B & G, page 28
After a suitable time, they asked to be excused. I was staying at Gabe’s that night, so we’d told them they could have my place. We both knew they were grateful to Gabe for the wine and food and to me for being allowed to use my apartment, but we could also tell they wanted to have their own celebration. Alone. Together. Who could blame them?
* * * *
Rae
The second semester was as busy as the first.
I had at least taken Brent’s suggestion and asked Dean Bledsoe if I could postpone my solo recital until the following fall since the quartet was doing two recitals that year. She was a little reluctant, but she went along with my request. That was quite a relief. Now all I had to do was concentrate on my cello majors, the quartet’s upcoming recital, and my social life.
The majors were fun for the most part, though I had a couple of guys who were a problem. I think one had a terrible crush on me, and the other tried to hit on me until I firmly put a stop to that.
Bruce McDermott and I dated regularly that semester. Perhaps dated isn’t the word. We became lovers. Bruce was a talented writer. He was a kind, considerate man. Although he didn’t look particularly sexy, he was a very satisfying lover. But there just wasn’t any spark between us. I think he was perfectly happy with the relationship. He didn’t seem to want it to go any further than it had. I was just someone to grace his arm, so to speak, at campus functions, and I was a convenient lay. I had to admit it was convenient and reasonably pleasant for me, too, but I wanted more, so I decided at the end of the semester to break up with him.
What I really wanted was Brent Collins, and, alas, he wasn’t available to me. He was obviously happily in love with Gabe Sutton. What a waste of good male flesh that those two were lovers! I loved them both, and I was glad they were so devoted to each other, but for two gorgeous men like that to be unavailable to the women of the university was a crying shame.
Speaking of Brent…
The quartet had been rehearsing for our spring recital all semester. We were playing the Mozart quintet for horn and strings, one of the late Beethoven quartets, and the Ravel. At the first scheduled rehearsal after spring break, Aaron Cohen, our first violin and the de facto leader of the group, had bad news for us. Roger Burton had fallen from a ladder while painting his kitchen during the break and had broken his left arm. It was in a cast and a sling. There was no way he was going to be able to play in the upcoming recital.
We were all dismayed, of course, not only for Roger but because that would mean we’d have to prepare something other than the Mozart, and that would be a bit difficult in the three weeks before the recital. Simon Weeks, our viola player, pointed out there were several pieces we’d worked on the previous year and put aside. Perhaps, he suggested, we could dust off one of them.
“I have another idea,” I said. They all looked at me expectantly. “I wonder if Brent Collins would do the Mozart. He told me he was more or less familiar with the piece, having worked on it with his horn professor at Columbia.” They all remembered Brent’s playing in the Schumann the previous semester and thought that would be a great idea. Selfishly, it would mean we members of the quartet could go ahead and do the Mozart. If anyone was put in a bind, it would be Brent, not us. They deputized me to approach him about it.
I felt guilty about asking, because I knew he had his own classes and students to deal with, and I hated to put him on the spot. I rationalized, however, he could always say no, and I wouldn’t hold it against him if he did. But it was worth a try.
“Wow! You guys are so good! Are you sure you want me to play with you?”
“Yes, Brent. You’d really be helping us out.”
“Any port in a storm, huh?” he asked, grinning. Before I could answer, he went on. “But we only have three weeks? And you’re working on the Beethoven and the Ravel, which are much more difficult. Will you be willing to schedule extra practices on the Mozart?”
“I don’t think that will be a problem. The others all understand that we’re putting you under some pressure.”
“Well, I’ll be happy to do it. It will be an honor to play with your quartet, and I admit I’ve always wanted to do that piece.”
So that’s how it all came about.
The rehearsals went well. Brent didn’t display the artistic temperament that Roger had. He pretty much went along with what the group had already worked out. He blended in so well with our ideas that I, for one, though sorry about Roger’s accident, was happy Brent was going to play with us. Not only was he easy to get along with, but he played beautifully, too. He’d told me shortly after we met that Mozart was his favorite composer, and that came out in his playing.
* * * *
Dane
From spring break until the end of the term was a pretty exciting time.
First there was the student recital Kurt and I had to play in. Getting ready for that made me nervous, but both Brent and Kurt helped a lot. Everything went okay, though. We got nice applause when it was over, and then Brent and Gabe had a little party for us afterward. They had some stuff I’d never had before. Brie is a kind of soft, white cheese that went really well with the crackers they served with it. They even gave us champagne! I’d had that once before at home when my folks had a New Year’s Eve party and let me have some champagne with the adults. This tasted a lot better. Anyway, I liked it. And it was so cool being there with my elegant Kurt and those two great-looking men. They also had caviar, which Kurt really enjoyed. I almost gagged when I tried it. I swallowed what I had on my cracker and must have made a face because Gabe smiled and winked at me when he saw it.
