A Kind of Romance (30 page)

“Dad?”

The door swung open wide. My father and I stared at each other in surprise for a few seconds. I regained composure first, gesturing for him to let me in. He stepped aside and locked up again before following me into the storeroom.

“What are you doing here?” we asked simultaneously.

“I’m working. What are you doing?” He cocked his head and studied me thoroughly as though searching for clues.

“Working? You’re not supposed to be working! The doctor said to slow down on the early shifts and—how did you get here? Does Abe know you’re here?”

I pulled my cell from my pocket and immediately started to punch a terse message to my brother. So much for winning my man back. My brain was struggling with the sudden change in focus. I expected to surprise Benny, not deal with a stubborn seventy-two-year-old man. All this before a decent cup of coffee. Not good.

“Put that away. Don’t bother Abraham. He has a wife and family to worry about. He doesn’t need to worry about me.”

I couldn’t tell if that was a not-so-subtle dig at my bachelorhood or if I was reading too much into the throwaway comment. I elected to let it go and find out what the hell he was up to instead.

“We all worry about you.”

“Is that why you’re here?” He gave me a dubious look before heading to the coffee machine.

“Well, no, but—”

“I didn’t think so. Want some?”

“Sure.”

My father’s coffee wasn’t the best, but the caffeine would help clear the cobwebs. The storefront’s lights were still off, which meant the only people in the building were my dad, the baking staff, and me. Since I knew Benny hadn’t learned how to actually make a bagel from scratch yet, it was safe to assume he wasn’t here. And probably wasn’t coming. I felt a new wave of defeat as I shrugged my coat from my shoulders and carefully draped it over the plastic chair at the small kitchenette table.

Dad handed me a mug and motioned for me to sit before gingerly taking the seat opposite me. He looked tired but good. We eyed each other warily as we sipped our coffee in silence. I could hear someone banging around in the kitchen next door. The delicious smells combined with the familiar sounds enveloped me like a warm hug. I could almost hear my mother humming softly nearby. I took another sip and firmly willed myself not to drift down memory lane.

Dad set his mug aside with a smile. “What brings you here, son?”

“You first.”

“There’s nothing to tell. I’m here to work the early shift with Filipe, who should be here in—” He glanced at the old-fashioned black-and-white office clock across the room. “—fifteen minutes and—”

“Being here alone is not a good idea.”

“I’m not alone. The kitchen staff—”

“What if something had happened? What if—?”

“I have a cell phone and a landline. Same as I do at the house. Nothing happened. I know many people, including you, who live close by. And I even know how to dial 9-1-1. See? I’m all grown up!”

“Very funny. Sue me for worrying,” I replied, managing to sound like an old Jewish mother.

My father chuckled gleefully and patted my hand. “Thank you for your concern. But I’m fine. Save your worry for when I’m very old and decrepit. Now tell me what you’re up to. It must be Benjamin, because you haven’t willingly stepped foot in this store in years.”

“I’m here all the time!”

“Don’t get defensive, but be honest. You come when I ask you for a favor… or to visit Benjamin. I didn’t call you, and Benjamin isn’t here so—”

“I thought he might be,” I mumbled.

“What happened? Is this why you missed dinner again?”

I shook my head and then took another drink before setting my mug down. Time to go, I mused. I needed to get to my office and regroup. I’d try to find Benny at lunchtime. Maybe Rand and William would know where to find him or—

“Ezekiel, talk to me.”

“No offense, but you don’t want to know. My problem is a little gay, Dad.”

“Okay by me.”

I stared at his earnest face, torn between growing anxiety based on ancient fear and the desperate need to salve the gaping wound in my heart. This didn’t make sense. Everything here felt, smelled, and sounded like a remnant from my childhood, but this man gently coaxing a story from me… I didn’t recognize him, and I couldn’t help feeling skeptical.

“I can’t do this with you. I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“Because it matters too much.”

“You don’t trust me,” he stated simply.

“About most things, yes. But this isn’t something we’re ever going to do, Dad. I can’t—”

“Are you ever going to forgive me?” he asked quietly.

I let the silence speak for me when I realized I couldn’t answer him truthfully with a simple yes or no. His earnest expression demanded honesty. It would be easiest to give a flippant remark assuring him that everything was cool. I was cool. He was cool. This was just a typical Monday morning, and we were like any other ordinary father and son sharing a cup of coffee before work.

