by TJ Klune
I swiped over Brian’s profile (which proclaimed him to be DOWN WITH MOST THINGS) to the next. The second profile was another frat boy taking a selfie in front of a mirror in a messy bedroom with his U of A cap on backward. And that was all he was wearing. Thankfully, he was covering his junk with his free hand. Either he had tiny junk or big hands.
Next was a man in a furry mask. I thought he was supposed to be a golden retriever.
I wasn’t into puppy play.
The next profile proudly proclaimed NO FATS NO FEMS, like it was some kind of badge of honor. I hoped he found the joys of herpes in his near future.
The profile after that seemed nice at first, until I read the very last sentence in his profile where there was a hashtag followed by four letters that made me want to vomit. “Make America great again, my ass,” I muttered. “Fucking psycho.”
If my life was a romantic comedy, I would have kept scrolling before coming across the profile of a certain college professor. It would read that he was new to this whole Grindr thing and that he really wasn’t into hookups. He wanted, he would write, someone to hang out with, someone to listen to terrible music with. And then he would go on to say that there was someone he was interested in, someone charismatic and beautiful and wicked awesome whose name rhymed with Maury, but that person was off-limits. It hurt his heart, he’d lament, and he would probably just delete this profile because no one else could compare.
I would swipe right, and we would connect, and after a bit of back and forth (“Yes, it’s really me, Jeremy! I promise. I’ve been waiting for you!”), we would meet up. It would be awkward and filled with blushing and stolen glances before he would take my hand in his and whisper that he’d wanted this for so long, and fuck the fact that he was my boss, he would quit and then everything would be sunshine (“Just like the color of my Jeep,” he’d whisper earnestly) and roses. He would quit Phoenix House (because I needed the job more than he did, and he was nothing if not magnanimous), and we would go antiquing in an alley behind an Indian restaurant.
But since my life was not a romantic comedy, there was no such profile. Instead I got one with a shirtless guy holding a rifle. The caption above the picture read: YTES ONLY.
“Yeah,” I said to this pinnacle of masculine bigotry. “I hope that works out for you.”
I closed the app, trying not to think about how long it’d been since I’d gotten laid. There’d been a couple of guys since I’d come to Tucson, but nothing serious. I wasn’t hardwired for the hookup culture that seemed to permeate the younger queer community in Tucson. It wasn’t something I was interested in. It certainly didn’t help that on weekend nights after Jack It closed, people gathered outside in what was known as the Meat Market, a last desperate grab to find someone to go home with and fuck.
You tended not to form long-lasting romantic relationships at a gay bar.
Okay. There was Paul and Vince, sure.
And now that I thought about it, Sandy and Darren. But they were the outliers.
Until I remembered that Ty and Dom had had their first kiss inside Jack It too, and realized that I hated everything.
I threw down the phone and banged my head on the desk.
“So lame,” I whispered to no one in particular.
A few minutes later, just when I was about to give up and put on sweats and plop myself down in front of the TV, my phone vibrated.
I stared at it for a moment.
Had I accidentally swiped right on YTES ONLY? Oh god. Was he going to be in for a surprise.
Instead there was a text from Charlie. You want to go grab some lunch?
Sweet, wonderful Charlie.
Beautiful Charlie.
Charlie, who had been studiously avoiding me ever since the revelation that Jeremy and Robert lived only a couple of blocks away.
I hadn’t gone to the bar the past couple of weeks. Working a full-time job was more exhausting than I’d realized, and the idea of going out had made me physically feel like dying. I’d always heard that your twenties were for partying until all hours of the night, and then your thirties were pajamas at eight. I couldn’t wait until I turned thirty because I was already there in spirit.
Sandy had been there, of course, but I didn’t think he’d remembered to chew Charlie out. He tended to get distracted. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’d forgotten about it altogether.
Then I got suspicious. Charlie texting me out of the blue to go out? We were the ones who always had to text him.
I wrote back. Is this because I’m alone and realizing I have only a few friends and they’re all screwing each other and happy?
It took a few minutes for him to respond. Yes.
Great! Where do you want to go?
IT TURNED out he wanted to go to an old diner downtown that served tater tots covered in cheese. Which was absolutely okay with me.
The older waitress smiled at us as she took our order and sashayed away after patting Charlie on the shoulder, telling him it was good to see him again. She moved with a practiced swish of her hips through the throngs of people that filled the restaurant. When we’d arrived, there was already a wait list, but they’d seated us right away when they’d seen Charlie.
“You a regular?” I asked him from across the cracked vinyl booth.
Charlie shrugged. “You could say that. This place has been around for a few decades. Vaguyna and I used to come here after her shows.”
I blinked in surprise at the mention of Vaguyna again. “You did?”
