For all those that made the journey from chapter one to chapter two. I thank you. This is a slow burner, if you are looking for something hotter and faster, I will not be offended if you moved to another story. I do promise that it does get hotter soon. I would like to thank my editor 1moeannie, who has become a tremendous source of support. I would also like to thank Wax Philosophic. She continues to provide me with positive feedback. Please take the time to search out both of their names on the Lit site, and use both as a resource and inspiration.
“And it’s hard to love, there’s so much to hate. Hanging on to hope. When there is no hope to speak of. And the wounded skies above say it’s much much too late. Well maybe we should all be praying for time”.
Praying for Time — George Michael
Bill
“I love you Adam”
The wake for Adam was a few days later, the funeral the following morning. It was a closed casket with a picture of Adam on top of the casket as a teenager. He had a suit on, holding some kind of award. Even as a teenager, he had a beautiful smile.
I think this is how his family wanted to remember him. So young, pure, and full of hope, hope for what the future would hold for him.
Any picture of Adam as an adult, would be a reminder of the shortness of his life and how he died.
I remember the short time Adam and I spent together. How we laughed, how we would sit on his balcony talking all night. How quickly we became close friends.
Suddenly it dawned on me, the years we were apart, could have been spent together. Should have been spent together. This is forgiveness, I do not think I will ever get.
God, life sucks!
During the wake, the local priest said nice words about Adam as a child, most likely coached by a family member, nothing about him as an adult. No one spoke about how he could remember every name that came into the bar or how he would remember their drink.
No one will remember the stories his customers shared and how Adam, upon seeing them again, would often ask “How this person is doing, or how is the job or any other concern.”
No one will remember how he would serve me a beer, making me feel as if I was the only person in the room. I remember how we would steal glances at one another and know that even though we were scared, we knew that our friendship was special.
We cherished those times together, for no other reason than we both felt these were our times, our favorite times, and no one could steal them from us.
This is really going to hurt for a while.
As the priest finished his speech, he finally said “Is there anyone else who would like to share a story about Adam?”
Vivian was distraught, so heartbroken she barely kept it together. She could not say a thing. Adam’s family all had the same facial expression. Either it was “I can’t believe he’s gone” or “I can believe he was gay. It was the same shocked expression. Someone had to say something.
I stood up, took a breath, and exhaled.
“I would like to say something.” All eyes were now on me. Vivian reached for my hand, and squeezed tightly.
“I do not want to remember Adam as a child, or even as an adult, and how he lived”.
“I want to remember Adam, for how he would have lived.”
“Adam worked at a bar, but that was not who he was.”
Damn, this will be harder than I thought!
“Adam was an incredible person.” Vivian held my hand tightly. “He had the gift to reach into your heart, and pull out all the good stuff, so you could share it. With a tilt of his head and that beautiful grin, he just put you at ease”.
Most of the people in the room let out a laugh, understanding what I was talking about.
“Adam was a designer, he had a talent for standing in the middle of an empty room, and seeing it completed.”
“Where I see black and white, Adam saw vivid color.”
“Adam wanted to be a designer, he would watch This Old House and come up with better ideas than the host of every show. He was so talented, I just hope that everyone in this room, appreciated that talent.”
Tears formed in my eyes. “I am sure that he would have left the bar, and found his calling.”
Then I said something, that I did not even think I would ever say. “Adam would have found love.”
Vivian let go of my hand, and starting rubbing my arm for comfort. She was really the only one that knew of the pain I was in and the pain that I believed I caused.
I closed my eyes, and I imagined Adam in front of me. I simply reached out as if I was going to touch his face. I knew now what I knew two years ago, but was afraid to say it. Keeping my eyes closed, and speaking just above a whisper.
“Adam and I would love each other and grow old together.” My right hand imagining that I am still touching his cheek.
“We would walk through life hand in hand, and I would be by his side, till our time came,” A slight smile on my face.
I opened my eyes; my tears are now a steady stream. “There would be no sorrows.”
Now looking directly at his family members.
“There would be only times of love and laughter.” I spoke in a low whisper that I am not sure anyone could even hear “I’m sorry, I was not strong enough.”
