Page 10 of Contingently Yours
“Lou assigned another agent to show them the properties with me, and they, for some reason, assumed that we’re a couple, so…I just went with it.”
“You what?” Shaw gapes.
Terry scoffs, but then throws a hand out and looks at my cousin. “See? I’m not the only one.”
Why does everyone think I’m gay all of a sudden? It’s not my fault Lucas’ opening line to Dario was a profession of his love for him. When I said the word‘partner,’I didn’t think they’d take that as aromanticpartner. Once the assumption was made, I honestly saw no other viable option considering how Destination had just shit on them.
Sighing, I scrub my face, frustrated by this interrogation. “Look. It was out of my hands. Okay? Lucas fangirled over Dario because apparently, he has a giant man-crush on him, and then I introduced him as my ‘partner,’ but I meantworkpartner. Your dad said they came to us because the last agency was bigoted toward them, so I figured what better way to make them feel welcome and accepted?”
“By lying to them?” Terry chirps. “Ugh. I can’t with you.” Throwing his hands up, he stomps deeper into the kitchen. Hopefully, he’ll stay there.
“So…not only do you now need to present as a gay man, but you need to present as a gay couple with…” Shaw trails off. “Wait a minute. Isn’t Lucas that guy who kicked your ass last year?”
“He didnotkick my ass.”
Why is he laughing? It wasn’t funny then, and it’s not funny now.
“Oh, man. I can just imagine what my dad thinks about this.”
“Whatever,” I mumble, shifting on the cushion at the thought of steam coming out of Uncle Lou’s ears. “Can you help me or not?”
Shaw studies me for a moment and then guffaws. “Oh, brother. He doesn’t know, does he?”
Pious people practice vows of silence. Right? You’d think that would mean some kind of higher power would be in their favor, but it does zilch for me at the moment, producing another round of laughter from Shaw.
Sighing, I get up and head to the fridge. If they’re going to torture me, they could at least offer me a beverage. “I’ll tell him,” I throw over my shoulder. “Just…after I get on the plane.”
Terry frowns at me when I pull a beer out of the fridge and pop the cap off. As soon as I set it on the counter, he slaps his palm over it and whips it into the garbage can like it was a dirty diaper. Can you say dramatic?
“Cranky much?” I challenge. “SorryI interrupted your fucking.”
“Uh, hello.Notfucking because ofyou. This was the first time we were both home together in two weeks.”
“Well, then make this quick, so you can get back to it. How do I pull off looking like a boyfriend?”
“Oh, my God,” he laughs, covering his mouth like he’s containing excitement over a secret. “You don’t need to know how to be gay, you need to know how to not look like an insensitive asshole.”
“What?”
“You don’t date. You’ve never dated in all the years I’ve known you.” Glancing over at my cousin, he calls out, “Shaw? Help me out here. Am I right?”
No shit, I don’t date. Terry’s not getting a rocket scientist award from me for that remark. I watch Shaw tromp into the kitchen and impatiently wait for one of them to offer something helpful.
“Drew, gay, bi, pan people—anyone who’s attracted to men—you can’t just lump their behavior, looks, or idiosyncrasies into a collective. That’s insulting, even for you.”
“Ugh. You know what I meant,” I say, speaking to the ceiling because it might listen better than these two. “Only the Hepperlys and Terry think I’m into guys. I just want to keep it that way until they buy some islands, which, I might add, will bulk up your inheritance.”
“You are so disgusting,” Terry mutters and stalks off to do the dishes, angry style.
“Gee,” Shaw deadpans, grabbing a jug of orange juice from the fridge. “That is so thoughtful of you, but I think I’ve done all right without waiting for Dad to kick the bucket.”
I drum my fingers as he drinks straight from the container. Silently, I note that Terry flashes him the stink eye. I know Shaw is right. No two gay men are the same. Some freak out over beer bottle caps being left on the counter, while others drink directly from orange juice jugs. Got it. That’s just human nature, sexual preferences aside. But Terry’s right, too. I don’t date.
While I have an inkling of what it might be like to date a woman, I have no freaking clue what it looks like to date a guy. The part after dating, I fully comprehend. Look at these two ill-matched people, bickering over stupid shit all the time. Look at my parents—copacetic enough as long as they each avoid the other’s lengthy list of triggers.
Marriage is chaining yourself to the idea of tolerating a bunch of crap no sane person needs in their life.Thatis why I don’t date. And yet, every single one of my friends has fallen down that pit of despair, even my favorite cousin. At least he and Terrydon’t have kids, so I can still hang out with them without having to hear how they can try to squeeze me in around playdates and little league schedules like my other friends. And that’s only if and when they can find babysitters. I stand firm. Marriage is a chain. Children are the anchor attached to it. I am perfectly fine being a parasail zipping by unfettered, even if it does occasionally get boring and lonely.
“I don’t know what you want me to tell you,” Shaw digresses. “Just be attentive. Look like you give a shit about everything Lucas says or does. Everything he doesn’t say or do. Include him in the conversations. I’d tell you to throw out stories about things you’ve done together as a couple, but—” he holds out a hand, “—here we are.”
