A Kind of Truth (20 page)

“No one takes me seriously.” I sighed in mock irritation. “Delivery. I’ll take sausage, mushroom, peppers, olives… oh, and onions too.”

“I don’t like onions on pizza. And where are you going? You’re supposed to call for pizza.”

I hopped out of bed and headed for the bathroom. “I’m showering, you’re calling. Put onions on half, and babe?”

“Hmm?”

“Make it an extra-large. I’m starving.”

A PERSISTENT
buzzing roused me from a deep dream. The awesome kind you want to last as long as possible to see where it leads, though you know the minute you wake up you’ll never remember the important details. I let out an unintelligible grunt as I stretched my hands over my head and blinked against the bright sunlight cascading through the blinds. I was alone in Will’s bed. I allowed myself to revel in the silence.

I hadn’t been truly alone in a very long time. It felt decadent. It was hard to imagine a time I might actually have a place of my own. Even a small one like this. I listened for the telltale sounds of him moving nearby, but other than the muted buzzing noise coming from the pile of discarded clothing on the floor, the room was quiet. I glanced at the empty space beside me as I reached for my jeans to pull out my cell. It immediately lit up like a Christmas tree.

There were at least ten missed calls, voice messages, and a slew of texts. I stopped at the one from Will sent an hour ago.

I’m meeting my mom for brunch. C u later, sleeping beauty

I stared at the message before typing my response.

I love brunch. Where should I meet u?

Tim, Cory, and Mike had each left multiple texts. And there was even one from Terry. I was reluctant to read any further without coffee. I was very aware that a performance high was often followed by a crash. In a band, that meant there were three other egos to soothe when the occasional bouts of self-doubt surfaced the next morning. The “we rocked it!” could easily spiral into “we sucked.” I wasn’t mentally prepared to deal with anyone else’s highs or lows yet. Nor was I ready to deal with Terry. I set my phone aside and sat back on the futon to put my shoes and socks on.

Not happening. I’m near Central Park at the Plaza Hotel. Want 2 meet after?

I typed a series of immature emoticons but hesitated before sending my reply.

Sure

Will countered my devils, skulls, and horned, purple emojis with sunshine, bumblebees, and a ladybug. I chuckled and was about to respond when a call came through.

“Rand’s phone,” I said, pitching my voice in a woman’s high falsetto designed to irritate the caller.

“Gee, is he there?”

“I’ll check.”

“Thanks, and while you’re at it, let that fuckhead know I’ve been trying to reach him all freaking day!”

I dropped my vocal affectation and sighed wearily. “What’s the matter, Timmy? You need me to pick up some toilet paper on my way home?”

“You’re a riot. Have you listened to any of your messages by chance?”

“Nope. I just woke up. I can’t deal with the real world until I’m properly caffeinated. You know the rules.”

“Well, since I finally have your attention and time is of the essence, I’ll give you a breakdown.”

“Did you really just say ‘time is of the essence’? I can’t do this without java. Bye, Tim.”

“Don’t hang up! There were three record execs in the audience last night, Rand. Not one but three. And they fucking loved us. Mike’s over the moon, but he’s freaking out because they all want to meet you.” He waited a beat before adding, “And Will.”

“Will? You didn’t tell them his name or—”

“No. But we have a complication named Terry.”

“No, we don’t. He’s fired.”

“I’m not sure it’s that simple. Trust me, we’d all rather have Will. You said he was talented, but I think you undersold him. The guy’s a prodigy. We all think so. Mike’s worried there may be contractual issues with Terry but—”

“There are no contractual issues. We never signed anything and we don’t owe him shit. He’s out. Period. End of story. And as manager, that’s Mike’s job. If he can’t handle it, have him call me. But none of that means Will is going to want to take Terry’s place.”

A piece of black mesh next to the bed caught my attention. I bent to pick up the fishnet stockings and fingered the delicate fabric before lifting it to my nose, breathing in Will’s scent. God, that was hot.

“Either way we need to talk. This is finally looking real, Rand. I think we’re almost there.”

This was usually when I’d insert some smartass comment to defuse the enormity of those three simple words,
we’re almost there
. My speech about counting chickens before they hatched wouldn’t come, because I had a crazy feeling Tim might just be right.

