Page 14 of Cleats and Pumps

The next few weeks were a whirlwind. I had to meet the committee members, then I got to meet Lewis, who was a doll baby, definitely not suitable for the butch guy turned drag queen in the musical, but he did sing the Queen’s Lament, as it’d been called, in a way that caused even me, who wrote most of the music, to cry.

Weeks quickly turned to months, and my love for Anton grew stronger with time. A year passed before we were ready to rent the theater and begin interviewing crew, choreographers, dancers, cast, and orchestra.

We were walking through Centennial Park since I’d had to return to Nashville to get work done for a few clients. Musicals made money, but nothing like what I made from the songs I wrote for country artists. The ones who hit the top ten bankrolled me for a long time.

Luckily, okay, not luck, Keith threw a fit getting Peter involved. Anton got the message and joined me in Nashville for a few days.

“Um,” Anton said, drawing my attention. “I… well—”

He paused, and I looked at him. “Anton, what’s wrong?”

He sighed. “I miss you, like all the time. You’re here in Nashville, and I’m in New York, and I never get to see you unless you or I travel. Then it’s only a few days at a time. I-I want that to change, need it to change. I mean, you want this to continue, don’t you?” he asked, causing me to cock my eyebrow.

“Of course, I want this to continue. What are you suggesting, Anton?”

“Move to New York and live with me. We can bring your music equipment up, set it all up in the upper room, you can work from there, and then once the musical is running, we can come back and live here if you want, but I-I want to be a couple, a real couple.”

Okay, I admit it, I’m a crybaby. The kind that cries at Hallmark commercials. In my defense, though, that was everything I wanted to hear from Anton.

I nodded. “Yeah, I… yeah, I do want the same thing, Anton. I, well, I’m in love with you.”

Now, Nashville isn’t the most open place in the world, and I don’t usually show affection in public, but when Anton threw hisarms around me and kissed me square on the lips, I could do nothing else but return his affection.

He touched his forehead to mine and whispered, “I love you too.”

11

Epilogue: Finding Alec

Yes,yes,Ilikefootball. Is that weird for a gay man? Yeah, a little, although I have plenty of gay friends who do as well.

Bless my sweet man’s heart. He’d been working long days getting the show set up. He’d taken on lead producer, which, now I knew that’s what he’d been doing for the past two decades, I wasn’t surprised.

Iwassurprised at how intensive the work was.

When Jim and I met over coffee, I told him about my concerns, and Jim immediately said we should join him tonight for supper and karaoke at the bar he liked to go to.

I immediately cringed. “Sorry, Jim, these ears can’t handle that. It’d break me.”

He laughed. “The bar is literally filled with Broadway stars and wannabes. You’ll be fine.”

I shrugged, and when I mentioned it to Anton, he readily agreed.

We had only just gotten settled, and I was already impressed with the music. It was like going to a show but not having to pay monstrous prices.

Behind us, a guy barreled past and onto the stage and demanded the DJ playYou Oughta Know. There was a buzz in the crowd, and I knew something must be going on, so I turned and saw one of my favorite football players, Amos Clark, snuggled up to a very attractive guy who was scowling like someone had pissed in his drink.

Amos, however, was smiling. “Is Amos Clark gay?” I asked Anton, who turned to see who I was talking about.

“Oh, you’ve not been watching the news,” Jim said. “Not only is he gay, but he’s a drag queen. The press has been crucifying him.”

“No way,” I said, forcing myself not to turn around and gawk. Amos surprised me and everyone then, as he went to the DJ and said something. I could tell the guy wasn’t pleased, probably because there were a lot of people in front of him, but eventually, he gave a resigned look and nodded.

The music stopped as Amos walked on stage. The fact that he sangDon’t Lose Your Headfrom the musical about King Henry the Eighth, Six, the Musical, made me cock an eyebrow.

When Amos Clark, the famous linebacker, opened his mouth, I almost fell out of my chair. “What the fuck?” I said and turned toward Anton, who was smiling. “Did you put him up to this?Don’t Lose Your Head,really? Like off with your head?”

Anton continued to smile, but Amos turned around and began twerking, and all three of us lost it.

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