Looking For Answers
Patrick Murray sat in the barbershop chair and stared at his reflection in the mirror before him. His hair was gone. Yes, he'd told Richie to shave his head, but he had not been prepared to see so little hair on his head. The last time his hair had been so short he'd been welcomed into the world for the first time.
"Well, pato what do you think?" Richie asked, setting the electric razor down.
"It's…different," Patrick answered softly.
"Is that not what you wanted?"
"No, it is," Patrick assured him. "This is just a me I haven't seen in a long time."
"Is everything okay? You're acting kinda odd, I have to say."
Patrick took a deep breath. There was a part of him that wanted to tell Richie the truth; that his real-life Prince Charming, Kevin Matheson wasn't quite so charming after all. Sure, Kevin was attractive, and generous, and got along well with everyone, well, everyone except for his sister Megan, but still….Kevin wanted permission to screw around outside of their monogamous relationship. He hadn't even deleted his Grindr profile.
How could tell Richie that? He had dated Richie before getting involved with Kevin, who also happened to be his boss. While he had liked Richie very much, he had not been emotionally ready f for a full blown relationship with him. It had broken both of their hearts to break up, but it had been the right thing to do. Somehow, they'd managed to strike up a friendship despite it all, and Richie was with Brady now, but still, how could Richie not glean a little bit of satisfaction from knowing that the man who was everything for Patrick that he could not be had somehow fallen short ?
"Patrick?" Richie said softly, jarring Patrick from his inner musings.
"Uh, yeah," Patrick lied, clearing his throat. "Just, like I said, I was tired of looking like a middle-aged lesbian."
Richie chuckled. "Well, pato, while I appreciate the fact that you trusted me with your precious hair, I am curious why you chose me when you already have a hairdresser."
Patrick blinked, trying to come up with a quick lie. "I was just in the neighborhood….."
"This early in the morning? You never get up before noon on the weekends if you can help it.
Don't tell him. Don't tell him, Patrick's inner voice said over and over. "I'm meeting Augustín, Dom, and Doris for breakfast," he lied.
Richie seemed to accept this. He nodded and took the smock from around Patrick.
Patrick stood up and reached into his back pocket for his wallet.
"No, no. This one's on me," Richie said.
"I can't let you do that," Patrick protested, thumbing through his wallet.
"What are friends for, right?" Richie smiled and Patrick remembered how happy that smile had made him for the short while that they had been together.
"Thank you, Richie. I appreciate it. Really."
"Anytime."
Silence fell upon them and hung there like a shroud blocking out the sun, neither knowing what to say. Finally, Richie chewed his lip and said, "What time are you meeting your friends for breakfast?"
Patrick started. "Oh, crap. I'll be late for that. Thanks. Uh, I'll see you around?" he asked hopefully.
"Sure. We can go on a double date again sometime."
"Sure." Patrick hurriedly walked off so that Richie wouldn't see the fact that his smile was as fake as $3 bill.
Agustín Lanuez unlocked the door to his apartment, well, the apartment that he shared with Patrick. Rather, Patrick's apartment that he let Agustín crash at free of charge.
Now that Patrick had moved in with Kevin, Agustín would need to find a new place to live. The only problem was he didn't really have any money. Working at the homeless shelter for LGBT youth was fulfilling on so many levels, but monetarily was not one of them.
He walked into the apartment and turned to face his boyfriend Eddie. Eddie was a bear, and HIV positive, but Agustín was absolutely head of heels for the big guy.
"Hurry up and grab your clothes, we're going to be late for the shelter," Eddie said, shooing Agustín along.
"I could always just take my clothes off and go naked," Agustín teased, grinning.
Eddie's face lit up with a big smile that made Agustín want to kiss him with a fiery passion and hold him and never let him go. "I've seen you naked, not much to shout about," Eddie fired back.
Agustín clapped his hand to his breast and opened his mouth in mock surprise. "Ouch!" he said, laughing. "Tell me how you really feel."
"I thought I did that when I asked you to be my boyfriend." Eddie's voice lost its barbing tone.
Agustín felt a warmth wash over him. This is what it felt like to be in an actual relationship with someone who loved you and whom you loved back. Sure, he had loved his ex-boyfriend Frank, but their relationship dynamic had been vastly different. Frank has always supported Agustín and looked after him, but with Eddie, they were equals.
He smiled at Eddie and then hurried down to his bedroom. He went in his closet and grabbed out a fresh pair of jeans and a shirt and quickly stripped naked before dressing again. He heard the door open into the apartment as he was buttoning his jeans. Eddie must have stepped out for a second, he thought with a shrug.
This theory was proved wrong when Agustín started hearing footsteps coming down the hall toward his room.
The door creaked open and there stood Patrick….sans hair.
"Oh, my God, Paddy, you scared the shit out of me!" Agustín exclaimed.
"Sorry," Patrick replied quietly.
"What did you do to your hair?"
"I had Richie shave it off."
"But you're very particular about your hair!"
"I was ready for change," Patrick confessed.
Agustín nodded slowly in understanding. "Did things going okay with Kevin last night? You guys never showed up at the shelter."
"Yeah, sorry. Things are….weird to say the least." Patrick's face was pinched – with pain or sadness— Agustín couldn't tell.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Augustín offered.
"That would be great. Do you think we could meet Dom and Doris for breakfast somewhere? I really need you guys right now."
"Of course," Agustín replied. "I'll take the day off work. I'm sure the shelter will understand."
"I appreciate it," Patrick said.
Agustín went into the living room to find Eddie sitting on the couch. "Is everything okay?" Eddie asked, looking past Agustín toward the bedrooms.
"He's having relationship problems," Agustín answered quietly enough that his voice wouldn't carry back to Patrick.
"Trouble in paradise?" Eddie queried, only slightly cattily.
"Something like that. Listen, do you think you could handle it without me for an hour or so? Patrick really needs me to be there for him and…."
"Say no more," Eddie cut in. "You have a huge heart, Agustín Lenuez, it's one of the things I like most about you."
"Thanks for understanding."
Eddie leaned in and brushed his lips against Agustín's. "Call me later?"
"I will," Agustín promised.
