Where The Boys Are (20 page)
Read Where The Boys Are Online
Authors: William J. Mann
Meanwhile, Back in the South End
Jeff
“H
e’s gotten even fatter since Christmas,” Lloyd says. “Jeff, this
can’t
be a good thing.”
e’s gotten even fatter since Christmas,” Lloyd says. “Jeff, this
can’t
be a good thing.”
I just smile over at the sight of them, our twenty-seven-pound cat curled up in Lloyd’s lap on the couch. “You remember what the vet said,” I remind him. “‘Just let him live.’”
Lloyd grimaces. “She said
live,
not
explode.”
live,
not
explode.”
Surprised to see Lloyd at my place? So am I. So is Mr. Tompkins. He immediately went for Lloyd’s lap, settling down and purring loudly, like the rattling motor of an old refrigerator. He’s missed him. Last fall, when Lloyd was coming by more frequently, Mr. Tompkins would always plop himself down in front of the door after he left, awaiting his return. He’d stay there for hours, despite my attempts to move him—which, at twenty-seven pounds, isn’t easy. Finally he’d give up, and for the past few months he’s been particularly surly. The only thing I can conclude is that he misses Lloyd something fierce.
See, Mr. Tompkins isn’t known to be the friendliest cat, except to Lloyd and me. He was notoriously jealous of Javitz, leaping at him from countertops. Now far too obese for such sport, he settles for chomping down on Henry’s hand whenever he attempts to pet him, which isn’t often anymore, to say the least. To our friends, Mr. Tompkins is the Hellspawn, but we call him our baby; and now Baby is purring, fast asleep, in Daddy’s lap.
“I want to get a cat for us in Provincetown,” Eva chirps, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, watching the reunion between Lloyd and Mr. Tompkins.
Yes, she’s here, too. Which
doesn’t
surprise you, you say. Me, either. I’m trying to be pleasant, even accepting one of those choke holds from her that she calls hugs. But she’s such a little imp, like some annoying creature out of Sid & Marty Kroft. Every other word out of her mouth is “we.”
We did this and we’re buying that and we have so much to do and we’re just having so much fun setting up our new life together as husband and wife
.
doesn’t
surprise you, you say. Me, either. I’m trying to be pleasant, even accepting one of those choke holds from her that she calls hugs. But she’s such a little imp, like some annoying creature out of Sid & Marty Kroft. Every other word out of her mouth is “we.”
We did this and we’re buying that and we have so much to do and we’re just having so much fun setting up our new life together as husband and wife
.
Okay, so maybe not that last one, but that’s what she means. It’s her way of reminding me that
she’s
in my place now, and I’d better not forget it. She’s stuck so close to Lloyd ever since they got here that she actually seems jealous of the cat.
she’s
in my place now, and I’d better not forget it. She’s stuck so close to Lloyd ever since they got here that she actually seems jealous of the cat.
“No, Eva,” Lloyd is saying, shaking his head. “I’ve
explained
that to you. We can’t get a cat. Guests might be allergic.”
explained
that to you. We can’t get a cat. Guests might be allergic.”
She shrugs and looks over at me. “I keep forgetting about the guests.”
Of course she does.
Of course!
She isn’t in this for some quaint little bed-and-breakfast experience. She’s in it to play house with Lloyd.
Why can’t he see that?
Of course!
She isn’t in this for some quaint little bed-and-breakfast experience. She’s in it to play house with Lloyd.
Why can’t he see that?
And why does it upset me so? I’ve accepted that it’s his choice, that the hopes and the dreams I allowed myself to embrace last fall just won’t be happening. Lloyd and I are
over.
over.
Then he shows up at my door today—Valentine’s Day—with a bouquet of daisies. My favorite flowers. The card is simple and poignant:
My love always, Lloyd.
My love always, Lloyd.
I had nothing to give him in return. But I admit I made something of a show kissing Lloyd in front of Eva. Maybe that was mean of me. She retreated into the kitchen, examining the photos and magnets on my refrigerator door.