When I finished my speech, I looked down at Vivian, who was still crying, and I gave her a kiss on the cheek. I walked out of the funeral home. I never spoke to anyone in Adam’s family, and I believe they were ok with that.
“Don’t let yourself go. Cause everybody cries. And everybody hurts sometimes”
Everybody Hurts — REM
Vivian
Fall of 1990
I looked at Bill as I walked from the stage to the end of the bar. “You know you can sit somewhere else once in a while or at least give me a dollar for my efforts.”
Some people change, and some people are stuck or damaged. Bill was one of those people who was damaged, and just didn’t know how to get fixed.
“I am not the dollar in a G-string type,” Bill said to me with a sad smile.
“The fact that your gay doesn’t help either.”
Bill looked at me “Yeah, I’m sure that is a roadblock too.”
Bill never officially came out as gay, I think the funeral speech at least in my mind, provided that final confirmation.
This is basically what has happened the last two years. Bill would walk in, sit at the end of the bar, order a beer, and just sit there.
I would sit with him between my sets, have a beer with him and we’d talk until he decided to go home.
Sometimes we left together, I would drive him home, but he would never really talk about anything, just simply look out the window. He was lost and I’m not sure if he would ever find his way back if someone didn’t help him.
Bill
Winter of 1990
You ran away, you could have saved him! If you were with him, he would not have gotten AIDs. You were a scared faggot!
You got one thing right, you never deserved his love. Don’t really deserve anyone’s love.
It seems I run through that little mind ritual daily. A reminder of what I did, more importantly, what I didn’t do.
I stayed in New Jersey, having gotten a promotion to engineer a new product line. My parents were happy to have me home. I didn’t come out to them, never even told them about Adam’s funeral.
They asked “How was my friend doing”?
I always gave them a quick “He’s ok.” If they ever knew that he died of AIDs and I hung around with him… Facts or not, their heads would spin like the Exorcist.
After a while, they just stopped bringing it up. The newest thing on their agenda was “When are you going to find a girl and settle down?”
Yeah, telling them I’m gay after that conversation, was just about par for my life.
Winters in Utah are bad, just fucking cold. You would walk outside and the cold wind would suck air out of your lungs.
The winters in Jersey are different. Fucking cold, but ugly. As much as spring and summer brought Jersey to life, winter was just down right depressing.
As in Utah, I would go to work, come home, eat dinner, go chat with Vivian at the bar, and repeat. Hours turned into days, and days turned into weeks. I suddenly found my new best friend was a lesbian dancer named Vivian.
As a friend, I would like to say that we took care of each other. But there was no question that Vivian did all the heavy lifting in our friendship. Like I said “work, come home, eat dinner.”
I walk into the bar, towards my usual seat. Next to my seat sits a young woman, sipping a glass of wine. I would say she either was a dancer; I just haven’t seen before or a new dancer auditioning. Spiky black hair, full sleeve tattoo’s over both arms, dressed in tight jeans and a Wonder Women t-shirt. She is a dead ringer for Joan Jett. As I get closer to my seat, she turns and faces me.
“Bill? My name is Trixie.” She extends her hand, “I am Vivian’s girlfriend.”
Now that she is facing me, I can see that the tattoos are not just on her arms, but on her whole body. Her neck is completely covered. Black and Grey rose tattoos on both sides of her neck, being joined to the front with petals and stems. I don’t have any tattoos; I can only imagine that it had to hurt.
“Hi Trixie, nice to meet you,” I extend my hand.
She has one of those smiles that says, “Yes, I’m sexy and I know it.”
“Vivian should be done in a few minutes.” She tells me.
Not sure what to do, I sit down on my normal stool “Great, thanks.”
I just sit there, my beer automatically comes, and I take a sip.
God, I hate being a regular!
Trixie gives me a look “So we finally meet?”
She goes on “Vivian tells me you’re her best friend?”
I smile, nice to be recognized. “Yes, I believe it’s by default.”
Trixie laughing loud enough that anyone in the bar could hear her.
“That means, that we are best friends by default too.”
Great, the only friends I have in the world are go-go dancing lesbians!
“So” Trying to figure out what to say. “What brings you to the bar.”
Trixie, taking a sip of wine. “Vivian thinks I could pick up a few spots here.”
