In the car home, I turned to Lisa, "What’s going on?"

She smiled. "What do you mean?"

"You know full well what I mean."

"Patience. Just have patience and all will turn out well."

"Enough with the oblique comments. Tell me." I turned to Sandy, "What is going on? I’ve been manipulated long enough."

She shrugged. "Ask Lisa. This is her show."

"Very funny. I want to know, or this is over."

Lisa rolled her eyes. "Oh god, she’s at it again. Look, I’ll tell you one thing and that’s it. I don’t want to ruin the surprise."

"Oh gee thanks," I said sarcastically. "Do tell."

"Two weeks."

"What does that mean."

"The resolution comes in two weeks."

"That’s it? That’s bullshit. I need to know more."

"Fourteen days," she said, giggling.

"I need to know more. Sandy?"

"I think you’ll like the surprise."

"I quit. I’m done. If you’re not going to tell me, I’m done."

"So quit," Lisa said. "I’m tired of the drama, Miss Jessica. If you don’t trust me, who needs all of this?"

"Stop. Put yourself in my shoes. There’s all this whispering. Then someone buys you a gorgeous dress. Twice. And then you’re left hanging."

Lisa smirked. "Gorgeous dress, huh? For someone who’s quote ‘only doing this for me until June,’ you’ve developed quite a fashion sense. And quite a wardrobe."

"Stop it."

"All I’m saying is just wait, sweetie. If the surprise is less than fulfilling, you can...pick something, anything, that’s how sure I am."

"Sandy, please," I begged.

"Sorry, Jessica, this is between you girls. I’m staying out of it".

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Everyday I’d ask Lisa, "Please tell me. The suspense is killing me." And everyday she’d say, "Thirteen days." Or "Twelve days." On the upside, however, she stopped sounding like Kane from Kung Fu.

A week after our shopping excursion, I ran into Jim in the bodega around the corner from our building. "Hey Jim," I said. "What’s going on?"

"Oh, hey, Br..Jess," he responded, catching himself before anyone noticed. "What’s up?"

"What’s the big secret?"

"The Mets suck, my little French maid. Oh wait, that’s not a secret," he smirked, as we left the store.

"Very funny. I’ve already picked out a nice slow song."

"I’ve already ordered French maid uniforms. And I’m going to spill lots of shit."

"You just want to see my ass. I’m a little concerned about you, Jim."

"Look, ass wrangler," he laughed. "I’m sorry you’ve fallen in love with me, although it’s understandable..."

"What color is the sky in your world, Jim?"

"Anyway," he said, ignoring me. "I’m not interested, but..." he said, catching himself.

"But what," I pounced. "That’s the secret, isn’t it?"

Jim turned pale for a brief second but quickly regained composure. He was good, I had to admit. "How fucking nuts do you think I am, Brian? You think I’m going to talk? You’ll like it, trust me."

"I’m tired of that, Jim. I think I have a right to know."

"So do I. But, I’ve been sworn to secrecy. But, trust me, I think you’ll like it. And, I’m not Lisa. I think we’ve pretty well established that I don’t do games."

"I guess..."

"Look, it’s a week away. You can hold out until then. I mean, you’re a Met fan. You hold out hope every year that they won’t suck. They always do, but look you still hold out. So, what’s a week? Besides, unlike that, this actually has the hope of turning out good."

"Ha ha. I can’t wait to see that $200 million payroll go down in flames."

"See, that’s the ticket. You’re waiting for that. It won’t happen. But you still wait. So wait another week."

"You suck, Jim, you know that?"

"Sorry, I would tell you, I really would," he said apologetically. "You will, or should at least, like this. Tell you what, you don’t like it, I will wear a Mets jersey and cap for a week..."

"And?"

"And what? That’s not enough."

"You’ll stand by the Stadium on a game day singing, ‘Meet the Mets.’"

"You know what, I am so sure you’ll like this, that I’ll do it. And, if you like it, I won’t even make you do anything."