"Okay. Bye."
"Bye."
Eddie opened the door and with one last glance back at Agustín, he stepped over the threshold and pulled the door closed behind him.
Agustín returned the bedroom to find Patrick gone. He went to Patrick's old room and found him standing in the emptiness.
"I'm going to call Dom and give him a heads up, okay, Paddy?" Agustín said gently.
"Thanks," Patrick said again, sounding a million miles away.
Agustín pulled out his cell phone and scrolled through his contacts until he came to Dom. He clicked the Call button and waited for the call to go through. After a few rings, Dom answered.
"Yeah?"
"Hey, Dom. Can you meet Paddy and I for breakfast. It's important."
"I'm kind of busy at the restaurant…."
"It's important," Agustín iterated.
"Okay." Dom sighed. "Where?"
"That café with the really good croissants?"
"Okay. I'll see you there in a bit."
"Oh, and bring Doris, too."
"What's going on, Agustín?"
"Lord only knows."
Agustín ended the call and turned to Patrick. "Okay, they'll meet us. We should get going."
"You're a good friend," Patrick said with a tight smile.
"You never say that…." Agustín was surprised. Just what had transpired between Patrick and Kevin last night? Surely a silly Grindr account wasn't that big of a deal?
Doris and Dom sat in a booth sharing a basket of croissants and drinking their cups of coffee. Patrick and Agustín had not shown up yet, and the two old friends were curious about Augustín's urgent call.
"So, what do you think is going on?" Doris asked, popping the last of her croissant into her mouth.
"Beats me," Dom said with a shrug. "Agustín sounded serious on the phone."
"Maybe he's pregnant," Doris joked.
"Ye Gods," Dom muttered.
"Or Eddie broke it off."
"Maybe they're getting married."
"Adopting a baby?"
Doris chuckled. "Well, whatever it is, I'm glad we're not fighting anymore."
"Me, too." Dom smiled. He reached across the table and took Doris's hand in his, squeezing it tightly.
"I really am sorry about the money, Dom. I wanted to help you with the food window. Fucking Uncle Bunny."
"It just wasn't meant to be. It's okay. It's my dream and I'll have to figure it out on my own."
"Well, you still have my support. I'll hostess, I'll help paint, set up, whatever. Your dream will come true, man."
"Let's hope so."
Agustín and Patrick suddenly sat down at the booth. Dom and Doris both looked over and started when they saw Patrick with close cropped hair.
"What, uh, what happened to your hair?" Doris asked, tapping her fingers on the table top.
"Yeah, Paddy, spill," Agustín chirped.
Patrick forced a smile onto his face. "I just…you know….I got sick of looking like a middle-aged lesbian."
"What?" Doris roared with laughter.
"You did not look like a middle-aged lesbian," Dom assured him.
"Don't middle-aged lesbians have mullets?" Agustín concluded.
"There's more," Patrick relented.
"Is this about the Grindr thing?"
"What Grindr thing?" Dom asked.
Before Patrick could answer, the waitress appeared with water. "Can I get you two anything to drink?"
"Hot tea for me, please," Agustín answered.
"And you, honey?" the waitress turned to Patrick.
"The water's fine."
"Suit yourself." She went to go get Augustín's coffee.
Patrick sighed. "Last night on our way to shelter, Kevin and I stopped off at a party a gay couple in our building was throwing. Everyone was really nice, but they kept hinting at an orgy or, like, switching partners. A couple of guys were on Grindr trying to figure out who was who and there was a profile with the name that I recognized. Rompford. Kevin's from Romford.
"So, I asked him if he was the guy on Grindr and he told me that it was, that he'd just been on there to see who was in the building that was gay. I wasn't too happy about it, but it was understandable…but then he told me that he wanted permission to fool around with other guys."
"What?" Agustín exclaimed.
"Fool around how?" Dom queried.
"Like handjobs at the gym, that kind of thing," Patrick answered.
"Whoa," Doris murmured.
"What did you tell him?" Agustín asked.
"I told him that that's not what I wanted. I want a committed monogamous relationship."
"And?" Dom pressed.
"He thought I was making a big deal out of nothing."
"What are you going to do?"
"I don't know," Patrick confessed, shrugging. "I love him, I really do. But I don't want a relationship where we fool around with other people."
"That's understandable," Agustín agreed.
The waitress returned with Agustín's coffee. "Have you guys decided what you'd like?"
"We're going to need a bit," Doris informed her. "We've got bigger fish to fry."
"Give me a holler when you're ready," the waitress said as she departed.
"I know this sounds stupid," Patrick continued, "but I want to be one of those old gay couples that have been monogamous for, like, 50 years, and the young gay people will think of as pioneers."
"Pioneers?" Doris couldn't resist.
"He told me that he'd try to be faithful to me. He says that he loves me."
"For what it's worth, I think he does," Agustín encouraged.
Patrick looked at his friends and felt tears welling in his eyes. "I don't know what to do," he confessed, his voice croaking.
"Hey," Doris reached across the table and patted Patrick's hand. "He's a dick. You deserve better, Patrick. Don't waste your tears on him."
"I know, he's a dick, I do. But, God, I love him!"
"Maybe you should give it a try then," Dom suggested, stroking his moustache with his thumb.
"Really?" Doris challenged, quirking her eyebrows.
"He said he's willing to try. Isn't that all we can ask of someone? People fuck up, yes, but at least he's willing to try."
"Monogamy is kind of expected in a relationship," Doris countered.
"Guys," Patrick cut in. He didn't want to have to deal with one of Doris and Dom's spats. He looked at Augustín who had kept mum. "Agustín?"
"Well, I can't really weigh in," Agustín said. "I mean, yeah, Frank and I were exclusive for a while, but look at how that ended. We had a threesome, and then I paid a rent boy to fuck him, so…"
"Good point," Patrick relented. "I mean, do you guys think I'm blowing this out of proportion?"
Agustín, Dom, and Doris all exchanged silent looks before Doris finally spoke up.
"I think you are reacting the way any normal, sane person would. Who would want to share their partner with someone?"
"He never said anything about sex. Just handjobs, possibly blowjobs…" Patrick mused.