Whether he meant to or not, Benny had ripped the bandage from an old wound. He’d called me out on my insecurities, astutely recognizing my intense desire to win as the product of an unhealthy compulsion to prove I’d risen above my father’s rule. I was smarter and had more money and material comfort than my dad. I was successful by anyone’s definition. But it was never enough. Benny was right. I was caught in a web of my own making, driven by a childish compulsion to come out on top at all cost. As tempting as it was to blame my father’s inability to deal with his sensitive gay son during his teenage years, I was a big boy now. And the little old man sitting across the table with a sad but hopeful gaze wasn’t the monster I’d made him out to be.

But old habits died hard, and that word sounded like nails running down a chalkboard.

“Forgiveness. You say it like it’s so easy.” My sarcasm cut through the air like a vicious sword. I could practically hear the hiss of a blade.

“I don’t assume it’s easy. I don’t assume I’ve earned it. I only hope—”

“Stop it!” I thundered. I bolted from my chair and strode with purpose to the sink. My hands trembled as I set my coffee cup on the counter. Fuck. This wasn’t supposed to happen. The room was suddenly too warm. I plucked at the collar of my expensive oxford shirt and chanted a soothing litany in my head, warning myself to pull it together.

The absence of sound filled the space between us like a rowboat taking on water in the open sea. We were a sinking boat. Perhaps we always had been. Fate assigned you the family you were born into. We didn’t choose each other. It was cruel in a way. We had nothing in common aside from mutual family members and friends. We didn’t look or act alike. We didn’t care for the same music or types of movies. When I was a kid, we had baseball, but that was something I shared with my brothers and Carter now. I couldn’t sit still for more than two minutes with him before bad memories overtook the good and I was left with a visceral anger I couldn’t seem to shake. Every nerve in my body screamed a warning not to buy the act. Not to give in. Not to let down my guard.

“You want forgiveness? You want me to forget the Jekyll-and-Hyde routine you played when I was growing up? You want me to forget I was scared as fuck of you finding out there was something different about me? Or did you want me to forget what happened when your worst fears were confirmed? George Gulden, bagel tycoon, had a fucking queer son! That was a rough one for you, wasn’t it? That was hard to stomach. But congratulations. You handled it well. When screaming, taunting, and general terrorizing didn’t work… it was probably a good thing you resorted to physical exorcism. Do you ever ask yourself what would have happened if Mom hadn’t literally thrown her body in front of me after one of your regular customers told you they’d seen me in that fucking alley”—I pointed like a madman toward the door I’d waltzed in ten minutes before—“kissing the new college kid you hired? Now that, my friend, was a performance for the ages. I wish the Academy had seen that one. They’d have given us all Oscars. The Gulden Family’s Spectacular Meltdown! We should pitch it. Maybe we can make a dime off this fucking charade, and it won’t all be for nothing!” My voice rose and shook as I lapped the back room like a swimmer making his final dash for the wall. “You were a fucking horrible bastard, George. And fuck me, but I can’t seem to forget it.

“I’ve spent my entire life doing anything and everything I could to make sure I’m nothing like you. I thought I succeeded. I thought I had it all figured out, but look at me. I’m a fucking mess! You wanna know what’s wrong with me? I’ll tell you. In spite of everything you put me through, I can’t escape the guilt that binds me to you like fucking superglue. I wonder if there’s some part of you that will enjoy knowing I fell hard for Benny, and I lost him. I have no clue how to get him back.” I swiped both hands through my hair and stopped to give my father a piercing look. “I spent all those years hating you, while you spent them turning into some paragon of virtue. Now look at me. I’m that version of you I hated. I’m not worthy of Benny, Dad. And… the worst part is knowing I can’t blame you anymore. This is
my
fault.”

The ensuing silence was deafening. What did I expect? I was disgusted with myself. Retreat was the wisest option. This energy was better spent making a buck with my fellow heartless bastards on Wall Street.

“I’m sorry, Ezekiel. I’m sorry. I’ve said it for years, and I’ll keep saying it. I was wrong. I had ideas about how to grow a business and how to raise a family. I had a plan and a strong woman at my side. With hard work and a friendly smile, I thought anything could happen.” Dad shrugged and then took a deep breath. “I was right about everything but you. I thought I could will you to change. But I was wrong to think so.
I
was the one who had to change. Your mother lost sleep over us. I put you both through hell, thinking I was only doing my job as a husband and a parent, but I failed you, son.”

