Chapter 17
Finn has asked to meet to talk about plans for the upcoming ‘Artist in the School’ event since the principal wants to start promoting it to students. I want to tell Finn that I’d be better suited for something like ‘Corporate Communications Drone in the School’, but since I forgot to email the superintendent to back out, I’m stuck being a part of the event. I’m scheduled to meet him this afternoon after he finishes some edits he’s working on.
I’ve been avoiding Finn since spending the day with him on Coney Island. All of our communication has been through email and the occasional text. After a dozen phone calls, I was able to get him a meeting with Bruce Barnes, a curator at the Museum of Modern Art who wants to have Finn lead an artist’s tour of a new exhibit for some high-end donors. It’s the kind of thing the art press will cover and the museum will certainly feature him on their website. Robert was thrilled and the bonus was that it’s kept Finn busy and at arm’s length. Until today.
Luckily, my mother is not working at Plant Daddy this afternoon. I checked and double checked the schedule in Kai’s office. I don’t want to have to worry about her coming over to fix my hair or passing me a napkin with the words ‘Sit up straight!’ scrawled across it. She’s currently working on the ‘logistics’ of setting me up on my next date.
She grilled me about Kevin last week. He wasn’t an awful person, just an awful match. I had to tell her what we ordered and where we sat. She wanted to know what I said about myself during the date and I told her I didn’t have a chance to say anything. ‘Sam, you have to at the very least tell them you’re a writer,’ she said. ‘That’s an important rule.’ Despite nodding, I chose to remain silent. That’s one rule I have no intention of following.
I did enjoy coming home and calling Paul and telling him all about the crazy date. He’s a great audience for my self-deprecating humor. He even appreciates that I’m going through all this so it will be easier for us to be together when he comes back to New York. At first I thought he might not like the idea of me going on all these dates but it didn’t seem to matter to him. I’m not sure if it’s the fact that he isn’t the jealous type or that we’re on opposite sides of the country and not really together until he comes back. In any case, I’m glad I can share my misery with him.
As soon as I walk into Plant Daddy I head to the counter and to place five dollars in the tip jar. I’m hoping to make my deposit before Omar sees me but I’m too slow.
‘You have got to stop doing that,’ he says placing his hand over the jar.
‘I owe you big time. Making you spend the evening with that guy. It’s the least I can do.’
‘It wasn’t so bad. He was nice and not like anyone I’ve met before really.’ That’s Omar. The endless optimist. ‘Are you coming over tonight? I need to finish the hem on that skirt.’
‘Yes and I promise I won’t let out a peep when you stab my ankles with your pins.’
I have a brief chat with Damola, who tells me that he and Jimena are planning a romantic getaway to celebrate their anniversary. ‘I’m making your mom a playlist with some classic hip-hop and Jimena is working on a beautiful broach for her. It’s copper with little ruby beads. We really want to thank her for setting us up,’ Damola says.
‘Very thoughtful of you.’ I wonder if my mom has told him to remind me about her role in their relationship. I wouldn’t put it past her.
The bells above the door ring and Finn walks in. He pulls off his sunglasses and squints for a second as his eyes adjust to the light and he unwraps his plaid silky scarf so the ends fall across his chest. I notice almost everyone in the cafe either consciously or unconsciously shifts their attention toward him. He has a kind of magnetism that goes beyond great looks – a combination of attractiveness and something else. I’m about to ponder what that something else is when I stop myself short. I don’t want to know. Why is water wet? What makes hot guys hot? Who knows? This is exactly why I wanted to keep our communication electronic.
He waves and joins me at my favorite table near a tall yet unassuming fiddle leaf fig plant with lovely green leaves the size of dinner plates.
‘How are your edits going?’ I ask.
‘Hard,’ he says putting his camera on the table and pushing his hair back behind his ear. ‘I kept pushing to make this photo happen with this great person I interviewed a few weeks ago. I want the image to flow. They have such a powerful story but I just could not find the right way to put it all together.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I say.
‘I kept trying to muscle through, but the more I tried to do that, the worse it got, so I finally shut down my laptop and went out for a walk last night. Sometimes that’s the only thing that helps.’
‘But it was pouring?’ Last night some crazy storm passed through the area dumping so much rain on the city that the F train shut down. Not that the F train is a Profile in Courage. It pretty much shuts down without a reason, but still, it was not the type of weather anyone would take a stroll in.
‘It’s just a little water. You need to find inspiration wherever you can. Walking helps me focus. Helps me see a problem in a new way. Everyone has something that gets their creative flow out of a rut. Aren’t you like that? What inspires you?’