“I’d
love
to go to a circuit party with you all sometime,” she’s saying now, pointing back into the kitchen toward a picture of me and Zed, the leather guy I dated briefly last year. We’re at the Folsom Street Fair in San Francisco, the only time I’ve ever worn the harness Javitz left me. Now I’ve loaned it to Henry for those clients who want him in leather. “Would you
take
me to a circuit party, Jeff?” Eva’s asking. “They look like so much fun!”
love
to go to a circuit party with you all sometime,” she’s saying now, pointing back into the kitchen toward a picture of me and Zed, the leather guy I dated briefly last year. We’re at the Folsom Street Fair in San Francisco, the only time I’ve ever worn the harness Javitz left me. Now I’ve loaned it to Henry for those clients who want him in leather. “Would you
take
me to a circuit party, Jeff?” Eva’s asking. “They look like so much fun!”
I have to smile. Eva at a circuit party. Now
there’s
an image.
there’s
an image.
“Don’t encourage him,” Lloyd tells her. “I’ve already told Jeff he does too much partying.”
“Many times,” I agree.
Lloyd nuzzles his face down into Mr. Tompkins’s fur. Eva takes the opportunity to lean in close to me. “May I talk with you a minute, Jeff?” she whispers. “About something?”
I nod, a little wary. She takes my arm and leads me into the kitchen, away from Lloyd’s ears. She looks up at me with those big, earnest eyes.
“I need some advice,” she says.
“Advice? What kind of advice?”
She sighs. “Last week, Lloyd had a cold. I made him some broth and bought some sinus medicine, but nothing seemed to perk him up.
Tell
me. What did
you
do when he was sick? Is there some special food, some particular remedy he prefers?”
Tell
me. What did
you
do when he was sick? Is there some special food, some particular remedy he prefers?”
I just look at her.
“I feel rather silly asking,” she continues. “Kind of like the new wife asking the ex.”
She laughs. I don’t.
“I was never a wife,” I tell her.
Her eyes level with mine. “I just want to take seriously my responsibilities to him. After all, this is quite a commitment we’ve made to each other.”
Has she no
clue?
Is she being catty or is she really so ingenuous?
clue?
Is she being catty or is she really so ingenuous?
“Look, Eva, I can tell you this much. When Lloyd’s sick, he prefers to be
left alone.”
left alone.”
She smiles. “Come, now, Jeff. I’ve heard how you and Javitz would sit up all night with him, changing the wet cloth on his head, tucking in the blankets around his legs.”
“Oh, he likes
family
around,” I say, fully aware of just how nasty that comes across. And I intend it to be nasty. I admit it. I just can’t abide the phoniness anymore. She dislikes me as much as I dislike her. She knows that I see through her, and she’s trying to win me over with her fakey warmth and talk of circuit parties. Yet she can’t resist her own little digs about joint checking accounts and making commitments.
family
around,” I say, fully aware of just how nasty that comes across. And I intend it to be nasty. I admit it. I just can’t abide the phoniness anymore. She dislikes me as much as I dislike her. She knows that I see through her, and she’s trying to win me over with her fakey warmth and talk of circuit parties. Yet she can’t resist her own little digs about joint checking accounts and making commitments.
I move past her back into the living room. I don’t know if she’s upset, and at the moment I don’t care. I just sit down beside Lloyd on the couch.
“He’s missed me,” Lloyd says, putting his face down near Mr. Tompkins’s. Anyone else would lose half a cheek, but our baby just licks Lloyd’s ear.
I smile. “Henry won’t sit with his back to him.”
“That’s probably smart,” Lloyd says. “You bad boy, you.” He tickles Mr. Tompkins’s belly. The cat purrs even louder. “How’s he taken to your houseguest? What’s his name again?
Andrew?”
Andrew?”
“Anthony,” I correct him. “He . . . well, he’s grudgingly gotten used to Anthony.”
