The Queen & the Homo Jock King (At First Sight 2)

Not that I understood the finer nuances of fema

le reproduction, of course.

We made small talk until the waitress came over and took our orders (they did not, in fact, have egg rolls or ham. I had a feeling that if I was Tim Curry, I’d damn well get anything I wanted, but alas, I was just a pale imitation. I opted for a Greek salad instead).

There came a moment when Darren ordered a beer and Taylor asked for a glass of white wine when I considered asking for the most alcoholic thing on the menu just to see if being shitfaced could make Andrew Taylor tolerable. I decided against it, just to be safe.

“You don’t drink?” Taylor asked politely as the waitress left.

“Sometimes,” I said. “Just not today.”

“Ah, wanting to maintain a clear head to impress the father,” Taylor said with a chuckle.

Not even close. I didn’t want to take the chance of getting carded, since my ID proudly proclaimed me as Sanford Stewart, male extraordinaire. I couldn’t take the chance of letting the dick out of the bag. That would probably have blown up spectacularly in our faces.

“So what is it you do?” Taylor asked me, and I wondered if I was being interviewed. Taylor seemed very good at playing the role of dutiful father. But then, appearances were everything in his profession.

“I’m a claims adjuster for an insurance company.”

“That’s good work,” Taylor said.

I decided to push a little. “I also volunteer at Wingspan.”

“Volunteer work,” Taylor said. “What a wonderful thing to do. I wish more people would do the same. I must admit to not being familiar with Wingspan. What exactly do they do?”

“It’s geared toward LGBTQ youth,” I said easily. “It gives teenagers a safe place to go to be with other kids their same age that are potentially facing the same issues they do. They also have counseling services for some of the more at-risk kids that go there.” I paused, taking another sip of water, watching the way recognition crawled onto his face. “I’m surprised you haven’t heard of it. It’s the largest LGBTQ nonprofit in Tucson.” I often went as Sandy, though sometimes the little gay boys wanted to see Helena and get makeup tips, and every now and then, one of the girls wanted to know what it would take to be a drag king. Mostly, though, I just went there so they’d have someone to talk to. I didn’t have any counseling experience, but I’d taken my own shit and come out on top. Sometimes that’s all a kid needed to see to know that everything would be okay. Things that happen to you when you’re sixteen aren’t always indicative of how your life will be. I knew that better than anyone else.

“Yes, well,” Taylor said as diplomatically as possible. “Some of these things fall through the cracks, you know.”

“Ah,” I said. “That’s why places like this exist. So those kids won’t… how did you put it? Fall through the cracks.”

“You’re not a lesbian,” Taylor said.

“No,” I agreed. “I’m not.” I didn’t know that I was cool enough to be a lesbian.

“Bisexual?”

“Dad,” Darren warned.

“It’s okay,” I said. “And no. Not bisexual.” Truth, but still deflection. “My brother’s gay.”

“Brother?” Taylor asked.

“Not by blood,” I admitted. “The family who took me in after my parents died. Best friend, brother. Partner in crime. He’s getting married to his partner next year.”

“And you know this brother?” he asked Darren.

“Yeah,” Darren said, sounding remarkably at ease. “Not as well as Helena, but I’ll be going to the wedding with her.”

That was news to me. It should not have made me smile as it did.

Taylor snorted. “Wedding. Got lucky with that SCOTUS ruling, I guess.”

“How do you figure?” I asked.

“They forced the issue upon the rest of us,” he said, as one would when breaking bad news to another. He almost looked apologetic, but it had a bite to it. A challenge. And man, was he challenging the wrong person. He just didn’t know it yet.

“Forced,” I said slowly. “Because if a gay couple wants to get married, obviously that affects everyone else.”