CHAPTER 33 #2
He didn’t know Anthony planned to wear a dress. Cameron’s stomach sank. This wasn’t good. For their friendship or Anthony’s safety. How was Cameron supposed to leave town when Omar was clueless about how much danger his best friend was in? Something had to change. And he knew what.
“I really appreciate your help,” he said. “Why don’t you let me take you out to lunch?”
“That’s all right,” Omar said. “You don’t owe me anything. This was fun!”
“Yeah, but I’d like to thank you. That, and I’m hungry. Name the place.”
Omar perked up. “I have been craving barbecue lately.”
“Perfect! Let’s go.” Cameron would drive them downtown to The Charred Pig. On the way there, they could stop by the antique store. It was time for Omar to finally meet Charles.
— — —
“I need to grab something from my workshop. I’ll be right back.”
Omar watched as Cameron disappeared down one of the aisles of the antique shop, his attention soon drawn to the nearest booth.
Unlike most stores, which offered a selection of identical items in high quantities, everything here was one-of-a-kind.
So instead of a shelf being filled with ten different styles of the same coffee mug or whatever, each thing was unique.
A brass blowtorch sat next to a ceramic jug, both set atop a stack of board games.
A bust of some Greek guy had a bunch of old books leaning against his left temple, a well-worn teddy bear snuggling him from the right.
In a way, the variety put him in mind of a garage sale, except there weren’t nearly as many clothes, and most of the stuff was ancient. Like a vintage RCA radio housed in that weird brown plastic that resembled wood.
“Can I help you find something?”
Omar turned. A woman was walking toward him. She was hot, with straight blond hair that touched her bare shoulders, the rest of her thin body in a slinky sundress.
“Nah. I came here with Cameron.”
“I hope you wiped up afterwards,” the woman replied before her eyes went wide. She clamped a hand over her mouth. “Pretend I didn’t say that! I’m not sure what came over me.”
“From the sound of things, it was either me or Cameron.”
The woman’s laughter was husky. She was mature. And sexy. They eyed each other a moment. Omar gave his best smile, delighting when he noticed that she flushed in return.
“You’re one of Cameron’s friends,” she said cautiously. “Which means you’re still in high school.”
“Hey, seventeen is above the age of consent in Kansas. I’m not jailbait, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“The only concern I ever have is this,” the woman said, wiggling her ring finger in demonstration.
“Tough break,” he said, sighing as if disappointed. “For both of us. I’m in the same boat.”
“Married? At such a young age?”
“Practically. We’ve been together for like… five months now.”
“My, that is a long time!” the woman said, her demeanor subtly patronizing. “Well I certainly don’t want to be responsible for wrecking such a lengthy relationship. I suppose we’ll each have to make do with what we’ve got.” She sounded more like she was teasing him than flirting.
Omar continued to stare regardless, because something was nagging at him. He just couldn’t figure out what.
She peered back, as if equally curious. “I can’t shake the feeling that we’ve met. Have you been here before?”
“No,” he said, turning his attention to the cluttered shelves again. “I would remember. This is a really cool store.” He swung his camcorder around and panned across the booth, which was merely a pretense to get his camera rolling. “Ever thought about filming a commercial?”
“Is that the business you’re in?”
“Nope.” He turned the camera on the woman, who recoiled only slightly before adjusting to the idea of being filmed. “I mostly do birthday parties, which isn’t really my thing.”
“Well it’s never too late to change careers,” she replied.
“I only just opened this store last year. A commercial, eh?” The woman stood up taller, turning her lithe body to the side before gesturing at the nearby shelves.
“Come on down to Sweet Tea Antiques, where everything is old, and yet, better quality than anything that is new.”
Omar peered over the camera in surprise. “Hey, that’s a good sales pitch!”
“Wonderful! How would we get this on the air?”
“No idea,” he admitted. “Commercials aren’t my thing either.”
She tilted her head to the side. “Then what is?”
“Filmmaking,” he said lamely, not expecting to be taken seriously. “I wanna make my own movies someday.”
The woman perked up. “In that case, an antique shop is your best friend! If you ever need period pieces for wardrobe or set design, there is no better source.”
Omar lowered his camera and glanced around. “Hey, you’re right!” His shoulders slumped. “I bet most of this stuff is too expensive for me though.”
“If you’re a friend of Cameron’s,” the woman replied, “I’d be happy to loan you items, under certain conditions. I’ve always believed in supporting the arts.”
“That would be great!”
“I have something else that might interest you.”
He waggled his eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”
“Behave yourself! Follow me.”
She led him to the next aisle over. “We just got this in the other day. I can’t imagine who would want it, but you might be tickled to see how far technology has come.”
“That’s a Kodak Brownie!” Omar said, picking up a small black and silver box that fit snugly in the palm of his hand.
“I wouldn’t try eating it,” the woman replied. “This brownie is from the sixties and way past its expiration date.”
He guffawed while turning the camera over, marveling at the dial in the front that allowed adjustments for the type of weather or reflective terrain, such as sand and snow. “I read an interview with Steven Spielberg recently,” he said, “and this is the exact same camera he used when growing up.”
“Really? Now that is something!”
