First Love, Chapter 10
Chapter 10
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
Luke quickly looked away. They were almost out of the park. “Like what?”
“I don’t know…like I’m some boy-band singer who just agreed to take you to your prom.”
Whoops. Luke put his hands in his pockets. “It nothing. I’m…I was just impressed by your chess skills.” He smiled sheepishly, one dimple flashing. “Clearly, playing there was nothing new for you.”
Reid shrugged. “The chess world can be pretty cozy. I try to make the rounds when I’m in town.”
Luke’s smile turned teasing. “If you’d lost…would you really have let me gone home with that guy?”
Reid turned his face to look at Luke directly. “I don’t lose.”
They slowed as they reached the street.
“So…then I suppose you already know about the chess shops on Thompson Street?”
Reid gave one of his micro-smiles. “I do.”
“So…did you want to stop by?”
Reid turned left. “For a minute.”
Luke fell into step beside him. “OK. Good.” Luke kept his hands in his pockets as he walked, but his arm brushed Reid’s every few steps. They were quiet as they walked; Luke tried to limit his Reid-gazing to occasional side-glances.
They turned right onto Thompson Street. When Luke started to head for the first chess shop, Reid put his hand on Luke’s arm and motioned to a store across the street and a few doors down.
Luke paused as they reached the shop; he was captivated by row upon row of chess figures displayed behind tall glass windows. Wood, stone, glass. Traditional, abstract, whimsical. Zombies. He’d had no idea.
“Simpsons…endangered species…holy cow, Reid, have you seen all this?”
Reid waited patiently, peacefully. He wasn’t looking at the chess sets.
“Ohh yeah….Reid, I found your Christmas gift. Red Sox versus Yankees.” Luke flashed a cheeky grin.
Reid’s look could have dried oil paint.
You think I’m kidding. (And you think we won’t be together at Christmas.)
Luke continued his survey. “Lord of the Rings…Star Trek…what, no Star Wars?”
“Good. That franchise is dead to me.”
Smirking, Luke reached for the door. “Let me guess, you weren’t a fan of the new movies. Reid, you have to learn to forgive.”
Reid entered the store, his face unreadable. “Some things are unforgivable.”
Before Luke could process what he might have just stepped into, the shop clerk looked up from his paperwork.
“Hey, Reid! I thought you weren’t going to be able to make it in. I have that-”
“Hi, Colin. Yeah, thanks. Maybe you could….” Reid nodded his head toward the back of the store.
Tall, blonde, and lanky, with pierced lip and brow, the clerk stepped from the behind the counter. “Sure, no problem. You want a timer?”
Luke saw Reid shake his head. Luke had been momentarily distracted by the dark woody sights and smells of the chess shop, the shelves packed with more of the same wonders. But he had caught that last part.
He turned to Reid. “Are you going to play chess here?”
Reid’s face was carefully blank. “Yes.”
“Oh, OK. With that guy?”
“No.”
Luke lifted his eyebrows in question.
“With you.”
Luke’s head jerked back. “Wait, what? No…you don’t want to do that. Why would you want to do that?”
Reid continued to look at Luke impassively.
“Reid, you just played a Grandmaster. You just beat a Grandmaster. Obviously, your skills go deeper than I’d ever realized. I can only imagine how you must have been laughing to yourself all those times we played. Why on earth would you want to play me now?”
Reid was still, focused. “I’ve missed you.” He tilted his head slightly. “Playing with you.”
Luke had to remind himself to respond. He ducked his head and smiled half a smile. “I find that hard to believe. You said yourself I was a lousy player.”
“You were starting to improve.” Slowly, Reid began to walk toward Luke. “And frustration looks good on you.” He stopped inches from Luke. His eyes dropped to Luke’s mouth. “You pouted when you lost. I miss that pout.”
This time, Luke had to remind himself to breathe. “So what you’re really saying is that you miss beating me.”
The spark in Reid’s eyes was so intense that Luke feared for all the wood around them.
“We can try that next if you’d like.”
The floor creaked with footsteps. “Uh, Reid? It’s ready.” The clerk stood at an angle, his face averted. Luke stepped back quickly.
“Thanks, Colin.” Without looking at Luke, Reid went into the back room.
