Nick Nolan

by Double Bound (Sequel To Strings)

  What're you gonna do now?

  "Are you OK?" Jeremy asked as he threw down the bumpers and Arthur wheeled the helm back and forth, trying to get as far inside their berth as he could without careening into it.

  "Yeah!" he barked over the bray of the engine as he threw it into reverse. "I'm just glad we got back OK!"

  You fucked up. Big-time.

  Jeremy waited until the boat was close enough to hop onto the dock, then jumped.

  Arthur threw him the ropes, and he tied them as best he could just as a big wave rolled in and squished the boat up against its dangling bumpers. Then, with the craft securely in place, Arthur cut the engine, tossed their belongings to Jeremy and jumped onto the dock.

  You should've stopped it while you could.

  You could've, you know.

  While squinting against the rain Jeremy smiled sheepishly, and Arthur did his best to smile back. "Come on," he told him, and slapped him on the shoulder.

  They jogged by the unfinished waterfront up to their suite.

  Something really bad is gonna happen now.

  Moments later they were standing with water pooling at their feet inside the suite, with the sliding doors shut securely against the relentless deluge.

  "God, the weather here sure turns fast," Jeremy remarked as he peeled off his wet shirt.

  "It's like that in the tropics. But it'll go away as quickly as it came."

  "Do you think they'll be flying in this?"

  "I hope not." He shivered from his own sopping T-shirt and shorts. "Do you want to take a shower first or should I?"

  Jeremy looked at him beseechingly. Then he got the message. "You go."

  "Sure?"

  He nodded.

  "I'll be quick. And then we can talk, OK?"

  Jeremy blinked silently.

  "I think you'll agree that we need to talk. All right?"

  He folded his arms across his chest and nodded. "OK."

  Arthur closed himself into the bathroom and cranked on the water. Then, after dropping his clothes into a soggy pile on the floor, he stepped under the scalding spray and moaned--the heat went into his bones.

  The water drenched his head. He lathered himself quickly, then rinsed.

  There's only one thing to do now.

  He twisted off the water, toweled dry and slipped on jeans and a black T-shirt.

  "Your turn," he said after returning to the living room.

  Jeremy padded into the bathroom.

  A downpour drummed the glass, so he went to the windows and saw that the usually placid reflecting pools were fuzzy from the downpour, and the white concrete pavilions beyond were glossy and slick.

  How long would the storm last? Was Carlo's plane even now circling the island, or had they had the sense to stay in Rio until the storm passed? Had he been able to find Afonso? What if he returned with the man--how would this new presence affect their increasingly strange group dynamic? And how the hell could he face Carlo without allowing his expression to show what had just happened?

  And how would he deal with Jeremy?

  He felt like he had in boot camp when he'd fallen asleep, and those fuckers, led by Rubin, had thrown him that "blanket party"; he was even now just as bewildered: It was like waking up again with a tarp over his head, legs and arms, waiting for the inevitable blows to begin.

  He tucked in his T-shirt and sat back waiting for Jeremy so he could clear up this whole thing.

  I'm a moon, he thought. That big planet in space in front of me is love, and I'm made of the same material as it is, but I'm apart--left out for some reason--and yet here I spin dutifully. Everyone else is a part of that planet-- that big human experience I'm somehow excluded from: children loving parents and parents loving children, couples growing old together, buddies getting together to watch a game, and talking about their pregnant wives. And it sucks, because love is what I'm all about. I'm a moon.

  His mind drifted back to that moment in the water. And even though his usually implacable conscience was split now with fear and regret, there was still part of him that felt giddy. Joyful. Hopeful.

  Jeremy emerged from the bath wearing low-rise sweats that hung well beneath his adonis belt, and no shirt.

  "Will you please stop torturing me and put some more clothes on?" Arthur pleaded.

  "Or better yet, why don't you wear one of those ugly, giant bathrobes that're hanging in the closet, along with my sunglasses."

  Jeremy cracked a smile. "Am I that hard for you to resist?"

