I Know What I'm Doing Ch. 03

Carolynn's words had been cutting enough, hearing the same thing from Aiden would kill me. My heart was shattered and I wasn't sure I would ever find all the pieces again.

I let myself out and switched on my phone so I could call Dan. I was grateful that he didn't ask any questions. I said my silent goodbyes to Aiden as I stumbled back down the driveway.

*

I woke up to find a peacock staring at me.

The sight of its fanned-out, colourful tail made me feel nauseous. The longer I stared at it, the more I felt like throwing up. Where on earth was I? And why did the sheets smell so unfamiliar?

I rolled onto my back and was confronted by a cluster of photographs on the opposite wall. Dan and Peter. Yes, of course. The events of the previous day flooded around me and rose to the point where I thought I just might suffocate.

How did the perfection of my day with Aiden deteriorate into something so ugly within a matter of hours? The attraction, the nervous excitement I'd felt around him had been crushed by Carolynn and her 'fuck-me' stilettos. And I was left waking up on Dan's couch, next to a fake peacock.

Just then Dan marched in and cheerily threw himself on the couch, jarring my aching body, "Let's hustle, Mr Gray, time to break up this pathetic pity party."

"Not so loud, please," I winced as Dan swept the drapes open, effectively slicing into my brain with shards of light. "And I might need you to gouge my eyes out... to ease this pain."

Dan's tutting could've been mistaken for sounds of sympathy, but I heard the sadistic satisfaction in his tone. "Bad hangover? Poor Ethan. Now get up, breakfast's ready."

"Dan, did I... say anything yesterday?"

"Anything about what?

"I don't know... anything dumb or embarrassing? Some parts are a blur."

"Nope, not a thing."

I shut my eyes in relief, "Thank goodness."

"You rambled some stuff about cherry tomatoes and lemonade. Then you cursed Carolynn to Hell's outhouse and told us you were in love with Aiden. At some point you were talking to the peacock over there about-"

"Oh, God. I what?"

"I know, right? But I swear it's true. You just marched right up the peacock and started telling it some really terrible knock-knock jokes."

"No, Dan! Don't you think the bit where I said... I said... Oh, God, I told you I love him? How did that not make your list of 'dumb and embarrassing'?"

"You should've heard your jokes. The answer to 'Who's there?' was always 'Aiden' -- and none of the punch lines were funny."

"Shit, what if I told Carolynn? I spoke to her last night, didn't I?"

"Nah, don't worry, you're safe. You gave me a word-for-word rundown of your conversation with the ice queen and you never said a word about it."

"He's going to take her back."

"Aiden? He told you this?"

"No, I figured it out. It's damned obvious, actually. I saw them together yesterday, Dan. She's beautiful and he's going to go back to her."

"Look, I'm not at all sure how true that might be, but now's not the time to try sort it out. Get your butt to the bathroom. There's a new toothbrush and a fresh towel set out for you. Breakfast is waiting, so hurry up. Afterwards we'll go out and help you take your mind off things."

*

The beachfront market turned out to be a lot larger than I'd imagined. Row upon row of stalls beckoned, stocking everything from furniture, books and music to clothing, food and sports gear.

We met up with Justin and Jordan, Dan and Peter's friends. They both had brown hair and tall, slim builds. Upon meeting them I noticed that they shared many common interests and habits; they even completed each other's sentences. It was vile.

I still had trouble working out their relationship, though. Were they brothers, housemates or lovers? No one elaborated and my sleuthing skills were dodgy enough not to be trusted.

Jordan already had an armful of books, even though Justin assured us they'd arrived there only half an hour before us. Crime thrillers, sci fi, horror and one romance novel -- all by different authors. Either the man had a strangely diverse love for reading, or he was schizophrenic.

He saw me blinking at a thick book about Scandinavian cooking and looked down at it then back at me, "What?"

"Uh, nothing. So, you enjoy cooking?"

He looked back at the book again, "No."

"But Lord knows it's time the boy learnt," Justin added.

Jordan frowned but didn't look away from me, "I can make ice cream from scratch, though-"

"-and custard-"

"-so it's not like I'm completely useless. I'm-"

"-just the guy to call when you lose all your teeth in the middle of the next major famine."

This time he did turn to Justin. I laughed. They were such a weird pair. Peter thumped Justin's shoulder and Dan pushed me towards the stalls to check out what was on sale.

