Scratch the Matchmaker

by Austin Daniels

  Trying desperately not to show my excitement at being asked out so soon, I reached to open the door for him. "Yeah, I think that's great. Does Jay know anything about that?"

  "No, Jay and I haven't had a conversation in years. I know he's kind of busy with school and all, and he has every reason to believe I don't love him anymore." Turning to face me again, he asked, "Do you think that's a thing? I mean, when gay people come out, do they just assume the people who have loved them all their lives don't love them anymore?"

  Closing the door again, leaving us inside, I leaned with my back to the door. "I've heard horror stories. You know the stories about gay people who were treated horribly by their parents. I think people are just afraid that will happen to them and, let's face it, that's exactly what happened to Jay. It's just easier to assume and not find out for sure. He was happy to be with his new dad, but painfully aware that his mother gave him up without a word to him about it."

  "Well, this has to stop now, especially now that I'm dating his best friend. I need to get my brother back."

  He said it, I thought. 'Dating' is what I heard. I had a lousy sense of smell, but I could hear just fine. Finch had said 'dating.' I kind of felt like we were dating, but it hadn't really become official. Now, I knew for sure. This story was beginning to gel. It definitely had a middle. It occurred to me that if everything went the way I wanted it to, the end wouldn't be coming anytime soon. Pulling together every piece of self-control I possessed, I said, "You just let me work on that. When I think I've figured it out, I'll let you know. One thing's for sure: you and Jay have to get back together soon."

  Looking away like he was searching his memory, Finch confessed, "I really appreciate you trying. I really hope he can overlook our childhood and accept me the way I am today. You come up with a plan and we'll do it. You know him better than I do anyway."

  The look of hope in Finch's eyes told the whole story. He was sincere, and oh my god… we were dating. I opened the door again, and with a quick peck on my lips, he turned to leave. "See you at 5:30," I called out after him.

  Chapter Nine

  Logan

  Before dinner, Finch took me over to see his house. He lived in an older house on the side of the park where I first saw him holding Scratch. It reminded me of the house I grew up in. I stood in the entry looking at his used furniture and the curtains that must have come with the place. The thing that impressed me was that it was his. He wasn't renting this house.

  I sat on the couch in the living room, and he sat right next to me. "You're the first guy I've ever been out with that owned a house. Guys like you don't usually ask guys like me out."

  He turned around and looked at me hard. He was frowning. Taking me by the shoulders, he pulled me toward him, kissed me on the forehead, and said, "Don't… you… ever… place yourself beneath anyone else like that." Then he tilted my head back by lifting my chin with his finger to keep me from turning away. Staring down into my eyes so intently, I could make out the colorful flecks in his eyes when he said, "When I saw you in the park coming for that little dog, I saw the guy I wanted. You are everything I desire. For me, you are the guy other men should aspire to be."

  I was speechless. There were too many arguments taking place in my head while secrets crashed into reality. "Okay, then we gotta talk," I said, standing up and pulling away. "Jay told me something about you, and until I clear it up, I'm not going to be able to be myself around you. I mean, I'm going to be on guard just a little bit, so here it is…

  "When Jay was going through the list of things that he holds against you, it became obvious that he thought you took advantage of lonely guys. He told me that more than once. When I tell him about being with you I'm afraid, he'll jump to the same conclusion."

  Finches face fell. He jumped to his feet, visibly upset. "He still believes that? You must think…You don't think that…Okay, I'm going to tell you a story. I've only told this story to one person, and that time it backfired on me. I'm hoping you might understand. I know you'll never trust me until I tell you, so here it is:

  "When I was a teenager, I had a circle of gay friends. They were always making comments about how hot some of the guys in school were. I pretty much thought most of them were emaciated. I knew that certain things were considered beautiful. I guess it's the same as knowing what girls are pretty if you're a gay guy. Maybe the thing I mean to say is those guys they liked were conventionally beautiful. Anyway, there were two guys in our class that I thought were particularly hot. None of the guys liked them at all. As a matter of fact, some of the girls treated them like outcasts as well.

