My Father's Lover Read online

  “In the shower,” Sandy replied.

  “Is he all right?”

  “He’s trying hard.” Sandy looked at Jason, so sweet, so young, and obviously in love with Anthony. He wondered if Anthony and Jason had slept together. It was quite obvious that Jason wanted Anthony. Who in the hell wouldn’t? He was gorgeous. Sandy couldn’t help but feel a little threatened by Jason. He was here with Anthony in this house, while he had to be on the road.

  Before Daniel was killed, he was sure that Anthony’s feelings were changing toward him. When Anthony came home to be with Michael, the distance between them put a stop to whatever might have been developing. Now it seemed as if it was strictly friendship between them again. Michael had clung to Anthony after Daniel died, and Sandy knew that Anthony felt obligated to be there for him. Now, Sandy wasn’t sure what Anthony intended to do. Although it was pure selfishness on his part, there was now the faintest hope that Anthony might come back to the band, and they could pick up where they had left off.

  He just hoped Jason wouldn’t take advantage of this situation, making Anthony feel like he had to look after him as well.

  “Anthony needs me right now,” Jason said, meeting Sandy’s gaze. “Don’t worry. I’ll be here for him after you leave.”

  “Hmm. And I’m sure you’re more than up for the task.”

  * * * * *

  Anthony spent the next few days getting everything prepared for Michael’s service. Sandy told him he would cancel a few of his gigs in order to stick around for awhile. Anthony was grateful for that. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have a good support system, but it was good to have someone around who wasn’t constantly breaking into tears every time Michael’s name was mentioned. Sandy had always been his good friend. He was like a brother, really, and right now he wasn’t sure what he would have done without him.

  Just two days before the funeral, Anthony got a call from Michael’s lawyer. He came home so pissed off he could have broken every piece of furniture in the house.

  “What’s wrong?” Sandy asked him as soon as he came in the door. Sandy and Jason were sitting together in the living room, watching television. Sandy threw Jason the remote and stood up.

  “I saw Michael’s lawyer today.” Anthony sighed.

  Jason came to stand beside Sandy.

  “He contacted that little bastard in New York.” Anthony went on, slamming his car keys down on the sideboard. “He has to be here for the reading of the will.”

  “Michael left that shithead something?” Jason squawked.

  “Apparently,” Anthony replied stiffly. “The lawyer asked me if I could have someone pick him up at the airport tomorrow. Seems now that there’s money in the equation, Junior has decided it’s worth getting his ass here.”

  Before the two men could say anything else, Anthony stalked out of the room.

  Jason looked at Sandy. “He’s not staying here, is he?”

  Sandy shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  A few minutes later, Ron and Juan showed up. They had been at the house often the last few days, as had Hollio and Karl. Jason made coffee and Juan leaned over to Sandy and said, “So how is our boy doing?”

  Sandy liked Juan. He was very Spanish, and he was the most beautiful woman when he was made up. Ron was a huge black guy with this very high voice that sounded so sexy when he sang.

  “He’s been so busy with everything. Right now he’s upset about Michael’s son,” Sandy told them.

  “Michael’s son!” Juan made a face. “I know who you’re talking about. He’s one of those nouveau fags…the ones that believe the only acceptable fag is the one who appeals to straights, the one no one suspects is gay.”

  “Probably --” Ron laughed. “-- keeping up appearances.”

  “So he’s not coming?” Juan mocked. “We already knew that. He never did come to L.A. although Michael sent him a ticket once. Poor Michael, that boy just about broke his heart.”

  Sandy made a face. “He is coming. That’s what Anthony is upset about.”

  “Oh,” Ron said, looking shocked.

  Juan looked surprised too. He pushed back some of his shoulder-length black hair and looked at Ron.

  “Well, Anthony is exactly the type of fag he’d approve of.” Ron joked. “He’s the macho, masculine type that blends into the crowd.”

  He looked up suddenly to see Anthony standing there. Ron got up and went to put his arms around him. He kissed him on the lips softly. “You doing all right, honey?”

  Anthony smiled at him faintly. “Sure. So I’m the acceptable fag, am I?”

