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Lawrence stared at the page of his book, but he couldn’t seem to make sense of the words. He was thinking of Adam. These days, he was always thinking of Adam. Lawrence hadn’t seen him today, and his mind kept wandering back to imaging what he had been up to.
The bathroom door was ajar, so Lawrence clearly heard when the sound of running water cut off. He briefly glanced over his book to watch the steam wafting into the bedroom. Knowing Alison would be joining him soon, he redoubled his attempts at putting Adam out of his mind.
The book was about a pilot who fought in WWII, and it was dry as hell. Usually that was what Lawrence wanted out of a before-bed book: something that he could zone out too, about the long-gone and far away, without too much melodrama. The kind of book that talked about death as a simple fact, and not something that haunts the spaces between skin and bone.
“Lawrence.” Alison’s voice carried across the room. Without looking up, Lawrence hummed to show he was listening, but Alison said his name again, more insistent this time.
Lawrence finally looked up.
Alison was in her silk dressing gown, the one she got on their honeymoon. The sash was untied and hung loose around her hips. There was very little left covered. Lawrence’s face flushed.
Alison let the meager garment fall to the floor, leaving her completely naked.
Eyes wide, Lawrence panicked and looked away. The room seemed so much warmer than it had just a few seconds ago.
“Lawrence, look at me.” Alison said softly, “Please.”
He did as he was told. There was steam slowly wafting off her damp hair, and her skin was still wet. She was the Lady of the Lake arising like a vision.
“You’re beautiful.” Lawrence said, unable to hold much back in the air that seemed so thin.
Alison had stepped around to his side of the bed. She reached for his hands and he gave them willingly. She brought one to the side of her face, and pressed a kiss to his palm, then repeated the action with his other hand.
“Alison…”
She brought one of his hands to the spot just over her heart and let go. Lawrence thought he could feel her pulse, but his own hands were trembling too.
Alison finally spoke again: “Can you touch me tonight?”
Grief pulled through Lawrence so strongly that it must have shown on his face. Alison’s own face crumbled. She took both his hands back and clasped them tightly between her own.
“We’ve started over. We’re talking, we’re stronger than we were. Please Lawrence–”
Her words were nails driving into him.
“I’m trying so hard to be there for you, but I was a victim too.” She was getting louder, more desperate, “I’m healing too. My body hasn’t felt like it was my own for weeks, and I just want it to be mine again. I want to be alive , and with someone else–with you –just for a night.”
“Alison…” Lawrence was nauseous with fear and guilt. “I can’t–” Before he could lose his nerve, or Alison could respond, Lawrence winced away from her and quietly said: “I’m gay.”
Stillness descended over the room. Even the last few wafts of steam seemed to hold in place.
Lawrence said it again, louder this time. “I’m gay.”
Alison didn’t respond. Lawrence waited, his throat clogged with anticipation.
Dropping his hands, Alison, walked back around to where she’d left her nightgown. Silently, she picked it up and slipped it back on. She tightly tied the sash around her middle.
Lawrence watched as she began to pace. It was like she had shrunk, all that air and magic falling back into a taught human back, a crossed set of arms, teeth working away at already short nails.
He finally broke down. “Please say something.”
“I–” Alison started. She turned to him and sighed, long and slow. “Did you–” She swallowed, and made another attempt. “Have you known all along?”
“No.” The words practically fell out of Lawrence now, “Not consciously anyway. Looking back on it now–”
“Looking back at what?” Alison said, “Our marriage? Our family? We’ve built a life together Lawrence.”
“That hasn’t changed.”
“But it will.”
“It already has.”
Alison looked away and returned to pacing. When she next spoke up, her words bit with acidic anger. “Were they men? The secretaries and nurses you thought I didn’t know about?”
“No.”
She threw her hands up. “What was the fucking point of it then?”
“The fear of being caught–the adrenaline–it made me feel something . I didn’t care about them the way I cared about you, and I wasn’t attracted to them the way I wanted to be…” Lawrence was hot all over, like the truth was burning him as he spewed it out. “I would flirt, take them out to dinner, maybe steal a kiss in the stairwell. I got a cheap motel room a few times, but it never felt like enough.
“I compartmentalized my whole life Ally. Everything was in its place, and the fact that–,” Lawrence pushed through and forced the words out of his own mouth, “The fact that I’m gay was hidden so far down, under so many other boxes, that I couldn’t even register it was there. I thought I was just hopeless when it came to romance.” He got quieter, mortified. “I thought everyone was lying when they talked about sex being exciting.”
Alison huffed. “You certainly could put on a show.”
“Bodies react to stimuli regardless of–”
“I know Lawrence.” Alison cut through, “I don’t need the birds and the bees talk.”
“Right.” Lawrence’s shame was threatening to swallow him whole.
