When the Stars Come Out (28 page)

control in his hand. “Watch carefully.”

“I don’t think you have to watch all that carefully,” muttered

Bart, as Kitty once again began singing
When the Stars Come Out
.

And then, perhaps one minute into the number, Noah saw it.

Or, rather, he didn’t see it. That magical moment when the camera

caught Quinn and Jimmy as their eyes met was now nowhere to be

seen.

In fact, Jimmy was missing altogether. Not only had their brief

moment been excised, but all evidence of Jimmy Beloit had now

disappeared. The woman in the blue dress still danced, but now

she danced with a sailor. The other dancers remained—the smiling

blond guy, the swarthy one with the widow’s peak, the others—but

Jimmy had been disappeared from the film.

“She cut you out?” asked Noah, stating the obvious.

Jimmy paused the scene and sighed. “So it seems. I mean, I was

there when we watched the tape the other night, and now I’m not.”

“This is bad,” said Bart. “Quinn will go ballistic.”

“I don’t understand how they did that,” said Noah, studying the

stilled figures on the screen, one of which was still
not
Jimmy, no matter how hard he stared.

“Me, either. But I’m a dancer, not a technician.”

Noah turned in his seat and looked up at Jimmy, who still stood

in the aisle, remote in hand.

“Are you all right?”

Jimmy’s lower lip trembled slightly, but he held his composure.

He set the remote on the back of a chair and said, “Yeah, I’m okay.

But . . . why would she do this? It’s been thirty-six years! Why can’t she just leave us alone?”

Without another word, Jimmy turned and left the screening room,

leaving Kitty, Quinn, and every dancer who wasn’t Jimmy frozen on

the screen.

“That sucks,” said Bart, after he was gone.

“It’s so petty and vindictive,” Noah said, picking up the remote

and zapping the images from the screen. He flicked the lights back on. “And why Jimmy? If she was going to gun for someone, why not

Quinn?”

W H E N T H E S T A R S C O M E O U T

187

“Two reasons, I’d imagine. One, because she probably sees

Jimmy as the gay male equivalent of the Other Woman. And two,

because . . . well, let’s face it; Quinn was a star. He was a somebody.

Jimmy was just a dancer, and no one will ever notice that he’s been erased from the scene.”

“Nobody except Quinn and Jimmy,” said Noah, and Bart grunted

his agreement.

That night, three of the four men ate dinner under a cloud of

sadness that Quinn couldn’t understand.

“Is something wrong?” he finally asked, feeling as if he had been

left out of something that had happened under his roof.

Jimmy tried to smile. “No, Quinn. Why?”

“You’re all being too damn quiet.”

Bart tried to rally. “You know, I’ve been feeling a bit under the

weather all day. Maybe there’s a bug going around.” Noah and

Jimmy quickly offered their concurrences.

“Ah, bullshit,” grumbled Quinn, having none of it. He stood,

tossing his napkin on the table, and said, “If no one is going to tell me what’s going on, I’m going to watch some TV.”

After he was gone, the silence in the room deepened, until Jimmy

finally spoke.

“Okay, I’ve been thinking about this. I hate to admit this, but I’m still very angry about what happened to that movie. I can’t seem to let it go . . . and I let
everything
go.”

“Too bad we’re powerless,” said Bart.

“I know. But I think I can get a little satisfaction out of this. A little . . .
payback
. And the DVD is going to help me.” He looked at Noah and Bart, and added, “It could help
all
of us.”

“How?” asked Noah.

Jimmy looked up at the ceiling and pondered the question for a

moment before answering.

“Noah, I mean no offense by this, but I’ve been a bit ambivalent

about your project. Less so than Quinn, granted, but I sort of agree with him that it’s probably best to let sleeping dogs lie. To the extent I’ve been in your corner, it’s been because I want Quinn to be remembered for the star he once was . . . and because I know that

you mean a lot to Bart.”

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R o b B y r n e s

Bart shifted uncomfortably.

“Ever since I was—what, banished?—from the business, I’ve

been content to be with Quinn and lead a pretty anonymous life.