"If you think you can handle it, then give it a shot," Dom said. "He bought you guys an apartment, anyone can see he's nuts about you."
"Yeah?" Patrick smiled – genuinely – for the first time that day.
"You have to know what you want out of the relationship," Agustín added.
"I do. For the first time in my life I know exactly what I want."
"Good!"
Patrick's phone started to ring, his tone was techno music. He fished it out of his pocket and looked at the display screen. It was Kevin. He set the phone face down on the table.
"Kevin?" Agustín asked.
"Yeah."
"Are you going to answer it?" Doris looked at the phone questioningly.
"No. I need more time to think about things." Patrick sighed with his whole body, his shoulders rising and falling gregariously. "Enough about my drama, what about you guys? What's new? Agustín? How was your show at the shelter last night?"
"It went really well," Agustín beamed. Sammi's painting was a hit."
"That's great!" Doris encouraged.
"I, um, I have a confession to make."
"Oh?"
"I started taking PrEP last week."
"Is everything okay?" Patrick asked.
"Yeah, I just want to be as safe as I can. I mean, Eddie always wears a condom, but after the whole jizz in the eye thing…"
Patrick laughed. "That's probably a good idea."
"Looks like you guys sorted everything out over here," the waitress announced as she came back over. "I hear laughter."
"As sorted as it can be," Patrick agreed.
"What'll be, sweetie."
"I will have the pancakes, please."
"Good choice." She wrote Patrick's order down on her pad. "And you?" she asked, turning to Agustín.
"The three egg omelet."
"Coming right up."
Doris waited until the waitress was out of earshot before she said, "What the fuck is her problem?"
"What do you mean?" Patrick asked as he sipped water.
"Uh, who is that friendly in that line of work?"
"Don't you have to be?" Agustín challenged.
"It's a struggle," Dom confessed. He'd worked as a waiter for 15 years.
"She must be psychotic. She's probably one of those women that live alone in an apartment with, like, fifteen cats."
"If things don't work out with Kevin, that's probably where I'll end up." Patrick joked.
"Patrick, honey, no," Doris begged.
"Could be worse."
"Men don't want to fuck women with fifteen cats."
"It is kind of sad," Patrick relented. "You guys will stop me if start collecting cats like stamps, right?"
"Absolutely," Doris promised.
"I'll put you out of your misery myself," Agustín agreed.
"I won't be your friend anymore if you get cats," Dom said.
"What?" Patrick exclaimed.
"I hate cats. They're gross."
"They are not," Patrick argued, giggling. "They're cute and cuddly."
"Dogs are cute and cuddly."
"You can tell he was straight once upon a time," Doris replied dryly.
Patrick smiled. "Thank you guys so much for meeting me. This is exactly what I needed. "
"That's what we're here for," Dom assured him.
"I almost told Richie, but…something stopped me."
"Richie?" Agustín asked.
"Yeah. Richie cut my hair."
"Why did you go to Richie? What about your regular hairdresser."
"I don't know." Patrick shrugged. "I just needed to see a familiar face."
"And your hairdresser that you've had for years isn't a familiar face?"
"What's wrong with me going to see Richie?"
"I just…" Agustín sipped his tea. "I just feel like you still have feelings for him."
"I'll always have feelings for Richie," Patrick said. "But he's happy with Brady. Even if things didn't work out with Kevin, I think Richie and I are better off as friends."
"If you say so," Agustín muttered.
Patrick's phone went off again and he hit the IGNORE button.
The waitress came back with their food and left to take another order. "Those pancakes smell awesome!" Doris sniffed.
"Do you want some?" Patrick offered.
"Fuck it, I ate a light breakfast. A pancake or two won't kill me," Doris relented.
Patrick looked around the table at his three best friend s and was so grateful that despite their disagreements, he was not alone in the world.
After breakfast, Patrick and Agustín were walking through the city. Dom and Doris had had to go on with their day – Dom back to the restaurant to work on getting everything in order, and Doris to her hunky boyfriend Malik – leaving the two old friends on their own.
"I really appreciate this," Patrick said again, rubbing Agustín's shoulder.
"Don't mention it. I mean, how many times have you helped me?" Agustín felt good knowing that he could finally give something back to Patrick after all that he had done for him throughout their long friendship.
"I really don't want to be single again on Christmas," Patrick confessed.
"Don't stay with Kevin because you don't want to be alone on Christmas…"
"I'm not." Patrick stopped walking. "I have never felt like this about anyone. I know, I know I sound like a fourteen year old girl with her first crush, but it's true. Kevin is everything that I have ever wanted. I didn't realize it until last night."
"Well, I'm glad you're happy."
"Well, thank you."
"I mean, it Paddy. If anyone deserves it, it's you."
"Are you getting sappy on me?" Patrick teased.
"I just…" Agustín sighed. "I want you to know that you're better than that."
"Better than what?"
"A man who wants to fuck other people."
"He said he would try."
"Is that good enough for you?"
Patrick frowned. Was it good enough? "It is. For now."
"And if he slips?"
"I'll….." Patrick waved his hand. "I'll figure it out when I cross that bridge."
"Just be smart here, Paddy, okay?"
"I appreciate you looking out for me, Agustín, but I'm totally capable of looking after myself."
Agustín smiled. "Okay, you got me there." He took a deep breath. "Are you okay on your own? I should really get to the shelter."
"Yeah, of course. Go save homeless gay lives."
"I'm hardly saving lives," Agustín said.
"You're thinking about someone other than yourself."
"Point taken. Call me later?"
"I will," Patrick promised.
Agustín waved goodbye and started walking off in the direction of the shelter.
Patrick watched Agustín walking for a few seconds. Now that he was on his own he wasn't sure what to do. Should I go back to the apartment and talk to Kevin? he wondered. No, he decided. Not yet.
The truth of the matter was, he still needed time to think. He wasn't one hundred percent sure about anything other than the fact that he loved Kevin. But was love a good enough reason to open himself up to the possibility of being hurt that now loomed over him? He'd have to wonder every time Kevin went anywhere without him if he was hooking up with someone else. Could he live with that?