With a deep breath, Luke followed. He took in the rows of tables, mostly empty. Took in the backgammon game. Saw two silent chess games being played on thin mats with black and white plastic pieces. Saw Reid sit down in front of a…Whoa, what’s that?
The wood glowed in cream and chestnut. Oversized pieces in classic shapes waited on a thick, polished board. Luke’s fingers itched; he gently ran them along the inlaid border. He couldn’t bring himself to touch anything else.
Reid tracked Luke’s movements. He motioned to the chair across from him. “Sit.”
Gingerly, Luke positioned himself in front of the board. “This doesn’t look like mine.”
“That’s because this one isn’t a toy.”
Luke had yet to lift his eyes. “It’s beautiful.” Now he did look up. “Am I allowed to call a chess set beautiful?”
A suggestion of a smile flickered. “You’re allowed.”
Luke grinned. “You must be a celebrity here. No plastic for you.”
Reid only smiled, another flicker. “Your move.”
Luke looked at his pieces. They were the color of aged red wine. “Shouldn’t you start?”
Reid’s shrug was almost imperceptible. “It’s time to break some rules.” His eyes glinted.
It took a concerted effort for Luke to break eye contact. He looked down at his pieces. They gleamed. With a reverent touch, he skimmed his fingers over a knight. The mane, the muscles, the teeth - Luke had never seen such detail. He moved on to the rook. Fingered the top.
“Have you forgotten how to play?”
Luke lifted his hand. “Huh?” Sheepish grin. “Oh, sorry. I was just admiring.” He lifted a pawn. Was startled by the weight. “It’s heavy.”
“It’s how a chess piece is supposed to feel.”
Luke looked up through his lashes. “Guess you still have a lot to teach me.”
Reid’s expression remained blank. “Just move.”
Luke moved. The room was silent except for the rolling, scraping sounds of backgammon and the periodic slapping of chess timers. Though he had been half-expecting Reid to crush him in five moves, Luke held his own, at least for a while. Throughout the game, Reid’s attention had been increasingly focused on Luke. As if he were trying to classify a newly discovered species.
Finally, Reid spoke. “You’ve been practicing.”
Luke’s grin was slightly sly, slightly shy. “Now and then. Online.” It made me feel closer to you.
Luke noticed that the shuffling of the backgammon game had stopped. Looking over, he saw that the other chess players had paused their play as well. Were looking at him.
No.
Noo.
“It made me feel closer to you.”
I did not just say that out loud.
With a half-formed prayer, Luke turned toward Reid. One look at Reid’s face, and Luke’s heart dropped into his stomach, out the bottom of his chair, through the basement, and onto the subway tracks below. It was as if Reid’s face had been flash-frozen. In mid-gape. Luke found himself focusing on Reid’s eyelids. He hasn’t even blinked.
Reid blinked. Closed his mouth. Advanced his bishop. “Your move.”
That’s it? That’s all the reaction I get?
The backgammon dice rolled again. Beyond flustered, Luke exposed his king.
“Checkmate.” With exceptional speed, Reid stood and walked back into the main room. Luke stayed in his chair, collecting himself. It's OK...I’m glad he knows. He should know.
Before Luke could stand, Reid returned with Colin, who was carrying a tote bag and wooden box in the same rich color as Luke’s chessmen. Colin began to pack the chess set.
“So, the sustainable rosewood is usually with boxwood, but I managed to find it with maple. You’re sure you want the maple?”
Reid aimed a lambent look at Luke. That slid down to his chest. “I’m sure.”
Wait, is Reid buying this? And what’s so special about maple…ohh. No, couldn’t be. Too sentimental. Not Reid.
Colin filled the tote bag and handed it to Reid. “It’s a great set.”
Still a bit at sea, Luke focused on the way Colin’s piercings shifted when he smiled. Colin returned to the main room and ducked behind the counter. “Too bad we can’t all make your kind of money. Come back any time, Reid.”
With a stiff nod and smile, Reid held the door for Luke. Luke squinted in the sunlight. They stood on the sidewalk, silent. Moments passed. Reid readjusted the bag.
“So where have you planned to take me next?”
Startled, Luke looked at Reid. Just like that, Easy Reid was back, the Reid of the park. Well, as easy as Reid got. Luke gathered his thoughts. Remembered his plan.
“Hungry yet?”
