"I make really good bacon," he said in a singsong voice, taking my hands and swaying them back and forth slightly.
"Isn't all bacon good bacon? Also how would you know if you're never up early?" I asked, laughing, trying my hardest not to give in to his charm.
"Dude, bacon is an all day food, my friend. But your first point can only really be tested by you sticking around and letting me try to prove that I do in fact make better than average bacon," he retorted, loosening his grip just enough to make me want it back.
I thought about the giant piles of class materials sitting on my table, then about all of the things I would much rather be doing than trying to make sense of the nonsense that I knew most of the students had thrown down on paper without a second thought. I looked back at Aaron and saw him grinning excitedly, as if he already knew what I was about to say.
"I mean, as an academic, what choice do I have but to test your theory?" I said, surprised by how genuinely thrilled he seemed to have won me over.
"You're on," he said, scurrying back into the kitchen.
As I watched him start cooking and drafted an email to my classes to give them the day off, it hit me that this was the first time in ages that I'd felt like someone was genuinely interested in me and enjoyed being in my company. That made me feel sad for how far my marriage had fallen, but it mostly made me feel hopeful for the future.
Everything's gonna be okay, I thought. And finally, after months of feeling lost, I was starting to believe that. As I watched Aaron move around the kitchen, I was reminded of Mark. He'd always loved being in the kitchen. It was his favorite room in the house.
I'd heard from one of my old neighbors that he had been going for walks in the area over the last month. I was so proud of him that I'd nearly cried. I wanted to call, or go to him and tell him how proud I was. But Amy had pointed out that giving him any kind of hope that we could get back together before I was absolutely sure could set him back.
And I was nowhere near sure. My pregnant student, Lauren, had indeed gone to the adoption agency that Mark and I had tried to use, and because she was in two of my classes, I had to see her every single day. And each time, I remembered the particularly nasty fight I'd had with Mark in which he'd shouted at me that he didn't want to adopt anymore – that he had only even agreed to it in the first place because he knew had badly I'd wanted it, but he didn't want to be a father, especially now that he'd lost his.
That had been the point of no return for me. I'd tried to continue being supportive of him, but my heart was broken. I felt more like a caregiver than a partner in a marriage. I'd become so lost in those memories that I didn't immediately notice when Aaron set down a plate of food at the table and sat next to me.
"If you let it get cold, you're going to fuck up the results of the experiment," he said with a chuckle.
"Ah, sorry," I said. "My head was somewhere else."
"No way, dude. None of that today," he chided "Today is about having some goddamn fun and cancelling the pity party you've been throwing yourself. Today we party for real. Deal?"
"Deal," I said, taking a drink of what I thought was just orange juice from a glass he'd set in front of me. It had a strong shot of vodka mixed in. "Whoa, little early isn’t it? What was wrong with plain orange juice?"
"Dude, it is orange juice. It's just grown-up orange juice," he said. "Think of today as a vacation. This is part of the experience."
"I guess you're the boss," I said.
"Damn straight," he said, laughing. "So, the bacon. Was I right, or was I right?"
"I've had better," I said with a smirk after taking a bite.
"Shut up," he said, laughing as he threw a dish towel at me. "You're full of it."
We finished breakfast and he helped me clean up. When we were done, he suggested heading down to the pier for a walk and then to the beach for a swim. When I reminded him the water had probably turned cold as summer faded, he reminded me that I'd said he was the boss. I couldn't argue with that.
We stopped by the bar on the way to check for my phone. But it hadn't been turned in. I almost asked him if he minded if we stopped to pick up a replacement from the carrier’s store, but remembered the day was supposed to be about fun and decided it could wait. After all, it hadn't exactly been ringing much.
We drove down to the pier and walked down the row of booths run by local farmers and merchants. Aaron bought a giant touristy hat and when I started to walk ahead, put it on my head and laughed.
“I think you're forgetting how much older than you I am,” I said, adjusting the hat. “I'm at peak dad age right now. I can absolutely get away with wearing this.”
“True enough,” he said, a sly smile creeping across his face. “With a face like that you can get away with a lot.”
My cheeks flushed and I turned away to hide it, but I knew he saw. “So, are we swimming, or what? We need to get swim trunks.”
“No, we don't,” he said, walking ahead. “Trust me.”
He led me much further down the beach than I had ever been, over a large rock formation to a deserted cove.
“I had no idea this was here,” I said.
“I know,” he said, grinning. “Most people don't. Beautiful isn't it?”
“It's breathtaking,” I said, noticing that the water was much cleaner here than the rest of the beach, the sand unmarried by unsightly beach chairs or trash.
“Reminded me of you,” he said.
I turned my attention from the water to look at him and realized he had completely stripped down. I fought to keep my eyes locked on his face as I asked, “What the hell are you doing?”
“Going for a swim,” he said matter-of-factly. “You coming?”
“No, no, no, no,” I said. “Nuh-uh, not happening.”
“Suit yourself,” he said, running toward he water. It was hard not to watch him. His body was well toned, a thin layer of light red hair covering most of it. He waded in until the water was at his knees, then dove forward. I was dumbfounded by how free spirited he was.