Truth is, Mr. Tompkins
loathes
Anthony. Anthony’s offense was to usurp the throne:
the couch.
Every chance he gets, Mr. Tompkins makes a nest on top of Anthony’s backpack, leaving it covered with cat hair. Yet Anthony never complains. Repeatedly he’s tried to win the cat over, bringing home salmon-flavored treats and catnip toys. But while Mr. Tompkins is only too glad to wolf down the treats, he still tries to take a chunk out of Anthony’s hand as he feeds him.
loathes
Anthony. Anthony’s offense was to usurp the throne:
the couch.
Every chance he gets, Mr. Tompkins makes a nest on top of Anthony’s backpack, leaving it covered with cat hair. Yet Anthony never complains. Repeatedly he’s tried to win the cat over, bringing home salmon-flavored treats and catnip toys. But while Mr. Tompkins is only too glad to wolf down the treats, he still tries to take a chunk out of Anthony’s hand as he feeds him.
Eva’s come out of the kitchen. I look over at her. “Don’t you want to pet Mr. Tompkins?” I ask, unable to resist.
Her smile tightens. “Maybe later.” She looks over at Lloyd. “Don’t forget, we need to stop at Pottery Barn for new bath mats for our upstairs bathroom.”
Oh, she’s
good.
I have to give her that. She’s good.
good.
I have to give her that. She’s good.
“You know, Eva,” Lloyd says, “you might want to check that place on Clarendon Street, the one I was
telling
you about.” He looks at her as if he’s trying to remind her of something. “Lots of nice things there for the house.”
telling
you about.” He looks at her as if he’s trying to remind her of something. “Lots of nice things there for the house.”
“Oh, yes.” She smiles. “But I don’t know Boston. I’ll wait for you. I’m afraid I’d get lost.”
But Lloyd’s insistent. “Just walk up through Union Park, cross Tremont, hang a right, and a take a left on Clarendon. Easy as pie.”
She flushes. “Oh, I just get so confused with directions. . . .”
I realize what he’s doing. He’s trying to tell her to get lost. He wants to spend some time alone with me. On Valentine’s Day. My heart melts.
But just then, the door opens. It’s Anthony. Coming home, after being out all night again on one of his weekly disappearances.
And he’s carrying his own bouquet of flowers.
There are moments of such sublime awkwardness that they become almost magical. This is one of them. Here we are, Lloyd and I, trying to get rid of Eva, when in walks Anthony. And the flowers in his hand are wrapped in pink Valentine’s paper with lots of hearts. Eva doesn’t know who the fuck this guy is, while Lloyd knows fully well—and all I want to do is slip under the rug.
“Uh, hi,” Anthony says, noticing the company.
“Anthony,” I say quickly, “you remember Lloyd? New Year’s Eve?”
“We never officially met,” Lloyd says, extending his hand to Anthony.
I jump up off the couch and snatch the flowers from Anthony without acknowledging them. I set them down on the coffee table. “Oh, well, then, Lloyd, this is Anthony. Anthony, this is Lloyd.”
The two shake hands. “I notice Mr. Tompkins is pretty content there,” Anthony observes.
“Yeah. Well, he misses me.” I notice just the slightest defensive tone in Lloyd’s voice.
“And this is Eva,” I say, finishing the introductions.
“Nice to meet you,” Anthony says. His big mitt completely swallows her tiny hand.
“And it is a
delight
to meet you,” she gushes in that same syrupy tone I know so well. “Jeff has spoken so warmly about you.”
delight
to meet you,” she gushes in that same syrupy tone I know so well. “Jeff has spoken so warmly about you.”
No, I haven’t.
I
totally
haven’t. Lloyd asked me how it was, living with Anthony, and I said, “He’s no bother.” That’s it. He’s
no bother.
That’s
warm?
This woman is too fucking
much.
