Chapter 8
Gordon
Lying in bed, I turned for what must have been the dozenth time. As much as I tried to sleep, I couldn’t get Beau off my mind. A week had already passed since I’d run into him at the high school. I’d almost had a heart attack when I realized he was Charlie’s French teacher. He had looked even better and so fuckable dressed in professional attire. His clothes had been tailored to suit his physique just fine, and he’d looked good enough for me not to be able to decide whether I wanted him dressed or naked. Dressed had been better in the circumstance. Thank God that parent had shown up when she did, or I might have kissed him. God knew I had been tempted.
Kicking the sheet off me, I gave up on sleep, or maybe sleep had given up on me. I rolled out of bed and moved toward the closet to find something to drag on. I was in the buff which wasn’t exactly appropriate for going to the gay bar, although I was sure some men would have appreciated it. I knew for a fact if Beau were there, he would.
I dragged on a pair of navy blue jeans, without even bothering to pull on underwear. After a T-shirt and a pair of boots later, I grabbed the car keys. I had no idea if Beau would be at the gay bar or not. A week had passed. Even if he had hoped to see me there again, there was little merit to thinking he would be waiting at the bar, every single night, hoping I’d show up.
I finger-combed my hair while looking in the mirror. I could have probably made more of an effort with my appearance. I wanted to make more of an effort, and because of that desire, I didn’t. I refused to go through my closet trying to find a nicer shirt. I didn’t want to meet Beau to pick up where we left off. I just wanted to talk to him a little, to try and explain away the disappointment I’d seen in his eyes the day I walked away from him at the school, without admitting how good it was to see him as well.
After spraying on cologne, I checked the time which was after nine. Upon leaving the house, I popped my head into Ollie’s room after knocking. Whatever he was doing on his laptop, he quickly shut down the lid and turned to me. “Yeah?”
“I’m going out,” I told him. “Remember, you’re grounded which means no leaving the house. Give an eye on your sister.”
“Whatever.”
I shook my head and closed the door instead of reprimanding him. At least he was back in school and hadn’t been in trouble again. Yet. Charlie was in the living room, sitting on the couch with her textbooks on the coffee table. She was more immersed in the television than the book on her lap. I frowned at her.
“Charlie, have you finished your homework?”
She glanced at me. “Yes, I’m all done. You don’t have to ask me that every day, you know.” Even though she complained, I believed she liked that I gave her attention. She had been right about Ollie consuming too much of the attention around here.
I smiled at her. “Get used to it. How’s French class?”
“Great.” She smiled at me. “Mr. Moreau gave us a pop quiz today, and I’m pretty sure I aced it.”
I returned her smile. “Good. I know you have the smarts in the family.”
“No, mom was the smarts.” Her smile faded, and I couldn’t resist. I went over to sit beside her. I enveloped her in my arms, and she clung to me, shuddering. “I know you miss her.”
She nodded. “I keep wanting to know why? Is it something we did?”
I understood because I asked the same question. Barbara couldn’t have killed herself because I told her I wanted a divorce. She already knew of my sexuality because I had told her some years before. I’d given her the option if she wanted us to continue as we were or get out of the marriage. I had secretly prayed for her to want out, but Barbara was determined, and she never liked to admit failure. She had preferred remaining in marriage to a gay man. Since it was the only condition I’d known, I had gone along with her idea to maintain the family for the kids’ sake.
“It’s not us, and I never want you thinking like that,” I told her firmly, putting her away from me so she could see how serious I was. “We may never know what drove her to it, but she always loved both of you, and that will never change.”
“Okay.”
I could feel her shutting down on me again. I rose to my feet with a sigh. “I’ll be going out for a few and will be back as soon as possible. Give an eye on Ollie for me, please. If he tries to do something foolish, try to talk him out of it.”
“Ollie won’t even listen to you. What makes you think he will listen to me?”
I couldn’t dispute her point. “Just try. Don’t stay up too late and ensure you really did all your homework.”
I was almost out the living room when her voice stopped me. “Daddy?”
I immediately turned to her because she only ever called me ‘daddy’ when something was wrong, or she wanted something. She rarely asked for anything these days.
