Gemini (5 page)

"Yeah," I say, real fast. Too fast. I shrug. "Just haven't thought about it for a while. We did okay, you know?" That might be an exaggeration; I haven't spoken to my Dad in a long time, but Paul seems willing enough to accept it.

Or so I thought. You can never really tell with him, he backs away from stuff and then brings it back up when he's ready. This would be one of those times. We're walking back to the parlor after dinner and he says, "I find it really hard to understand, Gent."

I don't say anything, just nod and wait.

"My mom and dad, they were really good people, they loved us so much. I guess me and Jamie grew up a little sheltered—people in our lives got divorced, but I can't think of anyone who lost a parent like you did. I can't imagine what would be going on inside her head to leave a little boy. Her boy." He stops walking and looks me in the eye. "Can't imagine why she'd leave you."

I'm not the kind of guy who cries on the street. I haven't cried about my mother for years, and I'm not about to now.

"It wasn't about me," I say, because that's what I'm supposed to say. That's what I've been told, all my life; it wasn't my fault. "It was about her. I'm over it." It wasn't my fault. I am over it. I am.

39

Gemini

by Chris Owen

Maybe someday it won't be a lie.

* * * *

"So," Jamie says around a mouthful of sandwich, "Paul told me about your mom."

Of course he did. I'm really starting to catch onto this thing; what one knows, they both know. That's good, generally. I mean, it's got to cut down on most misunderstandings, right? But it does tend to bring up sore spots more often than I'm used to. I sigh before I can stop myself. "Yeah."

"Heavy stuff, pretty boy." He's looking at me seriously, but somehow not intrusively. Like that's all he had to say, but he's willing to listen if I want to say more. It's good to know, but I really don't want to hash that shit out again.

"Not a pretty boy," I say with a growl, then wink at him.

He snorts and then coughs. Guess he shouldn't do that when he's swallowing. When he can breathe again he says,

"Better fix your mirror, pretty. You're ... very pretty."

I glare at him. "Girls are pretty."

"So are boys with your hair and features."

"Shut up."

"You shut up."

"That makes no sense."

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Gemini

by Chris Owen

"Doesn't have to. I'm the oldest."

I raise an eyebrow at him. "Are you?"

He nods and passes me his Coke. "Older than Paul by nine minutes, and a few hours older than you."

"Huh. Cool, I guess."

"So not only are you the pretty one, you're the baby." He looks terribly smug, the prick.

I drink from his Coke and think about that. Doesn't seem quite right, really. I shake my head and pass the can back to him. "Nope. Paul's the baby. Might be older, but trust me.

He's my baby, your baby brother, and that's the way it is."

Jamie peers at me for a second and finishes the Coke, then lobs the can into a nearby bin. "Two points. And you might be right. What does that make me?"

I look him up and down and leer a little. "Hot."

"Yeah, yeah. Listen, got a book reading tomorrow night at the shop, wanna come? You and Paul can sit on the couch and look all cute together."

I laugh and shake my head. "Work. Bet Paul will go, though."

Jamie nods. "Yeah, I'll make him."

"Is that some perk of being the oldest—you can make us do what you want?"

"Yep." Jamie grins at me for a second and I grin back.

Then he laughs a little, says, "Actually, Paul's the pushy one.

He got us together, you know that?"

I shake my head. "I know nothing. Well, other than the two of you started up in a threesome, he told me that much."

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Gemini

by Chris Owen

Jamie stands up and starts to walk, waiting as I scramble to keep up. I guess we're going for a walk in the park.

"I came out when I was fourteen," Jamie says, his hands shoved in his pockets, which, trust me, I notice. I hold hands with Paul all the time, but Jamie and me, we keep a distance when we're in public. I don't like it much, but I can see the reason behind it. "Paul, obviously, was cool with it, and Mom and Dad adjusted well. Their first reaction was to ask if I was sure and then to tell me they loved me. Other than that, there wasn't any fireworks when I was around—I think Mom cried sometimes, though."

