Even in Our Own Despite

Even in Our Own Despite

Nexis Pas (nexispas@yahoo.co.uk)

Copyright 2010 by the author

Nexis Pas asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

"She's down in the cellar now. And if it were up to me, she'd stay locked down there forever." Ryan stood in front of the closed door to the basement stairs, blockading it with his body. With his right hand, he thrust a wooden spoon red with spaghetti sauce toward Eric's chest, brandishing it like a weapon.

Eric had returned home to find Ryan in the kitchen stirring a pot on the stove. He had no sooner greeted his partner than an anguished round of barking followed by the sound of a body bumping the inside of the door to the basement answered his question of where the dog was.

"She's just a puppy."

"Your so-called puppy tore my best sweater apart. That sweater cost me $290. And now it's a pile of yarn on the bedroom floor. My bedroom floor. I told you to keep that dog out of my room."

"I'll buy you a new sweater." At the sound of Eric's voice, the puppy started howling.

"You're damned right you will. Listen to that. That fucking dog has woke me up every night the past week with her barking. Even the neighbors are complaining. I want her out of here. She's not spending another night in this house. My house, I remind you."

"You remind me often enough."

"If you don't like the reminders, you can get out too." Ryan threw the spoon into the sink. The tomato sauce splattered across its surface. He stormed down the hallway and stomped up the stairs. Each tread of his feet thundered through the house. From the floor above came the sound of a door slamming and a distant shout of "Goddamn fucking dog! My best sweater ruined."

Eric sighed. He put his coat back on and took the dog's leash off the hook by the backdoor. When he opened the door to the basement, Bean rushed out and began circling happily around him, yapping loudly. The fox terrier stood on her hind legs and pawed at his knees, asking to be picked up. Eric knelt down and petted her, trying to make her be quiet. As soon as Bean saw the leash, however, she began barking even louder.

From upstairs, Ryan shouted, "Get that damned dog out of my house." And the door slammed again.

Eric fastened the leash on Bean's collar and opened the back door. The dog went charging out, almost rolling down the steps to the yard. At the bottom, she squatted down. "At least you're becoming housebroken," Eric said to her and patted her on the head. Bean twisted her head around and grinned, her tongue lolling out. "But where am I going to put you tonight?' Bean finished and strained at the end of her leash, trying to pull Eric over to the fence that surrounded the yard so that she could sniff at it. "Don't get attached to this," Eric whispered to her. "I'm afraid this isn't going to be your kingdom. Maybe not mine either, for that matter."

When Eric opened the door to his car, Bean jumped in and hopped into the back seat. She quickly put her front paws on the window sill and began looking around, her tail wagging with excitement, as if the scene outside were totally new to her. Eric backed out the driveway and into the street. He drove for several blocks and then pulled over to consider what to do next. If Ryan were looking, he and Bean were far enough away that they couldn't be seen. After a time, he started the car again and drove to the Petco on Western Avenue. He cracked a back window to give Bean some fresh air. Before he had gone five feet, the dog had started barking. When he turned back, Bean tilted her head and gave him the "How could you be so heartless?" look. She resumed barking when she realized that he was not coming back to the car to let her out.

Confronted with a choice of dog foods, Eric opted for the most expensive brand. Bean didn't care, but Boeuf Barkoigne assuaged Eric's guilt. He added two plastic bowls for food and water to the basket and a small cushion for Bean to sleep on. When he got back to the car, a young woman was holding a small child up to the window and guiding his hand in a waving motion. Bean was running back and forth along the seat and jumping up and down in her cute puppy act. When the woman realized that it was Eric's car, she asked, "What's its name?"

When Eric told her, she began cooing to her child. "The doggie's name is Bean. Can you say Bean?" The child leaned forward in her arms and began pounding on the window glass. "Ean," he squealed.

Bean pushed her nose against the window on the other side. "Oh, look, Bean is saying hello." The child laughed happily. "I hope you don't mind." The woman spoke to Eric. "Alan was fussing, so I brought him over when I heard your dog barking. My husband and I are thinking about getting a dog, a small dog like this one, now that Alan is older. He likes dogs so much. They fascinate him."

"Unfortunately, I can't keep Bean. She needs to be with someone who can watch her all day. I think I can leave her with my sister for tonight. But tomorrow I'll have to find her a permanent home."

Bean stuck her nose to the crack in the window and sniffed. Alan stuck a cautious finger into the gap. Bean licked at it, and Alan pulled his hand back in shock and laughed with delight. He and Bean repeated the action.

The woman eyed Eric speculatively. It took very little discussion to find Bean a new home. The woman assured Eric that they had a large fenced-in yard for Bean to play in and that both she and her husband liked dogs. For his part, Eric assured her that Bean had received her first series of shots and promised to send the dog's papers. He even handed over the bag with the "starter kit." The last he saw of Bean, the dog was charging ahead at the end of its leash, sniffing at the tires of cars, as the woman tried to balance child and the shopping bag and hold on to the dog's leash.

