The kitchen clock ticked with each minute that passed. The refrigerator hummed and a clink of ice as it dropped from the ice maker were back ground noises that Brian didn't pay attention to as he watched his partner's shoulders and back heave with the spasms of his tears. He hated seeing anyone cry but when it was someone he loved, it was that much harder.
He placed the glass of water in front of Justin and had told him it was there, but he did not say anything else. Telling someone that they shouldn't cry was counterproductive and while he did not cry very often, he understood the catharsis it brought. He remembered crying when he first was given the diagnosis of cancer so many years ago. He'd gone back to his loft, closed the door and bolted it. He'd put his phone on silent mode and then slid down the wall, sitting in the living room as he allowed the tears to fall down his cheeks. He'd cried until there were no more tears and he was thirsty, dehydrating himself in the process. He had gone to the liquor cabinet and proceeded to drink almost a full bottle of Beam before passing out. When he woke the next morning, he had a terrible headache and he'd been angry at the world.
Sitting down at the table, he thought about the exchange he and Justin had a few moments ago. Justin wanted a child. Where in the hell had that come from? Justin was painting again and he'd had several successful shows in New York. After his accident he'd returned to Pittsburgh and we've been living at Britin for about 18 months. I thought we were happy, but now Justin tells me he wants a child. What the fuck?
A child? What would a child mean to us? What would it mean to Justin? Is this something he's been thinking about for a while or something he and Daphne cooked up on one of their Bobbsy twin outings? Do I want a child? Does it matter what I want or will I let Justin have this since it's important to him? How will a child affect his painting? Is he planning on continuing to paint? Does he want to raise it or just father it? Who will be the mother? Shit! Too many questions and we've got too many fucking things on our plate, but life happens when you're planning other things.
Brian got himself a glass of guava juice, getting up to pour it more of an excuse to do something than from a need to drink. He made a big production of getting the juice out, pouring it and then wiping the container down before setting it on the counter. Truth be told, he was always after Justin to wipe down the container before he put in back since it had a tendency to drip from the spout. He drank half of the glass and refilled it, repeating the procedure and then returning it to the fridge. He swirled his glass in small circles and then played with the condensation on the glass, making small designs in the water droplets. He waited for Justin to calm down and then grabbed a box of tissues, placing them on the table.
Justin grabbed a few tissues, blew his nose and wiped his eyes. He walked to the sink and splashed cold water on his face, dried it off, hung up the towel and returned to the table where he took a few sips of the water.
"Brian...." Justin looked up for a few moments and then felt so overwhelmed with the situation he just looked back down at the table.
"Talk to me, Justin. I figured out this is about a child, but I can't see your thoughts. I'm not that good at reading the Justin Taylor manual." Brian hoped his joking would get a smile from Justin but he would be happy with just a just a small upturn of his mouth.
The hum from the furnace was the only noise in the house and since it was high efficiency and top of the line, it was barely noticeable. Brian heard it as he was listening for any sound in the kitchen. The lack of verbage from his partner, something he didn't usually contend with.
"I love Gus," Justin said softly, still looking at the table instead of Brian. "He's a great kid." Justin played with his water glass, moving it back and forth on the table and moving it through the water trail on the table as the glass left condensation on the surface.
"Yes, he is."
"I know you never wanted children and were practically tricked into having him."
Brian nodded his head, but chose to let Justin continue talking rather than interrupt him.
"But I'm not you. I've always wanted to be a father, wanted a child to share my life and love with. I know you've never regretted having Gus. I remember the night he was born, you holding him and the look in your eyes, the love pouring out surprised you. I know it did. You hated when Lindsay took him to Canada, but you were so happy when they returned a few months later. You're a great dad and Gus adores you." Justin took a several sips from his water glass and finally looked at Brian. "I always thought I would..."
Justin walked to the sink and looked out the window that overlooked their property. He watched a squirrel scamper, stopping every time he got to a tree and gather the acorns on the ground. On the far edge of the property, he saw several deer eating the few berries still on the bushes. Normally this scene soothed him, the natural beauty of the world provided him with inspiration, but today it did not. He saw life moving forward without him.
Brian came up from behind him and wrapped his arms around his neck, gently kissing his head and neck.
Brian whispered, "A father? How long have you been thinking about this?" Brian found it much easier to have the conversation when he was not looking at Justin's face. He could hug him, offering him support, and Justin could talk freely without looking into Brian's eyes.
