by Vivien Dean
“Is this your way of asking if I have some fetish about pregnant women?” I said with a laugh.
“That’s something a gay man should know about the guy he’s interested in, don’t you think? I need to know who my competition is.”
“You have competition? How did I not know that?”
“Because your head is big enough already.”
It was getting easier to let comments like that slide. I was starting to enjoy the way he teased how insecure I could be. It all felt a little ridiculous considering how apparent his affection for me was.
“I couldn’t have told you what a sonographer was until I went to college,” I said. “But I was planning on some kind of medical tech program and it turned out I was pretty good at it.”
“What did you dream about being when you were growing up?”
“Out.”
Fisher snorted. “Didn’t we all.”
But I didn’t have an easy answer to his question. “I can’t say I ever really had aspirations about anything else,” I mused. “I guess I’ve always figured I’d be the one to take care of my parents after they retired.”
“Why?”
“Who else is going to do it?”
“You have two older brothers. Why can’t they share the burden?”
“Seth’s got a family. And David will, too, someday.”
“So could you, someday.”
“I’ve barely started dating. By the time I get around to something more permanent, I’ll be old enough to be a grandfather.”
Fisher was relentless, though. “Do you want a family?”
“Do you?” I countered.
“Yes,” he replied without hesitating.
“That was quick.”
“Because I’m sure. What’s the point of waffling if you know what you want?”
A month ago, I could’ve made a solid argument in defense of indecision. Now, after experiencing the benefits of random acts of bravery, I’d be a hypocrite telling him he was wrong.
“For what it’s worth, I think you’d be a pretty amazing father,” Fisher said. “But I can tell I’m scaring you with all this family talk, so I’ll let it go.”
And he did. Which I was grateful for.
But it didn’t mean I stopped thinking about what he’d asked of me.
* * * *
“Why do you want a family so badly?” I asked him on Tuesday.
Fisher sighed. I felt a little guilty springing the question on him today. When he’d called me after work, he’d sounded exhausted. Then he’d told me what a bitch of a day it had been which proved he was as tired as I’d thought. I should’ve let him go to get some sleep, but he didn’t seem in any hurry to get off the phone and frankly, I was hungry for more of him.
“Promise not to laugh?”
Why would I ever laugh? “Of course.”
“There’s the usual. I love kids. I love all the tradition that comes with holidays. But the real reason is…I’m terrified of being alone.”
As hard as it was to imagine Fisher scared of anything, I believed him. “Look at how big your family already is, though. You’d always have them.”
“To a degree,” he conceded. “I know it’s silly—”
“It’s not.”
“It was being in the hospital that drove it home. People were always visiting, but I spent a lot of hours on my own or with the hospital staff. Did I tell you they made me see a psychiatrist while I was there?”
“No.”
“I never blogged about it. Part of me is still a little ashamed.”
“Why? You went through a major trauma.”
“Because I never told my family I continued seeing Dr. Mohr after she decided I was dealing with the loss okay. It was just such a relief to be able to unload without having to feel like I was burdening someone. She helped me cope with how lonely I got without having my brothers there, or the other firefighters. That’s when I realized I felt safest when I was surrounded by other people.”
And he was still trying out this long distance dating thing with me? That was a huge sacrifice on his part. Nothing to keep him company but the sound of my voice and an impersonal video feed.
But he was still doing it. For me.
I must’ve been quiet too long after this revelation because he spoke up first. “I told you it was silly.”
“It’s not.” It came out as a force of breath, my vehemence startling me into sitting up. This felt like too important a conversation to have lying down. “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.”
His soft breath over the line helped to calm my racing heart. “I feel like I can talk to you about anything. Is that weird considering we haven’t known each other that long?”
“I don’t know. I don’t have anything to compare it to.” I didn’t want to leave my lame joke as my only answer, though, so I added, “If it helps, the same goes for me. I think some people just click, regardless of circumstances. You and me, we click. That’s all I need to know.”
“Maybe we knew each other in a previous life.”
His tone was lightening. “Maybe on our second date, we should both go see hypnotists who can make us remember who we were to each other.”
“Oh, no, you don’t. I won that bet. I’m the one who gets to decide what we’re doing. Them’s the rules.”
“So what are we going to do?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t figured out how to top Chopped yet. But I will, just give me time.”
“Whatever it takes.”
* * * *
Wednesday night was a bust. If I didn’t stick with Mom’s routine with the lottery, she would’ve demanded to know what could be more important. Fisher was sweet and understanding about it, but it was still tough. Especially when I went to bed and found a video message from him wishing me good night.
Thursday night, he was the one to bow out. His text begged me to forgive him, but he had an emergency come up at work and he couldn’t get out of it. I tried tooling around online to distract myself when watching TV with my parents didn’t work, but I gave up at nine and called it an early night.
At midnight, my phone beeped.
I woke up at once, but fell back asleep almost right away. My dreams had been too good to ignore. It was the second reminder beep that went off two minutes later that finally got me reaching for my phone on the nightstand.
