CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

 

 

BILLY WALKED up to his folks’ house. The grass needed cutting. It had been weeks since he’d been there. Since before the wedding. Since before Shaz. He stared down at his sneakers with the hole in the toe. Get this over with.

He opened the front door. Sounds of voices and laughter came from the dining room as always. The thought of going in there made him sick to his stomach. He stepped back out on the porch and closed the door. Might as well cut the fucking grass. Down the walk and up the driveway toward the rear garage, his parents kept a shed where they stored gardening equipment. He pulled the double doors open and hauled out the mower. With a yank he fired it up, then started his familiar pattern, down one side and up the other. Nice fresh smell, sort of like the scent of Shaz’s neck.

Somebody looked out the window, but he just kept cutting. The longer it took, the longer he didn’t have to go in there.

His dad came out on the front porch and yelled, “Billy, come inside. You don’t have to do that now.”

Keep mowing. If not now, he’d have to come back later, and he didn’t want to. After a couple of minutes, his dad shrugged and walked back inside.

When Billy finished the front, he kept going and mowed the back. That was more challenging because of the big trees, but he pushed and hauled. He’d hated doing the back when he was a kid. Now it felt good to bang the mower against tree trunks.

After one big hit against a giant ficus, he gave the fuck up and turned off the mower. He was twice done. Mow anymore and the grass would rise up in protest.

He dragged the mower back to the shed. Quit stalling. He shut the doors with a bang and dragged his feet to the back porch. The usual good smells greeted him when he opened the door. His mom pulled a roast beef from the oven while Teresa mashed potatoes. His stomach growled, then flipped.

His mom looked up from the roast. “Billy, where have you been? We haven’t seen you for weeks. And how can you come here looking like that when I know you have nice clothes to wear now? Isn’t your family deserving of your good appearance?”

He stared at her. How could he say he couldn’t bear to wear the clothes because they made him think of Shaz? “I don’t give a damn how I look.”

Her mouth fell open, and he walked across the kitchen, pushed open the swinging door, and walked through to the dining room. Six pairs of eyes looked up as he came in and all conversation stopped. Rhonda gazed at him steadily, but Mitch was a deer in the headlights. What did they expect him to say? Done any more cheating with random gay guys, Mitch?

His dad seemed to pick up on his mood. He walked over, slapped Billy’s shoulder, and stuck out his hand. “Thanks for doing the lawns, son. They really needed it.”

“Yeah.”

“Everything good at work?”

“Yeah.”

“How are the cats?”

His dad hated cats, so that made him smile. “They’re good. Feline as ever.”

His father laughed. “I was afraid of that.”

That broke the ice, and Austin walked over and shook hands. “Good to see you.”

“Thanks. Where’re Clarice and Fred?”

“She’s working late at the hospital. Fred’s going to meet her and then come here. I guess they’re short nurses, so they really work her. Hell, sounds like she’s been working near as hard as you.”

The door to the kitchen bumped open, and Teresa came in butt first, carrying two steaming bowls. She put them on hot pads on the table and then walked straight to Billy. “Hi, kiddo.”

“Hi, sis.”

“Come with me.” She led him out of the dining room into the barely used formal living room, where she turned and stared up into his face. “What’s eating you?”

He shook his head. “Nothing I’m up for talking about.”

“Okay. Got that. If you do want to talk, you have my number.”

He grinned. He loved Teresa so much. “Always have had your number.”

“So true. Just tell me you’re okay. Not dying of some dreaded disease. You’ve lost weight.”

“Nothing dire.” He sucked in air to keep the heat behind his eyes from getting worse. “Just figuring out life.”

“Okay, well, that’s a good thing. You’ve been living someone else’s life for way too long.”

He stared at her. “Why didn’t you ever tell me that?”

“Like all big life stuff, we each have to find it out for ourselves.” She hugged him, which felt good.

Their mother’s voice sounded from the dining room. “Dinner!”

She stepped back. “Seriously, if you need a sounding board, I’m here. You know that.”

“Thank you. You always have been.” But was this too much even for Teresa? Could he say “I’m gay and seriously out of my mind for a guy with flaming red hair that hangs down to his shoulders and wears makeup and pink pants who doesn’t love me back”? Jesus Ballew, when you reevaluate life, you sure don’t fuck around.

