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I threw my hands up in defeat and started to look around. The work displayed was an eclectic mix of modern, abstract, and traditional art; complete with everything from sculptures to paintings to collages.

They really seemed to have something for everyone, although I couldn’t help but wonder if the athletic couple in the window might not put off the more conservative folks. We did find one more statue on a plat-form in the back of the gallery. Once again, it was life-sized and erotic, but this one was of two men. One was standing facing the viewer and the other stood behind him with his arms around him in an intimate and touching embrace as he kissed his neck.

Once again, we were all struck silent at first. Asher was the first to break the mood. “My God, he’s hung like a horse,” he whispered loudly.

We all cracked up. I thought for sure Mr. Armani would come running, but we actually made it out of the gallery without running into His Stuffiness again.

“Well, what did you think?” Aidan asked, as we walked back to the car.

“I think I wanna try that!” Asher said with a leer directed at Killian.

“Not about that you perve.” Aidan laughed. “About the gallery.”

“I thought it was really cool but kinda stuffy,” Killian volunteered.

“I think that sums it up pretty well,” I agreed, “especially that stuffed suit.”

“Stuffed Armani suit,” Aidan corrected me, “and I 75

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agree too.”

We all turned to look at Asher.

“I’m horny!” he announced happily.

When we got back to the apartment, Asher and Killian came in only long enough to grab their bags before they had to leave to get home.

“So how are you doing? I’ve been thinking a lot about what we talked about last night,” Aidan asked as soon as they were gone.

“You and me both,” I said with a sigh. “I’m okay I guess.”

“Have you come to any conclusions?”

“No, and I don’t think I will. Not right now anyway.

I’m just going to let it slide for now. There’s no reason I have to make up my mind right this second.”

“Ignoring it isn’t going to make it go away.”

“Thank you, Dr. Ruth.”

“No, really. I mean it’s your decision, but for your own sake I don’t think you should put it off too long.”

“Or what? I’ll self-destruct?”

Aidan looked thoughtful. “Maybe. It wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened.”

Before I could pursue that intriguing line of thought further, a knock came at the door. I was closer so I answered it. It was Joey.

“Hey, Will,” he said. “I haven’t been able to get up with you all week. What’s up?”

“I, uh—you know, with moving and work and stuff…”

“Can I come in?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” I stepped back to allow him in, shutting the door behind him.

“Hey, Aidan!” he said.

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“Hiya, Joey. Hey, I’ll be in my room on the computer if anyone needs me,” he said as he left the room.

“I came by earlier but no one answered the door,”

Joey said somewhat accusingly.

“We weren’t here,” I said.

“Yeah, I figured that. Will, are you avoiding me?”

“Why would you think that?” I said evasively.

“You don’t answer my calls, you don’t call me back, and now you’re acting like you can’t wait to get rid of me.”

“I told you I’ve been busy.”

“Too busy to call your best friend?”

“Yeah well, my best friend was too busy to tell me about his new girlfriend, so it’s a little like the pot calling the kettle black.”

“Are you still mad about that? I said I was sorry. I made a mistake. Will, I really am sorry. I missed you this week.”

“You did?”

“Yes. You’re my best friend. Who else am I going to talk to about everything?”

“What about Shelley?”

“We’ve been going out three weeks; I’ve known you for eighteen years.”

I sighed. “I missed you too.”

“I thought you were busy.”

I grinned and he playfully punched me in the arm.

We moved over to the furniture and sat down to continue talking. He ended up staying until about eleven that night. After a while, Aidan came out and joined us watching a movie on TV and talking. I went to bed that night thinking that maybe things didn’t have to change so much after all. Little did I know.

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***

I didn’t have to wait long. “Lucy, I’m home,” he called as he burst through the door, sounding eerily like Ricky Ricardo.

“Hey, dinner is at six.”

“Cool, then I have time for a shower. Guess who I just met?”

“Uh—Fred & Ethel?”

