CHAPTER 12: A DANCE OF VICTORY… and THE AGONY OF DEFEAT or SHOULD THAT BE OF A FOOT?

ON THE WAY TO BABYLON

BRIAN:

I figured that since Justin and I were already downtown this evening, we might as well check on things at the Club. Brett, Connor, and Ru decided to tag along in the company of Emmett and Ted, who were coming anyway. Strangely, that doesn’t bother me as much as who else is coming along. Miranda, Melanie, and Leda. WHY?! I mean, it would be different if it was Dyke Night, but it’s not. I shake my head in consternation and bewilderment, listening to the conversations happening between Justin and the other passengers in other cars as I weave in and out of traffic through the streets of Pittsburgh. It’s times like this I wish three-way calling was never invented.

“The good thing is that Drag Show is happening in one of the upper halls tonight so there will be plenty for everyone to get into if the Club atmosphere is not something they’re into,” Justin, junior party-planner extraordinaire, tells Emmett.

“True. I would imagine that RuPaul, particularly, will be interested in that. I hear he’s always looking for talent for the show. Too bad Divina is too old to compete, but maybe she’ll be alright as a guest judge.”

“Sure, Em. I mean with 150 years of experience, how could he NOT want to dress in drag and judge the wannabes?” I couldn’t help but ask, sarcastically.

“Brian…”

“Hey, you can’t blame me, Sunshine. The two of you are acting like this excursion to Babylon is a fucking pleasure cruise.”

“What’s the matter, Kinney? Feeling cranky because you’re not getting enough fiber in your diet?” Melanie’s voice comes over the line, laughter edging her voice.

“No, Smelly Melly, but then you should recognize the signs since you’re always full of shit.”

“Now children, can the inappropriate humor, would you?” Emmett says, assuming the role of referee. “What’s really your damage, Brian?”

I have to think about that for a moment, before answering. I can feel Justin’s eyes beaming into the side of my skull, and know already that he’s kind of figured it out. So I decide to be as honest as I can be in this moment. “I’m just a bit annoyed. Lindsay…”

“Is going to fail as per usual, Brian,” Justin reassures me.

“That may be true, Sunshine, but I still don’t like the shit she’s pulling.”

“Hey, if I have to ignore her then so do you, Brian. We have businesses to run, contracts to complete, and work to begin, along with me having to deal with this competition. Lindsay’s attention-seeking stunts are not something we have to deal with directly. She’ll either burn out, or crash and burn. You can’t save her from herself. It’s something you should have realized by now.”

I sigh. “I’m not trying to save her, Sunshine. I just want her to stop.”

“You and I both, Brian,” Melanie says wearily over the phone. “But we both also know she isn’t going to. So I say we enjoy the free entertainment while we do what we have to do in order to protect our businesses, and Justin.”

“So basically, there’s nothing we can do?”

“Not a thing that won’t make us look like the bad guys.”

“But I’ve always liked being known as the bad guy. It means I don’t have to respect any boundaries.”

“You know, Brian, you just did a remarkable impression of Michael there,” Mel snickers, and I gasp.

“Eww, you’re right, Mel,” Justin joins in. “Brian, I order you to never do that again. His voice makes my balls want to shrivel up and my dick want to take a permanent vacation.”

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” I ask, rhetorically. “So I guess we should set some ground rules for the visitors to the Club tonight.”

“Oh good!” Miranda exclaims. “I want to visit the infamous Backroom that Justin’s told me so much about.”

“Oh hell NO! Sunshine!”

“Miranda, that area of the Club is most certainly off limits. You will just have to use your very vivid imagination,” Justin hurriedly explains.

“Aww, you guys are no fun.” I can tell she’s pouting.

“Just think of us as the Headmasters of an all boys private school.”

“Headmasters being the operative word,” Emmett laughs. “Don’t worry, Big Bad. Tits and twats shall not sully the vaunted halls of boys and balls.”

“Ugh! Thanks for that very unwanted visual, Emmett,” Mel sighs.

“Oh you’re welcome,” Emmett responds cheerfully, making all of us laugh.

