Neither Here Nor There - 8. Chapter 8

Tango

The night’s sleep was fitful. I turned under the covers, the restless movements mirroring my mind as I recounted my conversations with Hudson. Exhausted by the time morning arrived, I gave up on a peaceful rest and decided to take my notebook into the city and sketch whatever caught my eye. I stepped back into the clothes I’d worn the night before, wrinkled from their hours on the floor, and climbed the steps to the kitchen. As I neared the top, I could hear Jenna and Dale cleaning up the detritus of the previous night.

“You actually told him not to come to the party?” Jenna’s question caught my attention.

“I caught him just as he was leaving.” I could picture Dale’s insouciant shrug as I stopped on the stairs to eavesdrop. “I don’t want the guy hanging around, causing problems for Tango. E’s had it hard enough recently from the bigots in the art world, of all places. E doesn’t need to be let down by someone closer to home.”

“I don’t know, Dale. I don’t think you give em enough credit.”

“Hudson?”

“No. Tango. E’s just coming out. I think e’s doing pretty well getting es feet under em. E’s not as fragile as you seem to think.”

“C’mon, Jenna,” Dale’s voice took on that bitter edge I hadn’t noticed until recently. “You remember how Bobby and Frank wanted nothing to do with me once they decided to transition. When we first came out as trans, none of us were going to do the hormones and surgery thing. Next thing I know, all they could talk about were doctors’ appointments and whether their beards were coming in. They hardly even seemed interested in being queer. They were just two more guys with white, male privilege. Heck, I think Frank is dating some straight girl now.

Guys like me and Tango…we’re never going to have that. Tango is never going to be able to move in Hudson’s world. I did em a favor when I sent Hudson packing. And, I’ll make it up to em. The place that gave me a loan to get the coffee shop started, Cathedral Network, they’ll probably do a micro-loan to help Tango with opening night expenses for eir show.”

My stomach rolled as the reason for Hudson’s absence last night became clear. I thought I might puke right onto the top step. If I hadn’t been so angry, I may have done exactly that. Something else in what Dale said tickled my mind, a memory that was just out of reach. At the moment that memory wasn’t important.

Dale spun around in surprise as I burst through the door to the kitchen. I’d never been so close to punching someone in my life. “What did you say to him yesterday?”

“Who?”

“Knock it off, Dale. I heard you talking to Jenna. You told Hudson not to come around last night, didn’t you?”

“Dale was only trying to prevent you from getting hurt, Tango.” Jenna attempted to smooth the waters, but I ignored her, staring at Dale and waiting for em to answer for eirself.

“Tango,” Dale shook es head, “I’m sorry you were hurt last night, but better now than after you do something stupid and fall in love with the guy. It would never work out long term for you and Hudson.”

“You don’t really know Hudson at all, do you? All you have is a bunch of hearsay and presumptions. Turns out you don’t know me that well either. Here’s a news flash. I can handle my personal life, for better or worse, pretty damn well.”

I stepped back from both of them, hands clenched so hard my forearms ached. “Don’t do me any favors.”

Dale didn’t look a bit remorseful, too locked in es point of view to comprehend that what e’d done was wrong. I had to get out of there before I did something stupid like try to beat some sense into em.

I marched toward the front door, trying to pull on my jacket and backpack while I rooted around in the pack’s front pocket for my bus pass. Not the most graceful of exits.

“Tango, don’t be angry,” Jenna followed me into the front hall. “I know it was wrong, but Dale really was trying to help. E wants things to be different for you. Look, e even found all this stuff to help you get some money to finance an opening night. A nice one, with good lighting and catering.”

I didn’t looked at Jenna, still trying to get my arm through the sleeve of my coat as she talked. I could hear the pleading in her voice, and out of the corner of my eye I could see her thrusting papers toward me. I snatched the papers from her intending to scatter them to the floor. At that moment though, I caught the look on her face. She wasn’t crying but her eyes were big, watery. The yelling had upset her. Damn it. Dale should be the one feeling guilty over her tears, not me.

Fisting the papers, I stuffed them in my bag and managed to get out of the house. As I walked toward the closest bus stop, I scrolled through my text messages, looking for any response from Hudson.

Silence.

My only thought now was to get over to his place and apologize. Explain what happened. Collapsing into a seat at the back of the first bus to come along, I mentally recounted the missteps I’d made thus far in this thing with Hudson that didn’t even qualify as a relationship. Walking out after a great night of sex, failing to reach out to him in the days after, an inarticulate 15 minutes in a restroom with him (with one great kiss), sending a stupid text message instead of making a phone call.