The fire banked. “Always.”
Luke grinned sunnily. “So let’s get a cab.”
They began to walk to the cross street. Reid lifted the bag, switching hands.
“Here.” He stretched it toward Luke. “You might as well carry this.”
Luke cocked a brow. “Why? Is it damaging your precious hands?”
Reid continued to hold the bag calmly. “No…because it’s yours.”
Luke stopped walking. Shook his head. “What are you talking about? You just bought that.”
Reid began to speak with exaggerated patience, as if to a child. Or an intern. “Right…for you.”
For the umpteenth time in less than 24 hours, Luke was thrown. “No…but…why would you…” Blindly groping, Luke couldn’t even find the horse to climb back on. “I already have a chess set.”
Reid’s look was bone dry. Desert dry. “You’re a big boy now. You need a real one. This is a real one.” The bag waggled.
Still stunned, still uncertain, Luke took the bag. Unseeing, he opened it and looked in. “But…it must have been expensive.”
Reid began to walk. “I may not have trust-fund money, but I do alright. It didn’t break me.”
Luke heard that. Tried not to dwell. Settled on continuing to be overwhelmed.
“Reid, I…thank you.”
Reid nodded. Waved his arm. When a cab pulled over, he opened the door and looked at Luke expectantly.
“What? Oh.” Luke slid into the cab and leaned forward. “77th and Columbus, please.”
Reid looked at Luke suspiciously. “Nothing fancy. No candles.”
Luke smiled innocently. “No candles.”
__________________________________________________
The cab inched through Columbus Circle. Luke looked out the window at the southern edge of Central Park. The tote bag sat on the seat between them.
“So…Reid…when did you order it?”
Reid continued looking out his window. “Hmm?”
“The chess set. When did you order it?
Reid started to turn toward Luke, but something outside seemed to catch his eye. “Uh…before we left. I called.”
“Oh.” A niggling thought had been planted. Had taken root. Had begun to wrap around Luke’s slender sapling of happiness like a vine, threatening to choke the life out of it. “Then…you were planning to go to that shop all along?”
Reid finally looked at Luke but his focus was still elsewhere. “What? No. Not until you took me to the park.”
“Really?” Luke frowned. “So how were you going to pick it up?”
“I wasn’t.” Reid was looking out the window again.
“Oh.” The vine made another turn. Tightened. “Then how were you going to give it to me?”
Even from the back, it was clear that Reid was finally present. He slowly faced forward.
“I was going to have Colin send it to you.”
Luke was Reid-still. “In Oakdale.”
“In Oakdale.”
Luke’s voice was calm. “And were you going to have it inscribed ‘thanks for the fuck’?”
Reid glanced at the cab driver, who was moving his head in time to a West African beat. Reid pinched the bridge of his nose. “I was hoping that you’d use it. That you’d like it.”
“That I’d look at it and remember you fondly? As a memento of our time together?” Luke looked down at his clasped hands. His voice dropped. “Were you ever planning on seeing me again?”
Reid dropped his head as if weary. Luke could feel the bag growing larger on the seat, separating them further.
“You do not want to have this conversation now.”
Luke’s voice strengthened. “OK, Reid, when? After dinner? When we get back to the hotel? After you’ve flown back to Boston? Is that what you’ve been planning?” Luke’s simmering anger was keeping the tears at bay. “That we’d part like adults? That I wouldn’t cause a scene?”
Reid had retreated into blankness. “Yes. I’d hoped that we could deal with this like adults. That you’d finally grown up.”
Luke closed his eyes. “I thought adults dealt with their issues. That they didn’t run away.”
Reid turned his head sharply. “You think I’m running away? That I ran away then? Luke.” The name sliced. “It’s called dealing with the reality of the situation. It’s called cutting your losses and moving on.”
Luke looked at Reid with hard, sad eyes. “So you can move on. You’ve moved on. Great. Good for you. Well, I haven’t. I can’t.” And then he looked harder, more deeply. “You know I haven’t.” He quickly turned back to the window. Quietly: “And I don’t want to.”
The frustration roiling inside Luke was a tangible thing, a taste-able, touchable thing. He knew Reid was lying to himself, to Luke. (Only love.) But Luke couldn’t see the way in. He knew he’d made progress - the walls were chipped, the turrets tumbling - but Luke had yet to breach the main defense.
