CHARLIE REALLY didn’t know how Gay talked him into things.
A craft show?
One called “Bells, Bows, and Beyond”? It would be bleak! He would want something way too expensive and wouldn’t be able to afford it.
As a booking agent, she made good—damned good—money. And her husband, who repaired huge mail-inserting machines, made more than a comfortable living as well. She could afford pretty much whatever she wanted.
But Charlie? While he certainly made more than peanuts, Gerald (who was fifteen years his junior) had brought in more than half the income of the household. Now it was all Charlie could do to pay the property taxes on the house his aunt had left him. And the utilities. She’d left him the house, but all her other beloved relatives, kids, nephews and nieces, and even friends had gotten most of the furniture, appliances, collectables, and knickknacks. In the end he’d inherited a nearly empty house.
It wasn’t long after that that he met Gerald at a party, and to his surprise, he soon realized they were dating. Somehow the whole dating thing had always eluded him, mostly because the kind of men he was most attracted to didn’t ever seem to be interested in him. So he found himself truly dating for the first time at thirty-eight. And the fact that Gerald was so much younger than him had gotten Charlie more than his fair share of raised eyebrows. But then, most of his friends were younger than he was. Men his age acted so… old. Acted as if being in their late forties or early fifties made them Methuselah or something. Why act old when these days fifty was the new thirty? Wasn’t that something else the magazines in doctor’s offices claimed?
Six months later, even before Gerald moved in, the two of them had, piece by piece, begun to refill the house with furniture, mostly secondhand, mostly at garage sales.
Including the table he’d fought to keep.
The table that right now had a conglomeration of both autumn and Christmas dishes, and of utmost note, a gorgeous ceramic bowl. A bowl that she had bought just that morning from a friend of hers at a holiday sale down on Grand Avenue, not far from his house.
“It’s why I was late. I thought I could get in and out of there fast. An hour at the most. But I lost track of time.”
She did that a lot. It made him wonder how she was so exactly spot-on perfect with her schedule at work. Maybe the sheer importance of being exactly on time, all the time, meant she had to relax and let things go the rest of the time?
“But I really would like you to see his things. And he’s such a cutie. Just your type.”
As if he were looking for someone!
“Early thirties, pug nose, the most beautiful eyes!”
Early thirties? Hell no! If he ever allowed himself to be with someone, he vowed it wouldn’t be a younger man again. No way!
First, Gay had suggested that he should go and check things out himself, then offered to take him, and finally insisted they go together. “Right now!”
“But our movie,” he countered.
“We’ll go to the next showing.” she replied and put on her coat. “It’s not like there’s only one showing!”
Apparently, it was a fait accompli. So many things were with Gay.
Five minutes later they were halfway there.
“I can’t wait for you to see his wares,” she said, gesturing with such excitement he worried about her keeping her hands on the wheel of her classic 1955 red Thunderbird convertible. The hardtop was on today of course. It was well into November and pretty chilly after all.
Charlie nodded. He was nervous suddenly, and he had no idea why. It wasn’t her driving. She was a good driver. Maybe it was the price sticker on the bowl that Gay had forgotten to remove? He made sure she didn’t see it. But God, thirty-five dollars? That was almost the price of the whole dish set it was meant to go with.
“Yes, I know what you’re thinking. His pieces aren’t a dollar a piece. But he’s an artist, baby. His things aren’t the ceramic version of Bob Ross’s paintings. He can’t whip them out like that. He takes his time. His pieces are beautiful.”
They were. The bowl really was beautiful. He was in love with it. And it wasn’t like Gay didn’t pay him well enough. She did. And thank God he didn’t have a mortgage. But even so, it was hard to live in this world with only one income. How did people make it?
Yes. Thank goodness he didn’t have a mortgage. Maybe a roommate was the thing to do? The house did feel so empty. It would be nice to have someone around.
“He teaches in his basement in the house he rents. A little place barely on the right side of the tracks.”
Of course, most of the people he knew, people he would want living under his roof, were partnered, with their own places.
“You’d be amazed at how affordable his classes are. I don’t know how he pays his rent!”
So he was just going to have to control himself! Put a limit on how much he spent. A salt-and-pepper-shaker set. Gay said he had one, right? They couldn’t be more than the bowl, could they?
Twenty-five dollars, maybe? He could do that. He wasn’t exactly poor after all.
Think how nice they would look on the table. What people would say. He grinned. Simply thinking about it made him think he really could do it. He could have his Christmas dinner. He was sure Harry and Cody would come. Neither of them were going to see family after all. Cody because his mother and sister were horrible people, and Harry didn’t have any family left.
“And here we are!” Gay announced. “I am about to show you beauty and wonder. Let’s go.”
And stomach in knots, Charlie got out of the car.