I TRIED not to let my surprise show when Travis appeared on my doorstep for the second time in two days. He looked good in a crisp salmon-pink cashmere sweater and dark blue jeans that hugged his ass. “Hey,” I said. “Whose song is too hard now?”
He grimaced. “I just wanted to stop by and apologize for yesterday. I never should have let Malik talk me into asking you to do that. I mean, I shouldn’t have done it.”
“All right,” I said.
Travis took a step back. “That’s all I came to say. Thanks for listening.”
I pushed the door all the way open. “Do you want to come in? I just finished making dinner. There’s plenty if you’d like to join me.”
He halted midturn. “I’d love to. You cook?”
“I do everything.”
Travis followed me down the foyer into the kitchen and dining room. The kitchen side was all modern, marble counters and stainless steel appliances, while the dining side skewed rustic—fancily beat-up wood furniture and on the walls, framed prints of line drawings of cacti and tumbleweed. Brick-colored floor tiles throughout helped the two styles merge. There was already one place setting out on the eight-seat table. I gestured Travis into another chair and pulled out a second place setting from a standing cabinet to put in front of him.
“Thanks. I really wasn’t expecting full service—”
“You dressed up for me.” I smiled even though I stood behind him. I figured he’d hear it in my voice.
Travis twisted in the solid chair and grinned. “Conceited much? I looked nice yesterday too.”
I grinned back and smoothed down the buttons on my shirt. “If I’d known you were coming, I would have done the ironing.”
“You do your own ironing?”
“If I’d known you were coming, I’d have had my cleaning lady do the ironing.” I dropped a pot holder on the table and returned to the stove to get the pot of green vegetables simmering on it. I moved to the sink to drain it. Finally I set it on top of the pot holder. Next I produced a pan of roasted chicken from the oven.
“You made all this for yourself?” Travis asked.
“I tend to cook a lot at once and make it last. I came from a big family, and I’ve always been surrounded by a lot of people. And as you’ve demonstrated, you never know when someone will stop by.” I took the seat across from him.
“Big family, huh? I’ve got two sisters. You?”
“Nine,” I said.
Travis choked on nothing. “Nine?”
“Yep.”
“Name them.”
“What?” I laughed with incredulity.
“You heard me.” Travis raised his fork like a challenge. “Go on. Let’s see how fast you can do it.”
“Keira, Kevin, Kathy, Kelly, Kyra, Kaitlyn, Kerry, Keefe, and Lorcan.”
“Lorcan?” He howled. “Did Ireland run out of Ks?”
“Mam always said sticking to one letter saved time. She and Da were too busy taking care of us to be fishing through the whole alphabet trying to name us. Lorcan’s a few years younger. I think they had a little more time to think about it.”
“Where do you fall in?”
“Between Kaitlyn and Kerry.”
Travis took a bite of roasted chicken. “This is delicious.”
“Thanks.” I tried to sound humble.
“So was it a big deal when you left home? Jordana told me you joined Icon when you were fourteen?”
“We never really talked about it. One less person to trip over, I guess. What about you? Are you close with your siblings?”
“I used to be.”
“Not anymore?” I asked.
Travis shrugged. “Not since I came out. Everyone had a difficult time with it. I thought my sisters would come around, but so far they haven’t. We still talk, but that’s the elephant in the room. Nobody ever asks if I’m seeing anyone.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I can’t imagine you had it easy either,” he said.
“First thing my dad said when I told him was ‘Have a beer, son.’ Second thing: ‘You don’t have to be afraid. We love you.’ Still gets me a little teary.”
“I would have been on the floor weeping,” Travis said.
I laughed. “Yeah, pretty much. And then when I came out to the world, I had the guys behind me. It was hard, but I managed.”
“That must have been scary.”
“I was terrified.”
“Are you still in touch with them?”
“They’re my best friends. I wish they lived closer, but we’re all spread out now.” I rattled out the lie like I was on the Big Breakfast couch. “So what do you do?”
“I’m a YA librarian,” Travis said.
“A what?”
“Sorry. Young adult.”
“So you help teens figure out what to read?”
