Second Chance by Chet Williamson Read Free Book Online Page B

claimed, his assistance in those matters was highly lucrative.
    So they remained together, made love less than they had before, and talked far less.
    They decided to go to Woody's party, despite the fact that the wording of the invitation had inadvertently ripped open the old wounds that oozed when Alan went to work every day. The evening would be a novelty, and Alan hoped that reminders of times past might bring them closer together, so that life could be a bit more well-lived, and some ease could come back into their conversations.
    On this particular flight, for example, their dialogue, other than that necessitated by courtesy, consisted of the following: "I hope this will be fun," said Alan.
    "It'll either be fun or a wake."
    "Why a wake?"
    "Woody never got over Tracy. God, you know that."
    And that was the extent of their discourse until forty-five minutes later, when Alan said, "We're landing."
    ~*~
    Eddie Phelps's flight from Kennedy arrived in Pittsburgh at the same time as Sharla Jackson's shuttle from Cleveland, and they met, as had been planned, at the TWA luggage carrousels. When they saw and recognized each other, Eddie squealed almost as loudly as Sharla , they dropped their luggage, and embraced. Sharla laughed. "Still gay, I see," she said.
    "Still black, I see," Eddie replied.
    On their drive to Iselin, they caught up on their careers and romances, the former of which were the same as four years before when they had last talked, and the latter of which, on Sharla's part, were modest.
    "No, Eddie, I still ain't found myself a man. Unlike you."
    “'Ain't?' You use that in front of your students?"
    "Shoot, no." Sharla's next words were given in a nearly perfect British dialect. "I know how to speak the Queen's English as well as anyone, my dear, and in class I do." She shifted to street talk. "Hell, I got to. My classes are all white kids except for one little girl, and her daddy's a dentist. I think they cloned her from Rudy Huxtable . Or vice-versa. Little chocolate ofay ."
    "Don't change the subject. We were talking about getting you laid."
    "Oh, hell, I get laid . I just don't get married . Never found a man strong enough to keep up with me for more'n a few nights. Men don't like strong women. We scare 'em away."
    They drove for a while before Sharla spoke again. "You know how many of us are gonna be at this shindig?"
    "Only eight or nine," Eddie said. "Woody invited over a dozen, but some people couldn't come."
    "Not into nostalgia, huh?"
    "Maybe. Or not into necrophilia."
    Sharla was silent for a moment. "What do you mean?"
    "I mean lost loves. The same kind of thing that's currently running through my own dear little gay community. Those not lost, but gone before."
    "Like Tracy . . . and Keith."
    Eddie nodded. "And Dale, too."
    "Dale," Sharla said thoughtfully, as though she had not thought about him for a long time. "God, he was nice. I really liked him."
    It had been impossible not to like Dale Collini . He had been two years older than most of them, but taught English at a nearby high school, and so had remained active on campus. Dale and his wife came every weekend to parties at the apartment. Sharla heard later that they had divorced. "How did he die, anyway?" she asked Eddie.
    He gave a theatrical sigh. "It was a year after he and Karen split up. He was going to Pitt to get a theatre degree—you know he always wanted to be an actor—and one weekend he just got sick, went to the hospital, and died that night. Leukemia. You never know, do you? You just never know . . ."
    "Are, uh . . .” Sharla cleared her throat. "Are you okay?"
    Eddie turned and looked at her with a wry smile. "You mean HIV-negative? Yes, fortunately I am, and I intend to stay that way. I have been living with a wonderful friend and lover for the past eleven years, and we are both negative and very, very monogamous. Unlike some ebony-skinned sluts I could name."
    Sharla laughed. Eddie had the gift of saying the most outrageous