Interlude

LaVieEnRose

“Okay,” Louis said. “So in the past year, you’ve had a kidney transplant, you experienced an addiction relapse, your father died, your mother-in-law was in a serious accident, and you were arrested for battery charges.”

“And my boyfriend almost died like, eight or nine times in there.”

“Well.” He put his pen down and gave me a small smile. “I’m glad you’re here.”

I took a deep breath and scratched the arm of the couch. “Me too.”

**

Justin dabbed paint on his canvas. I still don’t understand having a hearing therapist.

I shrugged and hugged one of our throw pillows to my chest. I cared more about finding someone gay. My new hearing aids are good. Plus it’s one-on-one, facing each other, no distractions, in a silent room. Even you could lipread in that situation.

Bet you ten dollars I could not.

I still feel nervous with Deaf people, I said. I’d spend the whole time worrying he was judging my signing or…I don’t know, deciding that I’m not Deaf enough to count.

Yeah, I know what that’s like.

Please. You’re capital D Deaf.

Yeah, for less than ten years.

That’s barely longer than I’ve been signing. I shrugged. I’m comfortable with English. It’s still my first language. As much as anything is, anyway.

It’s my first language too, he said. Sometimes you let go of your firsts.

Tell that to the first guy you slept with.

Brian came in with a cup of coffee. What are we talking about, deflowering Justin? Recommend.

I’ll keep that in mind, I said.

Brian moved behind Justin to see the canvas. “Oh,” he said. Wow.

Justin looked at him, eyebrow up.

Brian set his coffee cup on the table. Is this…wow. He picked his cup back up and took a sip, so pseudo-casual. Are you selling this one?

Yeah.

Brian nodded slowly, looking at the canvas.

I don’t…have to sell it.

What? No, it’s fine. It’s good. He lifted his cup to the easel. Good painting.

Justin laughed a little. Thanks.

I said, I’m going to make dinner tonight, okay?

Brian laughed. Why? Fair enough. We don’t do a lot of cooking around here, and if anyone does it’s usually Justin.

I used to cook all the time before you guys made me lazy, I said.

“He’s atoning,” Justin said to Brian.

I said, Didn’t I just mention I can read lips?

“Sure, but I’m banking on you not knowing what atoning means.”

Well…I have a guess.

Justin sighed. I’m just ready for everything to go back to normal.

Speaking of. I checked my watch. I have to get going.

You want a ride? Brian asked.

I shook my head, standing up. I’ll just take the bus.

Doesn’t that take like an hour? Justin said.

Well…that’s why I’m leaving now.

They looked at each other, then at me, and Brian shrugged. Suit yourself.

Take a break soon, okay? I said to Justin. Bye, Martha.

Brian came behind Justin as I left, his chin on top of Justin’s head, looking at his painting.

**

“So how’s community service going?” Louis asked.

“It’s okay.”

He waited.

Okay, fine. “I don’t actually mind it,” I said. “I’m picking up trash at Rockaway. Now that it’s getting kind of cold there aren’t a ton of people around, so it’s mostly just me and, you know. The other felons. And they’re not very chatty. They’re mostly pretty old. So it’s just, you now. Me and my thoughts. I didn’t realize before this that I don’t really spend much time alone…at all. At work there’s always a million people there. At home we’re always doing something. And we go out a lot, me and Brian.”

“And Brian’s at work too, right?”

“Yeah. I mean, we’re on different floors and everything, but I see him during the day. He checks on me. And sometimes we have lunch together.”

“Sounds like you’re with Brian a lot of the time.”

I shrugged. “He takes care of me.”

“I know you two recently had that big relationship talk, right?”

I nodded. “Things have been better since then. And then I went and did this, so…”

“Are things not good anymore?”

“No, they are. It’s just…I don’t know.” I picked at a hole in my jeans. “He didn’t used to worry that I was overwhelmed. He thought I had everything together. And I kind of liked that. Because he gets very in his feelings sometimes about Justin, so I was like…the steady one. Which was cool. I mean, I’m a lot younger than he is, and here it felt like he was relying on me for something. Now I’m scared I’m just one more person he has to manage.”