“Hmm, Brian, I’ve been thinking…” Justin begins.

“A dangerous pastime…”

“I know. But it’s mainly in reference to what Lindsay is bound to try next.”

“Go on.”

“Well, since she can’t exactly team up with Stacy in the ally-sense, Lindsay is still going to heed whatever ill-thought out advice she’ll give her.”

“True. But what does that have to do with the competition?” Miranda asks over the phone.

“Not much, except that this is mine and Brian’s stomping ground. There are plenty of people she could choose from as diversionary tactics go, thinking that it will either distract me from the competition or cause me to quit to keep my partner from committing bloody murder,” Justin reasons.

“You’re talking about the long list of Taylor-Kinney tricks?” Mel adds.

“Indeed, I am,” Justin answers. “Although everyone knows of our no-repeat rule, it doesn’t mean that men haven’t tried to change our minds and then became pissed when it didn’t happen. Since she has unlimited access to Michael, who always paid more attention to our exploits than his own husband, she’s bound to have a ready list of our disgruntled conquests at her hand.”

“I heard that Deb threatened an entire diner full of people with castration earlier today. I can’t imagine any of them going against her without some sort of assurance of safety from her wrath,” Emmett says.

“That may be true, but we all know that there is nothing worse than a woman, or a queer, scorned. If they can get away with getting even in an attempt to regain their pride…”

“Then they would be willing to risk just about anything to restore their standing on the Avenue,” Emmett says, catching onto Justin’s way of thinking. “The only problem I see in trying to prepare for that particular attack is that you and Brian don’t exchange names or numbers with your tricks. Sure, they know you since the two of you are rather infamous, but the same can’t be said about your cum dumpsters of the minute, hour, or night.”

“But then there are also the ones who have wanted us to fuck them, and Justin found them not up to our standards.”

“Wait a minute! You mean you two decide together?” Leda asked, in obvious awe.

“Brian and Justin have been doing that since the second year they were together. It’s kind of a game between them. Justin picks the guy and fucks him, while Brian brings up the rear so to speak,” Emmett informs them.

It’s amazing what he knows about Justin’s and my sex life. I will have to talk to Sunshine about that.

“The one rule they have is that Justin’s ass is off limits to anyone but Brian. So if Justin doesn’t want to fuck the guy, it’s not going to happen, even if Brian does.” Emmett continues.

“Amazing, and you both decided this?” Melanie asks in disbelief.

“It’s the way Brian and I decided on the very specific rules of our tricking life. It doesn’t filter over into our relationship.”

“What about Ethan?” Mel asks. “I know he’s still a sore subject for both of you, and I’ll understand if you don’t want to answer, but I’ve always wondered. I think Emmett and Leda have, too.”

Justin saves me from answering the question. Even though he and I have talked about it before, I’m still not comfortable reliving the effects of his answers. “My affair with Ethan was due to a very specific set of circumstances, which ironically had nothing to do with mine and Brian’s tricking habits. Brian and I were in a very weird place emotionally where we couldn’t talk to each other. We were always able to before, pre-bashing, but afterwards, the air around us just filled up with all the things we were afraid to say to each other. A lot of it had to do with the fact that we never talked about what happened, thinking that it was irresponsible for the other person’s wellbeing. Not saying that it was right, but that was how it felt at the time. We were both having nightmares, and trying to avoid the fact that I no longer thought the same way, or processed Brian’s actions the same way when words were very rarely needed before. It didn’t help that my own insecurities were being voiced aloud and reinforced by Michael at every opportunity.”

“Why the hell did you listen to him?” Mel interrupted, a little bit pissed at Justin for doing so.

“Believe it or not, for the same reason you chose to believe the bad about yourself when it came to Lindsay, Mel. My perception of Michael and his motives were completely screwed up in such a way where I allowed him to take my kindness for a weakness. I thought that since the bashing happened, we had gotten over the hurdle of our earlier contention and that we were finally becoming friends. Although we were drunk and high at the time, we came up with the concept for Rage, which gave me a way to restore my faith in my ability to draw. It never dawned on me until much later that Michael still harbored the same ill-will towards me and was just using me to make his own dreams a reality. In fact, I don’t think I really came to that conclusion until I saw the story of the first issue played out on stage the night of the release party, and by then it was too late for me to do anything except accept the fact that I gave Michael the tools he needed to separate me and Brian.”

