Evan noticed that although Cadin wasn't thrilled about his situation, he sounded less upset than Michele. "I'm just sorry I told so many people about it. I introduced him to my mother, and to the rest of the family in Brooklyn. At first, I was a little worried because he's a little effeminate and my family is still not used to me being gay. But everything seemed to work out and I thought things were going so well between us."
"You poor thing," Michele said. "I think we both need another drink."
Evan said, "You two sit down. I'll get you both another martini. You're out of vodka at the bar." He knew Michele's apartment as well as he knew his own. He knew she kept several bottles of vodka in the freezer at all times.
Michele's apartment was large enough to have a private eat-in kitchen off the dining room, with a swinging door so no one would have to look at the kitchen during her candlelight dinner parties. She tended to be more formal than most of Evan's other friends, who liked cooking in front of people with their open-concept kitchens. Michele didn't cook; she hired a chef. She believed kitchens belonged at the back of the house, and only the hired help needed to know what was going on inside them, not the guests. Although Evan had always tended to be more informal, he had to admit there was always something special about being invited to Michele's house for a dinner party. They were civilized events to be remembered.
Of course he'd never forget this particular party. When he went into the kitchen, he went directly to the freezer, pulled out an unopened bottle of the best vodka money can buy, and opened it so fast he almost twisted his wrist. He took one glance over his right shoulder and another to the left, and then he lifted the bottle, tilted his head back, and took a few swallows. The ice-cold booze went down so well, and he felt such a surge of calm rush through his body, he took a few more quick swallows and put the cap back on the bottle. He told himself that's all he would drink for the rest of the night. He promised himself he'd only needed that quick taste to calm his nerves. All the excuses he'd made to himself in the past came rushing back and he didn't think he'd done anything wrong. After all, they were all falling apart right before his eyes. If a person couldn't take a small drink at a time like this, life simply wasn't worth living.
He returned the open bottle of vodka to the freezer and pulled out another one that hadn't been opened yet, and then he wiped his lips and went back into the living room to join his friends. He found them both on the sofa. Cadin was hugging Michele, and Evan felt a sting of guilt because he'd just taken a drink and they had no idea. He'd been an alcoholic long enough to hide what he'd just done; he could look anyone in the eye and swear he hadn't been drinking. Like all alcohols, manipulation and lying became a way of life.
While they sat on the sofa eating caviar and chopped egg, Evan continued to make them martinis. By the time he'd finished mixing the third pitcher, he poured himself a glass and sat down in an armchair on the other side of the sofa without thinking about it.
Cadin's voice started to slur a little. He wasn't drunk, but he wasn't completely sober. "I swear to God this is the last time I'm introducing anyone to my family unless I know it's the real thing."
Michele frowned and finished her martini. "Well, I swear to God this is the last time I get involved with a guy without asking him on the first date if he likes to suck dick."
Cadin laughed so hard he fell backward.
Evan lifted his martini glass, finished what was left, and said, "I think you should get it in writing, Michele."
That remark should have made Cadin laugh harder. But he didn't. When he saw Evan sitting across from him holding an empty martini glass, he frowned and said, "I can't believe we let you do that."
Michele sent him a look. "I wasn't paying attention." She closed her eyes and shook her head in a way that suggested utter disapproval.
Evan laughed. He hadn't felt this good in months. "Calm down, guys. I'm good. I really am. I know how much I can handle. Seriously." With alcohol in his body he could talk himself into believing anything. He used to be able to talk other people into believing anything. But it didn't seem to be working anymore-at least, not with the people who knew him the best.
There was still a little martini left in his glass. Cadin reached for it and said, "You've had enough. I'm not going to sit here and watch all the hard work you've done vanish in one night."
Evan stood up before he could take the glass. He went to the back of the sofa and Cadin followed him. "I'm fine, I really am. It's only one little drink."
Cadin started to shout at him. He grabbed his arm and tried to take the glass out of his hand with force. "Goddamn it, Evan. Give me the fucking glass."
