are going to have to talk about the Patrick situation,” I said.
“We are?”
“You can tell me or you can wait until your father spills the beans. Either way, I think it’s going to come out one way or the other.”
Chapter Twelve
Josh
I sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for Ian to come out of the shower. I’d been thinking about it all afternoon, but I didn’t have any good answers. I didn’t want to tell this story. I wasn’t ready to face it. Maybe that was one of the reasons why I never came home, even after I graduated.
I watched him come into the bedroom that had been mine when I was a kid. His wet hair and freshly shaven face reminded me of just how young I had once been in this room. He looked like the boyfriend that I should’ve brought home during spring breaks and summer vacations. Somehow, having him here now made all of the disappointments and anger that I felt in this house seem less relevant. I have new memories now. I have memories of my Ian in my bed, looking out of my window, and wrapped around my body as we slept.
I didn’t want to lose any of that. I didn’t want this place to taint him but there was no way to give him the answers he needed without risking it all.
“You look worried,” he said.
I grabbed his hands and looked up into his green eyes.
“Do you trust me?”
“Of course. How could I be here if I didn’t?”
I leaned against him, pressing my forehead against his chest. He cradled my head against his body and stroked my hair, trying to comfort me when I knew I was minutes away from destroying his image of me.
“Patrick Dunlevy is the son of the richest family in town,” I wrapped my arms around his body as I spoke, keeping my eyes closed so I didn’t have to face him. “He was shy but people were attracted to him anyway. He had a great smile.”
“You two dated.” He’d already figured that much.
“More than that. He was my first love. I mean my first real love. He chased me for a while, discreetly, but once I finally figured out he was serious, I fell hard. I fell….so, so, hard. He was everything in the world to me. We had plans to get out of here and go to the same college. We’d get scholarships to cover tuition. We would rent an apartment together and we’d both work part-time to support ourselves. As long as we weren’t dependent on our parents for money, we could be free. We could be a normal couple and have anniversary parties and hold hands in public.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing. I didn’t think so. Neither did he. But not everybody felt that way.”
“Okay?”
“So, one day after school the weather was cold so I suggested we go and hang out at my house. My dad wouldn’t be home for a couple of hours. Janet has cheerleading practice. We could be alone for a while.”
Ian stiffened.
“I can see where this is going,” he said.
“No, you can’t. If it was just a case of getting caught making out with my boyfriend, that would’ve been bad enough. But it went so much worse than that.”
Ian continued to stroke my head, coaxing me to continue telling my story.
“We were in my room. In this room. It wasn’t my first time, but it was the first time with somebody I loved. It was his first time, though. It was really special to me even though he wasn’t the first. He was the most meaningful.”
“You really loved him.”
I nodded.
“I really did.”
“So, what happened?”
I took a deep breath and continued talking.
“It was a mess. My dad just lost it. He got violent. I didn’t even think about defending myself. I just held on to him until it was all over. I was too afraid to let him go. I was afraid he’d hurt him. He doesn’t look like it now, but back then he was a skinny little guy. My dad would’ve broken him in half.”
“You’re always trying to be a hero,” Ian said.
“I told him that we were in love. I said all the stupid shit you’d think a teenaged boy in love would say. I was a fool.” I pulled myself out of his arms and forced myself to look him in the face. He sat down beside me and took my hand.
“How so?”
“When it was all over, his dad and my dad had a meeting. They asked him about us. And do you know what he said?”
Ian held his breath. It was so subtle that I doubted he even knew he was doing it.
“He didn’t say he loved you,” he guessed.
“Worse than that. He told them that he was confused. I’d been chasing him for months and he didn’t really know how to get rid of me. He said I’d coerced him, or seduced him, or whatever word he used. He used the notes I’d passed to him in the hallways as proof that I’d been obsessing over him.”
“Wow.”
“His dad went through the roof. He threatened to put me in jail for what I did to his son.”
“But you were both minors, right?”
