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Truth was Phillip probably worried more about his access to liberal interest loans from my trust for his fantasy of running with the big dogs in Charleston. I didn’t trust that he actually cared about my relationship with my father and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out his angle. Much to his chagrin, the shocking scenario at Daddy’s party had unfolded publicly and now he would do whatever he could to make sure I stayed chained in place.
I felt the knife sever the rope that bound us the moment I heard him struggle with the word baby while he held me in his arms at an uncomfortable distance. The tether had been loosening for years and the longer our lie continued, the further away we stood from each other. At this rate, and at our young ages, it wouldn’t be long until the cord could measure our distance in miles. We were doomed.
There was only one way I could expect change to occur in my life and that was if I took control and chose to make the necessary moves to take a different path. Growing up with my father had taught me many things, and one of them was that men like him and Phillip don’t like change. They preferred remaining in well-established lines that led them to the next level of their career successes.
True relations with friends and family were often sacrificed at the expense of their personal goals. They were also quite gifted at convincing their closest loved ones that the sacrifices were necessary if everyone was going to prosper. When in fact, career success and holding ever-expanding and important titles were a selfish act designed for their own egos and had little to do with how their partners felt.
Watching my father’s career had shown me how the path was followed. There were absolute and exacting practices one had to accept once the path to the top was chosen. Failing to kiss a few rings and asses on the way up could secure a spot on the expressway down the social ladder. Phillip feared few things in life, but failing to get to the top scared the living shit out of him. The more I observed the similarities between him and Daddy, the louder the alarm bells.
My father could write a manual on ladder climbing and his disappointment in me was more than just my sexuality. I lacked hiswin at all costsmentality. I wanted my relationship with my spouse and family to guide my choices, not the other way around. To him my attitude was a recipe for failure and I began to believe he would only be satisfied if he could steer me to the top. I’m sure he felt that if I couldn’t get there because of an ability to fight and claw, lie to peers, stab a back or ten, and sacrifice true love for a career mistress, he’d pull me to the highest peaks because he could.
The reality that I didn’t need him or anyone to drag me to the top had taken place a year ago when a trust that I was named as sole benefactor of kicked in at the age of twenty five. Keeping me in the building was more about keeping his eye on my every financial move than it was love for a son.
I often thought Phillip had been born to the wrong father. Daddy and he were cut from the exact same cloth and wore the suits of powerful men comfortably. My father recognized that in Phillip and I imagined if Phillip hadn’t also been gay and fucking his only son, he may have substituted him for me in one of the corner offices of his company.
Ten long years and it had taken me that long to make the connection. Phillip was my father twenty-five years ago. Phillip respected Daddy more than his own father, a fourth generation gentleman with considerable admiration from his peers and family. Phillip’s father lacked the killer instinct that my father possessed, and my boyfriend had spent considerable time trying to woo Daddy with his skills at playing the game.
I’d noticed my father light up on occasion when he spotted the gift in Phillip that I lacked, but he always ended right back at the distasteful fact that Phillip was gay and sleeping in the same bed with his son. That fact did not fit with his sense of propriety and being a man’s man. Phillip could bark up that tree for millennia, but if your last name didn’t match daddy’s, you weren’t riding on his elevator to the pinnacle of success; the seat at the very top as CEO of one of South Carolina’s most admired marketing companies.
So here I was the morning after ruining my father’s celebration, certain that Momma was on her dial-a-thon campaign to cover for me. Daddy was on the golf course acting like none of the shit people witnessed had actually happened.“It didn’t happen if you don’t acknowledge it,”was one of Daddy’s favorite lines as he breezed right past things he found unflattering to his perfectly curated image.
But I didn’t plan on rehearsing and remembering my false storyline any longer. Phillip and my father had lost a believer and neither would take their loss well.
I was a boy when Phillip and I became lovers at sixteen. The crush I had on him and the excitement of having such a good looking boyfriend made up for all the hiding from our families. He was all I wanted from our first kiss when he admitted he liked me. It’s one thing when you fantasize about another boy when you’re raging with hormones, and entirely another when the feeling is reciprocated. I lived and breathed our relationship with zero care concerning its future. But as an adult, there wasn’t enough there to fulfill my needs any longer.
Sure, I’d suffer through a three day weekend on a fancy yacht while a dear friend’s husband fucked around on her. I didn’t like my decision, but I wouldn’t let what was happening to Julia happen to me. I would no longer watch as my father continued his affairs, and I sure as hell wouldn’t be around when Phillip took the next step on his journey to the top. I wanted a real relationship with someone who held my hand and made sure we both rose together in whatever decisions we made.
