The Arrangement (3 page)

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. It’s Wednesday afternoon; no one’s drinking yet ’cept Jimmy, and he don’t need nothin’.” Vernon joined their regular customer, Jimmy, and sat down to listen to his old friend’s latest complaint against his ex-wife.

Left alone, Reed pulled out his phone, thought a moment, then finally worked up the courage to call his doctor and confess what he’d done. Luckily she wasn’t with a patient and came to the phone immediately. Hesitant at first, he explained what happened and what he’d been feeling.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. It wasn’t the wisest move on your part, but I’m assuming you used protection?”

“Yeah, we did,” he said, the hot flush of embarrassment heating his cheeks. Sex wasn’t something he talked about with anyone; it was something he just did. And not that often. When he was a teenager his hyper behavior put off a lot of kids in school, and being gay didn’t help much either. The girls all thought that meant he automatically liked shopping and wanted to be their best friend, and the few guys he knew who were gay had no interest in his friendship. Almost everything he learned was through the internet until he went away to college and started meeting guys who were more than happy to teach him in person.

“Are you upset about it? He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Dr. Childs’ voice changed from warmly sympathetic to sharply concerned.

“No, not at all. I mean, not unless you consider my pride. I’m upset with myself for letting him talk me into going back to his hotel room with him. Anything could have happened. I’m not usually that stupid.” He tucked the phone under his ear and played with his bracelet. The soothing, repetitive movement helped calm his nerves somewhat.

“Well, sometimes we get caught up in the emotions of the moment, and we forget to think with our head and go with our heart instead. You can come in if you want, but try to learn from the experience. Sex isn’t wrong, and if I’m not mistaken, it sounds like you liked this man, otherwise you would have forgotten about him already. Am I wrong?”

“Maybe. I’m so confused. I don’t know if it’s because I haven’t been in a relationship in so long or because I was lonely and let him take advantage of me. I didn’t feel this way at the time, but now I’m all panicky about it.”

“If he comes in again—”

“I doubt it. This had one-night stand written all over it. And it’s been two weeks and he hasn’t come back.”

“But if he does,” she said—and Reed had heard that tone before from her; it was the sit-up-and-listen-I’m-giving-you-advice-you-need-to-take voice—“and you find yourself still attracted to him, there’s nothing wrong with acting on those feelings, with the caveat to take it a bit slower.”

“Thanks, Dr. Childs.”

It had been smart to call. He had nothing to feel guilty about that night; it wasn’t anything different than what he’d heard so many people talk about in school. Hooking up and finding comfort shouldn’t make a person feel bad about themselves. The problem, as he saw it, was if the man returned, Reed wasn’t so certain he’d be able to resist him.

Drumming his fingers on top of the bar, Reed first focused on calming his runaway thoughts. Once he’d been diagnosed, the doctors had told him to find a way to center his thoughts and gain control of the anxiety that threatened to cripple him. Coupled with his ADHD that made it hard for him to focus for long periods of time, Reed often felt his life stretched out before him as a road full of obstacles, winding on forever but leading him nowhere. Learning to manage what he could and couldn’t do was a way for him to control all the thoughts flying by in his head. Oftentimes he’d want to give up and simply cry.

He’d learned over the years and with hundreds of hours of therapy to channel his energy into being productive. He took painting and drawing lessons when he was younger and filled his house with his creations. After college he took a bartending course and found even with the pressure, the high-energy, fast-paced work fed into his need to keep busy. Despite everything, Reed never overcame his loneliness or the feeling he’d never measure up and never be in control over what happened in his life. Life happened to him.

Being in that hotel room two weeks ago proved his point. He may have topped that man, but Reed was not in control that night.

“You’re an asshole,” he said to himself.

“Now I
know
you’re not talking to me.”

At the sound of his father’s voice, Reed couldn’t help but smile. “Hi, Dad, what’re you doing here?”

“I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by, have a drink, and see my favorite son.”

