Chapter 9 – Tuna Macaroni Casserole
Brian stood at the window, shirt undone, smoking.
Gentle jazz music filled the dimly lit loft as Brian waited for Justin to come home. He knew that Justin had spent the day visiting, talking - trying to find the right path. Brian could only hope it had helped.
The phone rang.
"Brian, it's Daphne. He's at my place."
Brian felt the tension leave his shoulders with the knowledge that Justin wasn't out wandering the streets. "How's he doing?"
"I'm not sure." Daphne's voice was filled with concern for her best friend. "He's drawing. You know how he gets when he's working out his problems. We were talking about his dad and he started to sketch. Right now I don't think he'd notice you if you walked by naked."
Brian smiled at the image. "Daphne, you've seen me naked. Be honest – he'd notice."
A small chuckle came over the line. "You're probably right. I remember the day he met you. He said he'd seen the face of God."
Brian smirked. "How appropriate."
He heard laughter in Daphne's voice. "Since you're not here, naked, he'll be sketching for a while. He needs to."
"You're right." Brian had seen Justin caught up in his art often enough to know it had a therapeutic value. "What's he sketching?"
"His dad, you and Gus are the main themes. I love the ones of Gus."
"When he comes up for air, tell him I want the ones of Gus." Brian's face softened as it always did at the mention of his son. "And Daphne? I'm glad you're there for him."
Daphne's initial response was a flippant, "Where else would I be?" before her tone grew more serious with "Brian, don't worry, we'll get him through this." She paused for a moment. "We'll get both of you through this."
Brian could hear the affection in her voice. In the months since Justin had left for New York, he and Daphne had spent a lot of time together, just talking about Justin at first.
Then one night, a couple of weeks after Justin's move, they'd gotten high together and talked all night. Under the influence of the drugs, Brian had confessed how much he missed Justin. Daphne had confided that Justin was miserable and couldn't paint - needed Brian.
The next day, Brian had called Justin to tell him the truth - things weren't okay without him. It was the first real conversation they had had since Justin had left. After that, calls occurred several times a day, rather than several times a week. Brian knew he had Daphne to thank for refusing to let them drift apart.
Since the all-nighter, Brian and Daphne's friendship had grown, deepening into it's present state. She was the one that had convinced him to go to New York. Her pointed comment "So your great plan is for both of you to be miserable forever? Don't you think you can come up with something better than that?" had hit home, driving him to figure out a way to solve the problem.
"Thanks, Daph… for everything." Brian finished up the call.
Brian walked across the loft to the table where he had left his laptop and the advertising layouts for the next day. He stared off into space for a while, then tried to focus on getting a little work done, Justin always on his mind.
About an hour later, Brian was startled by a knock on the door. He slid back the door to find Debbie Novotny with a tuna macaroni casserole.
"And here I wasn't planning to work out tomorrow." As he made the sarcastic comment, he moved aside to let her in, gesturing toward the couch.
"You're too damned skinny anyway," was her predictable response.
Brian smiled at the sight of Debbie settling down on the couch looking at him expectantly. He went over to a drawer, picking up the contents within. "It's a good thing Anita just laid in a fresh supply of weed." Snagging some cutlery, Brian made his way over to the couch and sat gracefully on the floor, his shoulder resting easily against Debbie's leg.
Debbie waited, the silence between them comfortable with the music softly playing in the background, until Brian passed her the lit joint. She coughed slightly when she inhaled, and passed it back.
"So what profound thoughts bring you to my humble abode?" Brian asked.
"Nothing humble about it," Debbie said as she looked around the loft. "Where do you buy all this stuff anyway?"
Brian looked at her with a quirked brow. "Planning to redecorate?"
"No. Just wondering." After a slight pause to smoke, she added, "Justin came by to see me today. I was wondering how you were doing?" Debbie looked down at Brian with concern.
"Fine. Why wouldn't I be? I'm not the one thinking about surgery."
Debbie shook her head lightly at his misunderstanding. "I wasn't talking about the surgery. You guys will work through that, no matter what happens." The marijuana was having its usual effect, slowing her down. She listened to the music for a moment before looking down at the man who was a second son to her. She slid off the couch to sit next to him on the floor.
"I'm worried about what happens to you when Justin goes back to New York."
Brian leaned back against the couch, inhaling. "I'll be okay."
"Bullshit," she said quietly. "You were a mess last time he left, don't think I didn't notice. That first couple of weeks, I thought you were going to drown yourself in booze and men." Debbie smiled softly. "I was proud of you when you pulled it back together, got on with your life. I don't want to see you go through that again."
