My Big Fat Gay Life (53 page)

“It’s great to see you again, Sebastian,” I told him, my voice breaking slightly. “I see that living with Justin has rubbed off a little,” I continued, indicating his lack of clothes.

“Nudity is the only thing that’s rubbed off,” I heard Justin’s voice say. “I still can’t get him interested in women, or in being fucked by either man or toy!”

I turned towards the source of the voice and was wrapped in another fierce hug. I returned the hug enthusiastically, and grabbed Justin’s bare butt cheeks. After a few seconds I reluctantly released my grip.

“I’ve missed you so much!” I said to Sebastian. Then I turned back to Justin. “And I’ve missed you too,” I said, staring down at his cock. Justin threw back his head and laughed.

“Have a seat,” Sebastian said. “Would you like a drink? How’s Glasgow? How’s Ian?”

“Whoa!” I exclaimed, sinking into a comfortable armchair. “One question at a time!”

“Well speak fast,” Justin said. “We can’t hide in here forever. I just had to get out of those clothes for a few minutes and have a stiff one. Drink, that is. At least for now.”

“OK,” I nodded. “I’d love a drink. Nutshell version: Ian’s amazing and Glasgow is great!”

“Ha!” Sebastian said, handing me a whiskey on ice. “That was short and sweet. What’re you doing with your time?”

“Actually I’m quite busy,” I responded. “I’m studying full-time to become a lawyer: only have one year to go. I’m also working at an outreach centre that provides free legal assistance to families in need. At this stage I’m just an assistant, but once I have my papers I’ll dive into the deep end.”

“That’s great!” They both cried, enthusiastically.

“Are you happy?” Sebastian asked, a serious tone creeping into his voice.

“I’m beyond happy,” I told him, and I meant it. “But what’s new here?”

“I have an exhibition in a gallery next month, and I’m so fucking nervous!” Sebastian said. “It’s a big deal: a very important gallery.”

“Awesome!” I exclaimed. “You should be proud of yourself. And how about you, Justin? What’s new?”

“Well since Patricia retired, I’ve been in charge of Rainbow’s End,” he responded. “It’s very challenging, but I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“The kids were so adorable during the ceremony,” I told them both. “Kyra managed to keep her dress on! I was impressed.”

“Yeah, I was surprised,” Justin laughed. “Like father like daughter I guess. We have so much trouble keeping clothes on her. Thanks for the birthday present you sent last week: she loved it! She tells everyone it’s from her Uncle Kento.”

“Jack loved the present you sent last month too, but unfortunately he’s already broken it. Such a rough and tumble kid! Definitely doesn’t take after me,” Sebastian said.

A comfortable silence descended, and I studied the faces of my dear friends. Their eyes glowed with inner contentment. I couldn’t be happier for them. It may no longer be home, but it was comfortable, and I knew I was loved.

Apart from children’s birthday parties, this was the first major function we’d hosted at our home since we’d moved in six years ago. The swap had been Donovan’s idea: he and Patricia were to live in Sebastian’s apartment, and Sebastian, Kyra, and I were to move into their house. I resisted at first, but Patricia’s arguments and the local school won me over.

The change of titles on the houses astounded me. Sebastian’s apartment remained in his name, but Patricia and Donovan transferred their house to me.

“I can’t accept that!” I’d exclaimed. “You should put it in Sebastian’s name! Or keep it in your names! Keep it in the family.”

“Don’t be silly,” Patricia had stated calmly. “You are family. Besides, you need your own home. A place you know is yours: a place you never have to leave. Somewhere to raise your family.”

I’d turned to look at Sebastian for support, my face pleading with him to speak up. “Don’t look at me,” he’d said. “I’m on their side.”

The plan had been for Sebastian and I to live our own separate lives in the house: it was certainly big enough for that. However, we’d only grown closer. He was an enormous help with Kyra, and after he’d decided to hire a surrogate and have his own child we’d grown into a happy family.

After Ruth’s death, I’d been devastated. I was furious with Sebastian: both for his overdose while babysitting Kyra, and for his lack of ability to see the despair in Ruth that led to her suicide. However, that was a double-edged sword: I should also have seen the depths of Ruth’s despair, and I should have seen the pain in Sebastian that drove him to drugs.

Sebastian had spent three months in a rehabilitation facility, and I hadn’t visited him: not even once. I was angry, so angry, but I was also angry with myself. Ultimately, apart from a wet nappy, Kyra had been unharmed during her experience with Sebastian. He, on the other hand, had suffered a respiratory arrest from his overdose and died twice on the way to the hospital. He’d spent two weeks in hospital, and as soon as he was released he’d checked himself into rehab. During his three months in rehab he’d sent me several long letters, full of abject apologies.

A shudder passed through me as I recalled the events of that night. After finding Ruth dead in a bath of her own blood, I’d panicked. I had no idea where Kyra was, but reason had eventually kicked in and I’d realised that Ruth would have left Kyra with Sebastian. Since Sebastian wasn’t answering his phone, I’d phoned Patricia who’d gone to his apartment and found him. He’d been unconscious by then, barely breathing. Kyra had been wailing at the indignity of wearing a dirty nappy.

It had taken several months before I could forgive him, and several months before I could forgive myself. Now, we were closer than ever. He was my rock. More often than not, we even shared the same bed. More than a few times over the last six years, I’d wished I were gay. Sex was the only thing missing from our relationship. I guess with kids, emotional closeness, intertwined lives, vast amounts of love, and no sex life between us, we may as well be an old married couple.

I can’t label it. We aren’t lovers, but we’re closer than brothers. Whatever it is, we’re family.

