Obligatory warnings and disclaimers:
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If reading this is in any way illegal where you are or at your age, or you don't want to read about male/male relationships, go away. You shouldn't be here.
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I don't know any of the celebrities in this story, and this story in no way is meant to imply anything about their sexualities, personalities, or anything else. This is a work of pure fiction.
Questions and commentary can be sent to "writerboy69@hotmail.com". I enjoy constructive criticism, praise, and rational discussion. I do not enjoy flames, and will not tolerate them.
Back to the story in progress.
Jack
I sat on the bed, feeling hollow inside, certain that I had destroyed everything. Josh had never spoken to me that way, not ever. I heard the water running in the bathroom, and I stared at my hand, twisting my rings around and around on my finger, waiting for him to come out. I wasn't sure if he intended to, though, and I needed to see him, needed to make things right. I tapped softly on the door, but he didn't answer, so I walked across the room and sat on the bed, folding my hands. When the bathroom door finally opened, I looked up at Josh and saw that his face was wet, and his hair was a little wet around the edges, where he had washed his face. He stood in the bathroom doorway, watching me.
"Josh, I'm sorry," I said. "I know it was wrong to play on that woman like that, but I couldn't think of anything else to do. I know that it wasn't nice, but it didn't really hurt anyone."
Josh sighed, and shook his head.
"That isn't what hurt me, Jack," he said, not moving. "I mean, yes, I was a little disappointed to see you act like that. It's not something you usually do, and I know you only did it this time because you were upset, but that's not really why I'm unhappy, Jack."
"Then what is it?" I asked, confused. "What did I do?"
"You used me," Josh said. "You've never treated me that way before, never done that, and it hurt, Jack. You always told me that you loved me for me, for who I was, and today you used me, and it was like you stabbed me, Jack."
I swallowed, hard, but I didn't really have anything to say, because he was right. I had used him, had played the celebrity card without even thinking about it. I had put JC before Josh, and in realization it stung us both. I saw him standing in the doorway and saw that I had wounded him deeply. I saw it in the slump of his shoulders, and the pain in his face.
"Josh, I'm sorry," I said quietly. "I'm sorry. I wasn't, I didn't think. It was selfish, and it was heartless."
"You never treated me that way before, Jack," Josh repeated, and when he looked up at me I saw tears standing in his eyes. "You treated me like a commodity, the way everyone else does, and it hurt. It was like I was looking at a different person, like a stranger. I love you, Jack, but for a second, for a second it was like you didn't love me the same way."
"Josh, I'm sorry," I said, crossing the room. He held out his arms, and I folded myself into them, both of us leaning against each other. "I don't know what else to say, Josh. I didn't do it on purpose. I didn't mean to say it, but we were so close, and I knew the answers were right there, and I just, for a second I would have done anything, just to know. I didn't mean to hurt you. I'd never do that. I'm sorry, Josh, I'm so sorry. I love you too much to hurt you, too much to do that. I just, I got all caught up in it."
"I know you didn't mean to, but it still hurt, Jack," he said softly, holding me. "You always say how important it is to you that you be your own person, and it is for me, too. Jack, when I'm with you, I'm not JC. I'm Josh. I'm the person that I am inside, the person that no one owns but you, the person that people don't buy and sell and feel like they all have a claim on. When I'm not with you, I feel, sometimes, like I'm not real, like there's nothing there but the celebrity. You've always looked past that, always not seen it, and looked beneath, and today, when you sent me upstairs to see those kids, you treated me just like everyone else. I would have done it if you asked, Jack, but you just pushed me into it, and it surprised me so much. It hurt me before I even had a chance to think about what you were thinking, or why you did it."
"Josh, I told you, I couldn't think of anything else to do," I said, shaking my head. "I just, it was the only way. I did what I had to, Josh."
"But that bothers me, Jack," he said. "It bothers me that you can do that, that you can just decide to be like that, and just do it. I can't really understand that, Jack. I don't know how you can treat people like that, no matter how upset you are."