“Yeah, but there’s a lot more to it than that. The library where I work has a teen center. It’s a designated safe-space hangout for after school. Most of the kids look at me like I’m insane when I suggest anything reading-related to them. I’m in charge of a lot of programs. We try to keep them busy and give them things to do that will expand their minds and help them grow into good individuals.”
“Wow.”
“We actually have a recording studio. I’d love for you to come by and visit, if you’re interested. I could introduce you to some of our teens. I mean, I know you’re busy. I don’t want to put any stress on you.”
“No, actually I’d love to. It sounds like you have a really interesting job.”
“I have the best job,” Travis said. “And, well, I hope you don’t mind my saying this, but working with teens, I get pretty good at telling when they’re not being totally forthcoming.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. When I asked you whether you were still in touch with your friends in Icon earlier, I got the impression you didn’t want to talk about it.”
I looked away.
“Hey, it’s all right. I’m not going to push you. I just want you to know I intuited something was off.”
“I wish Russell lived closer. I miss him.”
“And the other one? Sorry, I don’t remember his name.”
“Paeder. It’s… he’s… complicated.”
“I’m not pushing. Do you want to ask something about me?”
“How did you and Malik and Jordana meet?”
“Malik and I were college roommates. First time I met him, he was in his underwear, painting his chest the school colors, getting ready to go to a basketball game.”
“Love at first sight?” I asked.
“Oh no, I thought he was a brain-dead jock. But since he was living with me, I had to give him a chance, and he proved me wrong.”
“You thought you could push me over yesterday,” I said.
“I guess I should have learned not to prejudge people, huh?”
I grinned and saluted him with my water glass. “Some lessons take time to sink in.”
Gesturing with his fork, Travis said, “This is really, really good chicken.”
I laughed.
“Keelin, yesterday I met a guy who made me respect him. And I’d like to get to know him better.”
“Hmm.” I scrunched my nose. “Do you have his number? Maybe we could have him over?”
“I don’t have his personal number, but I’m hoping he’ll give it to me.”
I laughed. “I’d say there’s a fair chance.”
It seemed we’d crossed a boundary. Funny how honesty and openness could do that.
After dinner, I asked if he wanted to take a glass of wine into the den to watch a movie.
“Netflix and chill? I don’t think that’s a good idea yet.”
I smirked. “I know I’m incredibly sexy, but I’m confident you can resist jumping on me.”
“How can you be so sure?” Travis grinned.
“I’ve got a secret weapon that guarantees instant erectile dysfunction.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?”
I pointed at the kitchen’s entryway. “Hold on.”
Suddenly a clatter came from the foyer. “Put your pants on, boss. I’m home!” Angie yelled.
“Oh,” Travis said.
“Told you,” I said. “We’re in here, Ange.”
“We? Boss, have you got a man—” Angie froze as she walked into the kitchen and laid eyes on Travis. Then she grinned. “Well, hello, Travis.” She gave it a wolf whistle inflection.
“Hey, Angie,” Travis managed weakly. “I didn’t know you lived here.”
“Angie’s staying for a few days,” I provided, while Angie started picking at the leftovers on the stove. “So, movie?” I asked Travis.
“Ooh, what are you guys watching?” Angie asked.
“Nothing you’re interested in,” I said firmly.
“God, exiled in this house too.” She flounced with a chicken wing in one hand and stomped out, dragging her bag with her.
“Don’t ask,” I said to Travis.
“Wasn’t going to. But on the subject of wine, it’s a beautiful night, and unless I’m mistaken, that’s a garden I see out the window there. Interested in a drink outside?”
“Help me put the dishes in the washer and I’ll make all your dreams come true.” Travis gave me an impish look, so I amended: “This one specific dream come true.”
“That’s good enough for me.” He stood up and handed me plates across the kitchen island. I put them in the washer.
“You’re supposed to rinse them first,” he said.
“Oh.” I stared at the plate with bits of food clinging to it in my hand.
“You don’t usually do this, do you?” He fake gasped. “Oh my God, are you trying to impress me?”
“No.”
Travis’s voice rose as he tried not to laugh. “I’m not mocking you. I swear. I’m charmed. Tell me honestly. Did you even cook the meal, or should I be searching your trash for take-out containers?”