Eric sat in the car and considered his options. He had gotten rid of Bean and had complied with Ryan's minimal requirements for his return. But the thought of spending an evening with someone determined to be aggrieved repelled him. Ryan had demonstrated his willingness to milk his discontents for days on many occasions, and Eric knew that he would have to apologize over and over before Ryan stopped complaining. Nor did spending the night at any of his friends' places appeal. He didn't want to have to explain why it was necessary. A call to his sister had yielded only the "We can't answer the phone right now" message he had recorded for her to discourage callers trying to reach single women. He finally drove past her apartment, thinking he could let himself in with the key he carried if she hadn't returned. The lights in her bedroom were on, and he rang her again. When the beep signaled that he could leave a message, he said, "Liz, this is Eric. Please pick up if you're there." The urgency in his voice must have persuaded her that she had best answer.

"What's the matter? Has something happened?"

In the background came the sound of a man's voice asking, "Who's Eric?"

"No, nothing's happened." Eric sighed inwardly. "I was just driving around and thought I might stop by. But you're busy. I'll talk to you later."

"Tomorrow," his sister said insistently. "Call me tomorrow." "Eric's my brother," he heard her say to the person with her as she hung up.

Eric stopped at the first motel with a vacancy sign. The anonymity of the motor lodge and the small room with its bland furniture and inoffensive pictures fit his mood--he didn't want anything that would trigger thought. The room smelled strongly of scented cleaning fluids, a pine forest attempting to camouflage ammonia. The small lamp beside the bed barely lit the room. He couldn't have read by it, even if he had something to read. Eric pulled the drapes and then lay down on the bed. Thirty-four and single again, he supposed. Spending the night in a cold, damp motel room with nothing but the clothes he had been wearing all day was preferable to returning to Ryan.

A convenience store on the corner provided a toothbrush, a miniature tube of toothpaste, a pack of disposal razors, and a small can of shaving cream. He didn't have the energy to get in his car again and find dinner and ended up buying a loaf of bread and a package of sliced ham encased in plastic. Beside the checkout counter was a display of candy. While waiting for the person ahead of him to finish, he gave into temptation and put a chocolate bar into his basket. After a few seconds, he added another. The girl at the cash register had blond hair dyed red in front. The dye had been combed back into her hair, tinting much of it pink. Her eyes were heavily outlined in black. Her earrings were clusters of small feathers. She wore a bright orange T-shirt with a slogan partially obscured by the smock she was wearing over it. The words "I'm only doing this" were visible. She looked over the items he was buying and smirked at the woman standing behind Eric. "This is what us professional suppliers of food and personal healthcare items call the 'suddenly by myself tonight husband's kit.' " Both of them laughed. "What's the matter? Didn't she give you time to pack?"

Her long fingernails were painted black, and many of the dozen or so rings she was wearing were so tight that the flesh bulged around them like miniature rolls of fat. She picked up the package of sliced ham by the tips of her fingers and dangled it in front of the scanner, swinging it back and forth, until the machine beeped. Eric felt a wave of revulsion sweep through him at the sight of her nails next to the pink-red ham. It had seemed something he would enjoy when he had picked it out of the cold case, but now he felt it had been fouled. His mouth flooded with memories of sour meat, its surface sticky with salty juice.

Eric blushed and stammered something. It didn't make sense even to himself. He paid for his purchases as quickly as he could and hurried from the store. The clerk said something behind his back, and the two women laughed again. Eric hurried back to the motel, almost at a run. In his mind's eye, he could see the two women leering out the window of the shop and watching him as his destination confirmed their suspicions that he was on his own. The man standing behind the check-in desk glanced at the bag as Eric walked through the lobby and seemed to reach the same conclusion as the store clerk. To Eric, his "Good evening, Sir" carried a note of derision.

Eric turned the deadbolt and pushed the chain through the slot. Canned laughter from television programs seeped through the walls. A female announcer brightly encouraged listeners to stay tuned for "more irreverent comedy from Ricky and Alan." He dropped the sack from the store on top of the table in the room and sat down in the chair without taking off his coat. After a few minutes, he stood up and turned off the light and then sat down again.

"I want you to meet someone." Alec had to lean in and shout into Eric's ear to make himself heard over the music and the shouting of the crowd. One of the dancers had just whipped off his shirt, exposing a well-developed chest, and the watchers standing next to the dance floor had erupted in whistles and shouts of encouragement.

Eric shook his head. "What? I can't hear you."

Alec cupped his hands around Eric's ear and shouted. "We're in the back room. It's quieter there. We can talk. Come on. You don't need to sit here by yourself. I've got someone I want you to meet. I'm buying a round for the table. Help me carry the drinks."

That's how Eric met Ryan, carrying a glass of beer in each hand and trying not to spill any.

"I found a waiter to help bring the drinks. This is Eric. Isn't he the best-looking man you've ever seen?" Alec's remarks were directed toward the person at the table Eric didn't know. The stranger coolly looked Eric up and down as if he were formulating a serious answer to Alec's question.

"Sit down, Alec, and stop harassing Eric." Alec's current partner stood up and took one of the glasses from Eric. "How are you doing, Eric? This is Ryan, by the way. He and I are colleagues. We both work at Tactiks."