I shrug. I have no idea. I used to think I wanted to tell stories that weren’t around when I was a kid. But lately there have been so many new voices I think I got lost in the crowd. Writing for Justine meant I didn’t have to think about any of that. I wrote to her market. I knew her readers well, even if I wasn’t exactly part of the demographic – divorcees living on the Upper West Side. Now, I’m not sure where I fit in. Sometimes, I think I’m not gay enough, and I always think I am not cool enough. So, what’s the story I want to tell? Is there an audience for the characters I want to write. Everyone wants likable leads but how can I do that when I struggle so much with liking myself?
‘Oh, this and that,’ I say hoping he won’t investigate further. I’m severely embarrassed by such a lame answer. I jump up and ask, ‘Can I get you a latte?’ He nods. ‘Be right back.’ I head to the counter and place the order with Maggie.
‘Are you on a date with that guy? Did your mom set you up?’ she asks over the espresso machine as she grinds the beans.
‘No and no. And I hope my mom isn’t annoying you,’ I say.
‘I love your mom. Did you know I’m a summer? I’ve been wearing the wrong colors my whole life. Your mom knew it the minute she saw me in a red sweater. She has forbidden me from wearing that shade ever again. I’m so grateful.’
‘That sounds like her,’ I say. Maggie finishes steaming the milk and hands me the drinks in the white standard-issue latte mugs that have a few chips on them. I walk back to join Finn.
‘I spoke to the principal at Harvey Milk School and she gave me a date in December. Is that still okay for you?’ I ask as I sit down.
‘Yep. I’ve got it on my calendar. Did she say more about what she wanted us to do?’ He has a notebook and a pencil. I can tell he’s taking this seriously, which I admire.
‘I was thinking we could start with a screening of a great classic film. Something these kids might not have seen before. No superheroes,’ I say and he laughs.
‘I get it,’ he says. ‘I think we should inspire them with the power of what a story can do.’
I take a second to think and then say, ‘Something classic like Billy Wilder’s Sunset Boulevard. ’ I just saw that it was playing at one of the last screening rooms in the city that still shows classic movies. The drama of Gloria Swanson’s eyes alone is enough reason to show it. I grew up loving this movie. Finn scrunches his lips from side to side. ‘I don’t know. Maybe, I guess.’
My suggestion has not inspired him.
‘I was thinking something more contemporary.’ His eyes brighten. ‘Maybe something serious like Moonlight . Mahershala Ali gives an amazing performance and it hits on so many important issues. Or maybe something fun like Priscilla Queen of the Desert. ’ I roll my eyes and don’t try to hide it since his mouth scrunching was so obvious. ‘What, you don’t like those?’
‘They’re good movies. Especially Moonlight and Priscilla is fun.’ As a kid, I memorized multiple lip-syncs from Priscilla and performed them in front of my mirror to scores of enthusiastic audiences in my imagination. ‘It’s just that these kids already go to an LGBTQ school. I think it’s too on the nose to show them films like that. Let’s build up their knowledge and show them something classic.’
‘Are you kidding? Those films are classic. Moonlight won Best Picture.’
‘So what? Awards are meaningless.’ I quickly remember he has been nominated for multiple awards for his photos over the past year. ‘I mean, not all awards.’
‘Smooth. Nice cover, Sam,’ he laughs and he makes me laugh too. ‘I don’t really care about awards either. But I care about representation. Don’t you?’
‘Sure.’
‘Then let’s show something that features that,’ he says, his tone growing more insistent.
‘But does it have to be representation all the time? Twenty-four-seven? I think these kids need something different. They need to see the roots of queer sensibility, not just a mirror all the time.’ My agitation begins to show through my voice.
‘I don’t get it. Why don’t you want to show queer films to queer kids? That doesn’t make any sense to me,’ he says with a huff. I can tell he’s getting irritated also.
‘That’s not what I’m saying at all.’ I raise my hands in the air to show my frustration. ‘It has nothing to do with not wanting to show them.’
‘But you don’t want to show them.’ Finn crosses his arms in front of him.
‘No, I don’t,’ I say although my point is that I would like to explore other options but I’m not going to give him a way out. My movie choice is just as valid as his.
‘Maybe the problem is you aren’t comfortable with those films.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve seen Moonlight more times than you and I own Priscilla on DVD.You don’t get to decide what I am and am not comfortable with.’ My volume is louder than called for. This is why I hate guys like this. Artists always think they have the market cornered on originality and creativity. It’s so annoying.
‘Now you aren’t being fair. I’m not doing that at all,’ Finn says. His pitch and tone match mine.
‘Yes you are!’ I’m almost shouting – in fact, I am shouting.
‘No, I’m not,’ he shouts back like we are two toddlers fighting over a toy. Before I can get the next retort out Kai is suddenly rolling over to our table to pull the brake sharply.
‘Excuse me folks. This is a quiet, friendly place and your shouting has a very negative effect on the African violets. I will have to ask you both to keep your voices down. Please think of the plants!’