"Because it's not the kind of person you are," I sighed, squeezing him tighter. "And I love you for it, but Josh, you know that I've, you know, that I've been through things you haven't. The way I grew up, and the things I've had to do and go through, it can harden a person, Josh. And I know I don't show that side of myself to you a lot, but I don't show it to anyone, because I don't have to. I love you, Josh. I won't ever do that to you, or treat you that way, and I didn't mean to use you. I know I should have asked you, but there just wasn't time, and I did what I had to."
"I know you weren't thinking about it, and that you weren't rational," he said softly. "I know that you're upset right now, and that this whole thing is affecting you, and that's why you did it. I'm not mad, Jack. I just, I didn't understand. I've opened myself up completely to you, more than I ever have to anyone, and today it felt like it was all a lie."
"Josh, I'm sorry," I said, feeling his strong arms around my back, squeezing him hard with my own. "I don't know what I can say, I don't know how to make it better, but I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry I hurt you."
I felt Josh's heart beating hard beneath his t-shirt, his curved pec pressing against my cheek. His hands were soft, and they slid up my shoulders to my face, his fingers dancing along my jawline as he titled my head up. I stared into his blue eyes, seeing the tears standing in them, only a few slipping down his high, graceful cheeks. My own cheeks were wet as well, and my lip trembled as I stared at the face of the man I loved more than anything, wishing I could do something to take his pain away, knowing that I had caused it. Josh might be willing to believe that I had only done it because I was upset, but the truth was I hadn't thought about him at all, and that was unacceptable. Josh was the most important person in the world to me, and I could never let him be second, because he never did that to me.
"Jack, don't say anything else," Josh said quietly. "I know you didn't mean it, and I'm not angry anymore. Let's not talk about this anymore, ok?"
"No, that's not ok," I said quietly. "I'll never hurt you like this again, Josh, never. I'm not going to just forget about it. If you don't want to talk about it anymore, that's fine, but I'm not going to forget what I did, Josh. I'll make it up to you, I promise."
"Jack, just knowing you didn't mean to, and that you're sorry, that's enough," Josh said quietly. "You don't have to make it up to me."
"Yes I do," I insisted stubbornly. "But we're not arguing about this, ok?"
"OK," he said, hugging me again. We stood like that for a minute, soaking in each other's presence, our heads on each other's shoulders, and then I felt Josh's breath on my neck as he spoke again. "Do you want to go get some dinner?"
"Sure," I breathed, relieved. "Let's go get Andrew."
Over dinner, at a Tex-Mex place we had spotted up the road, Josh asked what Andrew and I had found, and I took the folded sheets out of my bag, explaining what had happened.
"Andrew was a big help," I said, unfolding the papers between us, pushing the nachos and salsa out of the way. "Honestly I probably wouldn't have been able to find this by myself."
"Thanks, Andrew," Josh said, smiling at him. Andrew shrugged, looking almost uncomfortable.
"What's a little lawbreaking among friends?" he asked, smiling a little. Josh's eyebrow went up a little at hearing Andrew call us "friends", when the other day he had explained to us that he saw us as "clients", but he let it pass. I squeezed his hand briefly, to let him know that I caught it, too, and we both smiled. "So what are we going to do?"
"Well, we have these addresses," I said. "The lawyer doesn't open until the afternoon. Maybe in the morning we could, um, maybe we could go to these places."
"Miss?" Josh called, waving the waitress over. "Do you have a phone book we could borrow? Thanks."
When she brought the phone book we looked up the last names, cross checking the addresses. For the newer one, there was still someone with that last name at that address, but the one with the older address had no listing in the phone book. No one in town had that last name, not in the entire phone book.
"Maybe she got married," Josh suggested.
"Or moved away," I said pessimistically. "Look how old the address is. She's probably gone."
"Or just really healthy," Josh suggested hopefully. "And we still have the other one. In the morning, why don't we start there? We'll go back tonight and get a good night's sleep, since it's been such a long day, and then, if you still want to, we'll go try to find Darleen in the morning."
"OK," I said, folding the papers back up. My mom could be Nancy, or she could be Darleen. Or there could be another record lost in the tangled paper morass of that archive room. When we finished our dinner and drove back to the hotel I gave Josh a quick kiss on the cheek before stepping back out into the hallway. "I'll be right back. I need to ask Andrew something."
