Eliot Prince
One morning I wake up to a text that sends chills up my spine: Robert wants to head into town, just us two. I’m ready for a date, an actual date like normal people go on. But still, the prospect of being with him out in public, even during the day, is…exhilarating and scary at the same time.
Another weird thing about all this is that I haven’t heard a word from David since he left, not one word. I’m relieved, but also a little worried. Why hasn’t he checked on me? Where is he? With him, no news has always been bad news. I didn’t trust his reaction when he left – he was too peaceful. So what’s going on with him now?
Before I move forward, I’ve got to unravel this.
“Mom?” I ask as we eat a late breakfast alone in the sunroom, after the first wave of family members is gone.
“Mhmm?”
“What really happened between you and Robert?”
She looks up at me and then puts down her spoon. “Ugh. I knew you would ask this one day. What do you want to know?”
“When did you find out about him?”
She lets out a long sigh. “I mean, I always knew something was off with our relationship.”
“What do you mean?”
“He was perfect on paper – good job, good house, absolutely sexy. All my friends were jealous. But he was just…gone. For the longest time I thought I just didn’t…you know, I didn’t do it for him. Then I found some guy-on-guy stuff in the bathroom.” She throws me a sideways glance. “God, this is too much to share with you, isn’t it?”
“No, no, like you said, I need to know all this. Did you…did you love him?”
“Why do you want to know this? You didn’t…hear anything about me, did you?”
My heart races. “No. I didn’t. Why?”
“Never mind. Ugh, just let me think…”
When she finally answers, she looks torn up inside. “I think I loved him. I was broken when he told me he thought he was gay. But it wasn’t about me. I knew the whole thing was bigger than me. Still, oh, I hated him for a little, as you can remember.”
“Oh, trust me, I remember.”
“God, I was such a child. But anyway…I get it now. When he married me, he was only trying to fit in. He was doing what he’d been told to do his whole life. He just had to figure out on his own that it wasn’t him.”
I just chew on this for a minute.
“You could learn a thing or two from him, you know,” she says soon, wagging her spoon at me. “He’s totally turned his life around since I knew him. He used to be depressed and sleeping till noon and all that. Now he’s rich and happy and all that.”
“I noticed. I’ll pick his brain.”
Then she laughs. “Just don’t end up…”
I stop breathing. “Just don’t end up what?”
She gets this dazed, lost look in her eyes. “Nothing. Your crazy mother was making a joke. See you later, okay?”
“Okay…”
She takes a breath. “Oh, and…one more thing.”
“Yeah?”
“Well, the thing is…I just want to know…you know, regarding…”
I shiver. I get the feeling that this is it – this is when she might finally talk about the big pink elephant in the room. And no, not Robert – my sexuality. The best she’ll ever do is make a sideways acknowledgement of it, then back away again. I have to admit that sometimes, like a little boy, I just want her to pull me in and tell me I am okay with her, that she approves of me, that I am fine in her eyes. She doesn’t disapprove of me, per se, she’s just so…reserved with how she really feels. I don’t care how old people get – at the end of the day, everyone wants to know their parents are proud of them. And I’ve never gotten that from her. She’s never gone there with me.
Her eyes open wider, and for one moment I know she wants to do it – I can see right into her soul.
Or is it something else?
But then she leans back and wraps her arms around her chest. She looks out of the window with a forced sense of ease. “Oh, nothing. Just wanted to tell you I love you. Go have fun, kiddo.”
My shoulders falling, I nod and head for my room.
I meet Robert at noon. He has a Jaguar sedan, full of plush leather and intricate woodwork. When I get in, my heart is pounding and my palms are slick and my mood lifts into the clouds. He holds out a bag for me, making me even more confused.
“What’s this?”
“Open it,” he says, his eyes shining. “Ordered something yesterday. Overnight delivery can come quite in handy.”
“Aw…”
I rip open the paper box and find tissue paper. Underneath is a thick, and expensive-feeling, denim-esque fabric. I unfurl the denim to find a sleek and gorgeous pair of fancy black jeans, with just the right amount of distress and ripping up and down the legs. Something clicks in my mind, and I look over at him.
This is much deeper than a pair of pants. This is what I always wanted, the symbol I had in my head of what I would wear when I one day felt free enough to be myself in public.
A tear threatens to appear in my eye. He has no idea how afraid I was after Oz was attacked in the street for wearing that romper. I would daydream about one day feeling brave enough to walk around as exactly who I was, wearing exactly what I wanted to wear – and now, with Robert’s help, I am feeling closer to that dream than ever. He’s helping me, he really is. I don’t care if the rest of the world disapproves of me. In his eyes I seem perfect, and that makes so much difference.
That’s when I suddenly decide I want to tell him what is bubbling up into my mind: I think I might love you.
But that’s crazy. We just met. Or re-met, at least. And he was married to my mom. I can’t go around saying things like that.
So I hold my tongue.
“This is really special,” I say quietly. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention. It’s all for me, anyway. I’m sure your ass will look amazing in those.”
He smiles again and then starts off for Boone, but I hold out my hand.
“Are you forgetting something?”
“What?” he asks.
“Your hand. On my crotch. I texted you that I’d only agree to come if you held it the whole time.”
“Ahh,” he says in a sexy, breathy voice. God, I want this man inside me. “Like this?” he asks, and I gasp as he reaches down and rests his fingers against my bulge.
“God,” I say. “We look so hot together. Have you noticed?”
“I have. Ginger and jet-black. It’s a nice contrast.”
“Yep. We’re definitely a porno I would watch.”
He laughs. Swept away by his voice, I undo my zipper and yank out my dick. Then I place it inside his hand.
“Now this is more like it.”
“Oh, babe…”
He smirks at me, plants a kiss on my lips, and heads for the gates of the estate. And that’s when I make out the figure of the person standing beside the right gate, holding something. I inhale and lean down, but it’s too late.
Sherry, our groundskeeper of twenty years and the closest confidante my grandmother ever had, is already staring through the window, mouth agape, at Robert’s hand on my exposed penis.