Something Beautiful (11 page)

"And his parents didn't have it easy, either. His dad took a long time to accept it. They've had enough time to get used to it, and the fact that he's with Jamie has really helped, I think, but he'll tell you in the beginning it was not fun."

"Yeah," Micah said even more softly.

"I should probably stop scaring you."

"You're not making it any worse. I'm already terrified."

Dune smiled. "I could kidnap you Friday afternoon. Just tell the girl on Sunday your best friend swept you away for a weekend of debauchery."

Micah sighed and then said slowly, "I can't avoid it forever. I'll go on the date. Maybe it'll be fun, maybe it'll be terrible, or maybe I'll make a friend. And then Saturday let's go apartment hunting."

"Or get you moved into my loft," Dune said, "because you do not need this."

"Do not need and do not want," Micah said, nodding in agreement. "I'd love to live with you. Soon."

"Soon," Dune said, nodding too.

***

Dune saw Micah back to his cubicle after lunch, just as he had the first day Micah interned at the paper, gave him a hug and told him to call if he needed anything, and went to the bank of elevators at the end of the hall. When he'd first met Micah he'd thought him a naïve, young man who had a lot to learn about life. He suspected the rest of their friends still thought so, but he knew better now. Micah knew plenty about life; it was himself that still needed some exploration.

Dune was so deep in thought that he barely noticed who joined him on the elevator when it finally arrived, and only glanced up at the scent of familiar cologne. Gavin used to wear that, he thought -- and realized as he looked into amused, blue eyes that Gavin still wore that.

"At last, we're alone," Gavin said in a mock-seductive tone and shifted a little closer. Dune closed his eyes. Seven years since they'd been in the same room and it still felt perfectly natural to have this rush of heat, this need to touch the smooth skin on the inside of his wrist.

Gavin went on in a soft voice, "You left so fast after the barbeque I didn't get a chance to say goodbye. So I thought I'd grab my chance now -- though I guess this is really more of a hello."

"I had a deadline." His voice was steady, but he couldn't bring himself to look at Gavin. Not yet.

"Yeah, I know how that can be." What surprised Dune most, really, was how sincere Gavin's voice sounded when he said, "So how are you?"

"Fine. I'm just fine." He looked at Gavin directly, feeling overwhelmed by those familiar eyes, that familiar face, lips he'd kissed a hundred times. He managed to keep his tone calm and even. "Why are you back?"

"I was homesick," Gavin said with a shrug. "I missed the ocean. I even missed all the damn fog. I can't believe you're friends with my brother," he added.

"More with his wife, really. Laird's not around much."
Look at us,
Dune thought.
Just talking like it's nothing.

"I've always considered that one of his strong points."

The elevator came to a stop at the ground floor, and as the door slid open Dune said, "This is my stop," and stepped out. " Don't follow me. Goodbye."

"Hey." Gavin stopped the doors from closing with his hand. "Can I call you sometime?"

Dune started to answer, but he didn't know what the answer was. It sounded so innocent, didn't it, just a phone call, and then there'd be a drink, and then maybe a date, and then -- and then it would be right back the way things were, the way he'd sworn he'd never let anyone treat him again.

"No," Dune said and felt a glow of triumph at the surprised look on Gavin's face. "I'd rather you didn't."

"Just a phone call, Dune."

"I can't imagine what you think you have to say to me," Dune said, and walked out of the building.

When Dune got to his car he sat in the driver's seat, his forehead on the steering wheel, for several minutes. When they first met everything about Gavin had been so exciting -- an adventure every day, so much to learn about sex, about being in love, about trusting another person with every part of you.

You fall hard, the first time you fall,
Dune thought, rubbing his hand over his face.
And sometimes you just don't get up again.

He threw the car into gear, pulled out onto the street, and drove to his father's radio station. Leo could make things make sense, no matter what.

Dune announced himself to the receptionist, who waved him past. He took the stairs to his father's office, which was filled with the usual boxes of CDs, promotional T-shirts and posters from record companies, and old issues of music magazines. On the walls were signed, framed posters and photographs of bands whose concerts had been sponsored by the station, but the most prominent picture was of Dune at his college graduation, in a place of honor on top of the stereo. At the desk, his father was leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed as the stereo played.

"Listen to this," Leo said, waving a hand towards the stereo. "Tell me what you think."

Dune cleared off room on the couch so he could sit and propped up his feet on a stack of unopened boxes. Leo had started out as a lowly intern at this station, thirty or so years ago, and had worked at various radio stations around the Bay Area all during Dune's childhood -- only to end up back here, now as the program director.
Nice work if you can get it,
Dune thought, and closed his eyes, too.

"I like the singer's voice. It isn't like anybody else's out there," he said after a few minutes.

"Always a plus."

"And the tune's catchy."

Leo hummed in agreement. "They're a lot more polished than the demo tape I got a few months ago."

"What are they called?"

"The Zogs." He laughed. "Kids these days."

Dune smiled and looked at Leo. "You love it. It keeps you young."

"That and bathing in the blood of virgins." He smiled mildly, looking about as dangerous as a throw pillow. "So what's on your mind, Dunie?"

"Who says there's something on my mind?"

"Twenty-eight years of being your father says it. What's going on?"