Sunlight shone off his father’s salt-and-pepper curls. He and his father shared the same straight, strong nose, rangy build, and amber eyes, so Reed had a pretty good idea of what he was going to look like when he got older. Except his father’s nature was calm to Reed’s inner storm.

“The neighborhood, huh? I didn’t know they’d transplanted Brooklyn to Times Square.” Reed placed a glass of 7&7 and a ceramic bowl of salty peanuts and pretzels in front of his father. “And thanks for the title of favorite son, especially when I’m the only son you have.”

His father waved his hand in the air. “A mere technicality, I assure you.”

They shared a laugh, and Reed began to polish the glasses with a clean cloth. The other bartenders hated doing that job, but for Reed it fed his internal demand for repetitive activity and the drive to constantly keep busy.

“How’s school coming?”

“Great. I knew spending summers working in the big hotels in Atlantic City would be beneficial. And here at this bar too; it’s all part of my long-term plan to get a feel for the different skills I’d need.”

Admiration shone from his father’s eyes. “I’m so proud of you, Reed. You know exactly what you want to do, and nothing’s going to stand in your way, is it?”

It wasn’t like the two of them to get all emotional together. A lump rose in Reed’s throat. “I learned from the best, you know? You gave everything to me and never let people tell you no.”

His mother had bailed on their family after Reed was diagnosed early on with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder and anxiety, claiming she couldn’t deal with the stress of caring for a “disabled” child. That bit of information had been gleaned from a letter he’d found one day, stuck in the back of a drawer he’d had trouble closing. Reed figured his father had tucked it away, hoping it would never see the light of day, yet keeping it as the final and only hand-written evidence that his mother actually existed. It had been hidden from sight, but from the well-worn creases, Reed imagined his father taking it out and reading it over the years, then sticking it back in its hiding place more determined than ever to make sure his son had the best life possible, despite his problems. To this day, Reed hugged his discovery to himself and never mentioned finding that letter to his father.

Determined to see him succeed and not be labeled and pushed aside, his father had rolled up his sleeves, and he and Reed did everything together, including school plays, bake sales, and helping Reed get the doctors and therapy he needed.

“Are you dating anyone? Last you mentioned you were in a study group and there might be some guys there you might be interested in.”

That may have been true a month ago, but they all paled in comparison to the stranger he’d had sex with that night. He was the only one on his mind now. There’d been several nights since then when Reed dreamed of making love to him, pushing inside the hot, velvety grasp of his smooth, round ass, and woken up, the dream so vividly real his body trembled on the brink of climax. In all his life he’d never allowed himself to do something so spontaneous, and talking to the doctor he’d now seen that while somewhat foolish, it was nothing to beat himself up over. Still, he couldn’t get the man’s darkly handsome face out of his mind and didn’t know what he’d do if he ever saw him again.

“No, I’m not dating anyone. I decided to make the choice between dating and work, and work won. Plenty of time for a social life once I graduate.”

Most of the time, he and his father agreed on things. From his father’s frown though, Reed knew this wasn’t one of them.

“I don’t understand why you think you can’t have both. You’re young and should be out, living your life, not spending your days studying and nights working. You need some enjoyment. Go out and meet people.”

“Because…” He clenched his hand into a fist and shook his head, unwilling to go into further depths. “Can we not talk about this, please?”

His last boyfriend was back in college—he’d broken up with him over his ADHD, claiming he couldn’t deal with someone who had a “mental problem.” A part of Reed still hurt from the cruelty of those two words Mason had so casually flung at him while heading out the door. Stupidly, in an effort to prove he was normal and therefore good enough, he’d stopped taking his medication cold turkey and crashed about four days later. His sleep pattern became even more erratic, and he could barely concentrate on his schoolwork. Restless didn’t begin to describe his emotional state. He’d pick things up and forget why and put them down, only to pick them up again a minute later.

Only when he came dangerously close to failing a midterm exam did Reed know he had to regain control over his increasingly fragile emotional state. He made the decision to confess all to his psychiatrist and restarted his medication, resigned to the fact it was a lifelong struggle he’d have to learn to deal with. For three years he’d managed, finishing college, finding a job and enrolling in the post-graduate hotel management program.