I'd thought of this during dinner. I wanted to make it up to Josh for what I had done, but I wanted it to be a Josh gesture, a grand romantic gesture, the kind of thing that would let him know how much he meant to me, how deeply sorry I was, and how much I loved him. Since I was trapped in the room with Josh all night, I needed to enlist some help, and it might as well be my partner in crime. When I tapped at his door he opened it with his cell phone in his hand.
"Oh, is this a bad time?" I asked, not wanting to interrupt his call.
"No, no, Jack," he answered, folding the phone closed. "I was about to call someone, but it can wait. Did you need something?"
"I need your help," I said, holding out my credit card.
The next morning I was awakened by a knock at the door as Josh snuggled against me from behind. I glanced at the clock and saw that Andrew had gotten it right on time, so I nudged Josh awake with my arm.
"Baby, get the door," I whispered. They knocked again. "Hurry."
Sighing, Josh pulled himself out of bed and stepped into one of the pairs of pants we'd flung onto the floor the night before. Tugging a t-shirt over his head, he opened the door as I pulled the sheet demurely up to my waist, sitting up in bed. The hotel was one of those outdoor two story block models, with the walkway outside, and sunlight spilled through the doorway around Josh as he squinted at the delivery guy, who was holding a large vase of red roses.
"Josh Chasez?" he asked, and Josh nodded. "These are for you. Have a good day."
"Jack?" Josh asked, turning to me with the flowers in his hand. He was beaming over the top of them.
"I'm sorry about yesterday, Josh," I said, smiling. Josh's eyes started to water, and I knew I'd hit my mark.
"Jack, you didn't have to do," he began, but was cut short by another knock at the door. Opening it, I saw another florist, with another bouquet.
"Josh Chasez? Sign for these, please."
Josh turned back to me, roses in both hands now. Before he could say anything, though, there was another knock, followed by a second before he could even open the door. Josh was speechless as a second, third, and forth dozen roses were pressed into his hands, and I slid out of bed during one of the brief pauses while the door was closed to dart into the shower. Andrew had followed my instructions to the letter, and I laughed to myself as I heard Josh opening the door again. When I sauntered out of the bathroom, my towel wrapped around my hips, I laughed as I saw him trying to lay out clothes for me without knocking over the vases holding twelve dozen red roses. Josh dropped a pair of alligator cowboy boots loudly on the floor as he crossed the room to scoop me up in his arms, crushing my wet chest to his, and I laughed as he lifted me off the floor and spun me around.
"I love you, baby," he said, lowering me to the floor to kiss me. "I can't believe you did this."
"I love you, too, Josh," I said, kissing him back, pressing my lips to his. "And I'm sorry I hurt you, babe. I'll never do it again, I promise."
"I know, Jack," he whispered, just holding onto me. "I know. This is the sweetest, most surprising thing that anyone's ever done for me."
"It was when you did it for me," I said, grinning. "Besides, I thought the makeup sex last night was pretty sweet, too."
"Yup," Josh agreed, blushing a little.
"Don't go shy on me now, Officer Josh," I said, laughing. "I can't believe you packed that police hat."
"I'm just glad those handcuffs didn't bruise your wrists," he said, stepping away. "Why don't you get dressed now, and I'll shower up, and then we can go grab Andrew for breakfast."
"OK," I said, turning to the bed. I could see it was another themed outfit today, but I got dressed without protest. After Josh did as well, though, I couldn't help giggling at the two of us. "We look like extras from 'Hee Haw', Josh."
"I just thought that it might be fun, since we were out west, to look kind of western," he said, smiling, as he took my hand.
We definitely looked kind of western, in our matching painted on jeans and denim jackets. Beneath mine I had a blue gingham shirt, and Josh had one in pink. We had wide belts with shiny silver buckles, mine decorated with turquoise, and cowboy boots, mine the alligator ones I'd seen before and Josh's snakeskin. I drew the line at cowboy hats, wondering how Josh had managed to pack them without them getting crushed or wrinkled, and he looked a little crestfallen, but went along with it. Andrew burst out laughing when he saw us.