When they got back to the dining room, everyone else was seated. Teresa sat next to Austin, and Billy picked the chair between his father and Mitch.

His mother said grace, and they started passing dishes. He took a little of everything, but only the mashed potatoes actually tasted good to him. Comfort on a plate.

His mother took a slice of roast beef from the platter. “So, Billy, where is Sissy?”

He looked up and caught Teresa looking at him with compassion. Enough of this shit. “I have no idea where she is.”

“I was hoping you would bring her today.”

“Then you should have invited her, Mother, because Sissy and I have no relationship beyond being casual friends. And never will have. Pass the potatoes.”

“I see.”

“Good.” He put more potatoes on his plate, set them down in front of him on the table, and shoved a forkful into his mouth.

If the others were picking up on his mood, his mother was working hard to ignore it. Pushing her luck. “So who are you dating? Are we going to meet a new young lady soon?”

Slowly, he set down his fork. “Ma’am, I mean no disrespect, but I’m a grown man and have been for a long time. I’m living my own life and feel no need to explain it or justify it to anyone. If that isn’t okay with you, forgive me, but just don’t invite me to dinner in the future.” He pushed back the chair, rose, and walked out of the house. He could practically feel the waves of shock emanating from the dining room.

Inside the truck he looked down at his hands that were shaking like he had the disease Teresa was afraid of. He still hadn’t told his mother he was gay.

 

 

SHAZ SAT at his office desk and stared at the profit and loss statement for the business. Figures swam in front of his eyes. He had to make a decision and get his damned love life out of the equation. With a sniff, he blew his nose. Doing what was best for his business, his employees, and himself. Mutually exclusive? Shit. He stared at the printout again.

Shazam was doing great. How much better would those numbers be if he went into business with Alexander? The Longstory name commanded respect throughout the world of fashion. Longstory and Phillips would position Shaz as both the partner and the heir, not that Alex was that old. It would increase clientele and revenues. It would benefit all the people who worked for Shazam. Lord, it would make Rupert. His designs would be seen on an international stage.

Shaz sat back and squeezed the bridge of his nose. All he had to do was compromise. Not necessarily in a bad way, but partnership was compromise and Alex would be the senior partner, no matter how they set it up on paper. They’d develop a joint vision for the business to replace the single vision that Shaz held now. A joint vision that would strongly reflect Alex’s point of view since he was more famous and richer.

Oh yes, not to mention the little detail of Shaz’s cock in Alex’s ass. That was surely part of Alex’s vision. If Shaz said no to that part, could he make it stick? Or would he succumb because it was easier not to fight?

Oh sweet crap, he’d like to dig a hole and crawl in.

The tapping on his half-open door accompanied the voice. “Boss?”

Shaz looked up. “Millicent, when did I become your boss?”

She grinned in that cheeky way she had. “Always. I just don’t always like to admit it.”

“Well, go back to not admitting it, darling. What can I do for you?”

“I’m an, uh, emissary.”

Shaz sat up straighter. “Emissary, huh? Did Ru teach you that word?”

“Yep.” She laughed.

“Okay, emissary, come sit down.” She settled into the comfortable chair across his desk. “What’s up?”

“Ru told us about the offer you got from Alexander Longstory.”

“Yes, I told him he could tell you.”

“Yeah. Well, we all think it’s very cool that this big-name dude picked you. Hell, he could have his choice of stylists, and it shows how good you are that he wants to be in business with you.”

Shaz hid his sigh. “Yes, I suppose it is a compliment to all of us.”

“Yeah, well, we know you wouldn’t go anywhere without taking all of us, so we figured it was a package deal.”

He smiled. “True.”

A sound came from the half-open door like a “psst.” Millicent looked up and nodded. Clearly a team effort. That made sense since it affected all their futures.

She shrugged and grinned. “So the point is, we think it shows you’re so good that you don’t need him.”

“What?”