"Ignore those two clowns; listening to them for too long is liable to give you a serious migraine."

"I can imagine," I chuckled.

"Don't catch them apart, though, 'cause that's even worse. They're completely unintelligible without the other there to tip the conversation over into a bearable imitation of English."

I had a wonderful morning, much better than I'd expected. Dan bought a hideous, wooden meerkat that he said would look great next to the peacock. Peter paused and nearly dropped the fishing rod he'd been inspecting, but wisely chose not to say a word.

Jordan insisted I get myself something before we left. When I picked out a t-shirt at a clothing stall, he scoffed and turned to the hats. I ended up leaving with a hat that no real business outside a rodeo ring -- only to find that Dan had bought me a hideous ceramic teapot with multi-coloured strawberries painted all over it.

"Something to remember us by when you're back in Cape Town," he stated happily.

He had no idea how vivid those memories would be.

'The day we met... you tasted of strawberries.'

Nor how much they would torment me.

*

We bought lunch at one of the busier food stalls and carried it to the picnic tables at the edge of the market. I'd tried to back out of getting anything, but Dan was hearing none of it. Once seated, I surprised myself by digging in ravenously. The smoked chicken and crunchy vegetables made my taste buds hum; but it was the fluffy pap, melting in my mouth, that made me happiest of all.

It was only when I looked up to find the others watching me in amusement that I realised how little I'd contributed to the conversation. I smiled sheepishly and pushed my empty plate away.

Jordan passed me a bottle of water, "So, Ethan, what do you do?"

"I, uh, built a website while I was still at varsity."

"Wow. What type of site? Do you sell stuff? Or is it educational? Or-"

"-one of those 'no minors', kinky setups-"

"-that Justin can never stay away from?"

"No, uh, it's a social site, mainly a networking hub. I'm not that good with people, never have been. In my second year I created the site as part of a large-scale course assignment. I set it up so that I'd be able to reach my classmates and professors without seeing them directly. And it helped me keep in touch with family.

"And it just blew up?"

I nodded, "My friend, Sam, was a drama student at the time. When he joined most of the other drama students followed. And since the art students shared a campus with the drama students, they heard about it and joined. Next thing I knew, more people than I'd ever imagined were joining, mostly those in creative fields: writing, production, music... and then I started getting calls from advertisers.

"Those students are all successful professionals in their respective fields today. So the site's popularity just keeps increasing; and it's kept the focus on creative production throughout."

When they realised which site I was talking about they were amazed, shooting questions till my head spun. I didn't mind, though. I enjoyed their company and they were doing wonders in keeping my mind off of the wreckage I'd run from at the Montgomery.

"So you're a stinking rich celebrity," Jordan said.

"Well, I don't know about the 'celebrity' bit, but I do have some money."

"How much is 'some'?"

"Oh, very classy, Jordan," Peter interjected.

"Don't act like you're not curious, bud-"

"-because we all are. It's not like we're asking him to-

"-throw out a figure or anything. Just give us an idea, Ethan. Like, will you be-"

"-appearing on the cover of Forbes in the near future? Or-"

"-jetting off to your private island for Christmas?"

I smiled shyly, "I don't own an island. Or a jet. I guess I could buy one, but my car gets me around just fine. Let's just say my grandkids' grandkids won't have much to worry about in terms of money."

"Christ," Justin and Jordan spoke in unison. Even their voices sounded the same.

There was a pause in the conversation that had me fidgeting a little. This was the very reason I'd never buy a jet; money drew too much damn attention. Drawing that much interest to someone like myself was pointless. I started worrying that my revelation would make them act weird around me.

Dan extinguished that concern within seconds, "So do you want any?"

"Any what?"

"Great great great grandkids?"

My ears flamed, "Oh! That was just a timeline thing, it wasn't to say... I wasn't trying to... I just meant that I'm set financially."

"And so is Ethan Gray VII. If you want him, which is the question you still haven't answered. So?"

I ducked my head, "Oh, I can't have kids."

"But there are these fantastic creatures called 'women', who can. In fact-"

"-they do it all the time-"

"-so you could have kids-"

"-if you wanted them."

"Leave him alone, you clowns," Peter, my saviour, stepped in again.

"No, it's ok," I said. "I've never given it serious thought. I think I've been afraid of getting my hopes up. I wouldn't want to do something like that alone, so I'd first have to meet someone."

