I've Always Loved You
Chapter 1 Mike
Author: Eric McQueen (mcqueen.richarderic@gmail.com)
Adult Readers, Sexual Situations, Sex
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Eric meets some he is attracted to, but expectations and religious pressures...he didn't act on them. Now, a horrible tragedy brings him back with the words "I need you."
Mike
As the last note faded with my voice, there was a sudden explosion of cheers, hoots, and applause. It was thunderous! Bowing, I looked out over the bodies of men. Hundreds of men. Maybe a thousand or more. The area in front of the stage was a carpet of half-naked bodies. We were on the largest cruise ship afloat. The men were young, older, thin, heavy, but all gay. Every race and group were here. Most bare-chested and hollering for more! I loved it! They were applauding me! Eric Richards! And these were my people. They came to see me. Well, mostly they were on this two weeks trip to the Caribbean. But the fact I was here only made it sweeter for them...I hoped. They seemed to like me. The atrium area had rooms stacked up on both side and the balconies had even more men hanging and cheering over the crowd of men below. It was after two in the morning and they still wanted more. I had already done an encore. But what the hell? I was on a stage put up over the Aqua-theater as there was no way to get all these guys in the ship's interior theater at once. I owed them everything, so using my foot operated computer. I started another song.
"Alright, alright, guys. One more, then I have to go to bed. There will be another show tomorrow." I smiled. "Maybe you'll remember this one." I started up the song that had been my first gold record. "Don't Blame Me." Once the beat began, these guys knew it well. Almost as much as the Weather Girls and "It's Raining Men." That was six years ago I recorded the song. The already active crowd renewed its cheer as the well-known song began. I ended it with the booming finish, bowed and waved as I went off the stage.
A lot had happened in the last ten years. But I was an entertainer. Not just a rock and roll performer. I did other people's songs, but mostly my own. I did shows. I had characters in my shows. I would be everything from Robin Hood with his Merry Men, to a Spartan, or one of the Sacred Band of Thebes. I would be a gang member in leather. A cowboy with an Indian. Whatever I could put together. And they loved me for it. Gay men were in the millions! The backstage people were congratulating me on a good performance. It's what I did. It was always my passion, only now, in the past few years it was showing real rewards. When I got back to my cabin, my laptop was beeping patiently. Sighing as I sat, wiping myself down with a towel. I knew who it was wanting my attention. Mark Hill's handsome face appeared.
"Kind of late, Baby." He said softly.
I looked at him. He was gorgeous and my promoter. Promoter, agent and a lawyer. And former lover. "It's a small price to pay to do what I love, you know that."
He was in bed. It was not even three in the morning yet. His naked chest was all that came up from the sheets. "I just want you to be careful." He warned. "You're still in danger of having another stroke."
I sighed. "It was a blood clot. I'm fine now."
He nodded. "They're already blogging about what a spectacular show it was. I saw most of it through the feed from the ship." Mark smiled.
I nodded. "Good. Well, I want to shower and get some rest. I still have two more shows before the cruise ends."
"Then can we talk?" Mark asked.
"There's nothing to talk about, Mark," I said calmly. "I don't blame you. I owe you everything. If it weren't for you, I never would have gotten this far. You are the best at what you do."
"I screwed up," Mark admitted. "It didn't mean anything."
"That's the problem!" I folded my arms. "Okay, you want to talk about it? Fine. You cheated on me. I knew that being with a guy that claims to be bisexual was a risk. When you were in bed with that woman, I was done. It wasn't even because it was a woman, it was because you cheated! Again!"
"Can't I make it up to you?"
"How?" I asked. "Our main problem is you won't commit. You are a handsome man, Mark, but I want someone that's there for me. Only me. I beg you to be my promoter and manager, but we're done romantically."
"Just give me a chance."
I reached for my computer. "Good night, Mark." And I disconnected my feed. I shook my head. "She wasn't even pretty, Mark." I got up and took the shower and went to sleep.
After the cruise was done, I flew back to my home in Fort Worth. I sighed as I came in the front door, letting a suitcase fall to the floor. I lived in a spacious duplex to which I owned both sides. Looking from the street it was a beautiful home, I lived on the right side. I worked on the left side. Three bedrooms, three and a half bathrooms, a large spacious living/great room with polished stone for the floor. A dining room and a private office and music room with piano, an eat-in kitchen. This side was done by a decorator and had the large fireplace on the left with the wall that separated the two halves. Large black leather sofa, wagon wheel coffee table over which hung the longhorn cattle chandelier made up from horns. A country western theme. Cowhide skin over the sofa. The walls were decorated with various western pieces and American Indian items. There was a saddle on display, pictures of cowboys on horseback lassoing cattle, sitting at sunset. It had been featured in some magazines to show how I lived. But most importantly, I was home.
"Hey, Stranger." A woman came in from the kitchen with a cup of coffee. She was in her late twenties, very pretty with dark red hair, so dark it was nearly black. She swore it was natural. Yeah, right.
"Hi, Della." I greeted her and plopped down on the sofa.
"Tired, huh?" She grinned. "Great reviews on the cruise. Those guys had nothing but good things to say about you." She sat beside me.
"I am exhausted." I grinned back. "But I love it, so...the good reviews tell me I done good."
