Of Love and Lesbians
Part One
There was a sheet of paper taped with evident precision to the wall above Brian's desk.
Lindsay examined the paper with interest, and upon inspection she realised that it was a timetable. It was a concise and particular schedule of an entire calendar which detailed weeks, weekends and vacations from January until December, but appeared to be unrelated to an actual calendar. The basic outline of the schedule had been printed with expensive ink, but Brian had written some times and dates in neat letters within the lines. Lindsay studied the dates and attempted to extract a structure from them which would explain their importance to her, but except for several basic patterns she had found, which she had deemed ineffectual a moment after, the dates appeared to be random. However, Lindsay knew that Brian was not an impulsive person, unless some recreational substances were involved. Brian did tend to address all matters with meticulous consideration. He definitely never placed any item in his home unless it was relevant to him.
Brian came towards her with two bottles of beer, one of which she accepted with a thankful smile. She sipped the alcoholic liquid from the bottle, and basked in the warm sensation that spread in her stomach after she had swallowed. After a moment, Lindsay motioned towards the paper with her hand to attract his attention towards it. "Bri, what's the schedule for?" she asked in a casual manner.
Brian's stare settled upon the paper, and for a moment a smile appeared upon his face, and then his cheeks became discoloured with apparent embarrassment and he hurried to form the appropriate clever answer. Lindsay identified the discomfort upon Brian's features, and remembered she had experienced a similar emotion when Brian had found her with a bouquet of flowers from an admirer, and when Melanie had found her with a leather briefcase she had intended for Melanie's birthday present after she had qualified as a lawyer. Lindsay realised that that specific embarrassment came when you were found to be as simple and romantic as everyone else, and the realisation caused her to beam with satisfaction. Despite his incessant declarations, Brian was no better than the rest of them.
"It's just a schedule . . ." Brian said after considerable hesitation. His mouth laboured to find a more impressive response, but it was futile. After several minutes, Brian surrendered and provided her with an honest answer: "Justin and I have created a schedule. It dictates when we visit each-other, and sometimes we insert additional dates when one of us has time from work or whatever . . ." Brian rubbed at his neck with his hand, and kept his stare upon the floor. Lindsay knew that he found the situation unpleasant, but she found it most pleasurable. "It's just a schedule . . ."
Lindsay nodded her head in acceptance. "That's wonderful," she commented with a broad smile of happiness. "I think that's really wonderful."
Brian addressed her with a furious stare, and she responded with a chuckle of amusement. Lindsay returned her attention to the paper, and upon a second inspection she realised the exactitude of the timetable. It indicated that Brian and Justin visited each-other at their respective locations on alternate weekends, with every third weekend dependent upon their professional situations, and every three months they spent an entire week with each-other. In the summer and winter time they had secluded three weeks for each-other. There were also infrequent dates where Brian had noted in with his smart penmanship: Conference in New York. Exhibition in Philadelphia. Public Holiday. The more that Lindsay read of their schedule, the more infatuated she became with the concept of their relationship. It was beautiful and sorrowful, and simultaneously adorable. She knew that she could sell the concept to a film studio somewhere for ten thousand dollars.
"It may appear 'wonderful' to your lesbian brain, but it's really a nuisance. I have to obey the schedule unless I have a valid reason and a letter from my doctor as evidence. Justin's a Nazi with the schedule," Brian claimed, but Lindsay knew that he was a liar. As Michael had said, Brian always did what he wanted to do and no-one could convince him otherwise.
Lindsay offered him a tender smile. "I promise that I won't tell anyone," she assured him.
"Tell anyone what?" Brian asked. He stared at her with a stern expression as he lifted his bottle of beer to his mouth, and swallowed several mouthfuls.
"I won't tell anyone that you and Justin are more romantic than any of us," Lindsay teased him.
"Don't be ridiculous. It's not romantic," Brian defended him with conviction. "It's . . . It's practical. We have to maintain our relationship somehow." He realised his mistake a moment after he spoke, and before he could correct himself Lindsay interjected.
"Okay, then. I suppose that whatever maintains your relationship with Justin is not romantic at all, but in-fact very practical," Lindsay continued to tease him, mercilessly. She drank some of her beer, and then directed a mischievous smile at Brian. "You're so pathetic."
Brian frowned at her with disapproval. "Yeah, well . . ." he admitted with a slow exhalation of defeat. "At least, I'm not a lesbian."