Eliot Prince
I wake up after 11 AM and just stare up at the ceiling. So it’s our last real day here. The little service for Sara is tomorrow morning, and then people are going to start packing up and leaving. Whatever’s going to happen, whatever this is, we’ve got to figure out the deal today.
Suddenly I get a flashback to coming out to my mom in college. It’s so vivid I can still smell her perfume from that day – Estee Lauder, I think. I was going out of my mind, my spirit wasn’t breathing, and I had to tell someone. My mom was visiting my apartment, and she walked into my (weirdly gigantic) closet and made some passing joke that my things were so organized, she didn’t know if I was straight or not. I knew she meant no harm, but I snapped inside, and something propelled me to blurt out the following words:
“MomIthinkI’mgay.”
She turned and looked at me, and I’ll never forget the look on her face – she wasn’t mad, she wasn’t sad, she just looked…lost in thought, I guess. Confounded.
“You are?” she asked, and I dropped my shoulders and sighed.
“Yes…I am. I think I am. Or…yeah. I know I am.”
That’s when a tear came to her eye.
“No, Mom,” I said, wrapping her in an awkward hug. “I don’t want that. I don’t fear or sadness or anything. I just want…”
“Oh, it’s none of those things,” she said quickly, shaking her head and pulling away. And then she left the room.
I got the feeling she was overwhelmed and would return eventually, but when she came out of the bathroom half an hour later, she started talking about dinner. We never really talked about the situation again – ever. She’d mention David in passing, obviously, but we never got in deep. After I came out, the subject was simply dropped – for good.
Suddenly my phone pings. It’s a comment on a post I’d totally forgotten about – the one pleading for help regarding the whole Robert situation.
I lay back, smile, and start reading:
Yo, I’m Amanda and I’ve got a story for you. I fell in love with a girl who – I found out later – was my ex fiancé’s ex-girlfriend. Yep, the chick I fell in love with, was my ex’s ex. That’s a real bitch move, right? I mean, I was dating the ex of someone I used to date. What kind of demon does that?
So after we realized that little connection, we tried to break up, but I was MISERABLE. Two weeks into things, I realized what I knew all along: it was real love, and nothing the world said could change that. So we said “fuck you” to everyone’s perceptions, and got engaged. We even see our shared ex sometimes. It’s always a little awkward, but I know that deep down she’s happy for us – she even told me that. Sure, people will be freaked, and maybe your mom will hit the roof. But if you turn away from someone you really love in your bones, you’re gonna be miserable without them, anyway. I say go for it. Fuckin’ go for it, bro, and never look back. Not to be a bitch, but you might not find this again. So grab it while you can.
That’s when I take a breath and decide it: I need to talk to my mom about this. I’m not going to tell her, per se, but…I need to feel things out. If I ever get with him at all, she’s going to have to know. I can’t just spring this on her. Before I leave, I’ve got to get some sense of how she would deal with this – good, or bad. Probably bad, but still, my mom is a good person at heart, underneath the eruptions and the instability. I can’t blindside her.
After I throw on some shorts and a tank top, I go looking for her. I stop outside her door, but it’s locked.
“Oh, don’t go there right now,” my Aunt Susan says, but she won’t meet my eye.
“What? Why?”
“She’s…not great right now.”
Susan still won’t look at me. That’s when I realize she’s keeping something from me – she doesn’t want me to know about the divorce. “Oh,” I say. “What do you mean, though?”
“Oh, um, she’s been crying all day. I think the death is finally hitting her, poor thing,” Susan says, totally unconvincingly. “Anyway, just leave it alone. I heard her rattling around in her pill bottles. She probably took a Xanax and passed out. She’ll be fine, I’m sure. You should go have fun while you can.”
She smiles and then heads down the hall as quickly as she can. I knock one more time, but I know Susan is right. When my mom gets like this, she takes one of her pills and knocks herself out for the rest of the night. She’ll wake up in the morning, totally fine, but until then she will be unreachable.