“Yeah. Ru says you’re rising faster than he is, and we think that’s why he wants you. He might be more famous now, but you’re the up-and-comer, and he wants to grab on to your star. So we think you shouldn’t do it. Mostly, we like working for you, and we want to help you be the big star on your own with no help from Mr. Has-Been.”

Shaz stared at her, then burst out laughing. “Are you serious?”

She nodded.

“Well, son of a bitch.”

The door pushed open and in piled Ru, Amy, Cassandra, and behind them crowded his two assistant stylists, Hank and José, plus he could see the tops of the heads of his hairdressers.

Cass pushed to the front. “Listen, Shaz, baby, Cassandra doesn’t work for anybody but you. Okeydokey?”

Amy stepped up, flashing her usual spandex. “We believe everything that Millicent said. Plus we want you to be happy, and we don’t think you would be happy working with somebody else. You want to do your business your way, and we signed on because we believe in that.”

Shaz reached up and wiped his face. “Sorry, I’ve been doing a lot of crying lately. I can’t tell you how much it means that you understand that.”

“Then no partnership with the LA guy, okeydokey?” Cass crossed her arms in victory.

Shaz nodded. It was like someone just gave him his life back. “Okeydokey.”

Ru stepped forward and put an envelope on his desk.

“What’s this?” He looked down at the formal white vellum—with the Fashion Institute return address.

Ru grinned. “Open it. We’re all dying here.”

He used a letter opener on the envelope. “The Fashion Institute of Los Angeles cordially asks your presence at the Fashion Institute Gala Award Banquet. Please RSVP by yada yada.” He looked up at a bunch of anxious faces. “Nothing special. Just the banquet.”

Ru shook his head. “You’ve never gotten a written invite before, just an announcement flyer and e-mail.”

“So? They got fancy.”

Millicent clapped her hands. “I’ll bet you’re getting an award.” A couple of the others nodded.

“I doubt it.”

“I’ll bet you are!”

He wanted to cry again. “Thank you for believing in me, all of you. We’ll get a table at the banquet and all go. It will be our celebration. We don’t need an award.”

That got some big grins. Millicent asked, “Can we raid the style closet?”

“Hell, yes. We’ll be the best-dressed table at the damned gala.”

Ru must be able to tell he was just hanging on, so he started ushering people out of the office. He looked over his shoulder at Shaz. “Seems like we might need to know if that building you found can be renovated into the studio you want.”

Shaz frowned. “I’ve looked at the numbers. The renovation would take too much of our operating capital. If I’m not doing this thing with Alex, then we can’t afford it.” He shook his head. “We can’t have it both ways. You’re sure you want to pass up a big opportunity like this? It affects you as much as me.”

Ru stepped over to Shaz’s side and put the omnipresent tablet in front of him. “Look.”

The screen showed the site of one of the fashion gossip bloggers, a favorite of Ru’s. “What am I looking at?”

Ru reached out and scrolled down the page. A small story read Star Declining for Longstory? The text went on to say that while the fashion press continued to extol his praises, the blogger had inside information that indicated Longstory was losing clients to younger, hipper stylists. Son of a bitch. He looked up at Ru. “You think it’s true?”

“Yes.” He drew his brows together. “I trust this blogger. She’s seldom wrong. And it makes sense. Yes, you are the hottest guy on two feet, but you’re also one of the fastest-rising stars in fashion. I think Alex wants you to save his ass as much as he wants to poke yours.”

Shaz sat back. “Probably much more. As much as I want to believe I’m irresistible.”

Ru nodded.

“Thank you, dear. Speaking of asses, how many times in my life have you saved mine?”

“The truth is, going into business with the man probably wouldn’t be awful from a financial perspective. He does have a very famous name. You have the skills. Together, you could probably be a success. But why? It’s a big millstone to hang around your neck.”

Shaz rested his face in his hands. “Thank you. I didn’t want to do it. No matter who it was good for.”

Ru rested his hands on Shaz’s shoulders. “It’s time for you to do what’s good for you.”

He looked up. “I wish I knew what that was.”

“You do.”

Shaz glared at him.

Ru held up his hands in surrender. “Okay. But one thing I do know, darling.”

“What?”

“You’re going to need one helluva date for the gala.”

Shaz started to cry again.

