Loving Jay (15 page)

“Yeah.”

“And it didn’t absolutely blow your mind?” He sounded flabbergasted.

“See!” I threw my hands up in the air and turned toward the window, staring out at the trail of red taillights I could see snaking down the freeway. “My best friend, Aaron, is the same. He is totally straight, mind you, and cannot understand how sex is not the be-all and end-all of my life. It’s not clear-cut to me. I wish it was. But I keep trying to find that elusive powder keg and detonation switch.”

Jay rolled off the bed and came to stand next to me, bumping shoulders like he always did. “Hence ‘exploring your options,’ huh?”

I smiled and pulled him in front of me, curved my body behind his so we could both stare out the window, and rested my chin on his shoulder. “Yeah.”

He leaned back in my embrace. “So how was the exploration mission tonight?”

I laughed, kissed his neck, and tongued those hella-delicious diamond studs. “The best I can ever remember. Which is why I would love to keep exploring, but I don’t want to make any promises I can’t keep. Do you understand, Jay? If you don’t want to, tell me now, and we can go back to being friends.”

He turned in my embrace and looped his arms behind my neck. “I always did want to be an explorer.”

T
RUE
TO
his word, Jay kept things light while I fought my demons.

He left my place with a simple kiss on my cheek, not pushing or anything. It was me who grabbed him and shoved him up against the wall for a long good-bye kiss that sizzled both of our toes. It felt wonderful to be able to do that. I’m not talking about the fact it was physical one-on-one closeness, or that it was another guy
—
because I really am gay, you know
—
it was wonderful because it was Jay.

The following day was Sunday Roast and I arrived in an upbeat, happy mood. Dale and Candice, with baby Isaac, were already there, plus Ben and Alison. I kissed Alison on the cheek.

“Have you found a fill-in bridesmaid yet?”

She grumbled about having to grovel to her sister, but it seemed all was on track now. She was beginning to stress about last minute items—five weeks until the big day, and counting. I shook Dad’s hand and he slapped me on the back, jovial because his football team was about to start playing, and mine had lost last night. Ben had already staked his place in front of the TV, ready for the game, as Dad and Ben went for the same team. I had picked another team to go for—deliberate on my behalf—a teenage rebellion against my father.

Mum came forward for a brief hug and I kissed her, and waited for her opening line.

“Hi, sweetie. You didn’t bring anyone with you this month?”

I opened my mouth, ready to deny that I had anyone I wanted to bring, ready to tease Mum about her unsubtle asking, ready to push those cows further out into the paddock. My mouth opened and I don’t know who was more surprised about the words that emerged. “I’m working on it, Mum. Hopefully next month.”

I guess you could say Mum was gobsmacked, but I don’t like that word. I didn’t smack her and I did nothing to her mouth, so I guess I will have to say she was flummoxed. Yeah, I like that word, flummoxed. She was like a fish out of water, her mouth opening and closing but nothing much else happening. I had completely astounded her. She knew her lines, she knew my lines, but suddenly I was off-script and she was lost.

Alison was the one who replied, hooting and making fun of me. “Whoo-hoo! Look at lover boy here! Got a new fish to fry.”

Candice was beaming at me. “Really? You’ve asked someone out? Who is it?”

Funnily enough, Dale didn’t say anything, just gave me a twisted smile and passed me a beer. John arrived then and saved me from further grilling, although sly comments were dropped throughout the day.

Sunday Roast was refreshingly normal. Mum brought out the two roasts—one beef and one lamb as usual—while the other women dished out plates of roasted potato, pumpkin, sweet potato, and carrots. There were peas and corn, steamed broccoli, string beans, and of course, the required jug of homemade gravy. Dad carved the meat with one eye on the television, as it was a few minutes until the end of the first quarter of the football game. Soon, Mum’s serving platter was piled high with slices of steaming meat. We all pulled up our chairs and handed around the fresh bread rolls and vegetables.

Conversation was quiet and subdued, and I was reminded of Jay’s family dinner. I wondered what he would think of our meal? There was no shouting, unless you counted Ben’s yell for more bread rolls to be sent to his end of the table. Yeah, and okay, I got in trouble for chucking them to Ben instead of passing the plate. And I think I saw John flick a pea at Dale, and Alison definitely had her hand on Ben’s thigh during the meal, and Anita pinched Cameron at least twice, and I saw Dad lick his knife—which Mum hated, but over all we were very polite and civil to each other.

Then the siren sounded to signal the start of the next quarter and Dad and Ben disappeared. The rest of us pretended not to notice and carried on our meal. Anita worked in Aged Care and told us some funny stories about her Alzheimer-stricken patients, and John managed to persuade Candice that he really didn’t need a blind date with her cousin.

It was extremely pleasant to be with my family—even though I mumble and groan about them all the time. After the West Coast Eagles lost (yes!), it was time to leave, and Ben and Alison gave me a ride home, even though it was out of their way.

“Okay, now dish, Liam,” Alison demanded as we left the house behind. “What is she like?”

“Who?” I played dumb.

“This girl you are ‘working on.’ What did you mean by that? Are you dating?”

This was like high school all over again.
“We’re not dating. We met up for lunch a couple of weeks back and we have another date this week. We haven’t mentioned anything about a permanent relationship, or exclusivity, or anything like that.”
Shit! We didn’t, did we? I’d better double-check that with Jay. And while I am at it I’d better check the expiry date on those condoms at home.

“But you like her, yes?”

I smiled at the thought of Jay. “Yeah. More than anyone I’ve liked for a long time.”
Shit! I should just get a whole new packet of condoms and be done with it.

“So it’s serious on your side? You’d like to make it long-term?”

“Yeah.”
I don’t think one packet is going to be enough. I should stock up.

