by J. D. Walker
“I’m sorry.” Okay, that, I didn’t expect.
“Sorry for what?” I let my hands fall to the side.
“I’m sorry for being a condescending prick.” That’s a first.
I couldn’t help needling him, just a little. “It’s part of your charm.”
“Cut me some slack, would you? Last night, as I was lying in bed with Brandon, it occurred to me that I shouldn’t have said all that shit to you yesterday. It’s no business of mine how you lead your life, and I should just butt out.” Of course, he had to mention Brandon. I let him sweat a little and said nothing.
“Will you accept my apology?” he pushed, after ten seconds of silence.
“That all you got?”
“What more do you want?”
“Maybe a little bit more honesty, like you mean it.”
“Of course I mean it.”
“Whatever. We done?”
“Guess so.”
I went over to the trailer door and opened it. I heard Adrian say, “Why can’t you just—” but I slammed the door closed behind me, cutting off the rest of whatever he said. My life was in an upheaval, and he wasn’t helping.
As I drove home, I realized that I needed to talk to someone. Not Adrian, who, frankly, I could do without seeing for a few days. I didn’t have anyone close, because I deliberately kept things casual. The only family I had still living was my dad, and he was in prison. I wanted nothing to do with him, no matter how many letters he wrote begging for forgiveness for deserting me and my mom when I was five. I would never, ever forgive him.
I wondered if it was too soon to call Grant. Shit.
* * * *
“I can’t believe you called me,” Grant said, as we ate together at Red Lobster. It was after eight o’clock in the evening.
“Maybe there’s a blue moon outside,” I replied, as I enjoyed my blackened salmon.
“Must be. I’m still in shock, though.”
“You’ll get over it.”
“So why’d you call?” he asked as he worked his way through stuffed tilapia.
I wasn’t ready to talk about my issues—not yet. “I wanted to see a friendly face.”
“Hey,” he said, as he put his fork down. “I wanted to say again how sorry I am for going off on you this afternoon. I had no good excuse, not really.”
“We all have bad days, Grant. But if you want to talk about it, I’m all ears.” And I meant it.
He leaned back in his chair. “Really? You want to listen to workplace bullshit?”
“I’ve been in the workforce longer than you, so I’ve probably heard it all. Lay it on me,” I encouraged him after sipping my beer.
“Well, you asked for it. A Lowe’s is opening soon, two blocks from the store. Ownership is worried about business. I told them that Harry and Sons has loyal customers, and though they may lose a little bit at first, the luster of a big box store will fade. You can’t replace one-on-one service and a family atmosphere. I made some suggestions as to what they could do in the meantime, you know, special deals, things like that. But they blew me off. These guys are older—no offense—and stuck in their ways. It just pissed me off.” Grant finished his beer and waved down the waiter to get another one.
“No offense taken. That sucks, man.”
“I’ll be fine. It’s just frustrating dealing with people who can’t see the lumber for the trees.” He went back to his meal.
“Like me, you mean?” I joked, but not really.
“You?” Grant said, his mouth full. He swallowed. “No, you’re just stubborn.”
“Thanks, I guess.”
“You’re welcome.” He finished his food and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Okay, I know we’re not here to talk about my job issues. What’s going on, man?”
Where to begin?
“Do you think I’m a cliché?” I blurted out, almost afraid to hear the answer.
Grant almost choked on his beer. “Say what now?”
“Well, it’s just, some things have happened lately that call into question everything I am, how I do things. I guess I’m having a crisis of…self, or something.”
“That must be some crisis,” Grant said, a small smile on his face.
“You think this is funny?”