“Yes, Charlie?”
“Are you seeing another woman?”
I was too stunned for words. “What? Why do you think that?”
She shrugged. “Just that you’re going out, and you came in so late about a week ago when you went out.”
I felt guilty and a little alarmed that she was checking up on me. She was not the person I wanted to find out that I was gay, especially not before I told her myself. If one of my kids discovered my secret, it was sure to be her.
“I’m not seeing a new woman,” I assured her, though my mind lingered on Beau and that I wasn’t telling a lie. “Would it bother you though, if I did?”
She frowned. “I don’t know. It would seem kind of disloyal to mom.”
My eyebrows arched. “Honey, eventually I’ll find someone.”
“I know but you know, it’s still too soon. Can you at least wait until Ollie and I are out of the house?”
I couldn’t answer that. While my kids had lived with Barbara and me all their lives, they didn’t know the arguments and the extent of our relationship once the bedroom doors were closed. I’d long since suspected Barbara had taken a lover, but I hadn’t been able to prove it. Once she was discreet about it, I couldn’t have cared any less.
“If I ever have a serious relationship, I’ll tell you. Now, goodnight and as I said, don’t stay up beyond ten.”
Once I was in the truck, I had to take several breaths. I never expected my kids to worry if I were dating and who I was dating. I’d been married so long the thought never crossed my mind how they would feel about the whole situation. They had never seen their mother or me with other people. Yet, I couldn’t spend the rest of my life alone because Charlie thought I was being unfaithful to her mother.
I drove to Bottoms Up, already a bundle of nerves by the time I parked at the pub. I found a dimly lit area of the parking lot, as usual, checking my surroundings before I left the vehicle. It was a habit that probably wouldn’t go away anytime soon. Although, I supposed, should I run into anyone I knew hanging out at the gay club, they would be in like situation as myself.
I burst through the doors of the bar, not sure what I thought I would find. Fool that I was, my disappointment in not seeing Beau meant I had expected him to be here waiting for me. Why would he anyway? I’d run out on him after he gave me such a mind-blowing blowjob that a week after, I was still jerking off to it. The next time I’d run into him, I’d all but acted like we were strangers. Why did I expect him to be waiting for a man who had shown him no regard whatsoever?
I approached the bar and signaled the chatty bartender. He was gabbing with a man who had a motorcycle helmet under one arm. He frowned when he saw me but said something to the motorcycle guy before approaching me.
“What do you want?” he asked, sounding even more hostile than the night Beau had taken me to his apartment.
“A bottle of Bud will do,” I told him, trying to work up the courage to ask him if Beau had been around. I didn’t know how to start that conversation though. Did he even remember us? His shitty behavior said he did, but it could also be because I had interrupted his chat with the man he was hankering to fuck tonight.
“There you go,” he snapped, slamming the beer down onto the counter. “Now drink, pay for your order then get the hell out of here.”
I frowned at him. “Hey man, I’m sure they taught you some customer service at bartender school or whatever.”
He had walked away, but at my words, approached me once more. He placed both hands onto the counter. “He came here every night watching the door,” he said, still glaring at me. “I can tell you, if I had a hot young thing like that waiting around for me, I wouldn’t just be showing up.”
“Excuse me?” I had a feeling I knew what he was talking about, but it was too good to be true. No way Beau had been here waiting for me.
“I said your boyfriend, although I’m really beginning to think he’s not truly your boyfriend,” he rambled off topic before veering back on course. “Anyway, as I was saying. He came here every night for the past several days. He would sit on that stool just like the first night you walked up in here and every time someone walks through the door, he would look up, with hope. Every night he left here, crushed.”
“Shit,” I muttered. Why had I stayed away? “When was the last time he was here?”
“Just last night,” the bartender answered. “I guess he must have gotten tired of waiting for you to show. You’re one night too late.”
My heart sank, and I had the urge to drop by his apartment. I didn’t see that happening though. If only I had a number for him. I took a swig of the beer and made quick work of it before ordering another. I was on the second, contemplating what to do now when someone sidled up to me. I thought it was Beau and turned to regard the man. Instead of Beau, I found myself staring at a man who was in his late twenties. He was a bit on the slender side with black hair and flirty eyes. The way he was flushed, it was obvious he had been dancing upstairs.