Patrick was musing on this as he walked and was shaken out of his reverie by the sound of a dog barking. He blinked and looked around. Next time him was a little pen with three little Jack Russell Terrier puppies in it. He stopped and knelt down.
"You're so cute," he gushed, sticking his finger through the gap in the fence so the puppy could sniff it. The puppy sniffed his finger, licked it, and then bit it. "Ow!"
"Sorry," the woman sitting in the chair next to the pen said with a warm laugh. "They can be real shitheads at that age."
"I never was much of a dog person," Kevin admitted. "I always liked cats better."
"I prefer dogs myself, but my girlfriend is crazy about cats. Our house is like menagerie."
"Oh, I can imagine."
"We have a few kittens looking for a home if you're interested…."
"Oh, no..I shouldn't…"
Patrick stopped. He had always wanted a cat, but his parents had never allowed him to have one. His mother was allergic and his father loathed cats. He'd thought about getting one when he graduated college and gotten his apartment, but the super had informed him that there would be an additional monthly fee for pets, and at the time he had been unable to afford it.
"I guess looking couldn't hurt, could it?" Patrick relented, looking as the woman ushered him into the pet shop before sitting back down in her lawn chair.
At the sound of the bell above the door, a second woman turned to him. "Hello!" she called jovially.
"Hi." Patrick waved lamely.
"Can I help you?"
"Oh, uh, I was talking to the woman outside and she said something about kittens."
"Would you like to see them?"
"Sure. I mean, I'm not sure I can take one, but I need to see something cute today."
"We get that a lot," the woman assured him with a warm smile. She led him into the back where a thin tortoise shell cat that couldn't have been more than eight months old, lay on a rug surrounded by five kittens. There was an agora tortoise shell, a black kitten with a white patch on his chest, and three golden haired kittens – one short haired, one medium haired, and one long haired.
"They're all so cute!" Patrick exclaimed, sitting down beside the mother cat, who cracked her eye open to examine him for a second before losing interest and closing her eye once again.
The kittens stirred and the medium length golden kitten stood up and sashayed over to Patrick's outstretched hand. The kitten sniffed his finger, and then rubbed his head against Patrick's hand, purring deep in his throat.
"Looks like you've got yourself a friend," the woman noted.
"It would appear so," Patrick agreed.
"You know, not to pressure you or anything, but I always tell people that you can't force a relationship with a cat. You have to let the cat chose you. Cats are very particular creatures."
"Just out of curiosity, how much do you want for the kittens?"
The woman smiled. "They're free to a good home. I love cats, but six is too many to take care of. The sad thing is, people won't pay for cats. They'll pay thousands of dollars for a dog, but not a cat. If I can't find home for these guys, I don't know what I'll do. I can't in good conscience send them to the pound to be euthanized if they don't get adopted."
"That's terrible!" Patrick cried, unconsciously hugging the orange kitten to him.
"So I am begging you, please, take a kitten," the woman said, laughing.
Patrick glanced down at the orange kitten as it nestled against his chest, the purrs growing louder by the second.
"Okay, I'll take him. I'm a sucker for a cute face."
"Aren't we all?" the woman clapped him on the shoulder. She turned to the kitten, "Bye bye, Alistair. Your new Daddy is going to give you fantastic life I can tell."
"His name is Alistair?" Patrick asked.
"That's what I've been calling him, but you can, of course, call him whatever you want. He's young enough that you can get away with it."
"Okay." Patrick nodded. "Oh, is he litter trained?"
"For several weeks now."
"Great! My boyfriend is going to kill for bringing him home. He'd kill me again if the cat messed on the floor."
"You might need this, though." The woman handed him a fresh litter box.
"Oh, yeah. Duh." Patrick laughed. "Litter, too. And food."
"Lucky for you we have that all here."
After paying for this purchases, Patrick zipped his coat up against the December chill, leaving enough room for his kitten to breathe. "All right, buddy, home?"
"Mrow," the kitten replied from inside the jacket.
"Okay," Patrick whispered. "Home."
He took a deep breath and let his feet start walking.
Eddie was taking one of the teens' cigarettes when Agustín arrived.
"I've told you guys that if you want to smoke, you need to go outside," Eddie said sternly to two girls who had shaved heads.
"Ugh, whatever," the Asian girl muttered and walked away. Her friend hurried after her.
"Fucking kids," Eddie groaned, taking a drag on the cigarette.
"I didn't know you smoked," Agustín noted.
Eddie turned to face him. "I quit years ago." Eddie followed Agustín back out the door to the sidewalk. He took another drag on the cigarette.
Agustín reached over and plucked the cigarette from Eddie's fingers and slid it between his lips, inhaling deeply.
"You shouldn't do that," Eddie said.
"HIV can't be passed through saliva," Agustín reminded him with a dopey grin.
"I know that, Captain Obvious. I meant that smoking is bad for you."
"You only live once." Agustín hit the cigarette again and handed it back to Eddie.
"So, how was breakfast?" Eddie asked, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke.
"Patrick is in a fine situation."
"The Grindr thing?"
"Worse. Kevin wants permission to hook up with other guys."
"What?"
"Yeah. Like, not sex, I guess, but handjobs."
"If you're going to cheat on your boyfriend, why would you just get a handjob?"
"Right?" Agustín shook his head. "I have a bad feeling about this."
"Patrick's a big boy," Eddie assured him. "He can handle himself."
"I know he can. It's just that he's so…naïve. Patrick's never really had a boyfriend before. He had one for about six months a few years ago, and then there was his fling with Richie, but not anything serious."
"He's stronger than you give him credit for, Agustín. I mean, he put up with your shit for how long?" Eddie's smile was affectionate.
"You're right, I just worry about him."
"Well, Patrick is certainly lucky to have a friend like you."
"I'm the lucky one. Patrick was there for me when no one else was."
"Just a little word of advice?" Eddie stomped out the cigarette. "You probably shouldn't talk about another guy so fondly in front of your boyfriend, even if it is a friend."
Agustín's smile vanished. "I-I'm sorry!" he said hurriedly.
Eddie laughed. "I'm just fucking with you, Agustín."
"Oh, good." Agustín deflated with relief. "I love Patrick, I just don't love Patrick."