 

 

BILLY SLIPPED out onto the half-finished porch to escape the sound of hammers. He sipped some water from his metal bottle and stared down at the drawing. He should chuck this thing, but somehow working on it kept him sane. It made him feel good to imagine that Shaz had this great place to work.

“Hey, buddy, what ya got?” Jim clapped him on the shoulder and peeked around his back to look at the drawing. Billy folded it quickly. “Nothing. Just something I’ve been doodling on.”

“C’mon, let me see.”

Oh, what the hell? Why not? He unfolded the paper and held it out for Jim.

“Hey, man, that’s cool. Where is this place?”

“It’s an old building I saw in downtown Laguna. I just imagined what it could look like. It needs a lot of work, but it’s got real potential.”

“It’s not a project? Shit, man, I’d love to work on this with you. These are great ceilings. Where do you come up with these ideas?”

Billy shrugged. “I’ve just been doing this a long time.’

“Not as long as me. You’re just a natural. You gotta get that license so you can build your own stuff.”

“Can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve got a phobia about tests. Can’t take them. They freak me out.” There, he’d said it. He hadn’t even exploded or anything.

“That’s the shits. Anything I can do to help?”

Billy shook his head. “Thanks, but I don’t seem to be able to get past it.”

“Well, damn. Can’t you petition them or something? Like a handicap?”

He smiled. “Sorry. Doubt they’d consider it a reason. They’d tell me to get over it.”

Jim shrugged and leaned on the railing. “At least it makes more sense than your usual reason. Everybody on this crew knows you’re smart as hell.”

“Thanks.”

“Of course, you’re mother-fuckin’ ugly.”

Billy punched Jim’s shoulder, got a punch back, and they both went in to work.

An hour later, the guys were starting to slow down and clean up, cover equipment, and get ready to leave for the day. Harry climbed off a ladder. “Hey, Raoul, you goin’ out with us tonight?”

“Naw, can’t. I have to have dinner with my wife’s fag nephew and his fucking boyfriend. Seriously. I mean, this guy is a football star in college but he smokes dicks, man. What the hell?”

Billy stood there. Somebody else said something. White noise. All his life he’d heard people say shit just like that. Maybe he didn’t agree, but he never said a word about it. Now he felt sick.

Jim looked over at him. “Billy, you okay?”

He shook his head. It sounded like the ocean in his ears.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m gay.”

Jim grinned. “Yeah, right. You’re sick is what you are.”

He took a deep breath. “No. I’m gay. Sorry I never told you, but I didn’t exactly know.”

The room got quieter. Harry said, “What did he say?”

Billy looked up. “I said I’m gay. I haven’t been keeping it from you. I just didn’t quite know it. You know how I never seem to be able to go through with my engagements? Yeah, well, I finally figured out that’s why.” He walked over to his tool case. All the guys just stared at him. “Sorry. I doubt they’ll take me off the job since they don’t have another supervisor, but if you want to get reassigned, just let me know, okay? No hard feelings. Thanks.” He grabbed the carrier and walked out the door.

There it was.

He’d just come out.

If you didn’t count wanting to die, it wasn’t so bad.

“Billy!”

He turned around and saw Jim jogging toward him. Jim stopped and looked up at Billy. “You’re serious?”

“Not something I’d likely say otherwise.”

“Yeah. Man.” He shook his head and stared at his boots. Another deep breath and he looked up at Billy. “I want you to know that I’m sorry for every piece of shit trash I’ve slung at homos for the last five years. You’re a good guy. You were five minutes ago and you still are. I’m proud to work with you. Just sayin’. You got a boyfriend? That why you never come out to the bar with us?”

“No. I guess I didn’t feel comfortable, but I didn’t know why.”

“Well, you’re welcome at any table where I sit, Ballew. Any time, including now if you want to come.”

“Probably the guys need some process time.”

“Yeah. Maybe. But there won’t be any more trash-talking where I’m sitting, so they’ll have to decide.”

“Thank you, Jim.”

“You earned whatever respect you get.”

“Not everyone will see it that way.”

“No.”

“I appreciate you telling me.”

“I think of you as a friend. This don’t change that.”

