Edge of Darkness by J. T. Geissinger Page A

know so much about men and women’s relationships anyway? I mean, seeing as how you only date men? ”
    Asher cocked his head and smiled at her, slightly sad, and very knowing. “I’ve been around a long time, honey, and I’ve seen a lot of things. I was thirty years old before I came out of the closet, and I dated my share of women before then, let me tell you. Being gay wasn’t accepted back in the day the way it is now, especially in the States. There was a time a man could be arrested just for dancing with another man in public, and I lived through that. I lived in the Village when the police raided Stonewall and sparked the riots. I grew up in a time before Gay Pride, activism, and tolerance, back when the FBI kept records of openly out gays and the Post Office kept track of addresses where materials they labeled ‘homosexual’ were sent. I served in the Marines for eight years and every single day of that time I was scared shitless someone would find out I was gay and deem me unfit to serve my country.”
    Ember looked at Asher’s full head of dark hair, the smooth, unlined skin around his eyes, his baby soft hands and muscular limbs. “Ash, I know you once bit my head off for asking this question, but exactly how old are you? I thought you were like, I don’t know, fifteen years older than me?”
    He beamed. “Oh, honey, that is so sweet! I’m telling you, if you take care of your skin you can look young forever. Sunscreen is your friend. And…I may have had a little maintenance nip and tuck here and there.”
    When she raised her brows, Asher said defensively, “If the roof of your house collapses you don’t just leave it there and say it’s aging gracefully, right? No, you fix that sucker up! Also, remember these two very important words: Bo. Tox.”
    He waved a hand, indicating this part of the conversation was over. “Anyway, after thirty years of living a lie, do you know who the first person I told the truth to was?”
    Ember shook her head.
    “My mother. God bless her, she acted as if I’d just told her I passed the Bar. She said, ‘Finally!’ gave me a hug and a kiss, and that was that. And then I called all the girls I’d dated in college and afterward and told them, too. Every single one of them —except Mary Catherine Campbell, she was always an uptight little priss—told me they were happy for me and wished me well. There were a few tears, a few mutters of ‘I thought something was odd,’ but on the whole they were amazing. So I have experience in relationships on both sides of the aisle, but women have always been my best friends. Just like gay men, they understand what it’s like to be marginalized. They know what it’s like to have to keep their mouths shut and their heads down and their true hearts locked up tight. They know how it feels to smile so hard their cheeks hurt while inside they’re dying.”
    He closed his eyes and let out a long, heavy sigh. “Or maybe it’s just because they dress so much better than most men.” He glanced over Ember’s outfit of sweats and a T-shirt and sent her an affectionate smile. “Present company excluded, of course.”
    Ember felt a sudden, warm tenderness for him, this comrade-in-arms who’d learned all about pain and shame and loss. It pierced her heart like a spear and she had to make a joke in order to lighten the mood and hold back the tears. “I don’t know, Ash, that outfit of yours isn’t going to win any fashion awards.”
    He pretended outrage. “This kimono is Gaultier , honey!”
    She smiled. “I should’ve guessed.”
    “And don’t think I’ve forgotten your promise of movies and tapas , baby girl. Get on it.” He shooed her off the couch and lay down with his bare feet up on the arm at one end while Ember went to the kitchen and dug around in the junk drawer for the takeout menu.
    Just as she was about to dial the number to the restaurant, the phone in her hand rang. She looked down at it, saw who was