He chuckled. “No, but you’re close. Guess again.”

“I give up.”

“You give up too easily. I met another one of our neighbors, name of Mr. Morris. He’s in the first door to the left of the elevator. He’s in the hall with a trash bag when I get off the elevator and he says, and I quote, ‘I hope you two boys aren’t fucking faggots. This is a re-spectable building.’”

“Oh my God! What did you say?”

“I said, ‘Hello, nice to meet you too. My name is Aidan Scott.’ And he goes, ‘Morris, Jim Morris. You can call me Mr. Morris.’ So I said, ‘All right, Mr. Morris, it was nice meeting you. Have a nice day, and oh, by the way, we prefer fucking queers.’”

I felt my mouth drop open as Aidan collapsed into a chair, quite pleased with himself.

“You didn’t really say that did you,” I asked when I finally found my voice.

“Yes! You should have seen his face!”

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“I can’t believe you actually said that.”

“Oh, loosen up, Will. It felt great. You should try it sometime.”

“I don’t think I will.”

“Suit yourself. You don’t know what you’re missing.

I’m gonna go take that shower now.”

He was back out shortly, freshly showered and wearing a tropical print shirt and khakis.

“That is one ugly shirt,” I couldn’t help but say.

Aidan grinned. “You’re just jealous ’cause you don’t got cool clothes like me. Is my client ready for his first business dinner?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Good, let’s go.”

We walked across the hall and tapped on Nikki’s door. She answered it almost immediately wearing a brightly colored sarong with a matching scarf wrapped around her head like a turban. She looked like a white Eryka Badu.

“Aidan, I love your shirt!” she said. “Come on in.”

The first thing we saw as we stepped in was the life-sized statue of a mermaid and merman wrapped around each other with their heads thrown back in apparent ecstasy. It was sitting in the middle of what should have been the living room but Nikki apparently used as her studio. I guess we now knew who the sex-crazed artist was.

Nikki followed our gaze. “Like it? I just finished it last night. I haven’t gotten it out of here yet. You’ll have to excuse the mess.”

“It’s very life-like,” Aidan said carefully.

“I use live models for the initial sittings. I do a small clay model and some sketches that I then use to create 79

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the statues.”

“Where do you find fresh mer-people this time of year?” Aidan asked.

Nikki laughed. “I have my sources. This piece is most likely already sold. I just have to get it to the gallery so they can see it.”

“How do you get it out of here?” I asked.

“The elevator.”

“Isn’t it too heavy?”

“It’s nowhere near as heavy as it looks. It’s hollow for one thing. More importantly though, it isn’t really bronze. It’s recycled aluminum that I paint with a me-tallic paint and then age and oxidize it.”

“Cool.”

“While we’re talking shop are those your paintings?”

“Yeah.” I held out the stack.

She took them and began to look through them carefully. She went through the stack of about fifteen paintings twice, then pulled out four, stood them on the couch, and stepped back. After a few more minutes of scrutinizing, she put one back in the pile and handed the rejected pieces back to me.

“These,” she said. She had chosen three of my most unusual pieces, a study of a door on an abandoned house, a window of another abandoned house and an architectural detail of an old country church.

“Are you sure?” I asked. I was somewhat dubious.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“We went to the gallery yesterday,” I told her. “Are you sure these will—fit in?”

“Oh God, you must have met Derrick.”

“Would that be the guy with the stick up his butt and wearing an Armani suit?” Aidan asked.

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“That would be him.” Nikki sighed. “Derrick is my brother and part owner of Avant Guard. We have somewhat differing ideas about how the place should be run.

And the very reason I like these pieces is because they aren’t like the other things we have. You don’t want to blend in, Will, you want to stand out.”

Considering how I’d spent most of my life trying desperately to blend in and not stand out, I was still somewhat unconvinced. She must have been able to tell by my expression.

“Have you ever seen one of your paintings framed and matted?”

“No.”

“Do you mind if I have these done?”

“No.”

