Yes (23 page)

“How many?”

“Twenty-one. He says the word ‘no’ twenty-one times.”

Ian sat up and took a drink of milk. “Okay. So how many times does he say the word—?”

“Once. He only says it once, and it’s the turning point of the play. It’s the moment when he wakes up to love.”

The back door opened, and Stanton walked in. “Oops. Am I interrupting something?”

“Of course not,” Topher said. “Have you met Ian?”

“I thought your name was Ryan.”

“It is. Kind of.”

Stanton crossed behind Topher and leaned over to kiss him. “Did you look in on the kids?”

“What do you think?”

Stanton took a swig of Topher’s beer. “Was Grace still sniffling?”

“No, she’s better. I could use some attention, though. I haven’t seen you all night. What did you think of ‘Thunder Road’?”

Stanton placed the beer bottle on the table and rubbed Topher’s shoulders. “It took balls, that’s for sure.”

“You didn’t like it,” Topher said.

“I thought it was a fun idea. The crowd loved it. But musically, it wasn’t your finest moment. I used to think you could sing anything, but tonight you proved me wrong.”

Ian put his hand over his mouth and mumbled, “Oh my God, that was so harsh.”

Topher laughed. “You think that was harsh? Trust me, he’s just getting warmed up. But that’s one of the reasons I love him. He never sugarcoats it with me.”

“Your hair looked good.”

“That’s what he says when he hates something.”

Stanton grinned. “Let’s hope it doesn’t go viral on YouTube.”

“Should we go back to the party?” Topher said.

Ian stood up. “Good idea.”

Stanton leaned down and whispered into Topher’s ear, “Or we could go upstairs, and I could show you some attention.”

Topher bit his lip and grinned like a schoolboy, clearly defenseless against Stanton’s charms. “Will you give me a back rub?”

“As Long As You Love Me.”

“Ian,” Topher said. “Can you find your way back on your own?”

“Don’t worry, boys, I gotcha covered. I’m about to disappear. Topher, thanks for the talk.”

“You’re welcome. It’s gonna work out. I promise.”

Ryan left the kitchen and crossed the backyard. He started up the stairs to the garage apartment but then paused when he heard the first note. The party had gone silent, except for the sound of someone playing the violin. Ryan continued up the steps and slipped through the door unnoticed. Matthew stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by the other partygoers, giving a command performance. Ryan didn’t know enough about classical music to recognize the piece, but he knew enough to recognize Matthew’s skill—not to mention that his frenetic and emotional style only added to his already considerable sex appeal.

Matthew finished to wild applause. Robin and Maurice came to his side and put their arms around him. “You’re playing on our next album,” one of them said, though Ryan didn’t know which one. “Marvin, can you write something for Matthew?”

“How about a duet for violin and tenor?”

Matthew saw Ryan next to the door and mouthed, “Can you believe this?” He handed the violin to one of the quartet members and crossed the room. “Where did you go?”

“I was in the house, talking to Topher,” Ryan said. “I met the kids.”

“No way. Where is he now?”

“Having sex with his husband. What happened to you?”

Matthew threw up his hands. “I have no idea. Robin and Maurice got me stoned—really good shit, by the way—then they said I had to play something. And I was like, okay, but I don’t have my instrument. So one of the violinists from the quartet lent me his, and the next thing I know, I’m standing in front of Marvin Goldstein playing the opening Allegro moderato from Tchaikovsky’s Concerto in D Major.”

“Is that a hard one?” Ryan asked.

“It’s very challenging technically, but I think I knocked it out of the park.”

“It sounded amazing, at least the part I heard.”

“What did you and Topher talk about?”

“A little bit of everything. Boy bands, Shakespeare plays, and his kids, of course. They’re really cute. Did you meet Peter?”

“No,” Matthew said. “He’s been talking to Marvin all night. But Robin and Maurice are off the hook. I might actually get to record something with them. Can you believe that? And to think all this happened because your uncle gave me a job. I would never have met Quentin otherwise. You know, before he went to Denver, Ian told me he always wanted to open an enchanted coffee shop. He thought it was stupid, but maybe that’s exactly what he did.”

