Cruise Control

by Sarah Mayberry

  Ben busied himself getting flutes from the cupboard, and Anna dumped her bag on the kitchen counter.

  “So how did it go with the hot stud? Or is that why you look so exhausted?” Danny asked as he flicked on another burner on the stove and poured olive oil into a frying pan.

  “It was fine. Great. But we decided it was probably best to end it. You know,” Anna said. She thought she did a creditable job of sounding casual, but Danny stopped what he was doing and stared at her.

  “Once more, with a little more feeling this time,” he suggested drily.

  She shrugged, darting a glance at Ben as he poured the champagne. “It’s over. I really don’t want to talk about it.”

  Danny looked as though he was about to argue the point, but Ben tactfully started asking about Bali, and conversation soon fell to comparing Asian holiday destinations. They were carrying their bowls of pasta across to the table when Danny spotted the brochure in her bag.

  “Hey, what’s this?” he asked, sliding the glossy pages free.

  “What? Oh, yeah. I’m buying a motorbike,” she explained as she pulled out a chair.

  Danny frowned. “This is a Ducati, Anna. Do you have any idea how fast these things go? And how much they cost?”

  “Sure. Why do you think I want one?” she said, smiling at Ben as he passed her the parmesan cheese and pepper mill.

  Danny sat down at the table and pushed the brochure toward her.

  “Twenty thousand dollars for a bike? Where are you going to get that kind of money?”

  “Danny,” Anna said, shooting Ben an embarrassed look.

  “Sorry, but this is important,” Danny said, his gaze remaining fixed on her.

  Finally she sighed, lifting a shoulder impatiently. “I have investments. I pulled in a pretty nice income when I was a lawyer, you know.”

  “Enough that you can afford to blow twenty grand on a bike when you’ve just started up a small business?”

  She rolled her eyes, stabbing her fork into her food. “Can we please change the record? It’s a beautiful bike, and I’ve always wanted to learn to ride. I don’t see the issue.”

  “I did the creative for the road authority’s awareness campaign on motorbikes last year. Do you have any idea how many motorcyclists are killed annually?”

  “You can get killed crossing the road, Danny. Or die slowly in a hospital bed. I’m happy to take my chances.”

  Danny stared at her for a long beat. “Please don’t get a bike.

  They’re dangerous. They’re stupid.”

  She just stared back at him.

  “At least promise me you’ll sleep on it a few weeks before you take the plunge,” he finally conceded.

  “Fine. I’ll sleep on it. Happy?”

  “No. Something’s going on, but I’m not going to try to drag it out of you if you don’t want to talk. That’s never worked with you.”

  She felt a pang at the hurt in Danny’s voice. It was true, she was reverting to Old Anna tactics, not telling him what was really going on in her world. But it was too hard to talk about right now. Too raw. Maybe, in a few weeks, a month maybe, she would be able to explain.

  “So, have you thought about how you’re going to tell Dad?” she asked, deliberately changing the subject.

  Danny shrugged a shoulder. “Just invite him over here like this, I guess,” he said. “Introduce him to Ben, get it over with.”

  “Mmm,” she said thoughtfully, privately appalled. It would be tantamount to slapping their father in the face with a dead fish.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. I just thought it might be easier if you did it on Dad’s turf. And without Ben there. Sorry, Ben, but I think Dad might find it a bit confronting, first off the bat. He’ll be fine with it, but if you’re there he’ll feel he has to put on an act….”

  “And that’s a bad thing?” Danny joked. She could see he felt sick about it, though.

  “I think you should listen to her,” Ben said quietly. “And, like I said before, you don’t have to do this yet.”

  “Yeah, I do. I don’t want to slink around pretending that we don’t exist. We’re better than that,” Danny said, and Anna had to look away from the love and passion in her brother’s eyes. If ever she’d had any doubts, that look killed them.

  She put her hand on Danny’s arm. “Do you want me to come with you? Even if I just wait out in the car?”

  She could see he was tempted, but Danny shook his head. “I’m a big boy. I should do this on my own.”

