"Coup de Foudre" 72
A ride up the mountain.
By Gaedhal
Pittsburgh, July 2016
“Gus, what else do you have to do this afternoon?” Brian asked.
“I’m just cleaning up Mr. Murphy’s office, Dad… I mean, Mr. Kinney.” Gus had a wastebasket in his hands. The Art Department created a lot of refuse and someone, usually the lowest intern on the totem pole, had to collect and dispose of it.
Brian raised an eyebrow. “Are you doing a good job?”
Gus considered a couple of snarky answers, but then thought better of it. It didn’t help to smart mouth to the boss, even if he was his own father. “I’m trying. Mr. Murphy told me I’m doing okay.” Yes, as long as he doesn’t find out what I was doing on my lunch hour the other day. He had to be careful about leaving the office. He wished he hadn’t had to use Sierra, or her car. She was way too skittish for serious surveillance work.
“Tell Murph that you’ll be leaving a little early this afternoon. He won’t mind - it’s Friday.”
Gus perked up. “Where am I going? Or where are we going? Someplace good?”
“You’ll see,” said Brian. “But finish your work first. Then come to my office.”
Gus buzzed through the offices like a whirlwind, emptying wastebaskets and filling two big garbage bags. The last office was Justin Taylor’s. He hesitated, but then knocked. Taylor had garbage, too, and it had to be picked up.
No response. The door was slightly ajar, so Gus pushed it and peeked inside.
Taylor wasn’t there. And his stuff - his messenger bag and portfolio and water bottle - were gone. The computer was turned off and the desk tidy. It looked like Taylor had left for an early weekend, too.
“Good riddance,” thought Gus. He paused as he picked up Taylor’s wastebasket, tempted to paw through it. No one was around, so why not? Unfortunately, Taylor’s trash was disappointingly mundane. Some discarded sketches. A candy wrapper. A coffee cup. No incriminating letters, no private memos, and no secret messages in code.
Since there was no one around, Gus decided to be bold. That’s what he had to be if he was going to find out anything important. So he tried Taylor’s desk. Shit. The drawers were locked. There must be something good inside, but what? Maybe photos. Maybe Taylor was blackmailing his dad with some kind of obscene pictures! Gus rattled the middle drawer, but it was no good, it was locked up tight.
“Gus!”
Gus was so startled he stumbled over Taylor’s chair, banging his knee. But it was only Sierra.
“Ow! Jesus! Kill me, why don’t you?”
Sierra put her hands on her hips. “What are you doing in here? Snooping?”
Gus pointed to the wastebasket. “I’m doing my job! What’s your excuse?”
Sierra tossed her head. “What’s the deal with you and Justin Taylor? I get that he and Mr. Kinney are…” She hesitated, searching for the correct way to put it. “Together. But what’s wrong with that? Julie thinks they’re hot.”
“Stop talking about my father like that!” Gus shouted.
“You better keep your voice down if you don’t want the whole office to know what you’ve been up to,” Sierra retorted. “And you better cut it out, too. People in this office like Mr. Taylor, which is more than I can say about you. They put up with you because your dad owns this company, but that doesn’t mean they like your diva behavior. I’m lucky I didn’t get fired the other day driving you around on your little spy mission. But I’m not doing it again! I mean it! And you better stay out of Mr. Taylor’s office, or I’ll tell him what you’ve been up to.”
Gus emptied Taylor’s trash into the garbage bag. “What I’m doing in here is my job. And that’s all!” He was steaming, but he couldn’t let Sierra know that she had rattled him. “So butt out.”
“I will,” Sierra sniffed. “Have a nice weekend. Oh, and by the way - Mr. Taylor keeps his desk locked, in case you’re interested.”
“I know!” Gus returned. But then he realized his mistake. “I mean, I figured.”
“Busted,” Sierra laughed as she walked back down the hall.
Gus peered out the door. Almost everyone on the floor was either out of their offices or had already left for the weekend, so nobody had heard. At least he hoped nobody had. He dragged the heavy garbage bag to the elevator and took it down to the dumpster. Finished. He only wished he could toss Justin Taylor in there, too. And Sierra. And maybe Julie for good measure. Bitches.
