“It’s endearing that you have no game.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“I’m serious,” Leo says. “Do you know what it’s like to date these days?”
“No,” I say with a sarcastic laugh. “I just told you that.”
“It’s awful. No one wants to go out. No one wants to talk. No one wants to get to know anything about someone else. They simply want to hook up and move on to their next victim.”
I think of Barry. Leo continues.
“Gay men are too often stereotyped, but some of the stereotypes are accurate: Too many of us use sex as a way to seek emotional connection. We seek sex to fill the gnawing void in our lives that has been carved out by the lethal claw of a society that has gutted us of self-love and self-acceptance and left a black hole that we believe an anonymous touch can fill. But twenty minutes at a time can never replace an endless calendar of abuse and loathing.” Leo stops and takes a sip of his wine. “Yes, I’m attractive. Yes, I’m in good shape.”
“So we’re in agreement?”
“But,” he interrupts, “it’s part of my job. I have to stay in shape in order to remain on TV.But, Sid, we all get old, and that facade fades. And none of that matters if someone doesn’t actually see beyond that surface. I thought you might see beyond my surface, Sid.”
“I do,” I say. “But it’s a pretty damn good surface, Leo.”
“Thank you,” he says with a laugh. “I see it in my industrytoo often. Our society is infatuated with anti-aging. We alter our appearance with cosmetic surgery until we don’t even resemble ourselves or our family any longer. We diet and exercise and take shots and pills, when we should really be pro-aging because our lines, wrinkles, faults and foibles all tell a story. We try to erase those until we all look the same. I just try to stay in the moment, Sid.”
Leo touches my arm.
“It’s okay to be nervous,” he says. “It’s okay to be vulnerable. That’s actually very sexy.”
“It is?”
“It is.”
Leo scoots his chair over and moves his hand to my thigh. My heart stops. He continues.
“I’m nervous, too.”
“You?”
“I am.” He looks at me. “Do you know why I chose Copley’s for our first date?”
I shake my head.
“Because you told me how romantic it was when we first met on the track,” he continues. “I see you, Sid. I hear you, Sid.” He leans closer. “I wantyou, Sid.”
Leo takes my chin in his big hand. He turns my head toward his and kisses me. He tastes like the wine, black cherry, spice, tobacco, wood.
The sommelier would be proud of my intricate taste buds.
My heart is throbbing in my ears. I feel as if I might faint.
“How was that, Sid Silverstein?” Leo asks.
The world is no longer dim. The lights in the hedge sparkle around us.
Before I can answer, Michael reappears. He glances down at the napkin still in my lap.
“I’d say he thought that kiss was pretty damn good,” he says.
Act Three
Teddy