  “Sweetie,” Juan interjected, “you know Ron didn’t mean anything by it. You’re our alpha male, baby.”

  Anthony laughed. “I’m not insulted.”

  “Besides, sweetie, that was what Michael loved about you. You were such a contrast to his flamboyant nature. You reminded him so much of Daniel.” Ron started to cry. He wiped the tears away. “Sorry, honey. I loved Danny so much. Now that Michael is gone…” He blew his nose. “So, why is this kid coming at all? He never cared about his father before.”

  “Hubert called him, Michael’s lawyer.”

  Juan shook his head. “Why?”

  “Because Michael put him in the will.”

  “Why in hell would he do that?” Ron gasped.

  Anthony shrugged. “I don’t know, but could one of you go pick him up tomorrow at LAX? I can’t do it.”

  Jason was back in the room now. He turned soft blue eyes to Anthony. “Is he staying here?”

  Anthony nodded. “I can’t very well expect him to stay in a hotel. He is Michael’s son.”

  Jason came closer, and touched Anthony’s hand. “You’re his son too, and don’t you forget it. You’re the one who stayed with him after Daniel died, remembered his birthdays, and…”

  Anthony smiled at him. “Thanks, Jason.”

  Sandy rolled his eyes.

  Anthony left the room.

  Ron looked at Jason. “You’re looking to get your heart broken, kid. If Anthony wanted you, he would have jumped you by now. Get a clue.”

  Jason shook his head. “It’s not like that.”

  “No?” Juan mocked. “Tell us how it is, honey?”

  Jason sighed. “He needs me right now.”

  “Um…yeah, he needs, all right, and do you think a fuck or two is going to make him forget that he’s lost the two most important people in his life within two years of each other?” Ron demanded.

  “You stay out of his bed, Jason,” Juan cautioned, sounding like a mother.

  Sandy looked at Jason now too. “That’s good advice.”

  “Mind your business. You’d all jump at the chance to get into his bed and you know it.”

  No one said anything, and that said volumes.

  “So who gets to pick up the snooty fag with attitude tomorrow?” Ron asked, breaking the silence.

  Everyone looked at Juan. “Oh no!” Juan shook his head. “Not fair.” He sighed. “What time does the little asshole come in?”

  “Two o’clock,” Sandy said.

  Juan nodded. “He doesn’t like cross-dressing fags, eh? Well, let’s give him a time to remember tomorrow.” He giggled. “Maybe I should show him how a real fag grooves and change his attitude!”

  * * * * *

  Michael pulled on jeans and a white tank top, and grabbed his short beige leather bomber jacket. He loved this jacket. It was worn out just enough to look cool. He threw his flight bag over his shoulder and got into the car.

  His mother said nothing all the way to the airport which suited him fine. He couldn’t believe that his estranged father had left him anything, given the fact that he didn’t even know him. Maybe he was trying to compensate for not being around.

  When they arrived at the airport, his mother asked him, “Aren’t you nervous?”

  “No, Mom, I’m going to have a little vacation out in L.A. for a few days, go to a funeral, and maybe inherit enough money to pay my way through s
chool. I’m feeling really optimistic. Besides, it will give me the chance to hit a few gay bars out in L.A. and check out the men.”

  His mother frowned. “Be careful. Michael…”

  “Mom, relax.” Michael grinned, kissed her and got out of the car. “I’ll see you next week, as soon as I see the lawyer.”

  “And what about your father’s lover? How will you…?”

  “Look, I’ll be decent to the old queen, okay? Don’t worry. I’m not nervous about meeting him.”

  * * * * *

  When his father started writing him once he turned fourteen, he told him about his lover in his letters but overall, mention of him was brief. He couldn’t even remember what he’d said his name was. They were in business together, some kind of a club that his father performed in, dressing up in women’s clothes, and lip-synching songs. It was quite ridiculous, but his father always wrote about it as if he were proud of it.

  On the plane, he closed his eyes and tried to sleep but he was distracted by the guy sitting across from him. Before the flight was over, he had given him a blow job in the bathroom. When the flight landed, they said a brief goodbye, and went their separate ways. Now, that was an excellent flight.