"Wow, OK, I trust you." I did really trust him. This was not something he would do under threat of death. The cap alone would kill him.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So the week passed very slowly. I buried myself in work once again, hoping that sublimation and denial would make things move quickly. They didn’t. On Thursday night, Lisa came over. "OK, Cinderella. Time to pick out an outfit for the big ball."

"Oooh, a big ball. Is it attached to something else big? Is that my surprise."

She rolled her eyes. "We’ll see. Anyway, we need to pick out an outfit for tomorrow’s surprise. Try on the white dress."

"How fancy is this?"

"Just do it," she said, pushing me towards my closet. I put on the dress and a pair of 4" white spikes.

"Hmmm..." she said. "Wait, where did you get those?"

"I bought them a week and a half ago. I needed shoes to go with the dress."

"But, yet, you’re stopping this after the wedding. Uh huh."

"Don’t read more into this than there is. I needed shoes."

"You could borrow mine," she smirked.

"Your feet are too big," I smirked back.

"Bitch."

"Such petty jealousy...tsk, tsk."

She stuck out her tongue. "Turn," she said, twirling her finger in the air. I did. She said, "You look great. But that may be a little over the top for tomorrow. Put on the LBD Melissa and I bought you." I slumped.

"What’s wrong, Bri?"

"I had forgotten about her. I have a meeting next week with her. I’m going to be mortified."

"Oh, stop it. She has nothing but respect for you. She told me so last week."

"So, what are you two best buddies now?"

"No. We had a business meeting about her new project."

"And I came up?"

"Actually, yes. She brought you up. She said, ‘he’s all worried that I’m going to make fun of him, isn’t he?’"

"Oh god," I moaned. "What did you say?"

"‘You know our Brian.’"

"And?"

"She said, and I quote, ‘Tell him enough already. If I had to pick one person to take to my next job, it would be him. Dress or no dress. Although...’"

"Although what?"

"‘Although if I had my way, he’d wear skirts all the time. He has killer legs, the bitch.’"

I laughed. "I do, you know."

"Oh god, you little diva. I am soooo sorry I ever did this. Anyway, the LBD NOW!" she said, clapping her hands.

"Yes, Miss Lisa," I said, slipping it over my head. I put on 3" strappy sandals, and gave a twirl. "Well?"

"Beautiful. That’s what we’re going with."

"What’s my surprise?"

"Nope. Nice try. But nope. Besides, it’s just one more day."

"This better be good."

"And, if it’s not, you get to torture Jim and me. How do you lose?"

"Uh huh," I said, warily.

"See you tomorrow at 7 P.M. at our place."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I did as I was told. The next night, I put on the LBD and arrived at Lisa and Jim’s place at 7 PM sharp. Jim answered the door and whistled, "You look good, Jess." This threw me.

"What’s up, Jim? No comments? No ‘butt monkey,’ no ‘popsicle police’ or ‘tunnel digger?’"

He laughed, and pointed his finger towards Lisa. "She said not tonight. Although I’ll have to remember ‘tunnel digger.’"

"It won’t count now that I came up with it."

"You’re becoming more and more of a woman."

"No, I’m not. This is just until the wedding..."

"Uh huh," he said, rolling his eyes. "Actually," he grinned, "it’s until July 4th, when you and my wife will be serving me and my friends."

"They’ve looked like shit in spring training. So, I’m thinking that after our big dance, I’m going to tell everyone I’m a guy."

"Yeah, OK," he snorted. "The flaw in your plan is that we always look bad in spring training, but do it when it counts. Whereas, you suck in spring training and continue to suck."

"A nice slow song. Maybe ‘Endless Love.’"

"Oops, I dropped my beer. Fifi, Giselle, clean it up."

"Fifi? Giselle? You have some major issues. Maybe you should postpone the wedding and see someone."

Lisa walked into the room. "Jess, you look amazing. What are you two talking about?"

"What else?" Jim said. "Jessica over here is deluding him..I mean, herself that the Mets will actually be better than the Yankees. And I’ve been explaining that she had better get used to that French Maid uniform."

"He’s named us Fifi and Giselle."

"He picked ‘Endless Love.’"

"I’m leaving you two. You should marry each other."

We both laughed. "Jim’s unwilling to compromise."

