Pumpkin Spice and Everything Nice

by Hayden Hunt

  “Right. And it’s Aidan?”

  “Yep! Come on in! Nobody’s here yet, but I’m sure they’ll start popping up shortly. But make yourself at home.”

  “Cool, thanks.”

  I wasn’t completely sure what to make of this guy at this point. He was a cute guy. Blonde, which I wasn’t usually into, but he pulled it off well. Not that I was looking at him as a potential partner. Obviously not; the guy came into my shop today with his fiancée, for crying out loud. But I still couldn’t help noticing he was good looking.

  He was quiet, though. He had been quiet at the shop, even while talking to his fiancée. He had one of those monotone voices where you weren’t sure what he was really thinking. Which was probably why I thought he had no interest in coming over earlier. He was hard to read.

  But he gave me no reason to think he wasn’t a nice guy. And I really did like making new friends; it was nice to have a new face over. And my friends were always really welcoming, so I was sure it’d work out fine.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” I asked him as he sat down on my couch.

  “Anything alcoholic,” he answered quickly.

  “Beer it is,” I said as I went to grab two beers from the fridge. I popped off the bottle caps then walked back into the living room and handed it to him.

  “This is a really nice house you have,” he said as he grabbed the beer.

  See, he was nice! If not a little shy and awkward.

  “Thanks! It’s not much, but it’s been a good starter home.”

  “Hey, beats my apartment,” he answered. “I’ll be thrilled to be in a house of my own. It doesn’t have to be fancy. Just has to have some space.”

  “Oh yeah? Is that your next move after the wedding?” I asked. The fact that he was getting married was the only thing I knew about him so I kind of had to use it to propel the conversation forward.

  “Hopefully. Probably not for many years after that. A lot of money is going into this damn wedding, you know how that goes.”

  “Yeah, weddings are brutal. I mean, except for me, because wedding cakes are actually a cash cow.” I smiled jokingly.

  “Yeah, you pariah,” he teased as he almost chugged his beer.

  He was considerably less awkward now. I heard him talk more in the first couple minutes of being here than I had heard him talk the entire time he was at the bakery. Which was pretty weird, considering I was a stranger and he was with his fiancée earlier. You’d think he’d be more closed off with me. But he probably was just really bored of the whole thing.

  “Not too stoked on the wedding though, huh?”

  “Not at all,” he answered seriously. “And my lady is kind of freaking out about it. She wants me to go to every little thing that requires wedding planning but honestly, man, it’s boring as hell. And a little infuriating.”

  “Infuriating?” I asked. “Infuriating in what way?”

  “In the way that we’re spending all this money on a party for one day when we could be spending it on our future. That house, for example. It seems so pointless.”

  “But your fiancée disagrees?” I asked.

  “I mean, I think so. I never really told her that I think this wedding is pointless to me. She seems into it, so.”

  This struck me as weird. I mean, he was marrying the girl. Shouldn’t he have been communicating this with her?

  “How long have you two been together?” I asked, thinking maybe they rushed into the marriage and had a short enough relationship that they hadn’t mastered the communication thing.

  “Ten years or so. We started dating in high school.”

  Well, there goes that theory.

  I noticed his beer was now empty. “Do you want another one of those?” I asked.

  “Yeah, sure,” he said. I took the empty bottle from him and went in the kitchen. When I came back, I dove right back into the conversation.

  “That’s a hell of a long time. High school sweethearts, that’s pretty cute.”

  “Yeah, it’s been a while,” he answered, not sounding too excited about that. But I didn’t want to pry into his life, I barely knew the guy.

  He immediately started sipping on his new beer. I wasn’t sure what to say after that, but I was saved by the sound of my cell phone ringing.

  I grabbed it, and the caller ID read “Mario.”

  “Hey, sorry, I gotta pick this up,” I told him. “It’s one of the friends who is supposed to come over tonight.”

  “Not a problem.” He nodded, still going hard on the beer.

  “Hello?” I answered.

  “Hey man, what are you up to?” he asked. “Do you want to come over to Jamie’s? We’re eating some pizza, then going to the bars.”

  “What?” I asked, confused. “What are you talking about?”

  “Uh… We’re talking about going out drinking. What’s wrong?”

  “Well, you’re supposed to be at my house tonight,” I told him.

  “What? For what?”

  “For game night!” I said, beginning to get a little frustrated.

  “Huh? No, man, you said that was next Wednesday. We were just talking about it.”

  “What? No I didn’t, I said tonight.”

  “Naw, dude, you said the sixteenth. Check your texts.”

  “Shit…” I muttered, putting a hand on my head. This made Miles look at me strangely.

  “No harm done though, right?” Mario asked. “You can just come over to Jamie’s tonight and we’ll do game night next week.”

  I flashed Miles one finger before getting up and walking out of the room, trying to let him know that I needed just a minute on the phone.

  “No, I can’t. I invited this guy I met at my shop over for game night. He’s already here.”

  “Oh, a new man in your life, already?” Mario teased.

  “No,” I said. “It’s not like that at all. He came in with his fiancée. He’s totally straight. I was just trying to be friendly earlier because he seemed like kind of a lonely guy.”

