Eggnog

You can not do that, Hugh said.

I have no choice, Martin responded without looking up at him. He was slumped forward in his chair, head in his hands, elbows pressed against the edge of the desk. His eyes were cast down. He saw only the faded green of the blotter.

Look at me, Hugh said.

It's no use, Martin said.

But last night, last night, Martin, you...

Don't go there, Hugh.

I don't understand.

I think you do, he said, looking at him now. You ought to. But it doesn't really matter. It's best this way.

Best for whom?

Just best.

Maybe for you.

For us.

Us? Hugh sniggered.

Yes. Us.

But what happened?

Martin shook his head.

Say something, Hugh said in half a voice.

There's nothing to say. You're a grown-up man. Actions have consequences. You knew that.

But why now?

Martin did not answer.

Because it has become too intense?

Don't be a fool, Martin said.

What if I were to go to Lew?

You would not do that.

Why not?

Because it is not like you.

How do you know what's like me? How? I thought I knew you. And it turned out I was wrong. Why can't you be wrong, too?

Because I'm not wrong. Try to be reasonable. Do you think I like this?

I don't know. Maybe you do.

Hugh, you have to leave now.

And what if I go to Lew?

He won't believe you. He'll take it for malice. You know what your last supervision report was like.

Thank you.

I had nothing to do with that report.

No?

No. It was not me who reviewed you.

Hugh took in a breath through his nostrils.

Look, don't make this more difficult than it is. You can still leave with dignity or...

Or. Hugh punched his left palm with his right fist.

I know. Ok. You win. But this is going to go down so heavy. Doesn't that matter to you?

Martin was silent.

Even if I do nothing, Hugh began, do you really think...

But confusion was choking him. He grabbed his coat from the chair beside him. He turned quickly and left the office, slamming the door.

He pushed his way down the escalators and through the crowd out the revolving doors onto the midtown street.

A wind full of snow ripped at his face.

===========================================================

I will, Jason said, and Martin smiled with relief, extending his hand, which contained the envelope.

Jason took it from him.

Thank you, he said. It was too painful a thing for me to do.

I understand, Jason mumbled, even though he didn't.

Can you let him know I wish it could be otherwise?

I think he knows that already, Jason said, trying to make everything sound civil and reasonable and knowing that it wasn't.

No, Martin said. I doubt he does. And I doubt you think so either. There's nothing to make it seem that way. If anything, the circumstances make me look like the villain, heartless, like I betrayed him.

I'll do my best, Jason said.

He did not say, Yes, you did; it is not just a matter of looks like.

I'm sorry, Martin said. That's all I can say, except to thank you for...

It's ok, Jason said, needing to cut it short.

Sometimes things turn out like this, Jason said. It was lame; he knew it; but it was an exit line and he wanted to get out.

I knew you'd understand, Martin said, lowering himself back into his chair behind his desk.

Jason turned the brass knob and pulled the heavy oak door towards him. He caught a glance of the early evening sky filled with fat, looping snowflakes, and the point of the Empire State building through the slats of the Venetian blinds.

Happy Christmas, Martin said. Give Danny my best.

Sure thing, Jason said, closing the door behind him. He slipped the envelope into the inside pocket of his jacket and walked quickly through the corridor back out onto the sales floor.

============================================================

The first thing he saw among the crowd of shoppers was Leonard Simon. Jason had not seen Leonard Simon for more than twenty years. True, he had thought of him every now and then. They had not been friends in school, nor enemies, either, but Jason had always had an eye for him. It was an eye of admiration, and envy, and guilty desire. So I guess it was not strange that he recognized him immediately despite the change. He looked prosperous. He had put on weight and was almost fat.

Jason has never been attracted to fat men, and has managed to keep his own weight down since he was fourteen when he became sexually interested in himself. For the most part, he has been successful. Oh, there have been times when he put on some pounds. And it was during such times, when he'd see an old picture of himself at the beach, sleek in a bikini, or on the roof in summer time in cut offs, buff and shirtless, that he really hated himself. But he always managed to get control of his weight again, and for at least the last dozen years he has been lean. Working out with weights every day has given his body good contour.