“How are him and Justin, since what happened?”

“Really good.”

“And you and Justin?”

“We’re okay. I guess we feel kind of…cautious? I’ve never freaked him out like that before. It’s almost like we’re trying too hard to be normal.”

“What do you think needs to happen?” Louis said. “What would get things actually back to normal?”

“Brian says it’ll just take time. I don’t know. I just feel so guilty all the time. And I know they’re sick of me apologizing. So I just…don’t really say anything, because that’s all I want to say.” I paused. “I don’t think I really get this community service thing.”

“In what way?’

“I mean, yay picking up trash, but what does that have to do with what I did? How is me picking up trash on beaches making it up to the guy I hurt?”

“Do you want to make it up to him?”

“He hasn’t exactly come and apologized to Justin. So no.”

“So you’re apologizing to Justin instead.”

“Well. I’m also picking up trash.”

**

I was in the kitchen a couple weeks later, working on my laptop in the late evening, when Brian came in. He trailed his hand over my shoulders in that way that makes me shiver. What are you doing? he asked me.

“Anger management homework.” I propped up on my elbow and faced him.

And what are we learning?

“Beating people up baaaad.”

He took a bakery box out of the fridge. Someone teach you to fight like that, or you just figured it out?

“Adam. Gave me some tips, at least, after I got jumped one time.”

“You got jumped?”

“Drug dealers like to get paid, turns out.”

Brian cut two slices of coffee cake and brought a plate and a fork to me. How long were you homeless? he asked, sitting down at the table.

“I mostly had a place to sleep. I’d crash on people’s floors, or in warehouses where people were squatting. Shelters sometimes. I didn’t spend that many nights, you know, under the bridge in a cardboard box or whatever. People steal all your shit when you do that.”

He shook his head a little.

“Don’t be sad. If it helps, I was very high all the time.”

That is something. He shrugged. I don’t know. It just all makes more and more sense, I guess.

My inner feral street kid. Yeah. I looked at him. You okay?

Yeah. Just tired recently.

We’ve been busy.

I don’t know. Been a quiet week.

“Can I do anything?”

What, infuse me with caffeine?

“I don’t know. Just anything.” I chewed on the side of my thumb.

Yeah, actually, now that you mention it, it would be cool if you would stop feeling guilty for existing and acting like you’re afraid of us.

“Okay, but in my defense I am very afraid of you right now.”

This is your home, and you’re wanted, Brian said. That doesn’t go away because you fuck up. He looked up as Justin came into the kitchen. Where have you been? We’re eating your cake.

I can see that. I was on the phone with my agent, Justin said, leaning over to steal a bite of my cake. And, uh, Brian? Quick question.

Yes?

Are you in a bidding war for my painting?

What painting?

I mean, any of my paintings, but the one I finished last week. The pink sunrise one.

Brian made his face completely unconvincingly blank. Oh. No.

No, you are not in a bidding war for my painting.

No.

Okay, Justin said. Because she says there’s a bidding war happening for that painting.

That’s cool. Hope it goes high.

Sure, Justin said, and he rolled his eyes at me, and I smiled.

**

“So Brian reminded me that everything that scares me scares Justin even more,” I told Louis. “And he’s right. It’s important to remember that this all hits Justin harder.”

“Isn’t that a bit like telling someone not to complain because there are starving children in Africa?” Louis said.

“I mean…if the starving child from Africa was living in your house listening to complain, they might have a point.”

He nodded a little, conceding.

“Plus…stuff that’s about Justin needs to center Justin. Sick theory 101.”

“Sure, but there’s also the oxygen mask theory. That you need to take care of yourself so that you can take care of him.”

“I’m not…arguing with that,” I say. “I mean…okay. I acknowledge that that’s something I have trouble with. But I agree that it’s valid.” I was getting so good at therapy language. “But I can, you know, sit down and have a beer and a bubble bath or whatever the fuck without making Justin’s illness about me.”

“How does Justin feel about all this?”

“If you so much as suggest that any aspect of Justin might be a burden in any situation, he’ll shatter into eight hundred pieces.”

“Well,” Louis said. “That sensitivity in and of itself sounds like a burden you have to bear, doesn’t it?”