I
totally
haven’t. Lloyd asked me how it was, living with Anthony, and I said, “He’s no bother.” That’s it. He’s
no bother.
That’s
warm?
This woman is too fucking
much.
Anthony blushes a little, looking over at me. “I brought you something,” he says.
I look down at the flowers on the coffee table. Mr. Tompkins has jumped off Lloyd’s lap and is now munching on the sunflower heads that hang off the side. “Hey!” I scold, whisking up the bouquet and rushing it to the kitchen. “Thanks,” I call back to Anthony.
I know he expected a kiss, but I just can’t. Not in front of Lloyd. Actually, more to the point, not in front of
Eva.
I don’t want to give her the impression that I’ve moved on, that I’ve found someone new, that Lloyd is all hers.
Eva.
I don’t want to give her the impression that I’ve moved on, that I’ve found someone new, that Lloyd is all hers.
But haven’t I?
No,
I tell myself as I fill a vase with water,
I guess I haven’t.
I snip the ends off the sunflowers with a pair of scissors. Okay, so maybe I’ve tried to convince myself that I
have
moved on. And yes, I do care about Anthony, but seeing Lloyd again has only made me wonder if Henry is right: if those feelings for Anthony exist simply because Lloyd has seemed unavailable.
No,
I tell myself as I fill a vase with water,
I guess I haven’t.
I snip the ends off the sunflowers with a pair of scissors. Okay, so maybe I’ve tried to convince myself that I
have
moved on. And yes, I do care about Anthony, but seeing Lloyd again has only made me wonder if Henry is right: if those feelings for Anthony exist simply because Lloyd has seemed unavailable.
I set the flowers in the vase, placing them on top of the refrigerator so Mr. Tompkins can’t get them. He’s far too fat to jump that high.
Then I notice the card. It has fallen out and landed on the floor. I stoop down, pick it up and debate whether to open it. Lloyd’s just a few yards away in the living room. My curiosity wins out.
To Jeff,
the card reads.
With thanks for taking me in. Happy V Day. Love, Anthony.
This time my heart melts for
him
.
To Jeff,
the card reads.
With thanks for taking me in. Happy V Day. Love, Anthony.
This time my heart melts for
him
.
Jeff O’Brien, you are one fucked-up fool.
I walk back out to the living room. I can tell, very little conversation has transpired in my absence. “Mr. Tompkins would eat the drapes if I didn’t watch him,” I crack, using the cat to relieve the tension. Everyone laughs.
“I know!” Eva announces, her eyes twinkling with an idea. “Maybe
Anthony
would show me where this place is on Clarendon Street.”
Anthony
would show me where this place is on Clarendon Street.”
“What place?” he asks.
“Fresh Eggs,” Lloyd tells him. “She’s afraid she’ll get lost.”
“I’d be glad to.” Anthony smiles. “I’ve just learned my way around Boston myself.”
“Oh,
would
you?” She beams. “How kind. And this way we’ll have a chance to get to know each other a little better. I have a feeling we’re going to be
very
good friends.”
would
you?” She beams. “How kind. And this way we’ll have a chance to get to know each other a little better. I have a feeling we’re going to be
very
good friends.”
I look at Anthony. He’s still wearing the same clothes from the night before. His hair is matted down. He’s unshaven, grimy.
What’s the matter?
I’m thinking.
Your trick not have a shower?
What’s the matter?
I’m thinking.
Your trick not have a shower?
But I don’t really think that Anthony leaves here once a week to spend the night with some trick. In the beginning he had disappeared on Wednesdays, then Thursdays, and now it’s Sunday that he takes off, only to return back, on cue, some time late Monday afternoon. He leaves early in the morning for work and then doesn’t come back until the next day. It’s gotten so that I don’t even ask anymore and he doesn’t even tell me. It just happens.
I watch him leave with Eva, my emotions roiling. I hate when I get this way. So hostile to Eva, so petty with Anthony. I took over at Lloyd. It’s as if he can read my thoughts.
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