"Don't worry. Everything's going to be okay." Brian was mellowing with the drug. He passed the joint back to Debbie. He decided it was as good a time as any to let everyone know his plans. "I'm going to New York, too."
"What?" Debbie knew she'd be annoyed later, but the marijuana made her start to laugh softly. "Christ, everybody's moving to New York. First Justin, then Emmett, now you."
"Honeycutt's going to New York?"
"Yeah, he's going on TV, talking about kinky sex. Maybe you could be his guest," Debbie smiled at the thought. "After all, you know more about fucking than anyone else in Pittsburgh." Brian gave a half-laugh at the thought, looking down at the cigarette.
Debbie passed Brian a fork and opened the casserole. The two of them sat for a while, listening to the tunes, eating out of the dish.
"You know, Brian," Debbie said thoughtfully, "I sometimes think that all the problems you and Sunshine have had come down to one thing."
"What's that? His lack of fashion sense?"
Debbie rolled her eyes. "Maybe, but that wasn't what I meant." Debbie was feeling very smooth. "I think it was Shakespeare who said, Expectations make your heart ache." She looked off into space. "Or maybe I heard it in a song."
Brian looked at Debbie quizzically, a puzzled smile on his face. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
"Be patient. I'm thinking." She paused for a moment. "When you two first met, you didn't expect anything. Justin expected everything. That's why he kept getting hurt." Debbie continued "I figure you've spent the last five years fighting your way to expectations you can both live with."
Brian thought back to all the conversations and fights over the years, ending with the last one in New York – laying out the new rules. He gave a smile and a small nod to Debbie, acknowledging the accuracy of her statement. "I'm not sure we've found it yet."
"Well, that's what keeps it interesting." Debbie grinned before becoming suddenly serious. "Now, you listen to me."
Brian focused on Debbie, his gaze drifting slightly before settling on her face.
She continued. "The one thing that Justin needs the most and expects the least is you saying you love him. You need to tell him twenty, thirty times a day." Debbie got caught up in an image in her mind, "Maybe hire one of those airplanes – you know with a big sign that says Brian loves Justin."
Brian started to laugh. Deb looked annoyed for a moment, then grinned "Okay, maybe not. But my point is, I know it's hard for you, but you have to make an effort. How many times have you said it since he left?"
Brian looked at Debbie, surprised, "A few." Brian went on, thinking about those three little words. "But people say it so easily. Most times they don't mean it. Not really."
"What? You think he doesn't mean it?" Debbie looked at Brian, waiting. The silence was stark, speaking louder than words. Debbie paused, considering the man in front of her. She continued slowly. "I think he said it the first day you met, and ever since then some nasty little part of you has wondered if it's real, since it was so easy."
At Brian's wry look, Debbie hit him on the head in irritation.
"What the fuck?" Brian stared at Debbie in surprise.
"Get over it!" she looked him square in the eye. "He loves you and it hasn't been easy. Idiot." The last word was said with ample amounts of affection. Deb ate a few more bites of the macaroni, watching her surrogate son. She sighed at the conflict raging across Brian's face. "Justin grew up knowing people loved him, you grew up with parents who, well, let's just be nice and say some people shouldn't be parents. It's not surprising he recognized love first." Debbie stopped and thought for a moment before continuing. "And Brian, no matter what your mother and father told you, you are worth loving."
Brian sat on the floor beside the woman he considered his real mother, thinking. Years of having her watch out for him had coalesced into one simple truth - he trusted Debbie. He felt… safe when she was around. Relaxed by a combination of the drugs and that sense of safety, Brian's subconscious took Debbie at her word and reran his past with Justin, the viewpoint shifting slightly as he replayed the scenes assuming that Justin loved him rather than doubting he could. After a while, the memories coalesced into a different, more solid pattern.
It felt right.
Glancing over at Debbie, Brian struggled to find words to describe what he was feeling. He decided to keep it simple.
"Thanks, Deb. I love you, too"
Several hours later Brian lay in bed, his mind drifting, when he heard the sliding door to the loft open. Justin was home.
Justin stripped down to his underwear and walked toward the bed. Brian reached over to lift the sheets, letting Justin know he was awake.
"Did you decide?" Brian asked quietly into the dark.
Justin tensed slightly before answering, "Yeah. I am going to do it."
"I thought you would. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't picture you walking away from him. We'll get through it."
Justin crawled into bed and put his head on Brian's chest.
Brian's arms tightened around Justin tenderly. He felt Justin give a sigh, sinking into the embrace. Brian smiled, content.
It felt right.