Eliot Prince
Lake Watauga is half an hour from our cabin, and is breathtaking. There isn’t another word. It’s surrounded by some of the highest peaks in the area, and from some angles the water seems to go on forever. We dip our motorboat into the lake and then push out into the open water, a beer already in my hand. I didn’t drive here with Robert, but he got into our boat after an aunt directed him our way. Of course.
I turn to David and try to give him my attention, but my body cannot ignore Robert’s presence. In fact, I get chills when he settles across from us, trying to act as nonchalant as he can. But I know the truth. Somehow, I feel his reaction. And he’s spinning inside, too.
Once our eyes meet, and I feel like when you touch a doorknob on a cold day. Then I look away. This is going to be a long boat ride.
I watch as the little cousins take turns riding the tube behind the boat, laughing and cheering in all the right places. David rides with the middle schoolers, and I’m relieved I don’t have to ride with him. Just feigning interest in him anymore is becoming exhausting, honestly.
But towards the end of the ride, Uncle Ted notices there are two people who haven’t taken a ride – me and Robert.
“Only two haven’t gone! Eliot and Robert, hop on!”
I look over at him in horror. He looks just as confused, but then he nods and gives me a little “be cool” nod – if we act weird, it’ll only make people suspect something. Everyone jeers and insists, so in the end I climb onto the stupid raft as Robert waits behind me. I situate myself and turn around, only to find that his bulge is in my face as he stands on the edge of the boat.
Jesus, is the entire universe conspiring to keep this man’s penis around me?!
“Hi again,” I begin once we’re settled on the raft. He smiles, and my stomach shrinks.
“Hi.”
“I’m kinda surprised you came,” I say, motioning at the three screaming toddlers on the other boat beside ours. “Our family isn’t the easiest to be around.”
“I came the second I heard you would be here,” he says into my ear, and my skin goes numb. “I would’ve dealt with a lot more to be around you, trust me.”
I am struck again by how much I like the weirdest things about him. His ears attract me, his fingernails are glossed and perfect, his legs are strong and thick. I know they’re just legs, but on him they’re…somehow more than legs.
I’m on his right, and we’re both on our stomachs facing forward. Being this close to him – Jesus Christ, my senses have never been more alive. My stomach is boiling, I can’t feel my face. I can’t even really get a deep breath, either, because my heartbeat is too fluttery.
My uncle starts the engine, and because the kids are being fussy, we just stroll around for a while, going so slow it’s quiet enough to hear people talk. Then, with a terrifying clank, the unthinkable happens: the engine stops running.
“Damn it,” Uncle Ted says from the boat, probably twenty yards away. “Just wait, you two. Something’s up. Thank God for that summer I worked as a mechanic…”
Great. So I’m literally stuck on a raft with Robert, floating well away from the boat, totally alone.
To break through the awkwardness, I angle toward Robert a little, trying to act like my whole body isn’t tingling. “So, how have you been these last…what, ten years?”
I see then grey in his hair, and a term flashes in my head again – daddy. Am I really attracted to him, or is this some kind of weird kink?
“Great,” he says. “Been working in banking. I live in Atlanta, in Midtown.”
“Ah, the gayborhood.”
“Indeed. It’s amazing. I couldn’t ask for a more accepting place in the South.”
“Speaking of that…I’m so curious,” I begin. “Go back to when you broke up with my mom. What did your family say?”
He exhales. “Um. Do you really want to go there?”
“I asked. And we have the time…”
He stares down at the water. “It was…the worst time of my life, for a second. A lot of people were totally supportive, but a lot of people stepped away immediately, too. My dad slammed down the phone and said I was making the biggest mistake of my life. He never looked me in the eye again – not once. He died recently. I didn’t go to the funeral.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah. Some people thought I tricked her or something, when in reality, I had no idea what was going on inside my own head when we met. I just knew I was panicking about my sexuality every day of my life, but I assumed it would go away. It never did. That was scarier to me than anything, actually – dealing with the aftermath of leaving her. I loved her, and the idea of hurting her…it made me want to just kill myself sometimes, to give her a happier ending, a clearer story. I thought she would go through life forever as the sad lady who married a gay guy.”
“Robert,” I say. “She never looked at it like that. Ever.”
“I know that now. I didn’t know it then. People in the closet have a tendency to see the worst-case scenario, across the board.”
“God, I know that. I was so afraid, but my life is better than I ever imagined. Even though I’m still figuring things out by the day.”
“You’ll be fine,” he says. “Being in the closet is about hiding your light. Coming out of the closet is about deciding what to do with all of that new light. Just shine for people. It’s only been, what, a few years? You seem like you’re doing great.”
“Yeah. I guess. Just the fact that I’m here, around my family, with a male date – I never expected that in a million years.”
“And they’re all cool with it?” he asks.
“Well, Aunt Marjorie said I was promoting the gay agenda, but…she’s Aunt Marjorie, so who cares?”