"Off and on for years, but last week Daphne and I went to lunch and she mentioned I'd make a great father."
"I see. What do you think?" Brian continued to hold Justin, offering him all the support he could.
"It doesn't matter. I would never want a child of mine to find out. That door is closed." The sadness of Justin's words broke Brian's heart. He hugged him tightly. "Besides, you don't want to be a full time father and...."
Brian didn't even think before he responded; he just went with the words as they came out of his mouth.
"We have a relationship. It's a partnership, not a dictatorship. If one of use wants something, we talk about it. It's a mutual decision."
"That doesn't change anything, Brian. Even if you were willing to have a child, I wouldn't put that kind of burden on him or her. The teasing and scorn that the child would endure because his father was a strip dancer would be horrible. I was taunted and teased because I was gay. I had no control over that. But this, this I can control. If I don't have a child, then he/she wouldn't ever have to endure the teasing."
"I can guarantee you there are far worse things that parents have done to their children than being a stripper. Good ole Joanie and Jack Kinney couldn't care less if they had children. Joanie was drunk by noon every day and Jack beat the crap out of us. You think being a former strip dancer is worse than them. I highly doubt that!" The venom in his voice was obvious. Brian's fury at his parent's neglect was rarely seen by anyone but today he showed his anger. He unknowingly clenched his fists into tight balls as he felt the pain and misery of his childhood rush through his body. "I wouldn't have cared if they peddled their ass on the street if they had shown a little interest in my life or my well- being. You want a child. It's more than they ever wanted and unfortunately they demonstrated that each and every day of my first 18 years."
Justin knew about Brian's childhood; they had spoken of it a few times, but he'd never heard the anger and venom in Brian's voice as he did now. He turned around and kissed him gently on the lips.
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry is bullshit. And what the fuck are you sorry for? Are you sorry for my rotten childhood? Don't be. If sweet ole Jack and Joanie had been model parents, who knows where I'd have ended up in life. I surely wouldn't have left home and never turned back. I'd probably be working in a damn factory like my old man." Brian kissed Justin on the lips and walked him back to the kitchen table, motioning to the chair.
"I get that you're sorry for this whole dancing thing with the stalker. We've discussed this. You didn't do anything wrong. If you're sorry because you want a child, Justin you have a right to want things too." Brian reached out and took a sip from his glass of guava juice. He licked his lips when some of the juice stayed on his upper lip.
"A child isn't like a new computer or a new spring suit in the Armani collection. It isn't something you can bring back to the store if you don't like it, Brian."
"I know. Believe me, even my new collection of spring suits doesn't cost as much as I give the munchers for Gus in a year," he said tongue in cheek, knowing he did not even blink at the cost of any purchase that had to do with Gus. "I know this isn't about money."
"I've sprung this on you. You don't have to say yes just to make me happy. I know you really don't want a child." Justin got up from the table and threw the rest of the water in the sink. Placing the glass in the dishwasher, he walked toward the main part of the house, heading toward his studio.
Brian watched him leave the kitchen but didn't call him on it. He was thankful that Justin left, giving him some time to really think about the situation. He hadn't really thought of Justin wanting a child of his own and he was very happy with their lives. He needed time to think about the situation. Truth be told, he would give anything to make Justin happy, but he wasn't certain that a child was included in that everything. It didn't matter what he wanted or didn't want, and he knew enough of Justin's mood lately to not to respond to Justin's final statement. Justin didn't know if Brian would want a child or not. It's no wonder Justin was always getting overly emotional at things when they didn't work out, he was assuming what everyone's reaction would be.
Justin went to his studio, standing his current pieces against the wall to view them all at once. Looking at them with a neutral eye, he stared at the pictures. He couldn't feel any attachment to any of them, it was like looking at someone else's work. He was devoid of feeling, well not devoid, but numb was a better description. His mind was a swirling mess of thoughts, so much that he couldn't concentrate on any one line of thinking. He started thinking of Tim Callen and the article which led him to the thoughts of his friends and what they must think now that they knew he danced and stripped for a living. This led him to thoughts of his best friend, Daphne and their conversation about a child which in turn led him to his conversation with Brian a few short minutes ago and how he sprung that crazy notion on his partner.