She chuckled. "You did. Still gay?" She asked as our on-going joke. She put my hand on her breast.
I nodded. "Yep, nothing," I said about my reaction to her body.
"Damn." She got up and went into the other office and brought a bundle of papers and envelops. "Here's the mail. You want some coffee?"
"Sure." I nodded and looked through the mail. "How are things on the other side?" That was a recording studio. The living great room over there was for waiting and getting a recording scheduled. What was my bedroom upstairs, was the studio itself on the other side. The bedroom next to it was the control room. The third bedroom was where I kept what I used for performances, costumes, and props.
"Nothing until tomorrow. You have the Buckaroos tomorrow." She called back as she fetched me some coffee.
"Yippie," I said without enthusiasm.
"You just don't like country music." Della pointed out.
"That's not true." I defended. Then I thought. "Well...for the most part. I just don't care to perform it." I said looking over the various pieces of mail until I saw one letter that made my heart stop. It was the address and who had sent it that startled me. It had been sent a week and a half ago, while I was on the cruise. "Oh, my god." I tore the letter open and read quickly.
The letter was simple and I recognized the writing. "Sherry's dead. I could really use my friend now. Please come. Mike."
"Damn it," I said getting up quickly. "Della, do me a favor. Book me the next flight to Charleston, South Carolina. I'll need a hotel and rental car."
Della froze. "Is everything okay?"
My mind was racing. For him to ask for me, it had to be dire. "No. I need to pack."
"You haven't unpacked!" She said rising to do as I asked.
"I know." I nodded. "I've got to go. It's Mike." I pointed to the letter.
Della picked up the letter. "The Mike?" She asked. "Your Mike?"
I was taking the stairs two at a time. "He isn't my Mike, but yeah. The same Mike." I shouted back. I'd have to use a different suitcase and pack clean clothes, but that wasn't a problem.
Della read. "Damn." When she saw what he'd written. "On it."
I had been raised in Charleston, South Carolina. My best friend told me he's just lost his wife. He said he needed me, I was not going to say no.
Mike Calhoun. Was there ever someone you've met where you had a connection almost instantly? We had that. I was twenty-two years old at that time. At the beginning of a musical career. At that time I sang Contemporary Christian music. I was a member of a large Independent Baptist Church in Charleston. We boasted a membership in the thousands. But the draw for me was their young adults' group. Numbering in the hundreds, members of this group were all finished with High School, but beginning our lives as adults. College-aged and up to about thirty. The night I met Mike was a night that I had been asked to entertain. I told the elders. I did it my way. No hymns. My show, my way. Who said you could only have hymns? Even back then I was more rock and roll. But I was trying to be what I was expected to be. I loved music and wrote songs all the time. It was like I told my Mother, it was like...God was sending me these tunes and words which I had to write down. I took piano and voice and had to be forced to go out and play. I was a virgin, as I was expected to be. I was engaged to a virgin, as it was expected. Susan was pretty and a Sunday School teacher for children. I thought everything was as it was supposed to be, so after the wedding, my desire would naturally be for her. The truth was, I knew. I knew I liked men. But I fought it. Then when everyone was getting ready for the concert. He came. Mike Calhoun. He walked in, having never been there before. He was skinny. I remember looking at him and wanted him to eat, for pete's sake. Anything! He may have been skinny, but he was tall. About six feet, but may be weighted one hundred and forty pounds. Maybe. But he was gorgeous. Jet black hair and brown eyes. He was pounced on by the welcoming committee and others. I heard him tell his name to others, and then I saw her. Patricia. Dark brown hair and pretty. She was a nice girl, but she wanted one thing. He was looking a little panicked, so I walked over.
"Mike! Great you came." I greeted like he and I had known each other a while. "Good to see you!"
His eyes met mine. His smile was a little uncertain. "I heard this was the place to be. Of course, I came."
"Excuse us, Patricia," I said to her leading Mike away. Then speaking lower I added. "It looked like you were feeling like you were backed into a corner."
Mike chuckled. "Well, yes. I was." He looked back at Patricia who was speaking to my fiancé. "Who was that?"
I waved lightly to Susan, my fiancé and Patricia. "That was Patricia. And next to her is Susan, my fiancé."
Mike nodded. "Patricia sort of comes on strong."
I nodded. "She's after your swimmers."
His eyebrows rose. "My swimmers?"
"Patricia wants to be a mother," I explained. "The packaging isn't bad, but..."
Mike nodded his understanding. "Got it." Then he and I shook hands. "Mike Calhoun."
"Eric Richards," I said. "I've never seen you here before."
"I just moved here from Florida," Mike explained. "Looking to settle here."
"The last name...Calhoun? Any relation to our John C. Calhoun?"
"Who?" Mike asked.
I waved it off. "Never mind. It's not the best family tree. He was from here and well...he was vice-president."
"Oh," Mike replied. "I don't think so. Then again, I don't know a lot about my father's family. He could be."
He was two inches taller than I was at my five feet and ten inches. But I found out we were the same age, only two months apart. Then I found out he was looking for work, saw the flyer advertising our church's young adults' group on the board where he had interviewed and decided to come. He was from Miami. He had only a mother back at home there.
"So, what do you do?" Mike asked.
"I sing." I grinned.
"Professionally?"
