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- 02/17/2016
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Toph's Empty Year - 9. Late December
Duality.
The second half of December found my brain fighting with itself. Maybe that’s not completely accurate. It was divided on so many issues, but the two sides appeared to be living autonomously, if not exactly in harmony. It was something like an uneasy truce, living in daylight vs. nighttime; anger with Gary vs. acceptance of the internship; warmth and love of the season vs. the coldness of family; love of Steve vs. his possible betrayal.
. . . . . . . .
Daytime.
Working during the daytime had interfered with my painting hours. I couldn’t paint both at Naomi’s and home and also hang out with Steve at the same time! I only had about 5 hours each night between work and bed.
I was attempting a schedule, which worked well with Steve, but was more difficult with painting. I didn’t like to feel time pressure while painting. I was slowly beginning to understand the Vampire Shift came with many advantages. I also missed seeing Betty and Big Joe. A couple times a week I squeezed in breakfast at Happy’s. I always went there for lunch on Saturday, which was the only time I was able enjoy Big Joe. I never realized how much I missed him.
Whenever I arrived back home from Steve’s in early evenings, I tried to fit in a couple hours of painting before I went to bed. The newest painting at home was becoming Oscar. Once I sensed who it was, I slowed down. I didn’t want to rush because I was still learning his personality. In fact, this fit in with the tighter schedule pretty well. There was no hurry.
When my mind wandered, it often returned to consider how much more complicated my life had become in the few short months I’d lived in New Glory. I was not totally happy with the situation. It was not what I anticipated. Perhaps I had immature expectations. On the other hand, it was such a rewarding complexity. My shields still flared up from time to time, especially around Gary for some reason. OK, I knew the reason. But all in all, I spent most of my life no longer in a defensive posture. In that respect, I was totally happy. Duality--see what I mean?
. . . . . . . .
Internship.
I continued to feel extremely uneasy with that whole Gary/Daddy/Dinner/Proposal. When they hit me with it, I have to admit my mind went in two directions, seemingly simultaneously. On the one side was the obvious resentment of all the string pulling and deception. On the other side was the obvious desire to succeed making it into Abington, which would be greatly enhanced by accepting the proposal.
I had thought back to that evening many times. Would I have done anything differently, if I had it to do over? I wasn't sure. I think what had upset me the most was the subterfuge. The proposal seemed honest and above board. Why didn’t Gary simply explain it beforehand? Did he believe it took Daddy springing it on me to make me accept? Did he think I would have refused his reasonable explanation in the comfort of our living room? These things still bothered me a bit. I suppose I would have to ask Gary sometime. Of course, that would need to wait until I was speaking to him again. Right now, I ignored him as much as possible.
My anger over the manipulation which brought me there had faded somewhat, since interning at England had become fascinating. I was currently in a new department , where I’d been learning to use computer design programs. This department was involved in commercial products for various industries. We were currently designing cleaners for a new boiler installation. The basic cleaners hadn’t change too much since they were invented a century ago, but each new boiler product needed cleaners designed specifically for it.
These products cleaned the soot and other debris collected on the boilers. The boilers were found both in power plants and any industry which needed to generate steam. I never realized how many there were! There were only two other companies in the whole United States who made these things. It must have been a hugely profitable division for England.
Not drawing with pencil and paper felt strange, but the programs allowed one to try many ideas and set parameters for measurements. This must have been a bear of a process before computers! I’ll bet we accomplished in a couple hours what had previously taken a week or more. No doubt about it, I was sopping up information like a sponge. For that, I knew I owed a debt of gratitude to Gary's father. Even if I was never able to attend Abington, I will certainly have learned a great deal.
Once again, I was of two minds. I was grateful to the Englands for this amazing opportunity. Deep down, I realized it was really Gary I was appreciative of. None of this would have happened without Gary. I tried to prevent that thought from bubbling up because my other mind continued to be happy, resenting how it happened. Deep down, I realized it was also Gary I was resentful of. I have begun to wonder if life was always like this.
. . . . . . . .
The Season.
I now had money for Christmas shopping. I tried not to go wild, but I’ve bought presents for each of my New Glory friends, including Betty. It’s a small way to show my gratitude for what they had done for me. I shudder to think how my life would have been were I still living at Dennyheim. My divorce was the best decision I’d ever made. I think my mental maturity has been ten times greater than my physical maturity in the few short months I’d lived here.
Speaking of physical maturity, something unusual was happening to my body. I thought by now I was finished growing, but I was in some sort of late teen growth spurt. My pants were becoming floods and the shirtsleeves were getting shorter. It was weird. Christmas shopping clothes for myself should have been on my list.
December twenty-second was the last Saturday before Christmas. As usual, I had lunch with Big Joe. After giving Betty and Joe their presents, I made them promise not to open them until Christmas morning. Considering our relative ages, it felt satisfying ordering them around like that. It occurred to me if that made me happy, I guess my maturity wasn’t as advanced as I thought--Right?
