Under the Stars and Stripes (Under Him)

We hang up and I run flustered up-and-down the stairs with totes full of clothes that are still packed from when I moved them here from my old place, boxes I never got around to opening, and trash bags full of miscellaneous crap that I had no time to pack properly because eviction notices tend to drop down on you like a cartoon piano onto some unsuspecting, animated pedestrian.

When I’ve finally got everything moved down into the foyer, there’s a knock at the door and those butterflies seem have just snorted little lines of coke in my belly because they’re bouncing all over the place now.

“Hi,” I tell Simon, as I open the door for him to come inside.

“Don’t mind the mess and dust,” I say as I look around my father’s Grey Garden’s in disrepair. “Dad’s been trying this new method of dusting and cleaning where he gets really drunk first, and then he… well… that’s actually the whole method.”

Simon laughs and looks at my stuff, which all fits perfectly in the foyer with room to walk past it still.

“Is this everything?” he asks.

“Well… I mean, we’ll have to stop at the stables to get Chestnut, my Thoroughbred,” I tease.

He cocks an eyebrow at me as if he’s not sure whether I’m joking.

“Just kidding. Yes, this is it. I mean, except for my furniture and stuff, but that’s all in storage and I’m pretty sure you don’t want a temporary house guest redecorating your home anyway.”

“You don’t know that,” he says. “This whole thing could be a ruse to get you to come redecorate my man cave because I’m too afraid that if I hire a professional decorator, he’ll be gay, and I’ll be so impressed with his work that I’ll fall in love with him.”

“Ohhh, yeah. That totally makes sense,” I tell him. “I hate to break it to you, though. You’ve kind of moved past the ‘submissive bottom’ stage of your life and into the ‘gets a teaching job to sleep with a student and end of the subject of a Lifetime movie’ stage.”

“Oh, well thank you. I never get my stages right. I always mean to when I get my tarot done, but it’s not listed on the menu, which makes things tricky to remember.”

“Oh, yeah…” I tell him with a smile before snapping back into reality. “Well… as fun as this bit is that we’re doing, we really need to get the fuck out because my dad is sort of a loose cannon and there’s really no telling when he’ll be home.”

Simon looks at his watch.

“The workday has literally just started.”

“Yeah, but bars start opening at noon, and that sometimes takes precedence.”

So, the two of us gather my things and load them into the back of his big Ford truck. Then, before I forget, I run back inside and look around the family room, where my dad and I last fought.

And sure enough, just as certain as Sarah was that it would still be where I left it, it is. There’s the original $200 on the coffee table where I placed it the other day, only now there’s a sticky ring from the bottom of a beer bottle impressed on it. Then I look to the floor and find the $140 still scattered there from when I threw it down in fury.

I scoop up every last dollar, then step out the front door without bothering to lock it behind me.

“Shouldn’t you lock that?” Simon asks.

I shrug and look back at the door.

“Meh. Who knows? Maybe the Fates will send some drunk criminal down our street today looking to burgle another drunk and my dad will get a taste of what it’s like to have some mean alcoholic take everything that you have when you’ve really already got nothing to offer.”

Simon walks back up the sidewalk to my side and puts an arm around my shoulder, which feels nice (just ask the butterflies).

“This too shall pass…” he says, which is what all old people say when they’re presented with someone else’s problem that they don’t know how to fix.

But at least he’s touching me…

* * *

Simon’s house is vastly different from my father’s, but it’s certainly not the man cave I would have sworn he was being serious about before.

No, his Cape Cod style house is sophisticated… almost ritzy. When he said we’d be the only two here, I thought maybe that that could still be a little much, with us being on top of each other at work already, and then here at home.

But this place looks like it has more than enough spaces— wings of space— for the two of us spend time in private if need be.

“You like?” Simon asks me, as we step up to the ground floor from the garage beneath.

“I didn’t realize you and Tony were this successful…”