“I was seventeen. That was the only thing that saved my ass. Although, I was close enough. If he’d put some pressure on the prosecutor, he could’ve had me tried as an adult. Luckily, he didn’t want to tell people that his son got taken advantage of by some older boy. So, he struck a deal with my dad.”
“They sent you away.” Ian’s heartbroken look was almost more than I could bear. He looked like he was on the verge of tears.
“They sent me to military school. I think they were hoping the discipline would march the queer right out of me, but all it did was make me stronger.”
He looked at me with love and longing in his eyes. I would’ve given anything to have him look at me like that forever.
"He said I forced myself on him, Ian. We had just... It was his first time, so his body was…He had proof, you know. His skin is so fair, and we weren’t very careful. There were marks all over his body. It just didn’t look good."
"What did your dad say?"
"What could he say? He saw us together."
"Yeah, but it was consensual. I mean, he could tell, right?"
I wanted to laugh but there was nothing funny about the situation.
"All he heard was the moaning. He said it sounded like crying. I put my body between him and Patrick and by the time he was done raging Patrick really was crying. But not because I raped him. I need you to know that. I never hurt him. He wasn't my victim."
"Harold didn't believe you?"
"Who was he going to believe, me or his own eyes? Especially since sweet, innocent Patrick Dunlevy was crying about being confused and telling everybody who asked that it wasn't his idea."
“Jerk.”
I watched Ian’s look of pity turn into righteous indignation.
“You know, you’re the first person who has ever taken my side in this? You are the only person who ever took my word over his, without question.”
He leaned against my shoulder.
“I know you. You won’t lie to me. If you say it was that way, then I believe you.”
I kissed the top of his head, feeling slightly giddy. I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear those words until that moment. I needed to hear him say that I wasn’t the monster I’d been made out to be. Tears stung my eyes, but I didn’t let them fall.
“Let’s get to bed, we have a long day ahead of us,” I said.
“It’s self-inflicted,” he teased. “You just can’t sit still. Everything back home is going fine and you still managed to find a new project out here.”
“I just need something to keep my hands busy. You know what they say, idle hands are the devil’s playground.”
“There’s pl
enty of things around here that could use your attention, Josh,” he whined. He was right. There were plenty of small repairs that I could be doing, but I was reluctant to put my hands to work in this house.
“The old man would flip.”
“Maybe not. He might actually thank you. I’m sure that he would’ve gotten around to a lot of these things if he wasn’t sick. What’s the point of being here to help him if you aren’t going to actually help him?”
“I just don’t want him to die alone,” I admitted. “He’s an ass, but nobody should die like that.”
“Maybe he won’t die. He might still live.”
I scowled.
“Are you hoping for that?”
“I am holding on to hope. That’s the best medicine. He might still have a few more years left in him.”
I sighed, feeling the pressure building in my chest again.
“I honestly don’t know how I feel about that,” I smiled to keep from crying. “I don’t know if I want him dead and gone or if I’m hoping that he has enough time to turn things around.”
“Turn around?”
“You know, since that day my father has never looked at me? When he looks at me, he doesn’t see me. He sees all of the men that he was told were bad and dangerous. When I do anything, he doesn’t see my accomplishments. He only sees the man Patrick made me out to be. A rapist. A predator. I don’t care if he accepts that I’m gay or not. I’m gay. There’s nothing either of us can do about that. But I’m not a criminal. If any person should know that it should be the man who raised me.”
Ian took my face in his hands and pressed his lips to mine. It felt like he was kissing a wound that refused to become a scar.
Chapter Thirteen
Ian
Hospitals have never been my favorite places. They are supposed to be places of healing, but they make me nervous. I sat in the waiting room, waiting for Harold to finish his treatment. I’d been there for nearly an hour already and I was getting anxious. Josh was busy that afternoon, building a gazebo or something for a neighbor. He didn’t need the money but it kept his hands busy, and that was how he was coping with the stress of the situation.
“Okay, see you next week,” the nurse who wheeled him out looked like she should’ve been a patient. She was clearly nearing retirement age but had no intention of slowing down.