“Yeah.” They were standing closer together now, Omar able to see some of the fine lines in the woman’s face, despite the makeup she wore. She really was pretty. And yet something was just a little off. The throat?
She noticed his stare and nodded at the camera, as if wanting to redirect his attention. “Do you think it still works?”
He glanced down at the camera. “You’d need to find some eight-millimeter film.” His attention returned to her face. She seemed to recognize his confusion. “We haven’t been properly introduced. My name is Charles.”
“Hey,” he replied. “I’m Omar. Wait… Did you say—”
“Charles,” she repeated patiently.
That was weird. He used to know a girl who went by Charlie, but that was short for Charlotte. Charles was too masculine. Like if a woman went by Chuck. Then it clicked. He wasn’t dealing with a woman. Was he?
“Your mouth is hanging open, darling,” Charles said playfully.
“Oh! Uh…” He fumbled nervously with the camera, not really seeing it, because he wanted to look at Charles again and get a better feel for what was going on, but he also didn’t want to stare. “Um…”
“Hey!” Cameron said when rounding the corner. “I see you two have met.”
“Yeah,” Omar said, setting down the camera. “Got what you needed?”
Cameron didn’t answer.
“It was a pleasure making your acquaintance,” Charles said.
“Yeah, you too,” Omar replied, still not making eye contact.
He focused on Cameron, who seemed unwilling to leave. Omar made a face, trying to silently communicate the urgency. This situation was way too awkward! He didn’t relax again until they were standing on the sidewalk outside the shop.
“What did you think of Charles?” Cameron asked casually.
“That was a dude, right?” Omar blurted out.
Cameron’s tone was controlled when he replied, “He’s my friend. And one of the best people I’ve ever met.”
“Cool,” Omar replied, wanting him to know that he didn’t have an issue with it. He’d been surprised, that’s all. Although his confusion remained. “So he’s gay like you?”
Cameron shook his head. “He’s gay, like Anthony.”
What was the difference? And yet, it sort of did make sense, because Cameron was like any other guy.
Ricky was too. They dressed and talked normal.
Most people would never suspect they were into butt stuff.
That wasn’t the case with Anthony. Maybe it used to be, but ever since his best friend had come out, he skewed more feminine. But not that much!
“I get what you’re saying,” Omar replied. “But I don’t think Anthony is like him. Or her. Uh…”
“Charles uses male pronouns,” Cameron clarified, still seeming tense. “Would it bother you if Anthony was like him?”
“No, but there’s a big difference between being nelly and uh… Whatever that was.”
Cameron scowled.
Omar raised his palms. “I don’t mean any disrespect, but Anthony doesn’t go around dressed like a woman!”
“What if he did?”
Omar shrugged. “Hey, I wouldn’t have a problem with it. He’s my best friend. I love him no matter what!”
Cameron exhaled. “When you’re gay, ideally you stop caring about what anyone else thinks.
Why bother when most people already don’t accept you?
So we don’t worry about what’s traditionally male or female.
We do whatever feels comfortable—whatever feels right.
You saw what that means for Charles. He’s happiest that way. ”
“Got it,” Omar said, peering in the direction of the store. “Do you think Anthony will ever take things that far?”
Cameron shrugged. “He might.”
Trying to imagine Anthony as a girl instead of a guy was a trip.
Although there had already been hints, like when he went all-in with the makeup.
He could be really pretty too, despite the rest not matching.
All it would take is the right outfit. Then people would be just as perplexed as Omar had just been, stumbling over themselves when realizing the truth and making him feel judged.
His stomach sank. “I’ll be right back.”
Omar rushed inside the store and found Charles standing behind the counter. “Hey! Sorry about earlier. I was just surprised is all.”
“Don’t worry about a thing,” Charles said pleasantly. He didn’t seem upset.
“Yeah, but I wanted you to know anyway, because I’m totally cool with it.
You being who you are. I think it’s awesome.
I was just embarrassed for not figuring it out sooner, and I didn’t want you to be embarrassed because I was embarrassed, since there’s nothing for you to be embarrassed of. Wait, did I get that right?”
“I’d say you did,” Charles said with a gentle smile.
“My best friend is gay,” Omar continued. “You remind me of him. Maybe that’s why you seemed so familiar when we first met. Anyway, I love him. And I love people like you. Now I’m gonna go eat some barbecue.”
Charles tittered happily. “Feel free to pop in for a visit, anytime you like.”
“I’ll take you up on that,” Omar said, putting on a flirtatious smile. “I like old things.”
Charles narrowed his eyes. “You’re pushing your luck, young man. One bad note can ruin a symphony.”
“Sorry. I mean it though. You’re hot! See ya around.”
Charles thawed visibly. Omar glanced back when strutting out the front door and caught the other man fanning himself theatrically.
“He likes me,” Omar said confidently to Cameron.
“You do have a certain charm,” Cameron grumbled. “Even if it is an acquired taste.”
Omar draped an arm over his shoulders. “Does that mean you like me too?”
“Honestly? It depends on the minute. But right now…” He shrugged, a smile playing about his lips. “You’re all right.”
“I’ll take it!”
Gay guys were fun to flirt with. So were women. But a gay guy who looked like a woman… that was a whole new dimension!