  "You've got no idea, my love. So now that the cat's out of the bag, I think we should have a serious talk. But hurry, because your real lover might walk in the door any second."

  He returned wearing an oversized sweatshirt.

  "Much better." Arthur motioned for him to sit.

  They faced each other, their arms crossed and eyes shifting, with Jeremy in one of the white Barcelona chairs and Arthur on the long part of the sectional. It occurred to Arthur that to the casual observer, of which there were none at the moment, they might have looked like a father questioning his teenage son about his errant credit card usage, or where the new dent in the Chevy Tahoe originated. And in some sensible, parallel universe--of which there was also none--perhaps this very scene was being played out in exactly that way.

  But not here.

  Their universe had never been sensible.

  "What happened today can never happen again," Arthur announced, finally.

  "I knew you'd act this way." Jeremy rolled his eyes and huffed. "Why're you making this into such a big deal?"

  "Because it is a big deal. Changing our relationship into that just isn't right."

  Jeremy shot him a challenging glare. "But it sure seemed to me that that's what we both wanted. Yeah?"

  "Look, what people want and what they should do are usually very different things.

  I love our relationship just the way it is. And I think you do, too."

  "I'm in love with you, and I'm sick of acting like I'm not--and I think you are, too."

  "You're not in love with me. You're just confused."

  "Don't tell me how I'm feeling."

  Arthur looked away, then focused back on Jeremy. "Then can I ask how long you've been feeling this way?"

  "I don't know," he mumbled. "It seems like forever."

  Arthur felt bewildered again. Blanket party. "What should I do?"

  Time passed, but Jeremy made no effort to indicate he'd heard him.

  "Jeremy?"

  His eyes lifted to him finally, and Arthur saw fear in them. "Isn't it obvious? You told me--no, you showed me today that you're in love with me. And I've felt it for so long from you, and I know you've felt it from me. I knew...I knew it when you called me in Hawaii; it was what I'd been waiting for. But up until then...you don't know what I've been through."

  Arthur's stomach tightened as he saw tears well up in Jeremy's eyes. "I don't want to hurt you any more than you've been--"

  "But you want this!" he shouted. "I know you do!"

  Arthur shook his head. "If there is one thing I can tell you for certain, it's that you don't know what I want...mostly because I don't know what I want."

  "I do about this."

  Arthur needed to be firm. "Of course I love you," he replied flatly. "But not that way. I just got carried away at the beach because it'd been so long and we were having such a great time. I took advantage of you, and for that I'm sorry. You're like a son to me, and I don't want that to ever change."

  " Bullshit! " Jeremy laughed. "Would you do what we did with your 'son'? You're just saying that because you're trying to convince yourself. And you're trying to convince me."

  "But, Jeremy, that's what our relationship is based on: your need for a father and my need for a son."

  Jeremy's face reddened. "I only had one father, and he's dead--and so, by the way, is my mom. And since I've lived my life without a dad, I sure as shit don't need one now. I'm beyond that, Arthur. Waaaaay beyond that. What
I need is someone I can count on to love me and not to screw me over, and someone I can love back. Who the fuck else is out there for me that I can count on as much as you?"

  "What about Carlo?" Arthur asked, sounding more judgmental than he'd intended.

  "or had you forgotten about him?"

  "Carlo is just...Carlo. I told you back at home that there were problems, and I was interested in somebody else; I just needed to find out that you felt the same way about me first before I figured out what to do about him."

  "Yeah?" he asked. "So then what happened to this other guy--the one you told me about? Exactly how many guys are you in love with, currently?"

  Jeremy stood up indignantly. "Don't ever say things like that to me, Arthur. If you'd thought about it for two seconds, you would've known that you were the one I was talking about."

  " What? "

  Jeremy shook his head, and then began speaking slowly, as if he were addressing the stupidest man on earth. "Remember when I told you that I'd sort of been seeing someone that I had feelings for, and I'd kind of told him how I felt, and that you would be the first one to meet him when the time came, and that as long as I was with Carlo he wouldn't let anything happen between us and that he was the best? "

  Arthur nodded dumbly.