Thoughts of Brian reminded him that Tim Callen just wrote a short piece about his stripping and now Brian's clients would possibly find a new agency since his partner was such a slut. Those thoughts led to Kinnetik's downfall and questions about how he would support himself if both Brian and he weren't working. And if neither had any money, then Justin might just have to start stripping again and what would that do to their lives. His mind just went in circles and the paintings that were in front of him were from a different person, a different time and he could no more finish them at this time, than Gus could. Thoughts of Gus made him very sad. He loved Gus and the thought of him finding out about his stripping was horrible. He feared that Lindsay and Melanie would forbid him to see Gus and that would just kill him. Then there were more thoughts about a child, his child, well his and Brian's child, but who was he fooling, Brian didn't want a child and he was foolish to even say anything to him.
His studio was usually a place of solace, but today he was inconsolable, too many things to think about and the idea of picking up a paintbrush or a sketchpad held no interest to him. He closed the door and walked toward the media room instead. He hoped Brian wasn't around but he knew he could not avoid him forever. He would be happy with a few hours. Laying his soul bare was not his favorite pass time and despite what Brian teased him about, he didn't relish long discussions with his partner. He loved spending time with Brian and talking to him, but he knew and respected Brian's dislike for lengthy discussions. They would often have a discussion that lasted days until the topic was resolved. That's how he knew Brian and he were not finished with the discussion about any of the things he was thinking about.
The media room was empty and he found his old tape of Yellow Submarine. He popped it into the VCR and sat on the couch to watch the great animations, allowing the colors to soothe his soul. He listened to the music and found himself humming the tunes of the familiar songs and quoting the dialogue as well.
Brian watched as Justin walked out of the kitchen. He didn't want to go after him, preferring to think about the discussion they were having and to also let him be alone for awhile. He grabbed a casserole from the freezer and put it on the counter to defrost, hoping that Justin would be interested in eating later on. He retreated to his office and turned on the computer to read any late emails he received from work. He purposely didn't think about any of the issues they were dealing with at the moment, but chose to concentrate on his business.
After spending the next few hours working, he shut off his computer and leaned back in his chair, allowing his brain to process their earlier conversation. i Justin wanted a child. How did I not see this one coming? What do I think about having a child? Do I want a child? Do I want to tell Justin no? Is it fair if I tell him no? What will a child do to his career? Is it my place to tell him what to do with his career? He has a career and we did not fight this hard for him to give it up. Is he giving up the career? Is the child a substitute for his painting? /i He went in search of Justin, deciding he'd been alone long enough.
He heard the sound of the speakers in the media room and walked softly toward the noise. He saw the closing credits of Yellow Submarine and smiled, knowing that this was Justin's form of pain management. The screen went black and Justin did not move to turn off the player. He sat in the darkness with the hum of the idle speakers in the background.
Brian walked into the media room and sat next to Justin on the couch. Justin nodded his head slightly acknowledging his entrance but didn't say anything.
"Hey," Brian said.
"Hey," Justin responded.
"I looked at the entertainment news a few minutes ago. Tim's article was there."
"Oh," Justin said as if Brian told him it was getting dark.
"There were a few responses to it from readers, but for the most part, very little reaction."
"Ok."
"Want to eat dinner? I have one of Deb's famous casseroles defrosting. Our visit to the diner was hours ago." Brian sat in the dark with Justin, reaching out for his hand and grasping it, letting him know he was there for him. He wanted desperately to wave a magic wand and make all the concerns of his partner disappear, but he knew he could not. He wished for the millionth time that their lives could have less drama and more serenity, but knew they had to get through these latest crises before the calm could invade.
"No. I'm tired. I think I'll go take a shower and go to bed." Justin got up from the couch and walked toward the stairs. He flicked on the light and made his way up them without turning back to look at Brian.
Brian watched his partner walk up the stairs, his back slightly stooped over like that of a much older man. He respected Justin's desire to be alone, but he knew he wouldn't allow it to continue for long. He put the casserole back in the fridge and put on the security system. Pouring himself a shot of Beam from the bottle on the liquor cabinet, he settled into the media room and clicked on Netflix, choosing to watch his own favorite movie, Rebel Without a Cause. He quoted the dialogue throughout the movie, finding escape from the stressors of his life. When it finished, he went up to their bedroom where he joined Justin in a restless sleep.