"I DIDN'T DO it." I knew Mark was too upset to believe me. "No one, I haven't talked to…Oh, shit." Daniel, it had to be, but I didn't agree to talk to a newspaper. Did he go to them?
"What? Who did you talk to?" Mark paced across the den.
Ruby settled into her chair and read the paper. "Says here that Vernon denies knowing Derek is gay, and that he 'loves the sinner, but hates the sin.'" She looked up with a sneer. "What a bunch of bull; whose Bible is he reading from? I could tell Vernon a thing or two." The phone rang, and she answered it with a short, irritated, "Hello?"
Mark sat down on the couch and put his head in his hands. I took up his pacing.
"Oh, sorry Valerie." Ruby leaned back in the chair. "Yes, we saw the article. I don't know. Yes, I'll tell him. Okay, see you then." She hung up the phone, and said Valerie would be by at lunch.
"May I see the paper?" I asked. Ruby handed it over. I checked the byline: Daniel Kaperonis. He was a reporter. How fucking stupid could I be? "I know the guy who wrote the story," the words squeaked out.
"What?" Mark bounded off the couch. "You talked to a reporter without clearing it with Dad's campaign manager?"
"Hold on." I slung the paper to the floor. "I don't have to clear anything with anybody."
He got in my face again. "Listen, in this town, what you say can cause a lot of trouble for the family."
"Fuck the family." I spit the words back at him.
"Boys!" Ruby tried to separate us. "I can't stand this fighting."
"Ruby," Mark led her by the arm, "Derek and I need to talk. Would you please sit down here? We'll go in the living room."
I stormed through the kitchen and dining room to the little-used living room and turned, ready to fight, waiting for him to follow me, but realizing I still wore only my boxers, I felt at a disadvantage against Mark in his business suit. I went to my bedroom and pulled on jeans and a T-shirt. When I came back in the room, Mark sat in a chair, tapping the rolled up newspaper on his knee.
"Have you calmed down?" he asked.
"Me? You're the one who tore in here waving that damned paper around, accusing me."
"But you said you had talked to a reporter."
"I didn't know he was a reporter." I told Mark how I had met Daniel and what we talked about. "So, you see, I wasn't intending to talk."
Mark scanned the story again. "He didn't use any direct quotes from you in the article, but when he went to Dad, he did, just to get a reaction out of him. Dad all but admits he knows you're gay. Says here:
Vernon Harris commented on rumors by acknowledging his nephew, Derek, left Charlotte to attend college, and now resides in San Francisco. Harris said, "He was always rebellious and young people go through a lot of experimentation." When asked about his own youthful experimentation, Harris only said, "I never did anything worse than sneak a cigarette or bottle of beer from my grandfather." Harris' grandfather was Ernest Harris, the founder of Harris Construction, philanthropist, and former Mayor of Charlotte. Vernon Harris, a US senatorial candidate, bases his campaign on the traditional family, and relies on several conservative churches for support. "The good God-fearing people of this community know I wouldn't endorse the homosexual lifestyle in this city, and especially not in any member of my beloved family." Harris concluded his remarks with the following: "I love the sinner, but hate the sin."
"What a dickhead," I said it before I could think.
"My father isn't a dickhead," Mark corrected, "he may act like one sometimes, but he means well."
"Means well? He's spreading hate and misinformation. What right has he got to stand up in front of the public and talk about homosexuality? Is he a doctor? A psychologist? A professor? No! He runs a construction company. What the hell does he know about me?" I looked into Mark's eyes. "And what the hell does he know about you?"
His face flushed, and in a low tone, he hissed, "He knows nothing about me, and it's going to stay that way. If you so much as mention to anyone that we had sex, I'll deny it and claim you're just trying to make trouble."
"Mark," I tried to keep my voice calm, "all his slurs and insults are not just directed at strangers, they're aimed at me. And you."
"I am not gay." The statement hung in the air like he had dropped the final curtain on that part of his life.
"Be completely honest with me. We spent a lot of time together years ago; I think I knew you pretty well." I took a deep breath. "Do you have any erotic feelings for men? I don't mean acting on them, just fantasies."
"No!" He stood as if ready to fight.
"Okay, okay," I tried to calm him. "I just mean, sometimes it's not so black and white. Many studies say that sexuality is a spectrum, and it changes in degrees. Maybe what we had was-"
"We were just kids." He sat back down, seeming more relaxed.
"Right. Lots of guys have some attraction to other men: hero worship of a sports star or a close, loving friendship." I smiled at a thought, "Of course, there is a difference when I look at Jeff Gordon-I'm not thinking about what a great NASCAR driver he is, I want him, sexually. But Darrell Waltrip-no way!" I laughed a little at my joke, and he finally gave way to a smile.
"He is cute for a NASCAR redneck," Mark grinned. "You know, we all have to make choices."
I nodded in agreement.