"I know. I just have to give you shit from time to time."
"You are so needy," Agustín replied jocularly.
"Oh, yeah?" Eddie leaned in and pressed his lips against Agustín's. "I'm gonna need that tight ass of yours after the day I've had today."
"Oh?" Agustín reached down and put his hand on the front of Eddie's shorts. He felt the bulge concealed within the fabric.
"Am I, like, interrupting something?" one of the boys, Derrick asked, slamming the door behind him.
Agustín and Eddie pulled apart quickly.
"It's cool," Derrick assured them, lighting his cigarette.
"We should really get to work," Augustín reasoned.
"Shoot me now," Eddie grumbled under his breath.
They headed back into the shelter, their fingers intertwined.
Dom sighed with frustration as the delivery man walked into the small delivery space.
The industrial fryer that he bought a few weeks back – back when he had thought that Doris's money was still available – had finally arrived. The only problem was, he couldn't afford it. All of his savings had been poured into the necessities for his little chicken window.
"Are you Dom Basa….?" The delivery guy frowned at his clipboard, brow furrowed.
Dom was used to people fumbling over his last name, not that Basaluzzo was a particularly hard name to pronounce, but still.
"I'm Dom, yes." His mouth pinched tightly. What was he going to tell the guy? I'm sorry, sir, I can't pay for the fryer because the money I'd counted on having to pay for it is in probate court. Yeah, that'll go over well.
"I have a package here for you. I just need you to sign this for me and it says cash on delivery?"
The guy held out his clipboard, looking at Dom expectantly.
Dom licked his dry lips and sighed again. "I was hoping it would take a little bit longer to get here," he stalled.
"You paid for express shipping," the delivery man pointed out.
"Yeah, see….there's one small hitch."
The delivery driver crossed his arms over his chest.
"My friend's dad died a few weeks ago, and he left her a considerable amount of money. She was going to lend me that money to get my restaurant started, and then her fucking uncle decided to contest the will, so now the money is tied up in court for several months."
"I didn't ask for your life story, sir. I just need a signature and the money," the delivery guy replied dryly.
"That's the thing. I don't….have the money." Dom could feel heat rush to his face in embarrassment. "I spent everything I could of my own money on other things for the restaurant. I'm broke."
"So, basically, what you're telling me is that you can't pay for the fryer," the man summed up.
"That is exactly what I'm telling you."
The delivery man stood there in silence, tapping his foot on the floor. Dom noticed that Stephen was embroidered onto his uniform.
"Listen, Stephen, is there any way that we could, say, work out a payment plan, or…?"
Stephen cut him off, "Mr. Basa…Dom. That's not how this works. See, how it works is, I deliver your fryer, you give me a signature and the money, and we each go on our merry way. If you don't give me your signature and the money, then I can't give you the fryer, and then no one leaves happy. Do you see what I'm saying?"
"I…see." Please let a hole open up in the ground and just swallow me now, Dom begged silently.
"So?" Stephen pressured.
Dom threw up his hands in defeat. "I don't have the money."
Stephen exclaimed loudly. "So now I have to haul this heavy ass fryer back to the truck? Fucking great."
"I'll help," Dom offered. "It's the least I can do."
"That ain't no shit."
Together, they lifted the heavy box and scrambled back outside to the delivery truck. Once the box was secure in the back of the truck, Dom turned to Stephen. "I'm really sorry about this, man. If I had known the money wouldn't be around, I'd never have ordered it."
"Shit happens." Stephen chewed his lip. "Look, call the dispatcher. Maybe you guys can work something out."
"I will. Thanks."
"Oh, and….from what I can see you got a hell of a nice place in there."
"Thank you?"
Without another word, Stephen climbed into the truck, started it, and drove off in a cloud of black smoke.
Dom stared after the truck in awe. How had Stephen gone from first class asshole to complimenting him on his restaurant?
"What the fuck?" he muttered aloud, scratching his head in awe.
Patrick stood outside the apartment, staring up at the windows above. Was Kevin looking out one of those windows trying to see him? Did Kevin even care? Had Kevin already found a replacement for him?
"Stop," he said quietly to himself. "Just go up there."
Setting his chin determinedly, he marched up to the door and tugged. It didn't budge. Fuck! he thought. I still don't have my fob. Great! What now? Am I going to have to call Kevin to come let me in? Prove to him that I can't take care of myself?
"You poor thing, you never learn, do you?" a familiar voice said.
Patrick spun around to see Milo and Jake, the couple who had hosted the party the night before. Relief washed over him.
"Hey guys!" He waved it off. "I, uh, didn't get my fob yet."
"Luckily for you, we were passing by. Again," Milo smirked.
"Yeah. You guys are life savers."
"We'll going to have to start charging," Milo said as he opened the door for them.
"Milo!" Jake chastised.
"It was a joke," Milo replied dramatically.
"Don't mind him," Jake said to Patrick. "He's just a little hungover today."
"A little? Oh, sweetie." Milo shook his head. "I'm a lot hungover. That was quite a party last night."
The elevator doors opened and all three stepped in. Milo hit the button his and Jake's floor and for Patrick's.
"Thanks." Patrick half-smiled. He really didn't want to see Jake and Milo right now, not until he sorted out this mess with Kevin.
"Where did you and Kevin disappear to in such a rush last night?"
"We, uh, had plans. Didn't we tell you?"
"Oh, yeah, something about a friend's art show at the homeless shelter?" Everything Milo said dripped with condescension. Patrick bit his lip.
"Yeah, my friend Augustín."
"How quaint."
"Milo," Jake warned again.
"What about you guys? What did you do after we left?" How many more floors? Patrick wondered.
"We picked up another couple," Jake said before Milo could open his mouth.
"How….fun."
"It was," Milo interceded. "I love when a new guy pounds me from behind and I get to see Jake fucking some other guy. It's so hot! We lock eyes and it's….amazing."
"Sounds like it." Patrick felt his face flushing with embarrassment. Was the heat cranked up in the elevator? He pulled the collar of his shirt back and fanned his neck.