Billy stuck out his hand. “Thank you.”

Jim took his hand, then pulled him in for the one-arm guy hug.

Billy stared down at his work boots. “Only one other person knows.”

“No shit? You weren’t kidding about not knowing?”

Billy shook his head.

“Sometime over a couple beers, you’ll have to tell me how you didn’t know.”

Billy shrugged. “Still figuring that out myself.”

“But you’re sure?”

“When the words came out of my mouth in there, I knew I was sure.”

“Brave man to try it out on this crew.”

Billy smiled. “Yeah. I figured I’d go for the top. Well, except my mother.”

“I read somewhere that this guy said it was easier to be black than to be gay because you didn’t have to tell your mother that you’re black.”

Billy nodded.

“How bad will it be?”

He sighed. “Bad.”

 

 

BILLY SCANNED down the price list. If he replaced the travertine with slate, that would save a lot of money and look just as good. Yeah, Shaz was a travertine kind of guy, but they could find a really elegant slate instead.

Or rather, Shaz could find the slate.

Billy stretched, sighed, and pushed back from his computer. He’d been sitting here for hours, ever since he got home from work. It must be ten or later. Working on this building kept him from thinking about what the fuck the guys at work must be saying. But Jim had been amazing, and Jim’s opinion counted a lot with those guys.

He glanced at the screen again. Who was he kidding? Shaz would never even see this. But he should. This building could be perfect for him.

“Merwaowr.”

He reached down and scratched Clancy’s big head. “He should see it, shouldn’t he?”

Yerby leaped in his lap for some love. Billy pressed his cheek against the black, silky fur. “Do you miss him too? I think you guys liked him a lot.”

Clancy got jealous and jumped up beside Yerby, which made for a lot of fur, even on his big body. He tried to keep up with the butting heads demanding attention. Funny how empty he felt. Like he had a space in him.

His phone rang, Clancy leaped to the floor, and Yerby started to sniff. Typical cats. He fished in his pocket for the phone and cracked a little smile. Teresa. “Hi, sis.”

“Hi. So I gave you a little space since your performance at the family dinner yesterday. Any remarks you’d care to make?”

He knew she’d ask, so he’d been thinking. “I didn’t show up intending to insult Mom, but I’m honest and truly sick of her digging in my business. I’ll get married when and if I want to, and I don’t have to report to her on the subject.”

“Bravo. About time.”

“So I get the impression that there’s a lot of stuff you’ve wanted to say to me that you didn’t say.”

“You weren’t ready to hear it, Billy. You were plodding along in a life someone else created for you. You had to see that before you could change.”

“Yeah, well, I saw it.”

“Can I ask what prompted this new clarity?”

Oh hell, this was Teresa. “I’m gay.”

Silence.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to shock you.”

“I’m not shocked. I’ve suspected it for some time.”

“Teresa! What the hell else aren’t you telling me about myself?”

She chuckled. “Not much, except maybe that you really like that redheaded stylist from the wedding. Shaz.”

Oh shit, that hurt. His turn to be quiet.

“Billy? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He sighed. “Everything. I kind of found out I was gay because of the way I felt about Shaz. But now it’s over and I feel so—hurt, I guess. Not by him. Hell, he doesn’t owe me anything. Just by the world. I finally find out who I am and get kicked in the gut for it.”

“Finding out who you are is always painful and never a bad thing.”

“What made you so smart?”

“It’s hard to be yourself with Mama around, but that just means getting there is sweeter.”

“Not so far.” But wait. “Actually, that’s not completely true. I told the guys at work, and Jim came and gave me a lot of support. I really appreciated it. And you too.”

“You came out at work?”

“Yeah.”

“Brave man.” She chuckled. “That should reorient some of their thinking. One of their own is gay.”

“I guess.”

She sighed. “Funny. I would have sworn Shaz was totally into you.”

“He was, kind of. I was sort of a pause between two rich boyfriends.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I think so. Why?”

“I just remember glancing up and seeing that guy look at you and it was like music played and bluebirds chirped, seriously. Real hearts and flowers. I remember I was hoping you turned out to be gay, because Shaz was in for some heartache if you weren’t.”

