“You don’t have to explain to me,” Luis said. “It’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have asked. Please don’t be mad. I don’t want to go back to my apartment yet, and we’re just becoming good friends. Let’s not start off on the wrong foot. I like you so much.”
“Hand me my bathrobe,” Jase said. It sounded more like an impatient grumble than a request. “I’ll make a couple of drinks.”
Luis stood up and tightened his robe. “Absolutely not,” he said. “You stay right where you are and I’ll make you a drink. I’ll pass, though. I’m not much of a drinker myself. But you’ve been driving for days and you should be sleeping right now.” And, Luis thought, if he’d just had sex with the redheaded guy, he must really be tired. But he didn’t mention this aloud.
Luis walked to a desk where there was an expensive-looking decanter of scotch on a silver tray with several crystal cocktail glasses. When he lifted the decanter, he looked it over and asked, “Baccarat?”
Jase nodded. “Yes. It was a gift.” But he didn’t say who had given it to him.
Luis poured the drink and said, “No doubt from your designer friend.” One of the perks about spending so much time with wealthy older men was that Luis learned a lot about the finer things in life. He could spot Baccarat Crystal at a glance; he could tell an authentic ivory carving from a bone carving just by touching it with his fingertips.
Jase smiled. “Yes, actually. He’s very generous.”
Luis walked back to the bed and handed Jase the drink. “You probably think I’m just another dumb little bar queen looking for a meal ticket. I’m probably as transparent to you as the sheer draperies on your windows.”
“Not really,” Jase said. “I like to get to know people better before I form an opinion.”
“Seriously,” Luis said. “I know what people think of me. And I don’t care. At least I’m honest with everyone, including myself.” He sighed and walked to the window. “If you don’t mind me asking, what do you do?”
“I’m an inventor,” Jase said.
“I don’t think I’ve ever known any inventors,” Luis said. “I once dated an older patent attorney who was in his nineties, bless him, but I don’t think he ever invented anything himself.
But he did have a client who invented one of those kitchen gadgets that chop and dice things.”
Then he faced Jase again and asked. “What have you invented?”
“Oh, little things,” Jase said. His face tightened and he had trouble looking Luis in the eye. “Right now I’m working on a cheese smoker, so people can smoke their own homemade cheese.” He pointed to a large box near a desk and nodded.
Luis went to the box and looked inside. He pulled out a few blocks of hickory and stared at them in his palm. “It’s just a box of wood blocks,” he said.
Jase shrugged his shoulders. “I’m still working on it. Inventing things takes a lot of time and patience. The final product has to be perfect before you can start selling it.”
“But a cheese smoker?” Luis asked, making a face. “Do people really need something like that?”
“Hey,” Jase said, squaring his shoulders, “don’t knock it. The guy who invented the toothpick made millions. I happen to know for a fact that many people have invented many small things everyone takes for granted and they’ve made millions of dollars.”
Luis smiled politely and put the blocks of wood back into the empty box. He didn’t want to press Jase for any more information. From what he could see, Jase’s position wasn’t that much different from his own. Only Jase, at the very least, had a dream to keep him going, and if he never completed one single invention, at least he could keep trying. Luis didn’t have that kind of hope in his life, because he didn’t have a specific dream for the future. He knew he wanted security and dependability; he just wasn’t sure how to get it.
“You have a point,” Luis said, with a hint of sadness in his voice. He turned and walked to the other end of the room and looked into a large gilded mirror with and ornate frame that had curls and turns. There was a large gold swan carved at the base. It reminded him of the scroll work on Elena’s blog.
When Luis reached to touch the swan’s delicate head, Jase leaned forward on the bed and said, “I’ve been wondering about something. I can’t get it out of my head. Do you really get five hundred dollars for giving that old guy your dirty sweat socks?”
“Indeed.”
“Can a person actually make a living that way?”
“Ah well,” Luis said, “I do okay. But I can never seem to save anything. No matter how much money I make, there’s never more than a hundred dollars in my bank account.”
Luis could see Jase’s reflection in the mirror. He smiled and said, “You look so much like my uncle. I haven’t seen him since I moved to New York. He’s gay, too. He’s been HIV positive for years, he doesn’t have health insurance, and he only takes his meds when he can afford them.
He should be taking them all the time, but they cost thousands of dollars a month. Without insurance, there’s no way the average person can afford HIV medicine. He works as a handyman and supports himself. He’s too proud to take any assistance from anyone and I’ve never heard him complain once about his situation. I send him money all the time, but most of the time he either sends the money back, or he refuses to cash my checks. I hope one day I can bring him here and make sure he has his meds all the time.”
“It must be difficult for him,” Jase said. “He sounds like a good man.”
Luis nodded. He put his hand into his pockets and stared at the floor. “I just wish I could do more.”
Then Luis turned and walked back to the bed. On the way, he looked at a small clock and pressed his palm to his throat. “I can’t believe it’s almost five in the morning. We’ve been talking forever.” He looked at the window, then down at his dog. The dog’s eyes were shut tight and his hairless, freckled body was moving up and down. “Can I get into bed with you?” Luis asked. “I don’t want to go back there alone tonight. This isn’t about sex. I’m not trying to get into your pants. I just want to sleep. We’re friends, right? You don’t want anything more from me, right?”