STAYING or GOING: CHAPTER 5

JUSTIN:

The ringing of the doorbell surprises me. Brian has his key so I know it’s not him, unless he’s forgotten them. But I’ve never met a man more anal in my life about his things. Every morning it’s the same routine in reference to how he makes sure he has the things he needs before walking out the door. Suit of armor, be it Armani, Boss, or Prada, a splash of aftershave, two quick sprays of cologne, gather briefcase, put necessary files in said briefcase, grab coffee, pocket cellphone, grab keys, lock the door and set the alarm then gone. No matter which residence or hotel we stay in, the process is always the same, which is why I know whomever is at my door, is certainly not Brian.

I just arrived here about two hours ago from staying in the hotel last night. Ben did show up. After talking for what seemed like forever, we both headed to bed. Him on the sofa, and me on my lonely bed for the evening. I laid there thinking about the events of the night and found that I couldn’t sleep much. So I left Ben a note saying that he was welcome to use the suite up until our departure and that if he needed anything to call me. I rode around, even as dark became dawn and found myself at the little cabin where Brian and I had decided what I wanted to do with my career after New York. The thing that struck me the most was that we hadn’t made the monumental decision at the loft or here at Britin. It was somewhere where no one could find us; somewhere where our joined memories were not tainted by the ghosts of others. And that got me to thinking that maybe this island paradise we were going to would work the same way the cabin did.  It would provide a safe haven where Brian and I could say what we wanted, without having to worry about it lingering in our shared space afterwards.

The thought lingered in my mind even as I opened the door. “Mom, hello. What are you doing here?”

“And hello to you too Darling. As for what I’m doing here, I figured that you would be here, so why not come over and see you. Am I interrupting anything?” She asks me while looking around.

I’m not exactly sure why that bothers me at the moment. Was she expecting to find a trick or something? Granted, it is mine and Brian’s form of pain management. Or it used to be at any rate, but things have changed drastically since the early days. For one, Brian and I agreed that whereas the loft was open territory, this house was not. This is our home. The loft is too, but this is the area where no one comes but us. It took over four years for the family to even know about this place. Except for my mother and Ted who had been here because of real estate business, no one knew of its existence until we were ready to share it publicly. It was another two years before we allowed anyone to visit. I’m happy to say that the only person who has not seen Britin is Michael, having refused to come because he would be faced with the fact that Brian bought it for me. Of course, he said that he didn’t want to see the evidence of Brian Kinney turning into a Stepford fag. Brian and I shrugged his insult off as mere jealousy. What else could it have possibly been?

“No Mom, you’re not interrupting. I haven’t been too long got here myself.”

“Oh, where have you been?”

Now I know this is leading up to something so instead of answering her right away, I lead her into the kitchen. Making us both cups of coffee, I also pull out the coffee cake that I made myself yesterday and heated a few pieces. It has always been one of my go-to comfort foods. “So… where have I been? Thinking mostly, working mainly and painting a little.”

“Well that’s great honey. But I think you know that that’s not exactly the question I’m asking, don’t you?”

I sigh and close my eyes. Someone talked and I think I know exactly who it was. “When did you see Deb?”

She smirked at me. “This morning… at Brian’s office. I was surprised that you weren’t there.”

“I finished up the immediate stuff yesterday so I figured I’d take a few days off.”

It was her turn to sigh apparently. “Why do you and Brian keep having me channel Daphne today?”

I laughed. “What are you talking about?”

“You and Brian… hell even Deb, seem to think that I’m oblivious to the fact that you and Brian are having some… problems. Now don’t worry Justin, I’m not going to tell you what to do. I’m not Debbie and I know that I don’t have to lead you by the hand through life. But I am going to give you some advice, unsolicited or not. Do your best to fix things between you and Brian. You’ve both seen and been through so much. You have a love between you that defies all reason, but gives the people around you hope that there is someone out there who loves them just as much. Don’t let your pride and a veritable pain in the ass take that away from you. Hell Justin, you’ve survived people trying to kill you and Brian’s illness, Los Angeles, New York, a jealous bitch, and a fractious fiend, who has consistently tried to break the two of you up while calling himself a friend. Only you and Brian have the power to make or break you. Don’t give that up. And remember that if you both ever need me, I’m always around for you.”

As she spoke, I felt the tears come unbidden to my eyes. I wasn’t aware that they had spilled over until she reached over to brush them. I know I probably sound like a Mama’s boy right now, but I can honestly say, that I’ve missed her touch. She always had a way of soothing me, even when I didn’t know that I needed it. Thinking back to after the bashing, I know that it killed her not to be able to take away my hurt, even as she put my own needs to be with Brian ahead of hers. I remember the first day I had been able to go out by myself. It was the day after Brian made me find him through a crowd of people on Liberty Avenue at the busiest time of day. That was one of the most tremendous moments of my life. But what I really loved was that the next day, I went to Mom’s office- walked there from the loft all by myself. I don’t think I had ever seen Mom cry so many happy tears in my life and I remember smiling because I was the one who had put them there.

From that day to this one, there were so many turning points in the relationship between Mom and Brian. She went from blaming him, to hating him, to respecting him, to liking him, and ultimately loving him as much as she loves me. Sometimes, I think she loves him more to be honest. So as she sat there and laid out how she views Brian and I, the mask of indifference that I’d been wearing for more moments than I could count, slipped. “Mom, I’m not sure that Brian and I can fix it. I promised that I would try but… well, you know sometimes it’s better...”