“I’m ready!” said Gus, presenting himself at his father’s office. Brian was slipping some folders into his leather carry-all.
“Good,” said Brian.
“Are we getting Thai for take-out?” Gus asked as they walked to the elevator.
“Um… not this evening. I thought we’d go for a ride.”
“A ride? To where?”
“You’ll see.”
They had taken the Harley to work. Gus always liked it when they rode the motorcycle. It was a thrill hurdling through the streets, clinging to his father. Brian had promised to teach him to drive the Harley - eventually. “Maybe I’ll get you a smaller bike,” he’d told him. “A Harley is a little big for you.”
“What about a dirt bike?” Gus had suggested.
“I was thinking more like a motor scooter.”
Gus had made a face. “A motor scooter! That’s not cool! A dirt bike is cool!”
But Brian had shut him down. “It’s a moot point, since you don’t have either. I thought your focus was on a car when you get your permanent license?”
“Yes! A car would be my first choice, but a motorcycle is good, too.”
His father had rolled his eyes. “Jesus! Rich brats! You’re exactly the kind of snotty douchebag whose ass I used to kick back in the day.”
“What are you smiling at?” Brian asked as he handed Gus the rider’s helmet.
“Nothing,” said Gus. “Thinking of stuff.”
“Get on the bike.”
They zoomed through the city. Pittsburgh is hilly, and going up and down those hills made Gus’s stomach lurch, but in a good way, like on a roller coaster.
Up, up, up, they climbed, until Gus felt dizzy. Finally Brian came to a stop. They were high on a ridge, overlooking the entire city. Pittsburgh, which Gus had always considered boring and ugly compared to Toronto and Los Angeles, looked awesome - the rivers converging, the stadium and ballpark, and the neighborhoods and far-away hills stretching into the distance.
“Wow!” Gus exclaimed. “Where are we?”
“Mount Washington,” said Brian. “I always enjoyed this view. Mikey and I used to come up here and sit in this very spot.” Brian sat down on a bench. “Of course, we didn’t have such stellar transportation. But the bus or the incline always worked.”
“This is so cool!” said Gus. He sat down next to his father. “I’ve never been up here.”
“Yes you have. When you were little,” Brian said. “Justin and I used to take you.”
Fuck, thought Gus. Is that why his dad brought him up here? To talk about that asshole? “I don’t want to talk about him.”
But Brian persisted. “I think we need to. And if you think Justin’s an asshole, then you have the wrong impression.”
“No, I don’t! He is an asshole! I know he is,” Gus spat. “I don’t care that you’re fucking him. I know you fuck guys and don’t care anything about them. But don’t pretend you care about Justin Taylor! You don’t! You can’t! I know you can’t! Not after what he did to you.”
Brian tried to be patient, but it was hard. Brian was not ordinarily a patient person, but one exception had always been in his relationship with Gus. Now Gus was testing that patience. He was bull-headed - as bull-headed as Brian himself. Brian felt like kicking himself for not nipping this whole Justin thing in the bud before it got out of hand. Justin was right. They all should have talked this out earlier. But it still wasn’t too late.
“Gus - listen to me. Are you listening?”
“Yeah.” Gus was sullen. “I’m listening.”
“Justin didn’t do anything to me. Relationships are difficult things and things happen while you’re in one.”
“So?”
“So, I’m saying that’s the way it was with me and Justin. And it was also the way it was with me and Ron. We had our ups and downs, especially in the early days.”
“I never saw it,” Gus insisted.
“Then you’re suffering from selective memory. Because some of our fights were knock-down-drag-out super-queen-outs. Both of us were strong personalities and that can make for trouble because we both always wanted to be right. But in the end we worked things out because…” Brian paused. This was a bitch, but necessary. “Because we loved each other.”
“I know,” said Gus, hanging his head.
“And I loved Justin, too.”
“But…”
“Don’t interrupt,” said Brian. “I loved Justin and we were together, for better and for worse, for five years. It wasn’t always easy. Justin was too young - he was only 17 when we met - and I was the one who was the asshole, if you want to know the truth. But we both had a lot to learn. We hurt each other. But that’s the key - we. He didn’t hurt me any more than I hurt him.”
“But he left you alone!” Gus replied. “I know that much. And he was mean to you!”
