Chapter Text
The thing about it all is, is it was never without complication.
Most people in my situation might think of your parent’s partner as a stepparent, may even call them Dad or Pa or Pops. I had my Mom and Ma, after all, though I used either interchangeably at times without thinking about it. Point is, my family life was complicated, and I knew from an early age that I wasn’t like the other sticky fingered, rosy-cheeked children I was forced to spend playdates with.
I also hated those other kids. But that’s getting into a different situation.
What I guess I’m trying to say is, is that Justin was Justin. And it worked. I knew Justin was there the day I was born, I knew that he had essentially chosen my name and I knew that he was the only man my Dad ever loved. I knew he was a successful artist that had boring art shows that I had to attend in scratchy suits at least two or three times a year and that he liked Toronto more than I did. He even had a show a few miles from our place that we lived in for the first six years after the move. I remember Mom, well, Linds, as you know her, fussing over my tie as she prattled on about what a big deal this was for Justin and that some curator would be there with connections in London, Gus, London!
I also remember the phone call with Dad an hour before, two hours after he was supposed to arrive.
“I have a meeting I can’t get away from, Sonny Boy,” he drawled, voice scratchy from what I thought was a cold then but know now was probably a day long binge of pot and Jim Beam. “Send my regards. Tell Justin he’s incredible, but don’t say you like something if you don’t. Act interested. Don’t be a twat.” I heard Ma gasp and shriek his name from the other line, clearly annoyed with his language as she typically was with anything that had to do with my Dad.
“Ma, can’t you let me talk to Dad by myself for like, two minutes?” I heard Mom close by her whisper something in that quiet, soothing tone she typically reserved for anytime she was around people arguing. I rolled my eyes. I never got any privacy. “I will,” I promised him. “Mom said the show will be here for another two weeks. I know he’s only coming tonight, but I’m your son, you could come to see me.”
“Who knows what the future has in store,” he mused. “Be good. Tell your moms to floss regularly. Carpet’s a bitch to get out.” Click.
“Carpet? Ma? Mom?” Click.
Remember, I hate other kids. I especially hate that I learned from the back of the school bus exactly what my dad meant by that.
I’m skipping ahead.
Justin met us at the gallery, and somehow seeing him always made me feel happy, even at 10-years old. He always looked friendly, warm, emulated this golden light where I immediately felt good being around him. He had bight hair, bright eyes, those kind of smiles you see in toothbrush ads. (Oh god, now I’m thinking of floss. Why did my dad have to ruin everything?) He wasn’t dressed in a tie like I was, which made me turn red as he looked at me with a wide grin and brushed my shoulder, complimenting how handsome I was in that that adults always did.
“Mel, Linds. Thank you for coming,” he said as he hugged them both, cheeks brushing as they took their turns greeting kissing hello. “It’s so good to see you both. And Gus, wow, you’re getting to be so tall.”
“I’m the second tallest in my class,” I had said, rather lamely, but he smiled wider anyway, looking impressed. He then knelt down to where JR was hugging at Mom’s leg, still shy around anyone other than us and her dads. She did a little twirl as he complimented her dress, holding on to her hand despite it being sticky from her juice-box.
“We wouldn’t miss it,” Ma said, sipping on her drink. She always guided me through these things. Mom was the painter and would get lost in the art, often speaking to me in a small voice about what each piece represented in a lot of funny words I didn’t know. Then Ma would pull on my hand and mouth words like Strong or Lonely, translating silently.
Like then, as I was tugging at the itchy tie, following behind my moms, JR and Justin as they talked about the last several months from when we saw each other last at Uncle Michael and Uncle Ben’s for Thanksgiving. JR was pretty well behaved as far as little kids went, as long as she had a snack in hand. Which now was the bread from some bruschetta they had served as waiters walked round, though I ate the topping off for her.
“…is important. It’s fine, he hates missing these things. I’m sure he’s more upset than anyone else that he couldn’t make it up,” Justin was saying, and I knew they were talking about Dad.