"Do you and Kevin ever mix it up?" Milo asked, smiling lasciviously. "He is one sexy hunk, let me tell you."
"Um, no. No, we don't. I don't believe in that. I think if you're in a relationship with someone, no one else should be involved."
"Oh, Patrick, honey. Wake up! The only way you're going to get a guy like Kevin to stay is to let him have his fun. Now, you can either take part, and know exactly what he's up to, or you can bury your head in the sand and pretend he's at the gym, when really he's deepthroating a stranger."
Patrick gulped. Milo did have a point. But still…could he do that? Could he watch Kevin have sex with someone else? Could he have sex with someone else? With Kevin in the same bed? In the same room?
"Milo, enough. You're scaring him," Jake cautioned with a reassuring smile.
"I'm just trying to help."
"He doesn't need your help."
"Is it hot in here?" Patrick croaked. He unzipped his jacket and the kitten was exposed.
"What is that?" Milo exclaimed.
"A kitten…." Who didn't know what a kitten was?
"A pussy? Honey, no. No pussy allowed."
Thankfully, the elevators opened and Milo was led out by an aggressive Jake. Jake peeked his head back into the elevator. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "He's a bit much at times."
"Mmmhmmm." Patrick replied. What else could he say. No shit!
The elevator crawled up a few more floors until it reached his. As he stepped out of the elevator, he felt his heart start to beat faster. "Calm down," he whispered. "It's just Kevin. Just Kevin."
He zipped his jacket back up as he walked down the hallway to the apartment. He stopped outside and wrung his hands. This is it. Do or die time.
Patrick was just about to slip his key into the lock when the door was pulled open angrily.
"Where the hell have you been?" Kevin demanded. His face was beet red with anger, his eyes bulging out of his head.
Oh, shit, Patrick thought. "I just needed some space," he confessed, stepping past Kevin into the apartment. He set the bags down beside the door.
"You needed some space? So you disappear first thing in the bloody morning without a word, and then you don't answer my multiple calls?"
"I was busy," Patrick breezed.
"Busy." Kevin laughed bitterly. "Really mature, Patrick. I've been sat here all day, going out of my fucking mind worrying that you were dead or something!" Kevin's voice cracked.
Patrick sighed. He should have told Kevin he was going on, or at least texted him quickly and told him that he'd be back later. "I'm sorry," he said simply.
"You're sorry?" Kevin shook his head. "It's like you don't even want this to work, Patrick!"
"I do!" Patrick insisted, all of the anger flooding out of him.
"Well, you have a really twisted way of showing it."
The kitten, tired of being snuggled inside Patrick's jacket, clawed its way out and scampered off.
"What the fuck was that?"
"That's Milo," Patrick replied, feeling like a child who'd gotten caught by his parents doing something that he knew he shouldn't.
"Milo?"
"He's a kitten I got at the pet shop. He was free….."
"See, Patrick, this is exactly what I'm talking about! If you want to be in this relationship, you need to discuss these things with me. You can't just turn up here after being gone all day without a word, and bring a fucking cat with you."
"So, you're saying I need your permission?" Patrick felt heat in his cheeks and knew it wasn't embarrassment. It was anger, and it was rising again.
"I'm saying you should've discussed it with me, okay?"
"Let me get this clear. I need 'permission' to get a cat for myself, but it's okay for you to fuck other people? That is so fucked up, Kevin!"
"Patrick!" Kevin slammed his hand down on the counter with a loud smack! Patrick jumped. He'd never seen Kevin lose his temper before. He glanced up at Kevin, his heart racing even faster now.
Kevin saw the surprise in Patrick's face and wiped a hand across his mouth. He started to pace. "Look, Patrick, I'm sorry about last night, truly I am. I did not mean to imply in any way that you aren't enough for me. You are. I…" he paused and took a breath. "I love you more than I have ever loved anyone, okay? Do you understand that?"
Patrick felt shame and guilt grab a hold of him tightly. "I love you, too," he said, his voice soft.
"Then why are we doing this? Huh? Why are we fighting? Life's too short, Patrick. I want to enjoy every bloody second I have with you."
Patrick stepped forward and put his hands on Kevin's arms. "I do, too."
"Then can we please, for the love of God, just put this mess behind us and move forward? Please?"
Patrick swallowed past a dry throat. He really wanted to say yes, he did, but his brain was telling him that there would always be that nagging in the back of his mind, always that suspicion. It just wasn't something that he could live with.
"Patrick?" Kevin pressed, raising his eyebrows quizzically.
"I can't." Patrick's voice didn't even sound like his own, it sounded dead, alien.
He watched with a breaking heart as Kevin's face fell.
"Is it really that big of a deal?" Kevin asked.
'it is," Patrick replied. "To me, at least."
"So…what happens now?"
Patrick sighed. He had been wondering that himself. It was a lot more complicated than just breaking up. He and Kevin worked together. They lived in the same city.
"I don't know," Patrick confessed, throwing his hands up in defeat.
Dom sat on the floor in the middle of the tiny restaurant space. He was surrounded by bills and invoices, scattered about the wooden floor. Rubbing his temples soothingly, he sighed.
He'd gone over everything – two , three, four times – and still he couldn't figur11e out a way to make the numbers work. At least, not without putting himself into even more debt than he already had. At his age, burying yourself under a literal mountain of debt was not only unwise, it was also inconceivable. Who knew if he'd ever be able to free himself from it?
It was times like these that Dom missed Lynn. Sure, they had had their bad moments, but Lynn had always been willing to help in any way he could. The test run they'd done had proved very beneficial; Dom had gotten a taste of what running the restaurant would really be like, and he got to hear feedback from the patrons. A lot of hard work had gone into that one-night only event.
He was so busy reminiscing that he didn't even hear Doris come in until her sneakered feet stopped a few steps away from him.
"Rough day?" she asked, squatting down so that they were at eye level with each other.
"I've had better," Dom confessed, setting the invoices in his hand down on a blank spot on the floor.
"Anything I can do?"
"Come up with that money your dad promised you?"
"I wish." Doris scoffed.
"Sorry, I shouldn't have said that." Dom shook his head to clear it.
