by J. M. Lamp
“Maybe that’s exactly what you need.”
“That’s what Elliot said,” I say.
Lydia laughs and says, “Well maybe we are right. Just because you haven’t completely healed doesn’t mean that there isn’t room for someone new in your life. I think Elliot could help you heal the rest of the way.”
“You don’t even know him.”
“Yeah,” she says, folding her arms across her chest. “I know I don’t. Let’s change that.”
“What?”
“I want you to invite him to breakfast with us on Sunday. I’ll be able to tell pretty quick if he is right for you or not and then if I don’t like him, you don’t have to date him.”
I roll my eyes at her and make my way to the kitchen. I get a glass of water and refill Abbey’s cup of juice and make my way back to the couch.
“I’ll ask him,” I say, taking a drink.
“So, dinner with his friends tomorrow, huh?”
“I’ve met the two,” I say, sitting the glass down on the table. “I just have to meet the last one.”
“What about his family?”
“They don’t live in the city. And he’s an only child.”
“Well that’s no fun,” she says.
“Yes,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest, “he will never know the sheer joy of having someone bully him at a young age or questioning the decisions he makes in his adult life.”
***
“Will, this is Ethan,” Elliot says as we go to sit down.
I smile and Ethan beams back. He ignores my handshake and embraces me for a hug that is a little tighter than expected.
“You smell amazing,” Ethan says as he lets go and I laugh.
“Really?” Elliot says to Ethan as I scoot into the booth next to Hadley.
Hadley leans into my ear and says, “He’s really not that weird. He just likes to make a very odd first impression with new people so you know what you are getting into.” I laugh and look over at Ethan who is already checking out someone at the bar-area.
“Did you guys hear about that old man getting shot a couple blocks from here Wednesday night?” Sam asks, looking around the table. He looks at Hadley and raises his eyebrows in a well-you-must-have way.
“Samuel,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest, “do you realize how many people get shot in Chicago on an hourly, even minutely, basis let alone a daily basis? I don’t know every crime that happens and I don’t even work in this part of the city.” She lifts her menu off the table and flips the page.
“But yes,” she says with a smile, “I did hear about it.”
“Okay,” Sam says. “Well, it turns out that old guy was the husband to that woman I was talking about the other day who’s hobby is spending all her husband’s riches and writing shitty books about vampires and such. She called me earlier today to tell me about the fact and said that she appreciated all I had done, but the one cover was going to be all that she did because she didn’t have the time to finish her series now.”
“Whatever will we do,” Elliot says.
“I know,” Sam says with a frown. “I just couldn’t believe it was her husband. I wonder if she hired someone to do it. She didn’t sound too concerned about the fact on the phone.”
“Well I wouldn’t be either if I was a gold-digging whore who just gained access to my husbands fortunes,” Hadley says, raising her eyebrows.
“So, Will,” Ethan says, focusing his attention back on myself and the group, “you’re a professor?”
“Yep,” I say. “A few years now. Don’t know how much longer, though.”
“What else do you see yourself doing?”
“I don’t know,” I say. I take a pause and say, “I know I like helping people and teaching them things, but I don’t think the college setting is the place I should be doing it.”
“I know of a lot of youth organizations and stuff like that that could use some guidance and help in general,” Hadley says. “One in particular that I know of has been trying to get funding for a while now and I heard the other day that things are finally starting to look up. It’s for young, LGBTQ youths and some of the funding is actually contributed from the police department because they are trying to get more involved and show that they are accepting and things like that.”
“Anything to save face,” Elliot says.
“Basically,” she says with a nod. “I’ll find out more about it and let you know.”
“Second time seeing Hadley and she already has you a new job,” Elliot says, rubbing my back.
“I know,” I say as the waiter comes over to our table. “Your friends are amazing.”
“You’re lucky,” Ethan says, closing his menu up. “She can be a real bitch sometimes.”
Hadley throws her straw-wrapper at him and we all try to order in spite of the laughter we can’t contain.
“Elliot told me the other day that you have been looking into other things is all,” she says. “This opportunity would be great for you, though.”
***
Two hours, baskets of fries, pounds of meat, and several beers later, Ethan is telling us all the story of how last night he broke up with the guy who he has been seeing named Paul, but not before he had sex with him one last time.
“You couldn’t just walk away could you, bud?” Elliot says, digging his face into my shoulder and trying to keep from falling over from laugher. I’d never seen Elliot with this much alcohol in him, but he is ridiculously happy and I love every single minute of it.
“You do smell good, William,” Elliot says, sniffing my neck. He plants a kiss on my cheek and turns his focus back to Ethan.
Taking a swig of his beer, he says, “What did he say before you actually did leave?”
“He was asleep,” Ethan says with wide eyes. “I wore him out with our last sha-bonga and I slipped out before he could wake up and remember it and stuff and yeah I just left because why not and I haven’t heard from him and that’s good because yeah and he needs to find someone else or something else like a dictionary because he’s stupid.”
Ethan finishes off his beer and sits it on the side. He picks up one of his leftover fries and holds it inches from his face. He finally eats it and says, “Cock of gold, though. Cock of gold.”