  “Well, the offer’s there if you need it. And think about what I said about doing it somewhere Dad is comfortable.”

  “Sure, thanks.”

  She didn’t push any further. Who was she to be offering anyone advice, anyway? She’d made such a mess of her own life. God, she wanted Marc so much that she felt hollow inside. Hollow and desperate.

  “Anna. Are you okay?” Danny asked suddenly.

  She realized she’d been staring at the table, and that her eyes were full of tears.

  “No. But I will be,” she assured him.

  If only she believed it. If only she didn’t crave Marc with every breath she took. Why did doing the right thing have to hurt so much?

  MARC HUNG UP the phone, frustrated as all get-out. He’d left half a dozen messages on Anna’s machine and mobile, he’d sent flowers, he’d sat out front at her apartment like a two-bit stalker—but it had been nearly a week since Bali and he still hadn’t been able to catch her. And he got the distinct feeling things would continue that way if she had her chops.

  He ran a hand over his face. How did you get through to someone who was determined to avoid you? And was he an idiot to even keep trying? Maybe he was just reading things into the time he’d spent with Anna. Just because he’d fallen head over heels in love with her—despite all his reasons not to—didn’t mean she felt the same. She’d called him arrogant more than once. Wasn’t it the height of arrogance to assume she felt the same as he did?

  But no matter what he said to himself, it didn’t stop the way he felt. Maybe it wasn’t rational. But he felt it in his gut, in his bones—that night in the pool, he’d looked into her eyes and her heart had been there. They had touched souls, not just body parts.

  He was pacing in his study, the same few squares of space that he’d been walking ever since he got back from Bali. As he turned on his heel, his eye slid over a shot of himself and Alison. It had been taken a few years ago at his sister’s birthday—

  That was it! Galvanized, Marc sprang for the keyboard on his laptop, clicking his tongue impatiently as the screen dragged itself back from sleep mode. Anna had a brother. Danny. She’d mentioned him several times. He even vaguely knew what the guy looked like. Fingers stabbing at the keyboard, he called up the online white pages and typed in Daniel Jackson. Three pages of listings came up and he stared at the screen in disgust. How to narrow it down? Screwing up his face, he tried to remember if Anna had ever mentioned where her brother lived, or what he did for a living. His expression cleared as their night at the hotel came back to him. She’d joked about Danny winning an award for a print advertising campaign. And she’d laughed over the fact that he’d caught a taxi to her place to collect her, even though his apartment was in Surry Hills, just five minutes from the hotel where the awards had been held.

  Tongue between his teeth, Marc typed the suburb into the search field to refine his selection. Then let out a big gust of air—there was one Daniel Jackson in Surry Hills, but “for privacy reasons” he’d requested a silent number.

  Marc swore, then grabbed the phone. He was dialing his personal assistant’s number when he realized it was nearly eleven. Slowly he put the phone down. He was a demanding boss, but not that demanding. He would have to wait until tomorrow, but it should be an easy matter of finding out from the awards organizers where Danny Jackson worked. And then he would have a conduit to Anna.

  Staring out the window at the dark night sky, Marc let himself r
emember what it felt like to kiss her, to be inside her, to hold her in his arms. He had to take a shot. He didn’t have a choice.

  DANNY’S HAND FELT DAMP as Anna slid hers into it and gave him a squeeze.

  “Okay, big breath, in we go,” she said as they walked up the garden path to their father’s house.

  Danny had called her the day after their dinner to take her up on her offer to come with him.

  “It might make me the world’s biggest pussy, but, hey, I’m gay. I’m supposed to be a big wuss,” he’d said.

  Anna didn’t think he was a wuss at all. She thought he was incredibly brave. There was no doubt that this would be the most difficult conversation of Danny’s life.

  “Hey! I didn’t know you were coming to the movies with us, sweetie,” their Dad said as he opened the front door and saw them both standing there. “Fantastic, the more the merrier.”