"I know, I know," he said, "you can’t let every little, and I mean little, thing get in the way of true happiness, right?"

"You know you want me, Jim. Don’t lie."

"Get it out now, you two. You need to be on your best behavior."

"Why?" I said, "What’s going on?"

"The surprise should be here soon. Come into the bedroom and help me finish getting ready."

"I hate you," I said, walking ahead of her.

She gave me the once-over. "And I hate you. You’re too beautiful."

"I know."

We walked into the bedroom. "Have you considered keeping this up after the wedding?"

"Stop. Now. Or I’m going home."

"I’m just saying..."

"Stop."

"You just seem much more confident. And peaceful."

"I’m not. I’m doing this for you. That’s it."

"OK, OK. No one would care, you know."

"Are you delusional? The world just loves guys in dresses."

"Noone knows that you’re guy in a dress. Every guy on the street gives you the once or twice over. You think they know?"

"Look, I don’t want to do it, OK. I miss my old life."

"You miss being ignored by men?"

"Fine, so they don’t ignore me now. I think they’d be a little upset to find what I’ve got down below, don’t you?"

"So you admit you like being this way."

"That’s not what I said. I said that, even if I stayed this way, which I’m not going to, it’d be pointless, since I couldn’t lead a full life."

She smiled. "Mmmm, hmmmm."

"OK, Julia," I said snarkily. "Enough. What’s the surprise?"

"Soon."

Lisa finished putting on her makeup, and said, "Damn, we do look good. Maybe we should ditch

Jim and go out."

"Not until I see the surprise." Just then, like a bad movie, the doorbell rang. "What do you have, a stage manager, Lise?"

She laughed. "This should be the surprise."

Jim called out. "Lise, Jessica, come here."

We came out and there was a good looking guy standing with Jim. About 6'2", 190 pounds, with dark curly hair and blue eyes. Lisa came over and gave him a kiss. "Kenny, how are you? It’s been too long. How’s Paris?" She turned to me. "Kenny’s a lawyer with Clifford Chance. He’s been working in Paris."

"Really? That sounds interesting."

He laughed. "Not really. Great city. Too bad I spend most of my life in an office. I could just as easily be in Tulsa."

"April in Tulsa. I hear it’s lovely." I said. "By the way, since Lisa has clearly not been keeping up on etiquette, I’m Jessica Rosen," I said, sticking out of my hand.

"Kenny Weinberg," he laughed.

"Kenny is one of Jim’s fraternity brothers," said Lisa.

"How do you and Lisa know each other?"

"From college. Best friends since freshman year."

"Lise, I don’t remember ever hearing about Jessica. You think I would have, at least from Jim."

Jim laughed. "She’s lost a lot of weight. She’s like a different person."

I flashed Jim the ‘good save’ look. He continued, "Actually, you and Jess have a lot in common. For example, you’re both Met fans. I thought that, since you both don’t get it, you’d go well together at the wedding."

Kenny punched Jim on the arm. "Putz." He turned to me, "Jim is so pathetic. Rooting for the Yankees is like rooting for Wal-Mart."

"I think the quote is ‘Rooting for the Yankees is like rooting for US Steel," I said.

Kenny whistled. "I know, but US Steel isn’t US Steel anymore. Still, very impressive. She really knows her stuff. Anyway, I always ask him, ‘what’s it like to always expect a World Series, and then fall progressively shorter, like they have since 2000?’"

"I know," I said. "He doesn’t get it."

Jim smirked. "Wow, two delusional losers. You two were made for each other."

"You two have other stuff in common," Lisa chimed in. "For example, Jessica used to work in Paris."

"Really, where?" Kenny asked.

"I worked two years for Price Waterhouse, before the merger. Where do you live?"

"The 7th. On Rue de Grenelle."

I whistled. "The 7th. Nice."

"And you?"

"In the 5th."

"Kind of cliched, don’t you think?"

I folded my arms in front of me. "I was twenty-two, and some of us aren’t big shot lawyers."

He reached and moved my arms down. I felt electricity. "Sorry, I was just teasing. So what do you do?"

