Chapter Five

JERRY OPENED his eyes. Blue sky. He should have been up a long time ago to get the best waves. But he hadn’t slept a lot, and when he’d finally crashed, the sky had been getting light. Shit. He stretched an arm out to the side. He could be touching the smooth brown skin of Andres Garcia, but no. He’d chickened out.

He sighed and sat up, leaning against the padded headboard JJ had picked for him. Nice. Comfortable. But he didn’t feel very comfortable right now. His stomach was kind of queasy and jittery. Oh hell, thinking was so not his thing, but it was time to do some.

He was upset about Bill, but… no but, full stop. Number one thing on his mind—upset about Bill.

He looked at the clock: 9:00 a.m. on a Friday. Bill should be out of that fucking retreat thing by now. Okay, enough thinking. He picked up his cell and pushed the speed dial.

That familiar soft voice answered. “Hi, baby.”

Shit. “Baby?”

There was a deep sigh. “I’m so sorry, Jerry. I didn’t intend to stay when I came up here. But when I got here, it was so perfect, so much like home to me. I forgot how stimulating the environment is, how challenging my colleagues are. I moved to SoCal for the money, and that’s not like me. But as soon as I got here, they took that reason away by matching my salary, and all the other stuff just swept me along.”

Jerry beat his hand against the pillow. “Yeah, challenging and stimulating. I sure can’t compete with that.”

“Come on, Jerry. You drive me crazy with putting yourself down. You’re a smart man.”

“Not as smart as you.”

“You’re a different kind of smart. You have wisdom and truth. I just have book learning.”

He threw the pillow at his foot. “Okay, then, why didn’t you come back?”

Silence.

He blew out his breath hard. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain. I wish you the best in your new life.”

“Jerry, wait, don’t hang up.”

“Okay.”

His voice was soft. “Be honest. Did you really want to be with me forever?”

Well, hell. “I thought so.”

“Really? We’re so different.”

“Yeah.” It sounded pretty snarly.

“Not because I’m smart and you’re dumb. Quite the contrary. You’re so dynamic. You’re brilliant at all the physical things like surfing and every sport. You’re a great firefighter. Me? I’m an ivory tower nerd. I like to sit over long lunches and argue philosophy.”

“Which I can’t do!”

“Which you don’t want to do. Come on, Jerry. I know you have trouble reading because of the dyslexia, but hell, if you wanted to read Rimbaud and Chaucer, you would, or you’d listen to them on tapes. You’re doing the stuff you like to do. I can sit and read while you surf, but I yearn to be arguing with someone over something you’d consider a waste of time. Neither of us is right. Just different. I love you. I do. But I think we’re better friends than lovers.”

He twisted the sheets. “Oh, really. I thought we did pretty well in that area.”

“We did brilliantly in that area. But we can’t live on sex.”

Jerry grinned. “You sure?”

Bill laughed and Jerry breathed.

Bill’s voice sounded a little lighter. “So come on, tell me about what’s going on. I love hearing about your life. It’s so exciting.”

Exciting? Him? “We had a fire at an elementary school this week, but it was out by the time we got there. Still, I got to go talk to the kids the next day. They were so great. I loved it.”

“I’ll bet they loved you too.”

“Oh, and guess who was nice to me.”

“Who?”

“Mick Cassidy.”

“Mick…? Oh hell, you don’t mean that big asshole that Rodney punched out?”

“None other.”

“What do you think he wants?”

“I hadn’t really thought that he might want something from me. Hell, I’m gay. He hates anyone gay. But he went to see the kids with me. He started real stiff but got better. And then he asked me to lunch. It was weird.”

“Be careful.”

“Yeah, that’s what Hunter said too. But Mick’s a good firefighter. That’s why the cap kept him when he insulted Hunter and his family.”

“Maybe he’s reformed?”

“Maybe.”

“Anyway, baby, I’m so sorry about the way this happened. I wouldn’t have chosen to hurt you ever, but it’s kind of good, because I miss you badly, and if I was there… well, let’s just say I wouldn’t be as lonely. But I think we both need to find our way. I’ve learned so much from you—about life and myself. I hope we can stay friends forever.”

Jerry frowned. “Yeah, I’m a great friend.”

“Actually, that’s true. One of the best. That’s a measure of your character.”

“I don’t know about that part, but I’m sure shit at keeping a boyfriend.”

“You just haven’t found the right guy yet.”

He sighed. “I guess.”

“Keep calling me, please. And I’m so sorry about not being there for the ball.”