Leonard Simon was looking at a set of electric trains. Electric trains are not what they used to be. Now that video games and computer games have become popular and air travel has replaced rail travel, they seem to have lost their allure. But, once upon a time, electric trains combined romance and know-how for any boy with an adventurous spirit.

As far as I am concerned, a tree at Christmas has no aura if it does not rise above a magical village with cotton snow and a mirror lake with skating figurines upon it. And there must be a snaking expanse of track with towers, tunnels, platforms and such-like winding through a busy terrain dotted with evergreens, upon which a locomotive pulls passenger cars, box cars and a red caboose. A horse by itself in a field near a stable or drawing a wagon here or there never hurts, either.

May I help you, sir? Jason said approaching him.

No, no, he said, glancing at the handsome young man without a sign of recognition and hardly any awareness of him. Just looking. I haven't seen a set of trains like these in years, he said. What they cost?

They aren't for sale, Jason said. We set them up as part of the Christmas display every year.

For old time sake, he said.

Yes, Jason said.

And he left.

Jason stood transfixed for a moment, looking after him as he walked to the food court, for old time's sake, satisfied with the course his life had taken, but saddened nevertheless.

========================================================

You don't think he recognized you? Daniel said.

No, Jason said.

Why didn't you introduce yourself?

There was no point, Jason said.

Ashamed he'd see you working in a department store?

No, Jason said. Are you ashamed of me because I work in a department store?

Why should I be ashamed of you for that? Daniel said as he finished wrapping the crust around the meatloaf.

I don't think you should be, but when you ask me if I am....

Oh, come on, Daniel said. Don't be so analytical.

Me analytical?

What's that supposed to mean? Daniel said grinning.

Well, you are the one who is a lawyer.

It's my bad habit of treating every situation like a cross examination, he said.

Daniel rinsed his hands, dried them in a dishtowel, and took Jason in his arms and looked into his eyes with those penetrating deep green eyes he knew how to use to break his witnesses down in court. I'd seen him do it.

I'll confess, Jason said.

And deprive me of the pleasure of beating it out of you? Daniel said with a smile and kissed Jason lightly on the lips, and sweetly, and then fully.

My knees always buckle when you do that, Jason said.

They're supposed to, Daniel said.

Let me taste your eggnog.

Our guests will be here in a few minutes.

I mean the eggnog in that bowl, Daniel said, taking a sip from the ladle without releasing Jason.

Delicious, he said. Just like you.

===========================================================

That was Hugh.

Daniel looked up at Jason, but continued ladling out the eggnog.

He said he was not coming.

And?

I told him he ought to.

And?

He said he'd ruin everything.

And?

I said we could take care of it.

You're an optimist.

You can't just let a guy twist in the wind at a time like this.

I know. Did you tell him about the money?

Jason shook his head.

I have to figure that one out.

It adds insult to injury.

We'll see. Perhaps.

============================================================

Matthew brought a bottle of champagne and Derek brought some pot. Randall, as usual, did not bring anything but a prodigious sense of entitlement.

Where's Hugh? he asked, looking for him in the crowd of guests.

He probably won't be here.

Indeed! he said.

What's that supposed to mean? Larry asked coming from the kitchen with the quiche he had brought.

You've gotten rid of that adorable moustache, Randall said in response.

How do you like it? Larry asked.

Any way I can get it, Randall said, raising only his left eyebrow.

Where do you want this? Larry asked Daniel, indicating the quiche he was still holding with his oven mittens.

On the table in the den, Daniel said.

Is no one going to enlighten me? Randall said with a pout that was only half put on.

Martin fired him.

On Christmas Eve?

============================================================

Hugh did show up, quite drunk. He fell into my arms when I opened the door and buried his head in my neck. I stroked his back a little and then held him at arms length.

You can tell me to leave if you don't think I'm in the proper state to mingle with others, he said.

Don't be ridiculous, I said as Jason approached.

Let me have your coat, he said.

What are you going to do with it? In case I need to beat a hasty retreat.