“I’ll make sure to save a copy of the Toronto Star for him,” Mom said as we stopped in front of long walls formed in a small half circle, a small table to the side with paper pamphlets where I saw some writing that said About the Artist. Just then, a man with a blue button-up and dark curly hair swept up behind Justin. He had dark brown skin and a single earring, and smiled as he wrapped his hand around Justin’s shoulder in greeting.
“You wouldn’t know where I could find the artist, would you? I heard he was going to be here,” he said in an accent that made me think of Harry Potter. (I was 10, it was my only source for British accents, okay?)
“Adam,” Justin said, pulling the man into a hug. “When did you get into town?”
“Last night. I would have called but the hotel didn’t have an adaptor and I’m afraid I left mine back home. It’s what happens when your dad catches the flu and has to cancel a trip last minute leaving barely a day to pack. Oh. I’m sorry, good evening.” He turned to my moms, holding out his hand.
Justin shook his head, like he was remembering something. “Oh, sorry. Um, Mel, Linds, this is Adam. He’s a friend from when I first moved to New York, but he’s been back in England the last couple of years. Adam, this is Melanie, Lindsay and their kids Gus and Jenny-Rebecca.”
“Ah yes, I seem to recall hearing about you lot. More like family than friends, yeah? It’s wonderful to meet you.” The adults went about introductions and I cringed as he held out his fist for me to bump. Adults.
Anyway. I won’t bore you with too much of what they talked about. Turns out Adam was the son of the art curator my mom told me about and once she learned that she shot her eyebrows up towards Justin while Ma told Adam about finally getting to work in Canada. Justin simply shrugged, and I watched as several people passed by his work, stopping to greet him and praise him. I only then really took a look, and not just because my dad told me to look interested. He seemed to have a lot of admirers, and while I thought Mom’s paintings were great, Justin’s were completely different. I couldn’t really tell what they were then, it took years for me to translate the blur of colors and lines and the implications of feelings they evoked. Perseverance. Love. Heartbreak.
“These are really cool,” I said to myself, but Justin heard and turned. “You’re really good,” I told him directly, and watched as Justin’s smile looked like it would break his face.
“Thank you, Gus,” he said warmly, and he rubbed my shoulder. “Tallest one in your class, right? I bet you’re the smartest, too.”
“I won my class spelling bee,” I said proudly, even though I knew my moms had probably already told him on one of their weekly phone calls. “But I’m not great with Math.”
“You’ll get there,” he assured. “You have two very smart moms and they told me you even taught JR how to write her own name.”
“It’s two letters,” I scoffed, to which Justin conceded with a chuckle.
“Still. Perseverance will you get you anywhere.”
It was then I saw from the corner of my eye as Adam’s hand slid to Justin’s lower back, leaning in to whisper something quietly in his ear. I only caught “already sold,” and “a lot of interest,” but I couldn’t look away from the hand. I don’t know why, but it made me sad.
My dad and Justin hadn’t been together at that point for a while, at least, the last two Thanksgivings I remembered. They always talked a lot when we’d get together with family, and from what I overheard my moms say they saw each other a lot despite living in two different cities. But I knew they had a history. I remember last Thanksgiving Uncle Emmett watching them across the room from the couch as he sat next to me, passing me another sugar cookie.
“The endless saga of Brian and Justin,” he sighed, and we both watched as Dad moved his hand across Justin’s face, presumably wiping something from his cheek from what I could see from our angle. I didn’t really know what saga meant, but I heard the quiet click of Uncle Emmett’s tongue and long sigh and knew something was… off. Justin pulled slightly away from Dad but put his palm on his chest, and was laughing at something Dad must have said. It was then that Dad put a hand on Justin’s lower back and leaned down to whisper something in his ear. I don’t know why, really, they were already secluded to their own corner of the room. Justin didn’t do anything initially, but he must have said something, because he pulled away completely this time. He reached behind himself to squeeze Dad’s hand, then walked away while still holding on until just the tips of their fingers separated.