“So do you want to bring her to the wedding? You can, you know. It is just a cocktail party with no seating arrangements or anything. I can easily have one extra.”

My happy little bubble burst as I pictured the scene. Alison, resplendent in a white poofy dress, Ben dressed up to the nines, the pink-clad bridesmaids, the friends and family in their Sunday best, Uncle Kenny, Aunt Rose, Grandad and Grandma Turner, Cousin Gary the Catholic priest… and then me and Jay. They would stare, they would sneer; we would totally ruin the wedding.

“I… ah… don’t think so, Alison. Thanks anyway. The day should be about you and Ben. If I bring someone to the wedding, people will be too busy gossiping about me and how I’d finally got a date. Besides, don’t you remember? The last date I brought to a family wedding ended up marrying Dale. I don’t want to tempt fate.”

Ben and Alison laughed, and the subject was dropped. But I didn’t forget about it. I tossed and turned that night, my dreams a mixture of arousal and terror, as the attack on Jay got all mixed in with sex, and on top of that, guilt and shame.

I felt angry—angry that I couldn’t ask whoever I wanted to a wedding without causing a scene. Why should it be different because I was gay? And why should it be different because it was Jay? I knew for certain that if I were in love with someone like Aaron, then my family could pretend that we were just friends and nothing would be said. We could be mates and even live together and no one would be any wiser unless we went around in public smooching or something.

But because Jay is like Jay is, there would be no way that people would see our being together as anything other than a gay relationship. Jay practically shouted his homosexuality from the way he acted and the way he dressed. Not that he should change, because I absolutely adored that about him, but it was true—it made others feel uncomfortable.

So not bringing Jay to the wedding was all about
other
people. It was nothing about my feelings, or Jay’s feelings, or even Ben and Alison’s feelings. It was the
reaction
of other people that made me have to act a different way. And that made me feel guilty, like I were ashamed of Jay or something.

My first taste of people’s feelings came on Wednesday night. Jay still owed me for two meals and insisted on taking me out. There was a new Japanese restaurant a couple of blocks from my apartment, so Jay drove to my place and we walked there together.

“So do you like Japanese food?” I asked him as we walked.

Jay was practically skipping next to me, excitement and excess energy making him jiggle and dance. “Oh, I adore it! There’s a place not too far from work that I go to all the time. It makes the best sushi! I tried to make it at home once, but Mum hated it so I don’t go to all that bother for just me. But it’s so nice. And you know the best thing? It’s a good environmental choice. We are not using up the planet’s resources on cooking because most of it is raw….”

He rattled on and didn’t require a response from me, which I loved because it gave me the chance to just watch him. He used his whole body when he talked, which made me think of other things he could use his whole body for, which then caused problems with my body, so I was eternally grateful Jay did not require an answer to be formulated in my suddenly empty brain. The blood in my body was otherwise occupied, thank you very much.

When we arrived at the restaurant, I held the door open for Jay to precede me, just like I would a woman, and then I spoke to the maître d’ to confirm our reservations. It was when I got to the table that I found I had a problem. With a woman, I would hold her chair for her and make sure she was seated before I sat down, but what was the rule with gay dating? I didn’t want to make Jay feel like a girl, because I certainly didn’t want him to treat me like that, but how far did you go with the courtesy? I wanted to show that I appreciated him and cared about him, but I didn’t want to dent his pride. I held the chair out for him, anyway.

Jay had hardly drawn breath since my question, so I didn’t think he noticed my problem. As usual, he needed a reminder that other things in life were happening around him. I snagged a hand as it flew past and squeezed. “Hey. How about we decide on drinks and food, and then you can tell me all about the whale-conservation movement?”

He stopped midsentence and looked around as if he were unsure how he had arrived at this place, then looked abashed. “Sorry. I just wish my mouth would turn off sometimes. I should sew my lips together like those protesting refugees so I can’t just blabber on all night!”

I didn’t want Jay to feel bad at all, so I captured his other hand, pulling them together in my clasp and shaking them slightly to get his attention. “Jay. I love your mouth and I definitely don’t want you doing anything like sewing it together. I love it doing crazy things to my body and I love it when all these ideas that I have never even considered come pouring forth out of it. I don’t want you to change, so stop apologizing for being you. If I didn’t like you I wouldn’t be out with you. I just need you to draw a breath and pick some food so that we can eat, and then maybe we can go back to my place and I can
show
you all the things I love about your mouth.”

Jay’s eyes got really wide, and then a blush stole over his cheeks. He stared at my lips and muttered, “Fuck the food. Let’s go home now.”

I laughed out loud. “No way! You owe me two meals now. You are not getting out of this one. Besides, if we go home now I will never sleep because you haven’t finished your story about the whales and I’ll be up all night wondering.”

He chuckled and we managed to order without too much trouble. We enjoyed a lovely meal together. It was only toward the end of the night that things got difficult.

I had been vaguely aware of my surroundings all night, but mostly completely entranced with Jay. The restaurant was crowded for a Wednesday night, and we were sitting against the wall. Seated at the table next to us was a party of four—two men and two women. I had distantly registered that the men were in their late forties and not exactly the most attractive specimens of manhood. The women were slightly younger and sisters by the looks of it. The men seemed to be friends, drinking copious amounts of alcohol and laughing loudly. I had briefly wondered if the men were brothers-in-law, married to sisters.

At some time during the night Jay leaned close, motioned to our neighbors, and giggled softly to me, “I don’t think the blind date is going all that well.”

Surprised, I glanced over to see the woman closest to me was wearing almost a sneer of disgust at the man opposite her. The man was no one special with a beer gut forming, thinning hair, and a cheap suit that looked to be over twenty years old. I had snorted, laughing with Jay, and Mr. Cheap Suit had glared at us.