Meanwhile, Reid looked at the back of Luke’s head. Just looked. Had Luke been facing him, he would have seen the infinite sadness, the unprocessed grief. The regret. But Luke wasn’t facing him. Reid turned back to his window. The silence was a weight on both of them.
The traffic was moving now. The cab was passing Lincoln Center.
“The Met’s doing Turandot.”
Luke turned his head to see Reid pointing to a banner.
Luke surreptitiously wiped his face. “Oh, so opera would have been OK?” A weak smile struggled to take shape. “So you’re that gay?”
Reid continued to look out the window. He may have smiled. “In general, no. But I always liked that Turandot was pretty much the only dramatic opera that ended happily. The comedic ones were always too prance-y for my taste. I prefer some angst with my singing.”
Luke spoke softly. “I remember Turandot…Damian liked opera. Something about a guy who had to jump through hoops for the love of a princess. Or else die. Fun stuff.”
Reid was silent for a moment. “Yeah, but then Pavarotti sang that song into the ground. Kinda killed it for me.”
The car became quiet again, and Luke slipped back into his memories. He had remembered more than he’d said; he remembered listening to the opera with Damian, one of the happy memories. He remembered Damian telling him about the three riddles that the suitor in the opera had to solve or else be beheaded. He remembered the third in particular: “What is like ice, but burns like fire?” He remembered that the answer was Turandot, the princess. The one the suitor loved.
He also remembered the first riddle: “What is born each night and dies each dawn?” He smiled bitterly to himself. Hope. You think my hope is going to die with the dawn, don’t you? It’s what you’re counting on.
Luke’s reverie was interrupted by Reid’s voice.
“I wanted you to have something beautiful. Something worthy of you. And so you wouldn’t forget me. That’s why I bought it.”
Luke turned to see Reid still looking out the window on his side of the cab. Slowly, haltingly, Luke reached out. Touched Reid’s hand. Passed his thumb over the back of Reid’s hand once, twice. Lifted it. Gently placed it on top of the tote bag between them and covered it warmly, completely with his own. Turned back to his window.
The dawn isn’t here yet. I still have the night.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
Luke quickly looked away. They were almost out of the park. “Like what?”
“I don’t know…like I’m some boy-band singer who just agreed to take you to your prom.”
Whoops. Luke put his hands in his pockets. “It nothing. I’m…I was just impressed by your chess skills.” He smiled sheepishly, one dimple flashing. “Clearly, playing there was nothing new for you.”
Reid shrugged. “The chess world can be pretty cozy. I try to make the rounds when I’m in town.”
Luke’s smile turned teasing. “If you’d lost…would you really have let me gone home with that guy?”
Reid turned his face to look at Luke directly. “I don’t lose.”
They slowed as they reached the street.
“So…then I suppose you already know about the chess shops on Thompson Street?”
Reid gave one of his micro-smiles. “I do.”
“So…did you want to stop by?”
Reid turned left. “For a minute.”
Luke fell into step beside him. “OK. Good.” Luke kept his hands in his pockets as he walked, but his arm brushed Reid’s every few steps. They were quiet as they walked; Luke tried to limit his Reid-gazing to occasional side-glances.
They turned right onto Thompson Street. When Luke started to head for the first chess shop, Reid put his hand on Luke’s arm and motioned to a store across the street and a few doors down.
Luke paused as they reached the shop; he was captivated by row upon row of chess figures displayed behind tall glass windows. Wood, stone, glass. Traditional, abstract, whimsical. Zombies. He’d had no idea.
“Simpsons…endangered species…holy cow, Reid, have you seen all this?”
Reid waited patiently, peacefully. He wasn’t looking at the chess sets.
“Ohh yeah….Reid, I found your Christmas gift. Red Sox versus Yankees.” Luke flashed a cheeky grin.
Reid’s look could have dried oil paint.
You think I’m kidding. (And you think we won’t be together at Christmas.)
Luke continued his survey. “Lord of the Rings…Star Trek…what, no Star Wars?”
“Good. That franchise is dead to me.”
Smirking, Luke reached for the door. “Let me guess, you weren’t a fan of the new movies. Reid, you have to learn to forgive.”
Reid entered the store, his face unreadable. “Some things are unforgivable.”