"I'm fine, Will." Eric nodded to the stranger and held out his hand. "Nice to meet you."

Ryan continued to appraise Eric as he shook his hand. "I wouldn't say the best-looking man I've ever seen, but certainly in the top ten."

"I think Alec's question was addressed to me. He was asking me if you aren't the best-looking man I've ever seen."

"And your answer would be?"

"A polite one, of course."

Ryan laughed. "A damning answer if there ever was one. Here sit down." He slid to the next chair over and gestured to Eric to sit in the chair he had been using. As Eric sat, Ryan brushed up against him. For a few seconds their upper arms were in contact.

"Let's dance." Alec pulled Will out of his chair and led him off.

"I think we are being left alone." Ryan regarded Eric with amusement. "I suppose we're to use this opportunity to get to know each other."

"Alec likes to set people up. Including himself."

"He's done this to you before?"

"He's tried." Eric shrugged. "Many times."

"Was he successful?"

"No, but he might get lucky tonight. Cheers." Eric clicked his glass against Ryan's, stared Ryan in the eyes for a few seconds, and then looked around the room as he took a sip. "Would you like the impolite answer?"

"The impolite answer? To what? . . . Oh, you mean to Alec's question. No, I think not. The question served its purpose, didn't it?' Ryan glanced up as someone walked past the table and then followed the person with his eyes.

"Top five."

"Five?" Ryan's pretense of a lack of interest disappeared. He turned back to look at Eric.

"I don't get out much. I obviously have less exposure to handsome men than you do. I don't think I have met ten handsome men."

Ryan weighed Eric's remarks, letting equal parts of doubt and amusement show in his face. He finally decided in the affirmative and held out his right hand. "I'm Ryan Shaw, by the way."

"Eric Pastene." The two shook hands again, this time they held the grasp before letting go.

"Well, that got us past the awkward moment, didn't it? I think the next step is to exchange the short version of our life histories, isn't it? So tell me about yourself, Eric Pastene."

Alec and Will lingered on the dance floor through several numbers and then stopped to chat with some friends. By the time they arrived back at the table, Ryan and Eric knew that they would not be sleeping alone that night.

"What's Ryan like at work?" Eric shifted his chair closer to Will. He had asked Alec and Will out for a drink. Soon after they had arrived, Alec had spotted a friend he "had to talk to" and left the table, leaving Eric and Will alone. Will had followed Alec with his eyes, a resigned smile on his face. It was an awkward moment for Eric. He had seen this before--Alec moving from being unable to stop pawing the current boyfriend to dumping the guy on someone else to entertain while he went off and cruised the room. He knew Alec well enough to guess that he was in the first stages of breaking up with Will. He wondered if Alec realized it yet. To judge from Will's reaction, he already suspected that it was about to happen. Before the silence became awkward and impossible to interrupt, he brought up the subject of Ryan. He wanted to find out more about Ryan, especially the side of Ryan he didn't see. It was the reason he had asked Will and Alec out.

Will turned back to look at Eric and sipped at his drink before speaking. He set the glass down squarely in the middle of the paper coaster and then held it between his outstretched hands. He twisted it slowly back and forth with the tips of his fingers. He was in no hurry to answer Eric's question. He didn't know how the relationship between Eric and Ryan had developed, and he suspected it might not be politic to give his true opinion. Eric would not, he assumed, have asked the question if the relationship had not developed to the point where the answer might matter to him. "He's very well thought of by his team leader. He's very aggressive in securing business and very good at charming our clients and keeping them happy. That part of the job he does well. He carries the same qualities over into the office. He's a good colleague to those of us he regards as his equals or superiors. But he can be a bit impatient with those below him. When he tells them to do something, he wants it done immediately. Why do you ask?"

"He wants me to move in with him, into his house, I mean."

"You two didn't waste time. It's been what--three, four weeks?--since Alec introduced you."

"He's terrific. Everything feels so right with him. I've never been as comfortable with anyone as I am with him."

"That's great. It's wonderful to feel that way. Congratulations. Are you going to?"

"Move in with Ryan? I don't know. He wants me to get rid of everything I own. He says he already has everything we need, and his things are better than mine."

"He wants you to get rid of everything you own?' Will looked concerned. "How do you feel about that?"

"I'm not sure. I told Ryan I would put my things in storage, and then he accused me of wavering. He said if I truly loved him, I wouldn't hesitate. I would have enough confidence in our feelings for each other to get rid of my stuff because I wouldn't need it in the future. I would sell everything except my clothes and then move in."

Will reached over and briefly tapped Eric's wrist. He was unwilling to intrude further into Eric's and Ryan's lives. "Well, I'm sure you'll work it out. Alec will be pleased to know that one of his matchmaking schemes has succeeded. I hope the two of you will be happy together."

"Oh, we're happy. That's not the problem. I'm not worried about that. I guess I'm just too attached to my things. I'm making too much of it."

Will nodded and then changed the subject. Alec soon rejoined them, bringing with him someone he had just met. Alec and the newcomer did most of the talking. First Will and then Eric fell silent. Eric left a few minutes after he had finished his drink.