I shrugged. "I hope to make it so."
He grinned. "Are you any good?"
"Let me know after the concert." I patted his arm. I liked him!
They should have known I was gay. All of them. No, I don't believe I had any tells. Tells? Those are giveaways that I was gay. Like tells in a poker game that tell your opponent you were bluffing. I liked sports, some. I didn't lisp or anything like that. But I was dramatic! No limp wrists. The concert was not just for young adults, but youth and adults. There were over a thousand people there. I did an hour and yes, it had the drums and beat. I had worked on a computer system where I could record any music, any instrument and have it played back. No backup players or singers. I controlled it with a piece of equipment on the floor in front of me. Heavy bass and the giant wooden cross overhead that turned as the last song was played and I had it timed so that on the last cord, the cross that had been turning was mirrored on the other side and when the lights hit it, flashed brightly. That's what I meant about being dramatic. Most of the young adults loved it, the kids in the youth group did very much. Some of the older ones just clapped lightly, but I could tell I had gone too far with them. But one person was standing and applauding as hard as he could and whistling! Mike. To me, that was the best thing. If I made him happy, that was why I did it. I had done Lazarus, The Call and climaxed it with Lord of All with that finale. And I had been moving the whole time. Drama!
"That was...." Mike came rushing over. "Amazing! I never heard church music like that!"
I chuckled loving his praise. "Well, you won't hear it on Sunday mornings."
"Seriously." Mike agreed. "That was....like a rock concert! It was awesome!"
The elders didn't agree. I told you; I had gone too far. Now, while they didn't come out and say, I was wrong. I knew I'd never be allowed to do it again. Not in this church.
Okay, back to Mike. I had lost my parents in a car accident a year before. I inherited the house and their savings and items. They had insurance, so at twenty-one, I had a nice house, paid for because that's why they got the insurance. Also on each of them. $750,000 for Dad and $500,000 for Mom. I had this four bedroom home so I asked Mike if he needed a place to stay.
"I can't afford to live here!" Mike exclaimed when he saw the house.
Dad was a psychiatrist and we lived in a house a doctor could afford. It was nice. In an upper-middle-class neighborhood. Mom had been a nurse but quit after I was born.
"How much money do you have?" I asked knowing it couldn't be much.
"A couple of thousand," Mike said. "But I haven't found work yet."
"You will," I said calmly. "And how long is that couple of thousand going to last if you pay that cheap motel rate? You can stay. I'm all alone here. It'll be nice to have someone here."
And so, he moved in. And he did find work. Manny's Tree Service. Manfred Atkins, a member of our church, was a man in his late fifties who ran a tree cutting service. They cut and cleared trees. Not very exciting, perhaps, but he made a good living. That was where we ran into trouble. Mike caught the eye of Manny's youngest daughter. Sherry. Sherry was a beauty queen. The only daughter of Manny and Wynona. Manny had been married before Wynona, so had Wynona. Manny had three children with his first wife and Wynona had two from her first husband. Manny had been former military and in his forties and married Wynona, who was in her late thirties. And surprise, here came Sherry. And she was spoiled! Wynona had orangey red hair, that red hair she passed to Sherry, only Sherry's was a darker red. But she was very pretty. She won pageants and even went to the Miss South Carolina and came runner up. But Mike caught her eye and naturally, Mike got the job. He quickly became Manny's assistant manager.
"What do you think about Sherry?" Mike asked one day.
I didn't like this. "She's a nice girl," I said cautiously. "She's the kid sister I never wanted." I joked. "But you've got Manny and Wynona in that package. Be careful."
And he wasn't. It was only a couple of years and he announced he was proposing. He asked me to be the best man.
Mike was trying to better himself. He had dropped out of high school, and I helped him get his GED. Then he started taking courses for college. Susan and I hadn't even set a date for a wedding when Mike and Sherry got married. Then I found out why. Sherry was pregnant. Still, she made a beautiful bride. And the wedding was spectacular. And I was depressed. I was in love with Mike. I knew it! I couldn't admit it, but I knew it.
I rented the room to another man. Ben Stone. He was a very handsome man. Though blond. I was not that attracted to blondes. But he had this easy confidence and charming personality. The other part of him that was easy was his sexuality. He didn't care of you were a male or female. And he had no modesty. I never did anything to my parents' bedroom, so he and I shared my bathroom. He would walk in and out naked! He was beautiful. One day, I couldn't get over how handsome he was when he looked at me with a smile.
"Want me to do something about that?" He asked pointing at my crotch. I had an erection so hard it was threatening to rip the fabric of my pants! He came to me and ran a finger over my erection, which believe it or not, grew even more! It hurt!
"I've never...never..." I stuttered.
"Had sex with a guy?" Ben asked. "Or had sex?"
"Either," I said softly.
"You've never even touched another guy's dick, have you?" He smiled. "Want to touch me? It's okay. It's more than okay, it feels wonderful. I want you to touch my dick."