“Don’t you dare say that sometimes it’s better to cut your losses and move on, Justin Cole Taylor!” she yells and I have to say that even I am surprised by her venom. “Your father… lost cause, Brian Kinney is NOT! Don’t you dare paint them with the same brush.”

“Whoa… who says I am?”

“You are and you don’t even realize it. Do you remember when you told Craig and I that all you wanted was to be with Brian Kinney? Has that changed?”

“No, but we have.”

“Of course you have, both physically and emotionally, but has the ultimate goal changed for you? Because I can tell you right now, that it hasn’t changed for Brian. All those times you fought against everyone for him, fought him for his heart, and you mean to tell me that because you’re hurt, angry, and disappointed for whatever fucking reason, that you are now going to throw in the towel? Well fuck that! I would rather Brian be alone than be miserable with you!”

“Mom, what the hell are you saying? I’m your son!”

“Then ACT LIKE IT! My son, Justin Taylor, never gives up. My son, Justin Taylor, has always had a fighting spirit. My son, Justin Taylor, would be telling the proverbial Novotnys of this world, especially that loudmouth little louse Michael, to go fuck themselves with a rusty dildo but he would NOT give up the fight when he hasn’t even thrown the first punch! Where the fuck is MY SON?!”

I was blown away by her outburst. My mom has always been mild-mannered and soft-spoken. But when did she become my own love life’s Norma Rae? But wait… “A rusty dildo? Wow Mom! You really don’t like him very much, do you?”

“I can’t stand the little punkass, even if I love Deb like a sister most of the time. He’s a wimp, who hides behind his mother’s apron. But he’s also very smart to do so. He maneuvers and manipulates in such a way where none of you- not ONE of you- goes against him for fear or out of respect for Deb. I’m not sure which one it is. You used to, so my question is, why did you stop?”

“I’m tired of having to, Mom. When there are eight of us and I’m the only one pushing back for years, it gets tiring. When not even my husband backs his supposed best friend off of me, but instead chooses to pretend that he doesn’t see what Michael is doing, well then who do I become, besides the convenient bedwarmer he calls me?”

“Oh honey,” she says and I think she’s finally beginning to understand all that I haven’t said to her over the years. “You know that you are so much more to Brian than a title.”

“I used to think so; I would like to believe that I am but sometimes…”

“I know since I was married to Craig. Believe it or not, he and Michael are a lot alike. They hide their meanness behind this facade of public joking, when in reality they mean every single belittlement they throw your way. As to Brian not defending you, well you have to ask him why he doesn’t. I suspect the answer would surprise you.”

“You and he have talked about this?”

“Not necessarily at length, but let’s say that I’m extremely observant. I’ve glimpsed into the Brian Kinney Operating Manual myself a time or two. But when that’s happened is for me to know and for you to find out, if you ask the right questions that is.”

Okay, Mom being cryptic is not a good thing. She really has taken lessons from Daph. “So you aren’t going to tell me. I guess this trip is the only way of finding out what I need to know.”

“Oh, you know already Justin. Somehow, you’ve just forgotten what to look for and how to listen. Remember what happened the last time that you did?”

I close my eyes and sigh. “Ethan.”

“That’s right. Ethan. And although I know that you and Brian aren’t exclusive, it wouldn’t take but one slip up for another fiddler to fuck the two of you up. Don’t let Michael Novotny-Bruckner become your fiddler, okay?”

I hug her before she leaves after she thanks me for the coffee cake and warns me to lay off it. I can’t help but snicker, knowing that in her mind, there should be no need for me to continually indulge in my preferred comfort food. It’s strange, but talking to my mom helped me put a lot of my jumbled thoughts in order. By no means are Brian and I fixed, but with her reminding me of who I’ve always been, I think there is a chance. I can’t imagine where I’ve lost myself in all of this.

It’s pretty telling that I’ll risk everything in business, working in only small chances that I’ll succeed. Yet, the impetuous youth I was seems to have died when I officially won Brian. The borderline arrogant, self-assured young man I became seems to have lost his zest for fighting for what I wanted. Strangely, it wasn’t that I’ve felt entitled to anything, but I’ve somehow come to expect it all the same. Did it happen when Brian and I finally decided to get married? Did I leave that part of myself on the altar of broken dreams now fulfilled? Have I basically become my own Michael, waiting and expecting for the impossible to occur then whining and complaining when it hasn’t or won’t happen? And when the fuck did I become so complacent in my own downfall? Well I’ve already achieved the impossible. I have the love and respect of Brian Kinney. The question is am I close to losing it?

Brian and I took a wrong turn somewhere. It wasn’t intentional but one wrong turn somehow became two until it became a series of them. I know that although Michael isn’t completely at fault, he’s certainly capitalized on our mistakes and there have been plenty of those. But I know that if Brian and I figure out where exactly we started to go wrong, we’ll be able to see our way clear. Either together or separately, Brian and I will always be friends. It’s what the whole saga of Brian Kinney and Justin Taylor was built on before we became the Taylor-Kinneys. Sex was only a small part of our story, contrary to popular opinion. It’s always been great but it’s such a miniscule increment of the total picture. I’ve always been able to talk to Brian, whether I thought so or not; whether he appeared to listen or not. But lately, we aren’t hearing each other. We’re not listening with every part of us, not just our ears. We used to do that. And that is what we need to get back to. We need to become the real best friends that we have always been to each other. Whether we can get back there or not will be the only real way to determine if I’m staying or going.