The evening left Eric no closer to a decision. He had hoped that Will would provide enough information to help him make up his mind. In retrospect, he didn't know why he thought that might happen. It had been foolish to expect Will to "tell all." And he had obviously picked a bad moment to ask for advice about moving in with Ryan. It was becoming clear that Will and Alec would never live together.

When he returned home after leaving the bar, he found a message from Ryan on the machine. "Love of my life, where are you? I'm in Atlanta tonight. Call me on my cell when you get back. It doesn't matter how late. I won't be able to sleep unless I hear your voice."

Ryan answered on the first ring. "Where were you? I tried three times before leaving a message." He sounded peeved.

"Hello. How did you know it was me?"

"Caller ID on my phone. You have got to buy a cell phone. I don't like being out of contact with you. And you didn't answer my question."

"I took Alec and Will out to buy them a drink."

"Why? You knew I would call. I've called every evening I've been away."

"I wanted to thank them."

"Thank them? For what?"

"For introducing us."

"Oh, well, uh, I guess that's all right then." The pleasure in Ryan's voice was audible even over the phone. "But you should have told me last night. I was worried that something might have happened to you."

"We had a meeting of the department today, and I asked Alec on the spur of the moment. He called Will, and we arranged to meet at 8:00. There wasn't any point to going back to my apartment only to go out again. So I stopped at that Chinese noodle restaurant at Washington Square in Brookline."

"The Tiantian? Why do you go to that place? It's so bad."

"I like it. Mrs. Lin at work says she and her husband go there when they want noodles, and they're from Beijing."

"Well, don't expect me to go there. It's not even clean."

"I'll reserve it for the nights you're away. Were you really worried that something might have happened to me?"

"Hmm. I had this vision of you lying in the hospital. I was about ready to start phoning the police to see if you had been in a traffic accident."

"That's not very flattering. You could have chosen something more dashing. I had been arrested by the police for being an international jewel thief and was spending the night in jail before appearing in court in the morning."

"I know you better than that. That would be totally out of character." Ryan chuckled at the notion. "How were Alec and Will?"

"I'm afraid that they're about to break up." Eric related the events of the evening.

When he finished speaking, Ryan commented, "Well, that will be a nuisance. We can hardly avoid dealing with them at work. We'll have to be careful when you move in not to have both of them in the house at the same time."

"Yes. We can manage that. It shouldn't be a problem." They chatted for a few minutes more before hanging up, but not before Ryan extracted a promise from Eric that he would be waiting by his phone the next evening for Ryan's call.

It wasn't until later that Eric realized that he had agreed to move in with Ryan. He was lying in bed, unable to sleep and reviewing the conversation in his mind. He was secretly pleased that Ryan had been worried about him. No one outside his parents had ever been that concerned about him. Ryan's momentary anger he dismissed as an indication of the depth of Ryan's concern for his well-being. He fell asleep planning their life together.

"I thought you could use this room. I've emptied the closet and the chest of drawers. If you need more hangers, we'll have to buy them." Ryan set the box he had been carrying on a chair. "You can use the bathroom across the hall. I'll use the one that's off my bedroom." Ryan bustled around pulling the drapes closed. "Oh, don't put your suitcase on the bed. I just had that quilt cleaned. I put one blanket on your bed. If you need another one, we can put it on the list of things to buy."

"I could have brought the ones I was using instead of giving them away. In any case, we can keep each other warm if necessary."

"That shouldn't be a problem. I'm looking forward to keeping you hot. Maybe we should . . ."

"Should what?"

"Test the bed. I've never actually slept on it." Ryan's left eyebrow seemed to acquire a life of its own, arching up beyond his control.

"You mean we should check if it's sturdy enough for the two of us."

"Yes, we don't want it to break in the middle of the night."

"No, that might be inconvenient."

"And this mattress might be lumpy."

"Nothing worse than a lumpy mattress."

"Yes, in the hierarchy of things you want to poke you in the rear, a lumpy mattress ranks pretty low."

"Very low."

"Hmmm. I admire a man who can undress so quickly."

"My clothes seem to melt away near you."

"Is the bed lumpy?"

"I'm not paying attention to the bed. My mind is on other things. Your firm lips among other hard objects."

"But you're a scientist. Aren't you supposed to be observant and interested in collecting data?"

"Let's see what happens when I do this."

"Ohhh."

"Let me make a note of that. Test subject exhibited immediate signs of arousal when five centigrams of pressure was applied with moistened apex and lamina of the tongue to his left papilla."

"Is this why your laboratory rats always look so happy?"

"It's one reason. Let me demonstrate some of the other reasons."

Eric found himself embracing one of the pillows and clutching it close to his chest when he woke in the morning. The other half of the bed was cold. Ryan had not joined him again. When he had headed up to bed the night before, Ryan had said that he would be along shortly, after he finished watching the television news. Later he had half-heard the shower running in Ryan's bathroom. He must have fallen asleep soon thereafter.

