“So explain to me how you got into the car business.”
Across the table, Kirk pushed up his glasses and said, “I was born into it. A long and illustrious history. My grandfather had an old used car lot. My father and his brother expanded it. My sister and my cousins work there now. Three generations of caring. I mean, you must have seen the commercial with us all in it.”
“Is it a good market for a gay car salesman?”
“It’s the same market as for any other car salesman,” Kirk shrugged. “Besides, my family doesn’t know anything about that. There was never really a way to bring it up. And… there doesn’t seem to be much of a point.”
“I know what you mean,” Paul nodded.
“People always act like you’re in the closet or not. I know men who are. They sneak around and lie to everyone, and they’re always afraid. I’m not afraid, it’s just…”
“Your life is your life.”
“Right. And, until I have a guy at my side who I care about, what would I have to tell my family anyway? Instead of them thinking I’m unlucky in love and can’t get a girl, they’ll just think I’m unlucky in love and can’t get a man.”
Paul took a sip of his water and said, “My family just found out. I mean, I was living away from them. I didn’t really tell them, I showed them. They came to visit for the show, and stayed the night with some of my friends. Then they put it all together.
“I used to think that the good thing about coming out was my family wouldn’t think I was this lonely old virgin.”
“But straight people always think gay men are all lonely old virgins.”
“Or perverts.”
“They can’t really make up their mind,” Kirk laughed. He rubbed his hands together.
“My dad used to quote Saint Paul about me,” Kirk said. “Saint Paul said the married man is concerned about pleasing his wife and the things of this world, but the single man is worried about the things which please only heaven. Only he would say the Business instead of heaven, and clap me on the back.”
“So you’re the hard little worker?”
“Being the hard little worker keeps my mind off of being sick of being alone.”
There was a silence for a space, and in that moment the very winning, confident Kirk Paul had met earlier was gone. And then he came back and Kirk spoke.
“So, whaddit you do in California?”
“Mostly fail at being what I wanted to be.” Paul had seen the answer coming and planned for it early on.
“I wanted to be an actor. I don’t even remember if I wanted to go to Hollywood, but I must have.” He frowned.
“I just wanted to get the hell out of East Carmel.”
“I hear you,” Kirk said. “I wanted to get out of Rossford. I did too. Went to school out in California. Probably the same time you were working there. But I came back. And now I’m here.”
“You happy here?”
Kirk thought about it for a moment and then smiled, surprised.
“Yeah,” he said in a long, satisfied breath. “I actually am. Yeah.
“You?”
“Right now. Yes.”
Kirk grinned and sipped his drink.
“That’s what I like to hear.”
“You didn’t have to walk me to the front door.”
“Well, let’s just say I wanted to walk you to the front door.”
“Thanks. I… I don’t really want this night to end.”
“Well, then, is that your way of saying you’ll go out with me again?”
Paul chuckled and put a finger to his teeth. “I think…”
“I think that’s a yes,” Kirk said, grinning.
“Yeah. I think it might be.”
“Good. That’s what I wanted to hear. I… uh,” Kirk put out his hands awkwardly.
“I guess I should—Ahh—” he broke off in a scream.
“I hate to break this up,” Claire Anderson said, emerging from the bushes. “But I really need to talk to you, Paul.”
“Claire?”
“Hi, pleased to meet you. Claire Anderson,” she said, shaking Kirk’s hand.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“Same thing you were doing? Dating,” she smiled at Paul, appraisingly.
“Nice work, big brother.”
“Thank you,” Kirk said the same time Paul did, and then they both grinned at each other.”
“Call me,” Kirk made a phone sign to his ear.
“He’s gotta call you,” Claire said. “He’s buying a car from your lot.”
“Oh, yeah,” Kirk remembered, but Paul said, “How did you—”
“Don’t worry about it,” Claire said. “We need to talk.”
“Paul, I’m serious, that guy is cute. Don’t let him slip away. He’s all little and bite size. Looks like he was a wrestler back in college.”
“He was.”
“Yeah,” Claire said, thoughtfully. “He could be fun on a winter’s night.”
Paul looked at his little sister in horror.
“What do you know about fun on a winter’s night.”
“Don’t you worry about it, Brother.”
“I don’t ever want to hear you talk about winter nights,” Paul murmured, still horrified.