I'm putting it in the guest bedroom, Jason said. On a coat rack. Come. I'll show you where it is.

We followed him down the narrow hallway and into the small bedroom.

I saw Martin today, Hugh said.

I know, Jason said.

You know? Hugh said.

Yes, Jason said. He gave me this to give you, he said, handing him the envelop.

Son of a bitch, Hugh said taking it from Jason's hand. He started to rip it in two but then just threw it onto the bed.

I picked it up and opened it. There were five one-hundred-dollar bills inside a sheet of paper folded in three.

I wish it could be different, Martin had written in his bold handwriting in brown ink.

The bastard, Hugh said.

You can use the money, I said, handing it to him.

He can roll up the money and shove it up his ass and then suck on it, Hugh said slapping my hand away.

I put the money and the note back in the envelop and put it in the top drawer of the chest across from the bed.

Hugh, Jason said, putting an arm around him, I know it is difficult now to have any perspective on this, but I also know...

Perspective! What do you know about perspective? Renaissance painters knew about perspective. Perspective means that something disappears. Is gone. Poof. Snappo. Perspective!

So saying he dropped onto the bed in a sitting position. Feeling its inviting softness, he stretched himself out and immediately was snoring quite loudly.

Jason looked at his inert body, shook his head, pulled off his shoes, loosened his tie. I rolled the part of the bedspread that fell over the side of the bed around him.

You've got a house guest, I said.

The sleep will do him good, Jason said.

We'll see, I said. I hope so.

Come on, Jason said with his broad smile, putting his arm around my shoulders. Let's go back to the party. Have you tasted Daniel's eggnog yet?

===========================================================

Hugh squeezed his eyes shut, tight against the blazing sunlight and the piercing pain sticking like an ice-pick stabbing his skull. He sat up and looked around, unable to figure out where he was. His mouth was dry and his tongue was swollen, and there was a vague feeling of nausea that fluttered within him.

It's not so good, is it? Daniel said. He was sitting on the chair by the window.

Can you shut the blinds? Hugh said.

Can you make it to the kitchen for a cup of coffee? Daniel said, approaching him. Give me your hand.

The floor wobbled beneath his feet as Daniel led him through the narrow hallway to the kitchen where Jason in a maroon, floor-length dressing gown was making Turkish coffee on the gas range.

Good morning, sunshine, he said, approaching Hugh and taking him by the shoulders.

Please, Jason, Hugh said, taking hold of the sore crown of his skull.

Coffee for you and then a shower.

Right, Hugh said, and then what.

How about ice skating at Rockefeller Center?

You've got to be joking, Hugh said.

First things first, Jason said. Have some coffee.

He let go of him and poured him a cup of steaming, sweet, black coffee.

Hugh sucked in his breath to cool his tongue after the first sip.

It's hot.

Just like you, Randall said from the doorway where he was standing.

Who else is here, Hugh said, to witness my utter disintegration?

I am, I said.

I should have known, Hugh said. Our own Anais Nin!

O, come now, Randall said. The poor lad has to make a living.

This may be entertainment for all of you, Hugh said. For me, however...

Give me that, Randall said, taking his cup and putting his arm around him. Come with Papa.

There are fresh towels in the closet across from the sink and clean terrycloth robes hanging on the hooks on the back of the door, Jason said.

You are going to enjoy this, I promise you, Randall said, maneuvering his unsteady charge to the bathroom.

============================================================

What are you doing?

I don't want to get my clothes all wet, and you seem to be in no condition to shower by yourself.

Hugh sucked in his breath when the cold water hit his bare back.

Here, Randall said, turning on the hot water. That ought to be bearable. Turn around.

Hugh faced him and Randall began soaping the back of his neck with both hands, holding him in a gentle embrace.

I don't know what I'm going to do, Hugh said.

It's not as bad as that, Randall said, with his soapy hand beginning lightly to wash Hugh's scrotum and then, as he stiffened, slowly to stroke him.

You see, he said, before touching his lips with his own. I told you so.

============================================================

[When you write, please insert story name in subject slot. Thanks.]