"Oh, crap, the gay rodeo's in town and I didn't buy any tickets!" he said, guffawing. I snickered behind my hand as Josh attempted to maintain his dignity.
"They're not that bad," he said, pulling me along toward the car, our arms laced together.
"No, you're right," Andrew agreed. "They just look like you stole them from a photo shoot for your last tour. Let's go get some breakfast, cowboys."
"I prefer the term 'cowpoke', thank you," I said.
"I bet you do," Andrew said, smiling. Josh was blushing now, so I let it drop.
Over breakfast, we avoided talking about where we were going next, which left us without much to talk about. Yesterday I had been all gung-ho and ready to go out and find this woman, but yesterday it had seemed like a game. This morning, it suddenly seemed very real again, and I wasn't sure how I felt. I was starting to doubt again whether I really wanted to do this, whether I really wanted to face the woman who gave me up. Honestly, what right did I have to show up at her door and demand answers? Josh sensed me wavering as I sliced up my French toast, and laid his hand over mine, waving Andrew away from the table for a minute.
"Jack, remember, we don't have to do this if you don't want to," he said quietly. "We've come this far, and if this is as far as you want to go, we can always come back. It's all up to you, Jack."
"I know," I said, staring into his eyes. Just like that, everything I'd done yesterday, everything I'd said to hurt him, was gone, and he was back to worrying about me. Josh was such a better person than I was. "I'm just a little nervous, ok? I just, I'm worried that this is going to eat away at me if I don't face it, but I'm also afraid of what's going to happen when I do."
"Jack, whatever happens, you'll still have me," Josh said, leaning forward to rest his forehead against mine. "We'll still be here, and we'll still be a little family all by ourselves, ok?"
"OK, Josh," I sighed. "Better tell Andrew he can come back over, before his eggs get cold."
"So what are we doing?" Andrew asked, sitting down.
"Well, we have that map of town," I said, thinking of my bag in the car. "Why don't we go find the house, and drive by, and figure it out from there, ok?"
They both nodded, and I felt a little relieved. Neither of them was going to push me, but I was going to have to push myself. When breakfast was over we piled into the car, Josh sitting in the back with me, his fingers laced through mine as I flipped nervously through the pages, helping Andrew navigate. After a few wrong turns, caused more by me not reading the map correctly than by any issues with Andrew's driving, we found ourselves on a quiet side street. The houses were long, low, ranch style, with nice yards. Everything was very well kept, and the driveways were full of minivans and children's toys. All in all it looked like a very nice neighborhood, the kind of normal suburban sprawl that lots of kids grew up in, the kind of place where dad came home from work to see mom and the kids and the dog, and everyone smiled and had a great day. As much as I'd found Bowie creepy, part of me also wanted to live in a place just like that. A place that looked like this. After circling the block once, I asked Andrew to stop across the street from the house.
"Jack, are you ok?" Josh asked, pushing my hair back from my forehead as the three of us stared out the window.
The house was a low, white stucco one story, with a bright green lawn and rosebushes near the door. There was a car, a burgundy station wagon (although in this neighborhood I would be willing to bet it was either "cranberry bog" or "wine red"), in the driveway, but I couldn't tell through the curtains if anyone was home. I glanced at the house next door, and saw the newspaper on their step. There wasn't one on the step of the house, meaning that they were either awake, or that they didn't get the paper. I squeezed Josh's hand, and unbuckled the seatbelt. Josh looked at me, his face neutral, his eyes wide and concerned, as I reached for my door handle.
"Do you want us to wait in the car?" Josh asked, willing to let me play this however I chose.
"No," I said, taking his hand. "Andrew, if you wouldn't mind waiting here. Josh, please, please come with me. I don't want to do this by myself."
Josh looked at our hands, at the silver bands glinting on his fingers as they laced through mine.
"What about, you know, what we talked about before?" Josh asked. "The other night. What about that?"
"I don't care," I said, shaking my head. "I love you, and I need your support. You're more important to me than whatever I'm going to find here, Josh. Please, please come with me."