To my surprise, he got an erection, too! Touching another man's cock was so....mind-blowingly intense. It was hot and soft at the same time, but firm. The adrenaline rush was almost overwhelming. I came! Right there and then in my pants! But he let me touch him again and we came together this time. We didn't have intercourse, but I couldn't deny the truth. I was gay! And it wasn't his dick I wanted to touch, but Mike's. And I wanted to do more. I hit the internet. I got all the information I could on the gay lifestyle and as much as I could about everything on religion, gays and all of it. I holed myself in for a solid month of reading and researching. At the end of the month, I could no longer lie. But I couldn't do it here. I would have to leave. Being gay was one thing, but I didn't dare do it here. Only Ben told everyone! I put the house up for sale and left. Where to? I didn't know, but away. I didn't want to tell Susan or Mike, but I left Mike a note. And hit the highway. Finally, I came to Fort Worth. It seemed nice. I had gotten on I-20 and drove until I came to that small city. Kinda like Charleston. It was when I was doing a show in Fort Worth that I met Mark. A guy owned a club and it wasn't that I needed money, I just needed to do something. He agreed to hear me and after a couple of songs, he said I should perform at his club. In that club was Mark. He had that military look, handsome, dark brown hair and chiseled features. He was six feet and three inches and built in his late thirties. Very muscular.
"You are very talented, Kid." Mark told me. "You can go far. Do you have a manager?"
"No."
"Want one?" Mark grinned as he handed me his card. "Call me when you're ready to talk."
Okay, I heard this sort of thing happened. So, I called him. He invited me to his office, where I performed a few other songs. He loved it.
"You are going to be something huge!" Mark declared. "I'll set things in motion if you're interested."
"It's all I've ever wanted. Sure." I agreed happily.
"Do you have an apartment?" Mark asked.
"Not yet. I'm staying in this long-term hotel right now." I replied. "Why me?"
Mark came over and sat by me. "Talented and good looking. You're what I've been looking for. That's what I do."
In a few weeks, he had me playing in a few night clubs. One really startled me. It was this country-western setup. Duh. Texas? So of course, it was. But they were all men! I mean, men with men. On dates! "This is a gay bar?"
Mark looked at me surprised. "Sure. You'll sell like crazy here. You're good looking and you sing well." Then he looked at me seriously. "You don't mind, do you? That they're gay." Then he moved a little closer. "I am."
No way! And that's what I said. "No way."
"Why?" Mark smiled. "Is there a problem with a man loving another man?"
I had to backpedal a little. "No, it's just was...are you sure?"
Mark laughed at that. "See for yourself." He leaned closer and pressed his lips to mine. Man, I nearly tore another hole in my pants. It was a good kiss. The best one I had gotten! I'd kissed a few girls, but this was amazing! And the only one from a man, so far.
"Oh, shit!" I muttered.
He wasn't offended at all, in fact, he laughed. "I kiss you and it's Oh, shit?" Then he looked down. "Oh. Now I understand." He chuckled again and brought my hand to his crotch. I was touching another guy's crotch! He wanted me to! He was pushing on his pants, too. "Have you never had sex with a guy?"
"No."
"Would you like to?" He asked quietly. "I'll take it easy on you."
He wanted to have sex. With me!?
"If you want," Mark added cautiously. "I'll still promote you and represent you if you say no."
"Now, how am I going to perform?" I moaned. I was shaking.
"Yeah," Mark nodded. "Sorry. We'll talk about it later."
Maybe it was the extra sexual tension. I went out and laid them out. They loved me! Mark, I had my eye on him the whole night looked at me with such pride! After the last show, he drove me home. His home. In Dallas. It was this luxury condo downtown. His whole wall was glass on one side. It had a view of downtown. I saw no personal pictures. In his office, he had pictures of the others he represented. This man had money. I turned.
"Mark, since this is my first time." I began. "I hate being ignorant, but I am. I don't know what to do. Sure, I've seen gay porn, but doing it..." I hated being pitiful, but I was! "Are you sure you want to have sex with me?"
Mark looked at me surprised. "Why not? I've proven I'm attracted to you. The fact that I will be your first is nice. I'll be gentle. Nothing kinky."
I shook my head.
Mark hugged me. "It'll be fine." Then he pulled me back a bit. "I'll show you." Then he kissed me again. More passion than before. "But the main thing is...you have to trust me."
He could have asked me for the world right now. "I trust you. I just want it to mean something."
"It will," Mark assured. "I'm giving you a part of me I don't give. I will love you, Eric. I promise."
He was gentle and kind. We went into his bedroom where he undressed. I undressed. Then we slowly made love. He let me touch what I wanted to and then he got in position. I had a raging erection as he let me touch him as I wanted. He had a beautiful body, and he had an erection the whole time which I touched many times. He even let a moan out a few times of pleasure.
"Top me," Mark said getting up and bending over.
"I've never..."
"I know." Mark nodded. "Here's what you do." And I got in the rhythm of it and I was undone! He was warm, tight and he pushed back as I entered him. When I came it was explosive. "Now, I'm going to top you." He was not a little man where his dick was. And it hurt like nothing I'd felt before. At first. He was gentle again, scissoring me first, then entering me slowly. Allowing me to adjust, then he was banging away. It quit hurting and was feeling wonderful. I felt him climax as he collapsed on me. "Damn." He gasped.
I squeezed him to me. "I'm falling for you, Mark."
Mark smiled. "I hope so." He kissed me. "I fell for you weeks ago. That's what making love does. Love." He was kissing me more tenderly but still had passion.