He pushed the pillow away. It was a poor substitute for Ryan's warm body and the feel of Ryan's soft hair against his face. Ryan had begun to absent himself from what he always called "Eric's bed" a few weeks after Eric had moved in. The first time it happened, Ryan had left in the middle of the night but rejoined him in the morning with the excuse that he hadn't been able to sleep and didn't want to disturb Eric. Gradually the absences had become more and more frequent, until now it was rare that Ryan spent the entire night with Eric.

After the first few weeks, the two of them had reverted to the sleeping habits they had followed before moving in together. Of the two, Eric was much more of a morning person and usually turned in long before Ryan. Ryan now had a reason for never joining Eric. And Ryan's reasons always placed the blame on Eric or made it seem that Ryan was doing him a favor. "You were snoring and I couldn't sleep." "You were sprawled all over the bed, and there wasn't room for me." "I didn't want to wake you. I knew you had to get up early today."

On the second morning Eric had woken up to find Ryan absent, he had gone looking for him. Ryan was asleep on his side in his bed, the covers pulled almost over his head. Eric had carefully lifted the blankets and slowly stretched his body along Ryan's and then wrapped his arms around Ryan's torso. He began kissing Ryan's neck softly.

Ryan stirred. He rolled over and snuggled in closer, trying to burrow his face into Eric's chest. He mewled in contentment. Then suddenly his body stiffened as he came fully awake. He lifted up his head and stared blankly for a few seconds, as if he couldn't remember who Eric was.

"Oh, not this morning. Let me sleep. I was up late last night." Ryan's voice betrayed his irritation. He rolled over and pulled the covers up. He curled his body in on itself, as far away from Eric as he could get in the bed.

Eric hesitated for a few seconds, uncertain what to do next, and then eased himself out of the bed trying to make as little disturbance as possible. He crept out of Ryan's bedroom quietly and then slowly closed the door.

The next time that Ryan slept in his own bed, he closed the door. A Post-it note at eye level warned "Don't wake me."

Thereafter Ryan joined Eric in bed only when he wanted sex and then left soon after they had finished. And they always met in Eric's bed, never in his. He made it clear early on that his own bedroom was off-limits to Eric. "I'm not used to sleeping with someone else. It's nothing personal, and it's not about you. It's just that I need my own space," he explained. "I just need somewhere to be by myself sometimes."

"Hey, Eric, how are you? It's been months. Where have you been hiding?" Will looked genuinely pleased to see him. He shook hands vigorously and enthusiastically. If they hadn't been in a mixed social setting organized by the president of the company Ryan and Will worked for, Eric had the impression that Will would have hugged him just as vigorously and enthusiastically.

"Oh, I'm fine. I've just been busy."

"So Ryan's been telling us. I'm sorry you had to miss Theo's party last week. It was great."

"What party?" Eric tried to remember if he had ever met someone called Theo. Whoever he was, he was well enough known to Ryan that Will expected him to be acquainted with Theo. "When was that?" From the look of surprise that suddenly crossed Will's face and was just as suddenly replaced by a bland mask of politeness, he knew that Will had just realized he had spoken out of turn. Ryan had said he had a dinner meeting on Friday and had told Eric not to wait up for him. He hadn't mentioned a Theo or a party. Ryan had returned very late that night and slept until almost noon on Saturday. That had been the only evening he had been gone long enough to attend a party. "Oh, was that the party on Friday night? Yeah, I had something with my family. I couldn't cancel."

The something with his family had been dinner with his sister, arranged at the last minute to take advantage of Ryan's absence. Ryan had quickly made it apparent that he didn't want Eric's family intruding on his life. He had sulked for hours after the first visit from Eric's sister. Ryan had barely spoken to Liz and left the room and went upstairs five minutes after her arrival. Soon the sounds of an animated phone conversation had become audible. Eric thought Ryan had to be standing at the top of the stairs and speaking loudly to be heard so clearly. He had remained in his bedroom with the door closed for several hours. When he finally emerged, he had acted surprised that Liz was no longer there. "You should have told me. If I had known, I wouldn't have shut myself away. I just wanted to give the two of you a chance to talk."

That was a harbinger of his treatment of all of Eric's friends and family. He hadn't forbidden further visits, but he became impatient if Eric had visitors or chatted for long on the phone with anyone. Eric soon grew to feel that Ryan would prefer not to be reminded that he had a life beyond their relationship. Ryan didn't welcome discussion of Eric's work, and he found excuses for avoiding all interactions with Eric's friends or family.

"Well, Ryan has been boasting about how happy the two of you are. I suppose that's why we haven't seen much of you. He wants to keep you to himself. You're still in the honeymoon stage." Will moved closer and spoke quietly. "I hate parties like this. It was a relief to see a friendly face. Let's find a spot so we can talk." He tilted his head toward a sofa in a corner of the hotel ballroom the company had hired.

When they sat down, Will stretched his legs out. "Ah, it feels good to get off my feet. I've been running around all day. How is Alec doing by the way? You don't have to answer that question if you don't want. It isn't the main reason I want to talk with you." Will spoke casually as if his question were simply idle chatter about a common acquaintance.

"He's gone through two 'Mr. Rights' since the two of you split up. He's working on the third now."