The words blurred. I had to squint to see it was a text from Fisher.
You up?
My fingers were still asleep because I didn’t recognize the words I typed in. I had to delete them all and start over.
I’m here.
Can we talk?
My instincts said yes, but the familiar sounds of my house as it slept reminded me I wasn’t alone. Chat?
I was hoping to see you.
I wanted to see him, too, but too much noise could wake up my parents. That would make for an awkward conversation if they came and knocked on my door.
On the other hand, I was an adult, and if I wasn’t being disruptive, it shouldn’t matter if I had a call in the middle of the night.
Parents sleeping, so can’t be loud.
No making you laugh. Got it.
A minute later, I had headphones on and my laptop open on the bed beside me. I answered Fisher’s call on the first ring and was immediately greeted by the sight of his bare chest.
My intake of breath must’ve been audible. Fisher grimaced and ran his hand over his wet hair. “Sorry, I just got out of the shower. I wasn’t thinking. Gimme a sec, I’ll grab a shirt.”
“No,” I said a little too fast. I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, and it wasn’t like I hadn’t seen his muscled torso before. It was just that with my defenses down, it was hard not to get slapped in the face with how hot he was. Though my mouth was dry, I smiled in hopes he’d realize I wasn’t offended. “I like the view. It’d be a shame to cover it up.”
Fisher relaxed. He sat at a desk, the familiar sight of his couch in
the dim background. “You could always even the playing field by taking yours off.”
“Nah, I like leaving you wanting more.” Truth be told, I wasn’t ready for that yet. “What’s up? Everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine. I was just thinking of you when I was in the shower, so I decided to take a chance that you’d still be up.” His gaze roamed over me. “Except you weren’t, were you? You have pillow marks on your cheek.”
I touched them automatically, though my body was warming up to the idea that he’d been thinking about me when he’d been wet and soapy. “I wouldn’t have answered your text if it was a problem.”
“You look adorable half-awake.”
“Fully awake.”
“Still adorable.”
Resting my cheek on my pillow, I regarded him through heavy lids. “You called me in the middle of the night because of your overwhelming need to expound on my adorableness? How did I get so lucky?”
Fisher chuckled. “Remember that when you’re dragging your feet in the morning. I’d prefer to stay on your good side for at least another week.”
His specific time frame was both intriguing and alarming. “What happens in a week? Or is your work messing with Saturday?” I kept my fingers crossed it wasn’t the latter. It already felt like we’d been waiting forever and a day for date number two to get on the books. The longer it took to come, the more afraid I got that it would never happen at all.
“That’s why I’ve been thinking about you all night. What would you say if we had our second date in Los Angeles instead of online?”
I was struck dumb at his suggestion. In spite of being in the same state, Los Angeles had always felt like another world away, removed from everything I understood about how life worked. Add on the fact that I’d considered our virtual dating an insurmountable obstacle to ever getting to see him in the flesh, and I had no idea what to say.
“I know I’m springing this on you,” Fisher said when I didn’t speak up right away. “But that emergency tonight I told you about? Basically, it all boiled down to the reality that I was trying to problem-solve an issue long distance where it’s too easy to miss people who can actually make decisions. So I made a joke that maybe it would be better if I had boots on the ground in L.A. to get it done, and my boss surprised the hell out of me by saying, ‘Go for it.’”
“When are you going?” I managed to squeak out.
“I’m on a redeye Saturday night, so I can meet up with some vendors Sunday afternoon. I tried to book it for later, but that defeated the purpose of going.”
So the answer to my question was yes, work was messing with our scheduled date. The loss would’ve stung if Fisher hadn’t jumped to try and fix it. “You want me to come down to L.A. and meet up with you?”
“Can you?” he asked. “I know it’s short notice, and you’d have to find someone to cover for you at work if you’re on the schedule, but I’m really hoping we can make this happen. Even if it turns out you can only come for an afternoon and we sit at the airport for two hours because you have to turn around and get right back on a plane.” He leaned forward, his earnest features filling the screen. “Don’t we deserve to find out if what we’re feeling works in the real world, too? Not that our Chopped date wasn’t amazing, but I’m dying to see you face to face without a computer screen in the way. Aren’t you?”
Fisher already had to know the answer to that, though maybe he needed me to say it aloud. “Definitely.” That didn’t mean I wasn’t scared. I was suddenly terrified. Every fear I’d ever had about talking to guys in real life felt all too real again, images of how tongue-tied I got when the possibility of flirting presented itself flooding my head.
Fisher’s eyes softened. “I wish you saw yourself like I do.”
My cheeks felt like I’d set a match to them. “I guess I’m worried it’ll all fall apart.”
“Does it help to hear that I am, too?”
A little. “What if I sit there and just stare at you for two hours because I can’t think of anything to say?”
“Talking gets in the way of kissing anyway.”
