Chapter 51

“So…you’re telling me you’re a prostitute?”

Ted winced. He’d never liked referring to himself that way. “Pretty much, yeah.”

Kenny pulled his hands away from Ted’s. He shifted in his chair looking like he was going to get up to leave.

“Wait, there’s more,” Ted said, wanting it all out on the table, nothing hidden, no more deceptions.

Kenny looked across at Ted, extreme sadness clearly visible on his handsome face. “Go on,” he said, his voice cold, distant.

“I do porn films. Chris was…is one of my co-stars, if you can use that term for us in the kind of videos we make.”

Ted’s last revelation seemed to hit Kenny harder than anything else Ted had told him.

“I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you all of this before, but once I fell in love with you I didn’t want to lose you. Can you forgive me?” Ted scanned Kenny’s face for some clue as to what the man was feeling, but all he saw were tears welling up in Kenny’s eyes.

“I could forgive you…all of it if you had told me. That’s what my faith is all about. But it’s hard to accept that you weren’t honest with me, that you tried to hide it, and worse that you weren’t ever going to tell me that you had this…job and pretend it never happened. That’s not what love is all about, not what relationships are based on. Love is founded on honesty and openness, not lies and deception.” Kenny got up and, without saying another word, walked out the door.

The server came with their raisin-cinnamon French toast and set the two plates down on the table. “Enjoy,” he said. Then seeing Ted was now alone, added, “Do you need a doggie bag?”

Ted looked down at the two plates of food, then up at the door through which Kenny had just left. He shook his head. “No, I don’t need a doggie bag,” he mumbled.

After a few minutes Ted rose, left a large bill on the table, and walked out of the restaurant, Antonio’s world famous French toast left untouched. 18

Ted slowly drove home to the house he shared with Randy. He felt empty. What he’d wanted and needed had been within his grasp, and he’d blown it. If only I’d waited to have sex with Kenny until after I resigned from Morrison. If only I’d been up front and told Kenny the truth, if only, if only, if only. Ted’s mind repeated these thoughts interminably.

Ted hadn’t cried. He was too numb. He had no plan now and no one to turn to for advice. He couldn’t tell Charlie, his old college roommate—not Erik either. They didn’t know he was gay. They wouldn’t understand. How could he explain it to them without confessing what he did for a living? Of course his family was out of the question. Everyone else he knew worked for Trace. Ted already knew where they stood on the issue of relationships.

Ted pulled into the drive and parked his car. As soon as he walked into the house, Dixie came running to him. He picked up the wiggling ball of excitement and carried her to his room. He lay down on the bed and, holding Dixie close, buried his face in her wiry fur. She seemed to sense his grief. She laid still and licked his hand.

About an hour later a soft rapping on the door roused Ted from sleep.

“Ted? You in there?”

Ted sighed. He really didn’t want to talk to anyone right now. “Yeah,” he said and sat up on the edge of the bed.

Randy opened the door and came into the room. Dixie jumped off the bed and greeted him. Randy picked her up.

“Hey, when I got your text that you weren’t coming home last night I figured since you weren’t working you got lucky, am I right?” Randy waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh yeah, I got lucky for sure, real lucky.”

“Well, for someone who got lucky, you sure don’t look very happy. What happened, man?”

Ted didn’t respond.

“Was it that guy that you’ve been seeing that you told me about? The guy you met at that fix the fruit cakeplace that you got a letter from?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Ted said, turning away from Randy.

“Wow, you must really have it bad for him if he can make you feel this crappy.” Randy sat down next to Ted.

Despite the fact Ted had said he didn’t want to talk about Kenny, he found himself spilling his guts to Randy, who, surprisingly, seemed to listen sympathetically. Ted ended with the question, “What do you think I should do?”

Randy put a hand on Ted’s shoulder. “You can try reaching out to him, emails, phone calls and see if you can get him to understand. But…”

“But? But what?”

“But, if you want my honest opinion, religious gay guys who want to keep themselves square with God, are bad news. And this guy seems to be one of those.”

Ted sat up and asked, “What do you mean?”

“Look, I’ve been with guys like that. You have sex with them. The sex is great. Then after they shoot, they’re all remorse and drama. They try to sell you on repenting and becoming a gay Christian. Honestly, if you look down the road with this dude, can you see yourself being able to live the kind of life he’d expect you to? You two are too different. He’ll probably always be churchy. He’ll expect you to be, too, and you’ll get sick of that pretty quick.”

Ted furrowed his brow, trying to envision what Randy was describing.