He nodded as he sipped his tea. He’d forgone his leather jacket (fortunately, seeing as how it was approaching triple digits outside) but had a leather cuff on each wrist and a piece of leather hanging around his neck on a silver chain. He looked comfortable in his skin, which always made me happy. “We’d sit right here or thereabouts. She’d still have her makeup on and a feather boa wrapped around her shoulders.” He smiled quietly. “People always thought by looking at her that she’d be loud, and sometimes she was. She was a drag queen, after all. But when we came here, it wasn’t about that. She was quiet. Almost… contemplative, I guess. They used to have these old mahjong tiles, and we’d play until the sun came up. She needed it, I think, to shed the Vaguyna persona.”
I sighed dreamily. “That sounds wonderful.”
“She was trans too, you know.”
I nodded. “I figured as much. The pronouns. You always refer to her as her. Sandy does too.”
“Though back then, you were more likely to hear it called transsexual or cross-dresser. It got better toward the end. Not by much, but it did.” He shook his head. “Some queens didn’t like her because of that. They said she was an insult to the art of drag. They had this fool notion in their heads that drag culture was supposed to be men performing as women and nothing else. You know what she told them?”
“Hopefully to fuck off. Drag kings exist too, after all.”
He grinned, his face craggy and wonderful. “A little more colorful, if you can believe that.” He fiddled with the handle to his mug. “I was very lucky when she took me under her wing. I was much older than most of the other people there, but like a baby deer on wobbly legs. She watched as I fucked my way through half the people in the bar before she told me that was quite enough.”
“Cracked that whip, did she?” I teased.
He laughed. “It was… good. Those years. Hard, but good. I felt guilt a lot of the time. I’d had a family. Kids. I thought I was betraying some part of myself, though I’d felt the same when I played the role of the semifunctional heterosexual. It was a catch-22.”
“How’d you get past it?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know that I ever really did. It took a long time for me to learn to love myself. Vaguyna played a large part in that, but she couldn’t do it all. She understood that I needed to grieve and allowed me to do so. I still have days when I think I did the wrong thing. Days when I wish things could be different. But then I look around and I see you kids and everythi
ng you’re doing and I think it’ll be okay.”
I reached across the table and took his hand in mine, squeezing tightly. “We’re lucky to have you.”
“You’re damn right you are,” he said gruffly. “These days, young people don’t seem interested in hearing the stories of who came before them and fought for them to have the freedoms they do now. They’re all focused on their phones and who they’re going to fuck next.” He pulled his hand away. “Not all, of course. You and Paul and Sandy and Darren and Vince don’t seem to mind having an old fart around.”
I was struck by something that hadn’t occurred to me. I didn’t know why I’d never thought about it before. “What do you think about coming into Phoenix House? Maybe talking to some of the people there?”
He looked surprised. “Me?”
“Sure. I think it’d be great for them to hear from you.”
He shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know that I’d have much to say.”
I shook my head. “I think you do. It wouldn’t have to be for long, and I bet they’d have a ton of questions for you. Kind of like bridging the gap, right?”
“I’ve got a busy couple of weeks coming up,” he said. “The Leathermen of Tucson are holding their annual Mr. Leather contest at the bar. I gotta be there for that.”
Ah, yes. Charlie’s other life. He wasn’t just a staple at Jack It. He was a towering figure at Build-a-Bear Sweat Shop. Sandy had been a couple of times and said Charlie was treated like a god there. I was curious about it, but not enough to work up the courage to actually go inside. I would be picked out as a fraud the moment I stepped in. “How’s that going?”
He shrugged. “As it usually does.”
“So lots of men in chaps, then.”
He laughed. “Sounds about right.”
“Whenever you’re ready, and only if you want to. I’ll be there all summer, so if you do want to come in at some point, just let me know. I can get it set up.”
“Can I think about it?”
I smiled at him. “Of course you can. And you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I’m not going to lie and say they don’t make me want to pull my hair out most days. They can be little shits.”
“Like you were?” he asked, lips quirking.
I rolled my eyes. “Worse, if you can believe that.”
“You seem to be doing a good job with them. They listen to you.”
I frowned. “How would you know that?”
“Robert said Jeremy told him—” His eyes widened. “Um. Never mind. Let’s talk about something else. I should go see if they still have mahjong. Teach you how to play. It’s not hard to learn.” He started to get up.
“Charlie,” I said sweetly. “Sit your ass down.”
He groaned but did as I asked. He glared at me, and the expression would have been frightening to anyone who didn’t know him, and possibly to most of the people who did. It didn’t affect me in the slightest, because Charlie was family and I could see right through the roughness.
“Are we done talking about feelings and happy things?” I asked innocently.
“We don’t have to be,” he said. “Have I told you how beautiful you look today?”
I snorted. I was wearing an oversized shirt I’d found in the laundry basket—probably one of Darren’s. I had on shorts and flip-flops, and my hair was pulled back in a bandana. I’d been wearing the same thing all day. Yes, I probably did look beautiful, but only to a certain individual trying to distract me. “Thank you. I also see right through you.”
He sighed. “Dammit. All right. Let me have it.”