“Of course not. I’m just surprised.” Grant cleared his throat. “Trev, you’re the most confident man I know, which is part of your appeal, I suppose. It’s definitely one of the reasons why I had sex with you in the first place. Doesn’t hurt that you have a body that won’t quit, either.” He winked at me and took another sip of beer. “It’s just strange to hear words like that come out of your mouth, is all.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Might as well tell him everything. “A guy I fucked last night told me what people were saying about me at this bar I go to all the time. Or at least, I used to go there. Don’t think I’ll be going back. Anyway, this guy said they were laughing at me behind my back. I was pissed—and embarrassed—so I left and went to a club, and it was the same thing. It seems as if everyone out there, all of a sudden, thinks I’m some kind of dirty old man, searching for lost youth, or some shit. Fuck, I’m forty-two, not sixty. What’s wrong with me liking younger men?”
“I don’t think there’s anything necessarily wrong with it. But there must be an issue somewhere for you if those comments get to you like that. Why do you really think you go after younger guys? Is it because you’re searching for lost youth?”
“I’ve never really thought about it. I just, choose a certain kind of guy, I guess.”
“Well, you need to think about it, Trev. The answer to that question will help you move forward. If it’s younger men you want, be proud of it. If it’s not, then try something else. Hell, maybe get with a guy your own age to see what it’s like.”
The only guy like that I’d be interested in fucking was Adrian, and that was not happening.
“I guess you’re right.” I looked at Grant and smiled. “Who knew a guy as young as you could be so wise?”
He slapped my hand where it lay on the table. “Young is relative, asshole. I’m only ten years or so your junior.”
“But you wear it so well, sweetheart.”
“Shut it, you.” He blushed a little, and it charmed me.
I was curious. “What about you? Do you like older men?” Grant’s blush deepened to crimson. Why didn’t I notice before now how pretty he really is?
“You know the answer to that.” Yes, I did. But it wasn’t in the creepy ‘daddy’ kind of way.
“I guess I do.”
“Older men are just more…experienced, I guess. I find that confidence and maturity to be a real turn-on. That’s what works for me.”
“Huh. Good to know.” Grant seemed uncomfortable with the conversation, so I decided it was time to move on. I got the waiter to give me the bill and I paid it, leaving a healthy tip.
Outside the restaurant, I walked with Grant over to where our vehicles were parked.
“Thanks, man. It means a lot to me to have you as a friend. I appreciate you listening to the ramblings of a confused old man.”
“You’re not old, you’re seasoned. With a little pepper thrown in.”
“That right? Like what, cayenne?” I said, chuckling.
“Yup, hot and spicy.” I watched him unlock the door to his Ford truck.
“You doin’ anything fun this weekend?” I asked. For some reason, I didn’t want the evening to end. I was drawn to Grant, wanted to know more about him, what he liked.
“Well, I work on Saturdays, but Sundays I spend cleaning the apartment and watching reruns on MeTV.”
“Sounds kinda tame for a guy like you.” But then, what did I know?
“Not really. Get to know me better, and you’ll find out I like the mundane. Things like reruns on TV make me happy. I’m not dating anyone right now, and I always work late during the week, so I rarely go out, except for groceries and shit like that.” I didn’t know why, but the fact that he wasn’t
dating anyone was a relief.
Grant got into his truck and shut the door. Rolling down the window, he said, “I had a great time, Trev. Thanks for dinner. I hope I helped you, at least a little bit?”
“You did, man. Gave me a lot to think about. We’ll definitely do this again soon, if you’re willing.”
“My door’s always open. Anytime.” He gave me a searching look. I knew he was trying to tell me something, but I didn’t know what. When I didn’t respond, he focused on starting the engine. I stepped back and waved a little as I watched him leave the parking lot. He stuck his arm out to wave back before he turned right onto the busy street.
* * * *
Instead of going out for a fuck like I usually did on a Friday night, I stayed at home. I cleaned the house from end to end, did the laundry, and washed the few dishes that had been sitting in the sink for a week, mostly coffee cups. Yes, I was a bit of a slob.
Two loads of laundry later, the place was pristine. I sat on the couch in my living room and stared off into space, lost in thought. Did I date younger guys to bolster my ego? Was it some kind of leftover issue from being abandoned by my dad at a young age? Or was it what I truly desired?
