A Note in the Margin (28 page)

John
turned the engine off but didn’t get out of the car. He sat in the dark of his parking space and pulled out a cigarette. The flame of the lighter flared, briefly illuminating the interior then snapping back into darkness. Exhaling a long stream of smoke John leaned against the headrest and closed his eyes. He’d taken an earlier flight to get back to David, but now he was here….

He said he’d be here when you got back, McCann
.

John stabbed the cigarette into the ashtray.
He’ll be here.

The apartment was in darkness when John closed the door behind him. He left the lights off and made his way to the bedroom. The door was slightly ajar. John stood and listened as he peered into the gloom, but even before he saw the full backpack leaning against the chest of drawers he
knew
David was there.

Carefully, quietly, John undressed, all the while watching his sleeping lover until he realized David’s eyes weren’t closed at all and there was a gentle smile on his face. Laying his pants over the armchair, John grinned and whispered, “I didn’t want to wake you.”

David simply nodded and waited for John to climb into the bed beside him. As the mattress dipped, David relaxed for the first time in days.

“You okay?” John asked, feeling a little awkward.

“I’m okay,” David whispered, still smiling.

John nodded and tentatively reached out to push a strand of hair from David’s face. He wanted to touch him but something, perhaps the distance of the half-world he’d just traversed, made him hold back.

The two men lay in silence watching each other until David murmured, “I missed you, John.”

“Oh fuck, Dave.” John rapidly closed the distance between them and took David’s face in his hand. “I missed you so fucking much.” Their kiss was soft, but the gentle movement of their lips contained all the need and worry of the past few days.

Slowly, David’s hands moved to John’s body. His fingers reacquainted themselves with the smooth expanse of fair skin, touching then moving on to touch somewhere else. Although John’s tongue met David’s in the kiss he held back to let the other man lead.

Recognizing the almost tentative nature of the touches, John pulled away just enough to whisper, “It’s
all
okay, Dave.” David gave a tiny nod and reinitiated the kiss. This time it was stronger, more insistent. His leg slipped carefully between John’s until they straddled each other’s thighs.

“Feels good,” John moaned when David started a slow rock against him. His hands cupped David’s arse to hold him close, sliding his nose over the sensitive skin where stubbled jaw met the heat of a pulse point. John felt himself sink into David’s smell.

They moved together, without the desperation of the reunited, but of a couple who knew each other and were comfortable in the knowledge that the other knew them.

When they came it was quiet, just puffs of breath into each other’s mouth.

As the first signs of dawn filtered through the window they’d begun talking, that “real” kind of talking that only seems to occur in the early hours of the morning. “It was… I dunno,
strange
,” John said as he stared into the growing light trying to grasp exactly what it
was
like. “It was where I’m from, but not where I am now. Does that make any sense?”

David nodded and moved closer to rest under John’s arm. “It makes perfect sense,” he reassured, flexing and stretching his fingers until they barely made contact with John’s cheek, the pads lightly brushing over a faint laugh line.

John smiled his small half-smile that David had come to recognize as a sign of uncertainty. “I told my Aunt Annie about you… that I love you.” John’s voice held a quiet wonder that’d he’d done something either very brave, or very foolish. “I was scared to death, but she said she knew I wasn’t the ‘type’ to marry and have kids… even when
I
didn’t really know.” John chuckled at the euphemism she’d used and turned to catch David’s palm with his lips.

“I think I always knew,” David whispered, as if sharing a long-held secret.

John frowned at the admission and though he rarely pushed David on his past he had to ask. “Why’d you get married then?”

David didn’t need to consider his answer because it was so obvious to him. “I loved her. Still did when I left, I think.” He gave a small shrug at the look John gave him. “I was…
am
gay, John, but it didn’t stop me loving her, and I liked being married, having a family.” He paused and frowned, knowing what he was about to say had never actually been spoken out loud. “But I don’t think she ever loved me.”

It was a simple sentence but one that held so much hurt John couldn’t answer.
How could she
not
love you?
The question seemed so glaringly obvious yet it was one John knew he couldn’t ask.

After a few moments of silence John asked quietly, “Why did she marry you then, Dave? Was it Adam?”

David shook his head. “I’ve been thinking about that and I dunno. I guess I gave her what she needed at the time. A home, a family, and a husband with a good job. I was useful.”

Useful? What the fuck does that mean?
John ignored his past approach to his relationship with Marian and ached to verbalize his distaste, but the opportunity was gone when David asked, “Did you find out why your dad left?”

“I suppose I did,” John mumbled then sighed.