Dad took a sip of the beer he had in his free hand, and set it down on the table near him. Only a beat later, he followed in the same direction Justin went.
“Mmhm,” Uncle Emmett said quietly into his drink.
Anyway, it probably shouldn’t have bothered me if Justin had a boyfriend. Him and Dad seemed okay with whatever they were, and Mom had promised me I could go up for a couple weeks in the summer to spend it completely with Dad, and every time we talked on the phone he sounded as happy as Dad ever sounds. I wasn’t old enough then to really remember them together together, but I knew I felt a twinge in my chest at Adam being so close to him.
“I’m sorry to pull you away from your family and admirers, but I have some things I need to tell you, if you have a moment,” Adam said, and while Ma was too busy distracting JR with a cup of water to hear, Mom was smiling widely, nodding and waving them off.
“Oh, don’t let us take you away from work. You’re in town for some time, we’ll catch up during brunch tomorrow,” Mom told Justin, kissing his cheek. “Go. It was nice to meet you Adam.”
“Pleasure’s all mine. My dad will know about your gallery the next time we talk. Thanks again for your card. Have a good night.”
I watched as Adam led Justin by his arm away from the crowd of people, close by a window that exposed the city street. He said a few words and whatever it was, Justin seemed happy to hear. He hugged Adam quickly, then pulled away while looking a bit embarrassed. A woman with a long jacket and red hair in a high bun came by and placed stickers beneath a few of his paintings, ducking under quickly while the other patrons whispered and discussed his art. They sounded a lot like Mom, using weird analogies and words I didn’t know quite yet.
I turned to see what Justin and Adam were up to, but they were already gone.
Mom’s phone rang.
She touched my shoulder as she pushed by, and I turned to see Ma shrug one shoulder while leading JR towards the bathroom.
“Left all on your own, then?” Came a voice near me, and I jumped a little, not expecting it. I turned and saw a smiling Adam, though Justin was no longer with him.
“It happens a lot,” I admitted, trying to sound cooler than I felt. “JR gets all the attention because she’s younger.”
He laughed, drinking some bubbly. “I’m the youngest of three and believe me, that isn’t always a good thing. You like art?”
“I like Justin,” I said, itching at my neck. I really hated ties. “Are you his boyfriend?”
He blinked, seemingly taken aback. “His…?” He turned around, possibly looking for Justin. When no familiar blond could be found amongst the sea of gallery attendants, he looked back at me with a sheepish grin. “No, I can’t say we’re boyfriends. Old acquaintances more like.”“What’s ac- acquant-“ I couldn’t get the word to fit my mouth.
“Friends. Just friends.”
Mom came back at that point, snapping her phone shut and putting it back in her purse. She made polite conversation with Adam while Ma and JR were pushing us through the rest of the gallery as the crowd around Justin’s work grew larger. Adam stuck around for a bit, talking to Mom more about her own art before he was pulled away by some old couple in matching grey suits. We saw Justin making his own rounds, flitting around like a butterfly from flower to flower. He nestled in a corner for a while, elbow resting on a stained brown table as patrons seemed to soak in everything he said like baby birds for food. I liked Justin, I liked his smile and kindness and that he always seemed interested in what I had to say. But on our way out, as we waved to him across the room, I saw Adam slide back to him, handing him a glass of the same bubbly drink he had earlier. They touched glasses, and there was something in the way Adam looked at him that caused my stomach to turn.
He looked at Justin like he was the art.
~*~
Okay, so I’m going to pause here. You know how this ends, otherwise you probably wouldn’t be reading. Dad and Justin loved one another, and everyone knew it.
But life had a way of trying to keep them apart.
And readers, when I was 10-years old, I had my first memory of when life did its best to do this. I just want to warn you, it was hard to see then, but looking back I’m glad I was too young to really comprehend the many layers that went into what happened the day after the opening of Justin’s art show.
Okay, so, here’s how it went down.