“But where did Ethan really come in? I know that Lindsay was pushing the issue with you getting out and meeting people your own age.”

“That was part of it, but it was mainly that he didn’t have any knowledge or preconceived notions of who I was pre-bashing. It’s what made being with him easy. I didn’t have to feel anything, or hide my feelings of inadequacy the way I tried to do with all of you, especially Brian. I couldn’t and didn’t love him, but I appreciated what he gave me. Which was a break from my reality of hide and go seek at the time.”

“I understand now. Thanks for explaining it to me. And Justin, don’t fuck it up again with Brian, okay?”

He smiles next to me, and places his hand on my knee. “I won’t, Mel. I promise. Brian and I have been through too much and have come too far to let people, places, things, including warped feelings and disillusionment separate us. Besides, contrary to popular belief, Brian and I have actually learned to say everything, but most especially the things that may hurt. We decided that even though we may have to give each other time afterwards, we’ll always come back and hash it out between us.”

“Has that happened yet?”

“Sure it has. Just because we’re in the honeymoon phase, it in no way means that Brian and I have changed all that much. We’ve been on this particular journey since the whole mess with Stockwell; you’re just seeing the effects of it now.”

We pull into the parking lot, and alight from the car to wait for the other two cars to find parking. Thankfully it wasn’t as hard as it usually would be since I called Theodore and told him that we would be coming with guests. He cleared out a few spots, making a few of the bodyguards place the orange cones a little ways down the row near the exit doors of the Backroom. By the time they reach me and Justin, my twink already has his hand down the front of my pants, and is kissing me to within an inch of my life. I know it’s his way of erasing the previous conversation from the forefront of my psyche, but I’ll be damned if it doesn’t feel good.

“Jeez, you two can’t even wait until you get inside before you start giving a public show,” Connor laughs.

“Why wait at all? It’s what Brian and I are most known for.”

“What? Racking up the fines for public sex?” Ru asks, snickering.

“No, getting the boys of Babylon all hot and bothered… and some girls, too. Usually I would have Justin splayed out on the roof of the car by now. Tonight, we’re being pretty tame.” I shrug.

“Well don’t change on my account,” Ru encourages, to the laughter of everyone else.

“Trust me, Darling, the floor show will, as always, be worth the wait,” Emmett says. “Now come on, Sweeties. It’s time to shake what your mamas gave you!”

We bypass the line, and I’m taken back to the first time we opened the doors of Babylon after Justin returned from Los Angeles. Even after the bombing, it seems that this place has always been thought of as home to a lot of people, not just me. I remember when I told Justin that I was going to reopen the club. I’d called him to see what he’d thought of the idea, not wanting to do it simply because Michael wanted me to. Justin had been in New York for only a week, but had somehow managed to sanction the thought even from there. I remember my shock and initial worry when he told me to look for his blue sketchpad that he’d left behind. It was a whole book dedicated to a Babylon remodel with each page claiming more of the street than the club did before. Later that evening, I was interrupted by the buzzer, and thinking that it was Michael, I wasn’t going to answer it at first. But the annoying sound continued until I finally relented, to admit none other than Jennifer into my loft. Her arms were full of real estate listings and zoning plans, along with her briefcase hanging off her shoulder.

“What the hell… did you run here or something?” I asked as the wild woman breezed into the loft and headed over to the dining room table.

“Justin called,” she said by way of greeting. “He said that you were reopening the club, and we both know how my son is when he takes an idea into his head.” She reached into her briefcase, and handed me a packet of information before sitting down at the table.

“What’s all this?”