  "When I was a senior in high school, I was walking one of those guys home when Jay came up behind us. He heard me talking to him and trying to get him to go out with me. That night, when we got home, he made fun of me at the dinner table. He looked me straight in the face in front of everyone and said I was trying to pick up fat guys at school in order to get laid.

  "Mom didn't talk to me much anymore and Jay and I never got along very well. I hadn't come out to anyone about being attracted to big guys. I wasn't really experienced at even being gay for that matter. He and I never talked about it again. We've barely spoken to each other since.

  "The three of us already knew about each other. Mom was clueless about Robin and Jay. Why would she ever expect to have three sons who were all gay?"

  I was listening to Finch's story, but something he'd said earlier stuck in my memory. "You said before that you told that story and it backfired on you? How does a story like that backfire?"

  "Well, I guess it's all in the telling and the person you tell it to. I learned a long time ago not to say, 'I like fat dudes.' But it's not just that. If I tell a guy I like the fact that he's bigger than the other guys, most of the time, he feels insulted. Every time I date a guy, he starts to diet to look better for me. I tell him I like him the way he is and he thinks I'm just being polite."

  Hearing all of this was going against everything I'd ever believed about my place in the world. I'd always had a poor self-image thinking I needed lose weight. I never understood why I was big in the first place. I ate my meals with other people. I didn't eat more than they did, but I got big while they didn't. I'd considered going to a weight loss clinic, but my regular doctor didn't seem to be concerned enough to approve it, and without a referral, I'd have to cover all the costs. As a college student that wasn't going to fly. My doctor said 'You're not obese. You're just a little plump.' As long as I could remember I'd hated my weight. Hearing what Finch had to say made me feel like it was an asset.

  "Yeah, I can see how that might not go over well. This is a lot to take in." I said. "Sure gives me something to think about."

  I couldn't think. Maybe it was shock. Try as I might, I had no logical response to his story. Finch liked big guys. I was a big guy. I'd never felt so grateful for my size. Then I started to cry. Finch pulled me to him, and I buried my face in his chest and just sobbed for a second. I felt like all of the pain I'd held inside was getting out. The thing is, something just made me feel like that pain was never coming back. Maybe it was the moment I accepted myself and my body. I found my own confidence. I'd never discussed my size with someone I liked this way. Jay and I had talked about it, but I was immune to him.

  Finch was concerned he might have hurt my feelings. I assured him that wasn't the issue. My tears turned to laughter as I took a moment to comfort him.

  "Finch, that means Jay is guilty for at least part of the bad feelings between you. You're right; this has to end now. Jay still thinks you're using insecure men. He needs to know the truth. You need to come out to your brother."

  Before Finch left, I had a little talk with him. "I'm going to pave the way for this reunion. I honestly think I need to do a little prep work to get him ready to even accept the idea that this problem goes two ways."

  "That works for me. If you can pave the way to a reunion, I'm all for it."

  *~*~*

  After sayin
g goodbye to Finch, I grabbed my phone and called Jay. Time was important. I knew Jay's dislike for his brother needed to change.

  When I returned home, I called Jay. Oddly, something else was starting to bother me. "You got a few minutes?"

  "Sure. Why, what's up?"

  "Well first of all, I have a boyfriend."

  "Really! That's huge. What's his name?"

  "I'll get to that, but first I have to tell you the story of how I met him." Over the next few minutes, I explained the details of Scratch's running away at the park, the rescue and everything that followed. Afterwards, without explaining the identity of my mystery boyfriend, I brought up another issue. "I've been thinking. Don't you think it's just a little odd that in the course of forty-eight hours you got a boyfriend, I got a boyfriend, and Marty got a boyfriend? In each case, both people were fussing over Scratch. Spooky, isn't it?"