The evening didn’t end there, either. After we left Gabe’s house we went back to Brent’s apartment where I spent a good part of the night letting Kurt know how grateful I was for his help with the recital and how much I loved him.
The second big deal at the Con that spring was that Brent had to fill in for Professor Burton and play a Mozart piece with the faculty string quartet. He only had three weeks to get ready. I asked him one day in the studio if he was nervous, and he admitted he was. He said he knew the piece from grad school, but he was nervous about having a more or less featured role. I told him I knew he’d be great. He actually blushed, I think, when he thanked me.
The evening of the quartet recital Kurt and I got there early to get good seats. We saw Gabe in the lobby, and asked if we could sit with him. He said that was great with him but he was going to sit near the back so he could slip out after the Mozart, which was first on the program, to go to the Green Room.
The players were arranged in a sort of horseshoe with the open end toward the audience. Brent was just to the right of the top of the horse shoe, so from left to right it was the first violinist, the two violists, Brent, and the cellist. They all looked great. The two women were wearing black dresses, and the men were all in tails. Professor Menzies was a beautiful woman, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Brent. I’d always thought he was sex on wheels, and he looked especially good that night. Kurt sort of nudged me and grinned. I knew he knew what I was looking at and what I was thinking.
Oh, yeah, the music was great, too.
* * * *
Gabe
When I left the hall after the Mozart, I suggested the boys should stay and listen to the Beethoven and the Ravel and then come to the Green Room. They agreed. I think Dane really wanted to come and congratulate Brent, but Kurt wanted to hear the other two works on the program, so they both stayed.
Brent wasn’t in the Green Room when I got there, nor was he in the nearby restroom. I was puzzled for a moment, and then I got an idea. Sure enough, he was standing backstage where he could watch and listen to the quartet play the Beethoven. There was a student at the door from the hallway into the stage area, and he didn’t want to let me in. I flashed my B & G card at him and told him I needed to check something. He got an eyeful when I went up behind Brent in the darkened backstage area, put my arms around him, and kissed the back of his neck.
Then I just stood next to him with my arm around his waist, whispered, “You were fabulous, babe,” and we listened to the Beethoven.
At intermission we went back to the Green Room where the other members of the quartet were relaxing, fiddling with their instruments, and sipping bottled water. When Brent walked in, they all told him how well he’d done and thanked him for taking on the challenge on such short notice. He thanked them for asking him to do it.
We stood in the back of the packed auditorium for the second half of the program, which was Ravel’s lovely quartet. When that was over, while the audience was still applauding, Kurt and Dane spotted us and came back. We stepped into the lobby. Both boys hugged Brent and told him what a fabulous job he’d done. We all tried to get back in the Green Room, but by that time it was mobbed with student and faculty well-wishers.
Brent and I had been invited to a post-recital party at the home of Aaron Cohen, the quartet’s first violinist, so we said goodnight to the boys and Brent thanked them for being there. For the first time, they both hugged me as well as Brent.
The party at the Cohens’ was long, loud, and alcoholic. I knew most of the people there. Or I should say I knew all the faculty there, by face and name at least, though several of them looked at me as if they’d never seen me before and were wondering who I was. There were two other same-sex couples, if my instincts could be trusted, but Brent and I were the only male pair. Roger Burton was there, arm still in a sling. He made a point of telling Brent what a good job he’d done. I thought that was pretty gracious of him. I’d heard he could be a prick sometimes, but that evening he was as nice as could be.
When we were undressing at home, I was finally able to ask Brent how he felt about it all.
“I’m on a real high, sweetheart. I never thought I would have any future with my horn, and that’s one of the reasons why I did my doctorate in music history. Don’t get me wrong. I love teaching, and I’ve got several articles I want to write and try to get published. But there’s nothing quite like the rush you get during and after a performance when everything goes well. So things like the Schumann last semester and the Mozart tonight are bonuses, things I didn’t expect when I took this job.”
“Baby, I’m so proud of you. After tonight, I’ll bet you’ll be asked to play more and more.”
“Well, Roger is the main hornist on the faculty, and I’d not want to step on his toes. But I do look forward to playing more. There’s nothing quite like playing in a chamber group. To me it’s more rewarding than solo work. And with a group the size of the one tonight, you really get attuned to what the others are thinking and feeling. There’s no conductor up there telling you what to do. You just have to sense what the others are doing and become a part of the ensemble. It’s really great!”