“They never usually drink this much,” Sam says to my right, having taken Hadley’s spot who had to leave early because of work again. “Well, Elliot never does at least.”
I look over at Elliot and he is focused in on Ethan who is telling him a new story about this bar he installed security at a few days before. I can tell he is getting tired because he is slowly moving from side to side and his eyelids are getting closer together.
“I like how free he is when he drinks,” I say. “He’s that way when he doesn’t drink, too. I’m the opposite. I’m an emotional mess I feel like.”
“Me too,” Sam says, laughing. “I never drink if I’m dating someone because by the end of the night, I’ve either planned our wedding or accused them of cheating on me and it always ends with them thinking I’m crazy.”
“Elliot hasn’t mentioned if you were with anyone,” I say, wiping my hands on my napkin and throwing it on my plate.
“I was,” he says. “A few months ago I was still with my ex, Andrew, and he actually had been cheating on me for two out of the three years that we were together.”
I raise my eyebrows and he laughs and says, “I came home early one day and found him screwing the neighbor on the dining room table.”
“Like the Andrew that you guys work for?”
“No,” he says. “No, no. Different guy. Same level of douchebag-ness, though.”
“That sucks, man.”
“It wasn’t my table, so I didn’t get as upset as I could have.”
I laugh and he takes a drink of his tea.
“I moved out the next day and Elliot had his spare room, so I just moved on in and ever since have made it a point to tell everyone Andrew knows that he
is a cheating, cock-sucking asshole who will die alone.”
“Have you went out with anybody since or just focusing on yourself right now?”
“Focusing on myself,” he says, nodding. “I don’t know. I love being in a relationship and having someone to come home to at night, but to be honest, I’ve always been with someone and I’m kind of enjoying my time alone right now. Focusing on work.”
Sam nods towards Elliot and I make a quick glance over at him and then back to Sam.
“He was focusing on work, too, before you came into the picture; in a different way. For the wrong reasons.”
“He told me his ex left,” I say.
“Yeah,” he says. “He pretends like it didn’t bother him that much, but I know it did. But I will say the way he looks at you and the way he acts around you and even the way he talks about you, he never was that way with Drew. Drew was just someone to spend time with and be with so he didn’t have to be alone. Drew was his comfort-zone.”
Sam coughs, lets out a small laugh and says, “I’m sorry. Some real-talk just felt the need to relish from my body I guess.”
“It’s OK,” I say. “Real-talk is better than random babble.”
“But seriously,” he says, moving closer to me, “I know it is early for you two, but you’re helping Elliot in ways that I don’t think he realizes yet.”
I look over at Elliot and catch him mid-laugh in a conversation with Ethan. He brings his hand to his mouth to keep himself from spitting out his drink and Ethan has his head lying on the table, dying from laughter. In this moment, all my worries about my career are gone. All I see is Elliot and a chance at a happiness I had lost over a year ago when Evan was taken away from me. I see myself healing and slowly, all the darkness that has clouded my mind seems to be diminishing.
***
I wake up Saturday morning to the sound of Elliot dry-heaving on the floor of my bathroom. It’s seven in the morning and while I feel fantastic, I look from my bed, straight into the bathroom, and see his hands folded on top of the toilet seat and his hair slicked back from sweat.
I get up and slowly make my way to the bathroom. I lean against the side of the doorframe and smile. He looks up at me and his eyes are filled with moisture - his face stern and serious.
“I’ve been here all night,” he says and looks back to the bottom of the toilet bowl.
I grab a washcloth underneath the sink and wet it with warm water. I wring it out and sit down next to Elliot. Even with the faint smell of vomit surrounding him and sweat drenching every part of his head and upper-body, I can’t help but relish in the fact that this beautiful man is in my life.
I move behind him and gently lean him back into my chest. I lift the washcloth and wipe away the sweat above his brow and along his forehead. He takes my left hand and cups it between his, sitting it on his thigh.
“Thank you,” he says with exhaustion. “I never drink that much. Not since college.”
“I know,” I say. “How about you shower and I’ll get you some water?”
“How about I just curl myself around your toilet and stay here until tomorrow?”
I reach over and turn the shower on – making sure the water is cool rather than warm.
“Come on,” I say slowly helping him onto his feet. He sits on the side of the bathtub and I help him with his socks and pants. He takes off his shirt and hands it to me as he slowly turns his body into the tub and sits down inside it.
“The water is on the other—“
“I know, William,” he says, sighing. He lifts the shower curtain up and over his head and disappears to the other side.
As I make my way to leave the bathroom, I hear the shower curtain slightly open and see his head popped out.
“Thank you,” he says and slowly closes it back up. I smile and throw his clothes on the floor next to the washer and dryer.
Twenty minutes later, I look down the hallway and see Elliot walk from the bathroom into the bedroom. I grab a large bowl and grab his glass of water and make my way to the bedroom.
“Did you have anything special to do today?” he asks me with one hand over his head.
“No,” I say. “Just some grading and planning.” I walk over to his side of the bed and sit down the bowl and the water. He grabs my hand and I sit down on the side of the bed next to him.
“Do you want me to lie here with you till you fall asleep?”