Jordan's eyebrows lifted, "You mean, there are no current candidates? I find that-

"-hard to believe."

I caught Dan's eye and silently pleaded with him not to say anything. The last thing I needed was a breakdown of why I was an idiot once these guys found out I'd allowed myself to fall for a straight man.

Dan barely met my eyes, but I knew he'd understood. He turned and thumped Jordan's shoulder, "Please, restrain yourself from turning into the matchmaker from hell. I've known you long enough to want to protect Ethan from your haphazard meddling."

"Oh, but there is madness to my method."

"Yes, that's what scares me."

Jordan frowned, "No, wait-"

Justin laughed, "Jordan's madness aside, you're cute, sweet and rich. How hard could it be to pick from the hordes of guys who must be after you?"

A cross between a hiccough and a snort escaped me. The self-derision was clear in my tone, "I am not cute-"

"You're right, bunnies are cute. Beautiful is more the word. It's your eyes mostly; and your lips, I think. You know, you've been turning heads all morning and I don't think you noticed even one of those guys."

I ducked my head, so he wouldn't see how much I wished that were true. "Now you're just making things up to flatter me."

"That's it," Dan stood unexpectedly. "It's getting late. Fortunately, 'Worshipping the Wonder that is Ethan' is a game we can play on the move -- so let's move it, mochachos!"

He was right; it was mid-afternoon already and many of the people who'd wandered the market with us that morning were long gone. We got rid of our trash and gathered our things to leave. I had to help Jordan with his books since he'd bought too many to carry and all Justin would do was laugh at him.

*

"It's a building in which they play music and serve drinks, usually with a dance floor and posh décor and lighting."

I gave up on watching television and turned it off. "I need my laptop."

Dan, beside me, ignored my statement, "There're barmen and DJ's. Some even have VIP lounges."

I slumped back and turned to him, "I know what a club is, Dan."

"Good, then you'll recognise it when we go to one tonight."

"No, I don't think so. I can't go out tonight; I'd be horrible company. You and Peter go and I'll stay here. Is there anyone at the guesthouse that I could call and ask to bring my laptop for me?"

Dan's eyebrow lifted judgementally, "Coward."

"I'd just prefer not to see him right now."

"Not that, bright spark. That I understand. But turning down free VIP entrance to the hottest gay club in town, that's plain cowardice. Your dance moves can't be that bad."

"What dance moves? Besides, it's not that. I'm not in the best frame of mind today -- I don't want to spoil your night out with my funk."

"Oh, come on. You had fun earlier today. This evening will be the same. We'll toss back a drink or two, dance to a couple songs and share some laughs. Jordan will be very disappointed if you don't come."

"He's known me all of two minutes. No, he won't miss me."

"We have witnessed documented incidents in which it took him under a minute to latch onto someone new. Come on, you have to say yes. Justin isn't reliable at all when it comes to clubbing. He'll disappear within the first hour, ruining any chance of the quality time I plan on spending with Peter. You can come keep Jordan company."

"So they're not a couple?"

"Who? Justin and Jordan?!" the laughter seemed to erupt uncontrollably out of him. He leaned over and slapped my thigh. Hard. Then did it again when a new wave of hysterical cackling hit him.

I shifted towards the far corner of the couch, rubbing my stinging thigh. "I'll take that as a 'no', then."

"You'd be right then," Dan gasped, wiping a tear. "Jordan's as straight as they come, man. Those two just share a two-bedroom place. What line were you standing in when God was handing out gaydar?"

"The 'foot-in-mouth' queue. No one else was in it so I think I might've gotten a double dose." No more detective games, for real this time.

"Aw, poor monkey. Hey, you're not the first to make that mistake so don't feel bad. Jordan is actually a perfect example of a fine, gay man -- except for the bit where he insists on sleeping with women, of course."

I lifted my head, "He and Justin are so in sync it's spooky. I really thought they were dating."

"Like I said, you're not the first. Justin's gay, but he's never been interested in Jordan. They've been living together for a year now; and been friends forever before that."

"Oh. So does Jordan join you guys often? At gay clubs, I mean."

"All the time. The boy's weird like that, but we still love him. You have to join us, if only to enjoy one of our favourite pastimes with us: Mackin' Jordan."

"You guys hit on him?"

Another laugh, "No, genius. At the beginning of the night we each guess how many men we think will hit on our straight boy. Whoever's guess is correct or close, wins. And their drinks are on the rest of the group the next time."