“Yes, I cooked the meal,” I grumped. “And I know how to put dishes in the dishwasher. I just forgot.”
“You forgot?”
“You’re very distracting.”
“I am about five seconds away from suggesting we skip the drinks and go up to your room.”
I took a deep breath. “I don’t think that’s a good—” I heard the unsteadiness in my voice and hoped that if Travis picked up on it, he didn’t think it came from a lack of desire.
“Hey, never mind, sorry. Drinks outside. Let’s do it.” He didn’t wait for an answer before he grabbed our wineglasses in one hand and the open bottle in the other and headed for the door. I waited a bit before following. I needed a little space to get my head right. All through dinner, he’d looked at me more than at his food. We’d made each other laugh, and even though we’d avoided innuendo, me on purpose, I wasn’t sure if it was the same for him. The things he did with his tongue as he ate had me aching down below. Thankfully, my erection had subsided by the time I got up, so I didn’t embarrass myself.
When I joined Travis, we stood on the deck together feeling the breeze. Travis didn’t move when I stepped beside him and took the glasses out of his hand. But then I slid my hand into his and leaned my head on his arm, touching just below his shoulder. “When I came out, it wasn’t wholly by choice. I hooked up with a guy, and the next day I had a call from a tabloid saying they were going to run the story because the guy had proof. They said if I told my side of it, they’d give me a fair shake. Anyway, even though no one can out me anymore, I’m still cautious when I meet new people.”
Travis didn’t say anything, but he squeezed my hand. Because of the angle I leaned against him, I couldn’t see his face as I spoke, but I felt his breath on my hair, hot and damp and full of promise.
“Well, since we’re confessing stuff… I’m a hopeless romantic,” he said. “When I finally realized I was gay, my first thought was to plan my wedding. I got hurt a lot before I realized that guys who want me because of what they see aren’t the ones who’ll stick around.”
“You never met anybody who stuck?” I asked.
“I’ve had one serious boyfriend in the last six years. But mostly I’ve been alone. It drives Jordana crazy. Ever since she and Malik got together, she’s played matchmaker. And since gay marriage became legal in New York, she’s gotten worse.”
“I wouldn’t mind having a friend like that,” I said. “I’m good at long-term. Great at it, in fact. But my history with it hasn’t gone how I’d have liked. It’s been… a lot of letdowns and frustration. Mainly courtesy of one guy.”
“Is he still… in your life?”
“It’s complicated.”
“So if he came back and—”
“I don’t want to talk about this right now.” Not here, under the moon and the telephone wires crossing over the top of my yard and the big tree in the middle. It had been around since the Dutch settlers, and the houses were built up around it. But this was the part where we got it all out and decided if we’d move forward. “It’s complicated, and I can’t talk about it.” I pulled away from his side, but Travis kept holding my hand. Our arms stretched between us. “Can I ask you something?”
He clutched the wine bottle. “Sure.”
“What if I want to see you again?”
Travis put the bottle down on a patio table. “What if I want to see you again?”
I grinned. “Then we’re golden.”
He smiled at me for a moment. Then, slowly, he stepped toward me. I stepped toward him. Our chests touched. I reached up to put my arms around his neck. The first brush of his lips to mine was a little off as we measured out the height differential, and I had a brief moment of panic that my lips were too dry, but I got over it when Travis sucked my bottom lip against his teeth. Once he released me, I wrapped my arms around his back and gave a downward tug. Instead of leaning down, he put his hands under my ass and lifted me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist. Rubbing my cheek against his shoulder, I murmured, “Do you know how sexy this sweater feels?”
“I’ll keep it in mind,” Travis said, bending down to nibble my ear. He braced our weight against the table. I slid one hand down his back, slow so he’d have no question where I was headed. When I grabbed his ass, he huffed, gripped my collar behind my neck, and stuck his tongue inside my willing, waiting, and ready mouth.
“Yaaaaasssss!” The light in one of the second-story windows went on, and Angie stuck her head out. “Get it, boss!”
“She is so fired,” I muttered. Travis started laughing. “What?”
“Nothing. Just thinking I need to tell the salesman at the menswear shop that my purchase was a blazing success.”
