After his mother ushered him into the living room, where the guests were entertained, she sat and gave him a brittle smile. “It’s nice to see you.”
“Sure it is. How are you?”
Two strangers might have a more honest conversation than he and his mother.
“I’m fine. I’ll be going to Europe next week. Your father bought me a trip to Paris for my birthday.” Her face glowed with happiness like it always did when she spoke of his father. “He knows I love Paris.”
“Will he be joining you?” He already knew the answer, yet he wanted to hear it for himself.
“No; only for the weekend. You know how busy he is; I hardly see him. But he’s such a perfectionist with details, he’s arranged everything for me, for once he leaves. Isn’t he wonderful?” Her beatific smile at the paltry attention his father chose to pay her angered Marcus to no end.
The extent of his mother’s naiveté was breathtaking. “Oh yeah, he’s wonderful.” He made no attempt to hide the sarcasm from his voice.
“I don’t understand why you two can’t get along. Your father worked like a slave to give you whatever you could possibly want.”
“I didn’t want trips to places that weren’t for children or toys that were too expensive to play with. I wanted parents who wanted me.” Marcus’s mouth snapped shut. He hadn’t meant to speak out loud. “I’d better go.”
“Very well. I have a dinner party to get ready for, and I can’t be late.” She twisted the string of pearls around her neck. “You know your father hates when people are late.”
“Everyone except himself.”
Ironic that a man who hated other people’s foibles would be guilty of the same. The times were too numerous to count when his mother prepared dinners she then had to throw away because his father didn’t come home. And when he did come home, he’d apologize with a careless “I’m sorry” and retreat into his study. At some point, Marcus had grown old enough to understand that his father had been seeing other women.
“I can’t keep him to a schedule. Things come up.”
If it was anyone but his mother, he’d make a lewd joke about the only thing coming up was his father’s dick in some other woman. But even he wasn’t that cruel. After over thirty years of marriage, if she couldn’t see her husband’s faults, it wasn’t Marcus’s job to point them out. Some people preferred to live with their head in the sand, believing that if they were never confronted with a problem, it didn’t exist.
The obligatory visit had run its course. He visited her every few months or so, and each time was as painful as the last. There was no pretense of a loving family; neither of them made an effort. She was no different to him than a stranger on the subway.
“Well, I’ll see you.” Marcus itched to get out of the house and walked back to the front door.
She gave him an odd smile. “Your father told me he saw you about a month ago. You were with a group of men.”
He never had come out directly and told his mother he was gay; there was no attempt on his part to deliberately withhold the information—they simply didn’t have a personal relationship where he found it necessary to share his sexual identity. He was reminded of Nick’s family and how loving they were to Julian, how accepting of their marriage. Zach too had hit the lottery in the parent-prize category.
“Yes. I saw him. I was with my friends.” He owed neither of them anything, least of all an explanation of his life and the choices he made. The fault lay with them; their behavior had molded him into the man he was today. “Goodbye.” He opened the door and left without waiting for a response.
Marcus checked his texts, and as expected there were several missed calls from Zach and Julian as well as a string of texts, beginning with Zach’s:Please come back, we won’t say anything, and ending with one from Julian, which said,You’re being an asshole. There’s nothing wrong with admitting you might have feelings for someone. You don’t need to be lonely.
He shoved the phone back into his pocket and began to walk with no destination in mind. He left Carroll Gardens and walked toward Park Slope, taking in the crowds of people along Smith Street, waiting for lunch and browsing the eclectic, expensive boutiques. The area had flourished in the past decades, changing from a veritable wasteland, full of run-down stores, bodegas, and brownstones cut up into multi-family dwellings, to high-end, fashionable restaurants and multimillion-dollar single family homes. Marcus wasn’t so sure life—as he knew it at least—was any better now than when he was young.
After picking up a slice of pizza and wolfing it down as he meandered up President Street to Fifth Avenue, Marcus looked for a coffee house where he could relax for a while and not be hunted down by his well-meaning, nosy best friends. Unused to spending so much time alone, he discovered he enjoyed his solitude instead of surrounding himself with the usual hangers-on and sycophants who only wanted to use him for their own personal gain. He walked up to Eighth Avenue, a block away from Prospect Park.
Eventually Marcus wandered into one of the small, independent coffee houses so fiercely protected in this liberal bastion of Brooklyn. He ordered a large latte and a big chocolate chip cookie and chose a seat by the window, where the warm rays of the late afternoon sun slanted inside.
He sipped the coffee and gathered his jumbled thoughts. He’d never wished for relationships like Julian and Zach had; it was his belief that a person couldn’t remain monogamous. And for what purpose? Sex with the same person ultimately became tedious and repetitive. Half of the fun was the thrill of the chase, the ultimate surrender, and a new body to explore. Reminding himself of his plans for later that evening and sexy Antonio, he texted him.
Have any plans for later?
His phone buzzed back almost immediately.
I’m wide open.
That brought a smile to Marcus’s face.
Keep that position for later.He didn’t wait for a response; he knew Antonio was hot for it. He’d been giving Marcus signals since he’d started. Tonight they’d both get what they wanted.
With his friends paired up now and maddeningly domesticated, he waited for one of them to complain about boredom setting in, but to his surprise, no one had. Instead, they fed off one another and became stronger; Zach especially had come into his own and no longer shied away from expressing his opinion or asserting his wants and desires. And damn it all if Sam didn’t act inordinately pleased and happy to give Zach exactly what he asked for. And Nick had smoothed Julian’s brittle edges, making him less controlling and rigid.