“Hey there,” he greeted me. “Want some company?”
“Not really.” I was being polite. I knew for a fact I didn’t want his company.
“Ouch.” He made a face. “I guess you’re waiting on someone.”
“Kinda. Yeah.”
He smiled at me. “There’s no reason we can’t have fun until he gets here.”
I observed the man, seriously checking him out because I wanted to know how I could be attracted to Beau so fast but had no attraction for the man who was standing before me. He was handsome enough. He was well-built enough. What was it about Beau that made me feel thoroughly rung then hanged outside in the sun to dry?
“Sorry, man.”
After I turned him down, he left, although he insisted I should call him if I changed my mind. I watched him move on to flirt with another man, and I sighed. This wasn’t just about me wanting to experience a relationship with a man. It was about Beau and what he and I had shared that night. Our contact had evolved into more than I’d hoped for, but now which I craved.
Beau didn’t show up and needless to say, I was disappointed but, I only had myself to blame. After waiting for three solid hours, I paid the bartender and left him a tip. On a whim, I asked him for a pen.
“What for?” he asked.
“I want to leave my number in case he comes back,” I told him.
He smirked in triumph. “I knew you weren’t his boyfriend.” He looked me up and down. “Not that there’s anything wrong with you. In fact, if he’s no longer interested, I can be.”
I scowled at him. “Stop hitting on me, man and do me a solid. I know you’ve no reason to do me a favor, but I just need this, okay?” No way was I going to explain to him how urgent getting in touch with Beau was.
He passed me a pen and a small notepad. “Write it there along with your name.”
I scribbled the information, and because I was feeling grateful, I handed him a hundred-dollar tip. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”
I left the bar with the intention to drive home but wound up at Beau’s apartment building instead. I sat in the parking lot, just staring at the building and trying to work up the courage to drop in on him. But, what if he had somebody else there?
After spending half an hour in front of the building, driving myself nuts remembering our one night together, I drove away. If only I hadn’t left that morning without letting him know. I had no right to drop in on him unannounced after that. I returned home glum and exhausted.
All I wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep for forty-eight hours. I wanted to forget about work, kids and life. Just to lose myself for a few days and think about me. I was caring for everyone else and trying to keep everyone sane when my seams were slowly unraveling. If I weren’t careful, one of these days, my guts would spill, and it wouldn’t be pretty. Not after the crap I had bottled up inside me all these years.
As usual, I checked on the kids as soon as I got in. Charlie was asleep in her bed this time. Her nightmares were getting better, thank God for that. I stood inside the doorway to her room and watched her sleep. I loved her so much. Her mother’s death had broken her because she had been so close to Barbara. She had been able to speak to her mother about stuff she wouldn’t have otherwise shared with me. Who would she be able confide in now?
Closing her bedroom door, I walked across the hall to Ollie’s room. I opened the door as quietly as I could since I didn’t want to disturb him. He would probably be mad if he discovered me checking up on him. I peered into his bedroom and frowned. The bed covers were peeled back, and he wasn’t in bed. I squinted, checking in the dark room to see if he had fallen asleep at his computer desk. He hadn’t. I flicked on the light and confirmed my suspicion. Ollie went out after I had forbidden it.
I wouldn’t have been able to sleep while one of my children was still not in, but I didn’t want to leave Charlie alone either to search for him. Calling Eric again to help search for Ollie was out of the question. He’d been a big help before but this time, I would handle things. They were my kids, and this was my family.
I tried calling Ollie’s phone several times, but it rang without answer.
To say I was worried was an understatement. He had shoplifted before and there was no telling what he was up to now. I went to the kitchen and made myself coffee. I’d need it to stay awake because I wasn’t going to let him slip back into the house just like that. I took the cup of coffee with me to the living room and turned on the television, lowering the volume so I could barely hear. I wanted to hear every sound that was made in this house.
I must have fallen asleep because I woke up to the sound of something heavy hitting into the front door. I jerked to my feet, a little disoriented. The front door opened, banging into the wall. The sleep was chased away by the unfamiliar sounds and I hurried to the hall to investigate.