I put my feet back on the ground. “How about I give you that number now?”
AFTER TRAVIS left, which was very soon after Angie’s appearance, I went upstairs to find her. She was on the couch with Melvin curled up on her lap. “Tell me why I don’t fire you?” I asked.
Instead of answering, she shuffled around, knocking Melvin off, and reached into her pocket for her wallet.
“I know how much you make, and I don’t think you can pay me off.”
“Hold on.” She riffled through the wallet and eventually pulled out a multifolded scrap of paper, which she handed to me.
“What is this?”
“The reason you’re not going to fire me.”
I watched her as I unfolded it. She turned her attention back to the television. It was a half sheet, torn in two in haste. I barely recognized my own handwriting. It read:
You’re the only thing I have standing between me and heartbreak. Please add to your list of responsibilities: Don’t let the boss do anything he’ll regret.
I refolded it and handed it back. “I don’t remember giving you this.”
“Yeah, you were drunk. I thought the third person was a nice touch.”
“So, uh, when did I write this?”
“After you did something you regretted. Or someone, I guess.”
“Oh.” I sat down on the arm of the couch while she put the note away. “You never said…. That was really forward of me to ask you that.”
She shrugged. “I got a raise out of you that night too, so I figured it was a fair trade-off, and this is the first time I’ve had to do anything, so….”
“Do you think I made a mistake tonight?” I looked toward the window where she’d yelled down at us.
“I don’t know. You always talk about getting to know a guy before you hop in bed with him. What I saw did not look like talking.”
“We talked at dinner,” I said in lame protest. I knew she was right. Now that Travis was gone and I was able to turn my brain away from the things I wanted to do to his body, I couldn’t be angry at her.
“So, what, you decided it was enough? A little lip service to segue to some actual lip service? This is why you gave me this responsibility, boss. I hate to say it, but you’re an idiot in love.”
“Coming from an asexual, aromantic lesbian, that hurts,” I said.
“It’s understandable that you’re horny. I mean, generally understandable, not ‘I can relate’ understandable. It’s been ten months since you had sex with another person.”
“Do I want to know how you know that?”
“I know that because that’s when my cousin came to visit and you ‘showed him around town.’”
“Okay, you’re saying that like it’s a euphemism, but I really did do that.”
“And then you boned him.”
I didn’t have any defense to give. Her cousin had been hot and giving out vibes all night. Like Travis. I groaned. “I can’t believe he told you.”
“I know you hate me bringing this up, since you’re sooo not having a midlife crisis, but have you considered evaluating your life choices lately? You know, as you get closer to four-oh?”
“Forty is the new twenty,” I said lamely. I was already finding hair where it didn’t belong. My nose. My ears! I was going to turn into my grandpa, known colloquially as the Troll of Cairn.
“And twenty is the new five, so let this toddler tell you—fucking someone twenty years younger doesn’t make you a spring chicken.”
“For the record, your cousin never called me back.”
“Of course he didn’t. He had a girlfriend, and he’s a jerk. If you’d asked me, I could have told you that.”
“Oh shit,” I sighed. “Is he why I wrote the note?”
She pulled Melvin away from nosing my fingers. “Night, boss.”
“Good night. And thanks. I guess.”
“Anytime.”
I trudged to my bedroom. Obviously I had a lot to think about. Relationships, turning forty, traumatizing Angie by fucking her cousin… I remembered him, a twenty-two-year-old with punk stylings and a mouth locked on cynicism.
Melvin followed me down the hall and jumped up on the bed after I opened the door. He kneaded the blanket before plopping down in the exact center. I took my clothes off and went into the en suite bathroom. When I came out again, he was fast asleep, stretched out on his side, horizontal across the bed. I wedged myself into the sliver of space he’d left for me.
When I was twenty-two, I never dreamed I’d be alone at forty.
“You’re not there yet,” I told myself. I had a few more months of thirty-nine. But there was the rub. How was I supposed to balance what I’d learned, which was slow and steady builds a relationship, against what I yearned for, someone to love me for me, right now and forever? I stroked Melvin. “At least I’ve got you, Melvin.”
He opened one eye and glared. I’d woken him. I smiled back.