  "Make sense now, Mr. FBI Agent? "

  Arthur got up from the sofa and made his way to the window. "OK. I get it now,"

  he said, speaking to the glass. "Carlo or no Carlo, I'm just trying to imagine us as partners, as equals. It's just that our age difference...it's huge."

  "Will you stop with that shit?" Jeremy yelled. "I don't care!"

  Arthur turned to him. "I can see that you don't care, and I'm flattered; really I am.

  But it's not the numbers, my love. It's developmental, or whatever you want to call it. You have so much you need to experience in this life: college and grad school and making friends and losing friends and finding your own way...finding what it is that you want out of life, and building a life with someone who's going through the same things you are, or at least walking with you down that same path."

  Jeremy began pacing. "You must be thinking that you're talking to someone who's had a normal life, but that's not me; I guess you already forgot that whatever developmental experience I was supposed to have got thrown away when my uncle killed my father, or when my mom drank herself to sleep every night, or when my aunt tried to make me into the resurrection of her dear, dear nephew." He laughed bitterly. "The truth is this: You're the only person in my whole life--on this whole planet-- who's ever seen me for who I am, and has ever loved me for me--but not because now I'm some cute rich kid. And because you think you're too old or that it's wrong, you're gonna keep us both from being together and loving each other?"

  He went to him, and Arthur turned away, but Jeremy wrapped his arms around his waist anyway and put his chin on the back of his shoulder. "From that first night when I got to Ballena Beach, I saw something in your eyes that I'd never seen before in my whole life."

  And I saw something in your eyes, only I had seen it before.

  Jeremy's hands smoothed the hard muscles of Arthur's stomach.

  Arthur felt himself becoming aroused. "Don't do that. Please."

  Jeremy began untucking the shirt from Arthur's pants, and his mouth gently kissed the back of his neck. "I love you," he whispered, and then nuzzled his earlobe. "So, so, so much."

  Arthur squeezed shut his eyes. How could he tell him that sometimes, when he imagined them making love, it was Jonathan he saw himself with? And his body perfume--that haunting mix of chlorine and water and simmering testosterone--he'd savored it on the boy's father, and even from the beginning had found himself inhaling next to Jeremy, just to get a reminiscent whiff.

  Now here he was. Being held by him. Feeling the rise and fall of his chest against his back, and the swell in his pants pressed against his ass. I love you so much was the only thought his brain could stammer, just as it was the lone thrum of his soul.

  Should he turn and kiss him and take him here, right now, or even be taken by him, with the threat of Carlo walking in the door any moment?

  "We'd better sit down." He turned and their eyes met. "There's something I need to tell you."

  Chapter 24

  "When I was almost eighteen, I fell in love for the first time. With a boy; he was younger than me--sixteen--but in some ways he was much more mature than I was, or at least I thought s o at the time. He was beautiful, and smart, and proudly gay.

  He turned my world upside down. I don't know if I've ever loved anyone as much as I loved him; maybe in some ways I didn't even feel as strongly for Danny as I did for him. And since then I've spent most of my adult life looking for someone who could make me feel the way he did...someone I could feel as passionately about, and up until now I haven't. I've come close, but there's something unforgettable about your first love, as you know."

  "What does this have to do with us?" Jeremy asked impatiently.

  "Just wait," Arthur said."This boy, this wonderful creature and I spent nights making love on the beach, and we did everything else together; we really were inseparable. We loved each other; I know we both did--we were both each other's firsts...you know, we'd been virgins up 'til then. We talked about the future, made plans for college and even after that. Our friends knew we were together, even some of the guys on the Ballena Beach High football team knew. I was graduating that year, so we decided I would get a head start on getting us established, as crazy as that sounds. Everything was set, and we were going to make a go of it."

  Jeremy's eyes belied his polite boredom. "So?"