“Okay, Mom, I’ll see you in the morning,” I say. “Let me know if you need anything. Bye.”
I take a few laps around the lake after that, breathing in the smell of the sharp pine and the minerally soil. Everyone I love in the world is at this house right now, and I can’t believe I’m about to leave. And what awaits Robert and me? How will we possibly keep this going? And does he really want to keep it going?
After the run I undress in my room and glance at myself in my mirror. I look better than I ever have before. My skin is firm and golden. I look happy and unbothered. I’ve lost a few pounds of fat, and my (small) muscles are popping. Is this what someone looks like when they fall in love? Like themselves, but the best possible version?
Robert catches me in the empty hallway after that, and I lose all the feeling in my face. He’s always doing that, making me forget about certain extremities.
“Meet me in the driveway in thirty,” he says before smiling and walking up the stairs. I figure we’re going walking or boating or water-falling or whatever, so I wear shorts and a Polo. But when I meet him, it seems he has a more specific plan in mind. He’s in a suit, and his skin is darker than ever. His golden color against his blue coat and his starched white undershirt is…
God. All I know is, I’m about to make some very slutty decisions tonight.
“I want to take you driving,” he says.
“But-”
“I didn’t ask.”
We hop into his Jaguar, and he sets off down the road. His semi-hard cock in his pants is obvious, and our energy is already filling the cabin. But something else is also obvious – the photo hanging from his rearview mirror, of an attractive guy in his fifties or sixties, with the dates of his birth and death.
“Lung cancer,” he says as he drives confidently, after he sees me staring. “And he didn’t even smoke. Never a cigarette in his life. Doctors were stumped, but c’est la vie, right? Anyway, he descended for eight months. It was a Tuesday when I watched him die. Well, from outside the room, anyway. He didn’t accept me. My own dad wouldn’t let me into the hospital at the end – strange, huh?”
“I…don’t know what to say,” I force out soon. “I’m really sorry.”
“It’s fine. Listen to me, being such a sob sister. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t say sorry. You can’t help any of that. You didn’t ask for it. Don’t ever apologize for what you can’t change.”
I feel his eyes on me.
“You’re alright, you know that?” he asks as he reaches over and rests his large hand on my thigh. “You’re not bad at all.”
“I feel the same.”
“It’s a good life, Eliot,” he says, smirking at me, and then I get that jolt again, where I’d do anything to sit on his cock – and find a way into his heart, too. “It’s a good life.”
And then he stops the car, and I realize he only drove us to the end of our miles-long driveway and then turned around. We’re stopped at the edge of the drive, at a path that leads down to the dock house.
“What’s this?”
“Just come with me.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to dance with you in the moonlight. And I also want to get away from the house…”
“Why?”
He gets a little shifty.
“What aren’t you telling me?” I ask him.
“Okay,” he finally says. “While we’re on this subject – what did we ever do on the beach that was bad? Before anything else, I need to know that.”
I raise an eyebrow. “In what sense? The beach? What do you mean?”
“Um, I just…well, I was just wondering...”
“That question doesn’t make sense. Tell me why.”
He takes a quick breath. “Eliot. No big reason. I was just making sure we’re covering our tracks. Do you think it was the Speedo day? Maybe something else...?”
“I don’t know. I really have no idea. Could’ve been many things.”
“Okay…god, this thing is a little complicated.” He takes a deep breath and looks over at me. “But at the same time, there’s nothing I’d rather be doing. I’m really glad I met you, Eliot.”
“As am I…”
As I melt, I follow him out of the car and down the path. The grass is dewy, and the three-quarter moon is bathing the trees in soft silver. The dock house looks dark and empty, and once on the second-floor deck, he sets his phone in a Solo cup – which creates an instant mini-speaker – and sets it to Speak Now, my favorite guilty-pleasure Taylor Swift album.
“You remembered,” I say.