“The first page is all the written plans for the blueprints that Justin had drawn in his sketchpad, which he said you have. The second sheaf of papers are the listings for the businesses which decided not to reopen due to the bombing. So those buildings are vacant, and each of the owners are requesting a short sale, as they want to relocate as quickly as possible and don’t want to be responsible for an additional mortgage until the buildings are sold through the normal time frames. The third sheaf of papers contains a bank draft from Justin’s inheritance which is no longer being held until he’s age twenty-three. He said to use whatever you need of that money to build the club and you all can recoup it on the backend. That way, you wouldn’t need to take out a loan since you’re finally finished off paying for Kinnetik and he’s done with JTDesigns.”

And that is why Babylon is now an entire city-block, and divided into sections, including a coffee bar which is open all hours. Since the reopening, Justin and I have been making money hand over fist, even with paying everyone and the other expenses of owning the club and the land it sits on. Within the first year, we managed to replace every red cent of Justin’s 3.5 million dollar inheritance of which we only used half. And which now sits in the bank to accrue interests. We just pay the requisite taxes on the money and the land each year, but we’re not hurting in any way. It’s but another reason that Lindsay is trying all she can to control us in any way possible. Kinnetik JTD, Inc. is thriving, and if there’s one thing that Michael Novotny and Lindsay Peterson cannot stand, it’s the idea that we’re all doing just fine without them.

Justin and I waste no time getting onto the dancefloor. We left the others at the bar, taking in the sights, and ordering their drinks, but Justin and I have another agenda in mind altogether. After the conversation about the fiddler in the car, this is our way to restore our equilibrium, to make a statement that nothing and no one will ever be able to separate us ever again. As he grinds up against me, and my hands travel the body that I know and love so well, he kisses me and I’m lost in him and the music surrounding us. No words are spoken; none are needed. All that matters is right here in my arms.

DASH AVENUE APARTMENTS

MICHAEL:

I’m just about to settle down to watch the X-Men marathon that’s coming on HBO tonight when Lindsay comes tearing into the apartment, slamming the door shut behind her. “Hey, watch it before you damage the fucking lock. I’ll have to pay for that, you know?”

“Sorry, I’m just so fucking pissed off! Do you know that fucking little ingrate just announced to the whole fucking world that he and Brian are MARRIED?! And then he had the temerity to repeat that drivel about Brian being his inspiration. Well, I put a stop to that shit!”

“Well, then what’s the problem?” I ask as I stop to take a sip of my beer. As soon as she calms down, she and I are going to talk about her tantrums. The bitch needs a Xanax!

“The problem is that they set me up!”

“I’m not following.”

She flounces down on the couch, and although I’m relieved she’s finally stopped pacing, it doesn’t mean that I wanted to share my seating space with her. Why oh WHY did she have to come back here before I had a chance to stretch out and get into my movie?! “Justin and that bitch, Miranda, set me up to take their challenge publicly. If I had denied that I belonged within the closed press conference, I would have automatically been disqualified from the competition. So I lied and said that I was an artist of some note, which assured me a place.”

“O-kay,” I say slowly, not understanding what her real damage is. “So you’re officially in the competition. What’s the problem?”

“That I’m NOT an artist of some note. Furthermore, unlike the amateurs, I will be competing as a solo artist now. I have to amass my own assistants and models. Where the fuck am I supposed to find these people?”

“I don’t know. The yellow pages?”

“Michael…” Oh hell to the no, I know that wheedling tone. She looks at me with desperation in her eyes.

“What, Lindsay? And why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re my only hope, Michael. I have to find a way to place at least fourth in the competition, so that I don’t lose all of my standing in the art world. Not only that, but now that I have to have assistants and models, I have to find some way to pay them…”

“Yeah well good luck with that,” I say as I move to the kitchen to grab another beer.

“But Michael, you could help me.”

I laugh. “What the hell do I know about drawing? Hell, if I knew anything about it, Justin wouldn’t have had to pay me to get out of Rage since it would have been my creation entirely. I still wonder what he’s going to do with it now that he owns all of it.”

“Michael, concentrate!” Lindsay yells at me before changing back to that tone of hers I’ve always hated. “Come on, Michael. You could act as my assistant and one of the models. And then when we win the competition, I could pay you back for whatever you pay the models who will work for us.”