It’s a good life, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not the life I envisioned when I was singing and dancing on a soundstage. Because of

Quinn—well, really, because of Kitty, but still—I gave it all up, and I would do it again if I had to.” Jimmy realized that his voice was rising and, despite his best efforts, he was starting to tremble slightly with anger. He took a few deep breaths to keep himself under control and continued. “But this pisses me off for a few reasons. First, because
my
accomplishments—while modest—were still
my
accomplishments. Kitty Randolph chased me out of the business, but she

had no right to make it seem as if I never existed.”

“True,” said Noah.

Jimmy ignored him. “More importantly, the look we gave each

other is gone. She has erased The Glance. Forever. Well, except for VHS, but how much life does that tape have in it? She took a moment that was very special to Quinn and me and erased it forever.

And I don’t have to add that no one—
no one
—except for me, Quinn, and that
bitch
has ever or will ever notice that look. It was imperceptible to the public eye, but it meant everything to us. And she . . .” He stopped, unable to go on.

The room fell silent again for long minutes, each man afraid to

look at the others. When Jimmy finally spoke, he was back in con-

trol.

“Anyway, enough about that. We can’t undo what she’s done. We

can only use it.”

“Use it?” asked Noah.

Jimmy laughed, but it was a cold laugh . . . the laugh of a man

who really didn’t think anything was all that funny. “I’m the cool, controlled half of Quinn and Jimmy, right? So if I feel this strongly about what she’s done, just imagine Quinn’s reaction.”

“Oh, God,” Bart muttered, hiding his face in his hands. “He’ll be

a wild man.”

“Yes, he will,” Jimmy confirmed. “And Noah will have his book.”

Noah looked at Bart, then Jimmy. “Uh . . . I’m not sure I follow.”

Jimmy tented his fingers and stared across the table at him.

“Quinn doesn’t want to do the book the way
you
want to do it, cor-W H E N T H E S T A R S C O M E O U T

189

rect?” Noah nodded. “He wants to glide over his marriage to Kitty . . .

he wants to keep her out of it. He wants to show her some respect.

Correct?” Again, he was answered with a nod. “But if Quinn sees I

was cut out of
Stars
, you know he’s going to be angry and want to get back at her. Correct?”

This time, Noah didn’t nod instinctively. This time, he actually

understood where Jimmy was going.

Noah thought about Jimmy’s suggestion. “I’m not sure that re-

venge is the way we want to go here.”

“Suddenly noble?” Jimmy’s voice dripped with sarcasm, and—

for the first time—Noah realized that the agreeable former dancer

and patient life-partner was not a pushover. Jimmy Beloit knew how to push back.

“No,” Noah mumbled. “But it feels wrong. Like we’re tricking

Quinn or something.”

“What we’re doing,” said Jimmy, “is getting him to do what he

should have wanted to do in the first place. Don’t consider any-

thing we’re discussing as an act of vengeance, Noah. Think of it

more as . . . an incentive.”

Bart suddenly spoke up. “You can’t give
Stars
to Quinn for his birthday. It will ruin it.”

“Don’t worry,” came the reply. “As far as everyone is concerned,

the rest of the DVDs arrived as scheduled, but
When the Stars Come
Out
is on back order.”

They agreed. As Jimmy was about to leave the table, Bart said,

“It’s a good thing we took a look at
Stars
before you gave it to Quinn.

This could have been a disaster.”

A wry smile crossed the older man’s face. “Quinn isn’t the only

one who values our one moment together on the screen.” He stood

and walked to the door, intending to join his husband for a restful night in front of the television set. But before he left the room, he turned to face Noah and Bart. “With luck and work, you’ll understand one day.”

A few nights later, as they prepared for bed, Bart looked at Noah

and said, “I think you’re wrong.”

“About what?”

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R o b B y r n e s

Bart climbed into bed and pulled the sheets over him. “About

long-term monogamy. I’ve been thinking about that a lot since we

talked the other day, and I’ve decided you’re wrong.”