Phillip and I were good at lying about who we were, so a few more days of the charade would be easy. We would be charming and act like the power couple we had carefully convinced our friends we were. That would be the easy part. The discussion coming on Tuesday morning about the necessary changes I was making, would be less easy, but they were needed for me. I was about to do what no member of an established family ever does. I was going to cut the cord. The one attaching me to Daddy, and the one tying me to a lie.
CHAPTER ELEVEN: Bo
The Crab King restaurant sat alongside the harbor in Port Royal. The building, like so many on Port Royal Island, was gray with weathered siding and moss choking the shingled roof. The residents of the island didn’t care about the exterior condition because the food and the breathtaking view were outstanding. The fact that Marcus Shaw, five-star Chef from Atlanta, had taken over the kitchen five years earlier, forgave any exterior deficiencies.
After fueling up the boat in Beaufort, I motored over to the restaurant on Port Royal Island to sell the catch of the day. I had more than twenty lobsters that Marcus had already claimed when I called him before heading to town. Based on their sizes and the amount of lobsters, it was shaping up to be a four-hundred-plus dollar day. That kind of daily catch would be a strong start for the spring and summer season. The extra bucks were saved for a rainy day and hopefully for the larger boat I dreamed of owning.
I tied my boat to a cleat on the creaking wooden dock and grabbed the large cooler holding the lobsters. Crab King sat directly at the land end of the dock and would be my only stop considering Marcus wanted to purchase my entire catch. I usually went around back and pounded on the metal door to the kitchen where Marcus and I would share a soda and he’d check out my catch. I liked talking with him because he was one of the nicest men I’d ever met.
I met Marcus after Jamie began working at Crab King. Him and I became fast friends and I found him to be warm and friendly. I didn’t have a father like Jamie did and maybe that was why Marcus and I bonded so quickly. I felt good around him and his affectionate ways resonated with me. Jamie was wary and felt Marcus was interested in me as someone other than a friend. I was a minor when we first met and Marcus had never once crossed the line of our friendship. However, after Jamie left for college, I turned to Marcus for comfort and guidance. He did admit to me one evening that he wouldn’t mind if I saw him as something more than a friend.
“I know there’s the age thing, Bo, but I’m hopelessly attracted to you,”he said.“Of course, I know the whole Jamie thing has you upset but I still wished you liked me that way.”
Marcus was correct. I was a long way from being over Jamie and he was too old for me. I couldn’t see myself with someone who was twenty plus years older. I didn’t see anything wrong with age-gap relationships though. In fact, the arrangement worked just fine for my friends Lucas and Perry. I knew Lucas didn’t think guys his own age were attractive. We each have preferences and Marcus wasn’t mine. Once we got that straight in both of our minds, Marcus became like an uncle to me. I depended on his friendship and he’d been there for me during some very trying times. I loved him and I told him so. It just wasn’t how he’d wished I loved him, but I needed him in my life and he said he accepted my love no matter the form.
I slammed my fist hard against the metal door for the second time and waited. The kitchen would be noisy with exhaust fans blowing loudly and pots and pans being slammed around by the many cooks who worked alongside Marcus. Sometimes it would be three or four strong raps against the door before someone answered. I smacked it hard a final time and sat on the bottom concrete step and waited nearly a minute before I heard the lock mechanism engage from the other side. I had my back to the door when I reached for the cooler so I could show Marcus the huge catch I had for him.
I turned around and found Jamie standing two steps above me. He was already sweating from the heat in the kitchen, his hair sticking to his forehead. Restaurant kitchen work was grueling with high temperatures and steam from the stoves and ovens. He looked amazing. His tight white T-shirt under a black apron hugged his upper body to perfection. Even the wetness under his armpits looked sexy. I’d seen Jamie like this many times and I didn’t mind when he was covered with perspiration.
“Hey, Bo,” he said, holding the door open by leaning his shoulder against it. “I just got home yesterday,” he offered even though I hadn’t asked.
“Yeah, Lucas told me earlier.” I didn’t know what to say since we hadn’t spoken since last summer break. He didn’t return for Christmas so we hadn’t seen each other for a long time.
“You’ve gotten bigger in the chest,” he stated. “Maybe an inch or so taller too?”
I’ll admit I enjoyed that he noticed and commented on my growth. “I’m working on my business twice as hard now since you left,” I admitted. “Memaw called it a growth spurt before she died.”
“Sorry I couldn’t get back for the funeral. I know you must be missing her something awful.”
I nodded and turned away from him. The combo of his assessment of my feelings and the fact he hadn’t returned to say goodbye to Memaw didn’t sit well with me. I watched as one of my competitors spotted me standing at the open door. He shook his head and frowned before he turned right and headed for Silver’s Bistro to try his luck there.
