Ed glanced at Laurie, who was still staring. Al tugged on him, and Ed gave a bemused smile and wave before disappearing down the hall toward the study.
Laurie turned back to Oliver, blinking.
Oliver laughed and settled down beside Christopher. “That's one down.”
Laurie felt oddly betrayed but tried to shake it off. “Where is the donor, Oliver?” he asked instead.
Oliver's smile was strained. “It's just us today, actually.” He looked sheepish. “Christopher and I are the donors, if anything. Mostly I wanted you to make peace with your mother.”
Laurie stared at him for a long second. “You set me up?”
Christopher leaned forward and offered a glass of wine to Laurie. “Have a drink, hon.”
Laurie drank, but he fumed too. A setup. No donor at all, just a setup by Oliver. He said nothing, just drank one glass of wine, and then another.
He didn't see Ed again until his mother called them to the table, which was also the first time he saw her. She had on her extra-polite face. She didn't look as if she were eager to make up either.
Laurie's father was still chatting Ed up as they came into the dining room. Why Laurie was so surprised they'd gotten along, he couldn't say. He supposed he had known that his father liked sports. That was who his father was. The man who read the newspaper, watched sports, and drove the car to dance rehearsal. The man who had never outright shown Laurie his dislike for what he did and even who he was, but who had never embraced him either. Literally. Laurie shook his hand whenever he left the house, and he thought the last time he'd received a hug was when he'd left for resident dance school. Even that had been awkward and forced by his mother.
Now here was Al Parker, bright-eyed and engaged in a way that was almost frightening to Laurie, it was so foreign. He was reliving famous football plays with Ed, apparently, and he couldn't be sure, but he thought he'd heard them making plans to watch the Super Bowl together. Strangest of all, and to his surprise, most painful, was to see the way his father touched Ed. Oh, it was casual. Occasional. But it was there, and it was deliberate. Al was enjoying his houseguest for a change, and in a way Laurie wasn't sure he ever had before. But then, when had they ever had a sports figure of any stamp for dinner, let alone one who had performed a heroic feat like nearly becoming a quadriplegic?
They sat down to eat. His mother was trying to bait him to anger, asking pointed questions about the center and his job and wanting to know how Maggie had taken the news, but he gave her short, flat replies, too busy watching Ed and his father to let her engage him. Light. There was actually light in his father's eyes, and Laurie was obsessed with it. His disinterested, wet noodle of a father wasn't a wet noodle right now. He liked Ed. He liked Ed a great deal, and all he knew about him was that he played football. And when Laurie's mother tried to turn the discussion onto Ed, to ask him about his work and make him feel bad for being unemployed, Al embraced this too. Joked about the office environment and all the “damn politics,” like the two of them were the only ones in a club together. And yet this served only to upset Laurie all the more.
Did his father not realize that this was not Laurie's friend come home from school? That Ed was his boyfriend? His gay boyfriend? He wanted to say, “You know, Dad, I let him fuck me up the ass, and he sucks my cock too. Sometimes we suck each other's cocks at the same time. Were you aware of this?”
But no. His father knew Ed was his boyfriend. His mother would have made sure of that. Which meant it had never been, as Laurie had always quietly assumed, his orientation his father had a problem with.
It was just his masculinity—or lack of it.
“So have you come to your senses and decided you will perform for the benefit?” Caroline asked, and before Laurie could spit a “no” at her, Ed cut off Al and spoke for Laurie, beaming.
“Yeah, we are,” Ed said. “So far I think we're doing a tango, but I'm hoping to talk him into doing a few other dances too.”
“We?” Caroline repeated, ice dripping from her voice.
Ed frowned at her, looking confused. “Yeah, we. Laurie and I. For the benefit show for Halcyon Center.”
Oliver and Laurie winced in unison as Caroline repeated, “Halcyon Center?”
Ed looked wary now. “Yeah. The benefit Oliver and Laurie are having for Halcyon Center.” He glanced at Oliver and then at Laurie. “Isn't that what you're talking about?”