I shrug a shoulder. "My dad flipped when he found out," I offer. "But then, I didn't tell him so much as get caught, so I guess it figured."

"Ouch."

"Yeah."

"Anyway, by the time I was sixteen I was getting ... well, I was sixteen. I wanted to date."

"You wanted to fuck."

"I wanted to fuck." He grins at me and I nod. I was a teenager, I know these things. "Didn't though. I was on so many teams and things I didn't have time, and I was pretty nervous about letting anyone really know I was into guys. You don't want to get caught alone in a locker room after practice, you know?"

Oh yeah, I know about that too.

"So, I never really went out much. Messed around a bit, but didn't really have anyone serious. Then the accident happened, and me and Paul were pretty useless for months.

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Gemini

by Chris Owen

Went to school, came home, sat and stared at the walls. Our grandmother was living with us, so we were okay, but we were too messed up to ... to be messing around."

I can see that. Don't know what it feels like, but I can picture it, picture them being lost and sad and alone.

"Just after we turned eighteen Paul started coming into my room at night. He had horrid nightmares, was even in therapy for them. Every night, he'd be shaking and screaming and crying ... unless he slept with me. The doctor said he was relieving the trauma and needed to know that he still had family. I didn't care, I just wanted him better, and if he was sleeping in my bed that was fine with me. Wasn't supposed to be a lifetime thing; he'd get better as his subconscious figured out I was still alive, still loved him. The doctor said that so long as we were both comfortable with it, fine. Not good long term, but for a while..."

He looks at me, and I nod to let him know I get it. And I can see how that would sort of start things; teenagers, one messed up, the other hurting too—only natural to take comfort where you can find it.

"Paul never told our parents he's gay. Hell, he might not even be gay—we don't know. I know he liked girls fine when he was younger, but he was a book geek and shy and never really made any effort to date anyone, let alone guys." Jamie looks at me and smiles a little. "Paul was a late bloomer.

Maybe he's gay, maybe he's bi ... doesn't matter. Only thing that matters is how it turned out."

"Yeah," I say. "But I think he's definitely on the queer side.

Nothing shy about the way he went after me."

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Gemini

by Chris Owen

Jamie considers that for a second. "Yeah, maybe you're right. Anyway, back then there wasn't anything going on.

He'd wake up in the morning and tumble out of bed, and that was it. Then he started leaving earlier and earlier; I'd wake up and it'd still be dark, and his side of the bed was cold. I'd look for him sometimes, and find him up and dressed at five-thirty. Or watching TV. I knew he wasn't sleeping well and I kind of freaked a little, thought the nightmares were getting worse and that he'd make himself sick."

We walk a little way in silence. I'm kind of watching him, but he seems okay, just lost in thought. We turn a corner in the path, start heading back toward his store. "So what happened?" I ask finally.

Jamie blinks and looks at me, then grins. "Sorry. Um, he

... he had this friend. I was after Paul all the time, telling him he had to talk to me, that I was worried, that I wanted him to sleep in my bed, that I was cool with it. Part I wasn't telling him was that I really missed him when I woke up, that I was having a pretty major mental fit over how much I wanted him there. God, first time I woke up wrapped up in him I got hard in, like, three seconds." He shrugs. "I liked it. Knew it was wrong, but I liked it anyway."

"And he was ... what? Flipped about it?"

"Nah, he didn't know. Turns out he was freaking about the same thing, spending all his time away from the house talking to this guy about it or jerking off in the shower. He wanted me, he had to talk it out."

Right, so I'm not stupid. I'm also starting to think I'm never ever going to know the name of their ex-lover.

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Gemini

by Chris Owen

Whatever—it's not important to me. But it's one more weird thing on top of the pile.

"Okay. So ... you guys obviously figured something out," I say.

Jamie tilts his head and flashes me another grin, the one that Paul never manages to pull off. It's wicked and dirty and I just freaking love it. Almost as much as the slow shy one Paul has that Jamie can't do.

"Not really," Jamie says, then dances away when I try to smack him. He seems to really like making me work for information he's actually offering for free—it's just on his terms, which is really something I should think about later.