~*~
It was a Saturday afternoon when Mom and Ma were setting the table for brunch. They brought out the lacy tablecloth that smelled like the attic for the special occasion, since Justin was coming over and all. Ma made some kind of goat cheese frittata while Mom was working on mixing some alcohol into orange juice. The whole morning was spent with them barking order at me to put this here or that there. I took very careful steps as I put the plates on the table, Ma’s voice of those are expensive plates, Gus, be cautious in my head. I also learned, a bit begrudgingly, that Justin’s acquaintance Adam would be joining us.
As usual, JR was the young and cute one so she didn’t really have to do any work.
She followed close behind me the whole time, singing the Caillou theme song for the 7th time that day.
Mom had been acting off, like that time we surprised Ma with a birthday cake JR and I helped bake. She seemed distracted, mumbling about moving the succulent outside and having to retrace her steps three times when she was supposed to put the flower arrangement at the center of the table. She also had her phone clasped in her hand the whole time, which was unique to her. She was usually always misplacing her phone, leaving it in JR’s room or in the key bowl.
The doorbell rang and we all kind of froze. Justin said he’d be arriving around 11am, and while it was 10:30am according to the oven display, we still had the final touches to put on the table.
Mom tugged at her blouse, smile tight. “I’ll get it,” she said. “Mel, the scones should just about be finished. Do you want to put them on the platter and I’ll bring Justin and Adam to the sitting room? I’m sure they won’t mind waiting while we finish.”
“You’ve got it,” Ma said, wiping her hands on the front of her trousers. “Come on sweetie,” she said to JR, reaching out her hand to my sister. “Let’s get some juice.”
I heard Mom’s voice out by the entrance followed by a lower, more mellow voice. It was muffled, quiet from the distance, but I knew it didn’t sound like Justin. It was familiar, however, almost like…
“Sonny Boy!” Soon followed, as from the doorway to the dining area came my Dad with his arms stretched out, Mom hiding a smile behind her fingers right near him.
“Dad!” I ran to him, hugging his waist tight. He had a white t-shirt with his usual leather jacket, though his hair was a bit shorter from last I saw. It also looked like hadn’t shaved in a couple of days, and his eyes were a bit puffy and weary. He smelled like cigarettes and cologne, and exactly like I had remembered. Just like… Well, Dad.
“Look at what the cat dragged in,” came Ma’s voice from the opposite entrance that led to the kitchen. JR bounced on her feet behind Ma’s legs, holding on to her thigh and giggling when Dad waved to her.
“Now Mel,” Dad said, smirking as he rubbed the top of my head, “you know I’ve never been affiliated with any pussy,” my Mom cleared her throat, “cat,” he finished.
“Turns out Ted was able to negotiate with the airline to get Brian’s ticket pushed back a day,” Mom said from behind us as she pushed her way in, going back to putting out the dishes. “He called last night and I thought it would be a nice surprise for Gus. And Justin."
“I’ll get an extra set of dishes,” Ma said with a sigh, turning back to the kitchen. “Welcome in, Brian,” she said, though it didn’t exactly sound welcoming.
“Dad, can I show you my new softball gloves,” I asked, tugging at his wrist. “Oh, and remember Jason my friend from Hebrew school? Well, turns out he broke his arm jumping off a tree so now he can’t do anything and I have to-“
“Gus, sweetie, I know you’re excited to see your Dad but he just got in. Maybe help Ma finish setting up brunch so he can get settled?” Mom rubbed my shoulder and I looked up at Dad, hoping he’d disagree. But he didn’t get a chance, because Ma must have heard and was yelling from the kitchen for me. Not fair.
Dad just laughed, shrugging off his jacket. “I’d be happy to see your new gloves, Sonny Boy, but I don’t want to get in trouble with your Moms for pulling you away. I’d go help before your Ma turns us all into stone.” Mom sighed behind him and I nodded, running to the kitchen to see what Ma needed.
It didn’t take long to finish, and Dad somehow got roped into keeping JR company while we set all the food out. Somehow I never thought I’d see Dad holding a Barbie doll, but not many people could resist JR when said pwease and smiled with her two missing teeth.