And then I realized I wanted to be that way too. I hesitated for a brief moment, then saw him emerge from the water, pure joy on his face. I quickly took off my clothes and ran toward the water. He stood up and smiled at me, until I stopped dead in my tracks at the edge of the water.
This is nuts. What are you doing? I thought to myself. Then I looked up and saw Aaron splashing around, free and wild as if the rest of the world didn't matter. Screw it. I ran forward and dove in near where he was. I laid my head back and let myself float on the water.
As small waves crashed over me, I closed my eyes and finally let myself relax. I felt completely weightless, as if the waves were washing away all of my stress, heartache, guilt, and regret. My ears were submerged and all I could hear was the magnificent crashing of the ocean. It made all of my problems seem small, which was a blessing of the highest order. I had never before been so grateful to feel insignificant.
I felt a smile spread across my face, and not the cursory smile I'd grown so accustomed to wearing to avoid people knowing anything was wrong. This was a genuine, happy, smile like I hadn't felt in ages. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, but before I could even try to decide I was doing both.
I stood up and pulled Aaron into a tight embrace. “Thank you,” I said through tearful laughs. “You have no idea how badly I needed this.”
“See?” he said, grinning from ear to ear. “I'm full of good ideas. Stick with me, Humpty Dumpty. We’ll get you back together in no time.”
His face turned mischievous and he splashed water all over my face. I splashed him back, and he lunged forward and tackled me into the water, initiating a playful wrestling match. There was a small concern in the back of my mind that this was inappropriate, but I was really having fun. It had been way too long since I could honestly say that. So I quieted that concern, and we spent the rest of the morning frolicking in the ocean like children without a care in the world.
As noon approached, dark gray clouds began forming in the area, so we got dressed and headed back to my apartment, picking up lunch on the way. Over giant, greasy burgers from what Aaron called, "the best place in the Americas," we talked more and I learned a lot about him.
He was 28 and an aspiring theater actor, bartending now to save up money to move to New York. Like me, he came from a large family and was the oldest of four siblings. He was Aaron the third, but didn't use the suffix because, also like me, he wasn't close to his father. I probably wouldn't have remembered all of the little details of what he was telling me, if it hadn't been for the charming way he spoke. His smile was contagious, and he spoke with such animation and gusto that it was hard not to hang on his every word.
After lunch, he took me bowling at a tiny bowling alley in a part of town I didn't even know existed. I played so badly the first game that he had the attendant put up bumpers as a joke. But I used them anyway and still lost the second game.
When we left the bowling alley, the rain we'd been worried about earlier in the afternoon had arrived. It was raining so hard that we decided it was best to retire back to my apartment for the day, where we watched bad reality TV for several hours. After a while, I caught him staring at me.
"Do I have something on my face?" I said, wiping at my cheek.
"No, dude," he said laughing. "I was just thinking that I've seen you at Sofia's every night since I started working there. But today is the first time I've seen you smile. Not bad for a first date, right?"
I felt my cheeks flush bright red. Oh shit, I thought. I hadn't meant for this to be a date, and I hadn't until that moment considered the implication of having embraced him when we were both fully nude. I hadn't meant it as anything other than appreciation for what he'd done for me.
But he was also so damned handsome. His hair was still wet from the beach and the rain; and he'd changed into one of my t-shirts, which fit pretty loosely on him, while we washed the beach water and sand off of his clothes. It all played into the relaxed vibe that made him so appealing. It was getting harder to deny that I was attracted to him.
"Is that – um, is that what this was?" I asked, trying not to let on how nervous I suddenly was.
"Depends," he said, scooting just slightly closer, that smile flashing at me again.
"On what?" I asked, my entire body tensing up.
"You a kiss on the first date kinda guy?" he asked, a distinct glint in his eye that spelled trouble.
"No, not usually," I said, sweating bullets.
"Then, let's not consider this a date," he said, leaning in further. I felt like I was frozen in time as I watched his face approach mine. My body was screaming at me to let it happen, but my mind delivered a resounding no. I stood up off the couch before his lips could reach mine.
“I'm sorry," I said. "I can't do this. I'm married."
"Bro, aren't you getting a divorce?" he asked.
"Well, yes," I conceded. "But I haven't even filed the paperwork yet, and I've heard my husband has been getting better. So-"
"So, why do you still live here alone and get drunk every single night?" he asked.
"I do not get drunk every night," I argued.
"Yeah you do man. I've seen you come in to the bar every night for the last two weeks, and every night you take an Uber home because you're too shitfaced to drive yourself. So either you're an alcoholic, or you don't want to go back to your husband."
"Hey, you don't know me just because we spent one day together," I said, almost shouting.
"Whoa, bro, calm down. It's not that serious," he insisted. "I misread the vibe. No big deal. I'll leave." He started cleaning up the various snacks he'd gathered while we were watching TV.
"Wait, you don't have to go," I said. I'd realized that I'd only gotten angry because there was truth to his words, as much as it pained me to admit. "You're right, okay? There is a part of me that doesn't think I should go back to Mark now, if ever. But there is still an equal part of me that loves him, and hopes that he gets better so we can be together again. And I already fucked up once, and the guilt eats at me every day. I just don't want to make the same mistake twice."