Control issues, maybe; not that that's a bad thing, if channelled in the right direction. However, it's not time to start thinking about Jamie topping me, it's time to listen and the man is talking.

"I wasn't talking about it. Paul wasn't talking to me. So the three of us got stinking drunk one night and it was forced out of us, both of us goaded into yelling and screaming and finally just saying it. I wanted us to go to Paul's therapist—I kinda figured we were just displacing stuff, working emotional shit out through our bodies. Being that age—we were nineteen by then—it seemed like every conceivable issue was manifesting through sex. I mean, Paul was having body issues, which made me freak 'cause he looks just like me and I thought we were fine, and then me wanting to sleep with him, and wanting to have sex with him ... it just struck me as somewhat less than healthy."

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Gemini

by Chris Owen

No shit. Mind, I shouldn't listen to my voices—I am, after all, sleeping with both of them. Often. Together. I have my own issues. So I just nod and gently steer him off the path, to a bench near the gate. He doesn't seem to notice, and he sits facing me.

"Paul wouldn't. He spouted the same stuff back at me, said he knew it was fucked up, but he just wanted one single thing in his life that felt good, one person he knew he could count on. He asked me to trust him, to just give him a picture of what it was like to be loved for who he was, by someone who knew him inside and out and loved him anyway.

"And then he kissed me."

"Game over," I say quietly. I feel odd, sort of like I've been given a gift I didn't know I wanted until I had it. My stomach is a little light and I don't know what to say, how to tell Jamie thank you for letting me know this.

"Game over," he whispers back, meeting my eye. "That's all it took—not the kiss, but telling me what he needed, letting me know what he was prepared to deal with to be with me. We didn't go into this blind, Gent. There was a lot of shit after that, but there were some amazing times in the next three years. We were ... really good together, for a long time."

"You miss it," I say, beginning to clue in.

He nods. "I do. Paul does. But that's not why we're with you—don't think you're a replacement. Paul and I, we need balance. We need a third, a buffer, someone to keep us in the world, to keep life real." He stands up and waits for me again, then leans in really close to talk in my ear. "We're not going 46

Gemini

by Chris Owen

to settle for just anyone, pretty. We're looking for a partner, not a quick lay." Then he kisses my cheek and steps back, like he's not said or done anything. "See you after work," he says softly.

"See ya," I agree, and then he turns and walks away, back to his shop. Oddly, I find the entire conversation reassuring.

There was a time that getting into the heavy, important parts of a relationship would send me running, but this time ... it makes me feel reassured that there's a point to this, that it's beyond sex and hanging out.

I think I like that.

47

Gemini

by Chris Owen

Chapter Six

I've been cleaning my apartment all day, and I've barely got my hair dry and tied back when there's a knock on the door. It's the first time I've spent my day off like this and I'm not sure I like it. Before the twins I'd spend my day off sleeping, going downtown for a bit, shooting pool. Lately I've spent my time watching Jamie play ball or meeting Paul for lunch—generally just hanging out with them. Today? I clean my apartment and cook dinner. Shocking.

All right, it's a one time only event, and it's for a good cause. The three of us have been easing off on the dating thing a bit—which is good, it wasn't supposed to go on forever. I suspect that this will be the last 'date' I have with Paul for a while, and I sort of want it to be a good one; I even got him a present. He's never seen my place, so it's all tidy in its own substandard way, and I made pasta.

I let Paul in and he greets me with the shy smile and a kiss that's anything but. I may be mildly addicted to his contradictions. Anyway, he's here and I show him into the living room—by letting him take two steps forward from the door—and he looks around, one hand tangling with mine.

I feel a little self-conscious, a little embarrassed. I know it's dumb, but when I compare my place with theirs ... well, it's not good. I live in a not so great area, have a tiny little over-priced one bedroom hovel that hasn't been redecorated since 1976. It's a far cry from their place, but Paul doesn't seem to care, which is nice. He's much more interested in the books on the shelves than the shelves themselves.