Noah smiled. “
You’ve
decided? Well . . . thanks for that.” He, too, climbed into bed, and pulled some of the sheets away from Bart for his own use. “But I’m not wrong.”

Bart pulled back on the sheets. “I think I want what Quinn and

Jimmy have.”

“Ugh.” This time, Noah didn’t fight for the sheets. Instead, he

turned to face away from Bart. “Listen, I’m sure what they have is very nice, but I’m not convinced it’s for me. It’s not for
most
gay men. Hell . . . it’s not even for most
straight
men.”

“So lifelong monogamy is only for women?”

Noah pushed his face into the pillow. “I don’t know. I don’t try

to speak for women.” When Bart didn’t reply, he turned to look at

him. “Why do we have to talk about this?”

Bart’s voice was soft. “Because sometimes I wonder what the rest

of my life will be like.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“I look at Quinn and Jimmy, and I see two people who love each

other, and have been there to support each other. They’ve done it

for decades, and—who knows?—maybe they’ll be there for each

other for another couple of decades. And I look at them, and I

wonder who will be there with me when I’m seventy or eighty, and

I need a new hip, or a ride to physical therapy, or even just a hug.”

“You can hire someone. Like they hired you.”

“For that hug, Noah? For love? It’s not the same.”

Noah sighed and began to roll back away from Bart, but stopped

himself. Staring at the ceiling, he said, “You know what I think when I look at them?”

“What?”

“I think, ‘God bless you.’ Which is the same thing I think when I

see my father with Tricia.
God Bless You.
Good job. Maybe the first one didn’t work out . . . or the second . . . but good job on landing the third one, and good luck with her.”

“You’re very cynical tonight.”

“No, baby,” Noah said, turning to look at him. “Not cynical. Real-

istic. Happiness is . . . well, it doesn’t come with guarantees.”

“Nothing does.”

W H E N T H E S T A R S C O M E O U T

191

“Can’t we just take this nice and slowly? Can’t we take things as

they come along, without wondering what life will be like in forty years? I mean, we’ve only known each other for a month and a half

or so. Then suddenly we’re boyfriends . . . and now you’re already planning the wedding. I know it worked for your parents, but it

doesn’t work for me. It’s all going by too quickly.”

“Yeah,” Bart said tersely, and this time it was he who turned away.

Bart did know that their relationship was fresh . . . maybe too

fresh to sustain such a deep discussion. But he also knew that he

had found the man he wanted to pick him up at the hospital when

it was time to go home after his hip was replaced.

And he wondered when Noah would know that, and
if
he would ever know that, well into the night.

At his intimate birthday party a few days later, held in a quaint

Sag Harbor restaurant, Quinn was delighted to receive the package

of DVDs from Jimmy.

“Oh, great,” he exclaimed, looking over the titles. “
The Fresh Kills
!

That was my first film!” He leafed through the cases. “
Attack on
Tottenville
. . . that was the one I made with Wayne.
Port Richard
. . .

Mariner’s Harbor
. . .” He came across the movies from the Kitty Randolph boxed set, unboxed by Jimmy to hide the fact that one

title was missing. “
Sweet Svetlana
. . .
Darling, I’m Darling
. . .”

He stopped abruptly, a look of confusion on his face. Jimmy,

Bart, and Noah leaned forward expectantly.

“Where’s
When the Stars Come Out
? Hasn’t that been rereleased? I mean, all these other movies are out . . .”

“Back-ordered,” the three men answered in unison, and, so over-

whelmed was Quinn by the gift, it never occurred to him to ask how all three of them would know that.

That night they sipped champagne and watched Young Quinn

Scott take a bullet for the Duke in
Attack on Tottenville
, knowing he would rise from the dust to fight again.

In fact, they knew that would be happening quite soon.

After the movie, Bart and Noah—slightly buzzed from the cham-

pagne—excused themselves from the screening room and made

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R o b B y r n e s

their way upstairs to Bart’s bedroom, where, for the fourth straight night, Bart proceeded to strip off his clothes, climb into bed, and roll his body away from Noah. Unlike the other nights, this time

Noah stopped him, placing a hand gently on his shoulder and