  "Oldest story in the book," Arthur said with a sigh. "He broke my heart. I found out through friends that he'd been fooling around with this other kid from our high school, some hot Latin kid named Jaime. Sound familiar?"

  Jeremy nodded absently and folded his arms across his chest. "I know the type."

  "So I confronted him, and he admitted what was going on, and we broke up, and then he and Jaime continued their relationship.

  "Then something happened between them. I never found out what it was, but they broke up suddenly, and my ex-boyfriend, this proud gay kid, well, he started dating a girl. And he wound up marrying her after getting her pregnant, if you can believe it."

  Jeremy laughed. "I guess that's what they did back then, huh? I mean, that kind of sounds like what happened with my dad."

  "It's exactly what happened"--he locked eyes with him--"with your dad."

  Jeremy's smile froze. "Huh?"

  "Jonathan was my first love. My first lover. He's one of the reasons I joined the Marines in the first place; I just couldn't stand the thought of carrying on with our life plans without him. Plus, I was really, really depressed."

  Jeremy paced from the chair to the windows and back again. "So the Marines turned into the FBI...and Katharine starts investigating Bill...and the FBI assigns you to our house?" His eyes were wide. "That's just too fuckin' weird."

  "Not really. When the case came up against Bill, they asked me if I wanted the job because my file said I was from Ballena Beach, and they thought this would be an asset to the case. But later they found out that Jonathan and I had been involved, so they disciplined me for not disclosing that to them in the first place."

  "Does Aunt Katharine know? About you and him?"

  "Not that I know of. I don't even know if she ever knew about Jonathan being gay."

  Jeremy chuckled. "Oh, she knew all right."

  Arthur's brows scrunched. "How do you know?"

  "Well, she told me his name was Jamie, not Jaime. She caught them together, in the house. Having the gay sex. And she made him go to therapy to get 'fixed,' and I figured he was so embarrassed by the whole thing that he started screwing my mom to prove to Katharine that he was all fixed up."

  "And she got pregnant."

  " With me."

  "How convenient. So that's what happened with Jonathan and Jaime...." His voice
trailed off. "And that explains Jonathan's big turnaround; it was creepy to see him all of a sudden being Mr. Hetero Jock, especially after..."

  "After what?"

  Arthur smiled. "After I knew what he liked. And I'll leave it at that."

  "Hmmm. Well, my aunt can be pretty convincing, as you know."

  Arthur got up from the chair and made his way back to the windows. "If she had caught them, I can see why Jonathan would have done exactly what he did. He was scared of her and of being cut off from the money, and he really didn't have anyone else he could count on, except for me. But I wasn't enough."

  "You guys were real young."

  "Yes, we were," Arthur agreed, staring straight at him. "Just like you are now, we were very, very young."

  "So back when I came to Ballena Beach you told me you knew my dad, and I remember you saying something like you knew him, 'but not the way I wanted to.'"

  "I lied. no one knew him as well as I did. And I'm glad you know that now."

  "I kinda wish I didn't."

  Arthur nodded. "But can you see now why I had to tell you?"

  "Yeah. I see. Is that why you're so freaked out about us having the gay sex?"

  "Do you think?" Arthur laughed. "It's bizarre on so many levels.... I mean, that in so many ways--as you know--you're so much like him. Like his twin. And that's great, especially since you really have become your own man, since you've found yourself and your own identity. But what really gets me is...that if...how can I say this, if Jonathan and I had stayed together, maybe we would have had a child, and that child, in some bizarre way, should've been you."

  "That doesn't make any sense."

  "I know it doesn't. It's not rational. But if you think about it, I guess I'm speaking more in a cosmic sense. I was Jonathan's lover. Lovers stay together and have kids.

  You're Jonathan's kid. See what I mean?"

  "I guess...but I'm not yours."

  "You're right. But then, here I am put on this earth to protect you from Bill and teach you how to throw a baseball and help you be a proud gay man. I mean, for the past year I really have been sort of like a father to you. You even gave me that Father's Day paperweight you made in school."