Chapter Four
How do you fall in love? Is there really such a thing as love, or is it just an emotionally-motivated series of actions, a bunch of behaviors we commit on behalf of or because of someone, things we would not do for a stranger or even a roommate?
Is love generated from commitment, or is commitment a side-benefit of a loving relationship? Carlos contemplated all of these issues, lying in his queen-size bed in the darkness, trying to fall asleep. He recalled how much he had loved Mason Taylor and his husband Mario Garza, the two men who had been his foster parents after his own parents were deported to Venezuela when Carlos was a college student.
Mason and Mario had provided Carlos a home, security, and love, and had been generous with their resources and their love toward Carlos. He always felt like a part of their family, if indeed they had a family. Over the years, Carlos came to realize that those men had forged a family out of their boundless love for each other and their friends: Carlos, Stuart, Ross, Joaquin, and many others.
But how to create love in his own life? Is love something we create, or is it a natural consequence and expectation of being human? That was the crucial issue Carlos was facing; he actually feared the issue and was afraid he did not have any answers. He feared that he had been running away from love and its consequences all of his adult life. He got out of bed and took a couple of sleeping pills and made a mental note to call his therapist in the morning.
His therapist answered the phone in a very sleepy voice; Carlos was eager to talk but realized he had awakened Chris Martin. "Can you call me back in a while after you have had your coffee?" Carlos asked.
Chris agreed, and laughed. Carlos jumped in the shower and was getting ready to leave for the office when his cell phone rang; it was Chris of course.
"Are you awake now? I'm really sorry I woke you" Carlos said.
Yawning into the phone, Chris said "I have never been a morning person, sorry, it's not your fault, but anyway what's on your mind?"
"Oh, I have a million questions for my therapist, and so I'm wondering when you have time to see me?"
Chris chuckled; "Hmm, let's see, maybe tonight after office hours? Say any time after 7 PM?"
Carlos quickly picked up on the joke and agreed to come to Chris' office and pick him up for dinner at 7 PM; they ended the call, and Carlos drove on to his office whistling.
He never whistled; he never hummed; he rarely had music in his head. He never suffered from what Americans called an `ear worm'. The receptionist in the front lobby at his office noticed Carlos had a different look, a different stride, a different attitude; she made a mental note to ask him later what was going on in his life.
Near the end of the day, Carlos called his foster father, Mario; at first, he felt a little foolish, but then plunged ahead. "I have a question for you. How do you know if you are in love or if you are just fantasizing?"
Mario whistled into the phone; "Oh my, now that has to be the most serious question you have ever asked me. What is his name? Or her name?" He laughed.
Carlos said "Well, I'm not sure if it is serious, or if it is ever going to be, but his name is Chris Martin, and for now I would appreciate it if you could keep this quiet, just between you and me. Stuart and Raj introduced us, and I am having dinner with him tonight."
"First date?"
"Yes, I guess so, I did not think of that, yeah."
"OK, Chico, here goes: you are in love if you cannot think straight without thinking of him, or you cannot complete a sentence without getting distracted by thoughts of him, and if your day seems to drag by, the hours seem like months and years, until you get to see him again. At least, that is what happened to me."
"Really? That was what happened to you and Mason?"
Mario was silent for a moment; then he said "Yes, and I have been lucky, because after Mason died, I was alone for a long time, then it happened to me again, with Peter."
"Do you still feel that way about Peter?"
Mario quickly replied, "Oh, no, now it is very different; it is broader, it is deeper, it is less dramatic, but it is still very fulfilling and warm and wonderful and yes, in many ways, I think of Peter all day every day."
"That's really cool" Carlos said quietly.
"Are you having those feelings?"
Carlos was still quiet; he whispered "Yes."
"Good for you. When the two of you are ready, come and see us. Peter will want to approve." Laughing, Mario said goodbye and rang off.
Dinner with Chris was low-key, confidential, meet-and-greet, no strings, no professional responsibilities, no therapy, just dinner, or so Carlos thought. But of course, it was none of those things. Carlos had spent so many years fucking his way around southern California, among both men and women, that he had never taken the time to develop any feelings for anyone other than his daughter Diana.
Now he was faced with this man, this therapist, this former rent-boy twink who had enchanted him, and made him suffer all of those things Mario had outlined. Carlos had to admit to himself that he could not think straight without thinking of Chris, he could not complete a sentence without getting distracted by thoughts of him, and his day seemed to drag by, the hours seemed like months and years.
"So what was your professional concern? What questions did you have?" Chris broke the spell.
Carlos laughed, and blushed; "I confess, I just wanted to see you again, I have not been able to sleep and I have not been able to have a serious conversation with a client without being distracted by thoughts about you."
"I'm flattered that I have had that effect on you" Chris laughed. "Do you want me to prescribe some medication?"
"Hell no; I have never felt like this, so I want to see what happens next." Carlos was still blushing.
"What do you think will happen next, or put another way, what do you want to have happen next?" Chris looked directly into Carlos' eyes.
"Well, I have a pretty good idea of what serious relationships look like; I have had some great examples, my parents and Mason and Mario, and other friends. I want to see if that is where we are headed, but I think that first I need some kind of signal from you that we are on the same track."
Chris was quiet for a long moment; Carlos was fearful that he had just torpedoed any hope he might have with this man.
Finally, Chris spoke: "I am enchanted by you; I think you are gorgeous, and I loved the fabulous sex we had in Palm Springs, and I think we can find lots of reasons to have more, but I also think that you are basically a serious guy and you want, or need, a serious relationship. I do not get the impression from you that you are looking for a fuck-buddy."
