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31

 

July 5

It has been quite the weekend. Lance's car wreck was major. It changed our plans, but hopefully changed his life — for the better.

All my worries really came to a head. I think maybe it scared him too. Maybe, just maybe, he will stop drinking.

Talking with his father, I think I understand a little more why Lance is the way he is. I can see why he might not want to admit he was gay. I'm sure his brother has no idea he had such a harsh impact on Lance's perspective. It's really kind of sad.

 

Mike and I tried to think of something to do for the day that everyone else who was off wasn't going to be doing. We hoped to avoid crowds. As it turned out, that was planting some flowers in his backyard. So, it wasn't exciting, but it was time the two of us spent together. Heaven knows he had committed so much time to drama from my life, focusing on him was good.

The yard looked beautiful. We watched the sunset from chairs on his back deck, finally getting around to that bottle of wine. We didn't have sex that night, but it was still romantic.

 

—

 

We picked up Lance to get him a few things he would need as well as get the prescription filled.

"How's Evan fitting in?" Mike asked.

"Good," Lance answered. "So that you know, my dad and I told him about the drinking. He's aware that I'm going to stop. Try to stop. No! I will stop. Damn it."

`You've gone a couple days, right?" I said.

"Yes."

"And ...?" I encouraged.

"I don't know. I'm not like a crazed drunk to where I'm thinking, `I MUST have a drink.' It just feels like ... like I should get up off the couch and go get one. I'm sure people who give up cigarettes have all sorts of insane feelings in their body that they need to smoke; that's not it for me. I just want one but don't have to have one. Sadly, I didn't just have one. I would have four. Or more. Still, my whole body seems ... off. It's weird. Keeping myself distracted helps. And the pain killers."

"How's the wrist?" I asked.

"Hurts like hell. It doesn't seem to be getting better. Strangely parts of my upper body are turning purple too. It's three days after the wreck. Why now?"

"Give it time. All that will take care of itself," said Mike.

"The good news is I'm better at showers. Evan wraps my hand in the living room and then I can take care of myself. Taking a dump is ten times harder."

"Ew." My face wrinkled. "I can only imagine."

We picked up a couple of gloves to make it easier for Lance to shower. They also offered a better sling than the simple one the hospital gave. Lance was supposed to only have to use it a few more days, but he opted for a new one.

"Have you thought about work?" Mike asked.

"Yes. They know of the car wreck. They don't know it was alcohol related. I'm trying to keep that under wraps, particularly since I'm going cold turkey. The car is beyond repair, so that's totaled. I'll ride my bike for a few days. I do have to see a judge tomorrow about the accident.

"Yikes."

"Yeah. Not sure how that will turn out."

We returned to his apartment. Lance offered me a Diet Coke. I told him I was hoping to write some on the play, so we would be ducking out. Evan reported for his first day at work.

"Will you be okay? Want us to pick up dinner?" Mike offered.

"You're sweet, but Evan was going to grab us Chinese on the way home. He saw a place he wanted to try. It's been nice reconnecting with him. He's a good guy. He seems so much more ... professional ... now than when we were kids. Well, duh, obviously."

We moved toward the door. Mike kissed Lance on the cheek.

I gave him a hug. "Heal. Be careful. Stay strong. Love you."

"Love you too," he returned. "Love you both."

A simple kiss on the lips and we departed.

 

—

 

I worked three hours on the play script. I didn't even notice that I had worked through dinner. I ate an apple and kept going. It's funny how the notes from the back of the journal were transforming into actual script.

 

July 6

It was nothing like I thought the weekend would be. In some ways, it was incredibly better. We didn't see anything, go anywhere, but I connected with people I loved. More importantly, Lance seems to be on the right track. I pray, pray, pray he can stay with it.

 

—

 

For the first time, one of the on-air personalities had me say something on air. That was a rush. It was just for 30 seconds, but they said I was a "natural." I am so very glad that I chose this job.

I called Lance to see if he went into work.

"Half days for this week, then I'll go back full-time next week. Thankfully, it is my left wrist and not my right; I would have really been screwed. But everyone was sympathetic and supportive, so I think I should be fine."

"Jason didn't offer to come take care of you?" I jokingly asked.

"Right. Hardly. But believe it or not, he was incredibly kind. He can be superficial, but there is a kind heart in there under all that style. Somewhere."

"How do you feel?"

"Slightly less pain today. Bruises look a little better. But I did see the judge this morning."

"Uh oh."

"Because of the level of alcohol, he suspended my license indefinitely."

"What do you have to do?!" I asked, alarmed.

"Ten AA meetings. Once I bring back a signed form, then the suspension is lifted. I guess I don't have to rush out to get a car. I'll be on my bike awhile."

That evening, I looked for places online. Lance did too. It looked like there were a couple places he could go to meetings. They were offered at different times, I guess to work with various people's schedules. There were a lot in the evenings, so that helped. The place that looked best was the closest to him.

