Tipping the Balance (44 page)

He’d been lucky. His broker had thrown him a few last-minute desperate clients. Even though the commissions might’ve been lower than he was used to, he was grateful they existed at all, and after his basic living expenses, they all went to the renovation of the mayor’s mansion. He’d leave the tax implications to his accountant.

He wished the finances on the project were what he’d projected them to be, but all things considered, the renovation was a success insofar as it was on schedule and close to budget. The city was paying more of Renochuck’s invoices, which helped, but really, why seek out small firms and then not pay them on time? He’d never take another public job again.

So professionally, for a man about to turn twenty-nine, life was good, indeed. Personally, however, Drew wanted some changes in his next year of life. This back and forth with Brad over how or even whether to be open… he found it tiresome at best. He knew Brad had some worries about the crew, given Nick’s ongoing travails with the oversight committee, but other than that one moment at the dedication of the boat, Drew hadn’t been down to the boathouse.

But really, after that brief moment in the Bayard House, Brad seemed to have scampered right back into the closet. Drew didn’t know what might’ve caused it. Was it the sex? They seemed to have backed off of that lately. It was one more thing for him to worry about.

Drew doubted anything had happened on the jobsite. He’d fired more than one person over the years for homophobic cracks. It might be a part of that industry, but that didn’t mean he’d put up with it when he was paying the bills.

Brad’s seriously dysfunctional relationship with his father? God alone knew how Brad had endured that man all those years, but anyone who kept his children living at home after college? As the psychiatrist said to the patient in plastic-wrap underwear, “Clearly I can see you’re nuts.”

Drew really had no idea what the cause was, but both he and Brad knew that these were just proxies for deeper issues. At its root, Brad’s problem was with being gay, or at least accepting that he was gay. Drew himself had fought too long and too hard to be exactly who he was to be dragged back into the closet, and that was what the closet did. It imprisoned not just the one in it, but anyone with whom he was intimate. Brad’s secret shame was a disease that Drew perforce contracted too.

Since he also had no intention of doing without Brad, the solution—to his way of thinking—was simple. Brad would come out. Everyone should. Drew didn’t believe in outing, although homophobic politicians caught with their hands down other men’s pants were fair game. But he was certainly willing to force the issue as the price of being together.

Nick and Morgan had invited him to go dancing on his birthday the Monday before Thanksgiving, and he wanted to dance with his boyfriend. Despite his patience this summer and fall, he was going to push the issue.

“
You
asked what I wanted for my birthday, and what I want is for you to come dancing with me at Aspects,” Drew said.

They sat on the sofa in his family room after dinner, their make-out sofa, although lately Brad had been too tired for that. Drew tried to be understanding, since after all, the top had the more physically demanding role, but trying also meant failing. He wanted to dance, yes, but not the closet hokey-pokey.

They’d been going around and around on this subject, first via e-mail and now in person, all day. Earlier in the day he’d tried being gentle, but now Brad’s reluctance just angered him.

“Jeez, not with the dancing thing,” Brad groaned. “You know I—”

“Jeez, not with the self-loathing gay thing,” Drew snapped. “And yeah, I know a whole lot.”

“Can we… can I take you to a nice restaurant? A Shot of Class? It’s supposed to be the best place in town. I… I just don’t want to do something so… I don’t know… gay?”

Drew sighed. There were so many things he should’ve brought up sooner—like self-acceptance and accepting him and being out before dating him—but hadn’t. He’d been so enthralled by Brad and thrilled that Brad seemed just as interested that he let things go and swept a whole lot more under the rug. Now it was time to deal with it all, apparently.

“I like to dance. As I told you before, I have never pushed you to do anything ‘gay’—and sidebar, I hate that you stigmatize something like that—but damnation, cannot we not just go out as a couple this once?”

“I promise that later we’ll go out, just give me more time,” Brad pleaded, face anguished. “I’ll take you out at New Years. We’ll go dancing on New Year’s Eve.”

But Drew sat there, his arms folded across his chest, just as unhappy. “You know what? I’ve given you plenty of time. I’m going out, with or without you. I’m going to spend the evening with Nick and Morgan doing what I like to do, even if I’m not doing it with the one I most want to do it with. I’m tired of you dragging me back into the closet. I suggest you spend the evening deciding what you really want, because this… this creeping around in the shadows with a boyfriend who can’t give and take equally, in bed or anywhere else, and who’s terrified someone he knows will see him out with me has to stop. I deserve better than that, and frankly, you deserve more out of life than that too.”

“What… what’re you saying?” Brad said.