Is this bitch for real?! “No.”

“You know, I’m getting pretty tired of hearing that word today.”

“Get used to it.”

“But Michael, don’t you see? This could be perfect! Besides, I’m sure that Brian will be there, so while I’m busy creating, you’ll be able to talk to him.”

“Why can’t you do it?”

She huffs before answering. “Part of the stipulations for me not being kicked out of the competition is that I can’t sabotage Justin and that I can’t interfere with Brian nor Justin’s business regarding Kinnetik JTD or their personal lives. I can’t circumvent it because of all the news media in attendance, who both heard and recorded the ultimatum. So you see, Michael. You would be much more than my assistant, and sometimes benefactor; you would be our only hope to get to Brian and make him see reason.”

I’m going back and forth in my mind, trying to figure out if Lindsay has a hidden agenda in all of this. The bottom line is that right now, she’s the only one still speaking to me. Even if deep down we hate each other, we have a common goal- which is to send Boy Wonder’s ass packing as soon as possible. Like it or not, our best chance to do that is to be up close and personal with him in order to throw him off his game. Lindsay may not have the leeway to do much to him, but I won’t be under the same strenuous rules and regulations.

My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of knocking on the door. “You expecting anyone?” I ask her.

“No, just waiting for your answer.”

I stall for time a little more while I answer the impatient knocking happening again. “Alright, I’m coming! Keep your pants on!” I yell as I wrench open the door. “Uh, may I help you?”

“Sure you can,” the tall stranger says. “You can sign here, and is there a Miss Peterson here as well?”

“Yes,” Lindsay says in a flirtatious voice. “I’m Lindsay, how may I help you?”

“You can sign in the space right below Mr. Novotny’s signature.” The guy just barely stops himself from rolling his eyes, while I have no such filter. I push the clipboard just this side of forcefully into her flat chest. God, I still can’t get the image of her yucky tits out of my mind! YUCK! Anyway, she looks down the list to the empty space and hastily scrawls her name.

“All done. Now, do you know who these packets are from?” Lindsay coos. Why the fuck does she have to do that? She sounds like a fucking pigeon!

“Not sure, but if it helps, the packets are from Mrs. Horvath.”

“Ma? Why the hell would she use a messenger? She could have come here to deliver them herself,” I gripe.

“I can’t answer any of your questions. My only job was to see that you got them and signed. So now that it’s finished, I’ll be on my way. Bye.”

“But I was hoping to ask you to stay awhile,” Lindsay whines. She must be hurting for dick to hit on this guy.

“Sorry, not sorry, but I can’t. I have more deliveries to make. Besides, I’m not into forward women.”

“I’m not forward. I just know what I want and like what I see.”

“Too bad for you. But hey, I know a good escort service that might be willing to help you out. I hear they don’t discriminate based on age. You could easily pass for fifty.”

Lindsay gasps, and I nearly choked on my own spit laughing at the appalled look on her face. The guy took the moment of shocked silence on her part to get out of the apartment unmolested. As I close the door behind him, I hear her muttering, “How dare he? The fucker must need his eyes checked. I don’t look a day over twenty-nine.”

Yep, the bitch is definitely delusional. At least he was being kind in saying fifty, since Lindsay generally looks as old as Methuselah to me. Ummm, make that Medusa since her stringy hair is still sticking out every which way from her earlier tantrum. I open my packet to find several documents, most of which I don’t understand. “Lindsay, what is all this shit?”

“What are you talking about?” she asks, still looking at the closed door instead of the packet in her hands.

“Well, you’ve fucked a lawyer. What does it mean when they say ‘supervised visitation’?”

“What?” she asks, and snatches the papers out of my hand. “It also says here that you are banned from Kinnetik, Babylon, Woody’s, the Diner, Carnegie Mellon University, the Loft Apartments on Tremont Street, and the building formerly known as Red Cape Comics. There’s also a petition that has gone around your old neighborhood of Empress Lane, stating that you are not allowed within fifty feet of it or they will call the police. Jesus, how many people did you piss off?”

