Javier moved out of the condo he shared with Mauricio for the last three years. In the end, it had been too hard to pay the mortgage Mauricio refinanced to cover the cost of the lavish lifestyle they'd enjoyed in the last two years.
Many times Javier thought of reminding Mauricio that he would probably outlive him, but it would have been cruel to say such a thing. Those last months had been hard for Mauricio, so Javier would have done anything to please him. And ignoring the future seemed to be one of those things.
Javier had been born into a family of classical musicians, and he'd completed his Masters of Music degree at the Juilliard School shortly after he married Mauricio. His mother was a gifted pianist and his father a talented violinist. After they married and had children, seeing the talent the kids inherited, they formed a string quartet with their four kids, and made a living entertaining at social events of all kinds.
It had been during one of those performances that Javier met Mauricio. Javier usually ignored the people who'd attended the parties they entertained, because his father was strict about it. When Mauricio had approached Javier while his dad had been distracted with the host, and had introduced himself using his seductive mild manners telling Javier that he wanted to know him better, that he'd had been observing him for months at different events, and his dream was to have a private performance, Javier had fallen in love at the first hello.
At twenty-two and having been raised in a conservative way, Javier had been easily seduced by the experienced man, and in spite of his father's opposition, ended up living with Mauricio only a week after they started dating. The rest was now history.
After Mauricio died, Javier had come back to his family's home. He was devastated, but because his family wouldn't understand, he'd tried to hide his pain. Of course, it was still there.
Regardless of how much his family needed him to perform in their quartet, they didn't comprehend when he explained to them what being HIV positive really meant.
"So you don't have AIDS after all?"
"I do."
He'd answered his older sister, who sat together with the rest of the family in their living room. She had shaken her head, confused, "But you said that you don't have any symptoms yet and that you might live indefinitely."
Well, that was her; she'd never been polite or considerate.
Javier had made an effort to explain again. "Being HIV positive means I carry the virus in my blood, but I haven't developed the syndrome, yet. It could be years before I do, and with the new meds, I could live many years of a healthy life."
"If that's so, why is Mauricio dead?"
The one who asked the question had been his younger brother, who probably guessed by Javier's expression how unwelcome the words were, but with a sigh, Javier answered.
"He found out too late that he was infected, but even then, he got better with the medications, and his cell count was so low that he stopped taking his medications because of the horrible side effects some produced. I didn't know he wasn't taking his meds, I thought he'd adjusted to the side effects. By the time I discovered it, it was too late, and his body didn't respond to the treatments anymore. Everyone reacts differently to the virus. I hope to be one of those who do well."
He paused and looked at them. They were speechless at first, then, with clenched fists at his side, Javier's father had blurted, "That man was an irresponsible moron, and if he wasn't dead I would kill him!"
After that, he'd stormed out of the room, and everyone else followed suit.
Javier stayed there wondering if coming back home had been the right choice. He went to his room, and viewed the briefcase with Esteban's letters. He had to deliver them, and afterward, maybe he could really put those three years behind him and start over again. When that thought crossed his mind, the realization that in order for that to happen he would need to leave his family's home again, hit him almost in a physically painful way.
His mother kept cleaning with a bleach solution after him; the whole house reeked of it. She kept a big plastic container with water and bleach in the kitchen sink for Javier to put in it any tableware he used, before it could be placed in the dishwasher. All of that was kind of humiliating, because no matter how many times he'd explain the ways the virus passed from one person to another, they didn't get it. He'd noticed how they avoided touching him, how their relatives stop visiting, and if any of them ever showed up, they didn't bring in their kids.
Then he'd cut himself while peeling an orange. The cut wasn't that deep, but it bled as if it were. It had occurred while they all were watching a TV show, which for a few minutes reminded Javier of when he was a child, giving him a false sense of security.
It took merely seconds for his brothers and sister, followed by his parents to walk away from him to a corner of the room, where it seemed safe to stand.
Javier stayed sat, putting pressure over the cut in order to make the bleeding stop. He'd felt ashamed, but mostly, hurt by the fact that his family reacted as if his blood were radioactive, or he was some sort of monster. Well, his blood carried a virus that could eventually kill, and he'd read somewhere that legally if he spread his blood to anybody this could be considered a weapon, so maybe his kin's reaction wasn't that wrong.
In the end, his mother handed him a first aid kit, somehow he'd managed to mutter that he couldn't do anything holding his finger with his hand. He suggested that she use gloves and help, she was about to do so, when his father stopped her, saying that Javier simply needed a Band-Aid. She extracted one from the box and set it on Javier's lap, moving back to her position next to her husband. Javier put the Band-Aid over the cut, and walked to the kitchen where he dropped the orange in the trash, after putting the knife in the container of water with bleach.
Now, he spent more of his time in the backyard under that tree, feeling like the dog the family never had. He wished there was some place he could go, but his mind was somewhat blank now.
The sound of his cellular phone surprised him, because it rarely sounded at all, very few people wanted talk with him. The fact that it was Esteban Hidalgo's voice surprised him even more. Because he only called him at night, and it was only noon, he answered his greeting still in shock.
