Page 33 of Rhymes with Metaphor

R eg handed his keys to Joel and said quietly, “Get in the car. I’ll deal with this.” He walked far enough away from his car that Joel wouldn’t overhear.

Martin followed him. “Really, Reg? Really?” He sounded livid.

“Neither the time nor the place, Martin.”

“I could say the same to you. In a fucking car park ! With a fucking teenager ! Have you lost your mind?”

“We’re both consenting adults,” said Reg. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“You are unbelievable,” said Martin. “Fucking unbelievable.”

Reg spotted Juliet crossing the lot towards them.

“Let’s talk about this later, right?” said Reg to Martin. He raised his voice and waved, “Goodnight, Juliet.”

Juliet waved, looking puzzled, but Martin conceded defeat and stalked off to join her. Reg made his way back to his car. Martin squealed his tires pulling onto the road. Reg got into the car.

“When you see your sister next, you should probably tell her about us.”

“Why? It’s none of her business.”

“Because if you don’t, Martin will. I’d ask him to keep quiet, but I suspect his loyalty is with her now, not me.”

“Where’s yours?” said Joel.

“You know where mine is,” said Reg, looking at him.

They held hands while Reg drove them home, troubled by the knowledge that the quiet peace they had found together had come to an end.

The next day, Reg got a text from Martin:

Tate’s Coffee Shop, 1 p.m.

Reg arrived at 1:15 to find Martin sitting at a table in the corner, arms crossed, pretending to read a copy of The New Yorker . Reg got himself a cup of revolting coffee and sat opposite him.

“Late, as usual,” said Martin.

“Has Juliet put you up to this?”

“I haven’t told her. I can only imagine what finding out would do to her. She’s under a lot of strain, and half of it’s from worrying about Joel. How long has this been going on?”

“Three months,” said Reg.

“Pounced on him the second we left England, did you? And don’t tell me it’s all right because he’s mature for his age.”

“In some ways he’s considerably younger than his age.”

“That makes it even worse. Juliet didn’t want to leave him behind in England, but I vouched for you.”

“He didn’t need Juliet’s permission to stay in England,” said Reg.

“All along, while you were pretending to care about his welfare, you just wanted to fuck him.”

“I haven’t fucked him, as it happens.”

“I don’t want to know the details,” said Martin. “I can guess what happened. You got him drunk and took advantage.”

“I didn’t know your talents extended to writing fairytales.”

“I didn’t know yours extended to seducing teenagers. Why him, Reg? Of all the people you could have picked—and you have your pick—why did it have to be him?”

“You know I don’t have my pick,” said Reg quietly.

“What does your married boyfriend think of all this?”

“I ended it with him before anything happened with Joel,” said Reg. “And for the record, he was never married.”

“Stop pretending this is all proper and aboveboard. You’re dating a teenager.”

“I don’t know what you’re hoping to achieve by giving me this lecture. Joel is an adult. He can go where he likes and do what he likes with whomever he likes.”

“You need to do the right thing, Reg. And that’s moving him out of your place and helping him find one of his own.”

“That would be convenient for you, wouldn’t it? Then he’d be out of your way—you’ve wanted him out of the way since you met him. He doesn’t want his own place. He wants to stay with me.”

“He’s a teenager, Reg. He doesn’t know anything. He has no sense of perspective and no idea what he wants.”

“He does know what he wants. And I’m the only person in his life who’s bothered to ask him, instead of deciding for him, like you’re doing now and Juliet’s always done.

Don’t pretend your outrage is for Joel’s benefit.

You don’t give a shit about him. Tell me what this is really about, Martin.

Does it bother you that I’m with someone else?

Someone you know and can’t pretend isn’t imaginary?

” Reg waited, watching Martin intently for his reaction, for any trace of jealousy.

“I’m protecting Juliet,” said Martin.

“So,” said Reg, feeling his heart hardening, “all you care about is how this affects your relationship with Juliet. Well, I’ll tell you: It doesn’t. It’s got nothing to do with either of you.”

“It does. Because Juliet loves him, and I love her. You don’t give a fuck about Joel. He’s just some toy boy to you.”

“He’s a human being who I care about,” said Reg. “Nothing you say or do will change that. How would you react to someone telling you to leave Juliet alone?”

“That’s different. For one thing, Juliet and I are the same age.”

“And for another, you’re a man and she’s a woman.”

“That’s got nothing to do with it.”

“Because you’re completely comfortable with that side of things now, are you?”

“I’ll put it on the table now,” said Martin. “Stop seeing Joel, or we’re through. Right?”

“All right,” said Reg.

“All right what?”

“You borrowed my diamond cufflinks last year, along with my grey silk tie. I expect them to be returned.” Reg drained his coffee and set his empty cup down. “It was nice knowing you.” He walked out before Martin could stop spluttering.

––––––––

U ntil now, Reg and Martin had had only two major fallings out.

The first was when they were both seven years old and Reg had accused Martin of cheating at Subbuteo, something Martin had vehemently denied.

Things had escalated, and they’d ended up thumping each other until they exhausted themselves and retreated to their respective homes.

That grudge had lasted an afternoon and ended when Martin’s father took them both out for ice cream.

“You can’t fight and have ice cream,” Martin reasoned.

And though Reg wanted to stick his Cadbury Flake up Martin’s nose, it would have been a waste of a Cadbury Flake, so he’d let things lie.

Their second, more serious falling out happened when they were sixteen.

They had helped themselves to Reg’s father’s liquor cabinet one evening and gotten drunk.

Reg had been in love with Martin for years, but he’d never let on until that night, when Reg had looked at Martin and, overwhelmed with longing, he’d given Martin a kiss so sloppy, he’d missed his mouth by a mile.

