Chapter 20 – Chapter 20

Baseball season was about to start, and we needed to deal with the Rob problem. I couldn't take advantage of my Christmas gift without Rob knowing I was going to Mizzou's home baseball games. And, I couldn't come up with a plausible explanation for why I was going to be there, much less why I was going to be there but unwilling to travel to and fro with him.

Trick laughed at my diffidence. "Tell him you're fucking me," he said.

"You have to be out of your mind."

"I'm not. I'm ready to tell them. We're together. We're going to stay together. They're going to know. So, why not let them know right now?"

He was cocksure. I was realistic.

"I'm not ready for that. You won't feel the heat of the fire. You'll be in CoMo. I'll be here, sharing an office wall with your dad, where the fire will be intense."

"Then tell them you're fucking Ray-Ray. At least there's some truth to that."

There was. I had tried to embrace Trick's laissez faire approach to life, and Raylan was now a routine participant in our sex. Sometimes, Trick would have voice practice, and just Raylan and I would fool around. He was insatiable. And, I justified it by knowing that I wasn't doing anything Trick wasn't doing. When I was in Kansas City, they almost certainly shared a bed.

When we started, I regularly topped Raylan. Now, I regularly bottomed for him. I loved watching his abdominal and chest muscles flex as he drove into and pulled out of me. I also loved how full having George buried to the hilt made me feel. I loved Trick a lot, but the sex with Raylan was insanely good. Every time I thought it could not get better and I could not have a stronger orgasm, it got better and I shot farther.

But, no connection ever developed. As Trick and I got emotionally closer and closer, Raylan orbited around us, but could not penetrate our circle. It had to be painful for him to know he was welcome to sex us, but not to love us, and we were never going to love him, at least not in the same way we loved each other.

Trick and I could sit on the bed, hold hands, and stare into each other's eyes for minutes. Without saying a word, we knew each other better when the staring ended.

We also figured out we liked to lay in opposite directions, but cheek to cheek. We had to do it on the floor, because we stretched out too long end to end to do it in a bed. Usually, I pointed my feet one way and placed my right cheek to his left, and he pointed his feet the other way. I'd reach my right arm around his head and play with his chest hair. He'd reach his right hand up and scratch the hair on my head. We'd talk like that for hours. Or, Trick would sing to me. Sometimes, we fell asleep and spent the night like that.

*****

I was in Kansas City, wondering how I would explain to Rob why I was at Mizzou's home opener when I received a text from Trick. "Sometimes, u have to rip the band aid off. I told them."

I immediately called him.

"That is not something you can tell me by text," I said.

"I'm young," he said. "I didn't know any better."

"You're lying."

"I know, but it's cute, isn't it?"

"A little. . . . But, seriously, why'd you tell them."

"It's all just ridiculous. I lie to them about why I'm not coming home. You lie to them about everything. We're trying to figure out a lie to tell them why you come watch me play and why you won't ride with them. Isn't the truth simpler?"

"Yes, but it's harder."

"Maybe in the short term. But, not in the long term."

"How'd they take it?"

"Mom hung up. Dad said, 'you've got to be fucking kidding me.' I almost said, 'you fucked him, too,' but wisdom prevailed. So, I said, 'I told you as a courtesy. It's really not your business at all. You don't tell me who you're fucking, and I shouldn't have to tell you who I'm fucking.'"

"Jesus Christ, Trick. What did he say?"

"He said, 'I'm married to your mother.' So, I said, 'she's not the only person you've fucked since you got married, and you never once came to me and said, ' son, I'm fucking around, I thought you should know.' I'm telling you as a courtesy. Handle it right, or I won't tell you anything ever again."

"Who are you?"

"I'm Trick, and I'm proud of my Trophy."

"Goddammit, be serious."

"I am serious. I am proud of you. You are the most important person in the world to me. If you cost me them, then that's a deal I'll take. All day. Every day."

I almost burst into tears. I was in a dream. I was shocked back into reality by the banging on my door.

"It's 9:30. Someone's banging on the door."

"I'm sure it's my dad. . . . Call me when he leaves," Trick said, hanging up.

*****

I opened the door to Rob. He looked inflamed and wrought. He didn't mince words.

"My son? You're fucking my son? The 'other person' you can't betray for me is my own son?"

I backed away from him as he approached, putting a sofa between the two of us. I couldn't think of anything to say other than "yes," so I said "yes" and then offered the "please let me explain."

"Let you explain?" he thundered. "Let you explain? That's ripe. I offer myself to you, and you turn me down for my own son. It's all so . . . so . . . ridiculous."

"Wait a minute. You didn't offer yourself to me. You offered a very small part of yourself to me. You wanted it both ways. You wanted your house and your white picket fence and your family and your community standing and me on the side, waiting for whatever crumb you dropped. Well, I'm not a goddamned dog, Rob. I'm a human being. So, fuck you, and fuck your righteous indignation. You're not here about Trick, you're here about you. Well, I've got some news for you, your son is very happy. Ecstatic, even. As a father, you should be happy, not making a play for the guy making your son happy."

I was pleased with my eloquence. It was almost like I had practiced that speech in my head, but I hadn't.

Rob gave in, slumping against the wall and offering only "It's all so fucked up. By the time I decided I wanted to be with you, you decided you wanted to be with my son."

He was right. I didn't have anything to say in response.

Rob righted himself and looked at me. "I can't be your friend anymore," he declared.

"I know."

"I'm going to miss being your friend," he said.

"I'm going to miss your friendship," I responded.

"If you hurt my son, I'll beat you to a pulp," he threatened.

"I know," I said, walking over to him, and wrapping my arms around him. His body shook with sobs. So did mine. All of the possibility of all of our years of friendship dried up as we cried. It was all over.

Rob pulled his head back, and looked straight into my eyes. He said nothing, but I knew what he was saying. I felt the same way. Time moves forward, not backward. Decisions are made, and they have consequences.

As we stood on my porch, Rob was slow to leave. The possibility of us would leave with him, and it was hard to close that door. When it was time, I said, "You should go."

"I know," he said. "Amy's waiting. Speaking of whom, you're not coming for the holidays. Amy never liked you. Now, I'm sure she's sticking needles in a doll that looks like you."

"I've never liked here, either. She's a bitch."

"That's my wife."

"Lucky you," I said.

"Yeah, lucky me," he said, walking slump-shouldered to his car.