"Software development."

"Nice. Beautiful and smart. Still at PWC?"

I blushed. "No, on my own. I found that I don’t like working for other people."

"I’d say the same, but it’s a little harder to do what I do on your own."

"Which is?" I said, giving him the once-over again. "I could get used to him," I thought.

"M & A. Not too many companies hiring solos to handle the big deals."

"I know. I’ve done systems integration stuff when companies merge. There always seem to be too many..sorry, a lot of lawyers on these things."

He laughed. "You were right with too many. Enough shop talk. Favorite restaurant in Paris?"

"This place in the 10th, Le Gigot Fin. Yummy lamb. You?" Over Kenny’s shoulder, I saw Lisa roll her eyes and mouth "Yummy?"

"In the 10th, huh? Interesting neighborhood. You felt safe?"

"It wasn’t so bad. Besides, we went in a group. You haven’t answered my question."

"Coin des Gourmets, in the 5th. Vietnamese-Cambodian-Thai."

"Oooh, I love Thai. If you’re interested, I’d love to go get some with you."

"Sounds like a plan. Favorite Met? And don’t say Ron Darling, because he’s cute."

"Please," I said, rolling my eyes. "He was spectacularly mediocre. My favorite, cliched as it is, is Tom Seaver. Although I have a soft spot for Steve Henderson."

"Hendu, huh? Interesting."

"I don’t know why. I guess I always liked the underdog. Your favorite?"

"Jon Matlack? Why him?"

"Because...never mind, just because," he said, looking down.

"No, why?" I said playfully. "I said Steve Henderson. What could be worse than that?"

"He gave me an autograph when I was seven, at a temple thing." He blushed.

"Don’t blush," I said, touching his arm. "That’s adorable." He briefly gave me a look that said he felt something too. "This is a beautiful suit." I opened the jacket. "Zegna. Nice." I flipped over the tie. "Hermes? Are you sure you’re Jim’s friend?"

"Excuse me," he said, with a smile. "I’ve just met you."

"I’m sorry," I said, "I just can’t believe a friend of Jim’s would actually know Zegna and Hermes, much less wear them. Where did you get everything, Paris?"

He smiled. "We’re not all cavemen like Jim. Tie, yes. The suit I bought it at Barney’s the last time I was in. Let’s see what you’ve got," he said, flipping back the neck of my dress. "Dolce and Gabbana. Very nice."

"Excuse me," I said, turning crimson. "What do you think you’re doing?" Actually, I only wished he’d kept going and unzipped me. But that, unfortunately, was extremely unlikely.

"Turnabout’s fair play," he said, ‘accidentally’ brushing my neck. He had to stop this. Or not.

"OK, you two," Jim said. "Can we go to dinner, or would you two like to be alone?"

"Sorry," said Kenny. "You know Jim can’t let other people talk for more than five minutes."

"I’m sorry dickhead," Jim responded. "But that story about Jon Matlack was soooo cute. You never told me that," he said in baby talk.

"If you ever tell anyone, I’ll tell Lisa about that week in Tijuana."

"What week in Tijuana?" Lisa asked with a smile.

"I’ve never been in TJ," said Jim defensively. "Seriously, Lise, Kenny’s just busting my balls."

Lisa grinned, "I believe you honey," then theatrically mimed "Call me" to Kenny. "OK, everyone, who’s up for York Grill?"

"Sounds good to me," said Jim.

"Burger Heaven’s good to you," said Lisa. Jim then started grunting like an ape and scratching his armpits.

"York Grill is fine."

"What’s York Grill?" Kenny asked. "Although, I’m sure if it’s fine with Jessica, it’s fine with me."

"Thank you," I said. "It’s nice to be listened to. Anyway, it’s upscale American. On York and 90th."

"Should we cab it?" asked Jim.

"Let’s walk," Kenny and I both said, at the same time. "Jinx, buy me a Coke," I giggled.

Lisa made mock-vomiting motions. "That is so cute. Isn’t it, Jim?"

"They are just adorable," he said sarcastically, clapping his hands together.