"I guess I lasted longer than average with him."

"Yes, you did. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Yeah, if you don't mind."

Eric half turned to face Will. "Not at all. What are friends for?"

The look of relief on Will's face was answer enough. For the next half-hour, he unburdened himself. It was, Eric realized, his first personal conversation with anyone since moving in with Ryan.

When Will had exhausted the subject of Alec, he asked, "Are you finding married life all that you expected?"

It was a question Eric had asked himself on many occasions, but it was the first time he had been asked it by someone else, and Will seemed to be asking out of more than just a polite desire to make conversation. Will seemed genuinely interested. He could, Eric thought, answer the question with a dishonest but enthusiastic yes and end the discussion. With most people, that is the course he would have chosen. But he found, to his surprise, that he opted for a cautious opening. He even paused before speaking to formulate a response that would allow Will to choose either to terminate this line of conversation with a platitude or dig deeper. "I've had to make a lot of adjustments. Everyone does, of course." He tried to toss the line off as if the subject mattered little to him.

Will leaned forward and looked Eric directly in the eyes as he spoke, "And are you finding the adjustments difficult?"

Will kept his gaze steady on Eric's face. Eric felt as if their eyes were locked together. "Some of them, yes. I know that Ryan does as well. We're very different people in many respects, and there have been a lot of things that we didn't discover about each other until we were living together."

"I'm not asking for details of your and Ryan's life together, and you mustn't tell me any. But I sincerely hope that you are happy in your life, Eric."

"Thanks, but why did you say that? I'm sorry, that was rude. But do I give the impression that I'm unhappy?" Now that the subject of his relationship with Ryan had been broached, Eric found himself feeling defensive. Suddenly he was having second thoughts about exposing himself.

"You haven't looked particularly happy tonight. Forgive me if I'm misinterpreting, but you didn't know about Theo's party, did you? And some of the comments you made about Alec would apply more to Ryan, at least to the Ryan I know."

"It's difficult to talk without being specific. And you're right about avoiding the details. I can't burden you with the details of my . . . I don't even know what to call them, my frustrations, my disappointments."

"Your choice of words says a lot."

The two were so involved in their conversation that the rest of the gathering receded into background noise.

"Oh, here you are. I've been looking all over for you. I'm ready to go." For a second Eric couldn't connect what was being said to him with the discussion he was having with Will. Ryan didn't bother to hide his annoyance. He was like a parent addressing a child who had wandered off.

The interruption startled both Eric and Will, but Will was the first to recover. "Oh, sorry. I've been monopolizing Eric. I've been bending his ear about my personal problems."

Ryan barely acknowledged Will. "There were some people I wanted you to meet," he said to Eric, "but it's too late now. They've already left."

"Sorry. Will and I got to talking and I didn't notice the time. I'll just get my coat and then I'll be ready. Will, give me a call. Let's get together. I always enjoy talking with you."

Ryan hardly spoke until they were in the car and halfway home. "Will is my colleague at work. I think simple loyalty to me would mean that you would not see him behind my back."

"We were just chatting. There's no reason for you to be jealous. And we weren't seeing each other behind your back. The room was full of people. We weren't doing anything that would embarrass you."

"Don't think people didn't notice that you deserted me and spent the evening with someone else. And I'm not jealous. I was just concerned that people might misinterpret your and Will's actions. You may not have to worry about what my colleagues think of me--or Will for that matter--but I do. If you don't care about me, at least think about your buddy Will."

"Since you didn't bother to introduce me to anyone and pretended as if you didn't know me, how could anyone have thought we were together? Why the hell did you insist that I go to that party if you were going to ignore me?"

"My boss and his wife like to think they're broad-minded. They invite all the domestic partners, gay or straight. He had heard that I was living with someone, and he insisted. It wouldn't have looked good if you hadn't come. That's still no excuse for you to spend the entire evening talking with Will. You could have mingled."

Eric recognized that he was about to be subjected to another lecture from Ryan on his behavior. Without thinking, he blurted out, "Sometimes I feel as if I'm alone in this relationship."

"What the fuck do you mean by that?" Ryan suddenly wrenched the car into the left lane and accelerated. He passed the car ahead of them and then cut back into right lane just as suddenly. The angry driver behind him leaned on his horn.

"I don't think you see this as a relationship. I'm just a convenient lay on those nights you feel horny." Eric folded his arms across his chest and looked out the passenger side window.

"Yeah, well, most nights my hand provides more relief than you do."

They rode in silence for a minute. Their anger shocked them both. Ryan was the first to speak. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I really didn't mean that." He took several deep breaths to calm himself down. "Look, I know I'm not the easiest person to live with. It's just that I'm not used to living with anyone. I lived by myself for ten years, and I got used to having my own way about everything, and it's hard for me to remember to consult you. But I need you. I really do. My life is so much better with you. Please, let's patch this up."

In retrospect, Eric thought, he should have left that night. He undressed and got into the motel bed. The sheets were stiff and rough, and the thin blanket provided no warmth. He curled up on his side, wrapping his arms around his chest and pulling his legs up. The noise of the TV in the next room mingled with the sound of traffic on the Pike two blocks away.