Alison has stopped pacing. After a moment, she came to sit on her side of the bed. She kept facing away from him when she said, “And now?”
“I feel like I’m dying Ally.”
She turned sharply to look at him, her brows pulled tight together in concern. “What–”
“Everything is falling apart. I’m supposed to be glad to be alive–but what’s the point? For weeks, I wake up and I remember the bathroom, and the lessons I was supposed to learn–but how can cherish my life if it costs me you and Diana–”
Alison gripped one of his arms. “I’m not going to take Diana.” Lawrence was struck by the conviction in her voice. “Keeping her away from you would be like punishing her for something she didn’t do. And I refuse to become the villain of this.”
“That’s not–”
“She adores you. Taking her away would make her hate me, let alone what it would do to you.” Alison said. “People will never leave these things alone, and I will not be a bitter footnote–an ex-wife who made it all worse. When the cameras for some trashy crime show knock on my door in ten years, I need them to still have some shred of respect for me so they might listen when I tell them to leave my family alone.”
There was an ache in Lawrence, one that started deep in the back of his lungs and worked its way out. Like a poison being digested, he could feel the years of worry pressed outwards against his skin.
“I’ll draw all that away.” Lawrence said, “However I can, I’ll keep you and Diana out of this.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“I know. But I’m going to try anyway.”
They lapsed into silence. Lawrence picked at the quilt; Alison watched his hands.
After a moment, Alison cleared her throat and started speaking again. “I don’t think I ever told you about my Uncle Bruce,” she said. Lawrence shook his head and waited. Alison kept her back to him as she said: “He was my mom’s favorite brother so we went to visit him a lot when I was little. The entire time I knew him, he lived with his best friend Chris.”
A thrill of recognition went through Lawrence.
“I don’t think my mom ever understood who they actually were to each other.” Alison almost laughed, “Right up to the end, I think she thought they were just bachelors saving money on rent. I never heard anything else about it, besides ‘that’s nice for them.’
“I don’t know the family politics around it, but somehow Chris was able to give the eulogy at the funeral. That was the first time I’d ever seen an adult cry like that.”
After a long pause, Alison finally looked at Lawrence.
“I’m angry with you. I’m embarrassed. I feel like I’ve been used Lawrence. Like the last 10 years of my life were a lie.” She sighed and tipped her head back to keep the tears starting to bubble up from spilling onto her face.
Her voice was thick when she spoke again, “But I don’t hate you.” She looked to him, “You’ve been my best friend for years. You could have–” She cut herself off and started again: “You’re safe with me.”
Tears sprang to Lawrence’s eyes. Like someone had pulled a loose thread from within his chest, he started to unravel.
“Thank you.” He managed. He looked down at his hands. “Fuck, I’m so sorry Ally.”
“I know you are.”
“No, I’m sorry that you tried to come to me for comfort, and I just made it all about me again.” Lawrence studied the palms of his hands, too ashamed to look at Alison. What had he done for her recently? When was the last time she’d asked him for help?
He wanted to show her how he still cared; he wanted to keep looking after her, supporting her in the ways that he could.
Lawrence made up his mind. “Do you still want…I mean, I can…”
“What?”
“I can’t keep pretending to be someone I’m not.” Lawrence said, his conviction growing as he spoke, “But I never had to pretend that I loved you. That was always true.” Reaching out slowly, he gently placed his hand on her thigh. Alison looked down to his hand, and then back up to meet his eyes. “Let me take care of you tonight.”
“Lawrence…you really don’t have to do this.”
“I want to.” He rubbed his thumb across her thigh, “I know what you like; I know how to make you feel good.”
Alison’s breath was getting deeper, more pronounced, as Lawrence stared into her eyes. He moved his hand away from her thigh so he could hover over the sash of her dressing gown.
He waited, watched as Alison’s pupils bloomed dark with want. She nodded. He hooked a finger into the silk fabric and pulled.
- - -
Later, when Alison finally tapped out, they lay gasping side by side. Lawrence’s jaw was cramping, but he felt better than he had in a while.
Alison offered to reciprocate, but Lawrence shook his head.
“I’m good.”
Alison snorted. “That’s one way to put it.”
Lawrence pushed his hair back from his forehead, “It’s easier without the stage fright.”
Alison reached across the few inches of sweaty sheets that separated them, and took Lawrence’s hand. Intertwining their fingers, she gave his hand a grateful squeeze.
“Thank you.” She said.
He turned his head to look at her. “Are you going to be okay?”
She smiled softly. “Eventually, yeah. Are you?”
Now it was Lawrence’s turn to huff. “I think I can get there. This was a start.”
Alison squeezed his hand again. Then, she rolled over to get the glass of water she always kept on her bedside table.
