“What’s your story?”
“Upstate New York. Also cold. Also a lot of snow. Also don’t miss it. Also gay. But I do have a boyfriend, just not right now.”
“What does that mean?” he asked, seeming genuinely interested. “Is he that hunk that comes in here sometimes?”
“Which one?”
“Well, not St. James. He’s straight, from what I heard. So the only other one is the black-haired guy.”
“That’s him. Bill. I have a great boyfriend, as best as I can remember. He’s had a pretty hectic schedule this fall at school and with work. And now he’s in Australia for work for the entire break. He doesn’t fly back home until just before the next quarter begins.”
“Major bummer, dude!”
“No shit!”
“So what are you doing on the twenty-fifth?”
“Sitting by the pool and reading, most likely. Gonna treat it like any other day, but also a day off. You?”
“You have a pool?”
“Yeah. The apartment we rent is behind a big house that has a beautiful pool. The owner doesn’t use it, so she told us if we cleaned it we could use it all we wanted. I’ll probably spend the day reading. And maybe do something decadent like take a nap.”
“Sometime I want to see this pool. Remember, I live in a dorm right now, which definitely doesn’t have a pool option.”
“Why don’t you come over on the twenty-fifth, and we’ll sit by the pool and grill some burgers or something.”
He nodded while he mulled over the idea. “Sure, why not. What time?”
“I’m not going anywhere that day, so whenever you want to. I’m going to sleep in, read, maybe take a nap—you’ve just heard my entire plan for the day.”
Neither one of us was originally on the schedule to work the next day, Christmas Eve, but so many people had called in that our boss begged us to help out. Since neither of us had any real plans, we both agreed to work. We didn’t have a clue what to expect in terms of business flow for Christmas Eve. It would be nice if it were steady but not overwhelming. Neither one of us had any confidence in everyone scheduled to work actually showing up, so we were prepared, mentally at least, to be at work the whole day. We were both grateful that our store was closing early, at 5:00 p.m., since it was Christmas Eve.
Eventually, we each crawled home and were back at work at six the next morning, ready to cheerily greet customers and give them what they wanted efficiently and with a smile. That’s what we did; I can’t speak to what others did. We had a busy morning, and then after noon business began to taper off. Toward the end there was no one coming in, so we were all cleaned up and everything was prepared when 5:00 p.m. rolled around and we could head home. We were out the door at 5:05 with plans to meet up at my place sometime the next day. I gave Slatter the address and rough directions from where we worked—it wasn’t that far.
That night at home was one of the worst of the entire time Bill had been away. I had expected that Bill would call frequently while he was gone, but they were in a very remote location so cell service sucked. The studio was bringing in some service, but even wired service was hard to come by where they were. So not only was I alone on Christmas Eve, but I also couldn’t even talk with my boyfriend by telephone.
I microwaved something for dinner and spent an hour reading before crawling into bed early. Over the last two days, I had worked an incredible number of hours, so I was physically beat and needed to catch up on my sleep.
The next morning, Christmas morning, dawned bright, sunny, and clear. We lived in a fairly sheltered little area, but usually you could hear sounds of the city if you listened for them—traffic sounds, buses, things like that. But that morning was completely quiet. The only sounds I heard when I stepped outside were birds singing in the trees. I don’t know what they were so happy about. Maybe they sang like this every morning and I just hadn’t paid attention until now.
I made some toast for breakfast and lay on the sofa reading for a while until the temperature outside warmed up enough to sit out there comfortably. By midmorning, I moved outside to a table by the pool. I had put the umbrella down so that I could soak up the sun while I read.
About eleven o’clock I heard something, and looked up to see Slatter walking along the driveway toward our apartment. I waved when I saw him and motioned him over. The look on his face was incredible. I wish I could have taken a picture.
“This is where you live?” he said with a bit of incredulity.
“Welcome to our humble little abode.”
“I don’t care about the abode—but this view! Amazing, dude!” Everyone somewhere else assumed that everyone in California lived right on the water and had a great view of the Pacific Ocean. In reality, only a tiny, tiny, tiny fraction of the people who lived in California could see the water from where they lived. So I guess we were very fortunate to have the Pacific in easy viewing distance.
While Slatter studied the view, I got him a glass of iced tea, telling him he had no choices on flavors. If he wanted choices he needed to go to Starbucks and tell someone tomorrow! My menu was shorter than the one at work. He was quite happy with what I brought to him. Usually when I saw Slatter, I saw him in long pants and a long-sleeved shirt. Today, however, he was wearing shorts and a T-shirt. And I have to say, he wore both of them very well. The man had a beautiful pair of legs. Where Bill had black hair, Slatter had brown hair. I don’t think his legs were as hairy as Bill’s, but maybe it was just the color difference that made them look a little less hairy.
Slatter put his feet up, and we chatted for a few minutes.
“You never did tell me—why is your boyfriend in Australia right now? What kind of work does he do that keeps him away from home over Christmas?”
“He’s there filming a movie with Derrick… Derrick St. James—sorry.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” he said. “I thought you said he was a student too.”