I woke up smelling bacon. Rolling over, I saw the other side of the bed was empty. I heard the rattling in the kitchen. Mark was in the kitchen at the stove naked, except for an apron.
"That can be dangerous," I commented to his surprise. "One spatter of grease and ouch."
"You scared me." Mark laughed. "I'm being careful, but occasionally..." he shrugged. "I was going to serve you breakfast in bed."
"As wonderful as that would be, to be served in bed by a naked man. I can eat at the table."
"Naked?" Mark asked, waggling his eyebrows.
"Why dress? We didn't use protection last night." I was worried about that. I hadn't thought to ask.
Mark nodded. "I'm clean. I have a medical report in that desk. I know you are as I'm your first. So, unless you're using IV drugs I've never seen you do."
I learned as the weeks passed. His view of love and mine were very different. He was a good man, kind and loving when we were together. He told me later he liked both men and women. When I told him I was looking for someone to love just me. He shook his head.
"That's for straights." The truth was, he didn't care what the gender was. He loved sex.
We were off and on for several years. I began writing more songs for gay men. I recorded my first gold album. I was just bursting with a song I needed to write. The Out Music Award was given to me! It was the guys here at the clubs that drove it! With "Don't Blame Me." I performed in many gay bars and clubs. Then as the first couple of years passed the demand including one in Las Vegas. I then tailored my music to the gay culture, but not exclusively. I bought the duplex and fixed it up, with the recording studio, which I needed and lucky I did. Because I woke up one morning unable to move my right side. At the hospital, I found I had a blood clot that had caused a kind of stroke. If I hadn't had the studio, I would have been done for. Mark was very attentive and was there all the time to help me. I found myself falling in love with him again. But right before the cruise, I came over to find him in bed with another young thing. A girl. As I said, gender was not important, but my faith in a relationship with him was done. I had told him that as I was getting out at the airport to board the plane. And I refused to talk about it. I had work to do.
I had left Mike a note when I left Charleston. I sent him news about the move and address. But I was surprised to have heard from Mike. And devastated about Sherry's death. I didn't get in until late, so I checked into the hotel and went the next morning.
I drove to where the address was, having never been there, I didn't know what to expect. But it was a nice house in a suburb underneath a bunch of pine trees. It was white and had those cutesy, whimsical little statues of gnomes and rabbits around. A little boy with a fishing pole in a make-believe pond. All Sherry. When I got out I heard some banging in the back, so ventured around. Ten years since we met had changed Mike. And due to his work, he was no longer skinny. What I saw was a man leaning over into the hood of an old pick up. The blue jeans were loose, but the blue t-shirt spread across a broad back. Lifting tree stumps had given him muscles. He wasn't skinny anymore. He was a hunk! The pain came back as if it never left. He was the man I loved.
"Give me the ratchet, Chet, please?" I heard Mike's voice. I watched as a little boy, about seven come to his father. He had red hair. Correct that. It was orange. Why was it always orange?
"This one?" He asked handing a tool to his father.
"That's it," Mike said. "You'll be doing this soon enough."
Chet just laughed at that.
That's when Mike did something, I heard a sudden "bang," and Mike jerked his hand back. "Crimany!" He cursed, spinning around sticking his bloodied knuckle in his mouth. "Jiminy Cricket and Mother Goose." Then his eyes came on me and he froze.
I was nervous about seeing him, but it was so good to see him. "That was a very interesting move. I could probably work it into a routine. Although, Jiminy Cricket and Mother Goose?" I knew he wasn't going to cuss with his son there. It was a habit to use words that weren't cuss words.
"You came," Mike said softly forgetting about his poor knuckle, his tone that said the even though he was seeing I was there, he didn't believe I was real.
"Of course, I came," I replied. "We were best friends. You were the only one here I kept any conversation going as to where I was. I figured if you wanted me here, knowing why I left, it was pretty important. I had to come."
Mike staggered over to me and repeated. "You came!" He grabbed me hard, hugging me to the point I almost couldn't breathe! "God, I missed you." I heard his voice break. "I am so sorry. I was an idiot. Forgive me. You do love me."
"You know I love you." But I was lost in his conversation. The way he said it was confirming something I didn't get. "Forgive you? For what?"
Now he was crying. "I should have defended you. I should never have let you leave. I should have stood up for you. I am so sorry." Then he pulled me back a little and planted a kiss on me. My god! The man was kissing me!! I will admit to not having kissed that many people, but this was not a kiss one gives a guy that's just a friend that's a guy. Then again, it wasn't the passionate kind I dreamt of. It could mean he just missed me so much. "Sherry found out that I was in love with you after she found the letter. I told you, I always was. She was going to divorce me when she had the accident. She was leaving me when she hit that tree!"
"Mike," I said cautiously but not daring to let him go. "Slow down. Too much all at once, Buddy." I smiled at him. My heart was racing. He was in love with me? He kissed me! I wiped his face of the tears. "Start over. You told Sherry what?"
Mike looked at me and his face was suddenly horrified. "Oh, God, your shirt!" He pulled my shirt out to show the grease stains. "I am sorry about that."
Keep on the subject! "It's a shirt, Mike," I said wanting him to go back to what he began saying. "I have others. Now, what are you saying?"
"The letter I sent you two or three weeks ago," Mike said. "She found it."