Yeah, he thought, I should have walked out that night. Instead he let Ryan persuade him that he would try to change. They had make-up sex, very good make-up sex, he admitted to himself. Ryan had stayed with him the entire night, and the next morning they had gone out for breakfast together and then drove to Cape Anne and spent the rest of the day walking on the beach. They had eaten at a clam shack in Gloucester and driven home feeling slightly drowsy and stuffed from the greasy food but more in harmony than they had been in weeks. For the next week or so, Ryan had gone out of his way to assure Eric that he valued their relationship.

But gradually the old Ryan had reasserted himself. There wasn't anything major, nothing worth arguing over, but in a hundred small ways Ryan imposed his rules and expectations. If Eric complained or got angry, Ryan would back down, apologize, and reform for a day or so. The one time that Eric had got close to walking out, Ryan broke down in tears. It was as if, Eric concluded, Ryan needed someone to dominate and panicked at the thought of losing that person. It wasn't domination in a physical sense. There were no whips or chains. It might have been easier if there had been. The roles would have been clearer then. Nor was Ryan necessarily dominant in bed. There they split the roles rather evenly. In fact the terms top and bottom held little relevance to their couplings.

The domination came instead in little things--the way that towels were to be folded, the position of the throw pillows on the sofa, the neat arraying of the cutlery in the drawer, with each spoon and fork nestled into the one below it and the blades of all the knives facing the same direction. Ryan had a way of waiting until Eric was in the room before redoing Eric's arrangements. He said nothing, but his ostentatious satisfaction at "putting things to rights" was eloquent.

Why had he stayed? Well, things weren't always so bad. He had to admit that. He mustn't exaggerate his sense of grievance. When the two of them were getting along, the relationship could be fabulous and wonderful. But there was always the undercurrent of Ryan's need to feel superior to someone else. He had to reassure himself in a hundred small ways that his taste was finer than anyone else's, that his methods of doing things were better, that he had thought through every issue with more acumen. The fact that he could criticize others and find fault was proof to him that he was superior. His demands on others for an impossible level of perfection defined according to his own conceptions were his means of reassuring himself of his own worth.

I enabled him, thought Eric. That was my mistake. I should have spoken up each time, but I went along with him and fell into his world because I didn't want to be alone. Even a bad relationship seemed better than the alternative of life alone in a small apartment, a space left sterile and impersonal because it wasn't worth the effort of making it livable. But there were nights, many nights, with Ryan in which he had felt more lonely than he had when he had lived by himself. The knowledge that another human being, your lover, was downstairs or in his own bed totally unconcerned about you was another form of loneliness and a harder one to take.

"I think I was so grateful about finally having a lover and excited about the prospect of living with someone that I didn't think about the day-to-day arrangements. It never occurred to me that we had to be friends as well as lovers."

Eric and Will sat across from each other at one of the small tables in the back room of the Tiantian Noodle Palace. In the outer room the counterman was busy taking delivery orders over the phone and dealing with the stream of takeout customers. The sizzle of food and the noise of spatulas clanging against the sides of the woks punctuated their conversation. The remains of their meal littered the tabletop, odd bits of noodle and shredded vegetables and meat stuck in the congealing sauce remaining on the plates. Each had ordered a second bottle of beer to give them an excuse to remain at the table. They had the back room to themselves, but the owner of the café would have pushed them out if he felt they had finished.

The night of his stay at the motel, Eric had been awakened early by plumbing noises and the conversations of people in the hallway as they prepared to leave. He stopped at a McDonald's to eat breakfast and then went to his office at the university. After his morning class had finished, he went back to Ryan's house. When he entered the kitchen, he found a plate of cold spaghetti and a bowl of wilted salad sitting on the table. Ryan had dished out his dinner for him and then left it. "What's the message I'm suppose to read into that?" thought Eric. Ryan cares so much for me that he wants to make sure I eat or Ryan wants to show me how much work he does for me, work that I don't fully appreciate? Probably a bit of both, he decided.

Eric went upstairs and packed his clothes and his few personal possessions. Everything that belonged to him in the house fit into the trunk of his car. He stripped the sheets off his bed and carried them and the towels in his bathroom to the basement. While they were washing, he cleaned his bedroom and the bathroom he used. He dumped the spaghetti and salad down the disposal. He rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher.

When he went to empty his trash in the garbage cans, he found the sweater that Bean had ruined. It looked far less damaged than Ryan had claimed. He pulled it out and examined it. He could find only one small snag where a loop of yarn had apparently been caught by one of Bean's claws. He didn't know anything about knitting but he was sure that it was something the dry cleaner could have repaired.

When the dryer finished, he folded the sheets and towels and stacked them in the hall closet upstairs. He tossed his set of keys in the center of the kitchen table. He knew that Ryan would complain about the way he had left the house, but he had cleaned it to his own satisfaction, and that was, for once, good enough. He thought about leaving a note, but then decided against it. There was no point in saying the obvious, and it would take too long to say what he should have said months before.

Will nodded his head. "I don't suppose the dog helped matters."

