“Ugh,” Michael says. “That’s just sad.”
Ian and I both nod. We’ve had many, many conversations about the teachers and students alike being driven to desperate measures, or out of school entirely. If Ian didn’t enjoy working with the kids so much, he’d have walked out and gotten a job at Radio Shack or something just to keep his sanity. But he loves what he does, so he grinds his teeth through meetings with parents, indulges in some wine on the weekends and then loses himself in a little bit of weed over the summer.
The mood in the hot tub threatens to get depressing, but Rosie picks that exact moment to climb up the side of the gazebo. Though she does it every single time we’re out here, she still startles the hell out of all three of us.
Indifferently, Rosie wanders along the side, safely on the wood, and stops beside Michael. She bumps her head against his, and he reaches up to scratch her chin. As he does, she puts her front paws on the slippery edge and leans toward him, balancing precariously.
Ian gives an exasperated sigh. “You know, cat, one of these days, your dumb ass is going to fall into this tub.”
Michael shoots him a good-natured glare. “And you’ll laugh your head off, won’t you?”
“Well, you have to admit,” Ian says, bringing his glass up to his lips, “it would be funny.”
“Aww, no it wouldn’t.” Michael strokes her back with a wet hand, leaving her coat soaked. “He’s so mean to you.”
“Uh-huh.” I laugh. “Says the man who thinks it’s hilarious to pet her like that so she’ll go dry off on our furniture.”
“I just can’t believe she puts up with it.” Ian pauses. “Wait, no, never mind. Michael can do no wrong in her eyes.”
“Eh, you don’t have any room to complain.” I playfully nudge his leg with my foot. “At least she actually likes you.”
“Most of the time.” He nods toward Michael. “I mean, okay, she hates you, but she likes him better than me.”
“There’s a hierarchy.” Michael shrugs. “Not my fault I came out on top.”
Ian opens his mouth to retort, but pauses.
And then Michael turns beet red.
And then I get it.
Michael clears his throat. “I, uh…I meant in the—”
“Cat hierarchy.” Ian reaches for the wine bottle. “Got it.” He tops us all off, but even the wine can’t fill this unusual—and totally predictable—awkward silence. So much for things being completely normal.
Michael stares into his glass. “I, uh, don’t want to make things weird, but I think we should, you know, talk. About what’s going on.” He gestures at me.
Ian takes a deep swallow of wine. As he sets his glass on the edge, he nods. “Okay. We can talk about it.” His eyes dart back and forth between us. “What exactly…” He glances at his glass again, as if he might drain what’s left in one go. But he doesn’t. He slides a hand over my knee as he often does. “What do we need to talk about?”
Good question. We should address the issue, and we should be open about it, but what needs to be said?
They don’t offer up anything. Michael doesn’t look up from his glass. Ian can’t seem to get comfortable beside me.
My stomach twists and my heart races. “Well, for starters, maybe now would be a good time to address the condom issue.”
They both tense a bit.
“Condom issue?” Ian asks.
“Yeah.” I glance at Michael, then turn to my husband, lacing our fingers together beneath the water. “Do you have any preference? As far as whether or not we use them?”
“Oh.” Ian absently rubs my thumb with his. “Um. Not really, no. I know Josh is clean.”
“And I haven’t touched anyone in years,” Michael says.
“Then if you guys don’t want to use them, I…” Ian pauses, reaching for his glass with his other hand. “I guess I don’t have any issue with that.”
“We don’t have to. It’s completely up to you.”
Ian’s eyes lose focus, and he slowly sips his wine. For a few seconds, he rolls it around in his mouth. Michael and I exchange uncertain glances.
But then Ian shrugs and puts the glass aside again. “I trust you both. If you’re comfortable going bareback, then I’m comfortable with it too.”
“If that changes,” I say quietly, “all you have to do is tell us.”
Ian nods, a faint smile forming on his lips, and he squeezes my knee beneath the water. “I will. But I don’t think it’ll be a problem.”
Even still, silence falls again, and it stretches well into awkward. I’m not sure we have enough wine for this conversation. Maybe it should have waited until after the school year.
Except it can’t wait. We need to clear the air and make sure we’re all on the same page before this continues, because I refuse to let this damage my friendship or my marriage.