I snorted. “It’s not that easy, you know. There’s a reason you were my very first date.”
“Look, I’d like to think we’re friends, too, am I right?” When I nodded, he smiled. “And if it turns out you’re not attracted to me in person, there’s nothing to say we can’t just hang out as friends instead of making it a date. It’s not that hard, Noah. Stop overanalyzing all of it, and think of it as another act of bravery. We both know you’re a pro at those.”
Hardly a pro, but he had a point. Dating Fisher had always seemed beyond my reach, and look at where we were now. All because I’d taken a risk. If I went down to L.A. and he changed his mind—because I had no idea what world he lived in that he believed for a second I would be the one to turn him down—getting to hang with him as friends was hardly a loss. Disappointing, sure, but let’s face it, my whole life had prepared me for it.
“What days are you looking at?” I asked.
“I fly back on Wednesday, but I’ll be free Monday and Tuesday evenings after I get done with work.”
“I’ll have to check my schedule at the hospital.”
“I know.”
“And flights.”
“Whatever it takes.”
“I’m not guaranteeing anything.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to, especially when I’ve sprung this on you in the middle of the night.”
“What if I can’t make it? Do I still get a second date?” I held my breath in fear of his response.
“Noah…” He reached for something out of view. When he sat back again, he had his phone in his hands, his fingers flying over the screen. “I’m sending you something. Hang on.”
I had to roll over to grab my phone from my nightstand. It vibrated as I picked it up. Image received from Fisher. I clicked it open.
It was a screenshot of a chat window between Fisher and some guy named Alden. From the look of it, Alden was thanking Fisher, to which Fisher’s response was, I get to see my guy. I should be the one thanking you.
“Does that look like I’m going to miss out on our second date?” Fisher asked. “I don’t care where it happens. Online, L.A., the moon…doesn’t matter. Our first date was too awesome to give up on us just because we might hit a speed bump getting to the second one. If we can’t make L.A. happen, we’ll get to it one way or another.”
Shame washed through me. I should’ve had more trust in Fisher. He’d been straight with me from the beginning, and I returned that by doubting him.
“I’m going to do everything I can to get there,” I said, hoping it would make up for my lack of faith.
Fisher set aside his phone to focus on me again. “It’ll happen.”
He sounded so sure. His optimism was infectious.
Chapter 8
“This shouldn’t be this hard!”
I was about ready to throw my laptop through the window. Finding a way to spend more than five minutes in Los Angeles was proving impossible. It didn’t matter what flight I looked at or on what day. None of the logistics were working in my favor.
It had started out so well, too. I’d gone into work early to check out how flexible the schedule could be and hit pay dirt when I found Marianne doing the same thing.
“David surprised me with tickets to see Wynonna Judd on Saturday,” she’d said. “I don’t suppose you’d switch your day off with me, would you? You can even have both of mine if you want.”
Both equated to Tuesday and Friday, and while Friday wouldn’t do me much good in regards to L.A., having Tuesday off could get me there, no problem.
I found out when I got home to start looking for flights that it wasn’t as easy as I’d hoped. My difficulties came in trying to get back in time to make my shift on Wednesday morning. I couldn’t get a flight to the closest airport to Coughlin because it was so tiny. I could get a flight to San Francisco, but it took six
hours to get home from the Bay Area, which would mean practically no sleep before I went into the hospital. I was good at my job, but I wasn’t arrogant enough to think I should do it after an all-nighter.
A knock came at my closed bedroom door. “You okay in there?” Mom called out.
“Fine!” I yelled back, then scowled at my screen. “Not fine,” I muttered under my breath.
“Dad asked for some ice cream. You want some?”
Drown my frustrations in sugar? Sounded great. It would come with a price, though, and I couldn’t handle Mom’s curiosity on top of everything else. “No thanks!”
“Sure? I brought home some moose tracks.”
“I’m sure, Mom!” I needed to fix this on my own. I was a grown man. Going out for ice cream would admit defeat.
Timing was my nemesis. Well, that, and being stuck miles away from anywhere so that getting to an airport took more time than the actual flight. If I was going to be stuck in a car, it was almost better to drive the whole way back from L.A. At least then I’d be able to get a few hours of sleep, even if I did lose my mind along the way.
If only L.A. was closer…
That’s when it hit me. Snatching up my phone, I rang Fisher’s number, not looking at the time until after it started to ring. Shit. I hope he wasn’t in the middle of last minute prep for his flight tomorrow.
“Hey,” Fisher said, too brightly for him to be annoyed.
“I’ve got a question for you.”
“Okay, what?”
“Is there any way you can fly out of San Francisco instead of Los Angeles on Wednesday?” I detailed the difficulties I was having trying to get flights to work out. “But if I don’t have to wait so long to get on the road, we could have three or four hours in San Francisco instead of not getting to meet up at all.”
“If you drive, what time could you get there on Tuesday?”
“As early as nine or ten, if I’m willing to go to bed early and leave at three in the morning. Why?”
