Headlights approached, the car slowing as it neared. Daniel had seen the same thing enough times to know more or less how things would go. The car would stop beside him, the window would come down, and some troll would offer him money for a blowjob. A few wanted to blow him. But unless the john wanted to pay for a hotel room too, more than that in a car was way too risky.
Having sex for a living wasn’t as much fun as he’d first thought it would be. The excitement had worn off pretty quick, giving way to sheer terror when he’d been arrested. But once he got the hang of performing on command, well…. Truth be told, having sex with strangers was just another job. Sometimes living up to expectations was easy, and sometimes it wasn’t. Either way, pleasing the client was still work.
As the car slipped into the puddle of light from a solitary streetlight, Daniel noticed a square hood ornament embellished with a four-pointed star and the pale yellow color of the sleek vehicle. Unlike other cars, the handles were side by side so the doors opened away from each other like french doors. Though he’d never really paid much attention to cars, this one impressed him.
The yellow car drifted toward the curb a few feet shy of where Daniel stood, waiting. As it neared, he could make out the silver script across the tail. Continental. He inhaled his lungs full of smoke and flipped his cigarette into the slush. The passenger side window came down and Daniel got his first glimpse of the driver.
“You need a ride? Nobody needs to be out walking in this weather.”
The deep drawl came from a handsome man with a dimpled chin, an angular jaw, and a showstopping smile. Not his typical client at all. Daniel placed his forearms on the door and peered into the car for a closer look.
“No, sir. Thank you. Just stretching my legs.”
The gorgeous man winked and Daniel’s heart skipped a beat. “Can I at least buy you a Coke or something? My favorite diner stays open until midnight. Maybe you’d like something to eat?” He wore a light blue dress shirt with a loosened tie, a button undone at the neck and the sleeves rolled up.
Nice arms, and what about his Southern accent? Daniel thought about Terrence back at the shelter. He’d say work came first. They were saving to get a place together and needed the money.
“Yes, sir,” Daniel said. “I’d like that.”
Chapter Five
PHILIP SQUINTED, unsure where he was. The morning sun streamed through the window, dazzling his eyes. He rolled onto his back and his arm fell off the side of a twin-sized bed. He sat up and shifted his bare feet to the floor, surprised to be in the pajamas he wore. Before any question could form in his mind, the answer came.
James was dead.
A barrage of images from their life together flickered through his mind like slides in a Carousel Projector run in reverse. A red-bowed package tumbling into the street. Flashing lights and a street filled with police cars. James dancing a solo at his last recital. Helping James with his homework. Finding him walking the streets like the puppies and kittens Philip had rescued when he was growing up.
Had he been in his own bed, he’d lay back down and pull the covers over his head to return to dreams where James still lived. But this wasn’t his apartment. Across the room was another twin bed, this one empty. A tangled heap of superhero sheets trailed from the bed and onto the floor. Philip noticed men in tights on his sheets too. He didn’t need to see the little redheaded boy in Superman pajamas poking his head into the room to know where he was. Until the arrival of the baby brother or sister Mary and Alex wanted, Philip often spent the night in that twin bed, waking up half the time to find Thad nestled up against him.
Thad stopped a half step inside the door, uncertainty in his jade-green eyes, waiting for a cue.
Philip’s face lit up—an involuntary response triggered by the presence of his precious nephew. “Good morning, Thad. Merry Christmas.”
Thad didn’t move. He stood with his hands behind his back and a sympathetic expression on his almost four-year-old face. “Mommy said not to wish you Merry Christmas because Uncle James is in heaven.”
Speechless, Philip opened his arms. Thad ran across the room and leaped onto his lap. Tears streamed down Philip’s cheeks as Thad wrapped his little arms around his neck and squeezed. Philip held him close and thanked the universe for the closest thing he would ever have to a son of his own. Here was a reason to live—his link to the future. Someone who’d always need his love. “Thank you, Thad.” He fumbled for a handkerchief, but wiped the tears from his face with his pajama sleeve when he came up empty-handed. “What did Santa Claus bring you?”
Thad jumped from his lap and ran to the door. “Oh, Uncle Philip, wait ’til you see my new fire truck!”
PHILIP SAT in the white Ford Fairlane as his sister drove, tapping his foot in time to “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree.” She kept both hands on the wheel and focused her attention on the icy road.
Spending Christmas morning at his sister’s home had always been the plan. After what happened Christmas Eve, it also happened to have been the right thing to do. Thad had shown him the value of staying in the moment. Playing with him had forced Philip to stop dwelling on things he might have done or not done the day before. To get through this, he couldn’t worry about a history he couldn’t change and a future he couldn’t predict.
“Thank you for coming to my rescue,” Philip said.
“That’s what big sisters do.” Brenda Lee’s voice faded as Mary turned down the radio. “Besides, I was only returning the favor. Our five-year age difference never kept you from watching after me like a big brother would have. Momma said you were born potty-trained and, by your fourth birthday, acted like you were thirty years old.”
