Memory, p.5
Memory, page 5
At about 2 a.m. people started to pack it up and head home, one van load at a time. He was dancing with Teresa again, contented, almost satiated with the pleasure of being surrounded by people he cared about, and with the woman he loved in his arms. He had danced with most of the women there, he’d thought. He would have danced with the men, but none asked him. He frowned. Did they truly not have any gay men on staff right now?
Yes, they did — in the writing staff, he thought. But probably not anyone who knew he’d be receptive to being asked. That almost made him sad. If he’d realized it earlier, he would have sought them out. Although he’d noticed that the band members had found dance partners in between sets, and some of those had been male-male couples. He grinned. He made a mental note to think about sexual diversity in the senior staff. People thought you had to choose between diversity and expertise — but Ryan disagreed. In fact, as the Death of a Downtown project had demonstrated — again — it was impossible to have expertise without diversity.
Kevin came up to him around 3 a.m. “We’ve got this,” he said. “We’ll see you for the bonfire at noon?”
Ryan nodded. He was actually footing an expense budget for this party with Kevin. He wanted to enjoy it, and Kevin could hire people to do the logistics. And at noon tomorrow, he and his closest friends and advisors and mentors would burn all of the sexualized art they’d pulled out of this place, much of which featured him in the starring role. He was burning all his grandmother’s diaries, and even his father’s journal. All of it in one big bonfire.
And damn, he thought, he didn’t have to worry about a 3-year-old waking them up at 6 a.m. either. He grinned. He took his wife home and to bed.
Chapter 6
10 A.M., MONDAY, JUNE 7, 2021, Matthews’ home, SE Portland — Teresa had class at PSU, and Ryan had Rafael. They read together for a while, and then Rafael was content to play while Ryan worked on the final papers for his two classes. He was contentedly doing the research.
His phone rang, and he glanced at it. Vic Ruiz?
“Hi, Vic,” he said. “What’s up?”
“Are you busy? Can I come talk to you?” He sounded stressed.
“Sure. I’ve got parenting duty this morning. Come by.”
Ryan frowned, shrugged and went back to his paper. Critical race theory vs. conflict theory. He was arguing against the perception that critical race theory was rooted in conflict theory. And if he didn’t end up convincing himself he was wrong; he was almost done.
There was a knock on the door, and Ryan called “come in,” too comfortable to get up and answer the door.
Vic let himself into the house, and Rafael laughed happily. Vic squatted down to get his hug — and Ryan thought he looked like really did need a hug — and exchange hellos with the boy.
“Have a seat,” he invited. “What’s got you looking so stressed?”
Vic shook his head and paced the small living room instead. Ryan closed down his laptop and focused on the man.
“Vic?” he said quietly. “What’s wrong?”
“I had a good time Friday,” Vic said. He ran a hand through his hair. “I’d like to do that again. But I can’t under false pretenses. So, here goes. I’m gay, probably the last closeted gay man in Portland. And the reason I didn’t bring a date is because the person I’m dating is a man.”
“And you think that would have been a problem?” Ryan asked puzzled and somewhat offended. “Wait, you’ve been teasing that Teresa could pick you anytime. What was that? Are you using her as a beard for your family?”
“Not her so much as the pretend crush,” Vic clarified. “I’d never do that to a woman. Although I have to admit, if I were ever tempted by woman, it might be Teresa Valdez.”
“OK,” Ryan said, accepting the distinction partially, although Vic shouldn’t be doing that. “Still, you have to know I find it somewhat offensive that you think you wouldn’t be welcome here with a male date. Of course, you would have been!”
“Are you sure?” Vic asked. “Look, I went home and talked to my friend, and he laughed, and said if there is anyone who is safe for you to come out to, it’s Ryan Matthews. So, I’m here. But Ryan, Teresa is a well-brought-up Latina. Are you sure she wouldn’t have a problem?”
Ryan paused to think about that. The trip to Yakima had been eye-opening — for both of them, Ryan thought. Teresa had been making assumptions about him based on her extended family. And he assumed Teresa shared his understanding of things, because of her year in the newsroom. Neither were true, not exactly.