Caroline let her fork hit the table with a thud and turned to Laurie. “You're performing for that center, and you won't perform for me?”
Laurie pushed the food around his plate but never brought up his fork.
“I think you should do both, Laur,” Ed said, nudging him gently with his elbow. “What's your mom's benefit for? Is it like ours?”
Laurie swore he could hear the ice hitting the floor around his mother's chair. “The International Children's Benefit Gala, I'm sure, isn't anything like whatever you're doing for the center.”
Ed leaned forward to peer around Laurie at Caroline, bracing his forearms on the table. “So how do we get him to agree to these, Caroline? I keep thinking maybe I can get him to do something with me, but I'd rather watch him do one of his solo dances.”
Across from Laurie, Oliver covered his mouth with his napkin to hide a smile, but his shoulders shook with his chuckle. Christopher just sat back in his chair, enjoying it all. At the other end of the table, Al stopped cutting his ham and glanced at Ed. “You dance too?”
There was no mistaking the disappointment in his tone.
Ed didn't seem to hear it, though. “Oh, nothing like him. Jesus, no. But I like the ballroom stuff a lot. I'd do the other, but I don't think I have the grace for it. Not like Laur.”
Now they had Oliver's attention. “That would be something to see, the two of you performing. I didn't realize you'd progressed that far. I assumed it was just"—he glanced at Laurie with a quick wink—"flirting.”
Ed grinned. “Well, maybe that too. But I think we do okay. I want him to enter a contest with me, but that's going to take some doing. Right now I just want to get us somewhere we can show off.”
“Ed,” Laurie hissed. He felt dizzy. He'd come ready to battle his mother, but so far she was the least of his worries. He wanted to go out to the car and lie down until all this went away.
“What about here? Now?” Christopher suggested. “I'd love to see you dance.”
“Certainly not!” Caroline said in the same moment Laurie said, “No.”
“Not until we've had dessert, at the very least,” Oliver said, breezing in. “Albert, Caroline tells me you shifted your investments around again. Care to give a few tips?”
Laurie's father, mellowed back into business bland, began to explain the complexities of his portfolio, and the rest of the table went back to eating. Except Laurie couldn't. He was so angry, and so...hurt. And he didn't know why. And it was making him crazy.
He felt Ed's hand on his thigh, then felt his breath on his ear.
“You're mad. Did I do something?”
Laurie shook his head. “I'm fine,” he said unconvincingly. Ed said nothing, but he kept his hand on Laurie's leg and stroked him reassuringly through the rest of the meal.
After, however, Oliver brought up a dance performance again, and to Laurie's surprise, this time it was Ed who objected.
“Nah, let's save it for later,” he said. “Not really room in here anyway.”
“But there's a studio out back, I thought!” Christopher teased. “Come on. You have us all curious now.”
“Can't.” Ed rubbed at his neck and gave an apologetic shrug.
Laurie immediately felt horrible for not noticing. “I'll get your pills. We left them in the car, right?”
Ed stayed him with a hand. “It's okay.”
Laurie looked up at him, ready to argue, because if the pain was bad enough that Ed couldn't dance, it had to be very bad. And then he got a closer look at him and realized that no. Ed was just lying.
<
br /> For him.
And for whatever reason, that realization tipped Laurie back over the edge. “We'll do it,” he said. When Ed started to protest, he squeezed his arm. “Ed's right. People should see how good we are.”
He was still nervous, though, and he held Ed's hand all the way out to the studio. He wasn't sure why, exactly, he was doing this. He thought it might be to show up his father, to make him watch his big burly football player dance. He thought he might be thumbing his nose at his mother as well. He was too scared to be bragging, but he felt some of that too, all the same.
When the others settled along the far wall and he and Ed went out onto the floor together, however, he realized that mostly he was simply out of sorts and wanted, right now, to dance with his partner.
He'd cued up a tango, and after a whispered suggestion to Ed, he simply let go and followed. He heard their audience's gasps—he'd urged a very showy start—but after that, all he heard was the music. All he felt was the beating of his heart and the heat of Ed's body, the power behind his embrace.
