Summer Deceptions

"The guy I saw painting these was named Hal—and he was black."

"Yeah, that would be Henry, the owner of Harry's," Manly said. "You never met the guy who owns Harry's? I know he doesn't go around there much. He doesn't want a lot of folks hereabouts to know he owns a gay club, I think. He owns the land that lighthouse sits on too—the Greenwood lighthouse. And he and his family live close to it."

"His family?" I asked, my spirits taking a dive. I already was getting leery of Hal. He didn't want to meet anywhere but the lighthouse and anytime but on Tuesday afternoons. I wanted what we had to develop further, but he was balking. Guess I now knew why. He wasn't just Hal; he was the Harry of Harry's, as well as Henry, the artist and family man. He always tightened up when I tried to discuss anything beyond the here and now inside that lighthouse.

"Yes. A wife and three kids," Manly said. "Listen, Mike. I'm glad we finally met up. I'll have to confess that I came back because of you. I couldn't get you out of my mind. But when I came back, you were so famous in these parts and I didn't know . . . but you're still playing at Harry's. Tell me . . . are you . . .? There was talk of you and Bud Taylor, for instance."

"Am I gay?" I asked. "Is that what you want to know?"

"Yes, I guess so. Back there when you were in high school, I thought maybe you were leaning in that direction. I thought maybe . . ."

"You thought maybe there could be something between us?"

He was silent for a moment, and then he admitted, "Yes. I'd thought about that and hoped . . . but then they asked me to leave."

"I thought it about it . . . with you . . . back then, too."

He came close up to me. "Tell me. Are you seeing anyone now? I know that Bud Taylor got married a few weeks ago. But, of course, in this day and time that doesn't mean—"

"No, I'm not with Bud Taylor . . . . anymore. That ended some time ago. I'm not with anyone now." And, suddenly, I realized that was true. Hal wasn't who I had thought he was, and, most important, he was married and had kids at home. He wasn't ever going to go beyond Tuesdays in the lighthouse. He didn't want what I wanted. He had every reason to know what I wanted in our relationship and he had deceived me on where he stood on that—and why. Maybe it was time for a change—a big change. Maybe pursuing big black, randy bulls with black cocks wasn't the direction I should be going. Maybe I needed to go back in time.

"You know there's something I constantly wanted to do back there in high school," he said, his voice soft. It was like he was walking on eggshells in moving in closer to me now. He lifted his hand and hovered it near my head, brushing a stray curl back into place. "Back then I was always wanting to run my fingers through your hair. You always kept it long like this, and it's such a catching shade of blond."

"Go ahead, if you want to," I said. And when he did, I closed my eyes and moaned. "Is that all you wanted to do?" I asked.

"No, I wanted to do this too," he said, moving his lips to mine. The kiss was sweet. The second kiss was more passionate.

"Is that all you wanted to do?" I asked.

"No, but I never could hope . . ." he said.

"I often hoped . . . back then," I said. "I have a question for you."

"What?"

"You aren't married, are you? No kids at home somewhere?"

"No. I'm all alone. I hoped someday I might not be. It's why I came back here."

"Do you have a back room? And a 'closed' sign you can put on the door for a while?" I asked, my voice sounding husky even to me.

"Yes. But maybe we should take this slow," he said. "Maybe we should go to dinner and talk about where we are and where we want to go. And maybe a movie afterward. You, know, a proper date."

What a novel idea, I thought. And exactly in that opposite direction of how I usually got it on with a man. Maybe this was the sign I needed to approach this differently. But then again . . .

"And after the movie?"

"If everything works out right . . . and if you want to, we could go to your place or mine."

"If we go to mine, I'll fix you breakfast in the morning," I said.

He gave me a sloppy grin and we kissed again.