I sat forward, putting my elbows on the table and resting my chin on my hands. “How is Robert doing?”
He eyed me warily. “Fine.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes.”
“Everything good there?”
“Just grand,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Do you take strolls through the park holding hands?” Uh-oh. I was getting distracted. “Oh my god, do you? Tell me you do and when you do it! I need to be there to take pictures!”
“We don’t stroll through the park,” he retorted. “It’s too hot for that.”
I squinted at him. “Then where do you stroll together holding hands?”
His eyes shifted side to side. “Well… there’s… you see, it’s not like—”
I gaped at him. “Please tell me it’s at the mall before the stores open like all the other old people do in order to get their steps in.”
“Only two days a week,” he snapped. “And when we finish, we get smoothies.”
I barely kept from screaming. “Jesus Christ,” I hissed at him. “Do you have any fucking idea how goddamn adorable that is?”
“And you don’t tell another soul about it,” he said. “I swear if I find out you’ve told Sandy or Paul, I will put you over my knee so fast.”
I waved him away. “Promises, promises.” I grinned evilly at him. “Do you threaten Robert the same way?”
“Where are those goddamn tater tots?” he snarled, looking around for the waitress. “You know what? Forget it. We’re leaving.”
“We are most certainly not. We’re going to stay right here, and you’re going to tell me about how in love you are and that you’ve never been happier and—hold up.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “You were trying to distract me!”
He scoffed. “You’d be surprised how easy that is with all of you. I barely have to lift a finger.”
“Rude. But most likely true. But that’s a problem to be addressed another day. We have more important things to focus on at the moment. We’re going to—”
“Can I get you more hot water for your tea, Charlie?” the waitress asked, appearing out of nowhere. “Your food will be out in a bit. We got busier than we expected. There’s a line out the door.”
“That’d be great, Sally,” Charlie said, looking relieved. “In fact, why don’t you pour yourself a cup and take a load off right here with—”
“Just try it, old man,” I whispered to him. “See how far you get.”
She laughed. “Oh, I wish I could. But we’re down a girl today. Out sick, the poor thing, but that means I’ve got to pick up the slack. Next time, huh?”
Charlie started to protest, but she disappeared back into the crowd.
I shook my head slowly at him. “For shame, Charlie. You think you could have used her as a shield? I would have gone right through her. Just you and me here, Daddy. Let’s dance.”
He turned his face toward the stained tile ceiling, as if praying for patience. I almost told him his god wouldn’t hear him now, but I thought that was probably going a bit too far. “All right,” he finally said. “Go. But don’t think I’ll forget the impertinence. When you least expect it, I’ll have my revenge.”
“Wow,” I breathed. “That was completely believable. And weirdly sexy. I’m very conflicted at the moment.”
He snorted. “Boy, if you only knew.”
“It has come to my attention that you’ve been withholding information.”
He tapped his fingers on the table as if bored. He was good. “That right?”
“Yes. Important information.”
He looked barely affected. “Don’t think I quite know what you’re going on about.”
“I think you do,” I said ominously. “I think you know very well.”
He arched a bushy eyebrow at me. “Why don’t you tell me what it is I know you know that you think I’m supposed to know?”
I floundered. “Wait. Hold on. That—what? It’s not that you know what I think you know that you know. It’s that I know what you didn’t want me to know that I actually now know.”
“Is there a difference?”
“I don’t… know?”
He grinned at me, showing strong teeth. “Oh, child. You shouldn’t be playing a man’s game if you can’t keep up. You’re in over your head.”
I gasped. “How very dare you.”
&
nbsp; “It’s the truth, sweetheart.”
“Don’t you sweetheart me. I am playing this game because I am a man—sometimes—and know what’s up. In fact, I invented the game!”
He smiled smugly. “What were we talking about again?”
I wasn’t quite sure. “Well, you see, there was… huh. Give me a minute.”
He sipped his tea again. “Take all the time you need.”
I didn’t know where I’d been derailed. Was he right? Did I not know how to play the game? I wasn’t even sure what game we were playing. Wasn’t there something about mahjong? I didn’t even know what the fuck mahjong was. Good word, though. “Mahjong,” I said aloud. “Maaah-jong.”
He nodded. “Oh, you got me. That’s right. I was going to go see if they still had the—”
“Aha!” I cried. “I was just fucking with you! I knew exactly what I was going to ask. We need to talk about—”
“Here we go,” Sally said cheerfully. She poured more hot water for Charlie from a metal pot. “And I have two handsome gentlemen that just came in to be seated who said they know you. Would it be all right if they joined you so they don’t have to wait?”
Charlie frowned at her. “Who on earth could—”
And then the impossible happened.
Something I’d never seen before.
The blood rushed from Charlie’s face.
He looked pale.
I was immediately concerned. “Are you okay?” I craned my neck toward the front of the restaurant. “Is it Sandy and Darren? That’s weird. I thought Sandy was sitting on Darren’s—”
No, it wasn’t Sandy and Darren.