  “Shit, man, that sucks. Good luck getting out of that one.”

  “Yeah, thanks for all your help,” I said sarcastically.

  “We’re still coming next week though, so, you know, buy more beer.” He laughed.

  “Will do. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “See ya.”

  Shit, now I had to go out and explain to this near stranger why it would only be the two of us here tonight. That wasn’t going to be awkward at all.

  I walked back into the living room. Miles’ second beer was gone and he had grabbed himself another out of the fridge.

  “I, uh, hope you don’t mind,” he said, holding the beer above his head.

  “Not at all,” I said. Though it was a little concerning that he was on his third beer, considering he may be deciding to go home now.

  “So, uh, funny story. I guess I told my friends the wrong date. They thought game night was next Wednesday, so they’re not coming. It’s going to be just us. Sorry about that. I totally understand if you just want to go home.”

  He thought about this for a moment. “Well, would you still be down to chill?” he asked. “If not, it’s no big deal, but—”

  “But what?” I asked.

  “But me and my girl got into a pretty big fight before I left. I’m not really looking forward to going back there right now.”

  Well, that explained his eagerness to drink.

  “So, you want to hang out, just the two of us?” I asked.

  “I mean, I’m down. If you don’t mind.”

  “No, I don’t, that sounds fine.” I smiled. “I’m gonna get myself another beer.”

  I didn’t really mind, either. It might be a little awkward at first but I was sure that would dissipate pretty quickly. I could hang out with basically anyone. Especially with a few beers in me.

  And I could see Miles was already a little tipsy, so I was sure we’d both loosen up. Honestly, it beat going out to the bars with my fr
iends. I just didn’t like that kind of atmosphere. I wasn’t one for crowds and music so loud you couldn’t talk to the person next to you.

  I sat on the recliner with my beer. “Want to play some games?”

  “Sounds good.” He nodded.

  This seemed like an easy way to break some of the tension. We could both get drunker in peace as we played some games.

  I popped in a random first person shooter and we got into things. It was nice. We were mostly quiet, of course with the random laugh or jeer every now and then. We played like this for about an hour or two. I kind of lost track of time.

  But we were both grabbing beers in between games and I was definitely drunk by the time we finished. My hands always got a little sweaty when I was too buzzed, and I could definitely feel them now. It made it kind of difficult to keep playing, so I suggested we take a break.

  Mere seconds after I did, Miles’ phone began to ring. He looked at it, rolled his eyes, and silenced it.

  “Man, it’s Chelsea.” He groaned.

  “Not going to answer it?” I asked.

  “Naw. I really don’t see the point. We’re not going to work anything out over the phone.”

  “Do you want to go home and talk to her? I won’t be offended if you’ve gotta go, I know how important working this stuff out is. I can call you a cab.”

  He shook his head. “Honestly, it doesn’t feel that important right now. I don’t see the point in rushing it. Plus, doesn’t feel like there’s a lot I can do to actually work it out.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. She’s hurt about something that isn’t fixable right now. Like, there’s nothing I can do or say to make it just go away. I’m not sure what she expects me to do.”

  “You wanna talk about it?” I asked.

  Normally, I wouldn’t, because this seemed personal and we weren’t close. But he really seemed like he wanted to get into things. It was probably the alcohol. It took away all inhibitions that made you want to keep things private.

  “When we got home, she kind of freaked out. Said I wasn’t interested in this wedding, I wasn’t interested in her, how she deserved to be with someone who really loved her, basically.”

  “Damn. That sounds like a big fight… But you told her you loved her, right?”

  “Yeah, I did. And I do. She’s my best friend. Well, honestly, she’s my old friend at this point. We’ve lived together for years, been together ten years. I care a lot about her.”

  “Well, then, maybe you just need to get more into the wedding stuff for her? If that’s what will make her feel more loved, I mean.”

  “But I don’t give a fuck about it!” he said in exasperation. “It’s stupid, it’s pointless, it doesn’t interest me. I wish I could make myself care about it but every time I do anything for it, I get angry. And I’ve been trying so hard to hide how much I hate this all for her.”

  “Why? Why try and hide it? Why not just tell her how you feel?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t want to hurt her, I guess. I think hearing how I really feel would bother her. I guess I’ve gotten into the habit of lying to her like that, to save her feelings. Seems like I’m doing it all the time lately. I even had to lie to her again tonight.”

  “You did?” I asked curiously. “About what?”

  “Well, when she was going on about how I don’t care about the wedding she asked me why I even proposed. And the truth is, I only proposed because I felt obligated to do it. We’d been together so long, her family and friends were pushing me toward it, it was the right thing to do. But I know that’s not romantic. I knew it would hurt her.”

  I could feel my eyes starting to bulge a bit. “Is that really the only reason you proposed to her?” I asked.

  “Well, yeah, is that bad?” he asked.

  I gave an awkward laugh. “Well, I think usually people propose because, you know, they want to get married. I gotta be honest, doesn’t sound like you want to be married at all.”

  He was drunk and honest. “I don’t. Every single day, I dread getting closer to this wedding.”

