“FOR SHAME, FOR SHAME,” REGGIE teased. He just happened to be coming down the staircase when I sauntered through the front door Saturday afternoon. Reggie took one look at my borrowed sweats and T-shirt and knew I hadn’t just returned from running errands. I never left the house wearing anything so casual unless it was to work out at the gym or yoga studio. Besides Henry, Reggie was our newest member of the household, but it didn’t take living here long to know weekends were my leisure time. I took my rest, relax, and recharging very seriously.
“Is this what the face of shame looks like to you, Reg?” I asked, pointing to my Cheshire grin. Before he could answer me, I walked the hallway like it was my personal catwalk and I was the Queen of Queers. Oh, yes, baby. Sometimes diva wasn’t a big enough label to describe the way a person felt inside.
“Work it,” Reggie called after me.
I reached my bedroom door, executed a sassy turn, and placed a hand on my cocked hip. “Baby, I own it.” Reggie’s laughter echoed down the hallway as I shut the door, sealing myself inside my personal haven.
Outwardly, I often chose to wear bold colors or patterns, and I liked to create new dramatic looks with makeup. Inside my room, I needed a space that was a peaceful oasis. I chose warm earth tones for my furnishings but added pops of warm colors like jade, amethyst, and teal in accent pieces like my bedside lamps and the throw pillows on the chaise in the corner and on top of my chocolate brown comforter. It was when I looked at my perfectly made bed with tidy pillows that it sank in I had spent the night away from home. The world didn’t end, the house didn’t burn to the ground, and as I told Reggie, I didn’t feel an ounce of shame for staying the night at Ollie’s house. Maybe it had more to do with the person who slept across the bed from me, and his sultry, warm eyes which invited me to scoot closer and stay longer. Eyes the same warm, chocolate brown as my comforter.
I looked around my space and wondered what Ollie would think about it. Would he find it a warm and inviting space as I did, or would he think the crystals hanging from the lampshade and my gilded, glamorous vanity was too much? Would he be turned off by the drawers inside the chestnut wardrobe that held lacy panties, bras, garters, and stockings? Would he want me only to wear those things for him in private as the others had, or would he like knowing I was wearing something lacy and delicate beneath my clothes? Ollie said he liked me just the way I was, but what if I showed up at his church and the strap of a bra or negligée peeped out from beneath my dress shirt? It was one thing to say you were okay with it, but another to embrace it publicly.
The mere thought of Ollie pulling away from me dimmed the joy I felt from waking up in his bed. Ollie’s eyes looked at me with adoration, and I couldn’t bear the thought he might look upon me with shame, disappointment, or disgust. I could handle that kind of rejection from the others before Ollie but not him. He was supposed to be different, someone I could trust. It was better to cut this off before—I wouldn’t allow myself to finish the thought. There was no way I was going to sabotage things with Ollie before they even really started. I’d tried pushing him away and made myself miserable in the process. I was determined to take a chance with him and let myself hope Ollie was as real as he said he was.
My cell phone rang in the pocket of the borrowed sweats. I’d hoped it was Ollie and groaned a little when I saw it was my mom. I knew she wanted to pump me for information about what happened after she left, but I wasn’t ready to talk about the special moments I’d shared with Ollie. How did a thirty-five-year-old man explain dry humping Ollie felt better than the penetrative sex I’ve had the past few years? Wait. Why would this thirty-five-year-old man think he needed to be that explicit during a conversation with his mom?
“Hello, Mamma,” I said into the phone.
“I want him, Archie.”
“Who?” I asked, playing dumb.
“Ollie. Who else, knucklehead?”
“Mamma,” I said slowly and softly, “I don’t know how to break this to you. Maybe it’s best if I just rip the Band-Aid off.” I paused for dramatic effect. “Mamma, Ollie isn’t into you. Please don’t take it personally.”
“Don’t be a smart-ass, Archie,” Mamma said, unable to keep the humor out of her voice. “I thought you were going to tell me you ran him off already.”
“Mamma, I don’t run guys off. They run on their own.”
“Now you have a guy who wants to stay, and you’re wanting to push him away before he can change his mind and hurt you like all the others did.” She wasn’t wrong. Hadn’t I just battled my instinct to push him away? “None of them were worthy of you. Quite frankly, it was pretty silly of them to expect you to leave your alter ego in the dressing rooms of Queen City Divas when you finished performing. Lady Bea Trix wasn’t an act, Bea is part of who you are. Ollie won’t be turned off by your alter ego nor will he be embarrassed by it.”
“How do you know?”
Mamma let out a long-suffering sigh like she was preparing herself to address the village idiot once more. “I have eyes in my head, Archie. I was in the same room with you guys last night, not that either of you remembered you were standing up in front of a room full of senior citizens.”