"OK," he said, sliding out of the car.
Andrew watched carefully as we crossed the street and walked up the sidewalk to the door. My heart was pounding, and I felt a little unsteady, but Josh was right there with me, holding my hand. Swallowing hard, steeling myself for disappointment, I reached out and rang the bell. We heard chimes call through the house, but no one answered, so I rang again. There was still no answer, at least not inside the house, and I felt an urge to start pounding on the door, beating it with my fists. Josh squeezed my hand, and I turned to him, feeling very frustrated again. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I had thought that there wouldn't be much work to this, that the plane would just land and it would be like BAM! There she is! Every time we ran into an obstacle I just wanted to scream. As I opened my mouth, not sure what I was going to say, the two of us froze, hearing a woman's voice call out to us.
"I'm around the back!" she yelled. She sounded vibrant and friendly, and must be very happy and trusting to just yell to a faceless stranger at the door that she was in the backyard. "Come on around the side!"
I took Josh's hand, and we began to walk around the side of the house. I was so nervous that I was shaking, and Josh squeezed my hand tightly as it trembled in his. The effort of just putting one foot in front of the other as we walked along the wall seemed Herculean to me, and I realized that I was holding my breath. I let it out in a long, slow exhale, trying to stay calm as we turned the corner, and saw her, Darleen, kneeling on a pad next to a rose bush. She had on shorts and a nice top, a wide straw hat, and her hands were carefully protected by floral patterned gardening gloves. She was pruning the bush in front of her, snipping off the yellowish pink roses, but there was also a little bundle of flowers on the mat next to her, as if she was going to bring them inside to arrange them. Her hair was all white under the hat, but she had a kind face, and she could be my mother.
"Hello?" she asked, unsure but not afraid, as she looked up at us.
"Are you, are you Darleen Santos?" I asked, not even introducing myself. My voice was a little unsteady, but I was holding it together.
"Yes, that's me," she answered, her brown eyes ticking back and forth between Josh and I. A brown eyed woman could have a green eyed son, I thought randomly. "I'm sorry, but do I know you? You look familiar, but I'm not placing you. Are you boys from church?"
"No, we're not from your church," Josh said. My tongue was frozen in my mouth. "We're."
"Did you have a baby?" I asked suddenly, dropping down to my knees next to her. Josh's hands settled onto my shoulders, just holding them, as he stood behind me. "Did you have a baby boy at the hospital here in town twenty-six years ago?"
"I'm sorry, but what is this all about?" she asked, looking back and forth between the two of us. She leaned back a little, as if debating whether or not we might be crazy, and Josh dropped down next to me, taking my hand again. "Who are you?"
"My name is Jack Springer, and I was born here, twenty six years ago," I said, watching her face, staring into her eyes. "I was adopted, and I moved away, but I'm looking, I'm trying to find out, you know, who I am, and I, well, are you my mother?"
She swallowed, blinking at us, and I saw the answer on her face before she spoke.
"Jack, I'm sorry, but I'm not your mother," she said quietly, and I felt tears spring into my eyes. I don't know why I was crying, but suddenly I was blinking furiously to clear the water, to see her. I blinked as I felt her hand, removed from the glove, touch the side of my face for a second. "I'm sorry. I know this must be hard for you, but I'm not the woman you're looking for. My son, Tommy, lives over on the other side of town. I did have a baby, but my husband and I brought him home with us. I wish I could help you, but I'm not her. I'm sorry, Jack."
"That's ok," I said, as the three of us stood. I turned to Josh and pressed my face to his chest, and I felt his arm curl protectively across my back.
"Thank you," Josh said over my shoulder. His voice was firm, but I could tell that he felt bad for me. "We're sorry to have bothered you."
"It's no bother," she said, holding the bunch of roses in her hand. "Good luck, though. I'm sorry I couldn't help you."
"Thank you, anyway," I said, wiping at my eyes. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm crying."