  “That’s no way to live your life, man! If you’re not happy, if you don’t want to marry her, then you shouldn’t. Seriously, you could just not marry her.”

  “But I’d be an asshole if I did that. I was with her for a decade. What a dick I’d be if I didn’t marry her after ten years.”

  “I have to be blunt. Do you really think she’d rather be with a man who doesn’t really want to be with her? There’s more to life than that, there is more to love than that.”

  “But is there?” he asked, a hint of sadness in his voice. “Isn’t this how relationships are after such a long time? Boring, routine, but comfortable? Will she really be able to go out and find someone who, after ten years, is still passionately in love with her? Have you ever felt that for a woman after all that time?”

  I laughed a little, because obviously I hadn’t found that with a woman.

  “What’s funny?” he asked. It was in this moment my drunk ass realized how inappropriate it was to laugh right now.

  “I’m so sorry, I’m not laughing at you, I’m really not. It’s just… I haven’t found that with a woman but I’m gay.”

  “Oh,” he said suddenly. “Well, have you found that in a man, then?”

  I thought on this. “Okay, if I’m being honest, no, I haven’t. But I haven’t been with any guy very long. I haven’t had a very serious relationship, since it’s hard to date around here. But I do truly believe that it’s possible. In fact, I’ve broken up with every guy I’ve dated specifically because I didn’t feel very passionate about them. I really want that. It’s out there.”

  He sighed. “I don’t know. All I’ve ever heard is that relationships get comfortable after a long time.”

  “Well, sure they do. But comfort doesn’t mean the absence of passion. I think even with comfort, you still feel deep love for that other person. Have you ever felt that passionate about Chelsea?”

  He paused. “No, not really. I was pretty hesitant to date her back in high school. I don’t know, I didn’t have a lot of experience with girls and I wasn’t very interested in it at that time. I sorta got pushed into dating her. And then I just got comfortable with her.”

  “Well, maybe that’s your problem. Maybe it’s because you were never passionate with Chelsea and that’s why you can’t feel that much for her now. I mean, you’ve only been with one woman in your entire life. How do you know there isn’t somebody better out there for you?”

  “Shit,” he mumbled. “I never even thought about that.”

  “Look, obviously I don’t know you very well, and I’m not trying to butt into your relationship at all. You know your life better than me so you should do whatever you think is right.”

  “That’s the problem, though. I probably don’t know my life better than you! I don’t think I know my life very well at all these days. I don’t think about it much. I actually spend every moment I can avoiding thinking about it.”

  “You don’t sound happy. And I don’t think that’s any way to live your life. Like, you say you’re comfortable with Chelsea, right?”

  “Right,” he acknowledged.

  “But today in the shop, I noticed you don’t even really talk with her much. And obviously you can’t communicate with her about things you don’t like, like your wedding.”

  He looked at me skeptically. “So what is that you’re trying to say?”

  “I’m saying, what kind of comfort is that? When you can’t talk to her and you can’t communicate with her? Is that level of comfort really worth staying unhappy for?”

  He laughed in realization. “You’re right. I don’t know why I always say I’m comfortable. Clearly, I’m not. I’ve talked more honestly with you in the last few hours than I have with her in the last few years.”

  “So what’s really keeping you in this relationship?”

  I felt guilty asking, like
I was destroying a relationship that I knew nothing about. But I was drunk and I was speaking my mind. The way this guy was describing his life to me made it sound so incredibly bad. It really seemed he’d be better off alone.

  “I don’t know. I really hadn't thought about it. I’ve just been going through the motions because I felt like I should. Like I should be married at my age. Like I’ve been with this girl so long, I should just stay with her.”

  “But you don’t know what’s out there. Happiness could be out there, man! There could be someone you actually are comfortable talking to, about anything. Someone you could spill your life to and feel good about it. You could be with someone who you’re excited to see after work every day. This could be your life.”

  “You’re right!” he agreed suddenly, standing up off the couch, then promptly stumbling a bit. “I can’t do this with her anymore! I’ve got to go. I’ve got to tell her.”

  “Woah there, cowboy!” I said nervously. “Maybe this isn't a decision you should be making totally wasted.”

  I was a little anxious at the thought that I had drunkenly convinced this near stranger to break up with his fiancée. Neither of us were thinking very clearly. I didn’t want him to wake up tomorrow hungover, his engagement in shambles, with me to blame.

  “But things have never been more clear!” he said happily. “I’ve never felt like I had things figured out with my life, but now I do!”

  “Yeah, but, you never know when it’s just the alcohol talking. Better safe than sorry. I’m sure if this is really the right choice for you, you’ll feel equally as clear about it in the morning.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he said, sitting back down.

  “Besides, I don’t really think you should be driving tonight.”

  His eyes widened. “Oh, shit, you’re right! How am I going to get home tonight? Fuck, I’m going to have to leave my car here and then come back in the morning before work. What a pain in the ass.”

  “Do you want to sleep here?” I offered.

  “Seriously?” he asked. “That isn’t awkward?”

  “Nah, I have friends sleep over all the time when they’re too drunk. I actually have a guest bedroom so it’s not a problem at all.”