“All right, we’re past that. Back to my point. Do you know Julian Lawden?”
“I know who he is. He’s Layla’s half brother.”
“Right, well, I was with him.”
“Really!”
“Paul, focus.”
“All right. I’m focusing.”
“Good. Anyway, I was with him and who should come up to him but Fenn’s father, and I don’t want to go into the whole thing, but to make a long story short, when he left I asked Julian who he was and Julian looked at me surprised, and then said, it was his grandfather.”
“Well, yeah because Layla and—” and then Paul stopped while Claire looked at him critically.
“There’s no reason Fenn’s father would be related to Julian, is there?”
“No.”
“I mean, what you’re saying is Fenn’s father is Julian and Layla’s grandfather?”
“Right.”
“And Julian and Layla would have one grandfather in common.”
“But it would be from her father’s family.”
Paul nodded and said, “Well, then I’m confused.”
“To top it off,” Claire said, “I’m pretty sure that Julian doesn’t know his grandfather is Layla’s grandfather.”
“Well, then what the hell is going on?”
“There’s only one way to find out.”
“No!” Paul shook his head. “It’s a lot of ways to find out. But they all involve getting our noses deep in the Houghton family business, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”
“I was just thinking…”
“Hum,” Paul turned to his sister.
“I’m glad I gotta go back to E.C. now. It’s kind of all on you.”
“If you’re going out with Julian now, it’s gonna be on you.”
Claire shrugged.
“Your Kirk?”
“He’s not my Kirk.”
“He looked like your Kirk, Paul. Anyway…”
“Anyway, what?”
“He’s got a cute ass.”
“Where do you get off!”
“Doesn’t he?” Claire said, grinning wickedly, as she stood up and readjusted her purse.
When Paul didn’t answer she said:
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
Dena Reardon saw him in the grocery store. At first she thought about avoiding him, but why should she? What had she done wrong. At the sight of Kenny McGrath she was instantly ashamed. All the talk about innocence, about the flawless prize of virginity, not to be sacrificed until the marriage bed came back to her. She’d been screwing Brendan for well into a month, the first few times not even using condoms, sure that as they sweated and struggled in her bed they were doing something wonderful, something he had wanted. He had said he’d wanted it. Right? It had been his whole idea. And then for him to come to her like that, all hangdog, and say that he didn’t really love her, that he was gay, that he knew because he’d been fooling around with Kenny McGrath. Well, good God and holy shit!
Dena got in line. Look at him. If she didn’t know what he was she might want him a little. Kenny had thick auburn curls, and he always had those black lashes. He was big, not football big, but Lacrosse big, which is why he played Lacrosse she supposed, and he sort of rough and tumble. But always… pretty. The freckles across his nose, the sharpness of his blue eyes. Once she had liked him. But after Brendan, she put him out her mind. Once the liking had been sweet and she had Layla had whispered about it.
Layla.
Layla had held her and comforted her that day, but there was no getting around it now, Layla was hurt and she had stayed away. Dena tried to call her once.
“You always call like no one but you has a life, Miss. Dena. All about you? Except for when you want to lie to me. Did you think I had problems too? I do, Dena.”
“That’s why I called.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it. You called to go on about Brendan. Well, you made your own bed and you can lie in it with or without him. Without me too.”
It was pretty clear Layla was not in the mood to talk.
Brendan, to his credit, had called everyday. But Dena had told her mother to say she wasn’t home. She couldn’t deal with Brendan. She felt stupid and angry just thinking about him. She hated him really. She couldn’t believe she’d let him inside of her.
The only thing worse than that is…
I liked it.
She enjoyed having sex with Brendan. For her it was just so good, and to think the whole time it had been a lie. The whole time he’d been fucking her and she’d been thinking that somehow they were corkscrewing themselves into spiritual union, he’d been picturing Kenny.
He never opened his eyes when we did it!
“Dena!” Kenny said, suddenly startled when she stood before his cash register.
She stared up at him, eyes hard.
“Kenneth,” she said. “I have something for you.”
She put down the eggs, and the bread, the two bags of Oreos on sale that Nell had sent her to get, and said, “And this.”
He blinked at her.
And reaching across with all her might, Dena rolled her hand into a fist and knocked Kenny unconscious at his station.