Before Luke could process what he might have just stepped into, the shop clerk looked up from his paperwork.
“Hey, Reid! I thought you weren’t going to be able to make it in. I have that-”
“Hi, Colin. Yeah, thanks. Maybe you could….” Reid nodded his head toward the back of the store.
Tall, blonde, and lanky, with pierced lip and brow, the clerk stepped from the behind the counter. “Sure, no problem. You want a timer?”
Luke saw Reid shake his head. Luke had been momentarily distracted by the dark woody sights and smells of the chess shop, the shelves packed with more of the same wonders. But he had caught that last part.
He turned to Reid. “Are you going to play chess here?”
Reid’s face was carefully blank. “Yes.”
“Oh, OK. With that guy?”
“No.”
Luke lifted his eyebrows in question.
“With you.”
Luke’s head jerked back. “Wait, what? No…you don’t want to do that. Why would you want to do that?”
Reid continued to look at Luke impassively.
“Reid, you just played a Grandmaster. You just beat a Grandmaster. Obviously, your skills go deeper than I’d ever realized. I can only imagine how you must have been laughing to yourself all those times we played. Why on earth would you want to play me now?”
Reid was still, focused. “I’ve missed you.” He tilted his head slightly. “Playing with you.”
Luke had to remind himself to respond. He ducked his head and smiled half a smile. “I find that hard to believe. You said yourself I was a lousy player.”
“You were starting to improve.” Slowly, Reid began to walk toward Luke. “And frustration looks good on you.” He stopped inches from Luke. His eyes dropped to Luke’s mouth. “You pouted when you lost. I miss that pout.”
This time, Luke had to remind himself to breathe. “So what you’re really saying is that you miss beating me.”
The spark in Reid’s eyes was so intense that Luke feared for all the wood around them.
“We can try that next if you’d like.”
The floor creaked with footsteps. “Uh, Reid? It’s ready.” The clerk stood at an angle, his face averted. Luke stepped back quickly.
“Thanks, Colin.” Without looking at Luke, Reid went into the back room.
With a deep breath, Luke followed. He took in the rows of tables, mostly empty. Took in the backgammon game. Saw two silent chess games being played on thin mats with black and white plastic pieces. Saw Reid sit down in front of a…Whoa, what’s that?
The wood glowed in cream and chestnut. Oversized pieces in classic shapes waited on a thick, polished board. Luke’s fingers itched; he gently ran them along the inlaid border. He couldn’t bring himself to touch anything else.
Reid tracked Luke’s movements. He motioned to the chair across from him. “Sit.”
Gingerly, Luke positioned himself in front of the board. “This doesn’t look like mine.”
“That’s because this one isn’t a toy.”
Luke had yet to lift his eyes. “It’s beautiful.” Now he did look up. “Am I allowed to call a chess set beautiful?”
A suggestion of a smile flickered. “You’re allowed.”
Luke grinned. “You must be a celebrity here. No plastic for you.”
Reid only smiled, another flicker. “Your move.”
Luke looked at his pieces. They were the color of aged red wine. “Shouldn’t you start?”
Reid’s shrug was almost imperceptible. “It’s time to break some rules.” His eyes glinted.
It took a concerted effort for Luke to break eye contact. He looked down at his pieces. They gleamed. With a reverent touch, he skimmed his fingers over a knight. The mane, the muscles, the teeth - Luke had never seen such detail. He moved on to the rook. Fingered the top.
“Have you forgotten how to play?”
Luke lifted his hand. “Huh?” Sheepish grin. “Oh, sorry. I was just admiring.” He lifted a pawn. Was startled by the weight. “It’s heavy.”
“It’s how a chess piece is supposed to feel.”
Luke looked up through his lashes. “Guess you still have a lot to teach me.”
Reid’s expression remained blank. “Just move.”
Luke moved. The room was silent except for the rolling, scraping sounds of backgammon and the periodic slapping of chess timers. Though he had been half-expecting Reid to crush him in five moves, Luke held his own, at least for a while. Throughout the game, Reid’s attention had been increasingly focused on Luke. As if he were trying to classify a newly discovered species.
Finally, Reid spoke. “You’ve been practicing.”
Luke’s grin was slightly sly, slightly shy. “Now and then. Online.” It made me feel closer to you.