  After arriving at the airport, he picked up his luggage and looked around. He assumed someone would be there to pick him up. Suddenly he saw this person dressed in a bright purple dress with a blond wig, heavily made up. It was quite obvious that it was a man. He was holding up a sign that said, “Welcome to L.A., Michael.” Everyone was staring at him.

  Good God, Michael thought; that was him? Well, what did he expect?

  “Hi, I’m Michael…” he began uneasily.

  “I know! I know!” the man screamed loudly, grabbing and hugging him. “You look just like your dad. Welcome to L.A., Michael, I’m Juan.” He gave him a big kiss on the mouth. “Come with me. Your chariot awaits.”

  “Come on. Don’t do that, man,” Michael protested. “Have some respect, my father’s been dead less than a week and you want to…”

  Juan looked at him. “That shouldn’t bother you, honey,” he said coldly. “Come on, let’s go to the parking lot and find the car.”

  Michael strolled along behind Juan, trying to keep a respectable distance from him.

  Suddenly, in the parking lot, Juan pointed his key to a red corvette.

  “This your car?” Michael asked, whistling.

  “I wish.” He laughed. “It’s a loner.”

  “Kind of a macho car for a candy-ass queer like you.” Michael met his gaze boldly.

  Juan grabbed his bag. In a deeper voice, he said, “You got balls there, kid. I’m almost twelve years your senior and I guarantee I could whip your ass.”

  Michael blinked, the change in voice tone throwing him for a minute. He shrugged and said, “I could do your ass, sweetheart.”

  Juan began to laugh.

  “What’s so funny?” Michael demanded, getting into the car.

  Juan started the engine and looked at him. “Honey, I was getting my ass done good on Fire Island when you were still shitting in your diapers. Don’t make any promises you can’t keep.”

  Michael fell quiet. After a few minutes on the road, Michael asked, “So where did you and my father meet?”

  “We met on the circuit. We worked the same clubs,” Juan said, keeping his eyes on the road. He had met guys like this kid before, uppity little queers who thought they were God’s gift to men. If only he didn’t look so much like his father. It was almost hurtful to look at him. Handsome little bugger.

  “So that’s when you decided to shack up? How long were you together?” Michael fiddled with the radio.

  Juan slapped his hand. “I like that station.”

  Michael placed his hands in his lap. “So how long did you and my dad know each other?”

  “A long time.”

  “You must have made one hell of a sight. Did you actually go dancing together in drag?” Michael howled with laughter.

  Juan glared at him. “What in hell are you talking about?”

  Michael stopped laughing. “Sorry.”

  There was silence as Juan drove.

  Michael looked out the window. “So how’s the nightlife in L.A.?”

  “Well, there are the bars and the baths. We all hang out at a place called Heaven. You should check it out while you’re here. It’s nothing like New York.”

  “So, you still go to these places?” Michael looked at him.

  “Of course, why not?”

  Michael laughed. “So that’s the kind of arrangement you had. I got the impression it was like a marriage.”

  “Marriage?” he echoed.

  “You and my dad,” he repeated, putting on his sunglasses.

  Juan laughed. “It felt like we were married sometimes, especially in rehearsals. Your dad was a real slave driver.”

  They turned onto Marsden Road

  . They said nothing else until Juan pulled to a stop in front of the massive house.

  Michael whistled. “Wow, this is some house.”

  Juan threw him his bag.

  They walked in together and the first thing Michael saw was this half naked boy walking around in a bathing suit…sweet looking with blond hair and blue eyes. Michael smiled at him. “Hi, there. You sure know how to decorate the place.” He glanced at Juan.

  Jason gave him a cool look. “You must be Michael.”

  “And you are…?” Michael inquired, coming closer. He held out his hand.

  “Jason,” he replied coldly, ignoring the outstretched hand, and walked out of the room.

  Michael stared at him until he disappeared. “He yours?” Michael asked Juan.

  Juan laughed. “Not so far.”

  “Did you and Dad share him or something?”