All he knew was the dance.
Only four people watched, but Laurie was glad. When he'd gone down in flames in Toronto, it had been such a mighty, incredible fall, but somehow he knew even a slight tumble now would bruise him to the bone. He had no ego left to cage him, no grit or anger at the world, no arrogance to blind him, not anymore. Even this, dancing for his parents, for Oliver and for Christopher, felt too much, too loud, too dangerous, and the fear pushed on him with every step.
But with every step Ed was there to catch him. Ed led him, Ed bore him up, and no matter how quick the turn or steep the slide, Ed always brought him home.
When the song finished, for a second there was only silence, and Laurie clung to Ed, who clung right back. Then Oliver started to clap, and then Christopher, and then they all were. “Amazing,” Oliver said, and Laurie dared to look at them. They were all wide-eyed. They were all moved. Even his mother.
He wasn't sure if that made him feel better or not.
The remainder of the evening was subdued. They made small talk through drinks, and Laurie's mother even kissed his cheek as he left with Ed to go home, but not much of their tension had gone despite Oliver's attempt to heal them. He wasn't angry with her anymore, exactly, but he was still angry or at least agitated. If anything, he was worse, and to add insult to injury, he didn't know why.
Neither he nor Ed said much as they drove home, but halfway across town Ed finally sighed and said, “I'm sorry.”
Laurie glanced at him, surprised. “For what?”
Ed shrugged. “I don't know. But I can tell I did something.”
“You didn't do anything.” Laurie stared out the window. “I shouldn't have let Oliver trick me into going. It's him I'm angry at. I think.”
Ed paused for a moment. “I guess I don't get why you're so mad. I mean, yeah, your mom is kind of intense. But she loves you. I can tell.”
“My father certainly loved you,” Laurie shot out before he could help himself. He winced and tried to backtrack. “I'm sorry. That was uncalled for.”
“Is that what's wrong?” Ed pressed. “You're mad because your dad liked me? But I don't get it. That's not good?”
“He doesn't like me. He never has more than two seconds for me, is embarrassed of me, but he hears you play football, and it doesn't even matter that you're gay. You're a god. And as usual, I'm nothing. Just my family's disappointment.” Laurie tipped his head back and shut his eyes. “Forget it. I'm being ridiculous. I'm just tired and need to go to bed.”
But Ed was pulling off the road onto the shoulder. He stopped the car, put the hazards on, and turned to Laurie.
Laurie looked around at the cars whizzing by them. “Ed, we can't stop here.”
“Look at me, Laurie.”
There was a strange tone to his voice, and Laurie was almost nervous to turn to Ed. When he hesitated, Ed reached out and gently held his chin. The intensity of Ed's gaze made Laurie go still.
Ed stroked the sides of Laurie's face as he spoke, never letting his eyes move away. “You aren't a disappointment, Laurie. Not to me.”
Emotion rose up without warning, and Laurie tried to turn away. “It's okay,” he whispered, but his voice broke.
Ed drew him back. “No,” he said firmly. “Listen to me. You aren't a disappointment. Not to me, and not to Oliver. I can't speak for your parents.” He sighed. “I'm sorry about your dad. I wish I had figured that out. I'm sorry. But Laurie—shit, baby.” He laughed, a rueful sound. “Laur, God, you have no idea. Here I've been all bent out of shape, feeling like a big heel because you're always having to take care of me.”
That made Laurie look up. “But I like taking care of you.”
Ed kissed his forehead. “I know, baby. I know.” He let his lips rest a moment longer, then pulled back reluctantly. “You're right. I can't sit here too long.”
They drove the rest of the way in silence, but it was changed somehow. Laurie still felt agitated, but he felt a little less hollow.
He felt a little more centered as he opened the door to the loft and saw not just Ed's things but his own. My home, he thought, still trying out the idea. He wasn't set up yet, so it was mostly his mess, but it was real now. He was living here. With Ed.