Happy to say, Big Joe topped anything I could say or do. He told us to hold June twenty-ninth free on our calendars. Yes, they had finally set the date. There were now two weddings this summer. First up will be Big Joe in June and then Clarissa’s in July, or so I’ve been informed through gossip. I’ll definitely be attending Big Joe’s.
. . . . . . . .
When Christmas Eve arrived, Steve and I began our celebration with an early dinner at my apartment. Joanne had requested the same group be present as before. I helped her prepare a large prime rib roast with more trimmings than I thought necessary, but it was Christmas!
It felt like family, the six of us sitting around the table. I think we were sort of becoming a family, even though Gary and I were somewhat estranged. Naomi would be spending tomorrow at Abigail’s with Joanne and Anders. Gary, of course, would be with his family. Steve’s family tradition was Christmas Eve and we would leave for his parent’s house soon after this dinner.
Surprisingly, I had tentatively agreed to take Steve with me to attend the family Christmas dinner in Euphoria tomorrow. I had steadfastly resisted while they were all after me for weeks. It was only when Steve started pressuring me that I caved. None of the Denny’s knew Steve was coming, nor even did they know for sure I was. I never answered my mother’s note. I mean, you didn’t RSVP a family dinner, did you?
Steve grew up in the city, and that’s where we headed for Christmas Eve. I was, as you would expect, pretty nervous about meeting his family. He patiently explained he had been out to his family since high school. Both parents loved and supported Steve. His older brother and sister would be there too.
I was greeted by a hug from his mother and a warm two-handed shake from his father. They both appeared to be lovely folks. I met his brother too. Shortly after we got there, Steve’s sister, her husband and two small nieces arrived.
It turned out to be a very pleasant evening. There was a large tree, adorned with many homemade decorations, which had been crafted by Steve and his siblings when they were children. The family filled the room and a certain love also filled the room. I think his four year old niece was attracted to me, or at least my hair. She kept insisting I hold her, then would run her hands through my hair. I couldn’t understand her attraction until she whispered in my ear that my "Wed haya was pwetty."
Love and Family had never previously entered my mind in the same sentence, the same thought or at the same time. I became slightly schizophrenic this Christmas Eve. On one side of my mind, glowed the love and happiness of the season from the family before me. Meanwhile, the other side shrunk back in fear and foreboding of the sterile atmosphere and animosity we would be facing tomorrow in Euphoria.
We returned to Steve’s that night to make love after exchanging our modest gifts. All in all, it was a perfect Christmas Eve. I was able to completely build a wall around what awaited us the next day. Best of all, I slept in the arms of the man I was starting to fall in love with.
Awakening Christmas morning, we were pleasantly surprised to discover a lovely breakfast being prepared by Merle. Who knew Merle was Julia Child?
We were also delighted to discover silly little gifts for us, sprinkled around the living room and under a small ceramic Christmas tree which he somehow conjured up during the night. Who knew Merle was Santa Clause?
One gift, which particularly tickled me, was a key ring adorned with a small Chevrolet shield. On the back was engraved the name TeAra. When I gave Merle a questioning look he explained.
“In one of our late-night discussions, you mentioned the fact all your siblings’ names began with the letter C. It obviously irritated you. Now Toph, you recently bought a car. Didn’t you realize it was a Chevy Cavalier? You understand we can’t have that, don’t you? So I’ve given your car a new name. It is now Toph’s TeAra.”
“It’s an absolutely lovely sounding name Merle, but what does it mean?”
“It means pathway. It will bring you luck on the path to your future, Toph.”
“Oh my, that is lovely! What language is it from?”
“Maori.”
Who knew Merle was Max Berlitz?
Steve, Merle and I had a relaxing Christmas Day until the middle of the afternoon. It’s when Steve suggested we get ready to leave for my parent’s house. I did not move a muscle, remaining seated on the couch he just vacated.
“Sit back down Steve. We’re staying here.”
“But...”
“There are no buts. There is simply nothing to be gained by exposing ourselves to what’s there. We’re not going. That’s final. Sit back down.”
“We?”
“Well, if you want to go, I’ll give you the address. But Toph’s not going. Period.”
Steve sat back down.
It was likely the second best decision in my life, which I had made while cuddled in Steve’s arms last night.
The rest of the day was warm and delightful. Merle left for Phantomgirl’s house while we cuddled to watch A Christmas Story and the surreal life of Ralphie Parker -- three times, I think. Anyway, I stayed over another night. Oh, and there was sex involved in there somewhere.
. . . . . . . .
December twenty-sixth was a Wednesday. England Inc. was closed until January 2nd, for year-end inventory. I think it was a tradition started by the senior England to give all his employees a paid mid-winter vacation. Gary was still with the Englands; no one was home. I was able to paint that day. That is, until noonish when Joanne and Anders arrived.
They arrived with Champagne, lots of food and two cousins in tow. I suspected this party started the day before and was now traveling to our apartment. No doubt Abigail had kicked them out. I was not sure any of them had slept or ceased eating and drinking from leaving her Christmas table until their arrival at our apartment. The cousins were Penny and Jasper, both in their younger twenties. I think it was somehow explained, but I was not sure if they were both cousins of Anders or of Joanne or one of each or even if they were siblings. Things became a little more festive around here after those four arrived.