The three of us laughed a little as she walked us around the side of the house. Later she would probably tell her family, her husband and her son, Tommy, about the odd thing that happened to her this afternoon, about the strange man with no family who had cried in the backyard because she wasn't his mother. They would have dinner, or watch television, or play with her grandchildren, and Josh and I would go back to the hotel alone. Maybe even later she would glance at a magazine from last week, and realize why we looked familiar, and she would tell her family that, too. Whatever happened, she still wouldn't be my mother.
"Do you remember anyone else at the hospital?" Josh asked suddenly. I squeezed his hand in surprise, wondering why it hadn't occurred to me. "Anyone else giving birth? Maybe a woman named Nancy?"
"It's been so long," Darleen said absently, glancing up toward the sky. "It's not the kind of thing you forget, though. There was a girl named Nancy in the waiting room with me, a younger girl. She talked to me for a few minutes, told me that she'd never had a baby before. I don't know what happened to her. I was ready to go, and they brought me in, and I didn't give her a second thought. I'm sorry."
"That's ok," Josh said, hugging me to him. "Thank you so much."
"Yeah, thanks," I said, smiling.
Andrew didn't say anything when we got back in the car, but I think he could read our faces well enough to figure out what happened. If not, he could just guess based on the fact that we'd only been gone for five minutes. He started the car back up as I sighed and leaned against Josh again, and Josh wiped off my face carefully with a tissue, blotting up the tears on my cheeks. Andrew watched us in the rearview mirror, waiting for some directions, but I appreciated him giving us a little space for me to collect myself. I smiled at Josh.
"You know, I never used to cry so much when I was by myself," I said, shrugging. "I guess you're thawing me."
"That can't be a bad thing," Josh said, kissing me on the forehead.
"Guys?" Andrew asked, clearing his throat a little. "What are we doing now?"
Josh looked at me, holding my hand, waiting.
"Let's go to the other house," I said, picking up the map again. It was shaking a little in my hand, and I figured my body had probably just dropped a gallon of adrenaline into my bloodstream. "Drive down to the next intersection and take a right."
It took us a little longer to reach the next address, as it was some distance outside of town. We left the suburbs and the green lawn, and the land got a little dryer. It wasn't sandy desert, like the picture I had in my head of the Sahara, but it was definitely rocky, dry country. The plants were smaller, scrubbier, and everything had a faded, sunbaked kind of tone to it. It was very pretty country, warm and dry, and the horizon seemed to stretch forever beneath the blue sky. I had a sudden urge to be out here at night, to tilt my head back, because I knew the sky would be full of stars here, with the air so clear and the lights of the cities miles away. A light breeze was kicking up as the three of us got out of the car at the next address, and stared at the place where the house used to be.
There were still a few boards, gray and completely stripped of paint, and most of the chimney, leaning drunkenly to the side amid a shock of weeds. The foundation was still there, dark stone, and the tops of it were burned black, although it was impossible to tell how long ago. I walked all around it, stepping down the remnants of the driveway where we had parked, seeing the place that used to be lawn but which was now being slowly overtaken by the native plants, swallowed back into the landscape. Josh followed along quietly behind me, holding my hand, waiting for me to say something, and Andrew folded his arms and leaned back against the car. I closed my eyes and tried to see it, but it was impossible to imagine what the house would have looked like before the fire. There was nothing left.
"Jack?" Josh asked finally, his hand settling onto my shoulder as I stared, trying to see floorboards, wondering if there had been a porch. There was a large tree in the back, with a faded spot on one of the large branches, and I wondered if it had held a tire swing, and how long ago.
"There's nothing here," I said finally, turning toward the car. "She's gone, and we're at another dead end. I'm never going to find her, Josh."
"Yes you are," Josh said, pulling me toward him. I rested my head on his shoulder and felt his arms sliding up my back, trapped between my shirt and the denim jacket. "We'll find her, Jack, we will."
"There's still the lawyer," Andrew said loudly from the car. "He opens in three hours."
Josh and I began to walk to the car. We needed to find something to do for the next three hours, and then we would go to see the lawyer. He would have our answer. He had to. I just wasn't sure, though, thinking about what had happened at the hospital, if he'd be allowed to give it to us.
To be continued.