A body settled at the bar next to David, a warm and solid presence. “Taff. Terry.”
“Hey, kid,” Terry said. “Scotch?”
“What are you guys having?”
“Woodchuck Cider.”
“I’ll take one of those.”
Terry served him the cider and then went off to attend to some other customers. They drank in silence a moment, then Zach asked in a low voice, “Are you pissed at me?”
David considered the question. “No,” he said finally. “Not pissed.”
“Then what?”
“I don’t know, Zach. Not happy.” David picked at the label on his bottle. “I’m not sure what I’m feeling right now, but it’s not happy.”
“I’m sorry. I just had to get out of the house. I didn’t want… well, that’s not quite true. I did want to stay with you. Too much. It scared me.”
“You don’t trust me not to push. I get it.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“No, it never is.” David sighed. “It’s okay, Zach. It’s a speed bump. Nature’s way of telling us to slow down.”
“I don’t want to slow down,” Zach said in a fierce undertone. “I want to be with you, Taff.” He turned his head to look at David. “I’m scared as shit but I want you.”
David closed his eyes as a shudder went through him at the hunger in Zach’s voice, in his eyes. “I got it,” he said.
“I wish I did,” Zach said. “Come home with me, Taff.”
David hesitated, then shook his head. “Not tonight. My first class is at ten and I gotta be there by nine to get stuff set up. And I want to go running in the morning. I need to get to bed at a reasonable hour.”
“You will. I promise,” Zach whispered.
David shuddered again. “Fuck,” he muttered.
Zach leaned over so his shoulder brushed David’s. “That’s what I had in mind,” he murmured.
“Hey,” Terry said as he came by with a handful of empties, “I meant to ask you—you guys in a fight or something?”
“What?” Zach frowned.
“Well, your nose is all swollen”—Zach put his hand over his nose automatically—“and Davey’s got a black eye.”
Zach turned to David in surprise. “What?” He put his hand under David’s chin and turned his head. “Fuck, Taff! You do!”
“It’s not that bad,” David said.
It wasn’t, just a slight discoloration, but still noticeable. He’d been standing on David’s other side, so hadn’t seen it. “Jesus, I’m sorry.”
“No big,” David said dismissively. “It doesn’t even hurt. It’ll go away in a day or two.”
“And in the meantime you start teaching with a honking big black eye,” Zach said remorsefully. “I’m sorry, Taff.”
“You sock him?” Terry asked interestedly.
“Accidentally,” David assured him. “Shit happens, you know?”
“Don’t I,” Terry said, and carried the bottles over to the recycler.
“Well,” Zach said thoughtfully, “if you have a black eye, maybe that will intimidate the students so they don’t give you a hard time.”
David laughed. “It’s college, Zach, not high school. The kids are there because they want to be there.”
“I wouldn’t know.” Zach finished his Woodchuck and pinned down a five on the counter with the bottle. “Well,” he said reluctantly, “if you don’t want to come home with me….”
“No,” David said, “but you could come home with me.”
Zach raised his head and gave him a hopeful puppy look. “Seriously?”
David sighed. “Yeah, seriously. And if you’re trying to look like a bad-ass, puppy eyes don’t help, dweeb. But you gotta let me get to sleep at a reasonable time and no nightmares, okay? And we go running in the morning.”
“Okay.”
A quick grin flashed on David’s face and he added, “Besides, I moved the full bed from the guest room into my room this afternoon. It’s still not as comfortable as your king, but a hell of a lot better than the twin.”
Zach was grinning widely. “Excellent,” he said enthusiastically.
David shook his head.
“YEAH, IT went fine,” David said, his cell phone tucked between his ear and his shoulder as he finished putting away the art supplies in the closet. “I’ll tell you more if you bring a pizza by about nine. I’m starving.”
Zach said, “Why didn’t you stop and eat dinner? I thought you said you had a break at six.”
“I had kids with questions after my class.”
“You gotta make sure you eat,” Zach said disapprovingly. “Don’t let it happen again.”