David nodded and lay watching the steady rise and fall of John’s chest.

“I missed my dad growing up. Not all the time, just sometimes,” he said and curled his fingers through David’s hair. “Sometimes I just wanted to tell him things or maybe wanted him to know how I was doing. It was rarely the important things because I had my grandparents for those, but more the everyday shit.” He shifted on the bed and pulled David closer. “I used to lie awake and wonder where he was; if he had a new family, if he ever thought about me. I never told Gran that, of course. Maybe I should have. Maybe I could found out before now that his new kids are my family, too, and he didn’t go to leave me behind.”

Light caresses graced John’s chest as he spoke. He glanced down, knowing where David’s mind had wandered, and pressed his lips to the hair that had fallen back over David’s forehead. “He’s a good boy, Dave. He’ll wait.”

“He talked to me, John.”

The statement was so quiet that John wasn’t sure he’d heard it correctly. Hauling himself, and David, a little higher against the pillow, John asked, “What do you mean he talked to you?”

David shrugged as if it was nothing, but both knew that wasn’t true. “On the phone. He called. I thought it was you.”

Fuck!
John took a moment to give David, and himself, a little breathing space before asking as casually as he knew how, “Was it okay? I mean, what did you talk about?”

The muscles in David’s jaw worked silently for a moment before he mumbled, “I didn’t really say anything, but I listened and he knew I was there.” John lay very still; tense to the point of pain waiting to hear more, desperate to ask for more. But he knew to listen. David’s eyes slid shut and he breathed against John’s skin. Slowly the words began again, “He told me about school, about a girl he likes, and….” The room grew silent as David’s face contorted with the threat of tears.

“Oh fuck. It’s a good thing, Dave. It’s a
very
good thing,” John whispered with near urgency. “He loves you. Wants you in his life and this is a start.” Taking a breath, John pressed his cheek against David’s hair. “Fuck, Dave. That would have meant so much to him.”

Focusing on the gentle rhythm of John’s breath wisping through his hair, David slowing began to release the knots of tension constricting his throat. “Did you know your dad loved you, John?”

“
There’s
a question,” John said almost flippantly, but fought the urge to leave it at that; something he’d become very good at over the years. “To be honest, Dave, I don’t really know.” Shifting a little, John eased them down, pulling the quilt around their shoulders. “Sometimes I believed my gran when she said he did; other times….” He sighed, fatigue finally catching up with him. “But maybe I can live with that now?”

Adam’s
grin said it all. John couldn’t resist giving him a good-natured shake of the head as he ordered their drinks and sat down at what was now their regular table. “I heard you spoke to your dad.” He chuckled, the smile still creasing the corners of his eyes.

“He told you? What did he say?” Adam sat forward, barely able to contain his joy.

John thought back to their quiet conversation in the early hours of that morning and said, “Just that you’d called. He thought it’d be me.”

Adam nodded. “He said your name when he picked up…. I thought he’d hang up when he knew it was me. But he didn’t.” Smiling at the waitress, Adam took his drink and fiddled with the straw, watching the bubbles detach from the wall of the glass and float to the surface. “I was so scared he’d hang up on me. It was as if I couldn’t breathe when I heard him and I didn’t know what to do, John. We used to talk all the time when I was a little kid and now, it was my
dad,
but at the same time it wasn’t.”

“He’s still your dad, Adam,” John said, well and truly relating to what the teenager was trying to come to terms with. “No matter what he’s been through he’s still your dad. Even if he can’t be there with you I know he liked hearing you, Adam, being part of your life.”

Adam looked up and asked, “Did he say that?”

John gave a single sad chuckle. “You know David; he doesn’t say much of
anything
. But it was pretty clear how he felt.”

With an expression that was part smile and part grimace Adam mimicked David perfectly.

“Oh I know that look all too well.” John laughed. “But believe me, Adam, it meant a lot to him and he misses you.”

“Then why can’t he fucking
talk
to me?” Adam blurted out, but quickly regretted giving voice to thoughts he’d tried so hard to repress. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I really do understand, but he’s my dad, John. Sometimes I need him to be my dad. I was just a kid when he left. I’m
still
a kid. He was meant to be the strong one….”

“I know,” John whispered and leaned closer to briefly touch Adam’s shoulder. “Sometimes life just doesn’t work out that way.”

John
thought about Adam a lot during his drive back to the bookstore. He’d been taking it all so well that John had almost forgotten that Adam was still just a boy, a boy who’d effectively lost his dad. It was just another reminder that life wasn’t that neat little jigsaw puzzle with a picture-perfect goal at the end.