I looked out the window of the bus as it pulled to the curb and more passengers boarded. Why did this godawful bus have to make every stop when I was in a hurry? To distract myself, I reached for my sketchbook and came up with the papers Jenna had shoved at me on my way out.

Cathedral Network. Microloans and Peer-to-Peer Lending.

Again, a fleeting memory hovered just out of reach. Where had I encountered this organization before? The answer was there, in the shadows of my mind. Shadows. In Hudson’s loft as I was leaving that morning. Scooping up the mail I had disturbed, I couldn’t help but read some of the envelopes. A number of them had been addressed to the Cathedral Network. .

“Dale, you are such an idiot.” I rested my forehead against the window, cooling my skin. “And, so am I.”

I checked my phone again. Nothing from Hudson. Of course there wouldn’t be. My message last night had more than warned him off contacting me. What he’d done had been pretty romantic and I’d accused him of being a stalker. He’d probably had as bad a night as me. I closed my eyes and started formulating my apology.

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“Tango”

I started. The sound of the waterfall had masked Hudson’s footsteps as he approached. He hadn’t invited me up to his place when I arrived. When the doorman called up to his unit, he told her that he’d come down to meet me. Conducting this conversation down in the lobby of his building set my already jumpy nerves more on edge.

“You came down.” Unlike me, Hudson did mornings well. He looked relaxed, rested.

He did not look like he had spent a sleepless night worrying about text messages. I suddenly felt foolish for coming over this morning. I should have called first. A small hope that he had not checked his phone momentarily buoyed me. “Have you checked your texts recently?”

“If you’re asking whether I received the message you sent last night, I did receive it.” This was delivered quietly, almost without inflection. Hudson gave nothing of his current emotional state away, and I felt more disoriented. This was not how I expected the morning to go.

My carefully rehearsed explanation and apology fragmented. I stood mute, unsure where to start the conversation. I stared at him until Hudson prompted me.

“What brings you here this morning, Tango?”

“Is the Cathedral Network you? Yours? Did you start it up?”

It wasn’t what I had planned to lead with and clearly, it was the wrong thing to say. Storm shutters snapped down over Hudson’s eyes and though he didn’t move so much as a centimeter away, he was instantly impenetrable. He was gone. His personal space was so strong, I was sure if I reached a hand forward I’d be repulsed by an invisible force before making contact.

“Funnily enough, Tango, I took you at your word yesterday when you said you didn’t care about my material wealth. Yet, this is the second conversation in as many days that led off with a question about money. Guess you decided it wasn’t so creepy being stalked by someone willing to throw his money around, huh?”

His lips were no more than thin white lines. “Yes, Cathedral Network is mine. I don’t involve myself with the day-to-day operations, but I started the organization a few years ago with the help of some friends.”

He took a couple steps away from me and then turned back. “You know what’s really odd is there seem to be plenty of people warning you about the dangers of getting involved with me, but no one stepped forward to warn me about what a little mind fuck you’d turn out to be.”

“Hudson, wait, I won’t tell-“

He cut me off with a sharp gesture. “I don’t care what you tell people. Tell them as much as you want. Maybe I should put you in touch with my accountant since you have so many questions about my net worth.”

With that, he pivoted back to the elevators at a brisk walk.

He was walking away from me. After everything that had happed last night, this morning. After everything I had to tell him, he was walking away. A consuming anger propelled me across the lobby after him.

I was peripherally aware of the doorman studiously watching the video monitors at her station and pointedly not watching the interplay between Hudson and me. Just as Hudson reached for the elevator call button I overtook him. “Damn it, Hudson.”

I planted myself in front of him. “I was apologizing to you. You walked off in the middle of my apology.”

“You call that an apology?” Hudson’s ire was clearly fanned now. “All I heard were a bunch of questions. Unapologetic questions. And to think that your unapologetic approach to the world is what caught my eye in the first place.”

He reached around me for the Up button. I raised my hands to block him, and he ended up stepping into me.

“I was getting to the apology,” I pushed his chest, trying to emphasize my point. “I’m not good with words. Sometimes you have to wait. Show some patience. I was getting to the apology when you interrupted me and walked off.”

He looked down at me with those cold-hot eyes I was growing use to. I could see his wariness, and I had no more words. They were too hard. Fisting his shirt with one hand, I caught the back of his neck with the other. Standing on my toes, I brought his lips down to mine in an angry, desperate kiss.