“She’s never had any problem being around gay men in the past,” Ryan said slowly. After all she didn’t have a problem being around him, did she? Did she even understand what omnisexual meant? “I would have just laughed at your concerns before our trip to Yakima. But I learned a lot about assumptions and culture over Memorial Day weekend. So, no, I don’t think she’d have a problem with it. I’ll ask her if that’s where you’re headed.”
“Only if she’ll promise not to out me,” he said. “I don’t think you understand how devasting that would be. My inner family? They may well have guessed. I could probably come out to them, and they’d nod and say, ‘We’ve known for years, son. Is there anything good on television tonight?’ But my extended family? It looks a lot like Teresa’s, and trust me, there would be repercussions there. And I don’t want to lose them or force them to take sides. I just don’t need all that drama. No. But the big issue is the law practice.”
He paused, then as if he was visualizing it, he added slowly, “Our clients would have a problem if it became known in the Latino community, and it would. The women? They’d probably shrug it off, and the only result is they’d stop trying to matchmake me with their daughter, a cousin, their sister....” He trailed off, and when Ryan laughed, he smiled.
“But the men? Yeah, some of them, at least, wouldn’t want me as their attorney.”
Ryan remembered Vic did a lot of the client work because he was seen as assimilated. He was third generation; Spanish wasn’t his first language. He seemed American to these desperate people who needed help with immigration. Ryan had been furious at the implications of that, but as Teresa said, it wasn’t the client’s fault, because it was true, and they were being pragmatic. Blame the system, she said.
And burn it to the ground, he thought grimly. So, he nodded that he understood. Didn’t like the implications, but he understood.
“And if enough clients refused my representation, the firm would be forced to let me go eventually,” he said steadily. He looked at Ryan’s furious face and laughed. “Ryan, I’d be a gay Latino attorney in Portland; truly, I could get work, probably at twice the salary, and half the headaches. But I like immigration law. What I do is important. I don’t want to give that up.”
“OK,” he said slowly. He wasn’t sure he could hide his identity like that for a job, but OK. Then he realized, he had hidden, was still hiding, at least a part of his own sexuality from the university. “OK,” he said with more acceptance.
He stopped to integrate this new information into his old knowledge of Vic Ruiz. He was learning that hindsight was only 20-20 if you actually used the new information to update the old.
“I think Teresa will understand and accept the need to not out you,” Ryan said. “Although I wouldn’t try the teasing-crush routine with another of her family. She might not find that funny.”
“Dear God, no,” Vic said.
“So, your partner knows me,” Ryan said, reverting back to Vic’s original statement.
“Not partner,” Vic denied. “We’re just dating.”
Ryan rolled his eyes. “But you like him enough that you’re coming out to us so you can bring him to future dinner invites? Sounds pretty serious to me,” he said dryly.
“It’s hard,” Vic said. “He’s out, always has been. Don’t think he even knew there was a closet, right? He’s in admissions at Lewis and Clark. He’s struggling with my need for discretion. And yes, when he heard your name, he laughed. Said to tell you what happens in the night world stays in the night world.”
Ryan paused at that. Well shit, he thought. This might be a bigger can of worms than he realized. “Did he say he knew of me and my reputation? Or that he knew me?” he asked.
The front door opened. A 35ish man with blond hair and brown eyes of medium height came in. “Hello, Ryan,” he said. “He was taking so long, I was afraid he was dithering still and hadn’t gotten around to tell you, and I might speed him up a bit.”
“Adam,” Ryan greeted the man. “No, he managed to spit it out pretty quickly. We’ve been talking about the issues of being a gay Latino in an immigration practice.”
Vic looked from one man to the other. “Perhaps I should have asked you, earlier,” he said slowly. “How do you know Ryan?”
Rafael looked up from where he’d been playing with his trucks. “Oh-oh,” he said, correctly reading the increased tension in the room.