I shrugged. “He knows that. He’s working on it.”

“All right.” Louis said. “We can pivot. We’ve talked a lot about your relationship with Brian and Justin as a unit. What about your relationship with each one separately?”

“Which do you want to start with?”

“Which do you you want to start with?”

“I so knew you were going to say that.” I laughed a little. “Justin.”

“Go on.”

I felt myself smiling without meaning to. “I don’t know what to say about Justin. He…he woke me up. I’d pulled my life together, but I was sleepwalking, you know? And then I met him. And he is…so kind, and so funny, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt as safe in my entire life as I do when I’m with him. He just…he notices everything? You can’t get anything past him, which can be kind of annoying, but at the same time, like…you always know that he’s on the ball and he has stuff taken care of. He’s also the most unbelievably talented person I’ve ever met. I’m seriously stunned all the time that I even know someone with his skill, let alone am with him. You should see the painting he finished recently, he just…God. He’s kind of famous but he should be so much more famous. I seriously think he’s the greatest living painter. I guess I’m biased. But I really think that.”

“What do you think Justin likes about you?”

That took me longer. “I think…he doesn’t have to explain himself to me. I understand what he’s going through because we’re both dealing with health stuff and we both have weird artist brains and we’re close to the same age. We grew up in really similar houses. I think being with me has always been really easy and comfortable for him. And I think he really likes that I’m someone that he can look out for, someone who trusts him. He likes kind of being in charge of me, and I like it too. Also the sex is pretty mindblowing.”

“Do you see yourself with him long term?”

“Well…I don’t always know how long he’s going to be around. But I’m never leaving Justin.”

**

We were all flopped around the living room one night, watching the finale of one of those trashy Netflix dating shows with a bunch of straight people in ridiculous situations. Brian pretends he watches these to indulge us, but he loves them. He was in the armchair on his laptop while Justin and I entertained each other with a running commentary on the show. Justin had a cold and an ear infection so he’d been a little low-energy all day, but he was feeling okay now. Brian was leaving for a week-long business trip the next morning that he wasn’t really looking forward to, so that was kind of hanging over our heads, but it was a nice evening. I’d spent a few hours picking up trash, so I was sore, but in a good way.

“Fuck,” I saw Brian say, out of the corner of my eye. I looked over, and he was typing with a pissed-off look on his face.

What’s wrong? I said.

He’s losing the auction for my painting, Justin said.

No, Brian said.

You know, I will give you the painting, Justin said. You just have to ask.

Brian didn’t say anything, but he dug his credit card out of his pocket and started typing it in.

This is a bit circular, don’t you think? Justin said. This is money I could be spending on pretty things.

You can spend it on pretty things once I win your goddamn painting, Brian grumbled, and Justin laughed and ducked his head.

Brian was gone in the morning before we woke up, which was kind of sad, but he left us notes reminding us how to set the alarm and where some emergency supplies were, as if we’d never been alone in the house before. I still had to go to work, so I kissed Justin goodbye and texted him dirty shit throughout the day, and that night we went out for Italian food and people-watched in Battery Park and had a lot of sex. No complaints.

The whole week was really lovely, actually. We had Jane on Wednesday and took her to the playground and out for crepes. On Thursday we went to the bar and saw our friends and danced under the blue lights. And in-between we called Brian and baked cookies and watched way too much TV and I did my community service and it was just nice.

I got off work early on Friday–Brian must never find out how lax Kinnetik gets when he’s not there–and I was in the kitchen doing dishes at around four when I felt something on my leg. I looked down, and Martha was pawing at my leg, looking up at me intently. “Ah shit. Okay, I’m coming.”

I followed her out in the living room. Justin was pale, staring with his eyes narrowed at some invisible point on the wall. I sat down next to him and touched his arm. You okay?

He turned to me like he wasn’t quite seeing me. “I…um.”

Let’s lie down on the floor, okay? I’ll come with you. I moved the coffee table out of the way and dropped cushions down on the floor and got him settled. It wasn’t a tonic-clonic seizure, turned out, but he did shake pretty badly and he looked really upset through the whole thing. It lasted a while, too. I talked to him gently the whole time while Martha watched him diligently. When it was over he ran a hand through his sweaty hair.