“Give me that!” I yell at her, and look it over myself. When the fuck did Brian and Justin buy Woody’s and the Diner? “On the plus side, it says I’m banned, but it didn’t come over as a restraining order. This is more like a warning of some sort?”

“That’s the way I’m taking it,” she says as she opens her own packet. “OH HELL THE FUCK NO!”

“What is it, Lindsay?”

“They did the same shit to me, too. Only there are also stipulations in here that I’m not allowed to speak about or talk to Justin, Miranda, or Brian. I’m only allowed to speak to Melanie in reference to the children, and to arrange the supervised visits with Debbie as chaperone. Well fuck that!”

“What are you going to do?”

“Act like I didn’t get it, of course. I’ll be damned if they tell me what I can or can’t do, or who I can or can’t speak to. Justin thinks he’s got me well in hand, well I’ll show him!”

“But Lindsay, won’t disobeying these instructions cause you to be kicked out of the competition?” I really don’t care about Justin at all, but if Lindsay and I are going to make her plan work, wouldn’t it be better to not get kicked out?

“That’s why you’re going to help me, Michael. Your set of papers didn’t say anything about Justin, Miranda, and Brian, with the exception of being banned from the local hangouts. So you’re going to act as my mouthpiece, at least in reference to the competition. Your mere presence will goad Justin. All you have to do is make it count in ways that will make Justin seem like the little fucktard he is. Right now, he has everyone eating out of the palm of his hand. Well the darling of the art world has very little patience when it comes to you.”

I think about what she’s saying, and for once, she actually makes sense. It’s always been easy for me to push Justin’s buttons, even if he chose to only respond when it got to be too much. He’ll only be able to ignore me for so long. And in the meantime, I could use the time to pitch a new comic idea to Connor and Brett, since they are bound to be there as well. “Okay, I’ll do it, Lindsay. But it will have to be done during my off hours.”

“Off hours?”

“Yeah, I still have to find a job. This money isn’t going to last forever.”

“But Michael, if all goes well, and if you give this your full attention, Brian financially supporting you once again will be well assured. I’ll make sure of it.”

I look at her intently, trying to gauge what her real aim is. She’s still looking over the papers in her hands, but I don’t see a calculating smirk as I normally would if she was trying to fuck me over. Granted, Lindsay and I have never been real friends, but when shit gets in the way of our individual goals, she always comes up with the best plans. So like it or not, I need her; but she needs me, too. Based on those papers, without me she doesn’t have a chance in hell of getting to Justin in a way that will make him fail publicly and get his ass back to New York as we want him to. “Okay, Lindsay. We’ll do this your way for now.”

“Oh Michael, I’m so glad you see things my way.”

I nod, but somehow, I feel like I’ve just sold my soul to the devil.

DEB

I close the door after Toby reports back to me and Carl about delivering the papers to my idiot son and his sister in stupidity. I keep wondering where I went wrong with him. As if hearing my thoughts, Carl comes up behind me and places his hands on my shoulders. “It’s not that you went wrong, Red; you just gave him too much. The fact that Michael continues to be a moocher is all his own doing.”

“I keep wondering if I didn’t slap him enough,” I answer, barely keeping the tenseness out of my voice. Carl just laughs.

“I don’t think that would have helped any more than it has. He only learned to duck faster. No, you did the best you could do, but you should have made him stand by his own bad decisions instead of asking everyone else to cloak and cover for him.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“I know that, Red, but it happened. So now Michael, in the company of Lindsay, is about to experience the growing pains he should have received during his teens and early twenties. It’s not going to be easy to watch, but it’s what you’re going to have to do if you want him to finally learn once and for all. The guys and Mel are finished cleaning their messes up for them. This really should have happened a long time ago, if you ask me.”

“But why now? It’s what I keep asking myself. I don’t exactly know what changed.”