“She’s no James Taylor, but she’ll do.”
He takes my hand, then wraps his arm around my waist. Our bodies situate so naturally around each other’s, and we just pace as Taylor sings about her dress being on someone’s floor. The wind rustles the trees, and the mountains envelop the lake like they’re hugging it. I couldn’t have asked for a better last night before the funeral. I almost want to cry. We might never experience anything like this again. This might be our very last night…
A quiet minute passes. I inhale.
“The first time you saw me, when we first got here,” I say. “Tell me. What’d you think?”
“That I wanted to suck your dick, to be totally honest,” he answers. “And then submit myself to a mental health center for testing.”
“I know what you mean,” I breathe.
“And what’d you think?”
“The exact same thing. The exact same thing.”
We both laugh.
“What are you thinking about now?” I ask.
“The future.”
“Okay?”
“Well, you know, I’m sure you’re getting a share of this house when it’s sold, and real estate in this area has exploded lately...”
I take a breath. “And?”
“And I’m not ready for this to end yet. Just – just imagine us together. Imagine what we could be, if we let ourselves. I’ve been thinking…”
“Thinking? Wh – what do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. Consider it, Eliot. Consider me. You could move to Atlanta, at least for a summer. I’ve got a huge apartment that looks down on the park. There’s a perfect little brunch spot on the first floor of my building, with waffles that’ll knock your face off. We could sleep in every day, make love, drink coffee, go shopping at Lenox Mall, drink good wine at night. I have the money. Just hang with me for a while. Let’s get to know each other, maybe?”
“Robert…I want to explore that very badly. Very, very badly. But…imagine an old friend sees us out on a date. One who knows I’m your…who knows about my mom. What do you think will go through their head?”
“Are you really there? Already? Haven’t you ever taken a risk in your life?”
“Robert, obviously I want you. I’m not saying I don’t. I’m just worried about how this will translate into the real world. Real life. This place is paradise. It isn’t real. We have to go out there, and…and…”
“And love each other? What’s so complicated about that?”
At the core of it, nothing is complicated.
“Ugh, why do you have to be so sensible?” I ask. “Can’t you just let me be crazy for a second?”
I pull him into me and just breathe into his hair, letting his spirit fill me with light. In the soft moonlight, he looks a good decade younger than he did last night in the restaurant. I feel a twinge of affection deep in my chest. What if I woke up to this every morning? Would I want that? Would I be content with that?
Obviously. But would I be able to live with the wreckage we would possibly leave behind?
“When you cut me off,” I say in a lower voice, “I thought you were gone for good.”
“That would never happen.”
“How did you stay away?”
“I was never away. All I thought about was you. You’re with me, even when you’re not with me.”
“God, this is crazy,” I say.
“I know it is. That’s why I trust it. I don’t care who you are, or what your position is. I care for you very much.”
“We’re going to need to talk about something,” I say, very carefully. “I’m never going to put it out of my head if we don’t.”
“Yes?”
I swallow hard. “What do you remember of me? Like, back then…”
He cringes. “Not much, and I’m being totally honest.”
“Why?”
“Imagine how you were the year before you came out.”
“A mess,” I say.
“Exactly. Not to be rude, but…you weren’t on my radar. I was just trying to manage an impossible situation. So meeting you here was like meeting someone for the first time.”
“Okay. Good.”
He laughs.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Actually, I do remember something about you – you had a Kelly Clarkson poster in the room you kept. I remember you said it was because you thought she was ‘so hot,’ but you weren’t really fooling anyone…”
I can’t help but turn red. “Ah, yes, the classic move of a gay teen – worship a female pop star, but pretend it’s all out of lust.”
“Don’t worry, I didn’t explain to your mom.”
“God,” I say, sighing. “What…what was it like being married to her, anyway? Can I ask that?”
“Sure. Um. It was…a handful, but overall, a pleasure. She can be very emotionally…”
“Needy, you can say it.”