“Yeah, well—”

“I’ve spent years trying to make up for it, but I still don’t know how to convince you. I hang a rainbow flag during Pride month. I hire LGBT kids, and I work at the Midtown shelter on Sixth. I joined PFLAG ten years ago and—”

“What?”

“Yes. It’s a fantastic organization. I’d like to think I may have helped along the way, but I can only try. Maybe I’ll earn your forgiveness one day, maybe I won’t. I did everything wrong… but it wasn’t done with malice. I love you. I never wanted you to hate me.”

“I don’t hate you, Dad.” When he raised his eyebrows, I huffed humorlessly and walked to the table. “Fine. Sometimes I do. But it’s pointless. I end up feeling like shit, and rehashing the worst parts of my adolescence isn’t doing either of us a favor.”

He closed his eyes and lowered his head in a display of profound sadness. “I wish I could undo the past, son. I wish I could unsay every horrible thing I ever said. I wish I’d learned my lessons earlier and with less heartache. Maybe that one afternoon sealed my fate. I’ll always regret—”

“Stop. Please. I can’t even remember his name.”

“Todd Meisner.”

“Dad….”

“I looked him up about twelve or so years ago.”

“Why?”

“To apologize,” he replied in a matter-of-fact tone. “We met for a cup of coffee. He was very kind. He was studying Shakespeare at a small liberal-arts college. I met his boyfriend. It was… nice. I tried to tell you about it, but you didn’t want to hear. Your mother told me to let it go. She said he was my ghost, not yours.”

“Hmph. So who’s my ghost? You?”

He barked a quick laugh and smiled somewhat sadly. “Imagine that. I’m not even dead yet.”

I sighed heavily and pursed my lips. This was futile. If this dance was all we had… this space where surface kindness reigned, then so be it.

“Look, Dad, I—are you crying?” I asked in a low, concerned tone.

The old man swiped at the corners of his eyes. “I cry all the time. Don’t worry about me.”

It was true. He did. He was Hallmark’s greatest consumer. A random commercial featuring the evolution of a family or an old dog could make his eyes water in an instant. But this was different. This wasn’t the sentimental musings of someone who’d witnessed too many evolutions of his own. This was pain.

“Dad….”

“I may be the last person you want to listen to, but… stop thinking of the past and live for your future, boy. Not for material wealth, but for love. Don’t doubt your worth. You’re worthy of Benjamin if you care for him.”

“I do, but I screwed it up.” To my absolute mortification, tears stung my eyes and my voice cracked. God, I was in worse shape than I thought.

“Let me pour you some more coffee.” He stood slowly to retrieve the coffeepot. He carefully topped our mugs and then set the pot on the table between us before leaning over to pat my cheek affectionately. “Now talk to me, son.”

“Really? After everything I just screamed at you, you wanna talk?”

“Yes. If you trust me, I want to be here for you. You’re in love and—”

“I didn’t say love.”

“Then you’re lying.”

I sputtered indignantly and then threw my hands in the air. He was exasperating. I reached for my coat, but he stopped me with a look. “What?”

“Don’t lie to yourself. If you don’t have truth, honesty, and love in your life… you’ll die a poor man, Ezekiel.”

“I’m not—”

“You have money, nice things, and a beautiful home… a little cold, but it’s nice.” He held up his hand when I rolled my eyes. “But without love, they’re nothing. Let me tell you something. Will you listen?”

His steady gaze was comforting and filled with a depth of sincerity, kindness, and support I knew was mine unconditionally if I chose to claim it. At this very moment… I needed it.

I nodded. “Yes.”

“Your mother always understood you. Me? I’m not so quick. She knew you were four different boys with different needs. She understood there was more to equality than treating you all the same. Nuances weren’t my specialty. Now the Miri I knew is gone and… I’m a little lost sometimes, but I’ll be okay because I know how to love. Miri showed me how. She showed me that love isn’t just a word, it’s a way of life. I may have failed at a few things, but when my time comes, I won’t go a failure because I have loved. My family, my friends, my customers…. But my greatest love is a woman who doesn’t know me anymore. I mourn what we had every day. I’ll never get her back. If you think you’ve found something close to that with Benny… don’t waste another minute.”