Fag Hag (Robert Rodi Essentials) (29 page)

BOOK: Fag Hag (Robert Rodi Essentials)
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“That it is. Give you the grand tour later.”

“What’s behind that door there?”

“Oh, just a closet.”

“A closet with a padlock?”

“The old owner had some strange habits. Anyway, here we are. Do you know everyone? Kelly, this is Michael, David, Thomas, Joel, Brandon, and of course you know Kevin. Brandon, I mean it, turn it
down.”

“But this is my favorite! ‘But now it’s Judy’s turn to cry, Judy’s turn to cry’…’”

“Someone be a dear and get Kelly a drink.”

“Natalie, do you have any grenadine?”

“I don’t think so; will crème de cassis do? Plenty of that.”

“Hey, Natalie, who’s the print on the wall by?”

“Frida Kahlo, a very great artist. Isn’t it beautiful?”

“Can’t take my eyes off it. Is it me, or does she have a mustache?”

“Natalie, did you hear about George and Bobby? You’ll
die.”

“Oh, you
must
give me all the dirt, but can it wait a sec? Have to run to the door again…Kirk, darling! Thank you so much for coming.”

“God, Natalie, you look so
beautiful.
I haven’t seen you since Christmas, when you were
way
too thin.”

“Thank you, doll! Come in. Why—hello, Will.”

“Oh, you know Will? We’re together.”

“Yes, Kirk, Natalie and I are old friends, aren’t we, Natalie? Matter of fact, I’m surprised I didn’t get my own invitation to this little soiree. I’ll save us all a deal of embarrassment and blame the mail service. Lucky thing Mr. Bergland here was good enough to ask me, or I’d have missed this little do entirely. So wonderful to
see
you, Natalie dear. Kiss, kiss.”

“May I—uh—take your jackets?”

“Yes, but
do
have a care with mine. Silk, you know.”

“How practical. Kirk?”

“Thanks, appreciate it.”

“So, Natalie, how much did this dump set you back? If it was more than eighty, you were robbed.”

“Uh—why don’t you both follow me? You can meet everyone.”

“Oh, Christ, Natalie,
why
are you playing Lesley Gore? Did she die today or something?”

“Here we are. Kirk, Will, this is Joel, Brandon, Kelly, Thomas, David, Michael, and Kevin.”

“This is it? For God’s sake, when do the
real
guests show up?”

“Will, I’m warning you—”

“Where’s the bar? Excuse me, sweetheart. Ooh, look at the pecs on you! David, wasn’t it? You ready to leave yet, David? Just let me knock back a drink or two first.”

“Will—”

“Don’t get the wrong idea about me and Kirk. We’re not a couple. God forbid! We just came together. In the mundane sense of the word, I hasten to add. Hey, what’d I say? Fine, sweetheart. Your loss. You don’t look so good from behind, anyway.”

“Natalie, who
is
that guy?”

“Believe me, David, he wasn’t invited.”

“But you know him?”

“Please. We
all
know him. Or someone like him.”

“He’s a jerk!”

“My point exactly.”

“And he’s treating his date like dog shit.”

“I know. Poor Kirk. Maybe I should…pardon me a moment. I just had an idea.—Kirk, darling, don’t look so glum!”

“I’m really sorry about this, Natalie. We just met a few days ago. When he heard I was coming here, he really played up to me. Guess I’m just a sucker for a pretty face. I thought he liked me. He was so sweet, right up to the moment we walked in the door.”

“Darling,
I’m
the one who’s sorry. He was just using you to get back at me.”

“I can see that now. Maybe I should go.”

“No, I have a better idea. Come with me.—That’s right, up the stairs. Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“My bedroom. But don’t get any ideas, you randy old thing!”

“Natalie, you make me blush.”

“Just through here. Now, it’s in my desk drawer somewhere…shit, I wish I’d learn to put things in some kind of order. I remember I had it…Ah! Here it is. I
knew
this would come in handy someday. Have a look.”

“A photo? What’s—oh, my God. That’s—is that Will?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Why—why is he wearing a dirty diaper?”

“Well, from the look on his face, I’d say for enjoyment, wouldn’t you?”

“Is this real?”

“What mind could make it up?”

“I’m…stunned.”

“I thought you’d laugh.”

“Is it funny?”

“Poor, darling Kirk—it’s a
scream.
Don’t ask how I got it. Just take it downstairs to the bathroom, and I’ll send in the rest of my guests, one at a time. Now that they’ve spent a few minutes alone with Will, I’ll bet each and every one of them will consider this snapshot the highlight of the evening.”