Brian smiled grimly. “Who told you that?”
Gus stopped, searching his memory. “I… I can’t exactly remember. Uncle Michael, maybe. Or Mrs. Horvath. Or… somebody.”
“What you heard was bits and pieces of a long story,” Brian explained. “We both made mistakes - a lot of mistakes. But that was in the past. People change, hopefully for the better. You learn from your mistakes. And you learn that it isn’t easy to get a second chance, but it is possible.”
Gus stared at his father in disbelief. “You want a second chance? With him? Are you nuts?”
Brian smiled. “Probably. But I also know that I won’t have a second chance if I don’t try.”
“What about Garrett?” said Gus. “He’s nice. And he isn’t Justin Taylor!”
“Yes, Garrett is nice,” Brian agreed. “I like him. But I don’t love him. We’re better as friends. It’s like with Michael - I know he loves me and I love him, but we could never be in a relationship. The sexual chemistry - it’s not there.”
“So it’s all about sex with Taylor,” Gus said. “It’s always about sex with you.”
“No!” Brian snapped. “It’s not only sex, although sex is part of it. And you aren’t exactly one to talk about sex when you’ve never had it.”
“Who says I’ve never had sex?” Gus retorted.
Brian looked at his son pointedly. This was an on-going issue between them. “Well? Have you?”
Gus looked away. This was too embarrassing. “Not exactly.”
“Then don’t talk about shit you know nothing about!” Brian snapped. “Listen, I loved Justin for a long time. And, if you want to know the truth, I still love him. That doesn’t mean I didn’t love Ron, because I did. But a part of me never stopped loving Justin. I can’t explain it. How can you explain why you love someone? I certainly can’t. I never expected to fall in love with anyone. Never wanted to love anyone like that, especially not a 17-year-old virgin twink. But it happened, what can I say? When it happens to you, you’ll understand, but until then you’ll have to take my word for it.”
“You can’t love him,” Gus muttered. “He’s a jerk!”
“He’s not a jerk!” Brian replied. “You don’t know him, but when you were little, you loved him. And he loved you.”
“I did not!” Gus insisted. “Justin Taylor had nothing to do with me!”
“You’re wrong,” Brian said. “He spent time with you. I remember him feeding you your bottle and changing your diapers. He took you to the park and the diner. He taught you to draw. You used to try to say his name, but you couldn’t quite get it. ‘Dustin’ - that’s how you said it. ‘Dustin! Gus dwaw!’ And you’d grab at his pencils and paper. Don’t you remember any of that?”
“No! I don’t remember.” But Gus had a weird flash of memory. Of sitting on the floor in a big room, a large piece of paper before him. And someone drawing on the paper next to him. Of him running and someone catching him up in his arms - someone who was not his father. ‘Dustin.’
“I want you to think about what I’ve said and stop giving Justin a hard time.”
“But, I haven’t…”
Brian held up his hand. “I know you’ve been giving him the evil eye at the office and I want you to cut it out. Justin has important work to do and he doesn’t need you making things unpleasant. You might be my son, but you’re only an intern at Kinnetik. Interns are a dime a dozen, but talented artists aren’t. So don’t make me have to choose, because that would be a no-brainer.”
“You’d pick that creep over me?” Gus sputtered.
“At work, yes,” said Brian firmly. “But there’s no reason I should have to choose. This isn’t an either/or proposition. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Yeah,” said Gus. But, he thought, that doesn’t mean I have to like it.
“Good,” said Brian. “Let’s go. It’s almost dinner time.”
Gus nodded. His stomach was beginning to rumble. He was looking forward to the weekend with Brian. They wouldn’t have to think about Justin Taylor or talk about Justin Taylor anymore!
Brian revved up the Harley. That went okay, he thought. Gus should start to turn around now. He’s a smart, but he’s just a kid. I thought I knew everything when I was his age, too, but I didn’t know shit. We’ll take it one step at a time.
Brian glanced at his watch as Gus climbed on the back of the bike. Justin should have dinner ready by the time they got to the house. That would really be the test. If they got through dinner without anyone queening out, then things would be fine.
At least, he hoped they would be fine.
Brian sincerely hoped he wouldn’t end up with Jambalaya all over his face!