“Senior citizens and you,” I countered.
“Sweetheart, I am technically a senior citizen. I have an AARP card to prove it. Don’t try to distract me with sarcasm or sweetness. I’m on a roll this morning.”
“You don’t want me to interrupt you because you’ll forget what you were going to say.”
“This is also true,” Mamma agreed. “Listen, I saw the way his eyes lit up when he saw you, and I saw the way you reacted to him.”
“How was that?”
“Baby, he has a magnetic force field pulling you toward him. I think you were aware you crossed the room to speak to him the first time but not the second. You saw he was stumbling and went to him like it was second nature, and the two of you together are…” Her words faded, and I pictured her fanning her face with her hand. “Gorgeous. Sexy. Right.”
“Mom, we’ve all seen what happens when the moth gets too close to the flame.”
“You’re no moth, so stop insulting yourself. My son is a beautiful, majestic butterfly and Ollie is an exquisite flower where you can safely land. I know you’ve dated some real losers in the past, but Ollie isn’t one of them. Please tell me you can at least see that much.”
“For a minute, I worried you were going to ask if I’ve been sipping Ollie’s nectar.”
“Please,” she said, using the same voice one uses to say duh, “that’s a foregone conclusion. If it hasn’t happened already, then it will soon.”
I thought of how badly I wanted truly to make him mine when I rolled him beneath me in the center of his bed, but we had things to prove to one another which didn’t involve sex. So, we settled for more making out and more rutting, only naked the second time around. My sticky release mixed with Ollie’s when we finally came. I could’ve lingered in his little house for the rest of the day, but he had things to do before the big gala event at Queen City Divas. Ollie didn’t subscribe to lazy Saturdays like I did. Yet.
I borrowed his kitchen to prepare a nice breakfast while he worked in his small office upstairs. Afterward, we kissed and made out in his oversized recliner some more, neither of us wanting to part ways.
“Earth to Archie,” my mom said in a singsong voice. “Are you still there?”
“I’m here,” I said. “I, um—just checked out for a minute.”
“I bet you did.”
“Mamma,” I said in a warning tone. “Look, I’m not going to deny I’m attracted to Ollie or that I want him to be different than the others. I’m just saying it’s going to take time, and I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”
“Let me worry about me, Arch. Anyway, while you were daydreaming about Ollie, I asked you if you’d like to go with us to attend his church in the morning.”
“Us? Who is us?”
“Esther, me, and the newest resident at Ryan’s Place. I think Esther said his name is Harry.”
“His name is Henry.” I sat on the edge of my bed and stared at the water color painting of Grace Kelly on the opposite wall. “I’m not surprised he wants to attend Ollie’s church. They had an instant connection after I introduced them. Henry needs someone like Ollie in his life after the way his mother and church treated him.”
“Henry is also very lucky to have you, my love. I am so proud of you.”
This was a point of contention between us. I didn’t like her making a fuss about me doing something anyone with compassion and resources should do. Mamma liked to remind me should and would aren’t the same thing, which I knew, of course. Instead of my usual deflection, I said, “Thank you, Mamma.”
“That’s more like it,” she said approvingly. “So, back to my question. Would you like to go to church with us tomorrow morning?”
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gone to church, well, mass since my mom was raised as a Catholic. She left the church when she was treated like a scarlet woman after leaving her abusive husband, my sperm donor. Apparently, a woman fleeing for her life was somehow more shocking and sinful than her husband beating her. She probably had it coming, right? Hypocritical assholes. I couldn’t say all priests acted as cruelly as hers did when she sought help from him, but it was hard to rinse the bitter taste out of my mouth anytime religion was brought up. I thought my mom felt the same way, but I could hear the excitement in her voice. Had she missed attending services all this time, and I didn’t know it? Or was she excited to see one of Ollie’s sermons.
“Mamma, if this is part of a matchmaking scheme—”
“It’s not,” she said abruptly. “I’m going regardless of if you join me.”
“Can I think about it and let you know in the morning?”
“Absolutely,” she said. “I’ll be there at nine to pick up Henry, and you can join us if you wish. Have fun tonight at Queen City Divas.”
“I will.”
“Will Ollie be there too?”
“He will,” I told her. “We’ve got a special gala going on, and Milo is performing.”
“How is Milo?” Mamma asked.
“In love.”
“Maybe it’s in the air.”
I snorted. “I don’t think love is contagious.”
“No, but seeing others find happy, healthy relationships gives us hope and opens our eyes to opportunities.”