“Good, then come by the gallery—um—Saturday and see what you think then.”

“Okay,” I agreed.

“Dinner’s ready,” a voice called from the kitchen.

Aidan and I turned confused looks toward the strange voice and then to Nikki.

“That’s my boyfriend, Sam. He cooks. I hope you like vegetable lasagna.”

“I guess we’re about to find out,” Aidan quipped.

It turned out to be delicious and Sam was just as interesting as Nikki was. He had long curly brown hair, which he had pulled back into a ponytail, intense blue eyes, a goatee, and two silver hoop earrings in each ear.

He looked a lot younger than Nikki, not much older than Aidan and I in fact, but after my miscalculation with Nikki’s age, I wasn’t making any assumptions.

Turned out I was right though, he was only two years older than Aidan and he was a senior at Pemberton. He 81

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and Nikki had met when he answered her ad in the paper for a live model. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was the model who was “hung like a horse” as Asher had so elegantly put it. I kept taking what I hoped were surreptitious glances at his crotch whenever he stood up, but it was impossible to tell with his baggy jeans.

We also learned that Nikki specialized in erotic art and was beginning to gain an international name for herself. Her father, Giovanni Avanti, had been a world-renowned art expert and critic. He had retired to the Eastern Shore, where his wife was originally from, and opened the gallery in his later years. It had been building to a very successful international business when he died of a heart attack. Nikki and her brother, Derrick, had inherited the business jointly. She struck me as a slightly spoiled young woman, but very likeable none-theless.

The rest of the evening passed by enjoyably and we left around nine having made two new friends.

The week went by uneventfully; there were no more run-ins with our neighbor, Mr. Morris, and we met our other neighbors without incident. Joey, Shelley, Laura, and Gabe came over one night and watched rented movies and that too went over well. I was careful to pay more attention than usual about my feelings and reactions to Joey, and it gave me food for thought. Aidan and I continued to grow closer and I was fast coming to think of him as one of my best friends. I wondered what effect if any it would have on my friendship with Joey, which despite the movie night, continued to grow ever more distant.

Saturday finally arrived. I dressed in a button-down shirt and nice jeans and drove downtown once again, 82

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this time without anyone else.

Today, loud Celtic music flowed out of the open door of Avant Guard and drifted down the brick plaza. When I walked in I spotted Nikki right away; she was hard to miss. Her hair was a purplish-red color and she was wearing a matching t-shirt dress that was cinched at the waist with a length of chain with a padlock on one hip. Clunky black grandma shoes and dangly silver earrings completed the outfit. She was busy hanging a painting as I approached and didn’t notice me. I looked over her shoulder and gasped when I saw what she was hanging. It was one of mine.

She spun around at my gasp, knocking the painting crooked on its hanger. “Oh, Will! You startled me. I didn’t hear you come in. What do you think? Looks different huh?”

Did it ever! I hardly recognized it. I couldn’t believe the difference a mat and frame could make. “Wow!”

was all I could manage.

“You know you done good when you impress yourself,” she said with a chuckle.

“It’s not that—” I said quickly but she cut me off.

“Of course it is. Every artist feels the same way the first time they see their work displayed properly. There’s a bit of vanity in it, sure, but that’s only natural. Call it pride of ownership or something like that.”

“It just looks so different. Did you do anything to it?”

“I would never tamper with someone else’s work. It’s all yours, kiddo. All I did was stick a mat and frame on it. There’s your other two,” she said pointing them out.

Once again, I found myself in awe at the way they had turned out. Nikki seemed to be enjoying every second of my reaction.

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“Nikki!” A male voice bellowed, “Why are there mermaids having sex in my office? Oh, excuse me, Mr.

Keegan wasn’t it?” It was Derrick.

“They’re not mermaids; it’s one mermaid and one merman. And they’re in your office because a potential buyer is on their way here and your office is bigger than mine. It’s what you get for claiming the bigger office. I understand you two have met.”