We went downstairs, and we all started walking together. Then, about five blocks in, Lisa, in a pathetic theatrical display, called Jim to the window of a florist and said, "Jim, come here. I want your opinion on something."

"Huh? Ask Jess. You know I don’t know this shit."

"Get..over...here...NOW!!!" He shrugged his shoulders, and walked over.

"She’s subtle, isn’t she?" I said, moving in closer.

Kenny stiffened. "Look, Jess, don’t take this the wrong way, but..."

My heart sank. "But, what? I’m sorry. I came on too strong." Lisa was right.

"That’s not it at all." I could see Lisa straining to listen in. "It’s just..."

"I was just playing. I didn’t mean anything," I said, apologetically. I wanted to kill myself. "I’m sorry. Really." I started crying. I don’t know why. I felt ridiculous.

"Don’t be sorry. I gave as good as I got. It’s just...jesus, this is difficult," he said, looking down. "Just say it...It’s that...well, I’m...well...I’m gay," he spat out.

"That’s it?" I said, with a smile.

"That’s it? That doesn’t bother you?"

"No. So am I."

"What," he said, his jaw dropping. Then he laughed. "Jim must beg you to let him watch."

I laughed. "I didn’t say I was a lesbian. I said I’m gay."

"I don’t follow."

"I’m gay. I’m a man. I like men. Same as you."

"Sorry, but I find that hard to believe. Look at you."

"Why would lie about that?"

"I don’t know. But there is no way you are a man. Look at you."

"If you kept going with the dress, you could’ve had confirmation."

"Stop it. This is just too strange."

"Lisa, Jim, you can stop listening in. Come over here, Kenny has a question for you."

They walked over. "What’s up?"

Kenny pointed at me. "What’s her real name?"

"Jessica," Lisa answered. "Why?"

"Lisa," I said. "What is my real name? Tell him the truth."

Jim chimed in. "His name’s Brian."

"For real?"

"For real," Lisa said.

"Then, Brian," he virtually spat, "Would you like to explain yourself?"

"Excuse us," Jim said, pulling Lisa away.

"I want to stay."

"No, Lisa, you don’t," he said. I had never seen him put his foot down like that.

As they scurried away like rats from a sinking ship. "What’s going on? They set me up with a drag queen? Or are you pre-op? I don’t do drag queens or pre-ops. Guys like you make me sick. Too embarrassed of who you are."

"You don’t know thing one about me. And I bet you’re out and proud, huh? I’m sure the partners love that. Closet case."

"Don’t talk about what you don’t know. OK," he said mockingly, "if you’re not a drag queen or pre-op, what’s with this?" he said, waving his hand up and down.

"Not that you give a shit," I snarled, " but I’m doing this for Lisa."

"Oh, really?" he said sarcastically. "You seem a little too good at this." He started tapping his foot. "I’m waiting."

"Are you truly interested, or are you just mocking me? I mean, you seem, or should I say seemed, very nice, but really you’re not the only fish in the sea."

"I’m still waiting."

With that, I gave him the whole story. I mean, the whole story. It took fifteen minutes. When I was finished, I was tearing up from embarrassment. All he said, with a smirk, was, "Wow, that was some story."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that it’s some story. Must’ve taken you quite a while to come up with it."

"The truth doesn’t take a while."

"Please, you expect me to believe that you’re only doing this for Lisa? Come on, the walk, the makeup, the D & G."

"What? I’m sorry. I’m in the wedding and I guess you expect me to look like a guy in a dress. Why? So Jim’s friends can kick my ass?"

"OK, fine. The wedding’s two months away. And, yet, you’re dressed to the nines and flitting around like you’re real."

"Look, I told her I’d do it. And a job worth doing is a job worth doing right."

"Please. You’re a little queen and that’s it."

"Fuck you," I said. "Closet cases like you make me sick. Afraid of your own shadows so you dump on everybody else. Go fuck yourself."

"Not very ladylike," he smirked.

I smacked him across the face. "How about that? Ladylike enough for you?"

He rubbed his face. "You need help."

"Tell Lisa I got sick," I said, turning to go home.