“In a word, Justin.” I go to protest, but he stops me. “No, Red, just listen. As you already know, Lindsay went to Brian behind Justin’s back to get him on that plane to New York. Now that wouldn’t have been so bad, except that Justin had already told her that he wanted to be with Brian and she disregarded that for her own purposes. So once Justin leaves, enter Michael, to not only be the royal pain in the ass that he’s always been where Brian is concerned, but also Lindsay’s eyes and ears while she’s living up in Canada. You think they didn’t have phone conferences about Brian every week?”

“I hadn’t really thought about it, since they don’t really get along.”

“They don’t get along, except when they share a common goal. In this case, it was keeping Brian from living his life with Justin. The only problem with their plans was that Brian and Justin weren’t cooperating. To them, a cancelled wedding meant a failed relationship, but with Brian and Justin that wasn’t the case. In fact, the fact that they entered a legal domestic partnership before Justin got on the plane to New York showed just how determined they were to be together. I would imagine that now that Michael and Lindsay know about it, their bullshit is about to enter hyperdrive. It will be okay that Brian and Justin have signed legal papers joining their lives as long as they don’t live together. Well, that will probably be the case for Lindsay, because it will mean that Justin is still going on about the career she covets. But Michael’s story will be different. He’ll try his tricks to get between Brian and Justin just as he had in the past, with the ultimate goal being that the partnership be dissolved permanently.”

“But hell, Carl, they’re more married than we are!”

“True. But Michael doesn’t see it that way. To him, if Ben can divorce him from their Canadian marriage, then it shouldn’t be that difficult to untie Brian and Justin. He doesn’t understand that although Brian and Justin are in a relationship, they are also a corporation now. And no way in hell are Taylor-Kinney Corp just going to take their balls and go home. Those boys have worked too hard and seen too much to let anyone ever come between them again. You’re just going to have to wait and let the chips of Michael’s plans fall where they may.”

I nod, understanding what Carl is really telling me. Michael is about to receive the hardest lesson in growing up- the fact that you don’t always get what you want, no matter how hard you work for it. Some things just aren’t meant to be, and although you end up disappointed and angry, it still isn’t going to change the facts. Lindsay is already learning it, even if she doesn’t want to acknowledge the lesson.

“I wonder how long it’s going to take for them to remember that their kids are what’s really important here, and not their assholery,” I tell Carl.

“We may be waiting forever to have that happen. If nothing else, Lindsay and Michael are both predictable, and selfish. They’ll remember the kids when everything else around them falls apart, and they are left with no one else to turn to. Gus and Jenny are the only reason any of the guys and Mel still bother with either of them. They will figure that out sooner or later.” Is it too much to hope that it’s later… much, MUCH later? “By the way, did I tell you that Brian and Justin made the offer to move us out to their neighborhood?”

“What do you mean, Carl? We already live within  five minute car ride of the loft.” I know there was a house once, but I don’t remember Brian mentioning keeping it.

“That we do, and they still have the loft. But well, as you know I’m retiring officially next month, and well… Brian and Justin offered to give me a mortgage on one of their properties, not far from where they live in Belle Aire Estates. I thought it might be a nice change to get out of the City. We could travel and you could finally stop working at the Diner, even though you only do it part time now.”

I think about it. Truthfully, I’ve lived in this house for twenty-eight years, and have never had a change in life. Even though I love the place, and the neighborhood because it was close to everything I held dear at the time, I’ve never seen it as my forever home. At the time I bought it, I never thought that I would have a husband; my time was devoted to my son’s well-being and upbringing. It’s where I nursed Vic back to health, and where I lost him again, not only to Rodney, but ultimately, to death. Maybe it’s time for me to move on from the constant reminders of my struggles throughout the years, and finally embrace all life has to offer me… with a husband. “How about we talk about it again after Sunshine’s competition is over.”

“Why wait?” Carl asks, truly puzzled.

“Because I might want to take a page out of Brian and Justin’s book by the time it’s all over. Other than the loft, we have no idea where the two of them live. I might want that same option based on how things pan out.”

“I’ll set the move in date for the day afterwards, then.”

“I haven’t said yes yet.”

“You will,” Carl tells me, kissing my cheek soundly, and laughing.