"Look, Dom, I know we agreed that for the sake of our friendship that we shouldn't throw money into the mix, but I feel….real shitty about everything."
"Don't," Dom begged, taking one of Doris's hands in his own. "It's not your fault."
"No, I know that. It's Uncle Bunny's."
"I always hated that jackass," Dom confided.
"You're not the only one." Doris laughed. "I used to hate his guts."
Dom watched Doris stare off into space for a few seconds. He hated that she felt guilty about all this. It was his dream, not hers. It wasn't her responsibility to swoop in like the Fairy Godmother and make everything work for him. He was grown man and it was his duty to solve his problems.
"It'll all work out," he said with more confidence than he actually felt.
"Yeah," Doris agreed.
"If everything came to us easy how would we appreciate it?"
"Exactly." Doris pursed her lips.
"And if for some reason it doesn't pan out, well, everything happens for a reason."
"That's a crock of shit."
"You think so?"
"You know I don't believe in fate."
Dom smiled up at his oldest friend. Doris was his family. He would be lost without her.
"Hey, what do you say we go get a beer or something?"
"I could murder a cold one," Doris groaned.
"Rough day for you, too?" Dom asked.
"Just a long day at work." Doris reached back and massaged her tense neck muscles.
"Well, in that case, it's my treat."
"Dom, you don't have a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of," she protested.
Dom laughed. "I'm in debt, Doris, $20 will hardly make a difference."
"How about we take turns buying rounds?"
"Okay."
Dom stood up, helped Doris to her feet, and then switched the lights off.
Agustín sat on the couch in his apartment. The TV as turned onto a rerun of The Golden Girls. He laughed along as the Rose went on one of her pointless stories that made Dorothy, Blanche, and Sophia wish they could choke her.
Eddie had been supposed to come over, but he had been too tired after work and decided to go home and get a good night's sleep, leaving Agustín all on his own.
The quietness of the apartment without Patrick was going to take some getting used to. In all the years he'd stayed there, he'd rarely had the apartment to himself. Patrick wasn't one for going out of town often, and he also wasn't one to go out clubbing or anything, so when he wasn't at work, he was usually at the apartment.
Agustín flicked through his phone contacts idly. He had burned a lot of bridges in his life, and as proof, he only had twelve contacts in his phone. As he scrolled through he came across Frank's number. Frank. Oh, he had really screwed that one up.
They had seen each other a few weeks back and it had been tremendously awkward for both parties. I just wish I could make it right with him, Agustín thought.
As if of their own volition, his fingers selected Frank's number and hit the Call button. He listened as the call connected and started to ring.
The first ring jolted him back to reality and he quickly ended the call. Bad idea, he chided himself. Very, very bad.
Suddenly, his phone started ringing. Agustín tore his eyes away from the television and glanced at his phone. FRANK was displayed on the screen. Fuck! What do I do!?
He decided not to answer the call and to instead let it go to voicemail. After about ten rings, it finally did. Frank won't leave a message, he reckoned, but then his phone chirped and he saw that he had a voicemail.
The show went onto commercial and Agustín called his voicemail and waited for the new message to play.
"Agustín, it's me," Frank's voice said huskily. "I'm outside your apartment. Pick up. I can see your light's on."
Shit! Agustín hung up. What should he do? Should he call Frank back? Or ignore the call? Truthfully, he had no hard feelings toward Frank for what had happened between them. He'd fucked up – badly – and he knew it. Seeing Frank a few weeks back had been nice, it had stirred up some feelings, sure, but he was with Eddie now, and he would never do anything to jeopardize that. Maybe Frank was ready to be friends.
Exhaling sharply, Agustín called Frank back and waited for him to pick up.
"Took you long enough," Frank purred into the line.
"Uh, yeah, sorry. I was watching Golden Girls."
"You hate to be interrupted during that," Frank said.
"Certainly not," Agustín agreed. "So…what's up?"
"I was just in the neighborhood. I happened to pass by and see your light on. Thought I'd say hi."
"That's sweet of you."
"What are you up to?"
"Just Golden Girls." Agustín laughed.
"Care if I stop by?"
Agustín swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. Why would Frank want to come up? After all the hurtful – but true – things he'd say to him, why was he suddenly all gung-ho about being friends or whatever?
"Agustín?" Frank pressed.
"Uh, it's kinda late, Frank."
"Late? It's Nine o'clock."
"I've had a long day. Had to get up early."
"I won't stay long."
"Fine." Agustín sighed
"I'll be right up."
Agustín quickly cleared up his ice cream bowl and spoon that had been sitting on the couch next to him. He finished just as there was a knock at the door. Smoothing down his hair, he opened it.
"Hey." Frank smiled.
"Hey. Come on in."
Agustín held the door open as Frank walked past him. He couldn't help noticing that he smelled good. Very good.
"No Patrick?" Frank asked.
"He doesn't live here anymore." Agustín shut the door. "He moved in with his boyfriend."
"Patrick has a boyfriend?" Frank asked, incredulous. "I never thought I'd live to see the day."
"Be nice," Agustín said. "Kevin is really good to him."
"I bet." Frank stepped closer to Agustín. "I have to admit, Agustín I was shocked when you told me that you had your life together. I didn't want to believe it."
"I know I hurt you, Frank…"
"It's in the past." Frank waved it off.
"I'm glad that you're willing to forgive me. It really tore me up that I had hurt you."
"I was really torn up."
"I know."
Frank leaned in so close that Agustín could smell barbeque sauce on his breath. "I've missed you."
"I…missed you, too."
Agustín's heart started to race. Frank was making him uncomfortable. He could feel sweat breaking out on his palms and forehead.
"Come sit down." Frank sat down on the couch and patted the cushion next to his. Agustín sat down next to him, wiping his sweaty palms on the knees of his jeans.
"So, why did you call me?' Frank asked.
Agustín's first instinct was to lie and say that the call had been a mistake. The old Agustín surely would have gone that route, the man he was slowly turning into had integrity.
"I called because I wanted to apologize to you for everything that happened."
Lightning fast, Frank grabbed the back of Agustín's head and pulled him into a kiss. Instinctively, Agustín kissed Frank back, reveling in his soft, plump lips. Frank's hand went down to the front of Agustín's jeans. His touch sent a spark of electricity through his penis.