“Yes, but I require a great deal of affection, too. I didn’t mind that. Really, she was exactly what I needed at that moment in time – she was just a woman. But she served as a distraction, a life boat, when I needed it the most. I’ll never forget what she told me the day I moved out.”
“What was that?”
“That I would always have a home with her, and if I ever fell on my face, I could come back for help and a hug. And then she kicked my car as I drove away, and called me a heartless narcissist.”
“Sounds like Mary Kate Prince,” I laugh.
“Yep. God. Besides Rick, we probably know her better than any two living people on the planet.”
“That’s the last thing,” I say. “If we…if I…Robert, if we break my mom’s heart, I will never get over it. What do you, deep down, think she would say?”
“I…I think you’d be fine, because she would blame me.”
“You don’t know her that well, then. She knows who I am, and how I am. I’ve never done anything I didn’t want to do, ten thousand percent. She’ll blame both of us.”
“Or maybe she doesn’t have to know?”
“Huh?”
“Say…you decide to move to Atlanta. Say you tell her you’re crashing with friends, but you’re really crashing in my bed. Say we get away with it. It can happen. I just know I can’t lose you.”
“I already know I don’t want to lose you, either. We just have to present this to my mom in a way that will let her down easy, and also prevent her from killing us both.” I take a breath. “Let’s look at it from her eyes. Do you think she loves you?”
He shifts a little. “No, and I mean that. I think she loves Rick.”
“Do you think she would be…jealous?”
“No! Not in a romantic sense. I know she would be weirded out, though. She will just have to…I don’t know, somehow learn to get over it.”
“Do you think she ever will?”
“I don’t know,” he says soon. “But I want to see. I can’t turn back now. You are one of the greatest things I have found, Eliot. I’ll look back on this trip as one of the best times I ever had in my life. No matter what, thank you.”
I swallow and try to find the words. “I…I feel the same way. I honestly feel the same way. That boat ride, the passion between us, our talks in the woods…I never expected this. You fell out of the sky, but it’s also like you were here all along.”
He laughs at nothing.
“What could possibly be funny, you freak?” I ask.
“Oh, it’s just…technically I didn’t fall from nowhere. I fell out of a marriage with your mother. And now I’m here.”
I jab him in the ribs. “You’re never going to stop with those jokes, are you?”
“No. I have to laugh at it. God knows everyone else will.”
I lean against his side. “I am glad you came here, Robert Glazer.”
“I am glad I did, too, Halvard Eliot Prince.”
“Don’t ever say that name again.”
“You got it.”
I lay against him, and I feel that his dick is hard.
“Fuck,” he moans. “Touching you, being around you, just does this. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.”
“And the fact that you’re so hot…it turns me on.”
“I was just thinking about that,” I tell him. “I feel the same thing.”
He creeps his hand down my chest, towards my cock, which is quickly hardening. “I mean, I would even be turned on by us, if I saw us somewhere. We look good together. Very good. The fact that I’m lucky enough to get to be the one who pleases you, I mean, it’s too much…”
Within seconds my cock is down his throat. It happens that quickly, and it feels so natural. He really does enjoy my body, and you can tell – his every move and noise is full of enthusiasm.
He takes me deeper. The last week flashes in my eyes, and I feel so grateful. I’ve never felt so close to someone, mentally and physically and everything else. I could do this every day with him and never get sick of it. And that’s when my body starts to go numb and I realize I’m going to blow soon, for the first time in my life – I’ve never had an orgasm from a blow job before. But he is sloppy and wet and good, and I can’t take any more.
“Robert,” I sigh as he sucks me, caressing his dark hair. “Robert…”
“Mhmm?” he breathes as he takes me again. I clutch his head and lean back as the orgasm comes.
“Robert…Robert…Robert…” I groan as the waves hit me. And then I’m squirting into his mouth, and as the orgasm really hits, I accidentally say something that takes all the air out of my lungs: “RobertIloveyou.”