Just as we put the last of the cups out there was another doorbell. I saw Dad suddenly sit straighter from where he had been slouched on the couch, lazily waving the doll back and forth to JR’s great delight. He dropped the doll then put his hand on his knee, only to clench then go to his jean pocket then back to his knee.
Mom flung the door open and sure enough, there was Justin and Adam. Mom pulled Justin into a warm hug and then offered a hug to Adam as well, despite just meeting him the night before. He accepted and returned however, and offered her a small wrapped bakery box in return.
“Thank you for the invite,” he said at last, as they toed off their shoes at the door. “You have a beautiful home,” he noted. Ma came up at that time and welcomed them both as well, and from the corner of my eye I saw Dad stand up from the couch, licking his lips. JR busied herself with taking the doll he had previously had and smashing it against the Ken doll.
I waited for Dad and Justin to notice one another.
And then they did.
Justin turned around after hanging his jacket on the coatrack, nearly bumping his face into Dad’s chest as Dad walked back towards the entrance.
“Brian,” he gasped, eyes wide as his chest visibly rose and fell.
“Hey Sunshine,” Dad smiled, thumbs now tucked back into his jean pockets. “Did you notice the new ugly succulent out front?”
“Brian,” Justin simply said again, but this time he threw his arms around Dad’s neck, standing on his toes as their cheeks grazed. It took him a moment, but Dad then returned the hug, and when he did, I almost felt like I should look away. He slid one arm tight under Justin’s shirt, the other around the part of his waist that was exposed from the lifting of his top. He tucked his face into Justin’s neck, and I thought maybe I had seen him place a kiss there. They were too closely intertwined to tell for sure.
Next to them, Adam stood back watching with a small smile of his own. He scratched at his cheek, and Ma took that moment to ask him if he wanted a tour. Dad hadn’t even noticed him as they walked away.
Justin pulled back slightly, their arms still wrapped around one another. They just kind of looked at one another, like their blinking was morse code and fingers tracing letters into one another’s skin.
“Hey,” Justin said finally, and I think Dad said it back, but it was so quiet and followed by him sweeping down and capturing Justin’s lips in his own. Yeah, I definitely looked away this time, groaning out loud. Gross. I could hear the wet smack of the kissing behind me as I turned, and Justins’ long, content sigh. I cringed harder.
I was about to walk away completely when it stopped, and I heard Justin say something like wait wait wait.
“Honey, let’s get our hands washed for the food, okay?” Mom put her hand lightly on my back, pushing me away from where Dad and Justin began talking in quiet voices. I peeked behind myself briefly as we left, and saw Justin was holding Dad’s hand but was no longer smiling. Neither of them were.
I washed my hands and then helped JR wash hers, showing her how to get between her fingers and under her nails. By the time we came out everyone was seated. Ma and Mom were at the ends of the table as “proper hosts,” they once told me, with JR between Ma and myself and Dad at my other side. Mom had Dad and Justin at either side of her with Adam next to Justin and the lone empty seat on his other side. As I sat, Dad was twirling a fork in his hand absentmindedly, peering at Justin as he chatted amicably with Mom.
“Well, Adam was telling me on our way that his Dad is beginning to send him in his place more often, not just when he’s sick,” he said, and Ma had leaned across the table to say something quietly to Adam as they talked. “And because he knows my work from when we used to hang around the East Village, he knows my journey up to this point and was talking about-“ he paused, turning to wear Adam was mid-bite of quiche. “Sorry, I’m talking for you.”
“You’re excited, don’t apologize.” Adam reached over to pat Justin’s hand and Dad snorted suddenly. I looked up at him in question but he just smiled down at me. “I was simply envisioning a solo-show, perhaps a duo exhibition if the space warrants, that shows Justins’ journey in New York from ’06 to now. His story is so expressive and his art is deeply reflective. These days people are growing more focused on things that are relatable and I think he personifies growing stronger through heartbreak.”
“And what heartbreak would that be, Adam?” Dad said suddenly, and I distracted myself with folding my napkin. It was the same tone he used with Ma and Uncle Michael from time to time, and I knew it meant argument.