He nods and I climb over him onto the other side. I flip to my side and I spoon him from behind. I listen to the sound of the heat turn on and off and think about breakfast tomorrow and how I haven’t even mentioned it to him yet.
He falls asleep quickly and the sound of his breathing, mixed with the rising and falling of his chest, leads me to gently moving off the bed away from him. I make my way to the living room and grab the stack of papers I have to grade before the weekend is over.
One in the afternoon comes and I stack everything on the kitchen table as I hear a knock on the door. I look out the eyehole in the door and see Lydia holding Abbey. I freeze, unlock the door and jerk the door open.
“Hi,” she says with confusion.
“What’s up?” I say, forcing a smile. Abbey throws her arms out to me and I grab her, turning back towards the kitchen.
“We were just out doing some shopping and Abbey wanted to see her Uncle Will, so I thought I’d just pop-in.”
Lydia makes her way to the couch and peeks her eyes down the hallway searching for clues as to what I’m doing with my day. She turns towards me and her eyes shift from me to the kitchen table and then back to me.
“Busy day?” she asks me, folding her arms.
I make my way to the couch and set Abbey down beside me.
“Just teaching stuff,” I say. “You want something to drink?”
“Sure.”
I make my way back to the kitchen and I grab a bottle of water for Lydia and fill a small glass with apple juice for Abbey.
“Thank you,” Abbey says, smiling up at me as I hand her the glass. I sit down on the loveseat next to the couch and arch my neck back, rubbing it.
I hear the bed creak in the bedroom and my eyes shift to Lydia who instantly spawns a smile across her face.
“Just teaching stuff, huh?”
“Shut up,” I say.
“Pretty late sleeper isn’t he?”
“He had a rough night.”
“Oh yeah,” she says, “went out with the friends. What did he say about tomorrow?”
“I haven’t asked him yet,” I say. She rolls her eyes and sets her water down on the coffee table. “I just forgot, honestly.”
“Well, I’ll just invite him myself,” she says, smiling.
“I doubt he wakes up while—“
“Hey,” I hear Elliot yawn out behind me. I look back and Elliot is dressed in a plain white shirt and basketball shorts. He makes eye contact with Lydia and a smile flashes across his face.
“Hey yourself,” Lydia says.
“You must be the infamous sister I keep hearing about.” Elliot walks closer and sits down beside me on the loveseat. “And you must be Abbey,” he says. Abbey’s smile glistens when she looks up at Elliot and she lets out a small giggle.
“Hi,” she says, leaning into Lydia. Abbey looks up to Lydia and says, “Who’s that, mommy?”
“That’s your future uncle-in-law, Abbs,” she says.
“Really?” I say, rolling my eyes at Lydia.
Her and Elliot erupt into laughter and Elliot grabs hold of my hand.
“Do you feel better?” I ask him.
“Yeah,” he says. “Thank you.”
“So, Elliot,” Lydia says, uncrossing her arms and wrapping her left one around Abbey, “William and I have breakfast every Sunday morning as part of some random family tradition we started when I had Abbey. I had told him days ago to invite you, but he forgot. That or he is embarrassed of me.”
“What the heck, William?” Elliot says, darting his eyes towards
me and grinning.
“I really did forget,” I say.
“I’d love to join you guys tomorrow,” he says, looking back to Lydia.
“Awesome,” she says, beaming. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude on your guys’ day. We were just out and Abbey wanted to see Will, so I stopped by real quick.” Lydia gets off the couch and makes her way to the kitchen. Abbey follows and I get off the loveseat and follow them to the door.
“I’ll pick you up tomorrow around nine,” I say, opening the door.
“Bye, girls,” Elliot says from behind us.
“Say bye, Abbs,” Lydia says, lifting her in her arms and looking back towards Elliot.
“Bye,” she says with a little wave. She smiles and looks at me, pinching her lips together. I kiss her on the cheek and she giggles.
“Bye, guys,” Lydia says and I shut the door behind them.
“I’m sorry I slept so late,” Elliot says as I make my way back towards the living room.
“It’s OK,” I say. He moves to the couch and I sit down beside him. I wrap my arm around him and he snuggles into my chest. “Are you hungry?”
“Not really,” he says, “but I should probably eat anyway.”
“How about spaghetti or something? Or I have a frozen lasagna in the freezer that I’ve had no reason to cook for myself.”
“Lasagna sounds good,” he says. I get off of the couch and he groans, sliding off my shoulder onto the couch. I grab the lasagna out of the freezer and preheat the oven.
“So,” I say, taking it out of the box, “I hope breakfast tomorrow is OK. She put you on the spot.”
“Yeah,” he says, turning his body towards me, “it will be nice.”
“You really don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“Do you have chips or something?” he asks, getting up off the couch. He makes his way into the kitchen and opens one of the cabinet doors. “That’s going to take a few hours and I actually am sort of hungry.”
“You may eat whatever you please, Mr. Edwards.”
Elliot comes up behind me and wraps his hands around my waist. He kisses the side of my neck and a surge runs through my body. I turn around to face him and bring my hands around his hips, bringing him closer into me.