“Oh, yeah! Natalie, you’re so terrifically
evil.”

“Nonsense, I’m a crusader for justice! And after everyone has seen it, we’ll make a group presentation of it to Will. Let’s see how sophisticated and superior he acts
then.”

“You’re incredible. I was all ready to go home and cry my eyes out.”

“Revenge is so much more fun than that, doll. Now let’s sneak back downstairs again…Put that in your shirt pocket, we don’t want anyone seeing it before we’re ready!—There’s the bathroom, over there. Yes go on in.—Well, darlings, how’s everything going?”

“No one told me there’d be no champagne here. Natalie, don’t you have
any
sparkling wine? Even bad domestic labels?”

“I’m sorry, Will, no.”

“That’s what I get for going to a party outside the reaches of civilization. Well, I guess a tumbler of this sewer brew you call gin will have to do.”

“Whatever you like.—Oh, Brandon, could you come here for a moment please?”

“Natalie, I turned it down, I
swear.”

“I know you did, darling, I just want a word with you.”

“Okay. What?”

“A little closer. That’s it. Listen, Brandon, I want you to go and meet Kirk in the bathroom for a moment. Nothing kinky or sexual involved; he just has a little surprise he wants to share with all the guests tonight, one at a time.”

“You promise it’s nothing kinky? I mean, I’m not really attracted to him.”

“Well, actually, it
is
kinky, but in a completely lovely, hands-off kind of way. You’ll see.”

“Rrrrright. Okay, I’m intrigued. Where’s the bathroom?”

“Just there to your left. There you go.—So, Joel, how about a drink for your hostess before the doorbell takes me away again?”

“Sure, Natalie. What’s your pleasure?”

“Bacardi on the rocks, please. Thanks so much for bartending while I’ve been busy with my guests.”

“No problem, I enjoy—oh my God! Did someone just scream?”

“Yes, hon. Sounded like it came from the bathroom. Why don’t you go and see what it’s all about? And send Brandon to me when you get there.”

“What?”

“Just go, Joel. Trust me. Door on the left. Go on.—Oh, hello again, Will.”

“Natalie, was that a scream?”

“I didn’t hear anything.”

“I could swear someone screamed. Not that a party like this doesn’t make one
want
to emit a piercing
cri de coeur
, but even so, for the sake of politesse, one
doesn’t.”

“Well, I’m sorry about that. Just try to relax and enjoy yourself.”

“Oh, honestly, Natalie, how
can
I with that awful
thing
on the wall staring at me? I mean, really: a Frida Kahlo print? Aspiring to upper-middle-classdom, are we? Don’t tell me: you subscribe to public television, too.”

“Whatever you say. Oh, excuse me.—So, Brandon. Enjoy yourself?”

“Natalie, I could
not
believe my eyes. What an absolute fucking
riot.
How on earth did you manage to get your hands on—oh, did you hear that? Joel must’ve just seen it.”

“And there’s the doorbell as well! Brandon, be a dear and send Kelly in to partake of our little party favor. I’ve got to go welcome our new arrivals…”

“So, more guests, Natalie?”

“Yes, Will, more guests. Excuse me.”

“Of a better caliber, I hope.”

“As a matter of fact, it’s probably Peter and his lover, Lloyd.”

“Oh, joy! So I finally get to meet her!”

“Better watch out, Will. ‘She’ could eat you for breakfast.”

“That would be lovely, but who’d be left to eat Peter?—Did you hear that? Natalie, you can’t deny it, that was the
third
scream tonight! What in the
world
is going on here?”

“Just a little sadomasochism. I try to cater to all my guests’ needs. Now I really
must
get that door.”

36

N
ATALIE DUCKED INTO
the kitchen for more ice. Peter followed her.

“I’ve been trying to get you alone all night,” he said. “For God’s sake, you didn’t tell me Will was going to be here!”

“I didn’t know about it myself, till he showed up,” she said, scooping snowy cubes from her freezer into an ice bucket. “Kirk brought him.”

“Kirk? Kirk
Bergland
is here with him?”

“Yes.” She wiped her hands on a dishtowel.

“Hardly Will’s type.”

“I know. I’m pretty sure he just used the poor boy to get past my front door. He’s been doing his damnedest to ruin the party ever since he got here.”

“Tell me about it! Last I saw, he was trying to get a rise out of Lloyd.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And how’s that working out for him?”