"You made yours to live your life as a gay man. I decided to live my destiny."
I couldn't keep quiet. "It's not a choice. I couldn't live any other way-"
"Willpower is all you lack."
"Bullshit, Mark, I will notdeny my nature just because you do." I knew I was pushing himtoo far again. "I can't live my life sneaking around, jerking off with fitness magazines, or having an occasional anonymous encounter in a public park."
He didn't say a word. Head bowed, he didn't look at me.
Braced for his verbal or physical attack, I waited. The silence between us thickened.
Mark stood, and I readied myself with clenched fists. He walked to the window and stared for a while, then turned back to me, voice breaking. "This isn't San Francisco. People can't and won't accept what they feel is so wrong. Not everyone has the freedom to run off and do what their hormones tell them. Some of us take up the responsibility handed to us."
"My mother sent me away when I told her I was gay. I didn't run off. She didn't want other people to know-"
"The scandal would be too much."
"This is the scandal. Now, everyone in Charlotte knows I'm gay and that my uncle doesn't like it. Look," I beat my chest with my fist, "I'm still standing; the world has not stopped; it didn't kill her, and it didn't kill me."
"But you don't have a wife; you aren't vice-president in the company; you don't have business contacts all over the state." He leaned against the window frame, staring into the front yard.
"That's right, but I'm happy. I'm honest about who I am, and for the most part, people respect me for it." I walked to him and put my hand on his shoulder.
He pulled away from me. "That's easy for you to say." He picked up the paper again and waved it. "This is not a minor issue. This is sex; this is what brings careers to an end, but it will not ruin Dad's campaign. I'll see to that."
"Mark, Vernon has nothing to do with my life. Hell, I haven't talked to him in eight years; he probably wouldn't be able to pick me out of a lineup." I sat down on the old feather-stuffed sofa, sinking into it. I didn't want to tear apart the family any more than it was already. I didn't want to hurt Mark by pushing him to acknowledge his own desires. I didn't want to be here. Life had become too complicated; I wanted to go home.
Mark sat down next to me. "Will you talk to Dad's campaign manager? Maybe he can come up with a way to turn this around.''
I still loved him. For some odd reason, at that moment, I couldn't deny it. I had broken into his emotions and rediscovered the person I knew all those years ago. He wouldn't admit his desire; the price was too high. It kept him bound to the life he'd built, to the life planned for him. The young prince who felt obligated to grow into the king everyone expected-that was Mark. "Yes," I said, "I'll do what I can. Maybe this will help soften Vernon 's stance on some of the social issues."
"Don't even try," he warned.
I felt like I should at least attempt it, but I knew the old bastard would rather kiss a black man square on the lips during a news conference than change his long-held right-wing views.
GLADYS APPEARED ON Ruby's doorstep a few minutes after Mark left. The phone rang nonstop, family members wanting to congratulate me or condemn me depending on their relationship with Vernon. So, as Ruby fielded the phone calls, I was lucky enough to open the door to Gladys the Bitch.
She pushed her way through the door. "Why did you do it?" "Just to piss you off." I followed her as she circled the den before lighting on Walterene's chair next to Ruby.
"Well, you did a fine job. The whole town is talking about it. My phone has rung all morning/' she said.
I pointed to Ruby talking on the phone next to her. "Join the club, Gladys. I didn't realize I was talking to a reporter."
"So, you just tell your life history to a total stranger? I thought you had better sense than that." She appeared more haggard than usual. Her eyes were sunken into her thin tight face, hands with road map veins fiddled with the strap of her leather handbag. She looked as fragile as I had ever seen her. "You know people are trying to make Vernon fail, and this gives them plenty of ammunition."
"Why are you so concerned with Vernon 's campaign? Isn't the family fortune enough for you?"
" Vernon is moving this family beyond Charlotte. Grandfather knew we would achieve great things here, but Vernon is taking them to the next level."
"But that's Vernon," I said, "what does that do for you personally?"
"Nothing for me, but it puts Tim and Vernon 's boys in the national market. The business will expand to compete with firms from Atlanta, Washington, and New York. That is, if this mess you've started doesn't affect his campaign. Why on earth did you tell them you were part of this family?"
"Because I am, and I'm not ashamed of it, no matter what you do." I waited to see if she was listening.
"Ashamed of us? Why, you ungrateful fool. If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't be here."
Oh, so now I owed her for being brought into the world. "Yes, I know you gave me life, but how long do I have to keep repaying you for it?"
Ruby hung up the phone and shot Mother a disapproving look. "I get off the phone with one cranky old lady and have to listen to another one in my own house. Gladys, relax, it's not the end of the world." She nodded her head toward the phone. "That was Edwina. She's not quite clear on what 'gay' means. I assured her that didn't mean Derek wore women's clothes." She winked at me, and reached across the side table to playfully punch Mother's arm. "What a hoot Edwina is; could you imagine our big handsome boy here wearing a skirt and blouse? Lordy, Lordy, that would be funny."