  It was a Thursday night, Danny and her father’s regularly scheduled movie night. He had his jacket in hand, and he stepped toward them, starting to pull the door closed behind him, ready to head off to the cinema complex.

  Danny shot Anna a panicked look. “Um, Dad. Do you think we could step inside for a moment?” she improvised.

  “Sure. You need to powder your nose or something?”

  Anna smiled, not wanting to worry her father unnecessarily. If she told him she wanted to talk to him, she knew what conclusion he’d jump to. He’d think it was about her being sick again, and she didn’t want to put him through that unnecessarily. And this was Danny’s news, not hers. She was just here to hold his hand, literally and figuratively.

  “Yeah,” she said. She could feel Danny’s tension as he followed her into the house. They stood awkwardly in the tidy living room, everything around them neat as a pin. Anna shot her eyes to Danny, and he grimaced nervously. Slowly their father seemed to realize that something was up.

  But before he could voice his concern, Danny turned to him. “Dad, there’s something I need to tell you,” he said. His voice quavered uncertainly, and Anna swallowed, anxiety tightening her own belly.

  In the car on the way over, Danny had joked that he’d come up with a foolproof way of breaking the news: Hey, Dad, I’m dying. Just kidding—I’m only gay.

  They’d laughed about it, because they’d needed to release the tension. But the truth was that there was no foolproof way.

  “Listen,” Danny started again. “You know how all these years you keep asking me when I’m going to settle down with one girl and stop playing the field?”

  Their father frowned. “Yeah?” Then his face cleared. “Danny—you’re not going to tell me you’ve got some girl pregnant?” he asked.

  Anna bit her lip. Danny looked anguished.

  “No. I haven’t got a girl pregnant. The thing is, Dad. All these years…I’m not really into girls, if you know what I mean.”

  There was a profound silence in the room. Their father looked baffled for a beat. Anna reached out to touch his forearm.

  “Are you saying…are you saying you’re gay, Danny?” he finally asked.

  Danny sucked in a big breath. “Yes. That’s what I’m saying. I’m gay.”

  The words seemed to resonate in the small space. Their father lifted a hand, then dropped it as though he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it.

  “For how long?” he finally asked. “How long have you known?”

  “Since high school, Dad. Since I was about fifteen.”

  Their father nodded, then turned to Anna, his face carefully blank. “And you’ve known all along?”

  “Pretty much,” she said.

  “Well.” He just stood there for a few more beats, and then he turned on his heel and exited the room.

  Anna gasped, her hand going to Danny’s arm as his shoulders sagged.

  “Shit!” Danny said. “Shit! That was just great. Gosh, I wonder why I’ve put off doing that for so many years?”

  He was crying, and he dashed the tears away angrily. Anna tried to pull him into her arms. “He was just shocked. He’ll come around.”

  “Will he? What’s a bet there won’t be any more cosy movie nights. My friend Phil’s father never touched him again once he came out, you know. Afraid it was catching, I guess.”

  Danny was working himself up into a state. Anna grabbed both his arms and gave him a shake. “Stop it! I’m going to go talk to him. He’s shocked. Give him a chance. You’ve been playing a part with him for years, Danny. Of course he’s going to need to adjust. Be fair.”

  She wasn’t sure if he heard her, but she left him and stepped into the hallway. Her father’s bedroom door was closed, and she tapped on it lightly.

  “Dad? Can I come in?”

  There was no answer, but she heard a muffled sound and realized that her father was crying. Without hesitation she pushed the door open. He was huddled on the edge of the bed, sobbing into his hands.

  “Dad!” she said. She hadn’t seen him this distressed for years. Not since her mother died.

  Sitting beside him, she slid her arm around his shoulders. “It doesn’t change anything. Danny’s still the same person he’s always been. He still loves you,” she said tentatively.

  Her father made an inarticulate sound, then lifted his tear-streaked face.

  “All these years with you kids. I’ve tried to make up for your mother not being around, to be mother and father. But I’ve obviously failed. All these years, and Danny was too scared to tell me the truth!”