* * *

As we prepared for the wedding ceremony, I noticed Ashleigh standing off to one side. It was time to put her through the Kyra test, so I pulled her aside for a quick chat.

“Whatever you do,” I told Ashleigh, “don’t give her the impression that you’re trying to replace her mother.”

“Of course not,” Ashleigh nodded. She was quite attractive, and she’d piqued my interest enough to introduce her to Kyra. I’d met and dated a lot of women over the last seven years, but rarely did they hang around long enough to be introduced to Kyra. I was always nervous when they met Kyra.

“Just be yourself,” I continued, “and talk to her as you would any other person. She’s seven years old, but going on seventeen. She’s smart, precocious, and she has an amazing bullshit meter.”

Ashleigh nodded again.

“And whatever you do,” I finished, “don’t let her manipulate you!”

The women I date only make it through to the Kyra test if they pass the strap-on test. Ashleigh is only the fifth woman I’ve introduced to Kyra. Most women cringe and flee when I tell them I like to be fucked with a strap-on dildo. Ashleigh had been surprisingly responsive to the idea, and she’d proven herself to be quite adept with it. I gave her a quick kiss and left her to fend for herself in the waters in which Kyra is the shark.

* * *

Later in the evening, Patricia caught my attention by waving at me through the window from the sofa. Kyra was asleep in her lap, dressed in one of Sebastian’s old t-shirts.

“Hey Baldie,” I said as I walked inside. I hadn’t had a chance to speak to Patricia today, but each time I’d seen her she appeared to be having fun. She must have snuck inside with Kyra at some point to get away from the noisy atmosphere outside. I’m sure Kyra had fallen asleep within seconds of lying down.

“I’ll put her to bed,” I told Patricia, kissing her on the top of her head. Patricia stared up at me, her eyes full of love and peace. I smiled warmly at her. What little there was to say between us, was mostly said with our eyes.

Reaching down, I gathered up my girl into my arms. Kyra stirred a little and wrapped her arms around my neck briefly, then flopped back into a loose imitation of a rag doll. As I walked upstairs, she stirred again and her eyes opened slightly.

“I love you Daddy,” she slurred sleepily. “I had a fun night. Everyone liked my dress. After I took it off, I carried it around and showed everyone!”

“I love you too, Pumpkin,” I told her, grinning. We reached her bedroom and I tucked her into bed.

“Ashleigh told me she’s going to be my new Mummy,” Kyra slurred from the edge of sleep. I’d learnt not to worry over that particular statement anymore. I assume another child in her class had told her that if you say that to your Daddy, you’re guaranteed the new girlfriend will be gone within a week. I never believed for a moment that any of the five women I’d introduced to Kyra had actually said that to her.

“But I like her,” Kyra continued. That’s the statement I pay attention to. If Kyra likes them, then there’s potential for the relationship. If she doesn’t, I get them to fuck me one last time with the strap-on, and then they’re out the door.

Gently, I reached out and stroked her hair. It was the same fiery red as Ruth’s, and Kyra had also inherited Ruth’s gentle nose and eyes. For the first year after Ruth’s death, seeing the features of the woman I’d loved and lost reflected in our daughter’s face had been like picking the scab off a raw wound.

Every time Kyra had tossed her head a certain way or given me a certain look, I’d had to suppress a gut-wrenching sob. However, a year or so later, I’d been able to look at my daughter without being overwhelmed by grief. There wasn’t a day that passed in which I didn’t think of Ruth – she was my love, my soul mate, and the mother of my child – but now the thoughts were fond remembrances instead of stabbing grief.

“Good night Pumpkin,” I said softly, kissing Kyra on the forehead. “Sleep well.”

“I already am,” she breathed softly, just as slumber claimed her.

“Oh Darling,” Patricia said, tears welling up in her eyes. “You look beautiful!”

“Don’t you start blubbering,” I warned her sternly, “or you’ll set me off, and I spent hours getting this make-up done!”

We were upstairs in Sebastian and Justin’s room, and I’d just finished dressing. Sebastian was with us, looking very handsome in his tuxedo.

“I wish your Father could be here to see this,” Patricia said. “I can’t believe how much I miss him!” This time, her tears started to overflow. Sebastian quickly wrapped her in his arms, and she started to sob.

“I’m sure Donovan’s around here somewhere,” Sebastian said soothingly.

As I made the final adjustments to my dress, Patricia eased out of Sebastian’s embrace and wiped her face. She handed me a small gift-wrapped box.

“What’s this?” I asked her.

“Your wedding present from the two of us,” she replied. I looked at Sebastian.

“Open it,” he said, nodding at the box.

I pulled open the bow and lifted the lid, exposing a key.

“A key?” I queried.

“To your new apartment,” Sebastian said. “My old apartment, the one Patricia was living in until recently, is now yours and Anthony’s.”

“You’ll let us live there?” I asked in amazement.

“No dear,” Patricia replied. “You can let yourselves live there. We’re giving it to you. It’s yours!”

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. I tried again, but voice eluded me. Sebastian and Patricia just laughed at me.

“We know you and Anthony hate the rental apartment you have, and this place is sitting there empty. We’ll do the paperwork after you get back from your honeymoon,” Patricia continued.

Tears threatened to ruin my make-up again. I tried to speak, but no words came out.

“You’re welcome sweetheart,” Sebastian said, hugging me.

“Right you two,” Patricia stated briskly, after Sebastian had released me from his hug. “Time to get this show on the road.”

I took a step towards the door, and there was a slight tearing sound as my heel ripped through the lining of my dress.