Ruby with the giggles got me laughing. I looked at Mother; she sat stone-faced. "Oh, lighten up, Gladys. Vernon 's evil plan to take over the world is still on track."
"You two deserve each other-both crazy as loons." She pointed at me. "You need to get down to Vernon 's campaign office to straighten this out."
I decided to give her this one and not tell her I had already promised Mark I would go. "If you really think I should, I will."
Her suspicious gaze told me she doubted my sincerity. "I'm serious, Derek. You have to work with them to get this back on track."
"Mother, I said I will."
She seemed stunned, fumbling for her car keys. "Well, thank you, Derek. It's the least you could do."
Damn, she just can't let it go. "No, Mother, the least I could do is nothing. But I'll talk to his camp; I'm not saying how far I'll go for them, but I will talk to them."
After she left, I went back to the bedroom to find the book of matches with Daniel's phone number. I wanted to confront the jerk who'd caused all the trouble.
Dialing the number, I composed my message for his voicemail, but to my surprise he answered on the second ring.
"This is Derek Mason. What the hell do you think you're doing? Do you know how much trouble I'm in?"
"Hold on, hold on," Daniel tried to calm me. "I reported what I thought was public knowledge. You told me these things without hesitation."
"I didn't know you were a reporter."
"You didn't ask, and I wasn't talking to you as a reporter; I thought we were just getting acquainted over a beer, then I realized who you were, and I saw a story." He tried to make it sound so innocent. "Listen, have dinner with me tonight-as a way for me to apologize."
"You've got to be kidding. I wouldn't trust you to take anything I say off the record." I sat on the bed and flipped open the match-book, then lit a match, letting it burn down.
"Right, I understand you feeling that way, but honestly, I would like to see you again, strictly 'off the record.'"
I took a pen off the bedside table and wrote asshole over his name on the matchbook. "Sure, what about your place, tonight? You could at least fix dinner for me. What's the address?" Like I ever intended on showing up.
"That sounds great," Daniel gushed. "How about eight o'clock?"
"Fine."
" Take East Boulevard to Euclid, south two blocks, then left on Tremont. The third house on the left. It's a beige house with a green shutters."
"Cool, see you then." I hung up, smug with my little payback. I called him; he didn't have my phone number or where I was staying.
When I walked back to the den, Valerie had stopped by. Ruby fixed chicken salad sandwiches in the kitchen…
"I hear you've had an exciting morning," Valerie said as she glanced at the tattered newspaper. "Looks like this paper has had a lot of handling."
"Yeah, Mark, Ruby, me, Mother, we've all taken our aggressions out on it. So, how's your morning at work been?"
"Not this exciting." She looked impressive in her olive business suit; her black hair had a few strands of gray, but it made her appear more serious, more mature, like someone I would want to do my taxes. "So," she began, "how'd this happen?"
I sighed, and started into the story I had recounted over and over, but with Valerie I added the part about how handsome Daniel was. I even included the payback, no-show dinner I had set up with him.
"Derek, that's not nice. This poor guy will be cooking all evening, then waiting for you to show." She frowned at me and shook her head side to side like Ruby does when she talks about our brother Tim.
"Well, he deserves to be stood up, after what he did to me."
"All he did was talk to a cute guy, then find out you were related to a jerk running for Senate who verbally bashes gays. I don't know if I wouldn't have done the same thing." She thought for a moment. "But I guess I would have talked to you about the article first."
Ruby yelled from the kitchen, "That's notnice, to stand up a date."
"It's not a date," I yelled back, then to Valerie I said, "I just wanted to hurt him back…" I realized how juvenile it sounded as I said it. "Okay, I'll call him and let him know I won't be there."
"That would be the right thing to do," she smiled in a motherly way. Too bad she never had kids. She would've made a great mother. I wondered where she got that from, not Gladys the Bitch.
Ruby called us in for lunch; we gathered around the table, and then the phone rang.
"I thought I had that thing off the hook," Ruby huffed. "Derek, it's for you. Bill Robertson, Vernon 's campaign manager."
"Shit," I stood to get it, then decided to wait. "Tell him I'll call him after lunch."
Ruby came back to the table with his name and phone number scribbled on the back of an envelope. "He sounded like a nice man. Maybe you should take Valerie with you when you go."
"No way," Valerie protested, "I would never get involved with someone working onVernon 's campaign. He's bound to be a Republican, and I'm a Democrat." She smiled at Ruby. "It would never work."
"All I said was that you might go with him," Ruby exclaimed, "and you were all ready to pick out china patterns."
We finished lunch, and I called Mr. Robertson back. I agreed to meet with him and Vernon later that afternoon. My thoughts went back to Daniel and the dinner. Maybe I should go; it wouldn't be nice to stand him up. Besides, I've always thought it best to keep a close eye on people I shouldn't trust.