Eddie! his mind screamed, and he pulled away. "No," he whispered.
"No?" Frank chewed his bottom lip, his eyes heavy with lust.
"I'm with Eddie," Agustín pointed out.
"That pig?" Frank's voice was dripping with disdain. "You downgraded."
"He's a great guy."
"You really have lost your mind, haven't you, Agustín?" Frank asked.
"What? Why? Eddie is a great guy. He's helped me get my shit together."
Frank scoffed. "You know, I prayed, I tried everything I could to get you to grow up and get your shit together, but nothing was good enough."
"It wasn't you," Agustín told him. "I just…wasn't ready."
Frank nodded. "I hate myself for this….but….I miss you." Frank's voice cracked with emotion.
Agustín's heart broke a little. He had been torn up when he and Frank had broken up, but he'd moved on and found a man who was exactly what he needed in a partner.
"I'm sorry," he said lamely.
"Me, too," Agustín felt stupid. He really couldn't come up with anything better to say than that? After everything they'd been though.
"I guess seeing you again just brought all those old feelings back to the surface," Frank concluded.
"For me, too," Agustín agreed. "But I'm with Eddie now. I love him. I love you, but not in the same way."
Frank nodded, staring down at his shoes.
"Hey." Agustín gently lifted Frank's chin. He could see the tears streaming down Frank's brown cheeks.
"I'm happy for you, Agustín, really." He sniffled.
"I couldn't have become the man I am today without you."
That made Frank blink. "You don't mean that."
"I do," Agustín promised. "If it wasn't for the love and security and nurturing that you gave me, I'd still be a train wreck."
Frank smiled. "Thank you, Agustín. It's nice to hear."
"Thank you for putting up with my shit for all those years. I honestly don't know how you did it. I couldn't have. I'd have kicked my ass to the curb a long time before you did."
"You weren't that bad…"
"I was." Agustín laughed.
Frank crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, I should get going," he said.
"You don't have to, I mean, you can stay and watch some Golden Girls with me."
"After I put my tongue in your mouth?"
"You've put your tongue in worse places than that."
"True."
"Just…keep your hands to yourself, okay?"
"Deal." Frank laughed.
The show came back on and Agustín and Frank sat on the couch and watched, enraptured.
Patrick grabbed his toothbrush out of the holder and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He looked ragged, tired. His skin was puffy and blotchy and within the murky depths of his eyes he could see nothing but sadness, heartbreak.
Setting his chin, he walked out of the bathroom, flicking the light off as he went.
Out in the main room, he squeezed his toothbrush into his jeans pocket. He looked around him at the mass of boxes surrounding him. He hadn't even managed to live with Kevin for more than a day. He'd had everything he'd wanted – or at least thought he'd wanted – and now it was over.
Kevin padded silently over on his socked feet. His jaw was tight, as if clenched. His eyes burned with anger and a mix of sadness.
"So, you're really going, then." It wasn't a question.
"I have to," Patrick answered slowly.
Kevin nodded and looked away, hanging his head.
At that moment, Patrick wanted to reach out and comfort him, to make everything okay, but how could he, when he was hurting himself? It would be so easy to just give in and stay, but in doing so, he would be compromising his self-respect and putting himself in a position to really get his heart broken.
"This isn't what I want," he started, unsure how to continue.
"Then why are you doing it?" Kevin's voice wavered with anger.
"I love you, but I love me more."
"You love yourself, all right," Kevin muttered.
Patrick didn't have the energy to argue with Kevin, he really didn't. So, instead, he just nodded. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the keys for the apartment. He looked at them longingly for a second before setting them on the table.
"There's my keys." He knelt and picked up the golden kitten, zipping him up inside his coat against the chill. The bag with the cat necessities was where he had set it when he'd gotten back. Gingerly, he picked it up.
"Cool."
"I'll, uh, notify the movers and they should come get my stuff tomorrow or the next day."
"Yup." Kevin's tone was clipped.
"Well….I should probably…get going…."
"Probably."
Patrick looked into Kevin's blue eyes and in that moment he wanted nothing more than to cross the space between them and melt into Kevin's lips. His gut stopped him.
"I've never really done this before, so I don't know…."
"It's fine." Kevin sniffed.
"I'm sorry I wasted your time," Patrick said lamely.
Kevin laughed bitterly. "Just go, Patrick. Don't make this any bloody harder than it has to be."
Patrick's throat constricted and his eyes welled. Silently, he turned on his heel and crossed to the door. With shaking hands, he turned the knob and opened it. His heart started racing. Just breathe, he ordered himself. Taking a deep breath, he stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind him.
Numbly, he made his way to elevator. He stood waiting for a minute before he realized that he couldn't summon it without the fob – which he'd never gotten. He made his way down the hallway to the stairs and started his descent.
As if in a haze, he walked through the lobby and out the front door.
As soon as he was outside the building the tears came. They stung his eyes and streamed down his cheeks. His breath came in gasps and his shoulders rose and fell with each sob. It felt as though someone had a hold of his heart and was slowly cracking it in half. Wasn't he doing it to himself?
Patrick went on autopilot and before he knew it, he was standing at the door to h is apartment with Agustín. He got his keys out and unlocked the door. He opened it to a dark room save for the glow from the television, which illuminated Agustín's form on the couch.
Agustín saw him and shot immediately to his feet. "Paddy? What happened? Are you okay?"
"I felt him," he managed before the tears came again and his body was racked with sobs.
"Oh, honey."
"I just couldn't..."
"I understand."
Patrick felt Agustín's arms around him and that made him cry even harder. Agustín had never comforted him. Ever. He had always been the supportive one. He had really managed to fuck this one up big time.
The kitten jumped out of Patrick's jacket and stared up at him quizzically, almost as if he could tell that Patrick was in a bad way. Mewling softly, the kitten rubbed up against Patrick's leg, purring.
Patrick's legs gave out, and he dropped the ground. Agustín crouched down beside him and held him, not saying a word. There was nothing to say. Nothing was going to take this pain away. Not yet, anyway. It would take time.