He pulled the car to the side of the road, his thoughts not yet quite clear enough to relate any of the conversion to David. John released a long sigh.
How did you think this was all going to pan out? Dave would keep improving, he’d meet up with Adam, and… and what?

John didn’t have an answer.

The
tinkle of the shop bell and instant dimming of street noise settled all but the smallest amount of the anxiety that had balled in John’s chest. Margins was warm and he stood for a moment to let the smell of paper and brewed tea waft over him. John smiled and wandered into the kitchen to fill his mug from the teapot he knew would be at the right temperature for drinking.

David and Jamie were sitting in the old chairs when John rounded the bookshelf. He winked at David, who was listening to a wide-eyed Jamie exclaim, “And then he fuckin’ bit me!”

With a roll of his eyes John threw a paper bag into the storyteller’s lap. “Here, I brought back a couple of doughnuts. They might shut you up for a while; although somehow I doubt it.”

Jamie simply grinned, pulled out one of the doughnuts, and placed it next to David’s half of their sandwich.

The
wind tugged bitterly at John as he sidled up to David and murmured, “So… will you let me buy you that jacket now?” David smiled but shook his head and continued walking down the aisle between the trestle tables of the market. When they reached the rack of winter jackets, John shot David a look and grumbled, “You’re a stubborn bastard, aren’t you?”

David grinned and pulled a face, unaware that the stallholder had moved up behind him. The hand on his shoulder was innocent enough, but David froze at the touch; his eyes locked on some empty space in front of him.

It took a moment for John to realize what just happened, but no time at all for him to divert the stallholder’s attention to another customer and get him away from David. While the man rummaged through his stock for a requested size, John moved to David’s side and said quietly, “He didn’t mean anything, Dave.”

David glanced down at his feet and nodded. “I know.”

John watched David carefully, waiting for the focus to return to his eyes. Keeping his voice low and calm, he reassured him. “He’s gone now.”

Another small nod and he whispered, “I know.” This time, however, David looked up and met John’s eyes.

“You do need a new jacket though.” John smiled, leaning in to give David a light bump, relieved when his smile was returned.

Letting out a long breath David shrugged and admitted, “I guess I do.”

“So….” John started playfully, recognizing that David was back with him. “You gonna let me buy it?”

David just looked at John and with a cheeky tilt to his head he made a show of pulling out his own wallet.

With the new jacket safely folded in a generic white plastic bag, the pair headed for the warmth of the café. Before they reached the door David glanced at the nearby public toilet block and said, “Just gotta pee. I won’t be long.”

“Sure. You want a tea?” John asked as he felt the welcoming rush of warm air from the café’s open door. With a raise of his hand in agreement, David wandered through the battered and graffiti-covered door of the male toilets.

David smiled at his slightly blurry face reflected between the scratches on the bathroom mirror, then set about washing his hands. He was nearly done when he became aware of movement in the room and glanced back at the mirror to see a figure standing very close behind him.

“New territory?” the man asked cryptically. There was familiarity to the voice, but definitely not that of a friend.

David instantly dropped his gaze to his hands. He focused on the last of the soap bubbles as they popped and dissolved under the stream of water. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mumbled.

The laugh David heard was one of total derision and bile rose in his throat. “Sure you do,” the man whispered, his breath hot over the back of David’s ear. “So do you charge more for a blow now you’re all shaved and pretty?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking….” David breathed through gritted teeth only to be cut off.

“Shut it,” the man hissed. “I liked you better when you didn’t talk; couldn’t talk ’cause you were on your knees in the piss with your lips wrapped around my cock.”

No!
David straightened up and shook his head. “No… not me.” He spun around and glared at the man, who saw only the anger and none of the fear. “That is
not
me now!”

Not understanding David’s reaction, the man quickly stepped back. He wasn’t used to this kind of response; sullen acceptance or a barrier of shame, but not what he perceived to be aggression. “Well, plenty more whores around.” He sneered, spat at David’s feet, and quickly exited the toilet block while trying to keep his façade of control intact.

Drops of water fell from trembling fingers as David stood and watched the now-empty doorway. A wave of nausea hit and David gulped in air until it passed enough for him to turn back to the sink.

He leaned heavily on the porcelain bowl; the tap was still running and David watched the water rush into the rust-stained drain. When the shaking of his knees finally subsided and regained the ability to support him, David reached out and filled both hands with water. He immersed his face until the water slowly trickled through his fingers, then stood breathing into his wet hands thinking the same thought over and over.
Not me now.