“Rod found me a date.”

Bill paused. “It’s a sign of my ignominy that hearing that makes me jealous.”

“I don’t know what that means, but I’m glad you’re jealous. And you should be. He’s this gorgeous Hispanic guy.”

“Rub it in.”

“With pleasure. But actually, for some reason I seem to want to act like a monk or something.”

“You’re reevaluating your life.”

“Is that it? Well, it sucks the weenie.”

“Or it doesn’t.”

It felt good to laugh.

MICK WALKED toward the house. He hadn’t been to a prayer meeting for months, but today was the day. Jesus, he felt like he was going to throw up. He’d always known what to believe. Now he didn’t even know what he wanted. No, that wasn’t true. He wanted stuff all the time, and it was bad.

The door stood ajar, so he pushed it open quietly and slipped into the big room where people were lined up on the floor and in chairs with their eyes closed. His father hadn’t started, so he wasn’t late.

One of the brothers waved to him and indicated a chair beside him. Mick scooted between the bodies. He nodded at the guy and sat. If the man knew what Mick had been thinking, what he’d been doing, he wouldn’t want to sit next to him.

He looked around the room. Maybe twenty or so people were gathered. Not everyone could get there on a Friday morning. Jezebel sat on the floor in the corner, and her wide eyes bored daggers into him. Could she see how he’d changed? What he’d done?

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Okay, God, show me something.

He sorted through his prayers and decided he’d wing it. I’m humbly sorry for my sins. For my evil ways. I’m sorry I watched that evil trash, and I’m sorry I stuck my fingers… where I stuck them, and….

Was he sorry? God, it was his body.

Bodies are evil. They lead us astray. Never trust them. I am humbly sorry for my lust. He sighed. If having those feelings was so evil, how come God gave them to him? A test. Yes, a test of purity. But he was twenty-four and he’d never been with a woman. Never even tempted. Hell, when he was in college, girls had chased him like renegade hounds. Called him a cutie. One even made it her job to teach him how to kiss. But he didn’t give in and fuck her. Didn’t that count for something?

No, it was weird. He didn’t know any virgins as old as he was. Most of the guys he knew from childhood had gotten married when they were eighteen because they couldn’t stand the pressure. They wanted sex and were even willing to marry somebody to get it. Man, were some of them miserable.

Okay, pray, dammit. Lord, forgive me for my wickedness and lead me back to righteousness. Oh hell. Look, God, I want to do what’s right, but I don’t know what that is anymore. Do you understand that? It would be great to have somebody in my life who understands me. Somebody.

His father’s voice cut through the silence in the room and the screaming in his brain. “Let us raise our hearts in supplication to the Lord.”

Yes, supplication. Good.

“Lord, help us to wipe out the evil and perversion of the world.”

Was he perverted?

“Help us to raise our hands and brand the wickedness that we see all around us and then smite it in your name.”

Smite? Damn. Why couldn’t they just pray?

“Let us show these evildoers—the drunks, the addicts, the fags—the error of their ways, and if they will not see, arm us with courage to strike out their eyes—”

No! Enough. His stomach clenched and he stood, looked down so he didn’t see his father’s eyes, and stepped over the girl on the floor next to him. Three steps to the entry and out the damned door. He stopped on the lawn and took a breath. No smiting. No striking. Jesus. He’d been half gone on alcohol until that fag, Rodney, kicked some sense into him. What if someone had decided to strike Rodney for his perversion? Who said they should be the strikers anyway?

He started walking toward his car.

“Michael.”

He turned and saw Jezebel. Her dumpy dress had little flowers on it, like something from an old TV series. She walked up to him and spoke in kind of a hiss. “What are you doing here? Why did you come to prayers? I tell you the truth, and you come back here to confess to Daddy?”

What was she talking about? Oh, right. “Look, this isn’t about you. I just wanted to try and get some stuff straight in my head.”

Her eyes widened. “Here? You’ve got to be kidding.”

He stared at her. “Yeah, I see that now.”

“So do you still want to go to the dance?”

“Yeah. I do.”

“It’s a long way to Laguna from here. My parents are letting me stay with some family friends in Costa Mesa. You can pick me up there.” She handed him a slip of paper with an address. “That number is theirs. I don’t have a cell phone.”

“Okay. Want to get some dinner first?”

She smiled. “That would be real nice.”

“I’ll pick you up at six thirty, then, okay?”

“Okay. I sewed a dress for the ball. My mom hasn’t seen it.” She laughed. “And she’s never going to.”