“He is. He’s supposed to be. Derrick got him a quick thirty-second spot in his last movie. When the next movie came together, Derrick was really excited about the story and asked Bill to take another little role. This time he’s on camera for about three minutes and has a dozen lines of dialogue. I’d still rather have him here.”
“No shit. Bummer that they have to film over the holidays.”
“The studio doesn’t work to the calendar in terms of people’s schedules or holidays or things like that.”
“Is he any good?” Slatter asked me.
“Well, I think he’s very, very good. Oh, you mean as an actor!” I joked. “Yes, he’s okay. I’m a terrible judge of such things.”
“So how is it that you know Derrick St. James on a first name basis?”
“Long, complicated story. The short version is that we grew up in the same area… and my mom knew his dad.” I left it at that. The remainder of the story was private and had never been shared with anyone, and I certainly wasn’t about to tell it now.
“How’s filming going?” Slatter asked. A perfectly reasonable question.
“Wish I knew.”
“Hasn’t he called every day?”
“Not once. They’re in some really remote part of the country without cell service and with hardly any wired service. The studio keeps telling me that they hope to get some temporary cell service set up soon, but I think that’s just a line of bullshit to get rid of me. I tried to send them a Christmas greeting by way of the studio, thinking that if anyone has a chance of getting a message to them onsite, it would be them. I don’t know if they got it or not.”
“That totally sucks!”
“I hope at least it’s a good movie that they’re working on.”
“Your guess is as good as mine. If he’d ever call me I might know what’s happening over there.”
“Is he friends with Derrick St. James too?”
“Yes.” I caught myself at the last moment. I very nearly said, “In fact, Derrick tried to hit on him when we all first met.” But I kept my thou
ghts in check and didn’t reveal any secrets.
We chatted quite comfortably for an hour or so, finding that we had many questions for each other and for the first time ever an opportunity to talk and answer some of those many questions. After several iced tea refills we decided that we were hungry, so I threw some burgers on the grill. The smell was heavenly as they cooked, even though it wasn’t some hugely elaborate Christmas dinner.
The day stayed sunny, the food was simple and wonderful, and the company couldn’t have been better. After eating, I felt like I needed to move or fall asleep, so I suggested that we go for a walk on the beach. While the ocean was easily visible from our seats, walking to the beach was not a reasonable idea. I drove us the ten minutes to the beach. We walked in the warmth of midafternoon sun for over an hour. The beach was relatively quiet that day, as was most of the town. I guess everyone was over the river and through the woods visiting grandma’s house. All I knew was that this was my first Christmas in Los Angeles and that it was the quietest I had ever found this town in the six months I’d lived here.
When we were both walked out, I drove us back to my house, where we lounged on the couch and talked some more. When we were talked out, I drove Slatter back to campus and dropped him at his dorm, returning to my once again quiet apartment.
Chapter 16
Start of Second Quarter of Classes
THE week between Christmas and New Year’s was quieter for me. I put in some hours at the shop, and when I wasn’t working I continued reading textbooks to prepare for the next quarter. I also did something totally decadent: I bought and read a fiction book—something that was pure fluff! It was great fun, and I thoroughly loved it, which was unfortunate because that meant that I wanted to read another meaningless book. But I only allowed myself one additional extravagant luxury.
New Year’s Eve was equally as dull as Christmas Eve had been. I once again warmed up something frozen and ate while reading. One good thing did come out of my time alone over the holidays: I took up running again. Each morning, and sometimes each evening as well, I went out into the surrounding streets and jogged. Over the three weeks I was working up to a fairly hefty duration, and I was quite pleased with my stamina and the way I was starting to drop a couple of pounds I had picked up over the last six months.
On January 2 I was tremendously excited: Bill was due back that day. I was excited, I was anxious, I was full of anticipation. I went to the grocery store early and bought a bunch of things to make us a nice dinner. I even went all out and bought a bottle of champagne for us to have our delayed New Year’s toast. I went online and checked out when the various airline flights from Australia got into Los Angeles so that I would have some sense of when he might be arriving. I didn’t know if such flights got in early in the day, middle of the day, or at the very end of the day. Early part of the day seemed more common, which worked fine with me.
I washed the sheets, cleaned the apartment, prepared some food, did some more reading, and did some pacing. But no Bill. As the hours slowly ticked by, there was still no sign of him as the sun started to go down. Totally frustrated, I decided that I needed to burn off some nervous energy, so I went out for a run. I ran and ran and ran, with ultra-loud music blasting in the headphones in my ears. I ran until I thought I was going to collapse—and then I ran some more. I wanted to run myself into unconsciousness. When I finally dragged myself up the street later that evening, I was once again hopeful that I would find the lights on and Bill waiting at home for me. But no. No lights greeted me, and the house was as empty as it had been when I left. Frustrated beyond belief, I showered and collapsed into bed, exhausted.
The following day was a repeat of the previous day. Again I waited, hopeful, anxious, full of anticipation, only to once again have those hopes dashed. On the third such day I had agreed to work to cover a shift for someone who had had a death in their family, which was good—not the death in the family, but the fact that I had work to take my mind off my anxiousness.