Lawrence sat up with a groan and reached for this prosthetic and cane. He made his way to the bathroom to take a leak. He was splashing some water on his face when he heard Alison start to giggle; within moments it became a deep belly-laugh pouring across the room.
Lawrence stepped into the doorway and grinned at her, “What?”
“I just–” She was having a hard time catching her breath, “I was just thinking about how many times I’ve had to watching fucking Brigadoon .” A new wave of laughter overtook her and she was rolling around on the bed.
Indignant, but unable to actually be mad at someone so happy, Lawrence leaned on his cane and watched her. “You said you liked Brigadoon.”
“We had just started dating and I wanted you to like me!” Alison couldn’t stop, “I’ve never had the heart to tell you how goddamn boring it is.”
“Hey now–”
That set her off again. It was infectious.
Lawrence started laughing, and couldn’t stop. He staggered back to the bed and flopped down next to her. She immediately rolled into him, pressing her face into his bare shoulder. He could feel her joy now; the way the bed shook and her hot breath rolled out in peels.
When she finally came down from the high, Alison kept resting against his chest. She let out a deep, content sigh, and looked up at him.
“I haven’t laughed that hard in ages,” she said.
“I’m glad my repressed homosexuality has been put to good use.”
She threw her head back and cackled. Lawrence grinned. He’d never been known for being particularly funny, but Alison never cared. She insisted that he had just spent too much time in England.
Lawrence absently started carding his hands through her hair and she hummed contentedly. “Can you get the light?” She asked. Lawrence switched off the bedside lamp and they fell into the mostly-dark of a city apartment at night.
They lay there, breathing together in the pale light as their sweat cooled. Lawrence had no idea how long they were like that, and didn’t dare look at the clock for fear that it was only a few minutes. No matter the length of the respite, it had to end eventually.
Alison quietly cleared her throat, the only warning sign Lawrence got before she spoke up.
“I’m scared about starting over Larry.” She said, “I’m a middle-aged workaholic with a daughter and history of being kidnapped. Who is going to want to deal with all that?”
Lawrence thought of Adam. “You’ll find your person.”
“You say that like you already have.”
Alison had always been so good at reading him. “We don’t have to talk about it now.”
“Who is he?”
Lawrence sighed. He pressed a kiss to the crown of Alison’s head. “You’re not starting over, you know that right? I’m not going anywhere just because of this. If anything, I’ll be around even more. You’ll get sick of me.”
“You’re avoiding the question.”
Lawrence breathed out a long sigh. “It’s…well. It’s Adam.”
Alison sat up a little to look at him in the dark. “The kid from the bathroom? That Adam?” Lawrence nodded and Alison tilted her head at him with something Lawrence refused to recognize as pity in her eyes. “Larry, how old is he?”
It hurt, but then all of this hurt. The worst part was that she was right of course. Lawrence said: “He’s twenty seven, but it’s not like that.”
Alison hummed, but she still seemed more sad than judgemental. Lawrence almost wished she’d go back to yelling at him.
“He understands. He was there.” Lawrence managed, “And he’s funny, and sweeter than he likes to let on, and he really doesn’t have anyone else…”
Alison’s expression was softening, but still held that sharp melancholy edge that made Lawrence’s hair stand on end. A knife aimed right for the space between his ribs.
“You…” Alison started, carefully considering her words, “You know you’ll need to be careful right? If the papers find out about you, they’ll spread it like wildfire.”
Lawrence hadn’t thought about that. He brought a hand to his face and pressed against his eyelids until he saw stars. He’d be the gay jigsaw survivor. Fuck no–he and Adam would become some sort of tabloid’s wetdream.
“I was so caught up in what you would say that I didn’t even consider that.” Lawrence’s throat felt tight, “Fuck, I didn’t think–”
“Does anyone else know?”
“Not really.” Lawrence said, “Just you and…Adam.”
Alison’s eyes flashed up to his. “Was it part of the game?” They’d never talked about the details of what happened.
“No!” His anxiety spiked at the thought of it, “No, no. I just…it came up.”
Alison seemed to accept that. Or at least, didn’t have the energy to keep pushing.
“Ally, I really like him. He’s a good person.”
“I hear you Lawrence.” Alison laid back down, resting her head against his chest again, “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“I already cut off my own foot. My tolerance for pain is pretty high.”
She didn’t take the bait. “I don’t think you understand what this feels like. If you put all your hopes and dreams into one person, it doesn’t leave much behind when they leave.”
When. “It’s not like that Ally–”
“How do you know that? I thought we were going to grow old together. But now we’re having goodbye sex–wait, strike that. One-sided goodbye sex, before we put our failing marriage out of its misery.”