"No. That took a big argument, and Ryan only agreed to it on condition that I guarantee Bean would cause no problems. It was like a parent making a child promise that he would be responsible for feeding the hamster and cleaning its cage. The one time I insisted on having my way, and he managed to turn that into way of causing more problems. Poor Bean. I should have known better than to bring him into that house. It was asking for trouble. I didn't handle this very well, did I?"

"Truth?"

"Yes, of course. Say what you like. It can't be any worse than all the things I've said to myself the past two weeks."

"First, I should have warned you about Ryan. I didn't. I didn't think it was my place to interfere, and I couldn't be sure that it wouldn't work out between the two of you. I only know how Ryan treats people at work. I thought maybe he might treat someone he lived with better. But, yeah, you could have handled it better. We could all handle relationships better. God knows I've not been successful in mine, but if I learned anything from my time with Alec, it's that relationships aren't something that the other person does to us but something we help make happen. And it doesn't help that they all start with emotions and sex. It's too easy to think that great sex will lead to a great relationship. It's the part that comes after that that's hard." Will's mouth twisted into a brief, shy smile. "It's easy to be wise after the fact, isn't it? I know that's a counsel of perfection."

"No, it's good advice." And there's no need for you to be wary about my reactions, thought Eric. If talking with Ryan had been as easy as it is to talk with you, we wouldn't have had so many problems. "Has Ryan said anything at work?"

"No, he's not been around much. He's been down in Atlanta helping set up the new office there. He's applied for a transfer there several times. This time, it'll probably be approved."

"He never said anything to me about that. I wonder if he planned on asking me to go with him. Maybe he wanted me to walk out on him. One less problem to deal with before moving." That thought left a bitter taste. Had Ryan maneuvered him into leaving? "Well, I shouldn't be offloading this stuff on you. You still have to work with him."

"Don't worry about it. I can handle Ryan. I outrank him. He has to be polite to me. Besides, you know, I don't think it would occur to him that we would be talking." Will leaned back from the table and stared at Eric for a moment as if contemplating a course of action. "Do you want the rest of your beer? If you're still hungry, we can get something at Just Desserts in Coolidge Corner. We could walk down there. It only takes about fifteen minutes, and it's one of my favorite walks. I like the way the trees meet overhead on Beacon Street, and all the old apartment houses with the silly names."

"The Balmoral." Eric suggested one of his favorites. "That tall building with the yellow brick façade and the tarred sides and the broken lamps beside the door."

"The Windsor. All those fake turrets on the corners."

Eric liked the way Will's face lit up in delight at the absurd names. "The developer who built this section must have thought English names sounded good and no one would notice that they're attached to ordinary brick buildings. My favorite, though, is that stone building that looks like a French chateau. That's beautiful. I've always wanted to see the inside of that."

"The Stoneholm?"

"Is that what it's called?"

"Yes. It's where I live. I can show you my place if you'd like."

"I didn't know that. I knew you lived around here, but I didn't know where. Yes, I'd like to see your place."

As they waited for the light to change at Washington Square, Will said, "Alec said that I was too ordinary. I wasn't exciting. I was too quiet and boring and I didn't really know how to have fun."

"You don't have to tell me such things."

"Yes, I do. I want you to know what I'm like."

"Alec isn't the best character reference, you know. Ex-lovers often exaggerate. What else have I been doing for the past two hours? And wouldn't it be better to let me form my own opinion? Alec and I value different things."

"I hope so." The two of them smiled at each other. It wasn't until someone brushed past them that they realized the light had changed and the walk signal was lit.

As they crossed the street, Eric glanced over at Will. Will was good-looking, he decided. If he had been asked six months ago, he would have said that much without feeling at all attracted to Will. Will would have been one of the many people he found blandly good-looking but not sexy enough to cause that momentary piquing of desire that led to the next step. And Will wasn't someone you felt you knew immediately. That took time. It was as if his personality made his physical attractiveness more apparent rather than that his physical attractiveness made his personality seem better than it was. None of which explains why, Erick thought, I feel so good just to be walking beside this man.

When they reached the steps leading to the courtyard of the Stoneholm, Will pointed to the right-hand side of the building. "My unit's the one on the third floor in the front."

Eric stopped and held out a hand to keep Will from walking up the stairs. "Please, don't take this the wrong way. In fact, it's important to me that you take it the right way. But I don't think I want to see your place just yet. I want to see it, but not until . . ."

"Until what?"

"Until we're both sure that we want to see it together. I don't think I want us to be just sightseers in each other's life, but I don't know yet if we can be more. I think maybe we can, but I want to be sure of that before I intrude into your space. I want that intrusion to be special and to mean a lot. Tonight I'd just like to talk. If you're still interested in Just Desserts, we could go there. Or we could just walk around."

"I don't need more food tonight. Do you? Have you ever been to the park at the top of Summit Avenue?"

"I didn't even know there was a park there."

"It's just a small park, but it has a great view across the river. There are some benches where we can sit. It will be dark soon and the lights will start coming on. Summit's steep from this side, and it's a climb, but it's worth it."

"Let's go then."