Zack tried to look sympathetic. “What did you want me to do?”
“You enjoyed watching me suffer, didn’t you?”
“I did not.”
“You were smiling.”
Zack smiled now. “Because it’s funny. And it is funny.”
“Not when it’s happening to you. Did you see the way she looked at me?
If looks could kill.”
“She thinks it’s funny.”
“Bullshit. She hates me. She’s got to hate me.”
“Why do you assume she hates you? I don’t hate Abbas.”
“Do you like him?”
Zack hesitated. “I barely know him. Maybe I’ll know him better after Friday.”
Did Daniel want Zack to know Abbas? Not really. That was another rea-
son why he disliked the idea of them getting together. “There won’t be any-
thing on Friday. He’s going to say no.”
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“You think? Elena can be awfully persuasive.”
“Abbas can be awfully stubborn. I wish you didn’t like her so much. You
do like her, don’t you?”
“Yes. She’s smart and interesting and honest.” Zack paused. “Why should
it bother you that I like her?”
“Because I can’t always be sure you’re on my side here.”
“I’m on your side. I’m always on your side.” Zack paused again. “But it’s
not about sides. We’re all in this together.”
Daniel thought for a moment, then sighed. “You’re right. I don’t know
why I said that. I’m glad you like her.”
But life would be easier if he didn’t. They wouldn’t know the Rohanis as a
couple and Daniel could see Abbas in private. Things could just happen in the
dark, in a safe, secret compartment.
Zack rolled their cart along in silence, each man disappearing into his own
thoughts, until they reached the ice cream section.
“You wanna?” said Zack, in a guilty, apologetic tone. “It might cheer us
up.” Was he apologizing for ganging up on him with Elena?
“I feel fine,” said Daniel, but he opened the dairy case and took out a car-
ton of Turkey Hill chocolate mint chip, Zack’s favorite. “But if it’ll make you
happy.” He tossed the cold brick into the cart. “At least it’s not heroin.”
16
Elena called the next day to report that Abbas had said yes to An
American in Paris. Zack was pleased. If the two couples were going to
share spouses once a week, they should meet now and then, all four of them.
It was more honest that way, more civilized. We’re putting the adult back into
adultery, Zack told himself—he didn’t share the joke with Daniel. And yes, he
wanted to see Daniel and Abbas together, just to get a sense of how the two
men behaved with each other. He didn’t feel threatened, only curious, and
maybe a little voyeuristic. A movie was less dangerous than dinner. A movie
would give them something to focus on besides themselves. What could be
safer than An American in Paris?
“Relax,” he told Daniel. “If Abbas can handle it, and I can handle it, so
can you.”
“Oh, I can handle it. I just can’t help wondering if I’m walking into a
trap.”
“Whose trap? Elena’s?”
“Yes. Or maybe yours.”
“But I don’t want to trap you.”
“Not consciously. But unconsciously you might want to punish me. You
might want to see me sweat.”
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“Not at all. I just want to spend time with a family that you have made an
intimate part of our life.”
But when he was alone, Zack asked himself: Did he want to punish
Daniel? No. Yet he did feel Daniel was having things much too easy. He
should be willing to experience occasional discomfort in payment for his fun.
Friday arrived. It was already dark when Zack and Daniel strolled over to
pick up the Rohanis. The house was on the way, and the four could walk to
Merchants Square together. It was a crisp, cool fall night.
“How do we do this?” asked Zack. “Do we sit boy-girl-boy-boy?”
“Not funny,” said Daniel.
“No? Not a little? And people think you’re the witty half of the couple.”
But Zack knew better than to try any other jokes when Daniel was feeling so
shaky and vulnerable.
The Rohanis lived on Chandler Court, a cul-de-sac off Jamestown Road.
The college did not give their guest artist a whole house but the larger half of
a duplex. Zack and Daniel went up to the front porch. Neither had been here
before. The breeze produced a long, heavy sigh in the tall cedar trees over-