Hi, I said. You with me?

He took a shaky breath. “Yeah.”

What do you need?

“Um…some water, maybe?”

I’ll be right back.

I got him a glass of water and helped him back up onto the couch. He told me he didn’t want to go to bed, and we’d been planning a low-key evening anyway, so I just made some popcorn and cuddled up with him on the couch and put on this murder mystery movie we’d been looking forward to that was finally streaming. Justin was exhausted, breathing heavy, and rubbing his face on my shirt, and it was clear about halfway through the movie that there was no way he was going to make it through. I hit pause.

He covered his face. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m so wiped out from that.

It was a pretty big one. Come on, let’s take a nap. I bet Brian will be home when you wake up.

I coaxed him to bed but he didn’t fall asleep right away. We lay there facing each other, and he leaned over and kissed me gently.

How’s therapy going? he asked me.

I propped up on my elbow. Okay, I think. I’m still not sure if I like it.

He laughed. Neither am I.

I was really surprised by how tired it made me. It’s like I went for a run or something.

Yeah, it’ll do that. Feeling all the feelings. Do you think it’s helping?

I think so…I don’t know. Maybe you need to almost die and see if I freak out less.

Well, shouldn’t be long.

I laughed a little.

I’m sorry, you know? he said. I know, I know, you hate hearing it.

Can I just ask you something?

Of course.

Is it like…okay to tell you when I’m worried? Does it make you feel bad?

He shook his head, thoughtfully. No, you can tell me that. I mean…I expect you to be worried sometimes, you know? I think that’s natural. I just don’t want you to be miserable.

I’m not.

He gave me a sleepy smile, burrowing deeper into his pillow. He said, Brian said this thing one time. That worrying about me means I’m still here to be worried about. He said it’s a feature, not a bug.

That, I said, one of my favorite ASL idioms. That. Exactly.

Yeah?

Yes.

Justin smiled. Good. I really liked that.

**

“What about your relationship with Brian?” Louis said.

I laughed a little. “We have what, fifteen minutes left? I can’t fit all of Brian into there.”

“Eh, give it a shot.”

“Mm.” I tried to figure out where to start. “I don’t think he liked me at first. I didn’t really like him! But he just…Brian cares more about other people than anyone I’ve ever met. And it’s funny because people who don’t know Brian really don’t know him. Like, the initial impression he gives off is…very far from reality. But it’s not like he’s trying to hide it, it’s just…I don’t think he realizes how good he is. He does this truly incredible, selfless things for people, and he doesn’t even recognize that these are things that not everyone would do. He doesn’t see it. And there’s just this like…purity in the way that he cares about people, because he only does things that he wants to do. And what he wants to do is make your life a little bit easier. That’s honestly how he wants to be spending his time. And I think that’s so rare. He’s just honest, in a way people aren’t honest.”

“And what do you think he likes about you?”

“It’s…it’s not easy between us like it is with me and Justin. Brian and I aren’t always on the same page. But we just have these moments where we just…and I think he feels that too. I think we both hold out for those moments when we absolutely understand every single thing about each other, just for a minute. And he trusts me with Justin. Or…he did. God, I hope he still does.”

“And do you think you’ll be with Brian long term as well?”

“Well, he and I aren’t…” I said, and then I stopped and said what I really meant instead. “Yes. There’s no world in which I’m not with Brian.”

**

Brian had texted me from the airport to tell me he had to pick something up and he’d be home a little later than expected. Justin was still asleep when he arrived, and I got up and hugged him. Brian put his bags down and put his arms around me, his hand on the back of my head. After a minute he tilted my face up to look at him. Everything okay?

I nodded. Just missed you.

He tweaked my chin. I missed you too. Look. He picked up a paper-wrapped package and tore the corner open, and I started laughing. Justin’s painting.

You won!

You have no idea how fucking expensive this was.

You’re insane.

Yeah. He took my hand and tugged me. Help me figure out where to hang it.

“Okay.” I wrapped my arms around his waist and pushed my face into his shirt, breathing him in. “In a minute.”