He sat beside Ed on his own couch as they watched Ed's television, drinking tea from one of his own mugs. He relaxed as Ed's hand stroked his side, but he didn't pay any attention to the program, only thought back to dancing with Ed at his parents’ house.
You aren't a disappointment to me.
When he lay down beside Ed that night, as he curled up beside Ed beneath the blanket—his own blankets, his good, clean sheets—he shut his eyes and let his forehead rest against Ed's chest.
I don't ever want to disappoint you, he thought, quiet desperation closing his throat. I want to stay here, like this. Always. I don't want to just take care of you. I want you to take care of me too.
It was less of a plea and more of a revelation: small, quiet, and terrible. He drew a deep breath and let it out on a shudder, sliding his arms around Ed's big, strong body.
Ed embraced him back and kissed his hair. “You okay, baby?”
Laurie nodded and hugged him back. So long as I'm with you, he added silently. I'm okay, so long as I'm with you.
[Back to Table of Contents]
* * *
Chapter Eighteen
seguir: to follow
The weekend before the benefit at the center, Oliver had Ed and Laurie over for dinner.
Everything for the program was arranged, and as Oliver had urged, everything would be held at the center. Dinner, catered by a St. Paul restaurant donating both the food and services, would be first, held in the same gymnasium where Laurie still led aerobics classes. While volunteers cleared this away and rearranged the seating, Vicky and Laurie would give tours of the center itself and hand out folders containing both what Ed called the propaganda and the financial nitty-gritty of the center's needs now and in the future. Then would come the program, composed largely of center youth and their families and some of Laurie's classes from both studios, and at the end the board would work the room over cocktails, trying to secure donations and sponsorships. It was all set up. All arranged. All they had to do was arrive on Saturday afternoon and follow the script.
The dinner, Oliver said, was to congratulate Laurie on his first job well done.
“I'll turn you into a professional philanthropist yet,” Oliver said, pouring Laurie a second glass of wine as Christopher put the finishing touches on dinner. “Of course, you'll do better when you make a little money again, but for now, this is a fine enough start.”
“Now you just need to convince him to perform solo,” Christopher called from the kitchen.
“Working on it,” Ed replied from the den.
Oliver laughed and clapped Laurie gently on the back as he sighed into his wine. Then he leaned closer.
“A fine, fine young man you
have there, Laurence. And I will be doing my damnedest to get the pair of you into the hot tub later.”
“Oliver!” Laurie said, not caring that he sounded like an astonished virgin.
“Oh, come now. I'm not talking about a foursome. But I wouldn't mind seeing your partner's fine form lit by lanterns and glistening with hot, foamy water either.”
Laurie took a deeper drink of his wine and went to find solace in Ed.
“Nice place,” Ed said as Laurie sidled up to him.
“Oliver wants to see you naked,” Laurie said.
Ed laughed. “Okay, didn't see that coming.”
“He wants us to hot tub with them later.” Laurie drank more. “He's always been after me to loosen up. I think he sees this as his big chance.”
“Well, I surely won't mind.” Ed cupped Laurie's ass and kissed him on the cheek.
Dinner was exquisite, as it always was when Christopher cooked. Christopher was vegetarian, but as he promised, “You won't miss the meat.” After snacking on vegetarian tapenade, they had caprese salad and rosemary focaccia, followed by lasagna florentine. They finished with sweet cream over fresh berries for dessert, with some ice wine on the side. By the time it was over, Laurie was full, happy, and more than a little tipsy. He accepted the glass of port Oliver handed him but frowned when he noticed Ed refused. And when he thought back on it, he realized Ed hadn't had anything to drink all evening—not alcoholic, anyway.
“Had to take two Vicodin already tonight,” Ed confessed when Laurie asked him about it.
Two? It was hell to get Ed to take one, but two? And he wasn't giddy and acting drunk, just slightly foggy at best. Which meant he'd been taking enough lately to build up a tolerance. Which meant he'd been hurting. And hadn't said anything. Laurie put his wine down and gave Ed a severe look.
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