Us. It reminded me that my mom had never experienced the epic love she hoped I’d find. She thought she was too old to find her happily ever after, but I didn’t think so. My mom was vibrant, beautiful, and warm. She knew how to make people feel welcomed and loved. It reminded me of the way Ollie reacted to her kindness when they met, and the thought led me to images of a young, homeless Ollie doing whatever it took to get by. My heart squeezed painfully in my chest, and I struggled to reconcile that image of Ollie with the smiling, healthy, and happy adult version of him.
“That’s right,” I said to my mom. “There’s hope for both of us.”
This was where she normally argued with me just like I did when she made a fuss over my running Ryan’s Place. Instead, she said, “Thank you, Archie.”
“That’s more like it,” I said, repeating her words to me.
“I’m sure you have many things to do before you get ready for the show tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow morning even if you don’t come with us. I love you, Son.”
“I love you too, Mamma.”
After we disconnected, I sprawled in the center of my bed and watched Rear Window, admiring Grace Kelly’s beauty and gracefulness. It was one of my favorite movies, and I knew every word by heart. Those black-and-white movies felt like old friends, and I often turned to them for comfort when I was stressed or my mind felt chaotic. I wouldn’t say being with Ollie was stressful, but my brain was busy trying to process all the things I learned about him and how it made me want to know more. It was safer to get lost in my favorite movie than allow my brain to spin and possibly create issues where there were none.
It was while watching my favorite actress that I got the idea to dust off Lady Bea Trix’s wardrobe and have a little fun. I stopped performing drag when Ryan fell ill, and afterward, creating a legacy from the home he left to me became my focus. There were times I missed transforming into a sexy, sultry queen who wore satin and lace. Milo had been after me to at least dress as Bea when I emceed the charity events each week, but I was hesitant to do it. I felt like I’d lost the connection to Bea and worried it would be too hard to get her back. I’d never know unless I tried. And, if it also tested Ollie’s commitment to liking all the sides of me, it was a bonus.
“Check you out,” Milo said when he arrived at QCD to get ready for the night. I was already dressed in an off-the-shoulder, full-length pink satin dress with a slit up to mid-thigh and touching up my lipstick when he walked into the shared dressing room with a garment bag folded over his arm. “What’s the special occasion? I’ve asked you to invite Bea to the party since you returned to emcee the weekly events, but you’ve declined each time.”
I shrugged casually, but even I could see how tight my expression was. “I just thought it was time.” I was bracing myself for Ollie’s rejection with every layer of lace, satin, and makeup I put on.
“Time to test Ollie?”
“No.” I’d be damned if I admitted it to anyone. I clasped a string of pearls around my neck then started putting on the snug, satin gloves that would end at mid-bicep.
“Uh-huh,” Milo said, not buying it. “I don’t blame you for being cautious with your heart, but I’m warning you now I’m looking forward to saying ‘I told you so.’”
“You’re starting to sound like Mamma.”
“Maria is a wise woman, so I’ll take it as a compliment.”
“Lady Bea, the show starts in five minutes,” Tony, the stage manager, yelled through the closed door. “Are you ready?”
“Be right there, Tony.” Then I focused on Milo once more and found him smiling indulgently at me, and I had to fight the urge to roll my eyes. “Break a nail, Peach,” I said to him before leaving the room.
I channeled my inner Hollywood starlet and put an extra sway into my hips when I walked onto the stage. “Hello, boys,” I said in a breathy voice. “Miss me?” Whistles, catcalls, and howling abounded as I made my way toward the front of the stage, but I only cared about one man’s reaction. I knew exactly where I’d find him too—sitting front and center. The spotlight followed me as I sassily walked, hips rocking from side to side. The dress, clothes, and wig made me feel powerful and sexy. When I reached the end of the stage, I stuck my left leg out, showcasing the white stockings ending at mid-thigh. More whistles and catcalls, but those weren’t what made me shimmy my shoulders in delight; it was the desire and adoration rolling off Ollie as his eyes raked over me from head to toe. No, seeing me in drag for the first time didn’t disgust him one bit.
I introduced the first act, Lady Vava Voom, then went backstage to watch the performance and wait to introduce the next act. The air around me felt charged suddenly, and I could almost hear the crackle of electricity. My hair stood up all over my body, and my skin tingled like it did when Ollie touched me. I turned and found him standing directly behind me. He wore a dark, feverish look in his eyes which promised he wanted to do delicious things to my body.
“Golden Boy, please don’t give me an erection while my dick is tucked and taped. It’s the most unpleasant experience.”
Ollie’s lips turned up in a crooked smile. “I just need to know one thing for now then I can go back out there and behave for the rest of the night.”
“What’s that?”
Ollie cupped the back of my neck and kissed me. He only let his lips linger for a few seconds before he pulled back and licked his lips. “Mmmm. Cherry.”