“You wanted me to be gay?”

“If you were, yes. I want you to stop kidding yourself. And I want you to have Shaz if you want him.”

“Yeah, well, he got a better offer.”

“Do you want him?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why don’t you fight for him? Come on.”

He ran a hand over Yerby’s back. “You wouldn’t say that if you saw my competition. The guy’s famous and rich and really good-looking. He wants Shaz to go into business with him.”

“Well, if you lost Shaz, I’m truly sorry. He seemed like a genuinely nice guy. Just remember, we don’t always want what the world thinks we should want.”

“Yeah. Like women.”

“Exactly. So you honestly didn’t know you were gay? Maybe you’re bisexual?”

“No. Just slow.”

“Billy, you’ve been working so hard since you were a young kid, I’m surprised you know your name, much less your sexual orientation.”

He leaned back in the chair and rocked. Yerby purred, and Clancy jumped back up beside his pal. Lover. Whatever. “I never knew anyone who was gay. I mean, I probably did, but I didn’t know it.”

“Hell, sweetie, you spend all your time with construction workers and Little League parents. Not exactly hotbeds of alternative sexuality.”

“I guess not. Now I think back and wonder how many of the guys I’ve worked with over the years were gay.” He shook his head. “I never really wanted girls much, but I guess I didn’t think there was any other choice”

“Were you attracted to boys? Men?”

“Maybe. I remember stuff I thought and felt, but I never quite connected it. I always liked to whack off to gay porn.” He sat up, and Clancy squawked. “God, I’m sorry, sis. TMI.”

She laughed. “Might as well get me ready for my son’s teenage years.”

“How would you feel if he turned out to be gay?”

“I’d be marching with banners and joining PFLAG, which I would have done for you, baby, if you’d told me.”

“Thanks. I’m so glad I have you.”

“Back at’cha.”

“Do you think I worked so much to run away from my attraction to men?”

“I think you worked so much to help your family in outrageously selfless ways—and to run away from your attraction to men. I mean, really, where else could you ogle guys eight hours a day but know you’d likely be killed if you did anything about it?”

“There you go again.”

She laughed. “So when are you going to tell the family?”

“You’re family.”

“Mama?”

“Oh crap, I don’t know. I’m considering a move to Iceland.”

“You already gave her notice, sweetie. Don’t back down.”

“Yeah. I just don’t feel like this is the right time.”

“You know best.”

“Doesn’t seem that way, Yoda.”

He loved her gutsy laugh. “You made it this far. My last bit of Yodaesque advice is don’t sell yourself short. Good men like you don’t come along every day.”

“Thanks. That means a lot.”

“My lips are sealed until you tell me otherwise.”

“I just need to get my shit together a little more before I face the ultimate test.”

“I got it. Love you.”

“Love you back.”

She hung up, and Billy slowly pressed the button on his phone. Did he quit too easily? Was that his problem? No, that wasn’t it. Hell, he stuck with shit forever, like his job and the team. So what was it about him? Why was he twenty-five and just realizing he was gay? Why did he just have a few old sticks of furniture and two cats?

His leaned his head back and rubbed his eyes. Why was he such a—loser?

He swallowed. Again. The spit wouldn’t go down. It felt like some big ball of crap stuck in his throat. He burped, slapped a hand over his mouth, and leaped up from the chair, fur flying in both directions as he sprang. He covered the few feet to the bathroom, knelt down, and stuck his head in the bowl as he barfed. Jesus.

What the fuck was that about?

He heaved one more time, grabbed some toilet paper and wiped his mouth, then sat back against the open door to the bathroom. He never threw up, even when he drank too much. What did he swallow?

Sounds in his head.

You can’t go into honors math, Billy. You just don’t have the brains for that.

Look at this test. My God, you shouldn’t even be in high school when you can’t understand simple instructions.

Boys like you bring down the test scores for the whole school. If we don’t get accredited next year, we know who to blame.

Silly Billy playing with his willy.

Were you staring at me, kid? What are you, some kind of fag? I’ll teach you to look at guys.

As that fist flew toward his face, Billy scrambled forward and dry heaved over the toilet. Enough. Okay. I get it.