She turns, looks me in the eyes, “And, we want you to move in with us”
At that point I choke on my beer. “Excuse me!”
Trixie reaches for my hand and holds it tightly, “Vivian tells me you do two things.”
I look at Trixie with an expression that shows my surprise at being the center of conversation in a lesbian’s home.
“You sleep, and you stare at the four walls.”
Defensively I tell her “Not true, I am here evenings, mingling.”
Trixie looks around, notices that the bartender, her and myself make three people in the bar. The real business is in the connecting go-go room.
Trixie smiles, “Mingling? What is the bartenders name?”
I really haven’t a clue what the bartenders name was. I only knew he took Adam’s place and I really didn’t care to know him.
“His name is Joe, Joe the bartender,” I said as I was putting the sentence together in slow motion.
Trixie now grinning ear to ear “You want to go with that?”
With perfect timing, Vivian walks up to us, having just finished her set.
Vivian is all smiles as she sees Trixie. Trixie is the same way. Vivian walks past me and puts her hand behind Trixie’s head, pulls her in for a deep kiss. The kiss is intense and I am the odd man out in the short conversation.
Finally, Vivian stops, and looks flushed and out of breath “You know how horny I get when I dance”
Trixie with the same flushed out of breath look “I’ll fuck you later baby.”
If this interaction occurred on the dance floor in the other room, I am sure the dollars would be in piles.
Vivian looking at the both of us “So, where do we stand?”
Trixie, looking directly at Vivian “Bill is moving in.”
My jaw is on the floor “I never said that and I have a place!”
Vivian looks at me “Billy-Boy!”
Vivian realizes her mistake and before she can say another word, I look Vivian straight in the eyes. “You don’t get to use that name,” I pause and stammer, “That name!” I say through my teeth and then turn around and start to walk out.
Vivian grabs my arm, spins me around and places her arms around my neck. She whispers in my ear. “Adam was my friend too, and I lost him.” Her voice is breaking. “Every night I see you at this bar, looking for his ghost or something.”
Her arms tighten around my neck. “I am not going to lose you too.”
I lean into her ear, “I’m not going anywhere.”
Trixie was now rubbing Vivian’s back. She knows that Vivian has a stream of tears running down her face.
Vivian pulls me in even tighter “I know, you’re stuck!”
Fuck, I concur!
One month later, I was moved in. Two lesbians and a gay man. I am sure that is an opening line for a joke somewhere!
“Do kittens die on Christmas? Do monkeys like the zoo? Oh Ohh, I haven’t got a clue, oh whoa Oh no, I haven’t got a clue”
Haven’t Got a Clue — Dramarama
Bill
Winter of 1991
I do not care what anyone says about the difference between men and women. Women are just as much slobs, if they want to be. In some cases, way more disgusting in very different ways.
The three of us lived together for the better part of a year. We are the 90’s version of “Three’s Company.” They actually started calling me “Trip” for Jack Tripper. Vivian and Trixie were crazy for each other.
It was like watching live porn, they would openly fondle, grope, finger each other in front of me. It was like since I was gay, they got a free pass to do anything in front of me. I could hear the conversation between them. “It’s ok’s he’s gay.”
They always found time to stop what they were doing, draw each other into an embrace, deeply kiss while having hands all over each other’s body.
Times where Trixie or Vivian would be just in underwear, I could always peek and see one or both of their thighs wet.
Most of the time Vivian would say “We’ll be right back.” They would leave for their bedroom, then come back into the kitchen sweating as if they ran a marathon.
The number of toys these two women had, boggled my mind. I mean I would hand wash glasses and dishes and I would see dildos and butt plugs and things I didn’t even have a name for right next to the dishes. I’m not even sure that was sanitary!
The only thing I was sure of, was that Trixie was definitely the top in the relationship. Vivian loved to give control to her. It was always Trixie leading Vivian to the bedroom.
Me on the other hand, I remained as Vivian said, not too long ago, “stuck”. The only difference between now and before, is the fact that I actually had good friends to keep me from going insane.
Vivian and Trixie were exactly that. Good friends. They made a point of making me eat a few meals together every week. We would have “date” night and watch TV and eat bad popcorn. We talked and laughed, and on occasions my thoughts would drift from Adam, I would start thinking about life.