“I’m saying that I want, need, and will goddamn have a boyfriend who’s a full partner in life, and not just someone who can barely say the word ‘gay’ but is perfectly willing to stick his dick up my ass!”

“I’m not that bad,” Brad mumbled, looking at the table. He looked miserable, but by that point, Drew had no other idea how to reach him.

“You’re a goose-down parka and a pair of mittens away from Narnia,” Drew said tiredly.

“What’s Narnia?”

Drew just stared. “
The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe
? Ring any bells?

“I never saw the movie.”

“It’s a book, Brad.”

Brad was silent for a while. “I guess I should go… home or something.”

“I’d say so, yes. I’m going out,” Drew said.

“Can… can I see you tomorrow?”

“That’s up to you,” Drew said flatly.

“Are we taking a break?”

Drew knew at any other time his heart would break hearing Brad say that, but that night…. “That’s entirely your decision, but I can’t keep doing this… I can’t go on being treated like a dirty secret, so you should probably take some time to decide what you want out of our relationship.”

Drew mustered what dignity he had left and walked out of the family room, heading to the garage and his car. He was the one who always said he liked a challenge. Too bad this one beat him.

“Goodbye,” he heard Brad say softly when he paused at the door.

“Don’t be here when I get home, Brad.”

As good as it would’ve felt, Drew didn’t even slam the door behind him. He might’ve been angry and hurt, but stomping and slamming out of his own house would have only been pathetic.

“
Where’s
Brad?” Morgan asked, peering around Drew.

“There is no Brad tonight,” Drew said levelly. He wouldn’t cry, he wouldn’t cry….

“Drew?” Nick said, coming up from behind Morgan drying his hands on a towel. “What’s wrong?”

Morgan pulled him inside and into a hug without waiting for more. “Come here. Nick, will you go put the kettle on? We’ll need tea for this.”

“I want booze,” Drew said, lifting his head from Morgan’s chest, “not granny water.”

“That’ll come later,” Morgan said, steering him toward the sofa. It was far more battered and disreputable-looking than the suede one Drew’d just abandoned, but at that moment, it looked like the sanctuary he needed.

Nick returned in a few minutes with an electric teakettle and three mugs, tea bags already in them. “It won’t hurt to have some water in your stomach before you start drinking.”

“I don’t actually feel like drinking all that much,” Drew admitted.

“Who are you, and what’ve you done with the real Drew?” Nick said.

“Nick,” Morgan warned.

Nick shot Morgan a frustrated look.

“It’s okay, Morgan. I know he’s just trying to cheer me up, even if he’s bad at it,” Drew said.

Morgan laughed as Nick sputtered.

“So do you want to tell us what’s up?” Morgan said.

Drew’s shoulders slumped. “I told Brad what I wanted to do for my birthday was go dancing. As a couple. He refused.”

“I’m sorry,” Nick said.

“Thanks. He knows what this means to me. I mean, we talked about it after Halloween. Did you know I sat out the Goblin Ball this year?”

“Wow,” Nick muttered. At Morgan’s questioning look, he said, “It’s a big charity event he goes to every year. I figured he’d go even if he were on his death bed.”

“Pretty much, but not this year. I didn’t even bring it up because I knew it’d be a non-starter,” Drew said, making a face. “I even apologized later to Brad for not giving him a chance to say no to it, for just assuming. I mean, he was pretty uncomfortable at that CalPac football game last month, so why even bring up the ball, right?”

“So what changed this time?” Morgan asked.

Drew made a face. “I’m just sick of the hiding. Come out, already. He knows he’s gay, he’s just stuck back there with the old coats and the shirts no one wears anymore.”

“That’s rough,” Nick said.

Drew loved both of them that moment for not saying “it takes time” or anything like that. For recognizing that he just needed to talk. “And yes, I know you tried to warn me about this possibility, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. So no need for an ‘I told you so’, okay?”

“Do you really think I’d do that to you? Now?” Nick said softly.

“Do you really want an answer?” Drew said, trying to summon some shadow of his usual humor.

“He wouldn’t do it
now
,” Morgan said, “he’d wait until later, when you’ve recovered.”

Drew laughed a little, and when Nick threw a pillow at Morgan, he said, “You know he’s right.”

Nick smiled, warm and loving and sickeningly sweet. “Yeah, he is.”

Drew watched and tried to stop jealousy from swamping him as his closest friend and his boyfriend exchanged some silent communication. Then Nick nodded.

“You know, that’s kind of annoying.”

“Hush, you. It’s time to get this party started,” Nick said, standing up. He held out his hand to Drew.

“First, you’re not Pink, and second, it’s not Saturday night,” Drew groused.