“Change,” Adam said simply, returning Dad’s biting grin. “Leaving everything you know. Friends, family, lovers.” He grabbed the napkin from the table and put it in his lap, not pulling away from Dad’s stare. “He was very young, as you know,” (at this point Justin grabbed Adam’s wrist and squeezed, not unlike when Mom would rub my back when she was warning me against something) “when he came to New York, and to start from essentially scratch is a scary thing. So yes, heartbreak.”
“It sounds like an incredible opportunity,” Dad said in return. “If you can make it happen.”
“Believe me, I want to. After last night’s show- you should have seen it, Brian. The turnout was incredible.”
“I had a business arrangement I couldn’t pull myself away from. But I’m here now. And I plan on going after we’re done here.” Justin was moving from his chair now, giving Adam a pointed glare before excusing himself to the bathroom. He had been here before, only a couple of times, so Ma directed him as Dad and Adam finally pulled their gazes away from one another.
“I’m sure you’ll find it’s everything you’ve come to expect from Justin,” Adam continued over a drink of his mimosa. “Point is, I know of some galleries near Justin where Dad has done an incredible amount of business over the years. I want to reintroduce myself as a primary contact and establish my own reputation outside of him while simultaneously establishing Justin as no longer Up and Coming but here and here to stay.”
“I’ve found those who use nepotism for personal gain rarely have talent of their own,” Dad started, and Mom quickly turned to slap his arm. “But the fact that you recognize Justin’s talent and that it needs to stand out more on its own shows you at least have an eye for it. And I’ll never understand why someone wouldn’t use every avenue possible to further their own success. It’s not a bad idea.”
“It’s brilliant,” Adam grinned in response, and suddenly the tight air that felt suffocating a moment ago was gone.
At that point Justin was sitting back down, glancing between Dad and Adam as if to see if any squabbling was still there. “So, what do you think?”
“I think it’s a wonderful idea,” Mom said. “Can you imagine? Not just your art being the focus but you. Oh sweetie, this could truly change everything for you.”
“If it happens,” he corrected. “First we have to get the space. And then the advertising. It can’t be a success if no one hears about it.”
Dad threw up a hand, scoffing. “And you don’t know anyone would specialize in getting word spread en masse? Anyone who would have stake in every art publication not only in in New York but all major cities across the US?”
“It would be an art show, not an opening of a blockbuster movie,” Justin laughed, cheeks pink. “And I appreciate it, truly, but we’ve talked about this. I need to make it on my own.”
“But you’ll let Mary Jane Jacob here use his resources.”
“Brian,” Justin started, but Dad didn’t let him finish his thought.
“You’ve made it. We’re all here because someone in a city hundreds of miles alway from you wanted people here to see your art. Just a few months ago you were in San Francisco. All I want is to help show it off.”
And well, that was the last of that argument.
The rest of brunch went pretty easily. I got to tell Dad about Jason and my friend Clara who had freckles that looked like bloody snow. It was cool. Every now and then Dad and Justin would just look at each other, but not really say anything. Adam at one point was set on making a connection to JR, who I’ve already told you wasn’t great with strangers. At one point a piece of egg flew across the table and into his hair, to Mom’s great embarrassment but Dad’s great amusement.
And.
Okay, I’ve always been a little nosy. I wanted to show Justin what JR had drawn earlier in the week. Get a professional opinion, you know? Except when I went to go to the seating area where I saw him last it was just him and Dad sitting on the couch. I chose instead to the other side of the wall near the door but where I wasn’t in their line of vision.
“…can’t keep going back pretending things are okay or normal,” Justin was saying, voice sounding a little wet and frustrating, like he had been crying. “I love you. I love you more than I did yesterday and less than I will tomorrow. And every time we meet up again I’m happier than I remember I could feel. And then you leave, or I do and…” He laughed, but it sounded bitter. “Brian, you can’t tell me this doesn’t hurt.”