Dune planted his feet on the floor and leaned his elbows on his knees. He said slowly, "Do you ever feel like everybody else in your life is moving forward and you're just standing still?"

"Sometimes," Leo said, nodding and watching him.

"I mean, everybody I know is settling down, getting married, getting serious, having kids."

"And if they jumped off the Golden Gate Bridge, would you do it too?" Leo said in an amused tone.

"That's not what I mean. I feel left behind is what I mean."

"You're just wondering what you're missing."

"Something like that." Dune added after a moment, "Daniel dumped me."

"I'm sorry, Dunie."

"And I'm not devastated. I feel like I should be devastated, but mostly I'm mildly annoyed. And I should feel more about somebody I've been sleeping with for three years, shouldn't I?"

"What troubles me is how concerned you are with what you should be feeling rather than what you do feel. We've never wanted you to worry about other people's expectations."

"I know. It's not that, exactly. I'm starting to wonder what's wrong with me."

"Dune," Leo said gently and came around the desk to join Dune on the couch. Leo put an arm around Dune's shoulders and Dune leaned his head against Leo's neck. "Nothing's wrong with you."

"Daniel thought that I was too detached. And he's right. I wasn't involved in our relationship -- I was just kind of there. I should have loved him, but I didn't. I could have been in love with Jamie, but I wasn't. Why do I keep meeting these great guys and not feeling anything more for them than just kind of liking them a little?"

Leo rubbed the back of Dune's head soothingly. "I don't know, Dunie," he said. "I don't know if that's really the problem."

"Jamie said people didn't expect me to care much."

"Nonsense. You care a great deal. But," he said slowly, "I think what's happening is that you expect the lightning bolt when it comes to love, and love doesn't work like that. Lust does, infatuation does -- but love, real love, grows. It doesn't hit you over the head, except maybe when it wants you to notice it."

Dune shook his head against Leo's shoulder. "I want the lightning bolt. I don't want to settle. I don't want something ordinary. I want something amazing, something extraordinary, something beautiful."

Leo chuckled dryly. "Ordinary love is beautiful, Dunie. Love is beautiful just for existing."

"I suppose."

Leo stroked Dune's hair and chuckled again. "Do you want to know what this reminds me of?"

"Tell me," Dune said. He suspected he knew, but he wanted to hear the story anyway.

"When you were seven you had pneumonia," Leo said in his story-telling tone. "And Frances and Ocean wore themselves out watching over you at the hospital. So finally I told them to go home and sleep and I'd stay with you. And you had a fever so high you were hallucinating, and the only way to keep you calm was to get into bed with you and hold you." He kissed the top of Dune's head. "So I did, all through the night, and in the morning the fever was broken and you said, 'Daddy, I dreamed you fought monsters for me.'"

"I remember that, vaguely. Mostly I remember I didn't like the machines."

"I didn't like them, either. Now go away," he said lightly. "I have to work."

"Yes, Papa." He kissed Leo's cheek. "Brunch Sunday?"

"Absolutely."

"Okay. I'll probably have Micah with me."

"That's fine. He eats like a horse for such a tiny thing."

"He throws himself into life, don't you think?" Dune said. "See you later. Love you."

"Love you, too," Leo said, and waved goodbye from behind his mountain of CDs.

At home, there was a phone message from Jamie, to ask him if he'd like to come to a movie night on Saturday, and another from Frances to say they were home from Key West and they'd see him at brunch on Sunday. He called them first to welcome them home, and Ocean promised they'd have lots of pictures on Sunday. "Is Micah home from Europe?" Frances asked when Ocean handed over the phone.

"He is. I met him at the airport. Which I would have happily done for you if you'd let me know when you'd be in."

"We like taking taxis, Dunie. We don't have to worry about meeting anyone and we can just relax on the way home. Tell me how Europe was."

Dune laughed. "Once I go, I will. He loved it. You'll probably see him Sunday: he can tell you himself."

"Oh, good. It was too quiet at our get-togethers without him."

"That's true," Dune said quietly. And here he'd thought he was the only one who noticed Micah's absence all summer.

"And we'll get you to Europe soon. Everyone should go at least once."

"I'd love that. So, hey, I hear you two are planning on moving."

"Oh," Frances said, "Leo gave it away."

"Yeah, he did. When are you thinking of going?"

"When the school year is over. We're thinking of opening a restaurant," she said, her voice perking up with enthusiasm. "Ocean's found a location that needs some renovation, and I'll handle the business end and she'll cook and it'll be lovely."

"That sounds really nice, Mom."

"I think so." Her gentle voice turned even gentler. "Dune. Love child. People do leave San Francisco."

"I know. I don't know why they do, but I know they do."

"Because there are other things to see in the world. Other people to be know. I've lived here since before you were born, and it's time to be somewhere else now. Key West has always felt like home."

"But San Francisco is home," Dune said and hated how he sounded, like a kid wheedling for a later bedtime.

"No, love," she said. "It's just where I've lived. We'll talk more about it on Sunday, okay? I love you."

"I love you, too," Dune said and hung up the phone. He hung up his jacket and took off his shoes, turned on his computer and his stereo, and called Jamie to let him know he'd come to movie night.