Yes (25 page)

“Hmm.” Quentin thought for a moment. “You need someone there who he trusts. Someone whose reputation is irreproachable. Someone like Ben.”

“I saw them talking last night. Do they know each other?”

“I think they worked together on some fundraising event for one of the gay groups in town.”

“Would Ben do it?”

“He will if I ask him,” Quentin said. “Call Bartley and set something up for tomorrow afternoon. Do it here at La Tazza. Once you have a time, let me know, and I’ll talk to my brother.”

“Okay, thanks. Are you sure this is the right thing?”

“It’s the only thing. How are you going to explain never seeing Ryan again? Or the surgery your mom never had? You can’t start a relationship based on lies. You have to come clean.”

“Okay. I get it. Join your friends, and I’ll bring the drinks out.”

Quentin walked away, and Ryan pulled out his phone. He dialed Bartley’s number and waited. He picked up after three rings, and Ryan asked if he was free the next day. Ryan explained that he wanted Bartley’s advice on something, and they arranged to meet at two in the afternoon. Ryan relayed the time to Quentin, who exited to the patio to call Ben. A few minutes later, Quentin returned with a thumbs-up.

T
HE
NEXT
morning, Ian called Mark and told him about the plan to spill his guts to Bartley. Mark warned that he should be prepared for the worst, but Ian explained he had no other choice. Ryan tried to stay busy at La Tazza during the day. Finally, at a few minutes before two o’clock, Bartley walked through the north door and waved at him. Timothy covered the counter while Ryan took two drinks out to Bartley’s table.

“A double skim, right?”

“Correct,” Bartley said, imitating Ryan’s Jeopardy Pursuit MC Voice.

Ryan sat down. “Very funny. Ben Walsh is going to be joining us soon.”

“Ben? What for?”

“There are some things I need to tell you, and they’re going to sound a little crazy. Well, actually, they’re going to sound a lot crazy.”

“What things?”

Ryan spooned some milk froth into his mouth. “There’s no other way to do this except straightforward. When Ian went to Denver for his fortieth birthday, he bought a chocolate kiss laced with a special kind of pot called Manick Butter. He ate the kiss before he boarded the plane back to Austin. While he was on the plane, he took a nap and woke up twenty years younger. In other words, me. He woke up as me. I’m Ian.”

Bartley blinked. “I don’t understand. Your uncle was on a plane, and you body swapped with him?”

“No, it wasn’t a body swap. The real Ryan Parker is ten years old. I’ve just been playing him because…. Well, because I didn’t know how else to explain my circumstances.”

“But Ian’s in Phoenix. I’ve been talking to him on the phone.”

“No, you’ve been talking to me.” Ian dropped his voice. “Sound familiar?”

Bartley scooted his chair back. Ian knew he couldn’t absorb this kind of information in the span of a few seconds. Bartley shook his head and said, “Why would you play such a sick joke on me?”

“It’s not a joke,” Ian insisted. “I woke up on a plane twenty years younger, and I had no idea what to do.”

“Did you hit your head or something?”

“No, I’m not crazy. This is really happening.”

After a long pause, Bartley pushed his latte away, stood up, and turned toward the door.

A voice behind them said, “Don’t go yet.”

Ian swiveled in his seat. Bartley stopped and said, “What are you doing here?”

Ben Walsh stepped up to their table. “Sit down and hear me out. Please.”

“What do you have to do with—?”

“I’ll explain everything. Why don’t the three of us have a seat together?” Bartley hesitated for a second but then returned to his chair. Ben pulled up a stool and joined them. He turned to Ian. “What have you told him?”

“Everything.” Ian looked at Bartley. “I don’t blame you for wanting to leave. I would leave too.”

“What have you done with Ian?” Bartley asked.

“Nothing. I told you, I’m Ian.”

“And you expect me to believe that? Chocolate makes you younger? That’s your explanation? It’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. And you, Ben? Are you going to tell me you believe him?”

“No, I’m not. Look, I’ve had some bizarre conversations in my life, but this one takes the cake. Ryan or Ian or whatever your name is, I don’t believe you, and I’m not going to advise Bartley to believe you either.”

“Thank you,” Bartley said.