"What letter? The first one I opened said that Sherry was dead and you needed me, so I got on the first plane. I read no other letters."
"About two weeks before...I sent you the letter." He said. "I would have called, but I didn't know the number. Sherry found it, or a draft of it I had on the computer and flipped out. She was heading to her parents the night she hit that tree."
I shook my head. "I've been gone. I was doing a concert and then working on a cruise. I've been gone for almost a month. I haven't read a letter."
"I said in the letter, that I fell in love with you when we were living together, but you were engaged to Susan and then Sherry got pregnant and had a child...." He motioned toward the little boy who was looking very scared and upset his Dad was crying. "I was trapped! I was going to ask if there was another chance for us. I was tired of trying to make something work. She wouldn't!" He motioned back and forth to him and me. "I made such a mess of things."
"Slow down. You didn't do any more than I did." I put my hand on his shoulder and glanced at his son. "Okay. First, assure your son everything's okay. He looks a little upset."
Mike looked back as if only now remembering he was there. "Oh, it's okay, Buddy. This is Dad's friend, Eric."
Chet looked a little better. Then brightened. "Oh, yeah! In the picture!"
"Picture?" Mike asked.
"The one where he was beside you at yours and Mommy's wedding," Chet answered.
Mike nodded. "Yes! This guy is my best friend. He was best man at Mommy's and my wedding."
Not that I was worried we'd be overheard, but..."Is there somewhere we can talk?" I looked at Chet. "In private?"
Mike nodded. "Okay, let's go in." He motioned toward the house. "It will be quiet and cooler there." He pointed again to my shirt. "And I'll get you another shirt and soak that one."
"Forget the damned shirt!" I griped quietly so only Mike could hear. "I get here, you kiss me and tell me you've loved me for years and you're worried about my shirt." I shoved him lightly. "Move it, mister. We need to talk. Like yesterday!"
And suddenly it was as if we never parted.
"You're not the boss of me." Mike shot with a grin.
"Right now I am. Go! Move!"
Mike smiled at me. "I really missed you." He hugged me tightly.
I hugged him back just as tightly. "I really miss you, too."
Once inside, I was appalled. The house wasn't that big. But the furniture was too big for the rooms they had. But it was expensive. It was typical Sherry. Her parents had to have bought her that furniture because she wanted it. It was strategically placed to get around them, but too tight. There was the curio cabinet that housed dolls, Precious Moments and a huge collection of figurines. All of it said, Sherry.
"Where are you in this house!?" I asked looking at the furniture.
Mike motioned for me to follow. I went with him to what was a screened in porch that had glass now enclosing the room. I saw a chair, big screen TV and stereo. And a computer. "Here."
I looked at the small room, then back at the crowded house. "That's it?"
Mike looked embarrassed. "I had to do this myself, but yes. This is it."
I shouldn't have been surprised. I knew Sherry was selfish. But this went too far. "I had no idea."
Mike shrugged he said scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. "Why should you? You warned me several times, but I didn't listen."
I looked back to see Chet had come in the room. "Like I said. We need to talk. Can we..." I indicated his son.
Mike nodded. "Sure." He walked over and put his hand on his son. "Eric and I need to talk. Grown up stuff. Why don't you play one of your video games?"
The little boy brightened. "Really!?"
"Sure," Mike assured.
Chet raced to Mike's big screen TV and turned it on. Then pulled out the Xbox and slid the game in.
Mike came over to me again. "I bought him that...after Sherry died. Things were....a little intense for him." He explained. "For me, too."
I nodded and Mike took my arm and led me down the hall. The house had three bedrooms. One was clearly Chet's room, toys on the floor and bed loosely made as only a child could do. The other was Mike's room. Now, this room wasn't big. But it did have more of a Mike feel. The door across from it was the master bedroom. I was confused but guessed what had happened.
Mike nodded at what I saw. "Sherry and I basically broke apart two years ago." He explained. "The marriage ceased to be a marriage three years before that. The only reason I stayed in it was because of Chet."
That hurt me. "I'm sorry."
Mike shook his head. "Don't be. We were together for appearances."
"But you loved her."
Mike looked a little irritated at that. "I loved the idea of her. She gave me what I thought I wanted. Normalcy. The idea of being a white man. Middle America was attractive. Like that senator that ran for president."
Mike had been raised in a different world. The home he had in Miami was broken. His mother was always drunk, or so I was told. Mike raised himself.
"The idea of being a part of Leave It To Beaver or Mayberry was so...tempting. The Atkins, once that got used to having me around seemed to like me. At least they tolerated me."
"But they didn't know who you were." I pointed out.
"No." Mike agreed.
I knew when he told me, it would not go over well to tell the Atkins the truth. His name covered the truth. Mike was Cuban-American. Other than the black hair and brown eyes, there was nothing to give it away. His father was half white American and Cuban. His mother had been born and raised in Cuba. Thus the Miami origins. His hair and eyes could be like mine. I had black hair and brown eyes. His hair was jet black. Mine was a little lighter.
"You told me. And you were right." Mike agreed. "The fact that I speak fluent Spanish was a plus, as far as Manny was concerned. He figured I took it in high school, not raised with it. And because he couldn't speak it, he didn't know how fluent I was." Mike sat on the side of his bed. "When Manny had his heart attack five years ago. He put me at the head of his business because I could talk Mexican to the employees." He chuckled, but it wasn't funny. "To him, everyone Latino is Mexican."