When I arrived to start my shift, the first person I saw was Slatter, who greeted me with a big smile and a “Happy New Year” greeting.
“So, how was it?” he asked.
“How was what?” I asked, not clear on what he was asking.
“How was the big reunion when Bill got home? Did you two have some quality time together to get reacquainted?”
I snorted. “Couldn’t tell you, since he never showed up.”
“Wasn’t he due home on the second?”
“That’s what I thought. But no sign of him. No word from him. No e-mails, no phone calls. No nothing. Just anxiousness and waiting.
“Nothing again on the third. And today is the fourth and still nothing. I have no way to get hold of him and no idea what could be happening. I was really, really hoping that we would have at least a couple of days together to ourselves before we start school again in… oh, let me see, three days! But I guess that’s not gonna happen.”
“Bummer, man. I’m so sorry, Mark. I really am. For the last couple of days I’d been picturing you two catching up on lost time and lounging around the house naked and happy.”
“It’s a nice image, but unfortunately that’s all it is.”
“You should have called me. I would come keep you company or help distract you or something.”
“I didn’t want to impose on you.”
“Mark!” he scolded me. “You can call me anytime. We’re friends, and that’s what friends do—you’re there when a friend needs someone. Don’t be so stubborn, okay?”
I grumbled something. “I’m probably not going to be winning lots of people over today with smiles and warm greetings. If they stick me at the register, I might have to start paying people from the tip jar rather than have them leave us tips.”
“Why don’t you and I switch positions today? I’ll take the front, and you do the behind the bar work. Sound good to you?”
“I would be very grateful. And so would our customers,” I said with a snicker.
Working together we kept busy, and that helped me more than anything else could have. Like the miles of running I’d been doing, keeping busy with work was equally therapeutic. When our shift was finished, Slatter gave me his best wishes as well as his cell phone number. He made me promise to call him that evening with some word on what was happening, either Bill was there or still nothing. I agreed.
When I got home I was once again hopeful that I’d find a light on and the place occupied, but once again I arrived home to an empty apartment. The food that I’d bought to prepare a special meal for us on the second, I had to throw away on the sixth. The next day classes started for the new quarter and still no word or sign of Bill. I had gone from concerned to anxious to angry and back again. Where I finally settled was angry. I liked the feeling and stuck with that. It gave me the most satisfaction.
The morning of the seventh I was up and out the door to head to campus for class. Bill had classes that morning as well, and I had no idea how he was going to handle missing his first day of class. I was so pissed I could barely see straight.
Slatter met me on campus for breakfast and coffee before class, which started for him that morning as well. He took one look at my body language and said, “That good, huh?”
“Peachy.”
“Still no sign of him?”
“Nope. Nothing.”
“I can’t believe he’s blowing off his first day of class.”
“Well, my friend, you’re in good company.”
We talked some over bagels and coffee, agreeing to meet for lunch after our second class. I had one more class in the early afternoon, and then I was finished for the day. At lunch, Slatter suggested that he go home with me to keep me company in case Bill wasn’t there when I got home. I agreed because I desperately needed the distraction. And, as anticipated, there was no sign of Bill when I got home or anytime that evening.
Moira was back from her trip out of town by then. When she came knocking on the
door that evening to find out how the trip had worked out for Bill she was disappointed to find him not home. She said what I knew, that filming was captive to many variables and that many of those variables were beyond the control of anyone involved.
“Fine,” I said with some bitterness, “but now he’s not just taken away our vacation together, and a few days together when he was supposed to be back, but now he’s blowing off school. Do you know how hard we worked to get here? To get this all worked out? To earn some money?” She did, but she let me go on, sensing that I needed to vent.
Slatter watched our interaction, finally walking up behind me when he sensed that I was running down. He wrapped his arms around me and said, “Mark, I so wish I could fix this for you. I really do, but I don’t know what I can do aside from simply be here with you. I’m so sorry this has turned into one giant clusterfuck. I’d be pissed and annoyed and worried and everything else you’re feeling too.”
Moira was worried. I couldn’t tell if she was worried about me, worried about Bill, worried about Derrick, or worried about something else that I wasn’t aware of yet. She asked Slatter if he was staying for a while.
“If I can be of some help, definitely.”
“I’ll make a few calls and see if I can get any information.”
She never returned, so I could only assume, given the lateness of the hour, that she wasn’t able to reach anyone.
Slatter stayed with me, which was good, because there was no sign of Bill all week. On Friday he had officially missed a full week of classes. Any worry I had had was long past. I was simply dealing with one almighty pissed off attitude.
Little did I know, though, that my attitude was about to take on a decidedly darker tone very soon.
Chapter 17
Week Three of the Waiting Game, Betrayal
ON SATURDAY morning I got up early—I hadn’t slept very well anyway—and went out for a run. Slatter had slept on the couch, so I left the room as quietly as possible so as not to disturb the poor man. He was making a sacrifice beyond reason trying to sleep on a couch that was too short for someone of his height. He looked mightily uncomfortable.
Go West Young Man Page 13
