The Weekend
“Are you really taking me to the country club?” Johnette asked.
Garrett scowled at the road as he drove. He forced a smile. “You know I hate dressing up on the weekends. Where else would we be going decked out like this?”
Eron told him he’d sign him in at the front, so he had nothing to worry about, yet sweat permeated his undershirt to the point that he worried it’d come through his suit jacket. Never mind this was the most exclusive country club in the area and membership was ten thousand dollars due annually, in one lump sum.
Johnette would be in heaven. She begged him to join Bensonhurst since they attended George and Susan’s wedding reception, but neither the club nor the activities interested him. He didn’t play golf or tennis nor were there any children to take swimming.
“I’d sure use the membership,” Johnette had told him.
Johnette smoothed out her chiffon dress, the skirt shiny. Royal blue, with a cream-colored sash and cream colored gloves; it had to have cost a fortune, but she looked like a million dollars.
Garrett veered off to the parking lot when Johnette touched his arm.
“They have people to do that for you,” she said.
“I know, I just don’t like anyone driving the car.”
“Oh come on, it’s a special night. Besides, these shoes pinch my toes.”
“Okay then. I can’t argue with that, can I? We’ll keep up appearances.”
“That’s my Garrett.” She patted his thigh.
Garrett pulled up and a teen-aged boy opened his door while another got Johnette’s. Garrett held his keys in his hands and almost got back in the car when Johnette pursed her lips and cocked her head at him. Garrett laid the keys in the young man’s outstretched hand.
Johnette’s pursed lips melted into a smile as he came around the car. He offered his elbow, which she snatched up. Garrett took a slow breath, they weren’t safe at home plate yet. He had to get past the gatekeeper.
“Good evening, sir,” the maître d’ said to Garrett and nodded at Johnette. With a cold, forced smile, he asked, “And with whom are we dining tonight?” He raised his brow.
This was exactly the reason Garrett didn’t like to belong to these types of clubs. This gray-haired old man had spent a career keeping the “wrong kind of people” out. Country club memberships might be institutions, but they were old ones. This type of situation continued to fuel the differences between the haves and the have-nots. Johnette, of course, ate the whole thing up. She squeezed his arm and nearly squealed in delight.
Garrett cleared his throat. “Eron…We are guests of Mr. Eron Lassiter tonight.”
The maître d’ looked over his glasses at his list and then up at Garrett. He raised his brow, cocked his head, and smiled.
“Ah, Mr. Emerson and Miss Amick. Right this way.”
Even if the rest of the night was a bust, the reaction from the host made Garrett’s night.
See, we were on your list.
When they walked into the dining room, Johnette clutched his arm in glee. Garrett swore she drew blood. His arm already tingled from all the clamping she had done in the short time they had been there.
The focal point of the room was the Lawrence Welk-type band on the stage. A man directed the orchestra while they played “Mona Lisa Smile.” The smooth sound of the clarinets helped relaxed Garrett as they followed the host to Eron’s table.
Across the crowded room, Eron laughed at the conversation. He stuck his cigarette in his mouth and squinted so the smoke wouldn’t get into his eye. He smacked a hand on the table and the other on the back of Mary Ellen’s chair as he chuckled with the rest of his party.
As though Garrett had willed it so, Eron glanced their way. He tamped the cigarette out in the ashtray and stood. He stretched out his arms to welcome them, his grin matching Garrett’s.
“Now the real party can begin, you made it!” Eron said to Garrett as they arrived at the table. Eron extended his hand.
Garrett had to unhook his arm from Johnette’s grasp to return the shake. Both men grabbed each other in a slight hug with their left arm and held each other. For a brief moment, they were the only two in the room.
* * * *
“Mary Ellen, it’s nice to see you again,” Johnette said loudly as Eron held Garrett’s hand. Eron let go as a warm draft enveloped their table. Garrett held out Johnette’s chair and then sat down next to Eron.
“Let’s get some more drinks; who needs a cocktail?” Eron asked as he lit another cigarette. “Do you know everyone? I think you know Fred Johnson, Mary Ellen’s cousin and his wife, Deana. And this is an associate of mine, Rip Waggoner and his wife, Patricia. This is a cousin of mine, Garrett Emerson and his girlfriend—”
“Oh come on now, Eron, you know we’re engaged,” Johnette said.