I nodded. "I know." I walked over and sat by him. Only because the room as too small for a chair and it was the only choice. "Now. About this, being in love with me. Since when?"
Mike looked at me sideways, smiling. "About three weeks after I moved in. That night you made the popcorn, burned it, made some more and we stayed up all night watching Star Wars. From Episode 1 to 9! That was a great night."
"I didn't know."
"How could I tell you? You were engaged to Susan. I wasn't going to become something that could break you up!" Mike said sincerely. "And we had a great friendship. You didn't care I was Cuban. You helped me get my GED. You were so generous. We got along day one!"
I nodded. "We did." I reached over and took his hand. "But when it came out I was gay..."
"You left! Didn't say anything." Mike said a little angry. "But by then I was married with a child. I was trapped! I tried to make it work! If for no other reason than because of Chet."
"So what happened?"
His hand squeezed mine. "That night we met, you were so awesome on stage. My God! You were magic. I think I was falling then. Then as my relationship with Sherry was dying, I kept thinking about you." He chuckled. "I have everything you ever put out! But what was really great was I knew you."
"And you wrote to me?" I asked. "Told me you loved me?"
Mike nodded. "I wrote, if there was any chance we could be together to come, or I would go where you were. But I wasn't leaving Chet. Sherry was always checking the computer to see where Chet would surf to. She found the letter and blew up. The night she died, she was so angry. She took the car and was going to her parents. She swerved to miss another car that pulled in front of her and smashed into a tree on 61. One of those old ones."
I winced. Highway 61 was labeled a scenic highway, and it was. Lined on both sides with enormous oak trees. Some were hundreds of years old, all laden with Spanish moss, very picturesque. Trees hundreds of years old had survived many hurricanes. A car didn't stand a chance. "Ouch."
Mike nodded. "So, you understand. I hate that she died. But...I'm not sorry."
"And you want to be with me?" I asked. Now, I really was shaking. This had been a fantasy. Hell, Della and Mark knew how I felt about Mike! I wrote songs about Mike! The entire gay world knew about my love for Mike! They just didn't know which Mike.
"Do I have a chance?" Mike asked. "I don't even know if you have someone...."
I turned his face toward me. "There's no one else." I leaned in pressing my lips to his gently. His tongue sought entrance which I practically inhaled. His arms came around me, mine around him. Soon we were breathless, panting as we spoke. "I don't know how we can make this work, but we'll find a way."
Mike seemed to relax. "Thank god." He looked at me. "I'm in love with you, Eric."
Hearing words I heard only in dreams touched a part of me that caused me to almost melt! "Aw, Mike. I have been in love with you for so long. I dreamt you would say that." I sat suddenly and pinched myself.
Mike's eyebrow rose. "You think you're dreaming or something?"
I laughed. "Just checking."
Mike laughed as he held his arm out. "Pinch me then. To be sure."
Reality hit. "You just buried your wife!" I got up quickly.
Mike nodded. "I did."
I stood up. "This is too soon. You need time."
Mike stood beside me pointing at me. "Oh, no you don't! We've wasted ten years! I'm not waiting ten more minutes, damn it. Either we're together, or..." he didn't finish.
"I live in Fort Worth!" I said trying to get him to understand another difficulty.
"I'll move there!" Mike shouted back. "I've got to get away! This city or rather that church has poisoned us. Why were you marrying Susan? You're gay!"
"Because I was supposed to," I replied weakly. "I was trying to do the right thing. I thought it would be fine after we married."
"But you are gay!" Mike insisted.
"I didn't believe that!" I said. "I had convinced myself I wasn't."
"What happened? I heard that Ben and you..."
"Nothing happened!" I defended quickly. "Other than a jerk off session. That was when I knew I was gay! And what about you? You knock up the boss's daughter!?"
"Well...I wasn't the only one looking to be in Leave it to Beaver and Mayberry."
To confirm things in my mind. I kissed him again and didn't back away. "We were both idiots," I said sadly. "I said we were both to blame," I said. "But Chet's home is here."
Mike looked angry again. "Not if I can help it. His home is with me." He walked out of the room and came back with a small stack of books, folders, and papers. "Look at this." He handed the stack to me. "Sherry decided Chet was to be homeschooled. Look at the bullshit she was teaching my son!"
The Evolution Lies was the first book. God Makes The World. All pictures of the Creation version from the Bible. Children's pictures. There was a picture of a man beside a dinosaur in one. The other books were about math and history.
"She wouldn't allow Chet to learn about evolution." Mike urged. "And that Charleston Baptist Temple...I've got to get him away! They will ruin his life!"
They had pretty well ruined mine. I nodded. "Okay. I get it. But I'm known to be gay. I'm a performer. My audience is gay! What are Manny and Wynona going to do when it comes out your gay!" I asked. "And since when are you gay!?" I demanded.
Mike chuckled. "I just am. I like girls, but..."
I had heard this before. "Hold it! Don't give me this bisexual bullshit. If we are going to be together. We're it. I mean, no dating others."
"I'll prove it." Mike grinned. "I'll marry you."