Luke noticed that the shuffling of the backgammon game had stopped. Looking over, he saw that the other chess players had paused their play as well. Were looking at him.
No.
Noo.
“It made me feel closer to you.”
I did not just say that out loud.
With a half-formed prayer, Luke turned toward Reid. One look at Reid’s face, and Luke’s heart dropped into his stomach, out the bottom of his chair, through the basement, and onto the subway tracks below. It was as if Reid’s face had been flash-frozen. In mid-gape. Luke found himself focusing on Reid’s eyelids. He hasn’t even blinked.
Reid blinked. Closed his mouth. Advanced his bishop. “Your move.”
That’s it? That’s all the reaction I get?
The backgammon dice rolled again. Beyond flustered, Luke exposed his king.
“Checkmate.” With exceptional speed, Reid stood and walked back into the main room. Luke stayed in his chair, collecting himself. It's OK...I’m glad he knows. He should know.
Before Luke could stand, Reid returned with Colin, who was carrying a tote bag and wooden box in the same rich color as Luke’s chessmen. Colin began to pack the chess set.
“So, the sustainable rosewood is usually with boxwood, but I managed to find it with maple. You’re sure you want the maple?”
Reid aimed a lambent look at Luke. That slid down to his chest. “I’m sure.”
Wait, is Reid buying this? And what’s so special about maple…ohh. No, couldn’t be. Too sentimental. Not Reid.
Colin filled the tote bag and handed it to Reid. “It’s a great set.”
Still a bit at sea, Luke focused on the way Colin’s piercings shifted when he smiled. Colin returned to the main room and ducked behind the counter. “Too bad we can’t all make your kind of money. Come back any time, Reid.”
With a stiff nod and smile, Reid held the door for Luke. Luke squinted in the sunlight. They stood on the sidewalk, silent. Moments passed. Reid readjusted the bag.
“So where have you planned to take me next?”
Startled, Luke looked at Reid. Just like that, Easy Reid was back, the Reid of the park. Well, as easy as Reid got. Luke gathered his thoughts. Remembered his plan.
“Hungry yet?”
The fire banked. “Always.”
Luke grinned sunnily. “So let’s get a cab.”
They began to walk to the cross street. Reid lifted the bag, switching hands.
“Here.” He stretched it toward Luke. “You might as well carry this.”
Luke cocked a brow. “Why? Is it damaging your precious hands?”
Reid continued to hold the bag calmly. “No…because it’s yours.”
Luke stopped walking. Shook his head. “What are you talking about? You just bought that.”
Reid began to speak with exaggerated patience, as if to a child. Or an intern. “Right…for you.”
For the umpteenth time in less than 24 hours, Luke was thrown. “No…but…why would you…” Blindly groping, Luke couldn’t even find the horse to climb back on. “I already have a chess set.”
Reid’s look was bone dry. Desert dry. “You’re a big boy now. You need a real one. This is a real one.” The bag waggled.
Still stunned, still uncertain, Luke took the bag. Unseeing, he opened it and looked in. “But…it must have been expensive.”
Reid began to walk. “I may not have trust-fund money, but I do alright. It didn’t break me.”
Luke heard that. Tried not to dwell. Settled on continuing to be overwhelmed.
“Reid, I…thank you.”
Reid nodded. Waved his arm. When a cab pulled over, he opened the door and looked at Luke expectantly.
“What? Oh.” Luke slid into the cab and leaned forward. “77th and Columbus, please.”
Reid looked at Luke suspiciously. “Nothing fancy. No candles.”
Luke smiled innocently. “No candles.”
__________________________________________________
The cab inched through Columbus Circle. Luke looked out the window at the southern edge of Central Park. The tote bag sat on the seat between them.
“So…Reid…when did you order it?”
Reid continued looking out his window. “Hmm?”
“The chess set. When did you order it?
Reid started to turn toward Luke, but something outside seemed to catch his eye. “Uh…before we left. I called.”
“Oh.” A niggling thought had been planted. Had taken root. Had begun to wrap around Luke’s slender sapling of happiness like a vine, threatening to choke the life out of it. “Then…you were planning to go to that shop all along?”
Reid finally looked at Luke but his focus was still elsewhere. “What? No. Not until you took me to the park.”