“Yes, Mother,” David said. “I’m packing up now and should be home in a little bit. I’ll provide the liquid refreshment and a salad; you provide the pizza. I think Mom has set-ups in your freezer; cook it before I get home, because I am not willing to wait.”
“Nag, nag, nag,” Zach retorted.
David grinned and disconnected. He was almost done, ready to go home, as tired as he’d ever been in his life, but with a real sense of accomplishment. It was going to be a good move. The kids in his Introduction to Watercolor and Basic Drawing classes were enthusiastic and interested; the ones in his CAD classes less so, since CAD was a required course for the tech program, but still most of them were determined to do well, if the number of questions they’d had after each class was any indication. And they were all subjects he was comfortable with, so that was cool. The kids had all been impressed with the fact that he’d done internships with both ILM and Weta, and that seemed to add to their enthusiasm.
But teaching five classes was going to be tough. The two traditional art classes only met on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but the CAD classes were Monday through Thursday, with optional labs on Fridays. He had the suspicion that he’d be playing catch-up on his lesson plans during his off-periods on Fridays; these kids were chewing through his carefully ordered syllabi faster than he’d allowed for. He grinned to himself. Ah, better overworked than bored.
He turned off the lights in the art room and locked the door, hiking his backpack higher on his shoulder. Footsteps sounded down the hall, and he turned to see Bill Hernandez.
“How did it go?” Bill asked cheerfully.
“Great,” David said enthusiastically. “These kids are awesome. I’m gonna really enjoy working with them. A couple of them brought in some of their own work for me to look at; I think there’s some real talent there.”
“I heard you yourself are working on a gallery show this fall?” Hernandez fell into step beside David.
“Yeah, I know someone in the Springs who’s expressed interest in showing some of my stuff. I’ve got most of it in storage right now, but there are some pieces I’ve had good feedback on. That’s for later this summer. Speaking of which, Frankie coming home on break?”
“No, he’s got a summer associate position at a big firm in Chicago,” Bill said. “He’ll get home when he can, I guess, but these are the connections he’s gotta make if he’s going to get a position after graduation. Gone are the days when you’re guaranteed a job anywhere.”
“No fooling. Frankie’ll be fine, though,” David assured him. “He’s a smart kid.”
“Yeah, he’s top of his class, so I guess I shouldn’t worry, but I do.”
“You’re a parent,” David said. “Well, when he does come home, let me know. I’d like to touch base with him again. Maybe we can talk Zach into going out for a beer or something.”
“Frankie’d like that,” Bill said.
“Well, I’ll see you,” David said as they reached the door. “I’ve got to get home and get some sleep before I have to deal with those cannibals again tomorrow.”
Bill laughed. “See that you do,” he admonished. “You need all your energy for this bunch.”
THE GATEHOUSE was quiet when David got home. He let himself in the front door and dropped his gear on the couch before dropping himself bes
ide it. “God,” he groaned, “and I get to do this all again tomorrow….” It had been a while since he’d had to jump to someone else’s schedule, and it would take some getting used to. It wasn’t as bad as when he’d worked for MoMA, though; fourteen-hour days were the norm there. This was only—he checked his watch—twelve hours. He groaned again.
His cell phone rang and he climbed to his feet to get the phone out of the pocket of the jacket he’d slung over the opposite end of the couch. Figuring it was Zach, he headed for the kitchen to start putting together the salad he’d promised as he answered without checking the number. “Hello?”
“Hey, Davey.” The voice was sweet, with just a hint of a Jersey accent.
“Jerry?”
“Yeah, it’s me. I just wanted to call and see how your first day of school went.”
“I can’t believe you remembered the date.”
“Yep. I recall you were kind of excited about it even when you were trying not to be for my sake,” Jerry’s voice was wistful. “So how was it?”
“Good. No, great. I think I’m really going to like it. It’s gonna be a shitload of work, but that’s okay. It’ll be easier once I get into the routine.”