By Gaedhal
Pittsburgh, July 2016
“Gus, what else do you have to do this afternoon?” Brian asked.
“I’m just cleaning up Mr. Murphy’s office, Dad… I mean, Mr. Kinney.” Gus had a wastebasket in his hands. The Art Department created a lot of refuse and someone, usually the lowest intern on the totem pole, had to collect and dispose of it.
Brian raised an eyebrow. “Are you doing a good job?”
Gus considered a couple of snarky answers, but then thought better of it. It didn’t help to smart mouth to the boss, even if he was his own father. “I’m trying. Mr. Murphy told me I’m doing okay.” Yes, as long as he doesn’t find out what I was doing on my lunch hour the other day. He had to be careful about leaving the office. He wished he hadn’t had to use Sierra, or her car. She was way too skittish for serious surveillance work.
“Tell Murph that you’ll be leaving a little early this afternoon. He won’t mind - it’s Friday.”
Gus perked up. “Where am I going? Or where are we going? Someplace good?”
“You’ll see,” said Brian. “But finish your work first. Then come to my office.”
Gus buzzed through the offices like a whirlwind, emptying wastebaskets and filling two big garbage bags. The last office was Justin Taylor’s. He hesitated, but then knocked. Taylor had garbage, too, and it had to be picked up.
No response. The door was slightly ajar, so Gus pushed it and peeked inside.
Taylor wasn’t there. And his stuff - his messenger bag and portfolio and water bottle - were gone. The computer was turned off and the desk tidy. It looked like Taylor had left for an early weekend, too.
“Good riddance,” thought Gus. He paused as he picked up Taylor’s wastebasket, tempted to paw through it. No one was around, so why not? Unfortunately, Taylor’s trash was disappointingly mundane. Some discarded sketches. A candy wrapper. A coffee cup. No incriminating letters, no private memos, and no secret messages in code.
Since there was no one around, Gus decided to be bold. That’s what he had to be if he was going to find out anything important. So he tried Taylor’s desk. Shit. The drawers were locked. There must be something good inside, but what? Maybe photos. Maybe Taylor was blackmailing his dad with some kind of obscene pictures! Gus rattled the middle drawer, but it was no good, it was locked up tight.
“Gus!”
Gus was so startled he stumbled over Taylor’s chair, banging his knee. But it was only Sierra.
“Ow! Jesus! Kill me, why don’t you?”
Sierra put her hands on her hips. “What are you doing in here? Snooping?”
Gus pointed to the wastebasket. “I’m doing my job! What’s your excuse?”
Sierra tossed her head. “What’s the deal with you and Justin Taylor? I get that he and Mr. Kinney are…” She hesitated, searching for the correct way to put it. “Together. But what’s wrong with that? Julie thinks they’re hot.”
“Stop talking about my father like that!” Gus shouted.
“You better keep your voice down if you don’t want the whole office to know what you’ve been up to,” Sierra retorted. “And you better cut it out, too. People in this office like Mr. Taylor, which is more than I can say about you. They put up with you because your dad owns this company, but that doesn’t mean they like your diva behavior. I’m lucky I didn’t get fired the other day driving you around on your little spy mission. But I’m not doing it again! I mean it! And you better stay out of Mr. Taylor’s office, or I’ll tell him what you’ve been up to.”
Gus emptied Taylor’s trash into the garbage bag. “What I’m doing in here is my job. And that’s all!” He was steaming, but he couldn’t let Sierra know that she had rattled him. “So butt out.”
“I will,” Sierra sniffed. “Have a nice weekend. Oh, and by the way - Mr. Taylor keeps his desk locked, in case you’re interested.”
“I know!” Gus returned. But then he realized his mistake. “I mean, I figured.”
“Busted,” Sierra laughed as she walked back down the hall.
Gus peered out the door. Almost everyone on the floor was either out of their offices or had already left for the weekend, so nobody had heard. At least he hoped nobody had. He dragged the heavy garbage bag to the elevator and took it down to the dumpster. Finished. He only wished he could toss Justin Taylor in there, too. And Sierra. And maybe Julie for good measure. Bitches.
“I’m ready!” said Gus, presenting himself at his father’s office. Brian was slipping some folders into his leather carry-all.