Evan pushed him away. He started to shout, too. "Give me a fucking break," he said. "There's no way I'm going to get through this night with fucking club soda. You two are melting down before my eyes, I'm now on the wrong side of thirty, my husband wants an open marriage, and the guy I've been seeing who I thought was so different just informed me he's into three-ways. I need something to get through all that shit, and I'm going to have it." Then he lifted the glass and finished what was left in it.
Cadin turned to Michele and said, "Do something. Say something."
Michele stood and turned. "Don't do this, Evan. You know you can't drink anymore. When I picked you up, you told me in the car that you'd never go back to Havilland again."
"Don't tell me what to do," Evan said. "I'm tired of people telling me what to do. I'd like to be treated with a little respect just once in my life."
Michele glared at him. "Then you need to earn it, because you're not getting any respect from me if you start drinking again. I'm not joking this time, Evan. I can deal with a lot. I'm devastated right now about getting dumped by a guy I thought I was in love with. I know I'll get over that eventually. But I'm not going to go through another round with you drinking."
"Fuck you," Evan said.
Then the doorbell rang and all three of them stopped talking. After a moment of silence, Evan said, "Is anyone going to answer that?" His tone had lifted; he sounded as good as he felt. He only wished they'd leave him alone and let him have just one or two drinks this one time.
Michele turned and walked toward a small hallway at the front of her apartment. From where they stood in the living room, they couldn't see who was at the door. Evan hugged Cadin and said, "Stop being so serious. It's going to be okay. I'm fine. I know what I'm doing."
Cadin didn't seem convinced. He didn't return the hug.
A second later, Michele returned and said, "It's Kenny and two friends."
"Oh fuck," Evan said. "I forgot to call Kenny and tell him the party is off." He thought for a moment. He'd only had a few drinks; it wasn't as though he was falling all over the place. While Michele stood there waiting for him to speak, he walked to the other side of the room, and said, "Just let them in. We'll have our own little party."
As Michele turned to get Kenny and his friends, Evan smoothed the front of his jacket and smiled at Cadin. "It's fine, don't worry. I'll be the model dad. The GLAAD father of the year."
Cadin didn't reply. He stood there staring at him with an expression that suggested he wasn't sure what to expect next.
Chapter Fourteen
The moment Evan saw Kenny and two other people enter the living room, his arms went up, he crossed the room to greet them, and he started speaking in that eager-to-please-everyone animated voice he only used when he'd been drinking. Although he'd never been able to judge himself in this respect, people had always told him he was a happy, playful drunk. At least in the beginning. The more he drank the nastier he tended to become.
"There you are." He threw his arms around Kenny and hugged him.
Kenny seemed surprised, partly because Evan was so animated and partly because the room was virtually void of other party guests. "Where is everyone? Am I early?"
Evan winked at Michele, letting her know he would protect her secret about getting dumped. "There was a change of plans, sweetie. I'll tell you later." He hugged him again and said, "But I'm so glad you're here now."
"It's good to see you, too, Dad," Kenny said, glancing over Evan's shoulder at Cadin.
Evan turned to the people Kenny had brought to the party. For a moment, he couldn't place them. Then it dawned on him these were the two young people he'd met in the restaurant that afternoon when Evan had pretended to be Kenny's older brother. He thought quickly and grabbed Kenny's arm. "Do they know I'm your father, not your brother?" He didn't feel like playing games that night.
Kenny laughed and said, "Yes. I told them the truth. They know you're my dad."
Evan's arms went up again. "It's Candy and Grayson." He shook Candy's hand and said, "I'll bet you thought I'd forget your names. But I never forget a name or a face." Then he turned to Grayson and hugged him. He squeezed young Grayson's biceps, took a quick breath, and said, "And I'd never forget a big, strong, handsome guy like you."
By that time, Kenny had walked to the other side of the living room to where Michele was standing near the grand piano. Evan noticed they both had serious expressions and said, "What's wrong? This is supposed to be a partly. You two look like it's a funeral."