This was, of course, the continuation of the engagement celebration, which had begun Christmas morning at Anders’ house. I pretended to be surprised and admired the ring, as if I had never seen it before. I was also the recipient of a number of kisses from Joanne, demonstrating her gratitude for the painting Anders gave her for Christmas. Her kisses became more frequent as both the party and she got more festive. I even had a few glasses of the fine Champagne, but ate a lot too. I did not get festive.
One reason for my staying mostly sober was Jasper. Maybe it was because his inhibitions were down, but Jasper was seriously coming on to me. I couldn’t tell if he was even out to his relatives, whichever ones they were, but he was pretty transparent. That was alright though because I stayed sober. Two drunk gay boys would surely have led to a different outcome. Everyone crashed and burned by nine that evening. I called Steve to make sure he was OK with it, then left to stay over with him.
I did not need a nocturnal visit from Jasper. Upon my arrival, I told Steve and Merle the whole story. We had a big laugh, followed by a few hours of really bad movies followed by a few hours of really good sex. Unfortunately, Steve had work the next morning.
Instead of going home, I enjoyed a two hour long breakfast at Happy’s. I enjoyed Betty’s description of her Christmas, received thanks for my gift, read the morning paper, and acted the man of leisure until I decided it was probably safe to venture home.
By the time I did get home the cousins had thankfully departed. Gary was still not back, Joanne had left and Anders suffered through a hangover which lasted at least as long as his partying, so I guessed it was a draw. I painted for a few hours and then hit the gym, alone for a change. While there, I decided to record a few statistics. I weighed myself, measure my height and also my waist, as it seemed pants weren’t fitting quite right. Of course, most of my clothes arrived in New Glory with me and probably go back to when I was sixteen or seventeen. The very thought reminded me I would be twenty in March!
. . . . . . . .
Steve.
A few days before New Year’s we began making some plans. I was content to spend New Year’s Eve at Steve’s apartment, but he was itching to celebrate. I guess being alone together wasn’t enough of a celebration for New Year’s Eve. I could understand his point of view. I was simply not much of a party guy, but honestly, at the time I had no trouble with his plans at all. I was without experience with this sort of thing, so had no idea what to do. I left it up to Steve. He chose both the restaurant for dinner and club for the celebration, each deep in the city. I’d never been to a 'club' and so was clueless. I assumed that’s how one celebrated New Year’s Eve in our city.
Dinner was a pleasant, laid back affair, although I felt he seemed preoccupied. It was at an informal place and we were dressed in our 'party' clothes. Thankfully, two of Steve’s gifts were a black satin shirt and tight fitting low-rise jeans. Later, it became obvious why he got those for me. This must have been in the back of his mind all along. We took our time and I was lingered over dessert when an antsy Steve rose, suggesting we leave for the club.
I did not realize it was going to be a gay club. It was a good thing for Nico’s perfect fake ID. The bouncers at the door gave it a pretty thorough examination. It’s amazing what Popendropolis money could accomplish. Once we were inside, it took a while to work our way to the bar. The place was packed and getting more crowded by the minute. When Steve ordered Long Island Iced Tea, I decided to go with Perrier. One of us would need to drive. Steve had a couple hours of drinking ahead of him and three glasses of wine behind him.
My premonition became only too accurate as the countdown to midnight approached. The club was jammed, the music loud, the dress a bit erotic, the boys cute and the dance floor jumping. We were dancing, but crushing would be a more apt description. My own body was subjected to extreme tactile examination, and I was sober. Every once in a while the dancing crowd would push Steve and I nearer each other, where I could see his advancing intoxication and intimate closeness with other bodies, one blond in particular.
The trouble with being sober amongst drunks is you think on things they have no worry about. By the time midnight arrived, I was on my third Perrier while Steve’s consumption was impossible to gauge. How he found his way to and from the bar was a mystery to me, but I had noticed him there often.
The countdown was blaring loudly through the speakers as I worked my way toward the center of the dance floor and my boyfriend. He didn’t seem to be looking for me though. It was pretty tough to slowly snake my way toward the target of my desire.
When the New Year arrived, I hadn’t quite made it. It was simply too dense to make much headway. I cursed myself for not staying closer to Steve all night.
But I was close enough to see Steve in a lip lock with that very same, very cute, half-naked blond, who looked even younger than me. Their lips weren’t the only things they had locked together. There was no sense doing anything further, or making a scene. He was beyond inebriated, making all meaningful conversation futile. I turned, then beating off one boy after another, made my way to the bar and another Perrier.
A half hour later, the crowd either thinning or passing out, I managed to extricate Steve and steer him to his car. I took his keys and patiently waited for him to heave-out his guts before helping him in. I had to wake him at the apartment where, upon exiting the car, he had his second hurl of the night. I hoped he was finished or his bed was going to be a mess. The same bed into which I carefully deposited him before I left to go home. I was not going to sleep with Steve tonight. I did not know whether to be angry, upset, worried or disgusted. I chose instead to build a picket fence around tonight.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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