Standard disclaimers, blah, blah, blah. Visible scaring has been kept to a minimum but emotional scaring is going to be significant, for a while.

Thanks to Jaime, Kate Manoso and Melody – you ladies have continued to give me hope and inspiration. Some day I'll have the story telling skills you all do, I can only hope.

Luisa, my Miami Babe, thanks for making this much more plausible, credible, believable, and any other blah-blah-blah-able, too. It wouldn't have been nearly as good without you and your help.

"Steph, he's straight."

Oh God.

Stephanie's Gamble

By Alfonsina

Chapter 15 ♣ The Confession

'Straight. Canelo is straight? That can't be right. I'd asked him over the weekend if he was gay and he said "yes, very, very gay." I had heard him say it and so had Ranger. He had told me outright that he was gay. I'd even asked if he liked men and he said that he did. What the hell is this straight business about?' I thought. I mean he had mumbled some other stuff afterwards, but the important thing was the 'gay' word, right?

Lester, who was normally a joker and ready with a smile wasn't smiling now. "He and I drove back to Trenton together today. It seemed all he wanted to do was to talk about you. He's confused about what's going on and thinks you might have a miscommunication. I have no doubt that there's a miscommunication and in the extreme," he told me.

Miscommunication, no shit.

My head reeled and my knees buckled before I collapsed into the sofa. I shoved my head between my knees and tried to breathe but it wasn't working. I was making a valiant effort. It was hard to breathe when there was no air in the room; it had all been sucked out when Lester said those two little words, 'he's straight'.

There was no way I could get my head around this. It just wasn't possible. I had been confused before, but this was beyond the pail. Oh dear God.

Ranger used to joke about me 'playing with fire'. If he only knew how close to the fire I'd been playing or how much heat I'd felt. If I'd had even the smallest clue about Hector, I would have slept on the floor or sofa or bathtub or something. I definitely wouldn't have slept in the same bed with him.

I decided to go to my best and closest friend, Denial, for support. No doubt I'd spent a lot of time with Denial this past weekend, but now I needed the support of Denial desperately.

"You know, Les, a lot of gay men have women friends. And they do things together, go places, travel the world together even. I have a friend whose best 'girlfriend' is named Alan. They do everything except go to the bathroom together; they even sleep in the same bed sometimes and nothing happens," I said. 'Please God, let him be looking to be my newest girlfriend,' I was thinking.

"Beautiful, I wish I could help you with this part, but I just can't. He is interested in you and it isn't to be your buddy. He's been planning on asking out for a while now," he shrugged. "I guess we've all been 'confused' about him being 'gay'. Before you ask, no he isn't and has never been bi-sexual, I checked. Now I really hate to tell you the next part."

Oh God, what else could there possibly be?

"He's waiting in the parking lot to talk to you. Do you think you can do that?"

No. I would never be able to have this talk with him. I would never again be able to look him in the eyes. I had just sort of planned to pretend that what did or didn't happen between us this weekend didn't happen at all. I was going to wipe the whole weekend out of my memory banks. Why couldn't I just melt into the floor? Better yet, was now a good time to move some place secluded like a glacier somewhere?

"Sure. Now's good," I said. I may as well rip the Band-Aid off now. It won't matter if it's done now or later, it'll hurt all the same and someone would probably wind up bloody if when it was pulled off.

Lester got his cell phone out of his pocket and made a quick call. In less than two minutes, Hector was knocking on my door; that was when Denial was ripped away from me and I had to check for blood.

I opened the door and did the regular kiss on the cheek thing. I made sure his lips didn't go beyond the cheek. I led him to the sofa so we could both sit down.

"Lester, you can probably go now," I said not trying to be subtle. I didn't think I could do this with an audience. God knows I didn't want a witness of any kind.

"No, I think that initially you might want me here so you get the whole story and there are no more misunderstandings," Lester said. At least he had the good grace about him to look uncomfortable about it.

The two men looked at each other. They did the ESP thing. Hector nodded and then Lester started to talk.

"It's like this. You remember that he was in college before he wound up in the US, right?" I nodded so he continued. "Canelo's first language is Spanish and he's well read, so his vocabulary in Spanish is very extensive. I mean I can communicate in it really well but wind up speaking Spanglish with family and Ranger. Ranger speaks Spanish better than I do, but we've never lived in the culture full time, we've just kinda played tourist – ya know? And you would never mistake our grammar or pronunciation as that used by someone of his background and education."

Ok. What the hell did that have to do with the price of tea in China anyway?

"When Canelo decided to get his shit together and work for Rangeman, he spoke very little English and looked words up all of the time. You know how there are lots of ways in English to say 'happy'?" Lester asked.