  Anna stared at him. “You’re not upset that he’s gay?” she clarified.

  Her father bristled. “What sort of a bigot do you think I am? Danny’s my son. I’ll always love him, no matter what.”

  She almost laughed with relief. Her father was hurt that Danny hadn’t told him earlier! He wasn’t about to repudiate him for being gay.

  “Dad, Danny is out there in the living room right now thinking that you can’t handle the fact that he’s gay,” she explained carefully. “I think it would be great if you went out there and told him what you just told me.”

  “But that’s just stupid,” her dad said.

  “There’s a reason he’s held on to this for so long, Dad. He’s been so scared of what you would think.”

  “When have I ever said a thing against gays? Tell me?”

  “It’s not you. It’s everyone else. The kids at school when he was growing up. People on the streets sometimes. I’ve been with Danny and his friends when people have hung out car windows and screamed abuse at them. Hell, I’ve even been called a fag hag.”

  “That’s disgusting. You’re far too attractive to be a fag hag.”

  Anna choked back a laugh as her father surged to his feet.

  “Danny!” he called out imperatively as he left the room.

  She stayed where she was. This next bit they could do without her. Her eye fell on the ornate photo frame beside the bed. It was a photograph of her parents on their wedding day. She picked it up, smiling down at their youthful faces. They’d both been so young, just twenty and twenty-two. But, as her father had explained more than once over the years, they’d been in love, and nothing was going to stop them.

  She could see it in their faces, too, as they stared adoringly at each other. Her fingers clenched around the frame. Her father had never stopped loving her mother. She knew how it felt now, to love someone that much.

  Standing, she put the frame back on the bedside table. It had to get easier. It just had to.

  MARC TAPPED HIS FINGERS on his steering wheel, eyes glued to the entrance to the apartment block across the road. A grim smile twisted his lips. In the space of a few days, he’d been reduced to this—sitting out the front of Anna’s brother’s apartment, waiting like some desperate teen suitor. If he wasn’t so determined to win Anna around, it’d be funny.

  He sat up straighter as a black Mercedes pulled up at the front of the building. His pulsed quickened—it was Anna! He’d hoped to talk to her brother, but she was actually he
re, right now. Movements jerky, he shoved the car door open and shot out of the car. But he’d barely taken a step across the road before she was pulling away, leaving her brother to step into the building.

  Marc hesitated, staring after the receding lights of her car. God, it was good just to see her, even just a glimpse. He shook his head at his own thoughts. Man, did he have it bad or what? Maybe the desperate-teen analogy hadn’t been too far off after all.

  Squaring his shoulders, he headed across the road. He knew what apartment number her brother lived in now, where he worked, what car he drove. It had only taken twenty-four hours to find out the essentials. He took the steps to the second floor and counted off the doors until he found apartment two-twenty. Determined, he knocked briskly.

  Danny opened the door, and he could see another man standing in the background, a bottle of wine and a corkscrew in hand. He knew from what Anna had said that her brother was gay, so he didn’t bat an eyelid.

  “Danny, you don’t know me, but I need your help—”

  “I know you,” Danny said, cutting him off midflow. “You’re Marc Lewis.”

  “Anna’s spoken about me?” he asked, hope surging.

  “Not lately, no,” Danny said, a distinctly cool note entering his voice. “You must have stuffed up pretty badly.”

  Marc realized this was his chance, here and now.

  “I love her. And I think she loves me. But she broke it off, and she won’t return my calls,” he said, aware there was raw need in his voice, but not having the time or energy to be embarrassed about it. There were bigger, more important fish to fry.

  “Ah,” Danny said as though he’d just found the vital piece of a puzzle. “I see.” He turned to the blond guy with the wine bottle, obviously gauging his opinion. When he turned back, he stepped away from the door.

  “Perhaps you’d better come in,” he said. “I’m not promising anything, mind, but Anna’s been pretty miserable lately.”

  Marc ducked his head in acknowledgment. Passing inside, he prepared to put his case forward—someone had to help him get through to Anna.