  “Me and your dad?” Juan narrowed his eyes. “I think you’ve mistaken me with…”

  Before he could finish, another man came into view. He was wiping his face on a towel and wearing navy nylon shorts and a white tank top soaked with sweat. He was the most beautiful man Michael ever seen. He couldn’t take his eyes off of him.

  Jason was there again, a hand on one of the man’s muscular biceps. “This is Michael,” he said, tossing his head in his direction.

  Michael came closer. He smiled. God, whoever he was, he was sexy as sin. He had to have that. “Hi.” He ran his gaze over him, making no attempt to hide his interest. “Call me Mike. Christ, if I knew the men out here looked like you, I’d have come for a visit.”

  “Really?” the man replied in a deep voice, lifting a dark eyebrow.

  Michael nodded. “Oh, yeah. Where have you been all my life, baby?”

  The man’s gaze met his, brown, beautiful eyes filled with sudden fury. “You want to know where I’ve been all your life, Mike?”

  Michael narrowed his eyes, not sure where the sudden hostility was coming from.

  “Most of your life,” Anthony responded softly, leaning closer, almost touching his lips with his, “I’ve been here with your father. I’m Anthony. Welcome to L.A.”

  Michael paled. “I…I’m…sorry…I mean…I…didn’t know who you were. Dad liked them young, didn’t he?”

  Anthony’s face changed. “Pardon me?”

  “I thought his lover would be a bit older and…”

  Juan laughed out loud.

  “I’m not your father’s lover,” Anthony muttered. “I’m his son.”

  “Son?” Michael’s eyes widened. “What in hell do you mean by son? Dad had another…son?” Oh my God, was this guy his half-brother?

  “Adoptive son. Michael’s lover’s name was Daniel. Daniel adopted me when I was a teenager.”

  “I…I didn’t know that,” Michael said uneasily.

  “How could you?” Anthony bit back bitterly. “You never came out here to see your father.”

  “Where is ah…Daniel ?” Michael looked around, then, glanced at Juan.

  “He died in a car accident two years ago,” Anthon
y told him.

  Michael fell silent. Then he said, “I didn’t mean to…well…”

  “Come on to me like that? It’s all right, and so appropriate.”

  Michael looked down. Adopted son? Damn, his father had deserted him and then went and made himself a new family. How fucking convenient!

  “Now listen to me,” Anthony was saying gruffly. “You can stay here until we see the lawyer, but you keep the fuck out of my way. Is that clear?”

  Michael nodded. “Sure, whatever.”

  “And you better had brought a suit with you, because you’re going to the funeral.”

  Michael looked up at him, and blinked. “I haven’t decided yet if I…”

  “You will be there, because he was your father. And if he was good enough to leave you money, he’s good enough to have his son present at his service.”

  “He was a drag queen who disowned me when I was born, and from the looks of it, he went out and got himself a new kid.” Michael burst out. “I didn’t owe him anything, but he sure as hell owed me.”

  Anthony’s face tightened. “Michael tried to contact you. He wanted to know you, but it was you who…” Anthony broke off.

  Juan came over and placed a hand on Anthony’s arm now. “Hey, come on, honey. Your temper is showing.”

  Anthony took a deep breath, lowering his voice. “You will be there by my side at that funeral for your father’s sake. After we visit the lawyer, you can leave. We never have to lay eyes on each other again.”

  “Suddenly you’re in charge. You weren’t even his blood.” Michael scoffed.

  Anthony glared him at him, then turned, and walked out of the room.

  “I’m supposed to show you where you’ll sleep,” Jason announced suddenly.

  “What are you, the house boy?” Michael mocked.

  “No, I’m not the houseboy,” he replied sarcastically. “Michael and Daniel took me in awhile back.”

  “They sure as hell liked collecting pretty little boys, didn’t they?” Michael walked up the stairs to the second floor.

  Jason shot him a dirty look. “Fuck you,” he muttered, leading him to the room on the end.

  Michael laughed. “So where does Mr. High and Mighty sleep?”

  “He has a name. It’s Anthony, and he sleeps down at the other end. And don’t be getting any ideas about comforting him in the middle of the night ’cause…”