Philip laughed. “I remember her teasing me about being nine going on forty. Poor Momma.” He snorted. “Good thing we could take care of ourselves.”
“Mostly. Good thing we had each other to lean on during some rough years.” Mary paused for a long moment. “Now that I’m married with a child of my own, I’m more sympathetic.” She glanced at Philip. “If something happened to Alex, I’d drink all the time too.”
“Nonsense!” Philip knew better. “And if Momma had your confidence or a tiny fraction of your courage, she wouldn’t have either.”
“Who can say?” Mary shrugged. “We were children. No telling what she was keeping from us.” She pushed her hair back from her face with one hand. “Being a widow with two kids to feed is no easy feat.”
He leaned back in his seat. “Fear that she couldn’t take care of us after Daddy died prevented her from even trying.” He turned to her. “She took the easy way out and left us to fend for ourselves.”
Sadness crossed Mary’s face. “She did the best she knew how to do. We all do.”
Philip wasn’t sure he agreed. Some people, he’d observed, knew better and still made bad choices. He decided not to say anything. That discussion could wait for another day. He knew where Mary’s mind had gone. She wasn’t immune to fear. On several occasions, she’d confessed she didn’t know the first thing about being a mother and was terrified she’d mess up her child beyond repair.
He slid across the wide bench seat and kissed her cheek. “You’re doing a great job as a mother, as I knew you would.”
“Do you really think so?” Her eyes met his but returned quickly to the road. “I worry I’m not strict enough, or maybe too strict. Who knows? We won’t see how I’ve damaged him for another fifteen or twenty years.”
“As your child’s uncle and godfather, I assure you I wouldn’t stand by and let you mess up. You and Alex are doing a great job. If I didn’t believe Thad was in good hands, I’d never let him out of my sight and would be accompanying you to Italy.” Philip’s brother-in-law worked for the State Department and had accepted a two-year assignment with the American Embassy in Milan. Mary and Thad were going along. They’d booked passage on an ocean liner departing from Baltimore on New Year’s Eve.
She laughed. “I’d feel a lot better a
bout the trip if you were coming along. Are you sure you don’t want to go?”
Oh, he wanted to go all right. He’d cried for three straight days after she told him they were going. Not being able to talk to Mary whenever he wanted would be bad enough. The idea of all the time he’d miss spending with Thad was almost unbearable. And now… without James. He forced himself to focus on the positive—to stay in the moment. He had his career at the museum, and Mary had a husband. The trip would be good for their marriage.
“I wish I could go. You’ve always been behind me, backing me up when the going got rough and pushing me forward when I needed it. I don’t know where I’d be without you.” Fearing he might cry, he paused for a moment. “I’m going to miss you like crazy, and I can’t stop thinking James would still be here if even one person in his family had been more like you.”
Mary’s gaze left the road for a moment, and Philip saw concern in her eyes—the same green as Thad’s. She returned her attention to driving and cleared her throat. “James taking his own life is not your fault. He knew you loved him.”
“I know.” Philip gazed out the window at the snow-covered cars lining the street. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he chose his words. “My first thoughts, once the shock wore off, revolved around things I’d have done differently.”
“Hindsight is always twenty-twenty. You can’t beat yourself up for something you couldn’t have known.”
“Of course you’re right.” He sat in silence, thinking back to when he’d first met James. He’d seen him walking alone in the rain. Something about the slowness of his pace and the dejected slump of his shoulders caused Philip to stop and ask if he was okay. His sad, puppy-dog eyes had pierced Philip to the core. “His vulnerability attracted me like a moth to a flame. He needed me. Taking care of him made me happy.”
Philip thought about the tiny, roach-infested apartment he’d lived in at the time and how little he’d had to give. He’d slept on the floor rather than allowing James to do so, refusing to share a bed until he’d turned eighteen. “He was so young. I wanted to protect him, to keep the world from destroying his fragile beauty.”
His thoughts drifted. From the very first day, he’d gone without when there hadn’t been enough for two, happy to give whatever he had to James. And all he’d ever expected in return was for James to finish high school so he could pursue his dreams.
That wasn’t true. Staying alive had always topped his list of expectations for James. If Philip had a dime for every time James had threatened to kill himself, they’d have had the money for his ballet lessons.
He shrugged. “The end was destined from the beginning. It couldn’t have ended any other way.”
She nodded. “Like James in La Sylphide.”
Mary had gone with Philip and James to a performance of the tragic ballet. The three of them had sobbed throughout the entire second act. Tears still welled up whenever he heard parts of the score.
“Why do you blame yourself?”
The question surprised him. He clenched his hands on his chest as if in prayer. “I failed, Mary. I promised James I’d always be there for him, that I’d never let anything happen to him.”
Mary pulled off the road into an empty liquor store parking lot and stopped the car. She took his hand in hers. “You can’t follow someone around every minute of every day to make sure they don’t kill themselves. It’s not your fault he finally succeeded.”
He squeezed her hand. “I know, I know. Keeping him alive gave my life purpose. Taking care of him made me happy. I’m never going to marry, have children, raise a family.”