Vic laughed, and they all relaxed a bit. Ryan and Adam stared at each other for a moment, and then Ryan sighed. “Vic? Did the term ‘night world’ mean anything to you?”
Vic shook his head.
“Kink? BDSM?” Ryan asked.
He shrugged. “Sure, I know what those terms mean,” he said. “Or are you talking about something more than that? No.”
So, Ryan told him briefly about his experiences in his late teens and early 20s. “I was a well-known player because I could top and I could sub. I’d play with women, with men. They called me a chameleon. One night a man tried to kill me by drugging my drink. You knew him, actually — Ian Black.”
Vic nodded. He was unlikely to forget Ian Black.
“It’s a complicated story, but short form, Cage hauled me up to a doctor he knew at OHSU and she saved my life. Then she convinced me I was an alcoholic. Took six months of convincing, but I’ve been clean and sober for three years last Valentine’s Day,” Ryan said steadily. “And then I quit the kink circuit. Didn’t stop pursuing sex — my friends cheerfully acknowledge I was a complete man-ho as they called it.”
“So, you’re what? Bisexual?” Vic asked incredulously. “Does Teresa know this?”
“Yes,” he said slowly. “She does. At least superficially. But I’m wondering now if she truly understands what she knows. But bisexual? Too limiting a word. I used to joke about being omnisexual. Like an omnivore I’d eat anything.”
It took a moment, then Adam snickered, and they both started laughing. As they relaxed a bit more Ryan smiled briefly. “But truthfully? Yes, I can be attracted to anyone — and their sex, sexual orientation, their sexual identity isn’t the significant factor. But I made a commitment to Teresa. My sexual orientation at this point is monogamy.”
“But Teresa knows.” Vic sought confirmation.
Ryan nodded. But he was wondering now if the distinction between Ryan plays with everyone, and Ryan is attracted to men and women both, might be a bigger one than he’d realized.
“So how do you know Adam?” Vic said, looking at the man he wasn’t quite ready to call partner. Ryan thought he was fooling himself, but who was he to judge?
“When I first started in the kink world, my Dom was a renowned professor at Reed. He was primarily gay, I suppose, but truly it was the dom-sub dynamic that got him off. I was his sub for a year, maybe? It’s blurry. Too many drugs and too much booze since then.” Not to mention he was trying not to shock Adam with how young he’d really been. “But as his sub, I was frequently at parties in Portland’s gay community as his date.”
He hoped that was vanilla enough for Vic to handle. Adam could decide what he wanted to tell Vic from there.
Adam snorted, but he didn’t say anything.
Vic looked between the two of them. “Leaving out much?” he said dryly.
“Adam can regale you with stories some evening,” Ryan said, with an eyeroll. He wasn’t going to talk about the leather scene, drag queens, and dog collars and leashes — not with a guy who barely knew what BDSM was.
Vic laughed. “OK,” he said. “Let me know what Teresa says. Truly, Ryan, I won’t be offended if she’s not comfortable with including me in your future social life. It is a choice I’ve made.”
“It’s not one I’ve made, however,” Adam said grimly, but his heart was in his eyes. Ryan thought he cared a great deal about Vic. “I can live with discreet. Completely closeted? No. I can’t do that.”
“And this would be a start to finding that balance,” Ryan agreed. “I can see that. And I don’t have any concerns about Vic’s sexual orientation being an issue. Not for Teresa or any of my friends. The Eyewitness News staff and alumni aren’t known for being uptight about sex. But I will ask Teresa to be sure.”
Adam started laughing. “No,” he managed finally. “That’s not their reputation.” He laughed again.
Ryan grinned at him. If Adam worked in Lewis and Clark College admissions, he was sure to have heard the stories.
“But if you want me to be the one who talks to Teresa and not you, you’d best head out,” Ryan said. “Because she’s going to be home soon.”
Ryan was still considering how to bring it up when Teresa got home. She came in, bent over and kissed Rafael, and plopped down on the couch beside Ryan. “I will be glad to be done with that class,” she muttered. And then she kissed Ryan too.
