Chapter 9 Reason Two #3
“You know who I saw the other day?” Kate asked, and I could sense her smirk through the filthy menu in front of my face. I attempted to kick her under the table, but I must have missed, judging by Jeff’s pained squeak. “The ever-elusive Kent Fox.”
For a moment, the entire table fell silent. I removed one hand from my menu, reaching for my drink. I wedged it between my lips and the menu, pouring it into my mouth without dropping either.
“He’s—wait, so he’s …”
“Just moved back,” Kate said. "He's staying with his mother for the time being.”
“Who’s that, Bun-bun?” Gray’s date said.
“No one.”
“His best friend and my ex,” Kate corrected. “You two used to be inseparable, right, Gray? What was it you two used to call each other? Half-gallon and Two-quart?”
“Half-pint," he said, sounding pained. "Half-pint and Two-liter.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
“Anyway, he popped into the pharmacy the other day—are you okay, Gray? You're sweating really bad—and said that he’s here to help out his momma. She’s struggling a bit financially—seriously Gray, you look like you’re choking—Such a sweetheart, our Kent.
Left his entire life behind just to help out his mother.
” She owed me nothing in the world, and still, Kate had spun a tale that didn’t make me sound like an absolute loser.
I could have kissed her for it, Jeff and my homosexuality be damned.
“Bun-bun, what’s wrong?” His date’s voice trailed off as she scurried away from the table.
“Is he gone?” I whispered.
Kate grabbed the top of my menu and tugged it down. “Oh my God, you should have seen it.” She looked at Jeff, who was beaming ear to ear. “He was sweating worse than a whore in church. Wasn’t he, babe?”
“He was freaking out,” Jeff agreed.
“Good freaking out or bad freaking out?” I asked before remembering that I didn’t give a damn one way or the other.
The waitress finally returned with our appetizers: a half-eaten jar of picante sauce and an already-opened bag of Doritos.
“What even is this place?” I said with a groan.
“I don’t know. Jeff? What do you think? Good freaking out or bad freaking out?”
“Define good or bad for me,” Jeff said.
“Can we at least get an unopened jar?” I asked the waitress.
“Good would be ... I don’t know. Kent, would Gray looking like he might have a heart attack be considered good or bad?” Kate asked.
“He was sweating real bad, man," Jeff agreed. “You know, you don't really act your age, dude. You're all over the place.”
I scowled at him. “Yes, well, most homosexuals spend their early childhood hiding who they are, so you'll have to excuse us if we're a little larger than life once we accept ourselves, you goddamn homophobe. It's like second-adulthood. I'm here, I'm queer, and I don't care if you're used to it.”
Jeff gaped at me. “I'm not homophobic.”
“Telling a gay man he doesn't fit your rigid definition of cishet adulthood is inherently homophobic. Homophobe.” I glared down at the salsa, then at the nameless waitress. “I’m contacting the health department. There’s no telling who the hell’s double-dipped out of this thing,” I said, still reeling from the shock of seeing Gray.
“I wouldn’t eat this if you paid me to.”
“Eat this,” the waitress said, grabbing the salsa and pouring it into my lap.
“I’m leaving you a terrible review on Google. I hope you know that!” When the nameless waitress was gone, I chugged my scotch. And then, because Kate had called me a bitch in front of Gray, I downed her margarita as she scowled.
Introductions and appetizers had certainly been a bust. On the bright side, Gray had disappeared, probably to take his modestly dressed date home.
I could once again speak freely without a menu dividing Jeff and myself.
Over the next twenty minutes, I asked him about his career.
What a typical day was like for him. If Gray had looked like he might cry at any moment.
His company’s chain of command. If Gray had stared longingly at the menu I was holding.
You know, standard questions one might ask during an informal job interview.
Kate had walked to the counter to get me another drink, as I'd worried people might mistake my salsa-coated crotch for vomit. Jeff and I sat alone at the booth, and I moved into the next stage of my master plan. Unfortunately, I had a pretty decent buzz going on, which loosened my treacherous lips.
“So, listen Jeff. I know Kate mentioned you were expanding your horizons.”
“I don’t think she was serious about that. I think that was just to help you out with Gray.” He fidgeted with his glass, twirling his stirrer around the edge.
“Well, I’ve recently taken a bit of time to expand mine as well, if you know what I mean.
Now that I’m back in town, I’m ...” The buzz from my scotch and Kate’s margarita had me feeling like the entire world was right in front of me, and it was full of nothing but possibility.