"Come on," he said. "We can suffer through dinner."

"Why the hell should I?"

"Tell you what," he said. "I’ll ask Lisa and Jim to confirm your story."

"How magnanimous of you," I said icily. "Quite frankly, I don’t care what you do. I don’t need to prove myself to you or anyone. Besides what’s in it for me? You find out I’m right and then what?"

"My firm has a skybox at Shea. It’s yours. Any game."

"Why should I believe that you could get it?"

"You have no reason to. But what do you have to lose? Even if I’m wrong, you can still lord it over me. Besides, what are you going to do, go home and stew?"

"Fine. Provided the skybox doesn’t include you."

"Please. Like I want to be anywhere with you."

"That’s not what I got before."

"Hard up little femme."

"Stuck up self-hating asshole."

We walked to the restaurant in utter silence. I finally broke the silence. "Does Jim know you’re gay?"

"Of course."

"Jim...Jim and Lisa Jim knows you’re gay."

"Uh huh."

I whistled. "Wow, I find that hard to believe."

"Why?"

"It’s just that Jim never struck me as being that liberal."

"Why?"

"I don’t know. He’s always making cracks. Coming up with new synonyms for being gay. I’m fond of ‘popsicle police.’"

He smiled. "That’s Jim. Actually, when I came out, he was really there for me. I mean a lot of my other friends couldn’t run away fast enough, but he didn’t."

"Wow. I’m amazed. That seems so out of character."

"It’s really not. He’s a straight boy. He’s not going to share his deepest feelings with you."

"OK, OK. What did he say when you told him?"

"Uh, OK," he mimicked Jim’s speech patterns. "You know, if you need something, I got your back. Although you know you can’t have me."

I laughed out loud. "Now that sounds like Jim."

He smirked. I hated that smirk. "There’s a lot you don’t know...Jessica."

"I could say the same...Kenneth," I said, lisping on the "th."

When we got to the restaurant, Jim and Lisa were waiting. "What took you guys so long?" asked Jim, with a sly smirk.

"Lisa," I said, curtly. "Excuse me, but I need your help in the ladies’ room."

"What happened?" she and Jim both asked.

"Lisa...NOW!"

We went into the ladies’ room. I checked to make sure no one was there, and then lit into her. "What the fuck was that about?"

"I’m..uh...guessing that you don’t like your surprise?"

"My surprise, huh? Next time, spare me the surprises. In fact, just spare me."

"What happened? You two were so cute together before."

"Well, he found out I was a guy."

"So? I mean he’s gay."

"I’ve told you this before. If gay life were a prison, drag queens and pre-ops are like child molesters."

"That seems melodramatic. What’s a pre-op again?"

"Pre-operative transsexual. A guy who wants to be a girl and who lives as one."

"Oh...what else did he say?"

"Said I was full of shit. I told him why I was doing this, and all he said was ‘that’s some story.’ And you know what? He’s right. I’m a goddamn freak, Lise. I liked him and now he thinks I’m some kind of freak. I didn’t want to do this and all I’ve gotten is shit for it. You really think he’s going to keep his mouth shut? Maybe next time you’ll get someone to crack my skull. That’d make the night complete."

"Come on, it can’t be that bad."

"Yeah, it can. I used to be gay, now I’m some kind of freak. I can’t have straight guys, unless I start turning tricks on 11th Avenue, and gay guys think I’m shit."

"Enough, Brian. Kenny’s an asshole and you blame yourself. Fuck him. You’re my friend and you did this for me. I know that. Jim knows that. And Kenny will sure as shit know that. Prick. When he came out, everyone except Jim treated him like shit. And then he has the nerve to pull this crap. Fuck him. I’m going to tell him off. Come on," she said angrily. "No one does that to my best friend."

We went back to the table. "Did everything come out OK?" Jim joked.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, Kenny?" Lisa asked.

"Excuse me, Lisa?"

"Did you think he’d keep quiet?"

"I’m guessing not," he said, suddenly nervously playing with his napkin.

"I guess not," she sneered. "You don’t know anything about anything. Instead, you just go after him."

"Um, I just thought..."