Both men were wearing pained expressions. I could almost hear the next words before they were spoken. I did the bobble head doll thing again, so Lester continued, "He was looking for a words that meant, content, light hearted, overjoyed, you know really happy. He didn't find what he wanted in the Spanish/English dictionary, so he got an English thesaurus out and looked up happy. He liked the looks of 'gay', it was short and to the point and easy to say. He knew that it couldmean homosexual, but he didn't think it was onlyused now with that meaning. He thought it was still used, at least some, for the old meanings, too, so he didn't think about it anymore."

"Besides, in Spanish there is more than one verb for 'to be'. Any way, one of them use for stuff that won't change like 'are you Hungarian' and the other is used for stuff that changes like 'where are you?' and 'how are you?' Anyway, he was thinking you were using the 'to be/are' that's for stuff that changes. So when you asked 'are you gay' question he really thought you were asking if he was happy or 'gay' at that moment. Because whenever he is with you he is definitely thinking heterosexual thoughts."

"Oh God," I said. I was still breathing and I didn't have to have my head between my knees to do it. OK, we'll get past this.

"Anyway, he has used 'gay' instead of 'happy' for a couple of years now because the questions always seemed to be about his state of mind, not about his preferences, you know?. Besides, after he answered that he was gay, people quit asking him questions, he was good with that. For the record, he definitely prefers females," Lester said. Hector just looked down and was studying my floor.

"You both need to work on conversational English and not just the academic stuff he'll need in school," Lester said.

No kidding.

"But when I asked him about it this weekend he'd said 'yes, very, very gay' and then he mumbled some stuff," I said, hoping to stay a little longer in Denial.

Lester talked to Hector to see what he'd actually mumbled, turned out it was stuff like 'happy, content, pleased'. It also turned out that at one point he said 'te lo juro' which meant he swore that he was all of those things.

Oh God. He was happy and all that being in bed with me, and thought he was going to get his itch scratched. It was my turn to turn red and get embarrassed.

"What about you guys at the office. How could you not know that he was actually straight?" I asked.

Lester said, "When you see gang tattoos and a tear drop, you don't ask a lot of personal and relationship type questions; it's not like any of us are Dr. Phil or something. He said it once to Ranger when he was first hired and it was never brought up again. I never thought to ask him about it; it wasn't like any of the guys or I wanted to date him. We let his private stuff stay private."

I could see that.

"But what about his family, his friends, old girlfriends? What do they think is going on?"

"In Mexico, he played the field and he dated in groups, but never anyone seriously. When he got here, he didn't date a lot because of the language barrier and the gang thing. Until recently, he hadn't been looking for a committed relationship and that's what he's wanting now. He'd been waiting until he could afford the family that went along with it.

"Besides, you've met his aunt and his brother. They both thought you'd be a good candidate for a relationship with him. They each told him so on the day you met them. Beautiful, you were being pre-screened and didn't even know it," Lester said.

That explained why we had lunch with his aunt and why he did the side projects with me at the bakery. It explained why his aunt made the comments about commitment. It also explained why his brother seemed so pleased to meet me.

Jesus.

"But you know it doesn't matter what they think or what anybody else thinks. What matters now is what you think. What matters is what do you want to do now?" Lester asked.

He talked to Hector for a minute in Spanish and said, "I need to get back to the office. Beautiful, do you think the two of you can handle it from here?"

My head was down and I just nodded. I did more nodding today than I could remember. I needed to watch that, something might come loose.

I stood up to walk Lester out and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, "Thanks for letting me know. See you at work," I said.

Before he walked out the door, Lester whispered into my ear, "Steph, really he didn't know you didn't know. He thought that you wanted him. He thought you had volunteered to be in the same room and tent with him because you wanted to do that with him. He wasn't looking for an easy lay. He never thought of you that way. He couldn't believe he could possibly have been that lucky."

"You aren't kidding are you?" I whispered back.

"I only wish I was. Don't hurt him too badly. It really was an innocent mistake on his part. He thought he'd gotten all the signals right which is why he jumped the gun.

"Against my own nature and as much as it hurts me, I'm not going to say anything about this to anybody. This is one time when I think enough damage has been done, I won't add to it by making it a joke or spreading any stories," Lester said. With that, he was out the door.

I closed the door, locked it and walked across the room. Hector took my hands and sat me down next to him on the sofa. He put his arm around my shoulder and moved his finger up and down my upper arm.

"Do you have any questions for me?" he asked.