I leaned in, grinning at him. “On the market again. Now, I don’t like to brag, but I'm a bit of a catch,” I said with a wink.
His eyes bulged as he leaned back in his booth.
“I’m a big deal, Jeff. A really big deal. ”
Jeff glanced over his shoulder, searching for his wife, sighing when he spotted her still standing at the bar. “That’s good to know. Thank you for sharing that with me.”
I nodded, lifting a tortilla chip in the air to toast our impending business relationship.
He made no attempt to meet me halfway, so I glanced down at the glass in his hand and arched an eyebrow.
With another sigh, he lifted his drink, and I tapped my chip against it before popping it into my mouth.
Unfortunately for me, and Jeff’s face, I was in the act of swallowing when Gray and Sarah walked back into the bar and made their way toward the dance floor.
The sudden shock of seeing him sent the chip down the wrong pipe, and I forced myself to hack it back up.
The slippery, sloppy, half-chewed remains landed directly against Jeff’s nose.
He reached up, slowly wiping away the regurgitated corn byproduct from his face. Then he blinked at me. Slowly.
Kate chose that moment to make her return, handing me my drink when she reached the table. There were still small flecks of Doritos on Jeff’s nostrils, and Kate darted her eyes back and forth between us. I chugged my drink.
“What just happened?”
Jeff stared her directly in the eyes and clenched his jaw. “First, he came on to me.”
I gaped at him. “I did not,” I said, reaching for Kate’s new drink. She opened her mouth to object, but I slammed it in one chug.
“What did I do this time?” she said, snatching the empty glass.
I belched. “Nothing. I’m just going to need courage for whatever the hell pack of lies your husband is planning on spinning to defame my character.”
“You essentially said you were single and ready to mingle.”
“That’s not true!”
“Then you said you were ‘kind of a big deal.’”
“Because I am. Professionally.” I reached across the table, snatching his drink.
“Hey!”
“No.” I wagged my finger at him. “You can have it back when you learn to behave like a rational adult.”
“You just spit chips into my face and tried to hook up with me while my wife was at the bar. I don’t think you’re in any position to talk about rationality.”
I guzzled his drink because he’d essentially called me a home wrecker.
When I was done, I stood up and set the empty glass on the table.
“Dude, I’m not trying to get in your pants.
I’m trying to land a job.” Tears were hot in my eyes as I looked at Kate, who was grinning at me like a maniac.
“I don’t want to fuck you or your husband, and I don’t want to be your submissive bitch.
I don’t want to see Gray or his stupid bunny girlfriend, and I don’t want to spend the rest of my life living with my mother because I sent a picture of my personal stocking stuffer to a catfish and lost everything.
” Taking a step back, I narrowed my eyes at Jeff.
“So, no, Jeff. I reject your job offer.”
“I didn’t offer you—”
“You didn’t have to offer anything. I’m Kent Fox. I say ‘job,’ you say ‘what salary?’ That’s how this works.” Turning to Kate, I sobbed, wiping tears from my cheeks as I hiccupped. “Kate, I think I’m drunk. Am I drunk? Because I think I’m drunk.”
The devious smile fell from Kate’s face. “Fuck.”
“Oh shit,” Jeff said.
“What the hell is wrong with you two?”
“Kent?”
No. Because no, fuck, no.
I slowly turned on my heels. Gray was standing less than two feet away from me, his face white as a ghost. A ghost with far too much gel in his hair.
A ghost with unnecessarily long lashes and big brown puddles for eyes that I absolutely did not want to go swimming in.
A wraith from the pre-Atlanta period of my life with a peppering of freckles that I most certainly didn’t want to play connect the dots with, using only my tongue.
“Hi,” I said. It was the only word I could find in my drunken state.
He just stood there, staring at me with a vacant look on his face.
“I’m on vacation,” I blurted out, wiping drunken tears from my cheeks.
“A week-long vacation. I just stopped by to see my mom.” I hiccupped. “I have a job. A good job.”
“I think he heard you say you were homeless and living with your mother,” Jeff pointed out, though no one had asked for his input.
“Yes, I realize that,” I said to Jeff, my eyes locked on Gray. “Thank you very much for the update, Jeff, you goddamn sociopath.”
Gray winced when I took the Lord’s name in vain. Just as pious as ever. I tilted my head to the side, staring at him. Twenty years, and there was still an anger deep inside of me that refused to go unheard, so I channeled that rage into insults that made no sense whatsoever.