"You thought? You thought? I don’t think you thought about anything. You just shot your mouth off."

"Please, you expect me to believe that this is all for you and that he never did it before."

"Jim, is this true?" he said smugly.

"I’ve never seen him in a dress," he said, just before biting into his roll. He chewed and watched the argument like it was a movie.

Kenny’s face fell. "So, this is true?"

"Yes, Kenny, it is," Lisa said angrily. "I’m sorry to tell you it is. No wait, I’m happy to tell you it is. You just shot your mouth off. Quite frankly, I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather you not be at the wedding, much less be in it. But you’re Jim’s friend and I wouldn’t do that to him. Although you certainly don’t deserve Brian."

"Uh, thanks," I added nervously.

"I deserve that. Can I offer an explanation?" Kenny said meekly.

"Is there one to offer?"

"Um, it’s just that...it’s hard for you to understand. People hate gays already, and drag queens make it harder for regular guys."

"Regular guys? That’s classic, Kenny. Regular guys. Please." Lisa snapped. Kenny turned to Jim for help.

"Dude, you’re on your own."

"Thanks. Leave me hanging here."

"Sorry, but you’re wrong. I mean, I’d think you’d all stick together. It’s not like you can afford internal dissension. At least in public, although this wasn’t technically public. Plus after what you went through, I’d think you’d at least give Bri..Jessica the benefit of the doubt. In addition, correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t Stonewall started by drag queens? Not that you’re one Brian, but it seems like those in the vanguard have become outcasts. Like we’ll use you to man the barricades, but abandon you when we reach the Promised Land. Maybe that’s the nature of revolutions. But, to paraphrase my old rabbi, I suppose there’s no homophobe like another gay guy."

We all turned in shock towards Jim. "Oh sorry," he said sarcastically. "I forgot I’m the troglodyte who doesn’t know anything. Please continue your high level discussion here," he said, chewing his roll.

"Anyway," Lisa continued. "Are you out at work now?"

"Uh..."

"I thought not. Brian is. But you don’t even have the guts. Instead, you go after someone like Brian who has more class, integrity and courage than you ever will. What would you do for a friend?" Jim began humming ‘The Battle Hymn of the Republic.’ Until Lisa kicked his shin under the table.

"I’m really sorry. If you want, I’ll leave," he said, getting up.

"Stay," I said. I don’t know why. Maybe I thought watching him grovel could be fun. Maybe because I didn’t want to subject Jim to a public drubbing from Lisa. More likely, it was because, in spite of everything, I felt really attracted to him.

"Thank you," he said. As dinner progressed, the mood began to lighten. No matter how hard he tried, Lisa still refused to talk to him.

"So, how’re the plans coming along?" he’d ask. "Get a dress?"

"Yes." Lisa would snap. "Do you care? I mean, do you secretly want to wear it? Oh sorry, you’re a ‘regular’ gay."

"Down, girl," I said, with a smile. "He’d look ridiculous." That got me a glare from her.

Instead, he turned his attentions to me. He asked all sorts of questions about my job, the Mets, anything at all to keep the conversation going. I actually began to warm up to him.

After coffee, Lisa turned to me. "Please join me in the ladies’ room."

We went in. "Jim’s going to think you have a bladder condition."

"Stop," she said, putting up her hand. "What are you doing?"

"What am I doing about what?"

"Out there. He craps on you, and you flirt with him."

"We’re talking, not flirting. I was trying to make it less uncomfortable for you and Jim."

"That was pretty well shot when he threw his hissy fit."

"I agree. But, still..."

"Still, what?" she said, with exasperation. "Don’t say it..."

"I’m sorry. I feel something."

"Are you incapable of having a stable relationship with someone who knows who you are and is comfortable with that?"

"That was harsh." Probably true, but harsh. "I’m not saying anything’s going to happen."

"If he asked, you would."

"It’s not the same for me."

"What? Did I miss a memo? Is taking abuse a normal part of gay romance?"

"No...I just...I mean."

"Look," Lisa said. "I know he’s cute. When I first met him, I was disappointed to find out he was gay. But, you saw his true colors before you told him the truth. What does that tell you?"