"Understood," he said plainly, setting down what he had gathered. "How about we forget the last five minutes happened, have a drink, and try to relax?"
Five beers later I was enthralled in another of his stories. Before I knew it, midnight was approaching. I was amazed by how easy it was to spend an entire day with Aaron, but even more by how easy everything about him was. We could have had a huge fight and gone our separate ways. But he conceded so easily and just let it roll off his back. He did whatever he wanted without any concern. He just dealt with any consequences that arose, no hand-wringing whatsoever.
He spent the night again that night, on the couch this time. That weekend, after I fulfilled my lost bet duty to clean out Sofia's storage room at the bar, he went home with me again. One night turned into two, turned into three, and he was still there two weeks later. He left every day for work at the bar and to get fresh clothes from the apartment he shared with three other people, but every night ended with us drinking together and him passing out on the couch. He didn’t try to make a move again, and I wasn't so lonely anymore. So, I didn't mind him crashing.
Unfortunately, that saying about hindsight being 20/20 is 100 percent correct. If I could go back and undo every bit of October of that year, I would. As it stands, my new friendship with Aaron was a catalyst for chaos in both my personal life and my professional life.
It started innocently enough. In those first two weeks he stayed at my apartment, I missed three more days of work. After the third, Dr. Lewis informed me that while she understood that I was going through a tough time, any further days missed in that term would result in my pay being docked. But by that point I had begun to adopt Aaron's laissez-faire attitude, and I missed work again the very next day.
Until that day, I'd been so immersed in my new carefree lifestyle that I hadn't even replaced my missing cell phone. I finally got a replacement that day, only because I realized my next bill was coming due and I figured I should have a phone if I was paying for it. That was the only logical thing I did that day.
When I returned from buying the phone, Aaron was waiting at my apartment with several bottles of liquor and a large pack of beer. He'd gotten the lead role in a local production of Hamlet and wanted to celebrate. It was only 2 in the afternoon, but it wasn't like I had anywhere to be.
We spent the afternoon drinking much more than normal. At some point, once I was well past the legal blood alcohol limit, I became preoccupied with thoughts of that first day when he'd tried to kiss me. I was kicking myself for not letting him.
He was talking about how excited he was about the play, and I was watching his mouth move, wanting to kiss him more and more with each time he licked his lips or bit the corner of his bottom lip as he thought of what to say next.
Maybe it was the six shots of whisky. Maybe it was the four beers I'd chased them with. Maybe it was just that he was sexy and I was an idiot. Whatever the case, I found myself inching closer. He smelled incredible, notwithstanding the liquor on his breath. If I'm honest, that might have actually helped. He was still wearing the clothes he'd warn to his audition – a blue dress shirt that nicely accentuated his arms and contrasted his golden hair nicely, and a tight pair of black slacks. I didn't stand a chance. I poured two shots of whiskey and drank them both.
"Dude, are you okay?" he asked.
"Let's not consider this a date," I said, recalling the line he'd tried on me that first night as I poured each of us another shot.
He looked confused for a split second, then a sly grin spread across face and he took the shot. He handed me mine and I drank it quickly as he leaned across the table and my heart began to pound. He placed one hand on the back of my head and pressed his lips against mine. I briefly hesitated, but kissed him back. He moved closer and straddled my lap as he kissed me again and again.
I ran my fingers through his long hair as the kissing grew more intense and passionate. He began kissing my neck and every nerve ending in my body was ignited. I wrapped my arms around his thighs and stood, lifting him with me. He grabbed a bottle of tequila as I carried him to the bedroom and collapsed back on to the bed with him on top of me.
He took a drink straight from the bottle and then passed it to me. I took a large swig and dove right back in to kissing him. This devolved into perhaps the clumsiest sex of my life. We were much too drunk for it to be considered "good" but it was fun nonetheless.
Afterward, I lay with my head on his chest, exhausted, his arms wrapped around me. "Is this the romantic comedy bullshit you always dreamed of?" he said, playfully tickling me.
"Fuck you," I said, attempting to return the tickling, but giving up quickly.
"Didn't get enough the first time?" he asked with a laugh. "I think you're gonna have to buy me dinner if you wanna go again, dude."
"Shut up," I said, laughing and slapping his chest. "You know where the fridge is. Eat up while I take a shower."
"Oh, yes sir," he said, mischievously. "Be bossy like that next time, Dr. King."
I rolled my eyes and got up to take a shower, thinking I should at least consider getting some work done. I was still very drunk, so I hoped a hot shower would wake me up a bit. I let the hot water run over me. I started to wonder if I'd make a mistake – if I'd wake up feeling guilty in the morning.
Who cares, I decided. I heard my phone ring from the bedroom and I was instantly sure that it was Mark. I had briefly wondered if he'd called while I was without a phone earlier in the day, but decided he probably hadn't. But karma would serve me right for him to call now. I hurriedly exited the shower and toweled off, but the ringing had stopped. I could hear muffled talking as I made my way to the kitchen where Aaron was.
“I'll let him know you called,” he said as he hung up the phone.
How We Love Page 7