Ryan returned it with interest and looked at his son. “Time for a nap?” he asked.
Teresa laughed. “He hasn’t had one? Then yes, it’s past time for a nap.”
Ryan looked at the clock on his computer, 3 p.m. He considered whether he could get a ‘nap’ in before the editor’s meeting? Or the conversation about Vic. He didn’t think he could have both. And it best be the conversation. Damn it.
She came back downstairs and sat back down and snuggled close. As always, it eased something in him to have Teresa close. He put his arm around her. “So, Vic came by,” he said. “Needed to talk.”
She frowned, puzzled. “About?”
He looked at her. “About why he didn’t bring a date to the party,” he said slowly. “Teresa, Vic is gay. As he said, probably the last closeted gay man in Portland. He seemed to think you’d understand why, although he had to spell it all out for me.”
She laughed at that.
“He would like to be a part of our social circle, and his current partner knows of my rep, and told him if ever there was someone who he could safely out himself to, it would be me.”
“That is true,” Teresa said, teasing him.
Ryan grinned at her. “But he says he will respect your wishes if it makes you uncomfortable. All he asks is that you not out him to his family.”
“No, I won’t out him,” she said. “It is very hard to be a gay Latino. And no, I don’t have a problem if he brings a man to our next dinner party. But he needs to not to pull that flirting cover on any of my friends or relatives. People could get hurt. My heart was taken, but....”
“And that’s what I told him,” Ryan said, pleased that he had gotten it right.
“But Ryan? His partner? He knows you from the party circuit?” she asked. “How well does he know you? Because....”
“Not that well,” Ryan said. “But beloved, you know I played with women and men both, right? Does that bother you? That I can be attracted to both men and women?”
She frowned and thought about it. He waited.
“No, it doesn’t bother me,” she said slowly. “Although I hadn’t quite thought about it like that. So, you might notice an attractive man, just like you might a pretty woman?”
He nodded, watching her closely. When she didn’t say anything, he finally said, “I promised you monogamy, beloved. You are the only one I choose to be with. I love you.”
She nodded slowly. “Yes,” she said. “I might find another man attractive, but I won’t act on it either. So, it becomes irrelevant. Yes.”
Ryan noticed, though, that she’d pulled away just a bit. Give her time to process it, he thought, painfully. A bit of panic. He didn’t want to lose this woman. He kissed her on the cheek and stood up.
“I think I’ll go over to EWN for the editor’s meeting,” he said. “Take the bus. Is that OK?”
She nodded and smiled at him.
Preoccupied.
Ryan found his jacket, grabbed his backpack, and started out the door. He realized he was wearing sweats and running shoes, but hell, it wouldn’t be the first time. In fact, he might walk a ways before catching the bus. Clear his own head.
He didn’t catch the bus after all. By the time he decided he’d better or he would be late, he was already to the train stop, so he caught it and rode across town instead. He walked into the newsroom right at 4 p.m. He smiled at Corey and took a seat behind his desk to get logged in to Zoom. He said nothing, but then it was a quiet night, apparently. Stories. Enough of them so that they didn’t have to scramble for something to fill the newscast — no news is not good news in the media business — and nothing breaking so hot that they had to scramble to get it covered.
After the meeting, he hung out for a bit, chatted with Will and Blair. Teased Bianca about dancing the entire night with Ben at the party. Then teased Ben a bit too.
Deciding he’d done enough to keep up appearances, he said his goodbyes, and headed down the stairs, and out the door. And bumped into Steve Planck who had obviously been waiting to catch him.
He groaned. He did not need a walk-and-talk tonight. He started toward the rail stop, but Steve fell in beside him. “Walk with me, please?” he said.
Ryan nodded reluctantly, and the two men started the loop around campus. He’d be glad when the pandemic was over and people invited each other out for a drink or coffee or lunch to talk, he thought morosely. Although this was probably healthier.
“So, I did a bit of reading about pederasty,” Steve said as if this was a normal topic for an evening walk. “The ancient Greek soldiers often....” He hesitated as if he didn’t know the right word.
