“THE END came very suddenly, or at least it did as far as I was concerned,” Charlie said.
Tory didn’t say one word. Not yet.
“I parked in front of the house, and I hadn’t really noticed the overly big U-Haul in front of the house, even though I parked—backed in!—right in front of it. You see them everywhere, after all. They’re just a part of the background. It wasn’t until I walked through the propped-open door and saw the living room half-empty, including the fact that our brand-new flat-screen was missing, that I realized that particular Friday afternoon wasn’t ‘life as usual.’”
Charlie gave a half laugh. “Absurdly, my first thought was that we’d been robbed. Burgled, I guess. But then I saw the people taking our things were still doing it. And that’s when Gerald told me he was leaving.”
Again, Tory said nothing, and Charlie supposed that was a good thing because Charlie had to keep going or he might not be able to finish.
“‘You’re home early,’ Gerald said.”
Charlie trembled for a moment, then got in control of himself.
“I had picked us up some dinner from a Chinese drive-thru—General Tso’s chicken, not too hot, empress shrimp, and two orders of dumplings, one fried, the other steamed. And fried and white rice, because Gerald and I always had very different tastes.
“Gerald was standing there in jeans and a tank top, and I thought, Gerald? In a tank top? Without a shirt? And he was all sweaty. I don’t know if I had ever seen him sweat. Not really. And he said he was leaving, and he was taking half of everything.
“There were these two burly men, equally tank-topped and just as sweaty, moving boxes and some chairs, and all I could do was stand there in shock. He told me that he couldn’t take it anymore. And I couldn’t figure out what the hell he was talking about.”
He looked at Tory and struggled to keep control. It still bothered him. Still hurt!
“Because I’m the one who had reached the end of my rope! I changed everything for him. I didn’t decorate anymore because he hated my things. He didn’t like my music or the movies I liked. He wanted an open relationship and I didn’t, but I put up with it to keep him. He never listened to me. I bored him. I think I’m interesting, but he never paid attention to anything I was interested in. Hadn’t cared that the doorbell played the Westminster Chimes, and that they were the same ones Big Ben used or that they originally came from Handel’s Messiah. He kept saying he hated ‘all of this,’ and all I could see was that ‘all of this’ was half gone.
“He kept going on and on about how he hated my salt and pepper shakers! And I just stood there, trying to figure out what was happening and what to say. I kept thinking, He’s leaving…. And I got more and more numb because I hadn’t seen it coming for one single second. And what was crazy, the thing I kept going over and over in my mind, was that for at least a year, maybe two, I’d been trying to build up the nerve to ask him to leave.”
Charlie gasped then, that he had said all that out loud, had only ever told Gay and then only once. Because he’d always defended Gerald, even when everyone else—everyone!—had tried to tell him what bad news Kill-Joy was.
“But it was then I saw the movers were taking my dining room table, and I just… I just snapped! I went at those two huge men, and I told them to put that table back!”
He realized he was almost shouting then, but he couldn’t stop. He’d kept it inside too long.
“I went at them and told them to put it back. Put it back. Put the table back!”
And still Tory said nothing. Charlie even looked at Tory again to make sure he was listening. Because what if, like Gerald, he’d gone away mentally, bored to death. He was afraid for a second that was what he would see. But no. Tory was listening. Charlie could see it in those eyes. Those amazing eyes.
Charlie shivered a minute, and then, to his surprise, laughed. “You ever see that picture—it’s on the internet—of the dachshund chasing the rhino? I researched it. I think it’s real and not photoshopped. They can be fierce little creatures.”
Tory nodded. Finally said, with the barest smile, that, “Yes, I’ve seen it.”
“That must have been just how I looked to those men! Because they left. I told Gerald to Get out of my house! and they did. He did.”
Another shiver. He couldn’t help it.
“And I’ve only seen him two times since then, quickly, for business. Makes you aware how big Kansas City really is.”
He looked at Tory again. Saw he wanted to say something, ask something, but didn’t.
Charlie nodded. “Go ahead.” He’s going to ask me “Why did you stay with him?” Like everybody else.
But he didn’t. Tory took a deep breath, “I wish I had been there for you.”
The comment so surprised Charlie that the answer to the unasked question was out of his mouth before he knew what he was going to say. “I let him stay because it meant I wasn’t alone. I had someone. And I could go to parties and dinners and the K.C. Men’s Monthly Dinner Group, and I wasn’t one of those sad guys who was always there alone. I stayed because I didn’t think I was worth any better.”
To his horror, he burst into tears then and, to his surprise, found Tory was holding him. He resisted only a moment, as embarrassed as he was, and then…. God. Tory felt so damned good!
“Oh, sweet, handsome man,” Tory said after a long, long time of not saying anything, just holding him. “You are worth more. So much more. And you’re not alone. You have Gay. You have those men that are coming to your Christmas dinner and—”
“Why do you call me ‘handsome man’?” Charlie blurted.
“Why do you think?”
“I don’t have a clue!”
“Because you are handsome, silly!”
“Me?” The idea shocked Charlie. Him? Handsome? “I’m as plain as plain can be.”
Tory shook his head. I think you’re hella handsome!” And as he looked into Tory’s eyes, he saw that Tory was being sincere. He meant it. Charlie could hardly believe it!
And suddenly, again, words came out of Charlie’s mouth he didn’t even know he was going to say.
“What are you doing for Christmas, Tory?” And then he froze because, God, how desperate he must have sounded? Because Tory had gone all stiff, and…. Shit. What did I do? Why did I say that?
“Swanson turkey dinner, I suppose,” Tory said.
“You could come to my place. Would you like to?”
The look on Tory’s face was nothing less than shock. “I—I don’t know….”
“Please, Tory.” Trying not to sound like he was begging. But he was. Begging. “It’ll make me feel less pathetic. The other people coming are couples. I won’t be a fifth wheel.”
God! Had he said that out loud?
A small smile came to Tory’s face. “You have place settings for six?”
“I do. Eight. Thanks to Gay.”
“She has that way about her.”
Charlie could only smile. He was so nervous he couldn’t speak.
“Well, sure, then,” Tory said. “I wouldn’t want you to be the fifth wheel.”
Charlie was suddenly giddy. “Thank you, Tory.”
“No, Charlie. Thank you.”