Two Days After the Flight
Friday morning dawned cold and dreary, typical for a Wisconsin winter. Steph had been gone for two days, and Fred was waiting for me. I threw a red-and-white Wisconsin Badgers baseball cap over my unshowered head, grabbed her house key from the drawer where I kept it, and strolled over to her side of the townhouse. The package with the alarm clock she had ordered was leaning against the front door.
I called for Fred, he came down, and we completed our morning ritual. He was happily munching his food as I walked over to inspect the plants Steph kept lined up by the window. My neighbor was a lot of things, but a nurturer of plants, definitely not. I sighed as I saw how they needed to be pruned, watered, and, in one case, repotted. Poor plant, it was bursting at the seams of the way-too-small terra-cotta pot it sat in.
“I’m sorry, buddy,” I whispered to the plant. “I’ll get you some help when your mama gets home tomorrow.”
Filling the watering can Steph kept under the kitchen sink, I did what I could, watering and plucking, then glanced around the rest of her lower level.
Steph’s style was a bit too Pottery Barn for my taste. I preferred eclectic, my townhouse a mix of posters from musicals, brightly colored vases from Mexico, rugs from a market in Jordan, and masks from Africa, remnants of travels with boyfriends of the past. I tried to block out the boyfriends and focus on the travel memorabilia. The pieces reminded me of some of the exotic locales I was able to frequent thanks to my tech salary and me being a SINK (single income, no kids). I went on long trips once or twice per year, and Steph repaid my cat kindness by taking care of Evita.
She really was the best neighbor. I was thrilled to have met her. Moving to Madison for this new job had felt scary, even at my age of fifty. You never knew how people would treat you as a gay man, but I had heard it was a progressive city, so I decided to test the waters by wearing my “Gay and Gray. Wanna Stay?” T-shirt that an ex had given me for a birthday.
When Steph not only wasn’t scared away but seemed to genuinely find it, and me, to be funny, I knew I had a friend for life.
Although I had never been into women, I had a hard time understanding how she remained single. She seemed like such a darn good catch. Pretty, successful, smart, funny. It bothered me how her TV station took advantage of her being single and sent her on so many trips, always asking her to stand in for those who didn’t want to jump on a plane or represent the company at meetings. I wondered if she would meet a guy on one of these journeys. I knew someone would eventually scoop her up. It made me happy to think of her feeling fulfilled with a new man but also sentimental to think of a guy who might mean the end of Broadway and Bubbly one day.
Fred jumped on the chair next to where I was standing, plopping down in a ball of fur, licking his paw and looking so cute that I had to take my phone out and snap a picture to text to Steph.
Hi Mama, I miss you. I’ll see you tomorrow! Love Freddie (and your favorite cat-sitter)
It was eight a.m. in Madison, which meant only six a.m. in San Diego, but I sent it off anyway, figuring Steph would appreciate the text when she woke up. She had already posted a picture from the conference on Facebook. It was a sign outside of a ballroom that said “Welcome to the News Coverage Summit.” I liked it and added a comment wishing her a good trip. I certainly hoped she was getting out for some sun and warm weather too. That would make one of us.
Opening the drawer where I knew Steph kept scissors, I went back to the Amazon box and extracted a large alarm clock that had a decorative wooden base and a globe on top. There were a multitude of buttons for setting the time and level of light you wanted, and you could sync it up to your phone. Turning it over in my hands a few times to see it from all angles, I picked up my phone again and texted.
Opened your package. It’s bigger than I thought. Lots of options and settings. I think you’ll love it. It will make you feel great. Would you like me to put it next to your bed?
Kneeling to pet Fred for another minute and enjoying his deep purr, I told him I’d be back before my date that night and went out the front door, locking it softly behind me.
As I walked back to my place, I wondered what Steph would get me from California. Her gifts were usually silly little trinkets. I suspected she bought many in airport gift shops, but I tried to keep in mind the old adage that it was the thought that counted. My cupboard had four mugs with city names plastered across them, my bar area contained cheesy WELCOME TO LAS VEGAS shot glasses, and my refrigerator was sprinkled with magnets from cities across the US.
I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but none of these things were items I would have spent money on, nor had any need for. She could have saved herself the trouble. I would have fed Fred for nothing. In fact, I probably would have done just about anything she asked of me.
Back home, I made a Nespresso and fed Evita. She settled on the kitty condo in her favorite spot at the window as I sat down to begin my workday. Just as I got through emails, my phone pinged with a text. Glancing down, I saw it was Steph and I smiled.
Thanks for the pic! So cute. Hey—I know this is super unexpected but I met an amazing guy at the conference and I’m actually going back to his place with him! Can you watch Fred for a little longer? I’ll be back in touch to let you know when I’m returning. Thank you so much! And regarding the package, go ahead and put it in the bedroom. Maybe I won’t need it anymore now that I met this guy, ha ha! Thanks.
“What the heck?” I almost dropped the phone. She met a guy and was going to travel home with him after just being there since Wednesday? And what did she mean about the alarm clock? Was she implying that she might just sleep in for the rest of her life? Or that she would move in with this guy and use his alarm clock? Regardless, this was amazing news. I couldn’t even believe it. I typed back as quickly as I could.
Girlfriend, you call me right now. I want every detail.
Five minutes ticked by, then ten. I texted again.
Don’t you dare ignore me when you have news like that!
Another fifteen minutes. I couldn’t focus on my work. I got up and paced, then tried calling her. It went right to voicemail. I couldn’t stop myself from texting one more time.
You can’t drop a bomb on me and then ghost, uh-uh, ain’t fair. Who is this guy?? Is he cute? Is he a news director? Does he have a nice tush? At least tell me his name and where he’s from.
It wasn’t until that afternoon that she finally wrote back. By then, I had called twice more.
Hey! Sorry I didn’t get back to you. Really busy day here at the conference. He’s amazing. His name is Trent McCarthy and he’s from Atlanta. We really hit it off and I just need to roll with this. Can you give me a week? I’m going to go back to Atlanta with him. I’ll send you some pictures!
A week?! Cavorting with Trent from Atlanta? My mind was trying to process all of this new information. Sure, I could take care of Fred, although she had never been gone this long from him. He might get lonely, I thought, and mentally planned to structure my days so I could pop over at lunch too. The bigger question was my dear friend who had found a new guy at a conference and was jetting back home with him!!! I wrote back:
Well, aren’t you just the Queen of the Nile?! Of course I’ll take care of Fred. Have an amazing time and call me when Trent is out of earshot. I want to talk to you! Every. Single. Damn. Detail.