And Martin had wiped his face with his sleeve and said, “That was uncalled-for.” And he’d left and hadn’t spoken to Reg for a month.

The incident was never mentioned, but things between them had never been the same.

Reg suspected the incident had contributed to Martin’s decision to go to a different university for his undergraduate degree.

After a year of radio silence, Reg had decided that although Martin couldn’t give Reg what he wanted, Reg’s life was better when Martin was a part of it.

So, Reg had extended the olive branch, and he and Martin had reconnected, and gradually, tentatively, their friendship had been restored, though it was never again what it had been before that kiss.

When Reg got home, he found Joel on the settee reading a book. A sudden rush of feeling overwhelmed him.

“What happened?” said Joel.

“I told him where to go. And he went.”

“You gave up your best friend?”

“For something better,” said Reg.

Joel put the book on the coffee table and went to Reg, and Reg hugged him tight. He didn’t want to let go.

Over dinner, Reg said, “We really shouldn’t be spending so much time alone.”

“Why not?”

“You’ve been neglecting your friends, surely.”

“You’re my friend.”

“Your other friends.”

“I don’t have any,” said Joel. “There were people I studied with, but we weren’t close, and I haven’t kept in touch. We only had school in common. Now, we don’t even have that.”

“That isn’t healthy,” said Reg. “You need friends your own age to socialize with.”

The next day, Reg introduced Joel to M. House, including the small recording studio (currently occupied) and an empty theatre in the basement.

Joel looked at him. “Do you think we could...?”

“I suppose there are less opportune places for an assignation,” said Reg.

They went in without switching on the lights and, after their eyes adjusted to the dimness, they went to the back of the theatre, taking adjacent seats.

“In spite of where we are,” said Reg, “I’m going to have to ask you to try not to bring the house down.”

Reg unzipped Joel’s trousers, and Joel braced his knees against the seat backs of the row in front until they creaked, gripping the back of his seat with one hand and stifling his moans with his forearm across his mouth, until Reg left him limp and sated.

“I must say,” said Reg, wiping his hand clean with a handkerchief. “I’m impressed with how quiet you managed to be.”

“Thanks.”

The first person they ran into on leaving the theatre was Abigail. She did a double take when she saw them.

“Joel?” she said. “Is that you? Holy fucking shit.”

Joel looked bemused. He and Abigail spent a minute catching up before Abigail trained her gaze on Reg. “You’re Reg, right? You were going to make music with Flat Mary.”

Reg had forgotten all about Flat Mary.

“How did that go?” said Abigail.

Reg patted his pockets absently. “I must have lost his card.”

“I’ve got his info.” Abigail dug in her skirt pocket and came up with a Magic Marker. She grabbed Reg’s hand and wrote a website address on his palm, thankfully not the one he’d just used on Joel. “His contact info is on the website.”

“Thanks,” said Reg.

“What are you doing at M. House, Joel? Changing majors?”

“Maybe,” said Joel coyly.

“I’ve never seen you looking so chill. It suits you.”

Reg snickered quietly. Joel’s hair and clothes were still rumpled from the theatre, and he looked relaxed and very pleased with himself.

“The life of leisure becomes him,” said Reg.

Joel laughed.

“See you around?” said Abigail.

“Yes,” said Joel.

Abigail left.

“What did she mean about Flat Mary?” said Joel.

Reg told him the story.

“Do you want me to contact him?” said Joel. “As your personal secretary? I can schedule an appointment for you.”

“I have other plans for you,” said Reg. “Once you’ve recovered yourself, I’ll introduce you to some people.”

Reg was aware that he could have been popular in his program if he’d been so inclined.

He got along with everyone, people enjoyed his company, and he was even fancied by a few and had received many invitations to parties.

But he was a naturally insular type, preferring the close company of one or two people, and allowing them to fill up his life.

If Joel wanted that too, Reg would support him, but he wanted Joel to know what his options were and to choose for himself, not to end up alone because he didn’t know he had alternatives to solitude.

He showed Joel the kitchenette on the main floor, where Reg made them some acceptable coffee, while Joel stood behind him and watched.

“Has anyone ever had sex in here?” said Joel quietly.

“Joel, you just came.”

“Fifteen minutes ago.”

“Your youthful exuberance is appreciated, but there’s no door, as you can see.”

“I don’t really belong here,” said Joel. “I’m not an artist.”

“No one will question your credentials. This isn’t medical school.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Explore some avenues of employment,” said Reg. “Become a contributing member of society, and so forth. Which means hobnobbing.”

Reg led Joel out to the common room so they could have their coffee. Reg introduced him to the people who came by to say hello and included Joel in the conversations that followed. A couple of the students were Joel’s age and one of them gave him his number.

––––––––

J oel’s determination to earn his keep only kept him occupied for so long, as Reg had a finite number of unpublished poems. Within a couple of days, Joel had submitted Reg’s poems in batches to all of the venues Reg had selected.

He also scheduled an appointment for Reg with Flat Mary and insisted on accompanying him, though Reg wasn’t needed for much more than giving his permission to use his poems and to approve the work after it was completed.

Reg negotiated Joel’s contract with Vic to voice his novel, and Vic sent Joel his manuscript to read before the recording. For the next few days, Joel lay sprawled across the settee in Reg’s living room, manuscript on his lap, making notes with the gold pen Reg had given him.

Life fell into a rhythm, with a subtle undercurrent of unease.

Reg didn’t regret his falling out with Martin or the reason for it, but he found himself, at odd moments, missing him terribly.

He and Martin had a whole lifetime of shared experiences, whereas Reg and Joel had only a summer.

A wonderful summer, one of the happiest Reg had ever had, but it was just a few months, and when Reg found himself remembering something from his past, he thought to text Martin, then realized he couldn’t and that Joel wouldn’t understand the significance.

Sometimes, you really did have to be there.