Eron smiled through the cigarette smoke. “Excuse me, my mistake. This is Garrett’s fiancé Johnette Amick.”
Mary Ellen took the last swig out of her highball glass. “And while we’re correcting Eron, they’re not really cousins. Eron’s uncle married Garrett’s aunt, but that hardly makes us all cousins.”
Garrett glowered at the others around the table as they erupted in laughter at Mary Ellen’s comment.
Garrett can be my cousin if I want him to be.
“I stand corrected.” Eron lifted his glass in defeat. The others at the table lifted theirs, Garrett and Johnette grabbing the water glasses in front of them.
“So what do you do, Garrett?” Rip asked.
“He’s a loan officer,” Johnette piped in.
“How upwardly mobile,” Mary Ellen said to Patricia, loud enough for Eron to hear her.
“What’ll you have, Garrett? Johnette?” Eron asked quickly.
“White wine spritzer for me,” Johnette said quietly.
“Uh…what’s that drink we had the last time?” Garrett asked.
“White wine spritzer for the lady and he’ll have what I’m having, scotch and ginger ale with a splash of lime.”
“Be a man, Lassiter,” Fred Johnson quipped. “Drink it straight, don’t cut it with ginger.”
“The ginger makes me sweeter, Freddie boy. What’ll you have?”
After the rest of the party ordered their drinks, the large group of eight broke off into their separate conversations.
* * * *
Garrett stared at his hands in an attempt to conceal his ire. Something about Mary Ellen had irked him from the moment he met her. She drank more than anyone else and she tended to give Johnette the cold shoulder by barely acknowledging Johnette’s greeting, but more, her entitled attitude rankled. She had her nose in the air because her father was Herbert Buchanan.
Eron put his hand on Garrett’s shoulder and leaned in. Garrett inhaled his Old Spice and suppressed a smile. “I’m sorry about Mary Ellen’s comment, she’s drunk already. I don’t think anyone else heard her.”
Had they been alone, Garrett would have called Eron out for always making excuses for her. But Eron’s warm hand on his back, breath in his ear, and scent in his nose, made up for it. At least he could speak freely.
The cocktail waitress interrupted them. Garrett moved to get his wallet, but Eron grabbed his hand on top the table and squeezed.
Eron leaned over again and whispered, “Don’t worry about it, we’ll even up later.”
Garrett grabbed his hand away from Eron’s when he saw the waitress’s eyes grow large at the gesture. After she left, Garrett took a drink and looked over his glass at everyone else at the table. Mary Ellen chatted with Patricia and Rip, Johnette with Fred and Deana. That left him and Eron alone. Eron remained hunched toward Garrett, his back to Mary Ellen. Garrett looked up at from his drink and into the deep blue eyes he had come to trust.
“Thanks…uh…thanks for inviting me—us here tonight.”
Eron grinned. “My pleasure. We needed another couple.”
Garrett looked back at his hands. He couldn’t tell if Eron was serious or bullshitting him. He tried to convince himself Eron was drunk but the knot in the pit of his stomach told him different.
Eron cuffed him on the back. “I’m just kidding.” Eron’s brows fixed seriously, but still friendly. “I shouldn’t tease, I know you’re uncomfortable.”
Garrett shrugged and looked back at him. “You’ve had plenty to drink yourself.”
Eron scrunched his face into a goofy grin. “Me? Naw.”
Garrett grabbed his drink and downed it. The scotch and ginger tasted better than when Garrett had ordered the cocktail before. No doubt top shelf scotch.
He relaxed until it came time to order dinner. The menu had no prices. Did that mean that dinner came with the membership or were the prices so high that they weren’t printed?
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll take your bill out in trade,” Eron whispered.
Garrett shrugged his left shoulder to shoo Eron away. For being in a public place with their girlfriends, Eron acted bold.
* * * *
Eating helped Eron both sober up and relax. He’d had a few drinks before they’d gotten to the country club. What was I thinking?