“About as well as you’d expect.” He put a finger to his lips, then led her over to the kitchen doorway. “They’re just outside,” he whispered. “Listen carefully.”

She perked her ears and could hear Will shrilly declaiming, “I’m
so
glad you’re not offended that I got to dear Peter before you did, Lloyd, love.”

“Why would that offend me?” Lloyd asked.

“Well,
some
terrible people would say you were getting my leftovers.”

“That’s a matter of perspective. And if I allowed myself to think in those reductive terms, my natural perspective would be to regard
you
as
Peter’s
leftovers.”

Natalie almost spit out a laugh. Will must be steaming.

“Fortunately,” Lloyd continued, “I really can’t accept such a cynical view of human relationships.”

“How very commendable,” said Will. “After all, we’re all of us sisters, aren’t we?”

“We are?” Lloyd asked.

“Well—yes.”

“I’ve never understood that. Calling gay men ‘sisters.’ What does it mean?”

Will hemmed and hawed for a few seconds. “Why—that we’re all
soul mates,
you daffy thing.”

“Are we?
I
don’t really think I’m
your
soul mate. No offense—I just don’t feel that way about anyone but Peter. But even if we were soul mates, why wouldn’t we call each other ‘brothers’ instead? I mean, we’re all men.”

Will laughed. “Well, dear, some of us have more than a little
woman
in us.”

“Tell me about that,” Lloyd said with keen interest. “Because I’ve never felt that way, myself. Even when it comes to sex, I’ve always felt that submission to another man, on my terms, is a declaration of masculinity, not the reverse. What could be farther removed from femininity that meeting another man on equal ground, and negotiating our way through the act of love?...See, with a man and a woman, the choices are more limited; the roles are already assigned.

“And also,” Lloyd continued, “pardon me for being dense—what does having ‘a little woman in you’ mean? Is there a certain something you objectively know all women to share—some trait that Margaret Thatcher and Madonna and Mother Teresa all possess—that you think you do too? Because I can’t imagine what that would be. The only possible commonality among all women, if there is one, would by definition be something hormonally determined, and
you
wouldn’t share that unless you were undergoing pre-op transsexual therapy, which I’m guessing, by the looks of you, you’re not.”

There was a long pause; then Will said, “Will you excuse me for a moment?”

Natalie stepped back into the kitchen, and she and Peter huddled together and giggled furiously. “Poor Will,” said Peter. “His bitchiness is no match for Lloyd and the Socratic method.”

Natalie put the lid on the ice bucket to keep the cubes cold. “So, having fun?”

“Oh, yeah. There must be a dozen guys here I haven’t seen in
ages.”

“They’ve missed you.” She met his eyes.
“I’ve
missed you.”

“Well—you know how it is when you’re married.”

“Still happy with Lloyd?” she asked in a low voice, as if assuring him of confidentiality if he wished to say otherwise.

“Oh, God, yes. Very. He’s just so incredibly good for me, Natalie. He’s actually gotten me painting again, believe it or not. Which I’ve never done seriously before, I was like everyone else; I dabbled.” He opened the ice bucket, removed a small chip of ice, and popped it in his mouth. “But Lloyd just kept hammering away at me,” he said, sucking slowly on the chip, “encouraging me to hone my craft, refine my vision, try to create works of art that have the capacity to, you know,
change
things. To point the way to a better world. So, anyway, I’ve done a couple of canvasses, nothing I’d show anyone, but not bad. Lloyd is a pretty good critic—he right away can tell me where I went wrong, where I pulled back when I was just about to, you know,
say
something. Where I choked because I was afraid of people laughing at me, is what it amounts to. You know, it’s so easy to adopt a jaded attitude out of fear; no one ever laughs at cynicism. Ever notice that? People always seem to give it a wide berth, I wonder why. Lloyd can’t figure it out either, and he’s been working on it longer than I have. But he says what takes real courage isn’t cynicism, it’s enthusiasm, it’s saying, Here’s what I believe, and I don’t care if you think it’s naïve or unsophisticated or silly. I guess I always believed that too, you know—believed in celebrating the best in me, but I never did because it seems like no one wants to see the best in anyone anymore. Their first impulse is to tear it down. Look at Will, for God’s sake. Everyone wants to see the grungy side, the flaws. But I’ve got this integrity, you know? This streak that I’m kind of proud of, and I want to do something with it, and maybe—” He caught Natalie’s slightly distant expression and stopped short, as if embarrassed at having caught himself boring her. “Anyway, yeah, I’m very happy with Lloyd, to answer your original question.”

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