Work Text:
Vivat Rex
by Gigi Sinclair
gigitrek@gmail.com
http://www.angelfire.com/trek/gigislash
Bree was unlike any woman Rex had ever known, which was why he'd married her. When his friends complained about girlfriends who were always hassling them to do the laundry or clean the toilet or dry the dishes, Rex told them Bree preferred to take care of all that herself. She took care of everything. Rex was just expected to follow along, and that was fine with him.
Bree hadn't changed in all the years they'd been married, Rex knew that. He also knew that he had changed, at least in part. He wasn't interested in following along any more, and, as he got older, feelings he'd spent his entire life suppressing started to become more insistent. He'd moved out to give them both some space to think, but deep down, Rex didn't really want a divorce. He wasn't worried about losing his kids; he knew they'd choose to come with him, and he couldn't do that to Bree.
But he couldn't keep doing this to himself, either.
"Going out for lunch, Rex?" Darlene, in her low-walled clerical cubicle, said as Rex passed through the lobby.
Rex swallowed. "I'm, ah, meeting my wife."
He was sure Darlene must know he was lying, but she just smiled and turned back to her computer screen. "That's great. Say 'hi' to her for me."
"Sure." The wait for the elevator seemed ridiculously long. When it finally arrived, Rex got in and threw a calculatedly casual, raised-eyebrow grin in Darlene's direction. She wasn't looking.
The Resource Centre was twelve blocks from the office. Rex had passed it every day for years, and it had taken him exactly that long to work up the courage to go in. Even now, he stood in front of the large plate-glass windows, covered by beige vertical blinds like you'd find in a real estate office or a travel agent's, for a full minute, trying to bring himself to open the door. Finally, a well-dressed woman with glasses came out, glanced at him, and held the door, which meant he had no choice but to go in or look like an even bigger moron.
Inside, the centre was nothing like Rex had imagined. If not for the small rainbow flag sticker on the window, Rex thought, he could easily have mistaken it for the travel agency. There were racks of pamphlets against one wall and a youngish man in a dark green golf shirt was sitting at a desk on the other side of the room. Rex could do this, he thought. This was going to be OK. He took a deep breath and a confident step forward.
Then the man looked up and said: "Hi," and Rex felt like he was about to have a stroke.
So, he thought as he tried not to hyperventilate, maybe not so OK after all.
"Yes. Ah, right. Hello."
"Can I help you with something?"
"Just, ah, just looking." Rex picked up the nearest pamphlet to prove it, realized it was entitled "Gender Reassignment Surgery: What You Absolutely Need to Know" and dropped it like it was on fire.
Or, he thought, like Bree would have dropped a store-bought fruitcake. Then he realized he was probably near hysterics and said: "Thanks, I'd better go."
"OK," the man said. "If you need anything, we'll be here."
"Great. Thanks," Rex repeated, even though he was definitely never setting foot in here again.
He turned back to the door. Next to where he'd come in was a poster, showing two good-looking men, arms around each others' shoulders, a teenage girl, and a middle-aged woman who looked like her mother. They all seemed perfectly happy and that was just what Rex wanted. He wanted his family, he loved Bree and the kids, but he also wanted what he'd never had.
A man.
"Can I offer you a drink of water?" The young man said. Rex turned back to him.
"All right."
The man got up from his desk and went over to the water cooler. Rex hesitated a moment, then stepped forward. The man handed him the plastic cup and pushed out the chair on the other side of his desk.
"I haven't seen you in here before. My name's David."
For a brief moment, Rex thought about giving a false name, but that would be pointless. He was here because he was ready to be honest, he told himself. More or less. "I'm Rex." Like a dog, as Bree used to say, until he pointed out that being named for a cheese wasn't much better.
David smiled. He wasn't particularly handsome, but he looked friendly, and when he said: "Have a seat," Rex sat.
"You're married?" David asked, conversationally. Rex grabbed the water glass, his grip clearly too hard for the flimsy plastic cup. It cracked, Rex said: "Damn it!" and the water dripped over his hand and onto the beige Berber carpet.
"It's fine," David said, immediately, even as Rex said:
"I'm sorry."
"It's just water, Rex." And Rex could imagine what the reaction would have been if he'd done that at home. "Here." David held out his hand. Rex passed over the leaking cup and watched, blinking, as David poured the rest of the water onto the carpet, leaving a wet patch next to Rex's chair, and tossed the cup into the wastebasket beside the cooler.
"Oh." At that point David would have been permanently banned from Bree's home, and would have been openly cold-shouldered whenever they chanced to meet in public.
And that made him strangely interesting. "I'm married," Rex continued, rubbing his palms on his thighs as David leaned back in his chair. "I don't really want to get divorced."
David shrugged. "So don't. What brings you here?"
Rex breathed deeply. He could say he wasn't sure, but that would be a lie, and one he'd been telling for years.
So instead, Rex decided to try something new. He looked David in the eye and said: "I'm gay."
For a second, the words sounded strange to Rex. He'd never said them out loud before, at least not where another living human being could hear. When the world didn't screech to a halt, the sky didn't open and David didn't look the least bit surprised, Rex said them again. "I'm gay, and married, and I don't know what the hell to do."
David grinned, and Rex felt a tremor in his stomach he hadn't felt for years. Yes, he confirmed, definitely very gay. "Then," David said, picking up another plastic cup, "You came to the right place, Rex."
***
An hour had never passed so fast. Before Rex knew it, it was time to go back to the office. "I'd really like you to come back and see me some time," David said, when Rex told him he needed to leave. David took a pen and scribbled something on the back of a pink-triangle-embossed business card. "That's my private number," he said, as he handed the card to Rex. "You can call me anytime." Rex looked up, a little shocked, and saw a faint blush on David's cheeks.
As he left the Resource Centre, Rex felt about fifty pounds lighter and twenty years younger. He pocketed the card and resisted the urge to skip down the street to the parking metre.
He was unlocking his car door when a female voice called: "Rex!" He looked up and, just like that, all the good of the last hour was undone as he saw Susan heading towards him, smiling politely.
"Susan." Rex hoped he didn't sound as dismayed as he felt.
"What are you doing here?"
Panicked, Rex tried to think of some plausible reason why he'd be in this part of town at this time of day. He was about to say he'd taken up smoking and had been visiting the tobacconist's on the corner when one of those handymen from the neighbourhood, Mike Rex thought it was, came out of the store, a packet of gum in hand.
"Hey." The man nodded disinterestedly at Rex. Susan, on the other hand, blushed deeply and said, hurriedly:
"Well, we really have to go. I'll see you later, Rex." She hustled Mike away, and Rex got into his car and headed back to the office.
And, at regular intervals throughout the afternoon, he took out David's business card, looked at it, and returned it to his shirt pocket.
END