  "Yeah, a little," Jay said after thinking about it a while. "We were all single, though, so maybe it's just a coincidence?"

  "Wanna test it?"

  "How would we do that?"

  "Who is the least likely person you know to meet someone special and fall in love?"

  "Are you thinking of Johnny?"

  "Sure. Wouldn't you like to see Johnny meet that special someone? Wouldn't it prove that Scratch had a special matchmaking power if Johnny suddenly found the man of his dreams?"

  "Well, the truth is Johnny sort of picked up the landlord while they were messing with Scratch. So that might already be done. I don't know if anything more came of it, though."

  "Oh, my God! That makes four. That's more than a little spooky."

  Chapter Ten

  Jay

  The next day I got cleaned up and put Scratch in my car. He was all over the place. Driving with a dog in your lap, especially one that wants to kiss or stick his head out the window, is a little scary when you aren't used to it. I finally got him calmed down, and we headed over to Johnny's. When we arrived, I could see from the cars that Finch was already there.

  I picked up Scratch and walked toward the front door. Johnny was apparently waiting and watching because the door opened as I got near. "Well, hi there, Scratch," he said. Johnny was all over the little guy. He even buried his nose in Scratch's neck, saying, "Now, that's what a dog is supposed to smell like."

  "You can play with him in just a minute," I said putting Scratch on the floor. "First let me show him to Robin. Where is he, anyway?"

  Before he could answer, Finch walked into the room from the den and shook my hand. Seeing Scratch he bent down to pat him on the head and Scratch jumped up to greet him. No accounting for taste, I thought. Finch scooped him up and held him in front of him. "How are you boy?"

  As he set Scratch back on the floor, Johnny told me Robin was in the kitchen.

  Watching Scratch walk around sniffing at the furniture I got a little nervous. At times like this, I tended to remember Scratch's accident at the store where I'd met Richard. I walked into the kitchen with Scratch following close behind. As expected, Robin was in the kitchen avoiding everyone else. As I walked in, I announced proudly, "Look what I got."

  Robin dropped to a squat next to Scratch, showering him with affection and then picking him up. Scratch seemed to be in doggie heaven, trying his best to kiss Robin, grinning that little grin-pant of his and showing the little space between his front bottom teeth.

  Finally setting him down, Robin took the time to greet me as well. We all went back into the living room, where I told most of the story about Scratch's arrival. I thought it best to leave out the two-day drunk I'd planned and the bastard boyfriend reason for it all. I left it out, not because I was ashamed about being abandoned, but because, for some reason, the picture of me planning a two-day drunk didn't seem like me anymore. Somehow, I knew I'd never be that man again.

  Johnny came into the kitchen. "I checked with the restaurant just to make sure we can take Scratch. He's welcome as long as we sit outside. The restaurant has really nice outdoor seating, so I see no reason why Scratch can't come with us," Johnny said.

  Perfect, I thought, glad that I wouldn't have to leave him in Johnny's back yard.

  The restaurant was packed, but we had reservations. Once we told them we wanted to sit outside, we were soon seated. Before long, we were all looking over our menus. I was glad to see that Scratch was behaving. When the server came to take our drink order, he saw Scratch sitting quietly between Johnny and me. He bent over to pet him on the head when his order pad fell. The sound of the pad hitting the concrete frightened Scratch, who let out a little yelp. A lady walking by the table dropped to her feet to pet Scratch, having heard him yelp. The server grabbed the order pad, losing his balance slightly. He accidentally grabbed the woman's hand with a loose page from the tablet and Scratch's fur. He looked up at that lady and I recognized the moment as their eyes met.

  "Excuse me," said the server without breaking the look.

  "Okay… I mean, that's okay. I, uh, saw... dog and uh." As I watched them, it was obvious to me that this lady was completely taken with our server. How long are these two going to stare at each other? I thought. Finally, the server released the lady's hand, retrieved his pad, and reached back with his other hand to pet Scratch. As he ran his hand through the fur on Scratch's neck, he ran into her hand again. They both looked up. This time their faces were inches apart. For a second, it looked like our server was going to kiss her, bent over the way he was.