“Good,” said Brian.
“Are we getting Thai for take-out?” Gus asked as they walked to the elevator.
“Um… not this evening. I thought we’d go for a ride.”
“A ride? To where?”
“You’ll see.”
They had taken the Harley to work. Gus always liked it when they rode the motorcycle. It was a thrill hurdling through the streets, clinging to his father. Brian had promised to teach him to drive the Harley - eventually. “Maybe I’ll get you a smaller bike,” he’d told him. “A Harley is a little big for you.”
“What about a dirt bike?” Gus had suggested.
“I was thinking more like a motor scooter.”
Gus had made a face. “A motor scooter! That’s not cool! A dirt bike is cool!”
But Brian had shut him down. “It’s a moot point, since you don’t have either. I thought your focus was on a car when you get your permanent license?”
“Yes! A car would be my first choice, but a motorcycle is good, too.”
His father had rolled his eyes. “Jesus! Rich brats! You’re exactly the kind of snotty douchebag whose ass I used to kick back in the day.”
“What are you smiling at?” Brian asked as he handed Gus the rider’s helmet.
“Nothing,” said Gus. “Thinking of stuff.”
“Get on the bike.”
They zoomed through the city. Pittsburgh is hilly, and going up and down those hills made Gus’s stomach lurch, but in a good way, like on a roller coaster.
Up, up, up, they climbed, until Gus felt dizzy. Finally Brian came to a stop. They were high on a ridge, overlooking the entire city. Pittsburgh, which Gus had always considered boring and ugly compared to Toronto and Los Angeles, looked awesome - the rivers converging, the stadium and ballpark, and the neighborhoods and far-away hills stretching into the distance.
“Wow!” Gus exclaimed. “Where are we?”
“Mount Washington,” said Brian. “I always enjoyed this view. Mikey and I used to come up here and sit in this very spot.” Brian sat down on a bench. “Of course, we didn’t have such stellar transportation. But the bus or the incline always worked.”
“This is so cool!” said Gus. He sat down next to his father. “I’ve never been up here.”
“Yes you have. When you were little,” Brian said. “Justin and I used to take you.”
Fuck, thought Gus. Is that why his dad brought him up here? To talk about that asshole? “I don’t want to talk about him.”
But Brian persisted. “I think we need to. And if you think Justin’s an asshole, then you have the wrong impression.”
“No, I don’t! He is an asshole! I know he is,” Gus spat. “I don’t care that you’re fucking him. I know you fuck guys and don’t care anything about them. But don’t pretend you care about Justin Taylor! You don’t! You can’t! I know you can’t! Not after what he did to you.”
Brian tried to be patient, but it was hard. Brian was not ordinarily a patient person, but one exception had always been in his relationship with Gus. Now Gus was testing that patience. He was bull-headed - as bull-headed as Brian himself. Brian felt like kicking himself for not nipping this whole Justin thing in the bud before it got out of hand. Justin was right. They all should have talked this out earlier. But it still wasn’t too late.
“Gus - listen to me. Are you listening?”
“Yeah.” Gus was sullen. “I’m listening.”
“Justin didn’t do anything to me. Relationships are difficult things and things happen while you’re in one.”
“So?”
“So, I’m saying that’s the way it was with me and Justin. And it was also the way it was with me and Ron. We had our ups and downs, especially in the early days.”
“I never saw it,” Gus insisted.
“Then you’re suffering from selective memory. Because some of our fights were knock-down-drag-out super-queen-outs. Both of us were strong personalities and that can make for trouble because we both always wanted to be right. But in the end we worked things out because…” Brian paused. This was a bitch, but necessary. “Because we loved each other.”
“I know,” said Gus, hanging his head.
“And I loved Justin, too.”
“But…”
“Don’t interrupt,” said Brian. “I loved Justin and we were together, for better and for worse, for five years. It wasn’t always easy. Justin was too young - he was only 17 when we met - and I was the one who was the asshole, if you want to know the truth. But we both had a lot to learn. We hurt each other. But that’s the key - we. He didn’t hurt me any more than I hurt him.”
“But he left you alone!” Gus replied. “I know that much. And he was mean to you!”