Trying to do things with Garrett and Johnette gave rise to unreasonable jealousy. He wanted to hold Garrett’s chair and give Garrett the part of his steak he couldn’t finish. Instead, he sat beside Mary Ellen while Johnette receive Garrett’s attention and affection.
They finished dinner and ordered another round of drinks. Eron lit Garrett’s cigarette and tried to engage Fred and Rip in conversation across the large table. Eron sat comfortably with his right arm on the back of Garrett’s chair, using his other hand to hold his cigarette. Eron tamped out the cigarette when he was done, then stood up to go to the restroom.
Thankfully, it was empty. He went to the farthest urinal and pulled his cock out. Since he was alone, he pulled out his balls for just a moment, massaged them, and tucked them back in. In addition to the urine, any fear and retribution about the nature of his friendship with Garrett drained out of his body as well.
The door opened, so Eron stood taller at the urinal. He faced the wall, but used his peripheral vision to see it was Fred.
“Freddie, how are ya?” Eron said.
“I’m good, but what’s wrong with you tonight?” Fred answered as he unzipped his own pants and pulled his dick out. He did his best to face away.
As if…
“Nothing’s wrong. Why do you ask?” Eron faced Fred, tucked his limp but sizable member into his pants and zipped up. Eron noticed Fred’s glance at his crotch and stood there with his hands on his hips.
“Nothing, nothing at all.”
“Well, there must be something on your mind.”
“You just seem to be a little friendly with that Emerson fellow.” Fred shook and tucked his own cock into his pants. He must not have measured up to Eron because he didn’t face Eron until he was completely done up.
“Aw come on. I’m just having a good time.”
“Listen, what you do is your business. But…”
“But what, Freddie?”
Fred finished washing his hands and dried them. “Just because you’re a Lassiter, doesn’t mean you can treat people like shit.” Fred slammed his palms against the door and pushed it open. “No wonder you’ve driven my cousin to drink.” Fred exited the bathroom.
Eron walked over to the sink and washed his hands. He looked at himself in the mirror.
So that was it. Poor Mary Ellen Buchanan was getting strung along by Eron Lassiter. Well, you just wait, Fred Johnson. I’ll show you who wears the pants in this family.
* * * *
Garrett inhaled again when Eron sat back down. He had held his breath since Eron left. He hadn’t heard what Rip had to say across the table and he really hadn’t wanted to come with Johnette. But he was destined to live that life. A woman on his arm in public, while he pined for a man in private.
The band played and Rip and his wife danced. Mary Ellen begged for a dance with Eron, but Eron palmed her off on Fred. Johnette and Deana were deep in female conversation, which once again left Garrett and Eron alone.
“Thanks for inviting us,” Garrett said again. The words slipped from his lips before he caught them.
“Relax,” Eron said, popping him on the hand with his left fist. Eron’s arm remained on the back of Garrett’s chair where it had rested most of the night.
The song finished. Fred and Mary Ellen returned to the table, Fred holding her chair.
“Eron, dance with Mary Ellen,” Fred goaded.
Eron stood and glared at Fred. “Sure, I’ll dance. But not with Mary Ellen. Come on, Garrett.”
Before Garrett could protest or stop him, Eron grabbed his left hand pulled him out of his chair and onto the dance floor. The band played a big-band version of the Association tune, “Cherish.”
Like a moment from the movies, when the Hollywood hero pulled the heroine onto the dance floor, the crowd quiet, all eyes fixed on the starring couple. Now, all fixed their eyes on Eron and Garrett on the dance floor.
Eron turned around and held his right hand up. At first, Garrett hesitated. Eron lifted a brow and nodded towards his left hand. Garrett relented and took Eron’s hand with his left. Eron pressed their pelvises together. Garrett got an erection from the friction.
Eron swayed them back and forth. Even if this was a big joke or Eron just being an ass to Fred or Mary Ellen, Garrett reveled in the attention that Eron paid him.
Halfway through the song, Eron spoke for the first time since they left the table. “Now let’s really give them a show.”