Vivian
Spring 1991
Bill or “Trip” as I loved to call him, tortured himself, endlessly. When I thought he was finally moving on, he would pull himself back to Adam. It was sad, I could see it in his eyes, he knew he was damaged, and he didn’t care to fix it.
There were moments when Trip seemed happy! During date nights we would all laugh so hard. It would seem that our sides would split open. It was so much fun seeing Trip happy. Like I said, then he’d catch himself and go back into Bill mode.
Trixie on the other hand was magic! That women never tired and she had a mouth that could eat me for days. Before Trip moved in, she would use our strap on and fuck me on every piece of furniture in our condo, she loved to bend me over the couch arm and fuck me till I saw stars.
I never came fast before Trixie, but she got me so wet, then she would take two fingers and stick them into me, like a hot iron to butter, just slid into me.
There were nights I am sure the Bill slept with pillows covering his ears. Trixie was never shy and she loved being loud. Damn, that women got me so wet.
Trixie and I took our customary seats on the couch. I always made an effort to have Trip sit in the middle.
“Trip, get your ass out here!” I got up and turned on the TV. “Jump Street is on!” Trixie always teased Trip about Johnny Depp.
“And I don’t want to see any wet spots in the front of your pants!” Trixie adding a remark from the couch.
Trip walks out to the living room, eyeing Trixie. “Keep your eyes off my pants and focus on your girlfriend.”
Trip sits down between us “And I would not talk about wet spots if I were either of you.” Trip was raising his voice with each spoken word.
Both Trixie and I looked at one another with our eyes wide and laughed so loud “The roommate lines have officially been crossed.”
“I would like a place I could call my own. Have a conversation on the telephone. Wake up every day, that would be a start. I would not complain of my wounded heart.”
Regret — New Order
Bill
Spring of 1993
The party at our place was in full swing. Vivian, Trixie and I were celebrating our third anniversary as roommates. Vivian called everyone into the living room for a speech.
Vivian had her arm around Trixie and my waists. On the outside looking in, it was a strange sight. Vivian removed her arm from around my waist, picked up a glass of champagne, and called for everyone’s attention.
“Guys, I just like to thank everyone for coming tonight” Raising her glass in the air. “Trix, and Trip have been the best roommates a girl can ask for.”
Vivian was now getting emotional and paused. “Baby,” Looking at Trixie, “You have given me more than I could possibly ask for.”
With a tilt of the head and a dirty grin. “But I am always going to ask for more.” With that, the crowd laughed.
Trixie sticking out her tongue to tease Vivian. “Don’t worry, I’ll have you begging for more later.” With that, Vivian turned all shades of red.
When the crowd stopped laughing and toasting Vivian’s speech, I stepped forward.
“While I don’t have any innuendos to share with you all.” Turning to Vivian and Trixie, and raising my glass as if I was toasting them both.
“I want to thank you both for saving me,” The crowd suddenly grew quiet. “I was walking through life in a daze. I am not sure I wanted to get out of this daze.” Tears forming in Trixie, Vivian’s and even my eyes.
“For the longest time, I felt I deserved it. Both of you never let me quit on myself.” Looking down at my shoes “Even when I wanted too, you both would drag me back from the end of my rope.
I do not know what I would be doing now if it had not been for the both of you.” I raised my head and looked at both of my roommates, my closest friends. “I love you both.”
Vivian and Trixie walked to me and both put their arms around me and we all hugged for a few minutes. Everyone in the room let out a collective “Awwww.”
I said one last thing. “Can you both now, wash your toys in the bathroom. Please!”
Since it was a nice spring evening, I sat by myself in one of our Adirondack chairs in our yard. It was peaceful.
After the longest time I came to terms with what I felt towards Adam and my responsibility, being in the closet, and thinking how to come to terms with being gay, coming out. It was a lot to think about, but finally I felt I had time.
“You got the best seat in the house.” I heard from behind me.
Not recognizing the voice, I turned around and looked in the direction the voice was coming from.
I remember the day Adam and I met; I remember all the days in between. Just like I remember the day Peter and I met.
End of Chapter 2