Brian smiled grimly. “Who told you that?”
Gus stopped, searching his memory. “I… I can’t exactly remember. Uncle Michael, maybe. Or Mrs. Horvath. Or… somebody.”
“What you heard was bits and pieces of a long story,” Brian explained. “We both made mistakes - a lot of mistakes. But that was in the past. People change, hopefully for the better. You learn from your mistakes. And you learn that it isn’t easy to get a second chance, but it is possible.”
Gus stared at his father in disbelief. “You want a second chance? With him? Are you nuts?”
Brian smiled. “Probably. But I also know that I won’t have a second chance if I don’t try.”
“What about Garrett?” said Gus. “He’s nice. And he isn’t Justin Taylor!”
“Yes, Garrett is nice,” Brian agreed. “I like him. But I don’t love him. We’re better as friends. It’s like with Michael - I know he loves me and I love him, but we could never be in a relationship. The sexual chemistry - it’s not there.”
“So it’s all about sex with Taylor,” Gus said. “It’s always about sex with you.”
“No!” Brian snapped. “It’s not only sex, although sex is part of it. And you aren’t exactly one to talk about sex when you’ve never had it.”
“Who says I’ve never had sex?” Gus retorted.
Brian looked at his son pointedly. This was an on-going issue between them. “Well? Have you?”
Gus looked away. This was too embarrassing. “Not exactly.”
“Then don’t talk about shit you know nothing about!” Brian snapped. “Listen, I loved Justin for a long time. And, if you want to know the truth, I still love him. That doesn’t mean I didn’t love Ron, because I did. But a part of me never stopped loving Justin. I can’t explain it. How can you explain why you love someone? I certainly can’t. I never expected to fall in love with anyone. Never wanted to love anyone like that, especially not a 17-year-old virgin twink. But it happened, what can I say? When it happens to you, you’ll understand, but until then you’ll have to take my word for it.”
“You can’t love him,” Gus muttered. “He’s a jerk!”
“He’s not a jerk!” Brian replied. “You don’t know him, but when you were little, you loved him. And he loved you.”
“I did not!” Gus insisted. “Justin Taylor had nothing to do with me!”
“You’re wrong,” Brian said. “He spent time with you. I remember him feeding you your bottle and changing your diapers. He took you to the park and the diner. He taught you to draw. You used to try to say his name, but you couldn’t quite get it. ‘Dustin’ - that’s how you said it. ‘Dustin! Gus dwaw!’ And you’d grab at his pencils and paper. Don’t you remember any of that?”
“No! I don’t remember.” But Gus had a weird flash of memory. Of sitting on the floor in a big room, a large piece of paper before him. And someone drawing on the paper next to him. Of him running and someone catching him up in his arms - someone who was not his father. ‘Dustin.’
“I want you to think about what I’ve said and stop giving Justin a hard time.”
“But, I haven’t…”
Brian held up his hand. “I know you’ve been giving him the evil eye at the office and I want you to cut it out. Justin has important work to do and he doesn’t need you making things unpleasant. You might be my son, but you’re only an intern at Kinnetik. Interns are a dime a dozen, but talented artists aren’t. So don’t make me have to choose, because that would be a no-brainer.”
“You’d pick that creep over me?” Gus sputtered.
“At work, yes,” said Brian firmly. “But there’s no reason I should have to choose. This isn’t an either/or proposition. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Yeah,” said Gus. But, he thought, that doesn’t mean I have to like it.
“Good,” said Brian. “Let’s go. It’s almost dinner time.”
Gus nodded. His stomach was beginning to rumble. He was looking forward to the weekend with Brian. They wouldn’t have to think about Justin Taylor or talk about Justin Taylor anymore!
Brian revved up the Harley. That went okay, he thought. Gus should start to turn around now. He’s a smart, but he’s just a kid. I thought I knew everything when I was his age, too, but I didn’t know shit. We’ll take it one step at a time.
Brian glanced at his watch as Gus climbed on the back of the bike. Justin should have dinner ready by the time they got to the house. That would really be the test. If they got through dinner without anyone queening out, then things would be fine.
At least, he hoped they would be fine.
Brian sincerely hoped he wouldn’t end up with Jambalaya all over his face!