“Exactly,” he laughs. “The old ‘gay agenda’ line. Sheesh, talk about trading places…if only she could’ve died instead, and left Sara…”
I laugh back at him. It makes me feel warm inside that we have so much shared history, that we know so many of the same loved ones.
Then I remind myself that all of this is because he was my stepfather for two years.
“Say,” he continues. “When you came out, why didn’t you think of me? Why didn’t you contact me? I could’ve helped, you know.”
“Honestly…it just wasn’t about you. And we’ve all just kind of learned to stay far away from my mom’s life, and the players in it. Things change quickly. So it was never about you, I just…I guess I block all her stuff out, just to protect myself.”
“Ah. Makes sense.”
We listen to the lapping waves.
“What are you really thinking?” he asks soon. I swallow my lip.
“About…how alone I’ve felt lately.”
“Huh? You brought someone with you.”
“I know. I feel alone when I’m with him, too.”
He looks confused. “Well…I’m sorry to hear that. Why are you thinking about that now, though?”
“Because I like being around you. Right now, I feel like…myself. Or closer to it, at least.”
I see him shiver.
“Do you feel the same?” I ask, and finally he looks at me.
“Yes. You’re in my head, Eliot. Already. Regardless of everything else…”
I melt for him, right there. He is perfect. He makes me feel horny, but…emotionally horny. The kind of horny where I just want to smile at his face and tell him things I would never tell anyone else.
But soon I look away. “But…”
“But what?”
“At the end of the day, the fact is still there: this isn’t fair to my mom.”
“No comment on that one,” he laughs sharply, looking away.
“What does that mean?”
“Eliot, you know I love your mom in a way, but…she’s not exactly a saint.”
“What?”
“Actually, she wasn’t even a great mom to you, as much as I hate to say it. All anyone ever does for her, still, to this day, is make excuses for her behavior and cover up for her. I can’t count how many times Sara would come over to apologize for her and clean up her messes. At a certain point it becomes a certain kind of…well, enablement.”
“Robert. That’s crazy. I don’t make excuses for her.”
“Then why did you choose to live with your dad?”
I stutter. I still don’t know how to talk about that. She never forgave me for choosing him, and it’s still an awkward point of contention in our relationship. “Hey, that’s – that’s complicated. My mom is – you know, moody, and her life wasn’t very stable, so…”
He raises a hand to me. “Eliot. You don’t have to explain everything to me. I’m not anti-anyone. But you’ve fathered your own mother for long enough. Stop babying her and think about yourself for a minute.”
“Myself?”
“I mean, sure. After all she’s put you through, you deserve it. If your main motivation here is sparing your mom’s feelings at the expense of your own…well, honestly speaking, she never gave you that same respect in return.”
That’s when the boat finally speeds up – and at just the right time, too.
I exhale and lean back as the water sprays my face. The trees and hills rush by, and I smile over at Robert, whose tanned shoulders are shining in the sunlight. Within seconds I am calm again, totally calm. If I could freeze this moment, if I could just stop us right now, I would. This moment feels worthy of remembering.
The boat turns. Uncle Ted is going too fast, though, and I yelp as the tube tips further and further until finally flipping over, tumbling us out into the water face-first. I’m plunged deep into the inky water, and as I rise again I hit Robert’s knees. I’m trying not to laugh when I surface and realize we’ve both come up together, under the overturned tube, completely hidden from the world.
“What are the odds?” I laugh, looking around in the darkness.
“Shh,” he says, putting a finger against my lips.
“Oh. Why?”
“Because I want to do something I’ve wanted to do all morning.”
He leans in and plants a kiss on my closed lips. I don’t even open my mouth, but it is the single most erotic thing anyone has ever done to me. If the boat full of people probably twenty feet away knew about what we were doing…
Regardless of how technically right or wrong it is, I know it’s still shocking. Perhaps that’s why I can’t get enough of it. But is it deeper than the shock value? It definitely feels deeper. Fathoms deep, actually.
But how does he view me? And why do I give a damn?
“Let me do something, too,” I say, taken away by the moment. Then, underwater, I rub my hand up against his cock. And shit – it really is thick. This thing is like a loaf of bread. Lord help whatever guy has to take this thing regularly…how they’d walk correctly every day, I have no idea…
“Eliot,” he says, his breath wet and hot against my face.
“Yes?”
“I can’t stay away from you. Do you feel the same?”
“I feel…I feel…”
Just then I hear everyone start to call for us. Oh, God, they probably think we’re dead. So before I head underwater to resurface and tell them I’m fine, I grab at his dick one last time and smile.
“Talk to me,” he says. “Tell me. Are you going to stay away, or no?”
Instead of answering, I duck underwater. But as I start swimming back for the boat, it settles into my chest with a terrifying sureness:
I won’t be able to stay away from Robert Glazer any more than the windblown waves can stay away from the pebbled lakeshore.