"Javier, I'm leaving New York for the time being, and thought of coming to your place to pick up the letters."
When Javier didn't say anything for a few seconds, Esteban quickly added, "I hope this is not a bad time for you."
"No, on the contrary, I'm glad you called."
"Are you sure? I don't want to impose myself."
"Yep, when are you coming?"
"In about twenty minutes, if that is okay with you?"
"Sure. I was thinking of calling you to find out when was the best time for us to meet, so I could give you the letters."
"It doesn't have to be today, Javier. I can come back when you're ready, and we can meet then."
"Today is fine! It's perfect, trust me!"
"Great, this is good timing for both of us. My usually busy schedule has been unexpectedly cleared, so we will be able to spend some time together. I'm looking forward to meeting you."
"Oh, I'm so sorry if you got laid off."
"I fired myself, or something to that effect. I'll explain to you better when we meet."
"Okay. Esteban, you have no idea of how much I wanted to talk with you again."
After a few seconds of silence Esteban asked, "Are you okay, Javier? Is your family giving you a hard time again?"
That was the understatement of the century, but Javier didn't want to admit it.
"We are not getting along as I thought we would; they've changed." he paused, "scratch that, they are the same, I have changed."
"I understand. Javier, the offer I extended the first time we spoke still stands. If you want, you can come with me, and you can stay with us as long as you feel like. Diego will be pleased to share time with another musician."
Javier's brother-in-law, Diego Alvarez, had always been nice
to him, but suddenly he wanted to know if Diego was the "we" part of us. Because Esteban always talked in plural, like there would be a whole town waiting for him, or was it only Diego?
When Javier didn't say anything, Esteban added, "Listen, you don't have to make your mind up right away. Come and visit us, and decide if we are a better option than your family."
Javier thanked him again, and they agreed that he would be picking him up to go to Hoboken after lunch, and Javier probably would stay for dinner, or overnight, depending on how Javier felt.
The minute Javier ended the call he knew what to do, and what he wanted, which was to be part of the life of Esteban Hidalgo, even if only as a close friend.
For the first time ever, someone offered him a few choices that depended only on what Javier wanted to do. He liked that, because in the past it had been his father's will, and later Mauricio's that only mattered.
Today, he felt like following his own will.
In that instant, he realized that listening to Esteban became his only pleasure, maybe his musician's ear had been touched by the other man's rich baritone voice. Esteban definitely missed ghetto 101, his manners over the phone were impeccable, and his diction, perfect.
During the times they spoke, Javier tried to guess more about this mysterious person that had been his husband's best friend, and who somehow had become the only brightness in his current state of mind.
Did he really grow up in the same neck of the woods as Mauricio? If not, how did they meet? He'd asked Mauricio a couple of times and all Javier got was that they had attended school together. Maybe it had been college. Not many hints about Esteban's profession there, because Mauricio had dropped out and hated to recall that time.
Javier had met Esteban, piece by piece, like the puzzle the man actually was. First his voice, next his cologne and his beautiful handwriting. It had been hard to resist reading those letters, but something told him he'd better respect the privacy of Esteban and Mauricio. Javier had to work on Saturday nights, during the only time that Esteban could visit Mauricio, so by the time Javier got home, all that was left behind was that delicious smell, and his happy husband. Because nothing made Mauricio happier than spending time with his old friend; although, there were occasions when he had been sad, and melancholy after one of Esteban's visits too.
The more Javier thought about Esteban, the more intrigued Javier felt. Even so, he'd hesitated to call him again. Every time they spoke, Esteban had said to call him if Javier needed anything, but being the educated person he was, it was probably a formality.
It had taken only ten minutes to be ready, during which Javier got together essential clothes, his meds, his favorite musical instruments, which were the ones Mauricio bought for him, and the briefcase with Esteban's letters. His father wasn't home, so he told his mother he was going to Jersey to visit his brother-in-law. She seemed concerned, but relieved at the same time.
Javier was so anxious to leave that he waited outside.
An expensive car arrived, parked a few meters from where he stood, and two men got out. Both walked toward Javier, side by side—tall, dark and good-looking. A familiar resemblance announced to the world they must be related, but at the same time, a closer look showed how different they were. Javier felt grateful for the seconds that would take him to reach the pair, because it would give him enough time to disguise his surprise at one of them being a priest.
A part of him felt disappointed, hoping, almost praying that the one using the Roman collar was not Esteban, but the other man's body language didn't match that educated voice he'd fallen for over the phone. Whoever he was, this one walked like a predator, slow, sensual, and with a movement of hips that announced to the world the amazing lover he could be. Indeed, he strode forward subtly pushing his groin as if it were a badge of sorts. Never his type, this kind of blatant sexuality had always scared Javier.
Not that he wanted to find a new lover, even though Mauricio had begged him to go out and start a new life. As if that were easy with his current condition. On the other hand, the fact that he analyzed these men as possible partners could mean his dormant libido was awakening.