“Shit!” I could smell the alcohol on Ollie from a mile away. He was lying half inside the house, his legs still on the other side of the door. “God, Ollie, why are you doing this to yourself?”
He raised his head to look at me, frowning. “I-I’m fiiiine.”
I rushed forward to grab him under the pits and pull him inside the house. I shut the door and dropped to my knees on the floor beside him. “Ollie, are you okay?” I was too concerned to be mad at him. Had he only been drinking or were other things involved? I didn’t want to think about it, but I had to know. I raised his head. “Look at me, son. How much did you have to drink?”
He leaned heavily against me. “I-I don’t knooooow.” His words were badly slurred, and his eyes unfocused. He raised his hands trying to show me but frowned at his fingers. I had seen grown men drunk before and making a fool of themselves, but I failed to see the humor in the present situation. My heart ached to find my son like this.
“Did you have anything besides drinks?” I demanded. “Come on, Ollie. Tell me.”
He shook his head. “Nooo. Jusht theee beers.”
“Thank god.” I hugged him to me tight, some of my fear dissipating. If he was just drunk, a good night’s sleep should cure him. “Thank god.”
He struggled against my chest, frowning. “Why aaaare yoooou…” He trailed off, his eyes going wide. “You not yeeell at me?”
I frowned at him. “Because I’m so damn happy you’re okay.”
“But you should,” he concluded, pushing back. He collapsed against the wall and leaned over to clutch his stomach. “Going to be sick.”
“Let me get you to the bathroom.”
I reached for him again, but he pushed me away. For a drunk guy, his strength caught me off guard. “No. Jusht leave me alone. Leave me aloooone.”
“Ollie!” I snapped at him, but he was barely listening to me. He folded himself up on the floor, pulling his knees into his chest. “Let me help you to bed,” I told him. “I’m not going to leave you lying on the floor.”
He started crying, and I paused not knowing what to do. It began as sniffles then whimpers. Before I knew it, he was rocking on his side, and his knees still clutched tightly to his chest. He was sobbing, his face soaked with. He damn near broke my heart. His dam had finally broken. I’d thought this boy needed to cry for his mother, but I didn’t expect it to hurt so much watching him break down. This seventeen-year-old kid who always acted so tough.
I blinked back the tears. “Son, it’s going to be okay. I promise.”
He shook his head. “Nooo! It’s not. She’s dead. She’s dead. It’s aaall my fault.” He sobbed even harder, the sound turning to wails that punched me in the gut. “It’s my fault she’s gone. I’m sorry.”
I wished I could leave to avoid his crying. Everything inside me hurt, hearing his heart-wrenching wails. I pulled him against me instead. God knew he was no saint, and he had given me a few gray hairs over the past few months, but I loved thIS kid more than life itself. He struggled against me at first, still mumbling nonsense about him being responsible for his mother’s death. Nonsense I pushed away as drunken talk. I refused to let him go but sank to the floor on my ass with him clutched against my chest. My tears flowed silently down my face, getting his hair wet, but I reined in my emotions. This wasn’t about me but him, grieving at last for the mother who had left him too soon.
As the minutes ticked by, his sobs quietened into snores, and he fell asleep in my arms. I buried my face in his hair and finally allowed myself to cry. What the hell more could I do for these kids? Everything I tried failed. I tried not to think ill of my late wife but at times like this, how could I not? She had damaged them then left me behind to pick up the pieces.
“Dad, is he okay?”
I caught the sob in my throat and glanced up to find Charlie at the foot of the stairs. Her face was white, and she had her arms wrapped around her slender body. Jesus, I really needed to keep an eye on her and her eating. She was way too thin. I wondered how long she had been standing there, watching us.
“He’ll be fine,” I told her. “Go back to bed. I’ll bring him upstairs.”
She nodded. “I’ll straighten his bed for you.”
A lump formed in my throat, so the word didn’t come out when I tried to tell her thanks. As she led the way, I lifted Ollie in my arms to put him to bed. All it had taken was Charlie’s offer of help and I knew. I couldn’t give up. I would never give up on my kids. I didn’t care how long it took. I was determined to see us okay once again.