“I’m sor–”
“If you try to fucking apologize to me one more time, I’ll leave right now.” The knife hung over them, threatening to keep plunging down again and again until the walls were sprayed with blood and words that couldn’t be taken back. Alison sighed deeply.
“Tonight,” She said, “Was good. We both needed it. Tomorrow we’ll start splitting things in half and it won’t be anyone’s fault. It’s just the humane thing to do.”
A vision: Lawrence, hunched over in the stable’s little office, holding his hands over Diana’s ears as he pressed her face into his neck. The walls kept out most of the terrible noises the horse was making, but the shot rang clear through it all.
While carrying Diana back to the car, there had been this profound silence. Diana had stopped crying, the other horses had quieted down, and there was no flat-lining heart monitor to fill the void a life used to occupy. Every crunch of gravel under his feet was a firework against the dark hush.
Lawrence hadn’t thought about that day in a long time.
“Okay.” Lawrence rested his hand against her bare shoulder.
“Get some sleep Larry.” Alison tucked into his side, like she used to do when they were in college and trying to share a twin bed.
Lawrence pulled the covers up around them. He doubted he’d get any sleep, but he didn’t want Alison to get cold during the night.
- - -
It only took two rings for Adam to pick up.
Without any kind of preamble–they rarely needed it–Lawrence said, “I talked to Alison.”
There was a sharp breath on the other end of the line. “About…?”
“Yeah.”
“How’d she take it?”
“I think we’re gonna be okay.” Lawrence cradled the phone to his cheek and imagined it was Adam’s hand, “I really want to see you today.”
“Miss me already? Geeze Larry I didn’t know I had such a hold over you…” Adam’s quip faded as fast as it arrived. He was all serious when he said: “Fuck it never mind. I’m going crazy too. When I have to go all day without even talking to you, I start to think it wasn’t real. Or that this isn’t real, like I’m just hallucinating.”
“This is real Adam.” Lawrence said, “I’m real and you’re real and we survived. I promise.”
“That’s exactly what a ghostly apparition playing with my mind would say.” The humor of it fell flat.
“If I was a ghost, would I say that I want to show you my favorite movie even though I think you’ll probably hate it?”
“Oh my god is it some hard hitting drama about medical history or some shit? Are you one of those WWII dads who can name every type of tank?”
Lawrence was smiling again and it felt so good. The smiles that Adam brought to him were special. “It’s a musical. Gene Kelly is in it.”
Adam made a positive, surprised sound. “Oh okay old man, I can handle that.”
“Really?”
“Oh yeah, you ever seen the one where he wears itty bitty shorts and dances with swords?”
“You’ve seen The Pirate ??”
“Did you not hear me describe how short those shorts are?” Adam said, “And anyway my grandma loved shit like that.”
Lawrence huffed. “Great.”
“She was cool, not really your type though.”
“Oh really? And what would my type be then?”
Adam hummed. Lawrence could picture him sitting back on his couch, twirling one of his feet in the hair while he thought. “Men under the age of 30.”
“So you’re saying I’m gonna have to dump you soon?”
“No, I’m just making an observation that our sex life will get boring as shit in a few years.”
“Adam that’s just what being in a long-term relationship is like.”
“Maybe in your sad little domestic life. I refused to be anything other than blown away in bed.”
“I’ve got some bad news for you.”
“Nah doc, I think you’ve got some stuff up your sleeve. I trust you to keep it interesting.”
There was a pause, as Lawrence failed to come up with something light to flip back at Adam. In a flash, the air got heavier again. Lawrence could hear Adam’s breath through the crackle of the phone.
“I trust you.” Adam said, without a hint of irony or joke.
“When can I see you?” Lawrence asked, not letting himself dwell on how desperate he sounded.
“Are you free now?”
Lawrence glanced at his watch. “I’ve got an hour before physical therapy. I can be at your place in fifteen minutes.”
“You won’t be able to stay very long.”
“If you feel like going for a ride and wearing down my car’s battery by listening to the radio in the parking garage, I’ll let you come with me.”
“...really?”
“Yeah.”
“You pamper me Lawrence.”
Lawrence chuckled. “What else is a doctor’s salary for?”
“Hell if I know.”
“I’ll see you soon.”
“Don’t die.”
“I’ll try.”
Neither of them hung up.
“God I can’t believe I’ve become this person.” Adam put on an exaggerated voice, “ You hang up, no you hang up, no you –that kind of teen girl shit.”
“I’ll hang up.”
“Nah, I’ll do it. You have to be the adult about everything else, I can do this.”
“Okay.”
“Goodbye.”
“I’ll be there soon.”
“You better be.”
Lawrence sat and listened to Adam breath. Neither of them said anything else, but it was still a full minute later than Lawrence finally heard the click and dial tone.
Reaching for his keys and his cane, Lawrence started towards the door.