Once they stood in front of him, he confirmed a resemblance so strong that Javier wondered if they were twins.
That voice that could get him warm and fuzzy in a naughty way, addressed him while a firm handshake took possession of his right hand.
"Javier, right? It's so nice to meet you."
So, that settled it, Esteban was the priest. Welcome to purgatory, Javier.
There was no use denying it, he had developed a crush on Esteban during these weeks while they spoke over the phone, and now, said crush had been crushed, pun intended. The man was a Catholic priest for God's sake.
For the first time in months, Javier noticed another man's body, along with that smile and those amazing eyes.
Too bad, Esteban not only was HIV negative, but a Catholic priest. Javier summed up to himself hoping the news sank once and for all, while he said the first thing that came to his mind.
"You don't look Hispanic at all."
Esteban smiled. "But I'm Latin, one hundred per cent, my family came from Italy and Spain."
Javier returned the smile. "My grandparents came from Andalusia, Spain."
"Interesting, mine are from Asturias."
This time Javier briefly looked Esteban up and down again.
Asturias, that explained it all, the height, the light eyes, and the temperament. In that moment, the other man at his side told Esteban, "You forgot the twice Italian part."
Esteban turned to him. "This is my brother Raul Hidalgo. Raul, this is Javier Lozano, a friend of Mauricio who kindly took care of something Mauricio left for me. And who is coming with us to New Jersey."
A friend? Javier wondered if he should correct him and explain that he was actually Mauricio's widower, but the way Esteban placed his arm over his shoulder made him hesitate. "Yes, we're having a mini Mauricio's friends' reunion."
What? Before Javier could grasp the situation, he automatically extended his hand to shake Raul's, but saw that Raul was frowning at him.
"Great. A friend of Mauricio is a friend of mine too. Aren't you kind of young to be his friend?"
What kind of question was that? Javier felt like saying, no, I was old enough to be his husband. Why had Mauricio never mentioned Raul? Why was Esteban trying to hide his real relation with Mauricio?
Esteban teased his brother. "Raul, what manners are those? Age is no limit for friendship. But if you need an explanation, Mauricio was Javier's instructor."
Well, Mauricio taught him a lot, although not exactly music. Javier thought to himself.
Raul looked surprised. "Oh, you're a musician too?"
Javier nodded. "Yes, a violinist."
"I see."
Whatever that was it seemed to be between the lines and blurred to Javier, who didn't understand a thing. Suddenly, Raul appeared to make up his mind because he smiled wide and said, "Cool. I hope you stay around long enough to meet the most interesting parts of Hoboken, and of course, our big family. Let's go."
Chapter 3
As he sat in the back seat of Raul's car, Javier tried to relax, but it was impossible. He still wondered why Esteban didn't tell Raul about his real relationship with Mauricio; although Javier had a good idea, because in the last year of his life, Mauricio had reunited with every person who had ever been important to him, including his family of course. To Javier's annoyance, after apologizing in advance, Mauricio insisted on Javier being introduced only as his roommate to everybody in his family and his friends.
The only exceptions were his brother Diego, and of course, Esteban, who Javier had never met until today.
Javier agreed because at that point, he didn't argue with Mauricio anymore, although it still hurt. They were among the first same sex couples to be married in New York, but his husband wanted to hide him from everyone he cared about, by saying he was only his roommate, at most his
friend.
It didn't make any sense to Javier that only their Manhattan acquaintances who shared a similar lifestyle knew about their union. He'd married a stranger, because until that moment, Javier ignored the fact that Mauricio was so closeted; living a life for his Manhattan friends and another for his family in Jersey.
Many years ago, Javier had come out to his family. Being formed by mostly artists, everybody understood, but he knew that his parents were disappointed. They had plans for him, big ones, and somehow his sexual preference seemed to stand in the way. Javier could not understand why who he preferred to sleep with could affect his possible future as a concertmaster. Until then, he thought all he needed were the right instructions and countless hours of practice. They obviously had foreseen the future in a way that only parents sometimes might fear.
So, Raul should be someone that belonged to the close, but not trusted, Mauricio's friends and family club.
His eyes met Raul's a couple of times via the rearview mirror, and it was obvious the other man felt curious about him. This didn't bother Javier, because he could perceive that curiosity as nonsexual. In the past, getting that sort of attention from men that looked like Raul worried him, because it had forecasted unwanted sexual attention that Javier had dodged eventually, at the cost of any possible friendship.
From the passenger seat Esteban half turned in Javier's direction. "How is your music going? Are you practicing again?"
His voice sounded even better in person. It was gentle, caring, and softly spoken, but also masculine. It flowed over the senses like a caress.
"Yes. The only good thing about moving back with my family has been the chance to practice music again."
He had told Esteban how he could not play like he had in the past. Something was missing from Javier's performances. His heart was the missing element, according to his father's assessment. Javier needed to practice more hours. Therefore, Javier had done so, but no amount of practice could return his will to live, and the passion that had slowly died along with Mauricio.
A Magnetic Couple Dilemma (Unfinished Liaisons Series) Page 2