“Really?” Luke frowned. “So how were you going to pick it up?”
“I wasn’t.” Reid was looking out the window again.
“Oh.” The vine made another turn. Tightened. “Then how were you going to give it to me?”
Even from the back, it was clear that Reid was finally present. He slowly faced forward.
“I was going to have Colin send it to you.”
Luke was Reid-still. “In Oakdale.”
“In Oakdale.”
Luke’s voice was calm. “And were you going to have it inscribed ‘thanks for the fuck’?”
Reid glanced at the cab driver, who was moving his head in time to a West African beat. Reid pinched the bridge of his nose. “I was hoping that you’d use it. That you’d like it.”
“That I’d look at it and remember you fondly? As a memento of our time together?” Luke looked down at his clasped hands. His voice dropped. “Were you ever planning on seeing me again?”
Reid dropped his head as if weary. Luke could feel the bag growing larger on the seat, separating them further.
“You do not want to have this conversation now.”
Luke’s voice strengthened. “OK, Reid, when? After dinner? When we get back to the hotel? After you’ve flown back to Boston? Is that what you’ve been planning?” Luke’s simmering anger was keeping the tears at bay. “That we’d part like adults? That I wouldn’t cause a scene?”
Reid had retreated into blankness. “Yes. I’d hoped that we could deal with this like adults. That you’d finally grown up.”
Luke closed his eyes. “I thought adults dealt with their issues. That they didn’t run away.”
Reid turned his head sharply. “You think I’m running away? That I ran away then? Luke.” The name sliced. “It’s called dealing with the reality of the situation. It’s called cutting your losses and moving on.”
Luke looked at Reid with hard, sad eyes. “So you can move on. You’ve moved on. Great. Good for you. Well, I haven’t. I can’t.” And then he looked harder, more deeply. “You know I haven’t.” He quickly turned back to the window. Quietly: “And I don’t want to.”
The frustration roiling inside Luke was a tangible thing, a taste-able, touchable thing. He knew Reid was lying to himself, to Luke. (Only love.) But Luke couldn’t see the way in. He knew he’d made progress - the walls were chipped, the turrets tumbling - but Luke had yet to breach the main defense.
Meanwhile, Reid looked at the back of Luke’s head. Just looked. Had Luke been facing him, he would have seen the infinite sadness, the unprocessed grief. The regret. But Luke wasn’t facing him. Reid turned back to his window. The silence was a weight on both of them.
The traffic was moving now. The cab was passing Lincoln Center.
“The Met’s doing Turandot.”
Luke turned his head to see Reid pointing to a banner.
Luke surreptitiously wiped his face. “Oh, so opera would have been OK?” A weak smile struggled to take shape. “So you’re that gay?”
Reid continued to look out the window. He may have smiled. “In general, no. But I always liked that Turandot was pretty much the only dramatic opera that ended happily. The comedic ones were always too prance-y for my taste. I prefer some angst with my singing.”
Luke spoke softly. “I remember Turandot…Damian liked opera. Something about a guy who had to jump through hoops for the love of a princess. Or else die. Fun stuff.”
Reid was silent for a moment. “Yeah, but then Pavarotti sang that song into the ground. Kinda killed it for me.”
The car became quiet again, and Luke slipped back into his memories. He had remembered more than he’d said; he remembered listening to the opera with Damian, one of the happy memories. He remembered Damian telling him about the three riddles that the suitor in the opera had to solve or else be beheaded. He remembered the third in particular: “What is like ice, but burns like fire?” He remembered that the answer was Turandot, the princess. The one the suitor loved.
He also remembered the first riddle: “What is born each night and dies each dawn?” He smiled bitterly to himself. Hope. You think my hope is going to die with the dawn, don’t you? It’s what you’re counting on.
Luke’s reverie was interrupted by Reid’s voice.
“I wanted you to have something beautiful. Something worthy of you. And so you wouldn’t forget me. That’s why I bought it.”
Luke turned to see Reid still looking out the window on his side of the cab. Slowly, haltingly, Luke reached out. Touched Reid’s hand. Passed his thumb over the back of Reid’s hand once, twice. Lifted it. Gently placed it on top of the tote bag between them and covered it warmly, completely with his own. Turned back to his window.
The dawn isn’t here yet. I still have the night.