Chris paused, and then continued "I do not know what your experience has been in relationships, but I think what I told you that weekend is still true: I do not want to get hurt, and I refuse to hurt you, so if we can find a way to become friends as well as lovers, then you and I are going to be on the right track."
Carlos let go of a deep breath; while Chris had been speaking, Carlos had forgotten to breathe. "Oh my God, are you OK?" Chris looked worried.
"I'm fine, now, I was afraid you were going to tell me to just take you home and drop you off and never call you again."
"Really? Well listen carefully Mr. Rivera, I have a feeling that I have the same feelings about you that you might have for me, so if you want to take me home and see what our next stage might be, let's skip dessert."
After two hours of hot, athletic, vigorous, passionate fucking, with Chris spearing Carlos' hot ass first, doggy-style, Carlos returned the favor laying on his back with the therapist kneeling over his hard, Venezuelan cock and frantically fucking himself, cumming a second time, covering Carlos' chest with his second orgasm.
"I think you may be correct, we may be on the same track" Carlos laughed.
The receptionist noted the next day that Carlos was whistling; he never whistled. He also was also wearing a new necktie.
Peter and Mario invited Carlos and Chris to have dinner with them on Sunday, at D'Urban, the restaurant Peter had built with Simon Robertson.
Chris and Carlos were both nervous; this was just like an official `meet-the-parents' kind of event. Mario and Peter were very gracious and laid-back; Simon's hospitality was over-the-top, and dinner was worthy of the Los Angeles Times food critic's best rating. Somehow Carlos and Chris passed the test, and Peter and Mario hugged them and kissed their cheeks and wished them all the best.
On Monday morning, the receptionist asked Carlos to stop for a moment; she said "What is that song you are whistling?"
"Me? I'm whistling?" Carlos could not believe her.
"Sir, you have been whistling every morning for the past two weeks. It seems like something new and wonderful is happening in your life."
Carlos blushed, something he was not happy about. That had been happening a lot.
"I actually don't know" he replied.
"It must be some thing from Mexico" she said.
"Venezuela" he corrected her.
Many Americans and many Californians believed that anyone who spoke
Spanish must be from Mexico. At the moment, Carlos did not know what they were even talking about: the song he was whistling, or the `thing from Mexico' that was making him blush.
"Amor Eterno" he continued. "It's a song from a Latino singer, Juan
Gabriel. He died last year." And he was a flaming queer, Carlos thought to himself.
And then he had another thought, which also made him blush even
more: "Amor Eterno" forever love, was it what he had been seeking, was it what he wanted with Chris Martin, was it possible? He wandered into his office suite and sat behind his desk, staring out the west-facing windows toward Hollywood.
His office, on the 30th floor of the Bank of America tower at 3rd and Hope
streets in the financial district, previously the home of Security Pacific National Bank, was where Jane Fonda and Dolly Parton had filmed "Nine to Five", the goofy comedy with Dabney Coleman.
The building had a broad view of the west side of the city. It did not have
a broad view of the things Carlos needed most: answers to the mystery his receptionist had keyed in on, the `something new and wonderful'.
The senior partner in the firm wandered by Carlos office and noticed him staring out the window; "Relaxed?" he asked nonchalantly.
"Sir?" Carlos responded.
"Oh, you just look really relaxed. I was wondering what you had on your mind."
"Trying to prioritize all of the projects I have lined up for the remainder of the year" Carlos lied. The only thing he was trying to prioritize was the place in is life where he wanted to fit the relationship with Chris Martin.
His desk phone rang; the receptionist told him it was a Dr. Martin. Carlos grabbed the phone, waving goodbye to the senior partner, who pirouetted and danced back out the door.
"Good morning" he practically shouted into the phone.
"I realize I have never called you at work, and I apologize, but there is kind of an emergency. "
"Oh my God, are you OK?" Carlos asked.
"Yes, fine, of course, I'm fine, its just that my parents are coming through the city tomorrow night and want to see me for dinner, and I thought you might want to go with me to meet them."
Carlos was breathless; meet the Governor of California, the newly-elected Vice President of the United States? And his wife? Meet the parents of the man he was currently fucking?
"Sure, sounds like a million laughs" Carlos lied for the second time in less than five minutes.
"OK, cool, dress is casual, we are meeting them at their hotel, the Beverly Wilshire, so if you want, I can swing by and pick you up at your office after work."
Chris was trying to be low-key, low-stress about this event, but it was not working. They were both up to their eyeballs in stress already, and the Martins were not even in town yet.
"And I can imagine the paparazzi, so we need to plan for that."
Shit, shit, shit, Carlos was thinking to himself. Shit. Madre de Dios.
"OK, cool, no problem." Third lie.
"Look, I'm kind of worried about this; can I see you tonight after work? Chris was pleading. "I want to talk this through with you."
"of course. Absolutely. Do you want to come to my house again?" Carlos' home was in the Oak Knoll neighborhood of Pasadena, one of the richest neighborhoods in Los Angeles county. He had acquired the house in a foreclosure sale from a bank. Its current market value was several times beyond the millions Carlos' firm billed his clients for his consulting as an engineer and architect specializing in seismic work.
"I would love to; what time?" Chris asked.
"I will be done here early, about 3, because I have to go meet with the Rose Bowl people for an hour on my way home. Let's say 7 PM?"
"I will bring the wine" Chris said as he rang off.