The Maple Murders
Page 6
“Maybe we didn’t try hard enough,” Veronica countered.
“Come back for one more dance, at the very least!” Betty said, earnest and eager.
I didn’t want to be a bummer. But I had to be honest. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t want to grind up on strangers. It’s not me. I don’t know what I expected would happen here. But this wasn’t it.”
I sighed. Even though I was finally—finally!—surrounded by other gay people (aka the thing I wanted literally more than anything), I’d never felt more alone.
“Okay,” Betty said, slowly seeing that I wasn’t just exaggerating or being melodramatic. “So what next?”
“No, you two stay,” I insisted. “Have fun. You’re having a good time. I don’t need to ruin your night. I’m going to go home and watch The Matchelorette. I hear Kelsey gets kicked out of the champagne sauna tonight.”
“Spoiler alert!” Veronica protested. “But okay. If you’re sure.”
“So sure.”
“Brunch tomorrow at Pop’s?” Betty suggested.
“Definitely.”
I thought about stopping by Fox Forest on my way home—old habits die hard, and for a long time after I first came out, it was the only place I felt like I could be my true self. When I felt alone, it was a place to meet other people like me. Sometimes we just talked. Sometimes, more. I’d met a few closeted guys—I’m not naming names—but we all knew everything changed when Jason Blossom was murdered. I may be lonely, but I definitely don’t have a death wish.
So, instead, I went home. Dad was up when I got in, settled on the couch with a bowl of popcorn and the remote in hand. He looked surprised to see me. “Thought you were sleeping at Betty’s.”
“I bailed,” I said, closing the door behind me. “We all snuck into a gay bar.”
If Dad was scandalized, he didn’t show it at all. “Doesn’t look like you had a very good time,” he observed.
“I didn’t,” I admitted. “I left early.”
Dad gave me a look and gestured to the space beside him on the couch. I sat down, resting my hands on my knees. “The bar was filled with guys, Dad,” I started.
“And you didn’t meet someone nice, your age?” he guessed.
“No. And I have this sinking feeling that I never will.” The thought was too unbearable. My throat tightened at the words.
Dad took a deep breath, obviously thinking hard about how to navigate this Important Parenting Moment. Credit where credit is due—he always tries.
“Listen, Kevin,” he began. “I can’t tell you when it’ll happen for you—college, when you move to New York for your Broadway career—”
“My what now?”
“—who the heck knows?”
“Very inspiring,” I joked.
“But one thing I do know? You’re not gonna be alone, kiddo.” He grabbed me in a manly sort of one-armed hug.
Cheesy as it sounds, even though it solved exactly none of my problems, that hug from my dad—coupled with a hefty dose of empathy—meant everything. And it made me feel worlds better. No matter how alone I felt in my dating life, I wasn’t alone in life-life. Friends and family weren’t romance, but they weren’t nothing. Not by any stretch.
I swiped the remote from his side. “Barefoot Contessa? Or Great British Bake Off?”
“I was watching that mystery series, Kevin,” he said, before relenting. “What about that Matchelorette? With the sauna where they all drink too much?”
I flipped the channel and helped myself to some of his popcorn. It was still warm.
“Did glitter just fall out of your hair?” he asked, bewildered.
“Probably.”
He laughed. After a minute, I did, too.
My door clicked in its doorjamb as Josie left. I heard her retreat to her bedroom, and after a minute, I heard the smooth sound of her vocal exercises, her deep, sweet voice skipping up and down the scales. It was soothing, and a nice reminder: No matter how I felt, no matter how brutal the dating world had been—I wasn’t alone.
Innuendo had been a bust. Online dating was traumatizing. And I’d vowed to myself and my loved ones that I’d never go cruising in Fox Forest again. So maybe that all added up to a little more time being single.
But Dad was right—who cares, anyway? It’s not that big of a deal.
I had friends and family who love me; I was just getting started.
Veronica:
Hey, Archiekins: Can I ask impose on you for a huge favor?
Archie:
Any time. You know that.
Veronica:
It turns out I’m a little shorthanded for accepting delivery of the drinks for tonight’s after-party. Reggie is apparently “training” in preparation for the pageant, lifting with Chuck Clayton and some of the other Bulldogs who are signed up. He wants to be—and I quote—“ripped AF.”
Archie:
He knows there actually ISN’T a swimsuit portion, right?
Veronica:
And yet.
Veronica:
Anyway, I have some Serpents around to help, and I hate to be the cliche of a damsel in distress, but I could really use your broad shoulders for a half hour or two.
Archie:
You can have as much of me for as long as you want. Just have to finish helping Dad dig up the time capsule for tonight. It’s so old—it’s a delicate job.
Veronica:
I thought your dad had done that already.
Archie:
He tried to. But apparently he had to get the map to its exact location from Pop, and he wasn’t around until this afternoon.
Veronica:
Pop? That seems random.
Archie:
Yeah, I guess. Hey—Dad’s calling. See you soon?
Veronica:
Of course!