"Do I really have to think about that now?" I responded. I had a lot to absorb and didn't want to clutter my mind with anything new.

"No, you don't have to think about it now. You are important to me. Can we stay friends? I like you, a lot," he said quietly.

"I'd like that," I said with a small sigh.

"I feel stupid and ashamed," he whispered.

I could understand that. People have misconceptions about me all of the time, but usually it is because it is of what they think and not directly related to something I've said.

"Can I hold you for a while, please," he whispered.

"Please," was all I could say.

We stayed in the living room on the couch but he straddled it in such a way that I was between his legs and my back was to his front. He took my hands and played with my fingers.

We didn't say anything for the longest time, just sat there enjoying this moment for what it was. Nothing more. Nothing less.

I don't know how much time passed when he broke the silence.

For some reason, it just felt right to keep our voices low. I'd heard it said that sometimes when you really want to be heard, don't yell whisper. Seemed right, at least this time.

"I'm sorry," he said.

OK.

"I thought you liked me the way I like you," he went on.

I just sat there and said nothing.

"You had gotten so comfortable around me. You didn't object to my kissing you on the cheek, the couple of kisses on the lips, the times when I've taken your hand or put my arms around you," he said.

"Lester told me that a lot of that was a cultural thing. I didn't think a whole lot about it. Besides, it felt nice," I said.

"But a lot of 'American' women, don't accept it and resist. I thought you would be like them, but you weren't like them."

"I guess I'm not like them. I'm me," I said.

"The night you did the thing for me with my hands," he started.

"Manicure," I said.

"Anyway, you answered the door in your pajamas. I wasn't sure why you would do that if you weren't interested in me."

"I didn't think about it. I'd been told you were gay, so in my mind what I was wearing wouldn't have mattered. I wasn't trying to lead you on."

"Then you got Ranger to leave and you said you weren't dating him," he said.

"Ranger shows up unannounced all of the time. I get Ranger to leave when I have friends over. I did offer to let him stay," I said. "So we are both clear, I am not dating him and I'm not his girlfriend. He doesn't do relationships. Ranger does casual sex. I don't do casual sex."

He continued, "Yesterday, you left clothes on the bed while you were in the tub."

"Yeah. So? I do that all the time," I replied.

"I couldn't help but notice all of the lacy things you had on the bed," he went on. "I thought you had planned to wear those for me."

Oh. Oh boy. The little light of realization went on; he thought I was trying to show him how interested in him I was. Jeez.

"I almost always wear lacy underwear. I wear them for me. In case you didn't notice, I work with a bunch of guys and I like to feel like a girl," I said. "Besides, I never thought you would come in the room while I was in the tub or I would have taken them into the bathroom with me. I didn't lay them out to tease or entice you or even to send any kind of a message, I promise."

We sat for a while and let it all digest. I don't know how long we sat, but the quiet was nice.

Hector finally broke the silence.

"Do you want a boyfriend?" he asked quietly.

"I don't know. Things are complicated," I said.

"Is Ranger complicated? Am I complicated?" he asked.

"When I thought you were gay, I didn't think you were complicated. This weekend, you got complicated in a hurry. I thought you wanted someone to hold and kiss and I was there. I was convenient. I thought that you were experimenting or something," I said. "That part was very complicated and confusing."

I turned so I could look him in the eye. I said, "Do you know why I initially wanted to be in the tent with you? It was because I thought you were safe. I don't understand young boys, so last night I didn't want to be in a room with a bunch of them and I was still thinking you were pretty much safe, well mostly safe. Besides I don't date men who date men." I was smiling and so was he.

"I don't date men either," he said, "and around you I'm not safe."

No kidding he wasn't safe. He wasn't safe in all of the best possible ways, according to my hormones.

I turned so I couldn't see him again. I wanted to talk to him some more, but looking him in the eye might prove to be embarrassing or distracting. I decided to make a minor confession of my own.

I breathed deeply and let it out slowly. In an even quieter voice I said, "It felt so right when you held me and when you kissed me. I thought I'd like to do that every night for a very long time."

"You feel right in my arms, in my bed, under me," he said. His voice had gotten husky.

I didn't want to turn around to look at him, I was afraid I might kiss him again and further complicate things. God I hate that word 'complicate' it's almost as bad as the phrase 'we need to talk'.

"Just because it feels right doesn't make it right," I said with a sigh. If everything that felt right to me was right, I'd have been a certified nympho years ago and my mother would be on the board of directors for Spray Starch and Rowenta, the maker of great German irons.

"I know," he said.

"Besides, you work for Ranger and so do I. We'd both have to leave our jobs and I like mine. Right now I don't get covered in garbage and I have regular hours, I can have a life," I said wishing he might, maybe, be able to be a part of it.