“But for some unknown, godforsaken reason, my brother Quentin does believe you. Bartley, that’s something I can’t ignore. So I’m going to ask you, if it turned out that Ryan or Ian was telling the truth, would that change anything?”

“There’s no way you could ever convince me of that.”

“What if I told you there’s a remedy?” Ben said. “Ryan is flying to Denver tomorrow, and when he comes back, he claims he’s going to be Ian again.”

“So what’s the con here?” Bartley asked, turning to Ryan. “You get on a plane, and two days later, Ian shows up? Do you think I’m an idiot?”

“No,” Ben said. “That’s why you need to go with him.”

Bartley and Ian both looked at Ben and asked, “What?”

“That’s the solution. It’s the only way to prove whether or not Ryan’s telling the truth. Bartley, go with him to Denver. Be there when he eats the kiss, be there when he falls asleep, but most importantly, be there when he wakes up. I would never suggest this if my brother hadn’t vouched for him. But Quentin can see things the rest of us can’t, and just because I don’t believe Ryan doesn’t mean he’s not telling the truth. I had a conversation with my dead father once. There’s more to the world than we know, Bartley, and if you don’t go with him to Denver, you may end up regretting it in ways you can’t even imagine.”

Bartley paused. He stared at Ian, then turned to Ben and said, “You’re both nuts. Ben, I didn’t expect this from you.”

Bartley got up and walked out the door.

“Go after him,” Ben said.

“He doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“You’re wrong. I’ve been where you are right now. Trust me. This is the most important moment of your life. Plead your case. Tell him how you feel. Hurry, before he gets away.”

Ian ran out of La Tazza and into the parking lot. Bartley had just reached his Jeep.

“Please,” Ian said. “I made a wish, and it came true.” Bartley stopped, so Ian continued. “I wanted to go back and do it all over again. I thought being twenty-one and HIV negative would make you want me. So I didn’t say anything.”

Bartley turned around. “You’re negative?”

“As Ryan I am, but that’s not me anymore. After I eat the white kiss, I’ll be poz again. And forty. I’ll be who I really am.”

“White kiss? Do you even hear yourself? And what about Matthew? The whole time you’ve been talking to me on the phone, you’ve been sleeping with him?”

“No, I haven’t. I slept with him once, the night before you told Ian how you felt. And if you’re going to beat me up over every guy I had sex with before that conversation, then I won’t try to stop you. I’ve had more than my share of sexual partners, and some of them were mistakes. But I’m not the man I was yesterday. I wouldn’t even advise you to date that man. But this guy—the one inside the guy standing in front of you—I’m worth it. I know what you’re thinking. You’re wondering, what’s the difference between me and Mason? I don’t know. Maybe I’m a monster too, except telling the truth was more important than holding onto you, and that’s got to count for something. These past few days, every time we talked on the phone, I had trouble breathing afterward. That’s how much I love you, Bartley. If you can find a way to forgive me, I’ll spend the rest of my life earning your trust. And I’ll never, ever lie to you again. I promise.”

Bartley didn’t say anything. Instead he shook his head, jumped into his Jeep, and drove away.

T
HE
NEXT
morning, Ian packed an overnight bag for his trip to Denver. He had no doubts about his decision, but Ryan owed one person a good-bye at least. Before lunch, he drove to La Tazza and went inside. Matthew smiled at first, but then his expression changed when he saw the serious look on Ryan’s face.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’ve been off for two days, and I didn’t want to bother you. My grandmother is better. Ian’s coming home, and I’m heading to the airport soon.”

“Soon? What do you mean, soon?”

“In about an hour,” Ryan said.

“You’re joking, right? Why didn’t you call or text me?”

“I’m sorry, it happened so fast. That’s why I’m here. To say good-bye.”

Matthew’s eyes filled with panic. “Where are you going?”

“Thailand. I have some friends who are island hopping, and they want me to join them. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I’m not ready to settle in one place yet.”

“You’ve been here for two weeks. I’d hardly call that putting down roots.”

“I’m not the right guy for you, Matthew. I think deep down you know that. I really want to say good-bye as friends, but if you can’t, I understand. You’re an amazing guy, and I’ll never forget you for as long as I live.”

Matthew didn’t respond, and Ryan added, “Would you say good-bye to Sam for me?”