‘Sorry, Kai,’ I say in a hushed tone. Finn says the same.
Kai takes a second to stare us down and then nods and goes back to his watering.
I take a deep breath and try reapproaching with a calmer attitude.
‘All I’m saying is that I think these kids could learn a lot from Sunset Boulevard . It’s brilliant and camp. I think they need to learn about what came before there was any type of representation. Being gay isn’t just about this moment. It’s about all the moments that led to now when the world was less tolerant and we still existed. Don’t you think it’s a great film?’
‘I’ve never seen it.’ He shrugs and some of his swagger fades.
‘It’s playing at St Marks Cinema,’ I blurt out.
‘How about Saturday? I could do…’ He swipes through his phone. ‘There’s one at 9:15.’
‘Wait. What? I wasn’t suggesting we go out and see it this week. Together?’ We have suddenly swung from an argument to planning a movie night and I’m not sure how it happened.
‘I know. I’m suggesting it. We’ll both go with open minds and take in the evidence and that way we can decide what movie we should screen. Can you do Saturday? The 9:15?’
‘I guess that can work,’ I say mindlessly. But the fact is I haven’t been to that cinema in a long time and I’d love to return.
‘Sounds like a plan.’ He shuts his notebook and grabs his camera. ‘I have to get back to my edits but I’ll see you Saturday.’ He gets ups and I watch him walk out the door.
I take a second to let the conversation-argument settle in my brain. Finn has this way of getting right to the heart of a situation. He’s direct in a way that’s exciting but also makes me nervous. I take our empty mugs up to the counter and I see the door to the back storage area is cracked open. A pair of large sequined glasses are peering out. I’d recognize those rainbow frames anywhere. I drop off the dirty latte mugs and walk over to the door.
‘Mom, what are you doing here?’
‘I work here,’ she says defiantly.
‘I know that, but today is supposed to be your day off.’
‘Don’t you worry about my schedule. I’m working on a project in the back.’
‘What kind of project?’ I ask.
‘Just cleaning up a closet that hasn’t been used for years and… never mind,’ she says coming out into the cafe. ‘Who was that young man you were talking to? He’s very handsome.’
‘Is he?’ I pretend I haven’t noticed.
She sighs. ‘Son, your life would be so much easier if you were a better liar. And I saw you were arguing. Very passionately, I might add.’
‘You were watching from behind the door? Mom, that’s super creepy. Even for you.’
‘It’s not like I was reviewing security camera footage. What did you say his name was again?’ She walks over to the shelf under the counter and grabs her huge purse.
‘I didn’t,’ I say.
Kai wheels past us and my mom stops him. ‘Did you see the man my son was talking to.’
‘Talking to? When I went over there, they were more than talking. He was having a full-blown argument with Finn.’
‘Oh, that’s his name? Finn?’
‘Yeah, Finn Montgomery. I met him the other day when Sam was late. Finn’s a very talented artist,’ Kai says and I can see the wheels in my mom’s head start spinning. ‘How are things going back there, Gloria? You finding what you need?’
‘I sure am, Kai. Thank you.’
‘Anything for you Gloria.’
Kai goes to his office and my mother pulls out a small notebook from her purse and begins to write. I move toward her and grab the pen out of her hand.
‘No,’ I say firmly.
‘Hey, that’s a very expensive pen. It’s one of those German magic markers. Well, a fake version but still it’s—’
‘No. No. No. You are not writing down Finn Montgomery as one of my possible dates. I work with him. It’s unethical.’
‘Give me that pen,’ she says reachingfor it. I yank it away. ‘It is not unethical. It’s complicated, maybe, but people can work together and fall in love. It happens all the time. One of your favorite movies is The Desk Set. ’
I do love the Katharine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy workplace romance but I will not have it used against me. ‘Mom, that’s a movie. This is real life.’
‘I knew you’d say that but don’t forget they were a couple both onscreen and off.’
‘Mom, be reasonable. You saw him, right? With your glasses on? The ones for distance, not reading?’
‘Yes, of course. He’s gorgeous.’
‘Exactly. A guy like that is not going to be interested in a guy like me.’ I can feel her revving up for some manufactured pep talk. ‘No,’ I say, holding up my hand to stop her. ‘I’m not saying I should leave society and work in a Russian troll farm but I also know I’m not in that guy’s league. Not even close.’
I’ve been with a few super-hot guys but I was always wondering why they were with me and what they saw in me. Maybe that’s why older, more average guys like Paul are so much easier. I have my youth to fall back on with Paul, although that’s a dwindling resource with each passing year.
In one quick move she grabs the pen from my hand and writes down ‘Finn Montgomery’ in her notebook.
‘Fine. Write down whatever you want. I would never date Finn. Never.’