"There's an open meeting tomorrow night," I said into the phone. "I can go with you to that one. Want me to come?"

"I would like that very much."

 

—

 

I got a text from Dad near the end of my shift.

"May I call?"

"I'm at work, but I will call you when I get home."

For some reason, the message sent my heart racing. What would he say? How would I react to it?

I dropped work materials on the kitchen table. I poured myself a glass of tea from the pitcher in the fridge. I sat down. I put both hands on the table. I spread my fingers for some unknown reason. My fingertips gripped the artificial wood veneer. I exhaled and decided to call Dad.

"Hello, son. I'm glad you called."

"Yeah. How is Mom? How are you and Mom?"

"Well, she misses you like the dickens. Every time she walks by your room and sees it empty, she lets out a sigh."

"What do you all plan to do with it?"

"Maybe an office. Your mother hasn't sewn in years, maybe she will get back into that, and it can be a sewing room. We're not sure. There's no rush."

"Um hm." I had no idea how to steer the conversation.

"Trent, I've been thinking. A lot. I talked to Robert. That helped. I'm working at accepting that you ..."

"...are gay. I'm gay, Dad. Let me hear you say it."

"Right." He paused. Then the silence was broken. "I understand you are gay. I guess I knew that was a possibility for some time. I just figured you might work your way through it or something."

"Through it? It's not a tunnel, Dad. I don't come out the other end and say `Well, now I like women.' It's just who I am. I was ... I was miserable for years, Dad. I'm glad that is behind me. I prefer being happy."

"And that's it. I wanted you to be happy. I pictured you with a beautiful wife, and your mother and I would come visit grandchildren. I just wanted you to have a great life. I wanted you to be happy."

"And I am! I'm the happiest I've been in years. I love my job, I have my own place, and I'm totally in love with someone who loves me."

"I see. Well, yes, that is good." He paused again. "It's not Lance, is it?"

"No. But it is someone who loves me and helped me get through all this."

"He's not a drug addict, is he?"

"Good grief, no!!! Honestly, Dad! What kind of question is that?"

"I ... I ... just don't know. It's all new to me, Trent."

"And, you know, it shouldn't be. Gay people are probably close to 10% of the population. How has our family kept this out of our lives? We have interracial friends, people of both political parties. This isn't anything new. Why have we shielded our family from these regular people?"

"I guess — and I'm ashamed to say — I thought gay people chose not to be regular people. Robert helped me understand that's not the case."

"Right. I'm just the same son you've known your whole life. Nothing's different, except that I can now breathe and be honest and actually be happy."

"I'm trying, Trent. I just wanted you to know that I love you."

That was nice to hear. You'd think those words would have a great impact. But the hurt didn't just go away. The wounds didn't magically heal. I was glad he said it, but I'm not sure I was ready to forgive. I didn't have any desire to say it back. Yet.

"I'm glad we talked, Dad. I appreciate you reaching out."

We hung up. I exhaled for what seemed like five minutes.

Thank goodness I had to go pick up Lance. That would keep me from spiraling down into that hole.

I said hello to Evan as he answered the door. Lance was in the bathroom. I confided to Evan that I wanted him to call me at the first sign of any alcohol. I apologized that the circumstances prevented him from having any at the apartment, for now at least. He was cool. Although not a big drinker, he said he could always get something going out. We briefly talked about his work before Lance came out.

"Ready?"

"Kind of scared, but yeah."

"Don't be scared. We just sit and listen. It'll be okay."

As we drove, I told him about my phone call with Dad. I think he appreciated the attention being off him for a moment. Lance was very supportive of me. Like he always is. He had my back. I couldn't ask for a better friend. Well, one that didn't have to go to an AA meeting could be a slight improvement.

As we walked down the hall, I noticed LGBTQ Services on one window. It was a small room, but it was interesting to know it was there. There were Food Services, Women Services, Employment Services ... I had no idea. The last meeting room, 6C, was where the meeting was taking place.

There were about 40 chairs lined up in five rows. A podium was at the front. Lance and I sat on the next to back row close to the end. By the time the meeting started, about 30 people had come. I looked around. Some people looked positively homeless, while some looked like they had just come from a CEO's office. It was a mix. A few were very old, most people looked in their 30s and 40s, but there were a few younger ones.

I listened to Lance breathe. I could tell it was not his regular breathing. He looked down at the floor. He was scared. I saw his hand trembling. It scared me a little. I grabbed his hand. He squeezed it like I was keeping him from falling off a cliff.

A chairperson welcomed everyone. The Serenity Prayer was recited. Most people said it, but not everyone. Lance looked up after a few people had gone to the front to share.

Madison spoke about how it had been three months since she left an abusive household. Her husband had tried to talk her into coming back, but she said she was proud she had resisted. But she was scared that she wouldn't be able to support herself.