"My god, Lise," I said. "I want him to fuck me, and you’ve got me at Kleinfeld’s already."

"A ha!" she said, with a grin. "I knew you wanted that dress. Admit it, you like this."

"Christ, Lise, it was a joke...besides, I’m going to Vera Wang...on you." I said, sticking out my tongue. "And wearing a six."

"Bitch," she said.

"Jealous," and we left the bathroom laughing. When we got back to the table, Jim spoke first.

"Everything OK?"

"It’s up to Jessica."

"I’m fine."

Kenny said, "I already paid. I figured that’s the bare minimum, and I mean that, that I could do."

I grabbed his tie, and pulled him towards me. "If I had known that, I’d have had dessert."

He blushed. "I don’t know. That dress doesn’t leave much room for dessert."

"Then I’d have to take it off."

Jim made a mock-gagging noise. "Look, I’m comfortable with you two..to a point."

"Jim’s just upset, because he’s only getting it missionary tonight," said Kenny.

Lisa actually laughed. "Who says he’s getting that?"

"I don’t need this shit," Jim grinned.

"Don’t mock what you ain’t gettin’," I said, with a smile, pulling Kenny closer to me. He actually started to sweat. "Am I making you nervous? Or something else?"

"I..uh.."

I felt under the table. I knew it would work. "Think of the lineup for the ‘79 Mets," I whispered in his ear. Then I kissed the lobe. He turned beet red.

He got up and pulled out my chair. He clearly was trying to think of the entire roster, not just the lineup. I swear I could hear "Doug Flynn...Joel Youngblood...Willie Montanez," coming from his brain.

We all started walking home. As is so often the case, Kenny and Jim ended up ahead of us. Lisa turned to me, "Please don’t do anything."

"About?"

"You know what. I know you’re horny, but please."

"He hasn’t offered and I’m not."

"What if he offers?"

I stared at the ground. "I don’t know. I feel something."

"Oh god, Brian," she said. "Please don’t give him the victory."

"It’s not a victory. It’s sex."

"Have some pride. You’ve lived this long without even knowing him. And it’s not like he’s George Clooney."

I smiled, "Mmmm...now that you couldn’t stop me."

She smiled back, "I wouldn’t try...except to get him for myself."

"What about Jim?"

"Jim wouldn’t mind. He actually once said that I could. Figured he wouldn’t look bad, since he had a woman George Clooney wanted."

"That’s our Jim."

"Anyway, please don’t do anything. At least not yet. You’d look pathetic."

I sighed. "I think this is premature, but OK."

We got back to the apartment and got into the elevator. Lisa and Jim got off first. "Good night," I said. "Talk to you in the morning. Good night Kenny. I guess I’ll see you at the wedding."

"Do you mind if I come up with you?"

"Uh.." Lisa stood behind him, violently flailing her arms and mouthing "NO!" until Jim pulled her in. The door closed.

"What do you want Kenny? To continue your tirade from before now that they’re gone."

"I deserve that," he said, as the door opened on my floor. We both got out.

"Thank you for a...well...an evening that’ll certainly give me something to talk about in therapy," I said, opening my door.

"Me too," he laughed. "Mind if I come in? Just to talk?"

"Not tonight," I said. "I’ve talked enough."

"I’m sorry."

"Uh huh. Are you? I mean, regardless of who I am, you shouldn’t be so judgmental."

"I...uh...yeah, I guess not. Anyway, if I can’t come in, how about brunch tomorrow?"

"Why should I?"

"It’s a free meal."

"True."

"Can I make one request?"

"Maybe. What?"

"Come as Brian. I’d like to meet Brian."

"Fine," I said warily. On the one hand, I resented his attitude. On the other hand, I wanted to be with someone as Brian.

"I’ll pick you up at noon."

"See you then...oh, one last thing," I said, giving him a peck on the lips. "Something to think about," I said with a grin.

He pulled me towards him and gave me a deep kiss that, like Crash Davis said, ‘lasted for three days.’ "Something for you to think about," he said, and he got into the elevator.