“You might be right.”

Matthew introduced Ryan to Robin and Maurice, and the four of them spent the rest of the night on the small patio outside the bedroom. Some of the stories the twins told about their childhood were terrifying, but they seemed to take it all in stride. Topher eventually came back to the party, and Matthew got to meet him. Around five in the morning, Matthew began nodding off, so they said good night, and Ryan helped him into the truck.

“I pulled an all-nighter to finish my paper,” Matthew said. “I haven’t slept in two days.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Good thing you don’t have to work until four. I have to be there in two hours.”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t even thinking.”

“Don’t apologize. I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. One night without sleep isn’t going to kill me.”

They arrived at Matthew’s house, and Ryan carried him to his room. He sat on the edge of the bed and watched him sleep. He had planned to tell Matthew they couldn’t have sex anymore, but now that would have to wait. Instead he turned off the lights, slipped out of the house, and drove home.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

T
HE
NEXT
afternoon at four o’clock, Ryan and Matthew passed each other, as their shifts overlapped at La Tazza.

“Thanks for putting me to bed this morning.”

“You’re welcome,” Ryan said. “I’d love to stick around and talk, but I need to hit the sack. Do you mind?”

“Not at all. Last night was epic. Do you think they were serious about writing a song for me and Topher?”

“They don’t strike me as the bullshitting type. I’ll see you tomorrow night for Jeopardy Pursuit?”

“You bet. I need Friday and Saturday off to study, though.”

“You too?”

Matthew winked. “Do you want me to fail?”

Ryan turned and walked to the door. “No, I don’t. Ask Sam if he can cover for you. He’s working from seven to close.”

“Will do, Parker. Get some sleep.”

W
HEN
HE
got home, Ryan took a shower and thought about how to break up with Matthew. He should have known an office romance would never work out. After he dried off, Ian crawled into bed and called Mark.

“How was the concert last night?”

“Fun,” Ian said. “I met Topher Manning.”

“Who’s that?”

“It doesn’t matter. Have you heard from Tad?”

“Not yet. He said it would be a few days.”

“I need to end things with Matthew,” Ian said. “But I’m going to wait until after tomorrow night. You haven’t forgotten about Jeopardy Pursuit, have you?”

“No, I haven’t forgotten.”

“It starts at seven. Don’t be late.”

Ian ended the call and pushed his head into the pillow. A minute later, the phone on the nightstand vibrated. He grinned, pressed the screen, and lowered his voice.

“Hey, Bartley.”

“Hey, stud. Were you sleeping? Your voice sounds a little groggy.”

“No, I was just resting. Are you at work?”

“I’m at home. I took the afternoon off.”

“Is everything okay?”

Ian sat up and waited for an answer.

“It will be,” Bartley said. “Do you have a minute?”

“Sure. I’m right here.”

“It’s just…. Something happened to me, and I haven’t told anyone the whole story yet. You said the other day that being HIV positive wasn’t a dirty little secret. I’ve been thinking about that a lot.”

“What am I missing here? You already told me you’re poz.”

“I know,” Bartley said. “But I haven’t told you how I got it.”

“It doesn’t matter. Really.”

“It does to me. I think it’s a piece of information you might need in the future—to explain my crazy thoughts and all my trust issues.”

“What’s this about, Bartley?”

“Before Saturday, there were only three people who knew about my HIV status—my doctor, my dentist, and a social worker I talked to for ten minutes.”

“You mean you haven’t told your family?” Ian asked.

“No.”

“Or even a friend?”

“No. It’s been my dirty little secret.”

“I didn’t mean it that way, Bartley. We all go through a denial stage at the beginning.”

“I know, but I got stuck there. When I dropped by La Tazza on Sunday, I told Ryan and Matthew that I’m positive—and it felt amazing. It was like coming out of the closet all over again. I realized I need to do more of that. I need to tell someone what happened, and I’d like that someone to be you.”

