Orientation

Chapter 2-1

Chapter 2

It was Christmas, 2007. Robert listened to Ethan in the other room, talking rapidly and in a low voice on his cell phone. Robert didn’t want to eavesdrop, but lately Ethan had been hiding things from him. The traces were all around: Internet trails carelessly left behind of gay male hookup sites, business cards on Ethan’s dressers, clichéd matchbooks with phone numbers in them. Robert didn’t want to be suspicious, but he knew that his young lover was at least entertaining the possibility of cheating on him.

And the thought for Robert—who was well into his forties—was not as upsetting as it might once have been. Ethan was young, beautiful, with a naturally muscular body, wavy black hair, and brown eyes that were startling against his long black lashes. Robert knew Ethan’s s*x drive, at twenty-six, was revved up far hotter than his own. It was a matter of testosterone, Robert supposed. If Ethan wanted to burn a little surplus energy with someone else, then so be it. But Robert had thought, once, that Ethan loved only him.

Now he wasn’t so sure. Not when he could hear the young man in the next room whispering frantically into the phone. Not when Robert could hear the pleading tone of Ethan’s voice, if not all the words. On this night, Christmas, which had become so special to him over the years (since Keith died, the day had become both a celebration and a memoriam), he wanted the one person upon whom he had decided to lavish all of his own affections and fidelity to be there just for him, alone.

Fooling around behind his back was one thing. And, as stupid as Robert knew it sounded, fooling around (or making plans to do so) behind his back on Christmas was crossing the line into unforgivable territory. Robert leaned forward in his leather office chair, trying to make sure the polished hide didn’t squeak as he moved and to silence the ice clinking in his gin and tonic. He didn’t want to listen. He didn’t want to hear the words of a young man who had shared this penthouse condominium with him for the past three years whisper frantic entreaties into the ear of another man.

But that’s just what he was hearing. And as adept as Robert had become at deluding himself and playing the charade of denial, he couldn’t discount what his own ears were picking up.

A pause and then Ethan again, his deep voice higher, a whine, as he begged. “But it’s Christmas, Tony. I have to see you. Can’t you get away for just a little bit?”

Robert wished Ethan had a brother named Tony—or even a best friend—but as far as he knew, he didn’t. He sipped his drink, being careful to tip the glass slowly, so the movement of the ice would not alert Ethan to the fact Robert was listening. But how stupid the boy was! To carry on this conversation right outside Robert’s den in their living room, when he could have easily gone upstairs and closed a bedroom door.

But Ethan, as Robert could hear, was too desperate to think about Robert overhearing. His focus was all on this Tony person. And that made Robert doubly sad, because Ethan didn’t even care enough about him, or them, to hide his duplicity, his little betrayals, now, and online, in the bars, at the gym. The traces lay around everywhere, almost as if Ethan wanted Robert to find them. What did Ethan expect? That Robert would grant him permission to have other boyfriends? Grant him this permission and continue to let him live here, in luxury? The boy didn’t even have a job!

“Listen, we are getting together, or I’ll find someone else to take care of me. Is that what you want?” Ethan’s voice hiccupped a little at the end of the question, and Robert realized things were worse than he thought. “Okay, okay. Yes, I can be there. No, he won’t mind.” Ethan laughed. “We already unwrapped our prizes.” Another pause and then Ethan said, “I’ll tell you all about them when I see you.” Another pause and then, a breathless whisper: “Hurry.”

Robert turned his chair around to face his laptop computer screen and pretended to be checking his Yahoo e-mail the moment he heard the snap as Ethan closed his cell phone. He reached over to the shelf, where a small CD player sat, and turned up the volume on Kay Starr singing, “Everybody’s Waitin’ for the Man with the Bag.” Some things, like Robert’s yuletide musical selections, never changed. Ethan didn’t have to wait for the man with the bag anymore. He’d already opened his presents, which included little trinkets like a Movado watch, the latest top-of-the-line iPod, a selection of clothes from Ermenegildo Zegna…even the cell phone on which he had talked to this Tony character had been a gift. The Sony Ericsson phone had cost about eight hundred dollars, and Robert knew Ethan would lose it before spring arrived.

Robert clicked on an e-mail (it could have been SPAM, but he played at looking absorbed) as Ethan padded in behind him, probably wearing the shearling-lined Cole Haan slippers he had just unwrapped that morning.

Robert tried not to flinch as he felt Ethan wrap his arms around him and lean in close. “How are you doing, Daddy?”

Robert had never really liked the term, but Ethan wasn’t put off from using it at the start of their relationship as a s****l term of endearment, and the nickname had become permanent. Why didn’t Ethan just be honest and put “sugar” in front? Robert closed his eyes, a headache gathering force behind his eyes. Maybe he was mistaken, maybe he was reading all the signs wrong…

Ethan had overwhelmed him with gifts that day, at last outdoing even Robert. It was a bounty.

And all of it charged to Robert’s American Express.

Stop thinking that way! Give the boy a chance. He clicked the red X in the upper right-hand corner of the screen and watched it return to its screensaver of last year’s Christmas tree, decked out completely in Christopher Radko ornaments.

“I’m good, sweetheart. Getting hungry? I could have dinner together in about an hour. All the prep work is done.”

He smiled up at Ethan, trying to look guileless, trying to appear as though he had no idea what Ethan was about to say. Robert hoped his innocent face and promise of dinner would shame the younger man into canceling his plans.

“About that.” Ethan removed his hands from Robert’s shoulder and stood back, waiting for Robert to turn the swiveling leather chair toward him. “I need to run out for a bit.”

“But honey, it’s Christmas. Where would you need to go?”

Ethan looked out the window over Robert’s shoulder. Robert wondered if inspiration was written in the black night sky. Perhaps in stars…

“My aunt, up in Evanston? I shouldn’t have, but I promised I’d stop by. I thought it would be easier if I got it out of the way now, then we could have the rest of the evening together, without any interruptions.” Ethan touched Robert’s face, smiling down at him.

And Robert was damned if the gesture and flawless smile didn’t make his pulse race, in spite of himself.

Just to be cruel, and to see how Ethan would react, Robert stood. “Aunt Janine? I love her. She’s a complete and utter hoot. I’ll come with you.”

Ethan frowned. “There’s going to be a whole slew of family there. Aunts, uncles, cousins, even my dad might crawl out of the woodwork. I don’t want to put you through that.”

“I don’t mind. Just give me a G&T and a spot near the fireplace.” Robert grinned, enjoying this and wishing he wasn’t.

Ethan shook his head. “No. I can be in and out much quicker if I just go on my own.” Ethan paused to think. “Besides, don’t you have a little more work to do in the kitchen? I know after Aunt Janine’s hot artichoke spread with Triscuits, I’ll be ready for some real food.” He pulled Robert close and planted a chaste kiss on his lips. He grinned and let his brown-eyed gaze linger. Robert supposed the younger man was calculating its effect on him. “I will be so ready for that Beef Wellington.” Ethan stepped quickly from the den, and Robert listened as he collected his keys and cell phone.

“Drive carefully,” Robert called. “The roads might be icy.”

Like your heart.