Jakob said he had been in the shelter for four weeks now and things had gotten better. Having a bed was a blessing, even though it was more of a cot. He wondered how his world had gotten to the point that a bed was a major milestone.

Cecilia said her mother called her filthy names today. She knew it was out of anger because Cecilia was getting better and doing something with her life, and yet her mother was still drinking.

Cooper was an incredibly handsome man. He spoke of telling his wife that he was gay. Lance immediately looked up. Cooper was in love with a coworker but didn't know the right thing to do with his wife. She had asked him to leave.

Isaac said he had taken a drink for the first time in three months. He was starting all over again. His son had said he would never come see him again.

Janine had lost her job. The third one this year. It wasn't because of drinking, just her inability to respond to customers appropriately. She didn't know what she was going to do.

Gerald said today was his tenth year of being completely sober. That received an extra loud round of applause. Everyone clapped after each share, but this one was noticeably supportive.

We heard a few more. People stood up getting ready to leave once the meeting ended. Lance still had a death grip on my hand.

"Are you okay?"

"I guess."

"Let's go talk to Ophelia."

Lance got the form and worked his way to the front.

"Hi, I'm Lance."

"Hi, Lance. Oh, I see a court order. Do you need me to sign?"

He nodded.

"Your first time? Here, let me get you this welcome chip. It signifies 24 hours without drinking."

"It's been five days," Lance softly said.

"That's a good start. Very good. I don't have a chip for that. The next one is One Month. You didn't share tonight. Not everyone does their first time." She looked at me. "And who are you?"

"I'm his friend, Trent. I came for support."

"Thank you, Trent. Welcome."

"We have regular meetings, so I hope to see you again, Lance. Some nights are closed meetings — members only — so Trent can't join you on those, but there are open meetings throughout the week too."

"Thank you," said Lance.

Ophelia was a beautiful Black woman, probably in her 40s. She had a comforting voice. When she handed the form back to Lance after signing it, he offered a slight smile. It was the only time he had done so during the whole meeting.

We walked to the car. Lance got in and his head leaned back on the headrest like he was trying to push it through it. He let out a huge exhale.

"Well?" I asked.

"I don't know. When we went in, I was scared. I'm not sure of what. I think it was of actually being an alcoholic. Then people started talking. Hearing their problems, they seemed awful. I thought, `I don't belong here. I'm not like these people.' Then I realized a common thread. None of them intended to drink too much; it just happened. Then when I kept hearing how drinking impacted parts of their lives, I realized, I'm exactly like these people. How did I get to this place? What have I done?"

At his apartment, Lance placed the chip on a clip magnetized to the fridge. He told Evan and me that he wanted to see it to make sure he didn't ever put beer in the fridge again. I told him I was proud of him.

At home I called Mike and reported it went pretty well. He was also happy to hear I reconnected with Dad. Probably happier than me. Tonight was powerful. I was wondering how easily I would fall asleep. Despite how chaotic life had seemed to become, I tried to focus on the forward steps — Dad, Lance's AA meeting, my relationships at the station. I still couldn't sleep. I decided to write.

July 8

Lance attended his first meeting. I was proud. He was very scared, but I think he will fit in. The group seemed very welcoming. Lots of people with issues, but I think that lets everyone know they are not alone; they don't have to hide.

He has gone five days. That is a start. That's a big start. I'm glad Evan is there. He is probably a better influence than me. I was just a reminder of what he couldn't have.

 

My alarm would go off in less than seven hours. Since Mike and I have sex somewhat regularly, I don't often masturbate. I decided to take matters in hand. I was hoping it would help me sleep. I hadn't worked my dick solo in so long. It was nice. It felt both a bit lonely and yet also personal. My thoughts drifted to Mike. I momentarily envisioned that Cooper fellow from the meeting, but then went back to Mike. By now, I knew every inch of Mike's body. All the parts that were masculine to me penetrated my brain.

For some stupid reason I thought of Dad. While progress had been made, I knew he didn't understand. How long would the whole gay concept be a mystery?

I started to lose my erection.

My thoughts circled back to Mike. I told Dad he made me happy. He does. I felt happier because I knew it was "love happy" and not "sex happy." But the sex was good. Really good. Fucking good. I thought of fucking Mike. I thought of Mike fucking me. My grip on my dick mimicked the sensation of being inside his body. My fingers felt the soft, light hair on my chest. I envisioned the savage hair on his upper body and my fingers strolling through it all. My senses swam in everything Mike. I curled my tongue inside my mouth, pretending it wrapped around his cock. I was hard. I was hot. I was gay. I could feel my body luxuriate in all things male. My crotch throbbed. My breathing panted. My back arched and my ass lifted off the bed.

Cum shot all over me.

Five minutes after I wiped my chest, I drifted off.

 

* * * *

 

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