Matthew nodded, and Ryan turned to go. He was halfway out the door when Matthew said, “Wait.”

Ryan stopped.

“I can say good-bye as friends,” Matthew continued. “And you never know—maybe our paths will cross again someday. Thanks for teaching me how to drive a stick. I’ll never forget you either.”

Ryan turned his head and smiled. Then he left La Tazza for the last time.

I
AN
WENT
home, and as he waited for his cab to the airport, the doorbell rang. When he answered it, he found Bartley standing on the front porch.

“Let me get this clear,” Bartley said. “You went to Denver as Ian, where you bought a chocolate kiss, and you ate it before you boarded the plane home. You took a nap, and when you woke up, you were twenty years younger and HIV negative?”

“That’s pretty much the long and short of it.”

“And now they have a white chocolate kiss that will put you back the way you were?”

Ian nodded.

“But you don’t have to take it, right?”

“No.”

Bartley rubbed his forehead. “Is someone forcing you to be HIV positive again?”

“No. No one’s forcing me to do anything.”

Bartley had tears in his eyes. “So you have this chance to start over—to go back and be young a second time. To have a clean slate. Nothing but endless possibilities. And you’re going to give all that up? For me?”

Ian was done being a “no” man.

He smiled and said, “Yes.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

I
AN
WOKE
up when a flight attendant brushed his arm with the beverage cart. He looked down and saw age spots.

He turned to Mark and shook him. “Wake up.”

Mark jumped and lifted his face mask. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“I just had the trippiest dream ever. I was twenty-one years old and HIV negative again. Oh my God, it was so real, but you won’t believe how badly I fucked it up.”

“Was I in it?”

“Of course. You told me it wasn’t a hallucination because I could read from a book.”

“Where did I get that idea from?”

“You said you saw it on
Teen Wolf
.”

Mark laughed. “That should have been your first clue, right there. I don’t watch
Teen Wolf
. You do.”

“I became my nephew Ryan and…. Oh, no. I had sex with Matthew, my newest employee. Oh my God. I’m such a perv. And the three of us had the most random conversation about porn. You and I created an elaborate backstory about my mom having surgery, and I talked to Bartley on the phone, pretending to be Ian in Phoenix.”

“Who’s Bartley?”

“The architect. He blew off Ryan because he was into me. Can you believe that? He told me he’s poz too and that he likes older guys. He wanted to have sex with
me
, not a negative twink. The whole thing was total fantasy fulfillment.”

“That Manick Butter sounds like some good shit.”

“It’s an anagram,” Ian said.

“What is?”

“Manick Butter. It’s an anagram for ‘turn back time.’ You’re the one who figured it out.”

“What else happened?”

“I met a rock star named Topher Manning, and I had a glass of milk in his kitchen at two o’clock in the morning. It was one of the coolest moments of my life, even if I made it up. He introduced me to his kids and told me this story about some Shakespeare play. That’s when I started thinking, ‘None of this is real.’ Then, when no one answered anything wrong during Jeopardy Pursuit, I knew something was off. In hindsight, it makes perfect sense. If I was dreaming, why would I make up questions I didn’t know the answers to?”

“How did it end?” Mark asked.

“The plotting got very bizarre. Ben Walsh showed up and tried to help.”

“Ben Walsh? The lawyer?”

“Don’t ask. It had something to do with his brother, Quentin. At that point, the whole thing was just one big narrative mess. Except….”

“What?”

“I liked myself again,” Ian said. “I told Bartley the truth and put my heart on the line and it felt good. Just before the dream ended, he showed up on my porch. I was heading to the airport, and I think he was going to forgive me.”

“I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time.”

Ian thought about it. “You’re right.”

“Worth the hundred bucks, then?”

“Every penny. I feel more awake than ever. And so thrilled I didn’t actually sleep with Matthew. Can you imagine the sexual harassment suit?”

Mark put away his pillow and eye mask. “Not to mention your spot on the sex offender’s registry.”

“But the best part is, I never actually lied to Bartley. It’s like another clean slate. I will never lie to him. Ever.”

“Well, I wouldn’t get my hopes up if I were you. Remember, it was just a fantasy. Chances are, he
is
into negative twinks.”