"I have a cousin where I can do the same kind of work. He will pay me to go to school, too."

"But I thought you liked Rangeman."

"I like the job. A job is just a job. It is to help you pay for what you want in life." Smart boy.

"You are six years younger than me," I said.

"Age is a number," he replied. "Numbers are only important in math."

"I don't know your culture and I don't speak Spanish," I said stating the obvious.

"You can learn like I am learning."

"I don't cook."

"I cook. You have to be willing to eat Mexican though," he said with a cheesy laugh.

"Smartass," I said with a smile.

We lapsed back into silence.

It felt like hours before I said to him, "Are you really ready for a serious girlfriend?"

"Yes."

"How do you know? I mean this could just be infatuation. This could be boredom. This could be your body talking and overriding your mind," I said.

"I wanted to get to know you for a long time."

Huh?

"Why? I mostly sit in front of a computer all day. Nothing special about me."

"You're wrong. People are happy to be around you. When it is a bad day, they talk to you," he said. "I like to talk to you. I am happiest when I am with you. I've enjoyed spending time with you every day, even when it was for a little bit."

I had become Rangeman's answer to Dear Abby. Most of the guys didn't talk well with girls and I tried to provide insight. Some of this other was news to me.

"You know, you have beautiful eyes. I like blue eyes, to me they are rare and precious. Everyone in my family has brown skin, brown hair and brown eyes. We are all the same, boring. You look different, tan bella." (so beautiful)

More silence. Manners, compliments, cooks, wanted a serious girlfriend this might have possibilities. Maybe this was what I had been looking for at some level and didn't even know it.

I finally turned my head to actually look at him. The look in his eyes told me just how serious he was about the whole conversation.

"Why didn't you just come over to talk to me? Am I that scary?" I asked.

"No. I thought you would think I was scary." I just looked blankly at him. "These," he said pointing to some of the tattoos.

Oh. Well if you didn't know him, I guess he could look kind of scary. I turned my body so we were chest to chest. I kissed his neck and laid my head on his shoulder. He had great shoulders to use for pillows. He started playing with my hair and humming softly.

"Why?" I asked. He knew what I meant, why had he joined a gang.

"Lester can explain better, tell the whole story," he said with a sigh.

"No. You tell me what you can. Please," I said.

"I was a good son. I was a good student. I had friends. My family had money," he paused. "Then no money. I was in school when my mother died. I loved college and I had to leave it and my friends. I moved here. I was really alone for the first time. I was angry at her because she was gone. I was angry I had to leave school. I was angry at God. Gangs like people who are angry. I fit," he said.

"Why did you leave?" I asked.

"I changed. I had no more anger. I wanted to live my life, like before but different. I am starting to do that now," he said.

Good enough for me. I didn't want or need any more details.

I was feeling warm, cozy and even safe, well moderately safe. I knew this could complicate things and make them worse, but it felt good to be in his arms and I wasn't ready for that to end just yet.

"Can we nap for a little bit?" I asked him. "We've only slept together two nights but I'll miss you tonight."

"I can stay," he said with a smile.

"As much as I'd like you to, no. Something will happen and I can't do that. Just stay with me now, for a little while," I said. He tried to move me off his chest so he could stand up and go to the bedroom.

"No, out here. It's safer out here. Too much temptation in there," I said.

He resumed his previous position on the sofa and I eased my way back down on his chest. I closed my eyes. I felt at peace. I didn't know what I was going to do, but I knew the truth about him. I wasn't a freak of nature or some experiment and I wasn't being considered as a potential notch on his bedpost.

It was twilight when I woke up. I looked at Hector and smiled, it looked like he was sleeping. I kissed his neck and his shoulder, then I put my head back where it had been. I felt his hand moving along my head, playing with my hair and realized he was awake.

"Can I kiss you?" I asked.

"Yes," was the reply.

At first they were just soft and clingy. They got a little more intense, but neither of us was willing to let it get too far. He finally reached his limit when he said, "I need to leave. If I don't leave now, I won't ever leave. We aren't ready for that, yet."

He was right. I got off of him and let him get up from the sofa. We both looked rumpled, so we straightened our clothes.

I walked him to the door and said, "Thanks for talking to me, for explaining."

"I am glad you aren't angry at me," he said.

"No. Not angry. Promise," I said. "But now you need to go."

One more quick kiss for the road and he left the apartment.

I was feeling better and my self esteem was restored. I had made no false promises and caused no broken hearts. Most importantly, I felt like I could live with myself.