She slid a hand up to his shoulder, and her jade-green eyes peered into his. “Need is not a foundation for a strong relationship. You can’t be equal partners when the other person needs you to take care of him.”
Her words hit home. When push came to shove, Philip always got his way. He was older, and hence, had the final word. James’s vote only counted when it didn’t stand in the way of what Philip wanted. “I need to be needed.”
Mary frowned. “You can’t carry your weakness for helpless strays and orphans into your love life. Get a dog. Find a cause. Volunteer at the hospital. Then maybe you can fall in love with an equal partner instead of a project who needs you to survive.” She put the car in gear and edged back into traffic.
Philip didn’t respond. Mary’s tendency toward directness sometimes bordered on rude. Though it didn’t keep him from being a little pissed, she was right. She could have waited a few days, but he understood her desire to say her piece while they were together instead of in a letter from overseas. He reached over and squeezed her knee. “I don’t know what I’m going to do while you’re in Italy.”
She patted his hand. “You’ll survive. Two years will pass by before you know it. Don’t forget, you promised to visit, and I promise to read all your letters to Mathew and help him write back, maybe even in Italian.”
“You mean Thad.”
She groaned. “Do we have to have this discussion again?”
“I thought not, but you keep calling him Mathew. The world is not set up for people who go by a middle name.”
“You don’t need to worry. When I call him Mathew, he stomps his foot and uses his angry voice to ask how many more times he’s going to have to tell me his name is Thad.”
Philip laughed. “That eases my mind about him being gone for a while.”
“He adores you, and I don’t see that changing.”
“I hope not,” Philip said. “I can’t imagine how much you must love him. I fell head over heels in love with him even before he was born. Even so, I had no idea how seeing him for the first time would hit me.”
“Yes, I remember.” Mary laughed. “You were crying so hard you couldn’t talk. I was afraid you’d noticed something wrong with him I’d somehow missed.”
“That’s the only time I’ve ever truly been speechless,” Philip said. “Seeing your eyes, Daddy’s chin, Momma’s nose, and that gorgeous hair… some primal instinct took over and I knew I would do anything for him.”
“And we appreciate it.” She pulled up in front of his apartment and stopped.
Everything seemed the same as it had two days ago. Nothing hinted at the ugly scene he’d stumbled upon the day before—like it hadn’t happened at all. Everything looking so normal struck him as surreal.
“Are you sure you want to do this by yourself? I’d feel a lot better if you’d let me come with you.” Her face matched the anxious tone in her voice.
Philip stepped onto the sidewalk. “No, thank you. You’ve done enough. I need some time to think about what I’m going to do.” He closed the car door and stepped back. “Get home to your husband and your beautiful son.”
“Remember, I’m only a phone call away.” She blew him a kiss. “I love you, Philip.”
Philip waved as Mary drove off. Then he took a deep breath and made his way up the stairs to his second-floor apartment. No leaping two or three steps at a time today. He took them one by one. Every step required more effort than the one before.
The door to his apartment stood ajar, and the pungent smell of spray paint hit his nose. He stepped into his living room and gasped. Drips of black trailed from each crude letter of the rude word scrawled across the living room wall.
FAGGOTS
Chapter Six
PHILIP STARED at the ugly word, recalling what James had told him about similar acts of vandalism by the police. He felt violated, and because he had no recourse, defeated. Law enforcement was more often a problem than a solution for homosexuals. Sodomy was illegal across the country. Serving alcohol to known homosexuals was against the law in New York and, judging from all the raids, may as well have been illegal in DC. The mere suspicion one might be homosexual led to brutal, often deadly assaults. If the police hadn’t instigated things themselves, they’d join the fun.
He surveyed the apartment. The Christmas tree lay in a heap of shattered glass and knotted tins
el. The contents of busted drawers covered overturned chairs with broken legs and splintered seats. Judging from the mess he saw in the hall, both bedrooms and the bathroom had been ransacked too.
“Are you all right?”
Startled, Philip spun around, drawing a blank until he recognized the man who’d helped him the evening before. “We meet again. I’m embarrassed to say I can’t remember your name.”
“Perfectly understandable, given the circumstances.” He grinned and offered his hand. “Beauregard Carter. Call me Beau.”
The scene around him was overwhelming. The shock of finding the man who had come to his rescue the night before in his apartment today unsettled him. Unable to raise his hand, Philip took in the desecrated apartment. Losing James had been bad enough. Now this. He fought back tears.
“I’m really sorry.” Beau put his arm across Philip’s shoulder and squeezed. “I came to check on you this morning and found the place like this. I’ve been watching for you to come home. You should have called me.”
Philip backed away to satisfy a sudden and desperate need for space. He didn’t remember until then that Beau’s phone number was in his wallet. He thought he’d regained control of his emotions until he tried to talk. “I thought I could… that I should… do this… by myself. But now….”
“Now you won’t have to. I’m here to help you.” Beau scanned the apartment and glanced at the ugly word sprayed on the wall. “At least the word is spelled correctly.”
No Good Deed Page 3