“That’s great,” Jerry said, and David could hear the smile in his voice. That was one of the things he’d always loved about Jerry. He couldn’t hide his feelings to save his soul, even over the phone.
He opened the refrigerator to get out the baby spinach and radicchio. “Yeah, I think it is.”
“I’m glad. How’s Zach?”
David sighed faintly. “Fucked up. But he’s improving.”
“Yeah. PTSD is like that. When I was doing PT with the hospital, I worked with a lot of returning vets. It was grueling for me; I can’t imagine what it must be like for them. That was part of the reason I went into sports medicine instead. I just couldn’t handle the stress.”
“Yeah, you always were too soft-hearted,” David said affectionately.
“And you always wanted to take care of everybody,” Jerry shot back, just as affectionately. “But I’m glad to hear he’s getting better. Are you guys… you know, together yet?”
“Yeah.” David opened the cabinet and took out the salad bowl. “Just this weekend. It’s not going to be easy, though.”
“No, I never thought it would be, Davey.” Jerry’s voice had gone serious. “I warned you about that, remember? But you’ve never really wanted anyone but him, so you better God-damned make it work.”
“Yeah. I know. I am sorry, you know.”
There was a knock at the back door, and David opened it. Zach came in with the pizza in a paper bag, started to speak, and stopped when he saw David was on the phone. Instead, he just waved with his free hand and moved around David to put the pizza on the table.
“Yeah, I know you’re sorry. That’s the hardest part,” Jerry said wistfully. “We were good together and I know you loved me, and you know I love you. But sometimes love just isn’t enough, is it?”
“No,” David said. He put the bowl down and walked to the far side of the kitchen, leaning against the breakfast bar that separated the kitchen from the living room. “Sometimes it’s not. God, Jer….”
“I know.” Jerry took an audible deep breath. “That’s the other part of why I’m calling, Davey. I just need to ask one more time: is there any chance in hell for us? Is there any way you’re coming back to me?”
David swallowed and put his hand over his eyes. After a moment, he said raggedly, “No. Not… no.”
“I didn’t think so. That’s okay. I knew that.” Jerry let out a soft exhalation, then said, “I wanted to tell you before you heard it from any of our other friends. I’ve started seeing someone. He’s not you, but he’s a good guy. I think we have a future, or at least the possibility of a future.”
“Do I know him?” David asked in a low voice.
“No. I met him at Kathryn’s. He’s an accountant—and despite that, a funny guy. You’d like him.”
“Right.” David laughed, a short, sharp, humorless bark.
“Seriously,” Jerry said. “In a year or two, I’ll introduce the two of you.”
“Fuck, Jerry,” David said miserably, “how the hell did we get here? It was so great in the beginning…. Was it really all my fault?”
“Yeah,” Jerry said, “but I knew that going into it. So it’s equally mine. And don’t think of it as fault or not fault, failure or not failure. It’s just the way the world works, David, my love. ‘Merry meet and merry part, and merry meet again.’ That’s what life is about. We’re just at the merry part stage.”
“And merry meet again,” David echoed. He swallowed. “Okay. In a year or two, introduce us. And I’ll introduce you to Zach.”
Zach looked up from where he was studiously cataloging the contents of the refrigerator. David tried to smile at him and managed a quirk of the lips.
“I’ll look forward to that. In the meantime, Davey, keep in touch, please? I don’t want to lose you completely.”
“You won’t.”
“I love you, Davey.”
“Love you too, Jer.”
ZACH TRIED not to flinch at the words David whispered into the cell phone, or notice that David’s dark eyes were glittering with unshed tears. He turned back to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of beer, not even paying attention to which one it was.
Behind him, David said in a voice thick with the tears he was refusing to shed, “I’ve got to change. I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Take your time,” Zach mumbled.
He waited until David had left the room before sinking down on one of the kitchen chairs and putting his head on the table. “Fuck,” he said aloud. This wasn’t good. Jerry had apparently gotten a new boyfriend and David was not taking it well. Shit, he thought.
The back door opened and Annie came in, a cloth grocery bag in either hand. “Oh, hi, Zach,” she said, puzzled.