“Okay. I’m listening.”

“Mason and I were in a monogamous relationship. We didn’t use condoms. Last summer, he started working on the weekends. He said it was a special project, but he never picked up his phone when I called him. Then after Labor Day, I went in for a routine HIV test. It came back positive. I had them redo it, but the second one came back positive too.”

“Oh, no.”

“You see where this is going?”

“He cheated and then gave you HIV?”

“I’ve never been deceived like that before, Ian. At least, not with those kinds of consequences. It shattered everything. My mind, my heart, my whole life. And it wasn’t really the HIV. It was the betrayal. I told my friends that Mason and I broke up, but I didn’t give them any explanation why. I eventually stopped socializing to avoid their questions. I worked and slept—and that was about it. I told you, it was the worst winter of my life. Then spring came, and I found myself looking forward to seeing you at La Tazza, and to our chats about sandwiches and soap operas.”

“Bartley, I would give anything to be there right now. I would kiss you, and hold you in my arms, and tell you everything’s going to be okay. And it will be. I wish I could turn back time and wipe away all the damage Mason caused, but I can’t. All I can do is help you put the pieces back together, if you’ll let me.”

Ian heard sobs, and Bartley said, “I know what you’re thinking. How could I have been such a fool, right?”

“That’s not what I’m thinking.”

“I’m so pissed off. I have these moments of blind rage, when all I can think about is ripping his throat out. I feel so ashamed and stupid for trusting him.”

“Please,” Ian said. “Don’t feel ashamed and stupid. I know that’s easy for me to say, but he’s the one who should feel that way, not you. You did everything right. You loved someone and believed in him. What’s the alternative?”

“I don’t know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be such a downer.”

“You’re not being a downer, and besides, now the secret is out. You told me. It’s time to turn the corner and move on.”

Bartley laughed and sniffed. “That’s what Rachel said.”

“Who’s Rachel?”

“The woman who did my tattoo.”

Ian stood up. “Are you ready to tell me what it means?”

“Do you mind?”

“Mind? I’d be honored.”

“Okay.” Bartley cleared his throat. “A few weeks back, I was having lunch with two of the women I work with. One of them reads tarot cards, so she took out her deck and told me to pick one. I pulled the reversed Five of Cups, which she said signifies acceptance and resolution. Then she added, ‘Very interesting.’ An hour later, she texted me the address for a tattoo parlor and a name. Rachel. I texted her back a question mark, and she replied simply, ‘Go.’ This was just before you went to Denver.”

“I remember.”

“So that evening, I grabbed some dinner at Julio’s and drove over to the tattoo parlor. When I walked in the door, this small woman with black hair and a black tank top said, ‘Are you Bartley?’ She introduced herself as Rachel, gestured to a chair, and I sat down. She just stood there and looked right through me. I’m talking straight into my soul. After about a minute, she tapped the inside of my right forearm and said, ‘How about right there?’ I didn’t know what to do. She hadn’t even asked me what kind of tattoo I wanted. She must have seen the doubt on my face, because she said, ‘You’re afraid to trust your instincts because they failed you once.’ I kind of laughed and nodded and said, ‘Right there would be fine.’ An hour later, she finished the work and covered it with a bandage. She asked for my phone number and then texted me a picture of two Chinese symbols, which she explained represented the central struggle of my life. I asked her why I only got a tattoo of one of the symbols, and she said, ‘People will always do shitty things to us, Bartley, but it’s our ability to turn the corner and move on that matters. Remind yourself of that every day, and show a little gratitude that you’re still alive to feel the pain.’”

“Whoa,” Ian said. “Rachel is totally hardcore badass. Did she ever tell you what the symbols mean?”

“It was on the picture. Hold on. I’ll send it to you.”

Ian waited a few seconds and then opened Bartley’s text messages. He tapped on the picture.