Now, when guys he met commented on his unflagging energy and late nights of studying, he’d brush it off with a laugh. Whatever restlessness he might still have, he worked off at the gym, and Reed could see the positive results. He’d never had muscles before, and it felt good to be strong, at least physically. He might draw a bit when he returned to his apartment after work or class, losing himself in his sketches. But never again would he entrust and reveal his emotional health to another person. That part of him was not for public consumption; he had no wish to be devastated like that again. Solitude was the safest course for him.

Left by his own mother and then by a man he thought he loved, Reed knew three strikes and he’d be out. However strong he might appear, he couldn’t take another blow.

Giving him a long, hard look, his father took out his wallet, and Vernon yelled from down the bar, “Don’t even think about it, Walter. I told you before, family discount is one hundred percent.”

This was as close to a family as he had right now: his dad and these guys at the bar. Vernon was the only one at work he’d told about his ADHD because he randomly drug-tested all the employees. Reed didn’t want his antianxiety meds to show up on the test and have Vernon think he was abusing drugs for school or worse. He made light of it and never let on how it controlled his life; Reed neither wanted nor needed pity, no matter how well intended. One day he planned to control his illness, not have it control him.

“I’m fine, Dad,” he said quietly. “Really. Let me do what I have to do, the way I want.”

“I always have, but it’s hard to see you alone; you’re such a people person. And I know what it’s like to be alone for too long.”

After he and Mason had broken up he told the whole miserable story to his father and received a stern lecture not only on wasting himself on someone so obviously self-centered, but also on the dangers of not taking his medicine. Reed had vowed to himself if it happened again he’d maintain his privacy and not tell his father, but then became anxious that he’d upset and disappoint him. It was a no-win situation for him, as usual.

“I wish you’d take your own advice then and date.” For years after his mother left, his father concentrated so much on Reed and his issues, there was little time for anything or anyone else. Once he became a teenager and needed less supervision, Reed knew his father had dated several women, but nothing serious enough that Reed had ever met any of them.

“As a matter of fact, I have been seeing someone lately.”

If his father was hoping for a reaction from him, he got one. Reed knew his mouth fell open in surprise.

“Really? Who is she? Why haven’t you told me?”

And from his father’s soft expression Reed instantly knew this woman meant something to him.

“I met Ariel at a cooking class I registered for about a month ago. We were stationed next to each other, and the next thing I knew we were having so much fun, the instructor got mad and told us to leave.” He chuckled. “We ended up having dinner, and we’ve been dating ever since.” He stood and slid his wallet back into his pocket.

“I’m thrilled for you, Dad. You deserve the best.”

“So do you.” The concerned expression returned to his father’s face. “Don’t think I’m going to stop worrying about you because I’m involved with someone. You’re still taking your medicine, right?”

Jesus. He made one stupid mistake; when was his father going to stop being his keeper?

“I’m twenty-seven, Dad, not seven. I don’t need you checking up on me.”

“I don’t want you thinking—”

“I know, I know. I’m taking it, okay? I’ll always need to take it.” Reed could hear the frustration and anger in his voice, and while he didn’t want to direct it at his father, whom he loved more than anything, the well overflowed. “You don’t need to remind me I’ll never grow out of it. I remember what happened when I stopped. I crashed and almost had a breakdown. But I’m stronger now, mentally and physically. I’m never going to let anything or anyone hurt me like that again, so stop worrying about me and treating me like a child, okay?”

Breathing heavily, Reed’s heart squeezed from the distress on his father’s face, yet he owed him the truth. He’d never given him anything less.

“How long have you waited for a chance to tell me that?”

No condemnation, only concern. And that made Reed feel even guiltier.

“A while,” he admitted.

“Good. You shouldn’t hold your feelings in. It’s not a good thing for you.” His father shot him a look. “Or anyone.”

It seemed it was a time for confessions, so Reed decided to be candid. “You as well. I’m glad you’ve met someone. But you held back all these years because of me. It’s your time now.”