Zach looked up. “Hi,” he said.
“Is Davey home?”
“Yeah. He said he was going upstairs to change or something. I brought a pizza.”
“I see that. Looks like someone started a salad.”
“Yeah. Taff did. But he got a phone call. I think it was bad news.” Zach heaved himself up out of the chair. “Maybe I better go home.”
“What kind of bad news?” Annie put the bags down on the counter and started putting the groceries away.
“I don’t know. It was his boyfriend—Jerry? I think he broke up with Taff.”
Annie frowned. “David and Jerry broke up a long time ago, Zach. Well before he came back here.”
“Maybe,” Zach shrugged. “But I guess it’s for good now. He’s got a new boyfriend and Taff was pretty upset. I better go.”
“No,” Annie said decisively. “You better not. Go up and see if Davey’s okay. I’ll finish the salad and put it and the pizza in the fridge. You guys can heat it up again later if you want it.”
“He won’t want me hanging around,” Zach said. “Not now.”
Annie blinked. “Now why would you say something so incredibly stupid, Zach? You’re a bright boy, and that was just plain dumb. Go see to David.” She gave him a gentle push.
He hesitated a minute, then at her stern expression, turned and went up the stairs.
DAVID’S DOOR was ajar; Zach pushed it open gently and stood watching a moment. David sat motionless on the floor by the bed, his arms around his knees, his head down and his cell phone held in both hands in front of his knees. The screen was blank. Zach sighed soundlessly, then sat down on the floor next to him, leaning back against the box spring. David didn’t move. Then Zach lifted his arm and draped it over David’s shoulders, and David started to cry, at first quietly, then louder and more fiercely, until he was shaking with the force of his wracking sobs. Zach didn’t say anything, just sat holding him while he cried. He took the cell phone from David’s nerveless fingers and reached up to set it on the nightstand, then put both arms ar
ound his lover and held him.
Finally David’s sobs eased and he lay quietly back against Zach’s shoulder. Zach smoothed the honey-blond hair back from his forehead. “You okay?” he asked softly.
“Sorry,” David muttered.
“It’s okay. Jerry’s got a boyfriend, huh?”
“Yeah.” David wiped his face with his hand. “Stupid of me to get upset. It’s not like I didn’t expect this to happen. I mean, he’s sweet, and gorgeous and smart and anyone would be lucky to be with him. And I did leave him, not the other way around. But it still hurt. Isn’t that stupid?”
“No,” Zach said, and kissed him. David’s lips were damp and salty and soft; he sighed faintly and leaned into Zach, putting an arm around his neck. Against his mouth, Zach said, “But he’s not the only one who’s sweet and gorgeous and smart, and I am so fucking lucky you chose me instead of him. God, Taff.”
“Shut up and kiss me,” David murmured, and Zach obliged. They necked a while, sitting on the floor, then Zach eased away and got to his feet, bending to lift David in his arms. “Fuck,” David said in disbelief, “you are strong.”
“Yeah,” Zach shrugged, and set David down on the bed and pulled the linens away from the bottom sheet. “I see your comforter’s a little small for this bed.”
“Yeah, I probably need a new one, anyway. I think Mom made it for me when I was like six.”
“It smells like you.”
“Is that good or bad?”
“Good,” Zach said, and unbuttoned David’s oxford shirt before pushing him gently down on the pillows. He opened the shirt and ran his hands down David’s chest and abdomen. “Pretty,” he said. “I like that you’re not all bumpy and muscular. Just lean and sleek. A ‘wee sleekit beastie’.”
“Great,” David said in mock despair. “And I’m not so wee. I’m almost as tall as you are. I’m just not muscle-bound like you. And what’s next? You’ll say you like the fact that I don’t have any hair on my chest?”
“You do.” Zach used his fingernails to pluck one of the fine, almost invisible strands. David batted his hand away.
“Ouch, that hurts!”
Dreamspinner Press Year Four Greatest Hits Page 21