I was no closer to an answer fifteen minutes later when my doorbell rang. Who the hell would be at my house at one o’clock on a Saturday morning? I went to the front door as I heard a fist pounding on the wood. Jesus.
I peered through the peep hole and opened the door in shock. It was Adrian, absolutely the last person I wanted to see right now.
“What the hell, dude? Do you know how late it is?”
He pushed past me without replying and headed for the kitchen. Resigned, I locked the door behind me and followed. I found Adrian sitting at the small kitchen table with a beer in his hand. I kept a case on hand in the refrigerator, always.
“Care to explain the displeasure of your presence?” I asked, as I sat across from him. Adrian didn’t respond until he twisted off the lid and drank the entire contents of the bottle. He placed it on the table with a thump and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“All these years, I’ve watched you fuck your way through the male population under age twenty-five. I thought you were a pathetic wannabe trying to make up for something missing in your life. But when I got on your ass yesterday, I knew I’d gone too far, and I felt bad. That’s why I apologized, or at least tried to. But you blew me off, you little fucker, and I went home, pissed. That’s not the worst of it, though.”
Great, there’s more? Guess going to bed is out of the question, for now.
With an internal sigh, I got up and retrieved two more bottles of beer and handed one to him. I opened mine.
“Give me the punch line,” I said after taking a sip.
“Brandon’s gone.”
I choked on the liquid. “Gone? As in, left you, gone?”
“You’re smarter than you look.”
I let that pass. “What happened? You guys seemed to be the perfect couple, at least, that’s what you always led me to believe.”
“I threw him out.”
Crap. “Why?”
“I hate to admit it, but you were right.”
No.
“Right about—?” But I knew what was coming.
“He was screwing around on me, the turd, with some twenty-three-year-old he met at his office.” Adrian gulped down half of his second beer. He was still sober, since it usually took three bottles before he started to get tipsy.
“You sure?”
“Fuck, yes, I’m sure. He told me all this when he got home tonight. Said he couldn’t keep it from me anymore because he felt ashamed. He said he truly loved me but couldn’t take being perfect anymore. That he was tired of living up to my high expectations, and this was the only way to get my attention.”
Man, that must have been a major blow for Adrian.
“I couldn’t believe it. The bastard cheated. On me. I thought we had something good together, and yeah, I rubbed it in your face, I know. But it was all a lie. At least you’ve always been honest about what you want. I may not like it, but you’ve never lied about it. I have to respect that, at least.”
“I’m sorry, was that another attempt at an apology?”
“Give me a break, would you? My life just fell apart.” He finished his beer and burped, despite the melodrama.
“Fine, I accept your apology.”
“Thanks. But what do I do now? The man I love cheated on me with another guy, someone way younger than me. That hurts.”
This would take tact and careful handling. “Adrian, don’t take this the wrong way, but, you’re a condescending, know-it-all son of a bitch, most days.” See? I was tactful, kinda.
“How are you helping by insulting me?”
“You insult me daily. I simply ignore you, friend.” I took another swig of my beer. “Just listen, for once in your life, would you?”
“Go ahead,” he said, sulking.
“Adrian, I’m not taking Brandon’s side, necessarily, but…You know, I have this friend—don’t look so shocked. I needed his advice on something, and maybe it applies to you, too. You’ve always been so adamant about the way you do things, that because it works for you, it must work for everyone else, too.
“I thought the way I did things was just fine until recently, and maybe…you need to reflect on your life, too. Not that Brandon is right about cheating on you, but has it occurred to you that living with someone as unbending as I know you can be…is hard to take? I may tease you about wanting to fuck your ass all the time, but I’d never do it. You ask too much from a guy. You’re not perfect, Adrian, and neither is Brandon. Hell, no one is.