I TOOK
the subway to Fifty-Ninth and Fifth Avenue. I paused at the corner in front of the entrance to Central Park, across the street from the Plaza Hotel. I wasn’t going to meet Will at first. Last night was intense and unexpected from start to finish. I figured it was best to retreat for a day or two. I had to keep my head in the game and stop spinning over a guy. But Will wasn’t just a guy. He was special. And I was having a hard time trying to figure him out.

We’d arranged to meet at one of the benches on the park side of
Fifth. I started to turn down the pathway, but I was a little early, so I decided to wait for him in front of the hotel. I made my way to the corner and glanced across the street. The Plaza Hotel was a stately building with a grand entrance, complete with red-carpeted stairs. It was nice as far as landmarks were concerned, but I’d never pay money to stay there. Too ritzy for my taste, I mused. I pushed the crosswalk button and looked up again when a familiar figure caught my eye.

A balding man in a dark sports coat descended the stairs. He stopped halfway and stood with his arm outstretched. A moment later, a woman appeared. Will’s mom. And Marty. He took her hand and guided her down the stairs to a waiting black Escalade. It was all very gallant—and nauseating. Maybe it was a bad character trait to judge others without knowing them, but I didn’t like Marty or Mom. I glanced toward the main entrance looking for Will, then back at them when he didn’t appear. They were standing close and talking. Then Marty lifted his hand to caress her face and kissed her lips before moving to the driver side.

I stared at them for a moment in shock. Whoa. They were lovers.

She laughed at something he said, then glanced aimlessly in my direction. I was far enough away she might not have recognized me, but when she hesitated before getting into the SUV, I was fairly certain she had.

I watched until the Escalade pulled away. The traffic was heavy in this area. Taxis dodged Citi Bikes and horse-drawn buggies. The sounds of many languages being spoken amid the honking and ubiquitous construction echoed in my head. All I could think was there’s no way Will knew. I took a deep breath before turning back toward the benches to wait for him, wondering what, if anything, this meant.

CENTRAL PARK
was stunning in the springtime. Daffodils and tulips dotted the wide paths under lush green canopies. There were more people milling about than usual, and who could blame them? After a harsh winter, it was hard to resist the lure of sunshine and a cloudless sky. I adjusted my sunglasses to block the early-afternoon glare as Will pointed out places of interest like a seasoned tour guide.

“This field is called Sheep Meadow because it was once home to a flock of purebred sheep. I think it was from the mid-1800s to the 1930s. The Tavern on the Green restaurant was where the sheep and shepherd lived. Crazy, huh?”

“Which part? The sheep in Central Park or the fact you know this stuff?”

Will lowered his Ray-Bans to give me an irritated scowl. I chuckled and pulled him against me, slinging my arm over his shoulder to kiss his cheek but licked it instead.

“Ew! Rand!”

I laughed as he swiped at his cheek and glared at me. His hair had grown out, so the tousled, sun-streaked locks fell into his eyes when he turned quickly.

“Sorry. The sheep story was really interesting. Tell me more.”

“You aren’t sorry. You’re just annoying. I’m done talking to you.”

“Hmph. Well, tell me about your visit with Mommy, then. I’m crushed I wasn’t invited to brunch.”

“I bet.”

“Can I just say she’s nothing like I expected?”

Will went quiet and gave me a chagrined sideways glance. “I’m sorry she offended you the other day. Sometimes I think she tries, but then I think she doesn’t know how. I can’t decide if that’s terrible or if it’s something I have to let go.”

“I wanted to rattle her. I hate being ignored.”

“Well, you succeeded. She asked about you again this morning.”

“I thought she was only here for a night.”

“Me too. She wanted to spend more time shopping in the city. She’s gone now. I’m just glad I remembered to set an alarm this morning to meet her. I would have had a hard time explaining why I missed brunch.”

“You’re a twenty-two-year-old college student. I’m sure she’d understand.”

“She wouldn’t. And she wouldn’t understand anything about last night, either.” He turned a bright shade of red before continuing. “I mean, about the show.”