The thought was too funny to resist. Maybe going out the guys would be fun. Maybe I'd have a better chance of not curling up in emotional agony if I keep busy and spend my time around some good people.

Considering my alternative was staying in the empty apartment, pretending Aiden didn't exist, I surprised Dan by heading towards the bathroom without further protest.

*

~Aiden~

Sunday was a long, dragging mess.

I awoke at sunrise, propped up in an armchair, back stiff and eyes grainy. Stretching hurt, but I did it anyway. My muscles protested as I made an urgent search for my cell phone the moment the previous day's events slammed into me. Ethan. Ethan...

I found my phone but no calls or messages. I lowered myself back into my chair and reached for the phone on my desk. My jaw was clenched tight enough to make my teeth feel like they'd disintegrate, but I didn't know how to relax it. I dialled Ethan's number from memory only to be redirected to his voicemail. His voice sounded quiet and shy. I slammed the receiver down before the beep.

In the lounge, I found the kids sprawled out on two mattresses from the guesthouse. Kyle was asleep with his head under his pillow, but Melanie was awake and smiling at me. I tiptoed over to her and crouched next to her makeshift bed.

I brushed her hair back and kissed her forehead, "Hey, sweet Melon."

"Hey," she rubbed her fingertips across the tip of her nose the way she'd always done when worried. "Are you in trouble, uncle Aiden?"

"No, honey. Why would you ask that?"

"Yesterday Daddy said everyone needed to have a serious talk with you; and then Gram-Gram was saying swear words after that."

Sharp seven-year-old.

"I'm sorry you heard that, honey. But nothing bad has happened. I've learned some new things about myself and your dad and everyone else were helping me understand it, that's all."

"Oh," her brow cleared up in immediate understanding. "Like Zoe Louw's older sister, Carla."

"Um, ok."

"Yes. Her mommy had to have a talk with Carla when she found out she had new boobies and her period. Do you know what a period is?"

There wasn't a single female in my family who couldn't make me blush. "Well, uhhh-"

"Mommy promised to tell me, but only when I'm a bit older."

Thank you Gods, "Then you should wait until then. It's girl-talk, Melon, and there's no one better to take you through that stuff than your mom. Now try get some more sleep; it's early still. I'm going for a run."

I went to my room to change then set off.

Gym had never been my strong point. I'd tried to match my friends' enthusiasm back when we were all teens, but quickly found that going from machine to machine could be monotonous yet punishing -- not my ideal combo.

I'd discovered running while in varsity, when my roommate dared me to complete the Comrades Marathon. I love a challenge and will try anything at least once, so I'd registered for the following year. Training was brutal and once I'd completed the 90 km run, I'd sworn off ever trying it again. But the love for running remained.

A salty breeze beckoned from my right and my decision was made for me. I set off in the direction of the beach. The rhythms of my feet, heart and breath were in sync and -- were it not for the constant worrying about Ethan -- I would've been content. I pushed the image of his face to the back of my mind and concentrated on the asphalt.

The road I was on gave me a clear view of the beach down below. A memory of Ethan and his ice cream flashed before me and I picked up my pace, hoping to leave it behind. Thirty minutes later I passed the rocky outcrop that separated the public beach from my private piece. It was deserted, as expected, and a broad line of shells glittered along the water's edge. Ethan would like it down there. He seemed to have a thing for quiet corners and serene spaces.

Shit.

I angrily turned my back on the beach and headed in an uphill curve back towards the Montgomery. That man had to be the shyest person I knew. He never showed off; never picked unnecessary fights or played pranks. Never did anything to attract attention and yet I could think of nothing else but him.

The kiss we'd shared two nights ago had awoken something within me. I don't know why I'd gone to him -- besides, of course, the five-year vortex that had tugged that much harder with the knowledge that he had someone in the bedroom with him.

I had stood there in front of his closed door, counting the reasons why I shouldn't tear through it and find him. And then he'd stepped out and stared at me with those bright eyes. I'd kissed him because... I'd kissed him because I couldn't keep away from him.

I picked up my pace, squinting into the morning sun. Sweat was pouring off me and my wet hair flopped across my forehead with every step.

I'd kissed him because his touch calmed me and his presence somehow made me see myself a little clearer. I'd dated many women and enjoyed their company; but this was something incomparable. Ethan filled me. And being away from him... unbalanced me.