“And what else do you propose? I’ve already told you I’d go to New York.”
“And Ted told me Kinnetik wouldn’t be financially able to expand for another two years. And even then, your clients count on you being there. I can’t ask you to risk something that you worked so hard to achieve. How many times do we have to go over this?”
“Fuck the clients. Fuck Ted for talking to my- for talking to you about this-“
Justin snorted. “Your what, Brian?”
The clock ticked above me. I heard Adam somewhere outside, where Mom was probably showing him towards the shed where she kept her excess art. Dad didn’t reply.
“That’s what I mean. You don’t even know what I am to you, Brian, but I don’t either. This isn’t fair. To either of us.”
“Boyfriend, Partner, Almost-Husband… Why the fuck does the title matter? It works. Or, I thought it was working.” There was a quiet rustling, like cloth against cloth. Their voices grew quieter and I used my hand on the small table to balance as I leaned closer to the wall.
“It works when we’re together,” Justin said, and I heard the small kiss. “But when we’re apart, it’s kills me. Just last week my agent asked how long it had been since I saw you because she could see it in my art. And I talked to Michael, Brian. I could tell he didn’t want to say anything, so don’t get mad at him…”
“The hell I won’t,” Dad started, but Justin spoke over him.
“He said you hardly go out anymore. He said you spend hours at the office and that Ted has to make deals with the janitors to shut down the lights after 1am or you’d still be at work. He said Debbie forced you to eat an extra helping of fries when she saw how much weight you’ve lost. That even when you go to dinner at his and Ben’s you only really smile when they talk about me or Gus.”
“I think I liked it better when you two hated each-other,” Dad said, and that annoying twinge in my chest happened again. Why was Dad working so hard? And why did it sound like Justin might be breaking things off when everyone told me they weren’t even together?
“Brian. Please. Look at me. He also told me about Kyle.”
Wait. Who?
“Sounds like Mikey needs to learn how to shut his big fucking mouth shut,” Dad replied angrily, and I wish I could see what was happening. I suddenly remembered the mirror that was on the opposite wall of them, and if I crept to the turn of the hall and leaned just so- oh. There. I watched the small image of them in the mirror where Justin had his hand on Dad’s shoulder, their knees still touching and Dad was looking directly forward. I ducked, as if that would help anything, as I thought he might have seen my own reflection. But he didn’t do anything to suggest that he had.
“I know that you never wanted a relationship, and that I broke every rule you had in your Brian Kinney Rules to Life handbook, but I want you to-“ he swallowed audibly. “I want you to at least have a friend who knew you after.” (he didn’t say after what, I noticed, but couldn’t ask for obvious reasons. Spying, and all.) “And if that’s a friend you fuck sometimes, then okay. And who knows, if there’s a connection, then I want you to go for it.”
“I don’t need a boyfriend, Sunshine. You were enough for a lifetime,” Dad said, which I couldn’t tell was a compliment or not. “And besides, I don’t do set-ups. Especially by people like Ben, who only know other boring people. And he isn’t that hot. So, sorry, but, not interested.”
“And when you leave Toronto, what happens? You go back to the office, maybe hit the club, and then what? Because I know what I’ll do. I’ll paint, create something, go to a show and meet people and go out and dance if it’s a Friday. And I’ll miss you. I’ll wait for you to call and if it goes too long I’ll call you. I’ll miss you in every moment you’re not with me. I’ll ignore the guys who ask me to dinner or want to fuck me because I’ll think it’s nothing compared to when we’re together.”
“No one ever asked you to be monogamous,” Dad intruded, using one of them any words I didn’t know yet. “And I’ll be fine. I always am. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“And that’s the problem, you’ll be fine. I want you to be more than fine, Brian. Don’t you get it? We can’t do this because every time we’re apart all we can do is wait for the next time we’re not.”
Dad finally looked back at Justin, his smile small. “Did your agent really notice a difference in your art?”
“Yes,” Justin said, reaching out to run the back of his hand down Dad’s cheek. “I miss you. Even now, when we’re together, I’m missing you. Because all I can think is, is that this is temporary.”