“Gotcha,” I said with a mischievous grin. I wrapped my arm around him again. “So where did you tell her you were last night?”

“A school function. I started to tell her I had to work at the theater until I heard she was going to a play with Martin and—”

I dropped my arm and stopped in my tracks. “Marty again?”

Will bit the inside of his lip and looked away. “Let’s not go there. They’re friends. I can’t do anything about it.”

“Do you think they’d still be friends if she knew about him?”

“Maybe,” he said with a shrug. “I suppose it depends on how they rank our sins. All he did was offer a proposition. I didn’t have to accept. Even if it didn’t last beyond a couple dates, I’m guilty too. Besides, Martin is a successful, married man. I’m gay.”

“That makes no sense. You’re a lot of things besides gay.” When he shrugged absently, I decided to ask another question. “Do you think there’s anything special between your mom and Marty?”

Will’s brow furrowed. He inclined his head thoughtfully. I could practically see the wheels in his head turning. When he didn’t answer immediately, I was sorry I brought it up. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. I’m just being a jerk.”

“As far as I know they’re just friends. They seemed normal at breakfast. They both asked a lot of annoying questions about my post-graduation plans. No one likes the idea of me staying in the city for grad school. Especially if my degree is in music and theater. It’s too gay.”

“And you told them where to shove it, eh?”

Will chuckled. “Not exactly, but I wish I had. It’s a particular talent of my mom’s to make the word
gay
sound like an insult. A disease. I grew up thinking there was something wrong with me. My
parents
fed me that line. Not about me specifically, but in the years before I could say what it was that was different about me, the one thing I hoped it wasn’t was gay. No one had anything good to say about homosexuality.

“I have this very vivid memory of coming to the city when I was about twelve. We’d been here before, so it wasn’t the everyday sightseeing stuff I cared about. It was the theater. We had tickets to see
Spring Awakening
, and I couldn’t wait. My dad’s not-so-subtle eye roll didn’t ruin anything for me. This was a big deal. I wasn’t disappointed. It was so… amazing. I was blown away by the storyline, the music… everything. I think that’s when I knew I wanted to do something in theater. I was moved to tears, and I couldn’t hold them back. Dad was mortified. He looked over at my mom and snapped at her to deal with me before everyone got the idea I was gay.”

“Your dad sounds like a dick.”

“Well, he was right. I am gay.” Will huffed humorlessly. “I’m not the son he thought he’d have. His strategy is to punish me by cutting me off emotionally and financially, like that will make me want to be who he expects. And my mom… sometimes I think she’s in my corner, but then I’m not so sure. I think she puts on a show because she doesn’t want anyone to know she has a gay son and a difficult husband. If she plays the role of doting wife and mother, no one will know we have skeletons in our closet. Like my gayness. Families are so… hard. There is so much pretense and old games that no one remembers the rules to anymore. Dysfunction at its finest.”

“Every family is like that to some degree. The trick is not letting your folks or anyone else dictate how you find happiness. I like your ‘gayness.’ Be proud of it.”

Will smiled. “I’m starting to feel like I can get there. If it’s a sin to feel so good, I want to be a sinner. Like you.”

I threw my head back and laughed, then slung my arm back over his shoulder. “That’s the spirit!”

We stopped to make room for a gaggle of screaming kids chasing each other out to the open field behind us. I watched their progress, thinking it would be so nice to have no bigger worries than making sure you weren’t “it” in a game of tag. Finding out Will’s father was a homophobic jerk and his mother was possibly having an affair with the guy who propositioned him to be his cross-dressing escort felt heavy. The people he should be able to count on for support weren’t there for him. He really was alone. I was almost grateful when my phone buzzed loudly in my pocket, diverting my attention.

“You should answer. I’m curious to hear what the word is on last night.”

“The word, eh?” I teased. A straggling kid darted in front of me to join his friends. I sidestepped him and almost dropped my cell. I juggled it at the last second and answered quickly without looking at the caller ID.

“Hi, Rand. It’s Leah.”

“Oh hi. What’s up?”

“Great show last night. Your new guitarist is incredible!”

“Thanks. He was pretty awesome. We needed someone to cover for Terry at the last—”