Gossip by Christopher Bram

head taller than he was.
    “This is Bill,” I explained. “My friend Nick. His friend Maura.” I left off their last names on the slight chance that one of them might have heard of the other.
    Nick and Bill scanned each other as they shook hands, Bill wary, Nick amused. Maura looked bored, as if a dog-loving friend had stopped to fuss over a spaniel on the street.
    “You live in New York?” Nick asked while I hurriedly paid.
    “Washington,” Bill said in his stuffiest voice. “I’m up for the weekend on business.”
    “Spic-and-span D.C.,” Nick scoffed. “This must be like the lower depths for you.”
    “It’s different,” Bill snootily declared.
    “Uh-huh. Well. Have a nice visit.” Nick decided this boy was not worth his time. “Maura and I were talking attrition, Ralph. We could really use someone who knows the ropes on our committee. Couldn’t we, Maura?”
    This was for her benefit; Nick no longer pressured me when we were alone.
    “Definitely,” said Maura. “Too many alpha wolves and not enough betas. And most of the alphas have walked.”
    “I wasn’t good for much except stuffing envelopes,” I said.
    “Stuffing envelopes is good,” said Nick. “Not as much fun as stuffing other things, but necessary.” He grinned lewdly.
    “Got to go,” I said. “I’ll think about it.” I put a hand at Bill’s back to send him out.
    “So we shouldn’t expect you at breakfast tomorrow?”
    “Probably not. But I’ll see Peter at work. Good night.”
    I followed Bill outside into a gust of arctic air and dumb remorse. Who cared if two contradictory pieces of my life had just met and stared straight through each other? So what if I spent a weekend in Miami while my friends froze?
    Bill stepped away from me, pulling up his hood and turning his back to the wind.
    “I live around the corner,” I told him. “I’d invite you up, but the place is a mess.”
    “Cold,” he said. “Why don’t we go back to the hotel? You are coming back, aren’t you?”
    “Of course.” Had I said something wrong?
    “I thought you might change your mind after seeing your pals,” he said haughtily.
    “Don’t be silly. They have nothing to do with—us.”
    “I didn’t like them. I could tell they didn’t like me.”
    “But they don’t even know you.” Thank God.
    “The way that guy looked at me. Like I was an insect.”
    “Nick looks at everyone like that. He looks at me like that.” Which was true, but I wondered if Bill had picked up on something I missed. Did Nick know who Bill was? No, he would’ve torn into him if he had.
    I went to the curb to flag down a cab that skated to a halt. I held the door open and Bill climbed in. He sat stiffly while I gave directions to the driver. My kicking and poking at his magazine didn’t threaten Bill, but a nasty look from Nick Rosi was enough to send him into a sulk.
    “New Yorkers,” I claimed. “We’re not as polite as people in other cities.”
    “Is he an old boyfriend?”
    “Nick? Oh no. Not Nick. We know each other from ACT UP. His lover works with me at the bookstore.”
    “I see.” Bill took my hand and held it in his lap. He thumbed my knuckles through the glove. “Sorry. I don’t know why I reacted to him like that. Except I hate it when people look down their nose at me. I know you have this other life that has nothing to do with me. I certainly have mine.”
    “Which I’ll get to see in Miami,” I said.
    He clutched my hand tightly, reassured to remember that. “I’m not going to inflict them on you. We’ll have better things to do than hobnob with politicos and blue-haired ladies.”
    By the time we walked through the white dazzle and red carpets of the lobby at the Plaza, Bill had regained his smooth cheerfulness, although I was still confused by his hatred of Nick and my feeling that I’d been disloyal to someone, either Nick or Bill, I wasn’t sure which.
    It was early, but I proposed we get ready for bed. We brushed our