Eron closed his eyes and smiled a genuine smile. He leaned in and pressed his cheek against Garrett’s. Had Eron not held him up, Garrett would have melted then and there.
The smell of Eron’s cologne lulled Garrett into the steps. He had started dating Johnette, with his father’s introduction, and things were going well at the bank. Garrett goes to one wedding and since, his life had spiraled out of control. Most people would have thought that dancing with another man at the Bensonhurst Country Club would be rock bottom. For Garrett, this was as good as he could expect. Eron did like to shock people. Look at the way he treated Mary Ellen. Is that what Garrett could expect when Eron grew bored with him again?
* * * *
Garrett’s soft skin soothed Eron’s rough face. He held Garrett in his arms, and swayed Garrett back and forth to the beat. Eron took in a deep breath. The dance had seemed a good idea at the time, if only to get a rise out of Fred. As he turned Garrett, Mary Ellen’s shocked expression gave a stark reality to what he faced when the song ended.
“Prepare yourself for fallout,” Eron said.
“What do you mean?”
“The ladies don’t appear appreciative of our dance.”
Eron pulled Garrett closer and rested his head on Garrett’s shoulder. He sang the final verse of the song “Cherish” into Garrett’s ear. It perfectly described the feeling he had inside for the man he loved.
Garrett pulled back to look into Eron’s eyes, where he found a sparkle. Eron nodded and grinned.
Dancing in front of everyone didn’t scare Garrett. The impending wrath from their party and the crowd didn’t deter Garrett’s grip. Eron had a responsibility to get him safely off the dance floor and out of the club.
The music stopped and the crowd clapped. Surprised that others had joined them on the dance floor, Eron applauded his fellow dancers. He nudged Garrett, who did the same. Then the conductor, with a huge smile, pointed. When the spotlight found them, Eron grinned at Garrett and they took a bow.
* * * *
The confession throbbed in Garrett’s ear.
He breathed a sigh of relief when the crowd erupted in peals of laughter. Again, Eron made a production of bowing to each corner of the room. He followed Eron back to the table. Mary Ellen had a frozen smile on her face, Johnette’s mouth agape.
As Eron sat down, Mary Ellen cackled and slapped his arm. “Always the prankster,” she said.
Johnette gave a weak chuckle, but looked away.
Eron grinned and raised his glass at Fred. He nodded and raised his glass back at Eron.
“Well, you folks play rough. Patricia and I can’t keep up with you,” Rip said as he rose out of his seat with no indication if they were amused or horrified.
“Ah, Rip, come on. Have another drink with us. I’m sorry. I was just joshin’. Garrett and I went too far,” Eron said.
“No worries, Eron. I’ll see you Monday.” He held his hand up to his mouth. “Patricia’s developed a headache, we should go,” he staged whispered.
Eron shrugged and waved goodbye.
* * * *
Garrett, his hands in his pockets, waited for the valet. He constantly reached for keys that weren’t there, anything to fiddle with. Johnette rocked back and forth on her heels, holding on to Garrett’s arm. He did his best to smile as members came out the door and assumed most people remained politely silent because of Eron’s prank-filled legacy at Bensonhurst.
#The dance meant so much to him, he swallowed any anger he might have had at the impromptu stunt. If only it hadn’t been so public. Had they danced at the VFW, the members would have surely dragged them out back and beaten them to death.
The valet brought the car. Garrett opened the door for Johnette, helped her climb in. He fished in his wallet for a tip, but Johnette came to his rescue. Once on the road, neither spoke until the lights of the club faded in the mirrors.
Johnette cleared her throat. “That was a nice evening.”
“Yeah, Bensonhurst is nice.” Garrett had had a few drinks, so he kept his eyes on the road.
“Mary Ellen has her hands full with Eron.”
Garrett forced a smile. “I suppose she does.” You can be a handful too, Johnette.
“Garrett?”
“Yes?”
“That was a joke, right?”
Garrett shrugged. “Sure.”
“I mean…you’re not…”
“Not what, Johnette?”
She turned in her seat and petted his shoulder. A nervous giggle escaped her lips. “You know…”
“No, I don’t know.”
No, Johnette, don’t worry. I am not in love with you.
* * * *