“I know you’re raw right now, but maybe you need to take this opportunity to really talk to Brandon, not at him. Hear what he has to say. Cheating is a symptom of a deeper issue.” From the look Adrian gave me, I knew he was shocked to hear those words coming out my mouth. Shit, I was a little surprised, too.
“I’d never have thought to hear anything that deep coming from you. That must be some friend you got there.”
I smiled a little. “I wouldn’t trade his friendship for the world. As for you, you really need to go home and think about what you really want from Brandon—a partner in life, someone you treat equally and with respect, or a “yes” man. Because, from what you’ve just told me, the latter hasn’t been working for you, has it?”
Adrian huffed, not responding. I, however, needed some sleep. “You good to drive home, or do you need to sleep over?”
“Wow, you’re throwing me out? That’s cold, dude, even for you.”
“I’m not throwing you out, but you’d probably feel better sleeping in your own bed, as picky as you are. Plus, I really don’t want to wake up with you in the house. So, I guess, yes, I’m throwing you out.”
“Okay, okay.” Adrian stood and walked to the front door. I opened it and he stood on the stoop. “Thanks for listening to me gripe. I’ll think about what you said.”
“Great. Go home and don’t bother me ‘til Monday.”
“Asswipe.”
“Back at ‘cha,” I said, and slammed the door on his retreating backside.
I lay in bed fifteen minutes later, thinking about Adrian’s predicament. It was amazing how much we’d both fucked up our lives. Neither of us had gotten it right, after all. I guessed all that was left was to take it one day at a time.
And right before I fell asleep, I decided that one day at a time had to include a certain brown-haired forklift operator kind enough to see beyond the idiocy of an old fart.
* * * *
I wasn’t sure when Grant had his break on Saturdays, but I decided to take a chance it would be around one o’clock in the afternoon. I parked in the customer lot and walked around to the shipping and receiving area where I usually delivered during the week.
Grant was in the middle of unloading a semi, so I waited on the side, leaning against the same pole as I always did. When he finished w
ith the driver, our eyes locked, and his sweaty face lit up like it was Christmas. Yeah, I was dumb, but I’d finally caught a clue.
He mouthed “five minutes” to me and I gave him a thumbs-up sign. I watched as Grant ran over to the forklift and took off around the building. He was back in four minutes, his long-legged stride eating up the distance in no time.
When Grant was within a foot of me, he stopped. “Something I can help you with, stranger?” He gave me a shy little smile. He’d cleaned up a little and removed his uniform shirt to reveal a slightly sweaty, snug white T-shirt underneath. His pants were still a little dusty, though.
“Lunch? How about it?”
“Incentive?”
“It’s free.”
Grant rolled his eyes. “And?”
“Eh, maybe a quickie if we have time.”
“Oh, we’ll make the time. You know I can bend in ways that’ll make you howl.” My dick was getting weepy at the thought.
“Stop it, now. I’m hungry for food, first.” I put my hand at the small of his back and escorted him to my truck. I opened the passenger door for him, then went around to the driver’s side.
“How long for lunch?” I asked as I started up Herc.
“Usually half an hour, but I told them I had an errand to run, so take your time.”
“I like the way you think, honey.”
“I knew you would.”
We ended up at Roscoe’s, a buffet-style place not five minutes from Harry and Sons. The meal was filling, though neither of us was really paying that much attention to the food, except as oral stimulation. Our feet tangled together under the table while we teased each other with fork licks and straw fellatio. I hoped no one around us noticed our foreplay, but frankly I didn’t care.
Twenty minutes later, I left Herc running in a motel parking lot as I dashed in and paid for a room. I got the keys and drove us around to the back of the building. Herc was the only vehicle in sight.
I got out of the truck and met Grant on the other side, only to drag him behind me as I searched for the right room number.
Laughing, Grant said, “Slow down, Trev. We’ve got all the time in the world.”
I grunted as I finally found the right door and unlocked it. Pushing Grant inside, I closed it behind me and threw the keys, not worried about where they landed.