I grabbed him and kissed him. “Can you sense what I’m feeling right now?”
He chuckled. “I’d have to be unconscious not to feel that log you’re poking me with. Let’s go to bed.”
* * * *
Brent
Gabe reminded me in May that the tenants in the other side of his duplex would be moving out by the end of the month. He suggested that I rent it from him. He even said that if the rent was too much he’d make an accommodation for me. Actually, however, the rent wasn’t excessive, and the idea of being under the same roof with him was wonderful. That way, we could be together as often as we wanted while appearing to live separately.
What the world didn’t know was that Gabe had a door put between his unit and mine, so, though each of us had his own furniture, his own space, we were actually living together. I wasn’t much concerned about what the world thought anyway, and now Ralph and Jay Bonner and probably Gabe’s whole crew knew we were a couple, I didn’t think we needed to worry about it anymore. I was more than willing to proclaim to the world that Gabe Sutton was my man, and I think he must have been feeling the same way.
I suggested to Dane he and Kurt might want to rent the apartment I’d had. He was excited by the suggestion, but he thought money might be a problem for him, if not for Kurt. He asked me to give him a little time to see what he could arrange before I told my landlord I was moving out. That gave me an idea which I discussed with Gabe.
“Lover, would your dad have any summer jobs for college guys?”
“Why, do you need a summer job, baby?”
I gave him a hit on the shoulder and said, “No, of course not. You know I’m teaching music ap. in summer session.”
“So who’s the guy needing a job, as if I couldn’t guess?”
“I think Dane and Kurt would like to rent my apartment. They really want to live together, and Kurt’s share wouldn’t be much more than he’s paying to live in the dorm. But Dane’s been living at home, and he needs a summer job to make some money to put toward rent on the apartment.”
“Well, dad usually does hire on some college guys for summer help. But Dane looks a little small for the kind of labor that might be involved. It isn’t always gopher work, you know. Sometimes it’s pretty physical.”
“I don’t think he’d mind, if there were something available.”
The upshot was Dane was eager to work, and Gabe’s dad found a job for him with Sutton Construction for the summer. Kurt enrolled in the summer session so he could continue to study with Nadia, and Dane moved out of his family home so he and Kurt could move into the apartment. That meant Dane had almost an hour’s commute each way, but it was summer, and he didn’t mind that at all, especially since he and Kurt were together every night and had their weekends to spend with each other.
* * * *
Gabe
I think of this as primarily Brent’s story. You’ve figured out that B & G stands not just for Buildings and Grounds but for Brent and Gabe as well, I suppose. Somehow, though, I’ve wound up having the final word.
It was the best year in my life so far, a happy year for some people I care about. A very unlikely couple, somehow Jay Bonner and Guy Mannington have gotten together. They make a study in contrasts, the tall, thin black man and the short muscular blond. Quiet, unassuming Jay, or JB as Guy likes to call him, managed to turn Guy from his philandering ways and make him happily monogamous. Or so Jay kept telling me, with great enthusiasm, at work.
Dane and Kurt were so adorable as they lived and loved and made music that summer and throughout their college careers, Brent and I felt like proud parents, or at least proud big brothers as we watched and mentored them.
And I—well, whoever would have thought at the beginning of the year I would be so happy, so much in love as I became with Dr. Brent Collins? This was the real thing, and both of us knew it. We understood there would always be problems in the life of any couple, but we were ready to face them as a loving couple, and we were confident nothing insurmountable would come along.
The biggest thing looming on the distant horizon was what would happen when I left my job at B & G and went to work with my dad. I’d always assumed that eventually I’d step into the business, but I was having too much fun working at the university to do it right away. Down the road, however, both Brent and I knew Dad would retire and I’d take over the business.
It wasn’t all that bad, though. Medina was only about an hour from campus, and Dane, after all, was making that drive five days a week all that summer. If Brent didn’t want to let me build us a house in Medina, I’d understand that. In fact, I’d probably worry about him doing that driving in the winter. So, Sutton Construction could build us a house near the university, or perhaps somewhere between the two cities.
Brent and I knew we’d work all that out when the time came. We knew that because we were a committed couple, because we loved each other.
THE END
ABOUT TIM MEAD
An ex-academic, Tim Mead once lived in West Virginia, Pennsylvania, New York, Ohio, and Kansas. He passed away in 2022, but at the time he lived mostly in a vegetative state. Well, actually, he lived in Florida. There are those who think Florida is a vegetative state.
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Tim Mead, B & G