“This is it, then,” Dad said, grabbing Justin’s hand and bringing it to his lips with a kiss. “The whole purpose of you going out on your own was so I wouldn’t hold you back. And here I am, doing exactly that.”
“You’re not holding me back so much as motivating every single piece I do,” Justin said gently. “If anything, you’ve given me enough motivation to fill the entire Met.”
“But it would be a depressing theme. And it wouldn’t be that if I weren’t in the picture.”
Justin barely moved his head, the faintest of shakes. “And if you weren’t thinking of me, you could move forward. Be Brian fucking Kinney, King of Liberty Avenue and the greatest Ad Man in Pittsburgh. Maybe fucking some boring, not that hot guy named Kyle.” Dad laughed at that, but time seemed to still as they simply gazed at one another.
“We’ll still see each other. But no more fucking, no more invisible ties, no more waiting. What it should have been in the first place,” Dad said, his own voice now sounding tighter. “And no more turning down dinner from men that could further your career. Or your love life. I know Adam hasn’t stopped looking at you since you’ve arrived. Well, whenever he’s not trying to kill me with his mind powers like Professor X.”
Justin laughed, shaking his head. “I take it you’ve been reading Mikey’s comics?”
“Please,” Dad rolled his eyes. “He just made me watch the trailer for the new movie. Fassbender is hot.”
“I don’t-“ Justin said suddenly. “I don’t want to stop what we have. But I know we need it.”
“Would it be too much to ask for this last night to be in my hotel room at the Fairmont? I’d hate to send you off without the memory of the best you’ll ever have.” He winked, Justin rolled his eyes, but they kissed nonetheless. This was my cue to walk away.
Before my Dad left, he leaned down to ruffle my hair once more. “Next time you want to listen in on a conversation,” he whispered, “remember to hide before you’re seen.” Oops.
Although Justin had arrived with Adam, he had left with Dad.
But several months later, I heard Mom on the phone with Justin as she was pulling weeds from the garden box. He was on speaker phone.
“I had a feeling Adam had a crush,” she said as she balanced the phone against the window ledge. “How many dates has it been, then?”
“Just a few,” Justin said. “But when we went clubbing last week, and this really cute guy tried to kiss him, he told him he was seeing someone.”
“Is that so? And what did you think of that?”
“I don’t know,” Justin admitted. “I haven’t tried dating since Brian. Even now I feel like I’m doing something wrong. Like I’m cheating on him. I mean, it’s probably leftover guilt from You Know Who.”
She laughed as she threw more weeds behind herself, glancing over to where JR was smashing some flowers against rocks to make ‘perfume.’ “Don’t feel guilty, Justin. You and Brian need to move forward, not look back. You should have a partner who you can go home to after a hard day, a partner you can experience your new experiences with. For him, too! You can still be friends, after all we’ll always see one another during holidays or celebrations.”
“How is he? Be honest, Linds. Michael says he’s doing better but after last time I don’t know if he’s just saying that.”
“Gus spent a couple weeks with him last month and said they had a great visit. Didn’t you, Gus?”
“Hi, Gus,” Justin said, probably unaware I had been helping the whole time.
“Hi, Justin,” I said back. “Dad’s doing great! He took almost the whole time off work! And when he had to go his friend Kyle took me to the zoo.” Mom suddenly stopped weeding and leaned back on her legs, hand wiping across her forehead. Justin didn’t say anything at first, and I thought maybe he hung up. “Justin?”
“That’s great, Gus,” he said, and his voice almost sounded too bright. “I’m glad you had a good time.”
“Gus, honey, can you take your sister inside to clean up? We should start getting ready for lunch, soon.” She wiped her gloved hands on her pant leg and motioned her eyes towards the phone, and I suddenly remembered Dad and Justins’ talk from when they were last up. Foot. Meet Mouth.
Mom didn’t say anything to Justin while I went to take JR’s hand and bring her inside.
So, like I said. Things were a bit complicated.