Squeezing his eyes shut, David lowered his hands. It took him several moments to get the courage to open them and look at the mirror. Looking back wasn’t the smiling man of only minutes before, but it also wasn’t the disheveled homeless man who did tricks to survive. David tore off a section of paper towel and dried his face and hands with rough swipes, all the while staring at his reflection.

Not me now.

The pale eyes simply looked back at him as if in defiance of the claim.
You haven’t changed. Yes, you’re clean and lice free, but he recognized you for what you are.

David shook his head.
No. Please…. That’s not me now.

As if to back his plea, David stripped himself of his old jacket and threw it in the trash. The thin plastic of the bag collapsed in around his damp hand as he reached for the jacket. It took several shakes but the garment finally emerged and the bag fluttered to the floor.

With his new jacket on and zipped, he stood his ground in front of the mirror.
I bought this. I earned it.
David’s chest heaved while the thoughts were repeated.

Slowly his sight left the mirror and he stepped away from the sink.

John
was just carrying the tea to a table when David entered the café.
It’s okay. Sit with John. It’s okay now.
He sat in the old wooden chair desperately clinging to that thought.

“Jacket looks good.” John grinned and pushed a cup across the table. He took a sip, grimaced, and reached for the sugar. Piling in a couple of spoonfuls, John looked over at David and said, “You know, Adam was pretty excited about being able to talk to you and I was thinking that maybe you could make it a regular thing?”

The rhythmic clink of the teaspoon as John stirred his tea all but drowned out John’s suggestion. David knew something had been said about Adam, but what it was was lost to him as he watched the silver spoon swirl through the contents of the cup.

Not realizing David wasn’t following what he’d said, John continued to talk about possible scenarios for the one-sided conversations with Adam, and maybe a hint that David could gradually join in. The spoon stilled and he laid it on the table to take an appreciative swallow. “They do good tea here.” He smiled and gave David a quick wink. “You know, I’m sure it really helps him to know that you want to be part of his life again.”

Part of his life again.
The light in the café glared a sickly yellow; it irritated the periphery of David’s vision. He tried to blink it away while he picked at a small fiber caught in a splinter on the edge of the table. As his cold fingers kept slipping off, his agitation grew.

The smiled slipped from John’s lips and he carefully reached across the table and closed his fingers over David’s to still his hand. “Drink your tea, Dave; it’ll warm you up.”

David slowly withdrew his hand from under John’s and wrapped it around the hot cup.

He didn’t look up.

What’s going on, David?
John sat quietly watching his lover, well aware that the mood had changed again and David was struggling.
This can’t still be over what happened at the market….

He was about to ask when a group of teenage girls entered the café laughing and chatting. Just the sound of happy teenagers, but it jarred David’s raw nerves. He stood up with an abruptness that spilled tea into the white saucer.

It was too loud, too…
too much,
and he had to get out.

The girls mouthed abuse as he pushed past them and out the door, but John sat staring, his fingers still clutching his tea.
What the fuck just happened?

When the door swung shut John gave himself a mental shake, threw a few notes on the table, and quickly followed, half-expecting to find the sidewalk empty.

David paced a few steps, then turned and paced some more. He needed to move, but didn’t want to leave. Confusion warred with reason.

John’s relief at seeing David was quickly replaced with concern; he’d seen David agitated before, but not like this. “What’s going on, David?” he asked, edging into David’s line of sight. “Things are getting better. You have a home, you and Adam are communicating….”

David took in half-words, not able to make sense of what John was saying above the static of his jumbled thoughts. His arms hurt and he rubbed at them, turning away from John. He wanted John to stop… needed John to stop, to leave him alone….

Not knowing what else to do, John reached out and put his hand on David’s back. Physical contact had worked before and brought David back to him, but rather than settling with the touch it had the opposite effect. David pulled away violently and held up a warning hand for John to back off. David’s face held a mixture of fear and frustration, but also something John had not seen before: anger.

“David?” John said the name quietly but his own hurt and confusion were clear.

David turned and looked at John. He wanted it to be okay, to take that expression from John’s face, but at that moment in time there seemed no way he could make that happen.

With a frustrated shake of his head, David lifted his hand to his face, where it rubbed anxiously at his cheek and lips until it finally settled to cover his mouth.

Fuck no. Don’t let this happen.
A chill started to settle in John’s gut. He could see where this was heading and felt completely helpless to stop it. “Come home, David. Please,” he pleaded quietly and half-held his hand out.

This time David nodded, but didn’t move toward John. Slowly he turned and walked away.

John stood on the sidewalk and watched where the back of the man he loved disappeared from view.