  The server stood up, composing himself. A flushed look on his face made it obvious to me that he was embarrassed and concerned he was overstepping his bounds with a complete stranger. It seemed like Logan's theory about Scratch was panning out. I brought Scratch hoping he'd affect Finch, but so far that hadn't happened.

  Right after the server delivered the food, he excused himself. Everyone else at the table thought nothing of it, but I watched his movements to see what he'd do next. He went to the back of the restaurant, found the lady, and started talking to her. When he returned, he was all smiles. His phone was in his hand and he was punching a button, which I guessed was the save button of his contact file. Scratch had done it again.

  When the people sitting next to us left, the busboy came to clear the table. After removing the dishes and stacking them in a little plastic bin, I heard him say, "Robin, is that you?"

  "Yeah, Raymond, is that you? I didn't know you worked here. How long have you been here?"

  "Always—my dad owns the place. I'm usually in the back, but the busboy called out today. If I'm not at home working, I'm down here working. Your dog? He's cute."

  Scratch stood up and walked over to Robin's side of the table. Robin reached down to pet him, and right on cue, I watched as Raymond dropped to one knee. He reached out and ran his hand across Scratch's rump. Scratch moved backwards, causing their hands to meet. Then, as I expected, he looked up and Robin looked down at the same moment, making the connection. Right now is that magic moment, I thought. I was almost used to this as a normal thing now. I sat back and watched.

  The expression on Robin's face changed. He sort of dropped his smile as though all the muscles of his face relaxed at once. Then Raymond touched Robin's hand again. As I expected, he did not withdraw. I looked at the table to see Johnny staring across the room at our server. He was missing the entire thing. Finch was studying his menu and hadn't paid any attention to what sounded like a reunion. Raymond stood up, wiped his hands across his apron as if to dislodge any loose dirt from the floor, and whispered something to Robin. Raymond was a handsome young man, with dark brown hair trimmed close, and his face had strong features. He was our age, about my height, and dressed in standard busboy black dress pants and white dress shirt. It was apparent that even though his dad owned a restaurant, he didn't overeat. I watched Robin break into a smile from whatever Raymond had just said to him, nodding in agreement. He grinned and took off.

  Two down, one to go, I thought. It occurred to me that Finch might be a tougher egg to crack. Afte
r all, he wasn't the kind of guy people just liked right off the bat. I was curious what kind of guy might find Finch mate material. I didn't really wish him on anyone, but I was curious just how powerful little Scratch might be.

  The rest of the evening was fairly ordinary. We had a nice meal and the server, whose name turned out to be Paul Robinson, took exceptional care of us, and we left him a nice tip. Before we got home, Robin's phone began to ring. I was sitting in the back seat right behind him. I could see the face of his cell phone as he pulled it out of his pocket. The name flashing across the screen was Raymond Torres. Who else? I thought. Scratch had done his job, but apparently run out of steam after two. Maybe it doesn't work that way, I thought. Maybe the right person has to be around. It couldn't just be anybody. I liked that idea. It made me feel better about Richard. The idea I would fall for the first guy who came along after meeting Scratch didn't exactly appeal to me.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jay

  At home, the phone rang before I had a chance to call Richard. It was Logan. I was just about to tell him that his idea about Scratch having an effect on people's relationships might actually have some validity, but I still wanted more verification. It just seemed like so much magic. I felt like this whole concept was going to take more study. I explained this to Logan, but he wasn't about to have any of that.

  The sole purpose of his call was to find out what had happened at dinner. When I was done telling him, he gloated a bit about his new boyfriend, but never told me who the guy was. I wasn't about to let him hang up without some more details. "Tell me about him? What's he look like? What's his name?"

  "I'll tell you later. I don't want to get into details yet."