That blew me away. "You want to marry me?"
"If you will. I'd love to be married to you." He shrugged. "We lived together for almost two years. We know we get along. Marriage is just a step further."
"But we haven't even dated!" I claimed.
Mike looked surprised at me. "We lived together for two years! All those pizza nights, bowling, movies...I'd say we have. We just left one thing out."
I nodded. "It's a pretty important thing! What if you won't like me in bed?"
Mike grinned. "What if you don't like me in bed?"
I rolled my eyes. "Are you a top or a bottom?"
"Yes." Mike smiled. "I'd prove it now, but there's a little boy in the other room that might come in any second."
This was too fast. "Okay." I sighed. "We'll find out later tonight." Then I grinned. "You've never disappointed me before with anything else. I'll risk it."
"We waited for ten years. A few more hours isn't going to kill us." He said kissing me again slowly.
A couple of weeks ago, I had broken up with Mark and was alone. Now, the man of my dreams was asking if I'd marry him. This was too unbelievable. I pinched myself again. Hard.
Mike barrel laughed at me. "You're not asleep!! Stop that!"
"I have a head injury," I concluded. "I've been in an accident and in a coma. I'm dreaming."
Mike pointed at the books on the bed. "You read the books! You can't read new things in dreams."
He was smart. And I knew what he said was true. "Boy, is Mark going to be furious at this."
Mike frowned. "Who's Mark?"
I waved the question about Mark off. "He's my manager, agent," I replied. Then I looked at Mike. I had to be honest. "And former boyfriend." Mike was going to say something, but I stopped him. "Which is why I said no to that bisexual shit. I found out he didn't care what gender you were. He liked sex. So I broke it off after he cheated the last time."
"Oh," Mike said. Then he looked confused. "He cheated? On you!?"
"Yeah." I nodded. "I want someone who is there for me. Who wants to be with me, because they like me. Not just making love. With him it was sex. I want more. The picket fence and all that."
Mike laughed. "You know I like you. We were best friends. Becoming lovers will be easy."
"This could get messy," I said honestly. "If Manny and Wynona find out...they'll try to get Chet."
"He's a Calhoun. Not an Atkins." Mike growled. "My son."
"Okay." I thought about what we should do. "We should go."
"Go where?" Mike asked.
"We'll go to my hotel," I said. "With Chet. In case someone comes here looking for you two. Then we'll decide what to do there."
Mike grinned. "So, you're saying yes?"
I approached him and pushed him back on the bed. Straddling him, I leaned in kissing him again only more passionately. "I'm saying yes to all of it. You're moving and marrying you. All of it!"
Mike flipped us, now he was leaning over me. "I will do all I can to make you as happy as you're making me." He kissed passionately. "I will never cheat on you. Never."
He felt so good! That warm body on me. "Nor will I."
Then Mike sat up sniffing himself. "I better shower." He touched my shirt. "I'll get that shirt."
I propped up on my elbows. "We're going to the hotel. I have more. You can shower there."
Mike nodded. "Okay." Then he got off me. "Chet!"
Chet came in. "Yes?"
"Grab your Ninja Turtle bag. Pack a change of clothes, pajamas...we're going to a hotel."
Chet looked uncertain. "Where?"
I got up grinning at him. I knew what would secure this. "Here, downtown. And bring a swimsuit."
"Really?" Chet asked excitedly and took off.
"Sure. We should probably take his Xbox." I suggested to Mike.
Mike nodded. "Good idea." He went out of the room and came back with a suitcase. He threw some clothes in the suitcase.
I closed the trunk of my rental as Mike locked the back door.
"I left a note." He said getting in. "In case Manny or Wynona come by."
"Do they do that?" I asked as we started out.
"Frequently," Mike growled. "Every day since the funeral."
"They check on you?"
"On him." Mike pointed to Chet. "I was just Sherry's husband. It was always Sherry. Sherry wanted to date me, she did. Her parents didn't like me, so Sherry loved me. Sherry wanted me, married me. Sherry wanted the house. She got the house."
"I said..."
"I know!" Mike said irritated. "I know. You told me so."
I grinned at him. "Well, I did. And you know it."
At the desk, I checked to see if they had a suite or rooms attached. They had a two-bedroom suite. So, I booked it. I checked out of the room I had. Chet was looking around the elegant hotel lobby in amazement.
"You're staying here?" Chet asked holding his father's hand.
"Sure." I nodded as I filled out the registration.
"We only come here at Christmas." Chet marveled.
I looked at Mike.
"They always have the Christmas Tree competition local businesses decorate trees for Christmas. The halls would be lined with them. The hotel would be decorated and there are always displays for kids." Mike rubbed the top of his son's head. "You like the Christmas Town display."
Chet nodded. "It's great! They have these trains going around this whole village of houses, stores, carolers, skaters. Even Santa on a roof." Chet explained remembering. "All this big." His thumb and finger an inch apart. "It's so beautiful. And there's music and snacks!"
"Leave it to Beaver." Mike shrugged at me.
I chuckled. "Mayberry." I nodded.
"Exactly." Mike agreed.
"Well, let's check into the room. You change into your swimsuit. We'll spend time in the pool, then we'll go to dinner somewhere nice." I said more to Chet than Mike.
Chet bounced. "Yippie!"