by Vivien Dean
“Let me call you back. I’m going to check some things out.”
He hung up before I could say anything more, leaving me twiddling my thumbs, anxious to have an answer one way or another.
I jumped when another knock came at my door.
“We’re going to watch a movie,” Mom said on the other side. “Why don’t you come out and watch it with us?”
Never before had I wished that I lived somewhere else as much as I did now. Bolting from my chair, I went over to my door, yanked it open, and snapped, “Can I just be left alone tonight? Please?”
She paled at my harsh tone and took a step back. Her mouth opened to say something, then shut again as she steeled against my peevishness. “You know where to find us if you change your mind,” she ultimately said and whirled on her heel to march out of view down the hall.
I shut the door harder than I intended. Halfway to my bed, it opened again.
Dad loomed on the threshold. He jabbed a thick finger right at me. If he’d been in touching distance, it would’ve gone straight into my sternum and hurt like a bitch. “I did not raise you to speak to your mother that way.”
In the back of my mind, I knew he was right, but I was still too irritated to react well. “She kept interrupting. I told her I was fine.”
“Then that’s what you say. Not any of this snotty-nose shit that make you sound like you’re fourteen.” He scowled. “What’s got into you today?”
I turned my back on him before he could read too much in my face. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”
“So much it kicked all the good manners out of your head to make room for ‘em? Get out there and apologize.”
He wasn’t going to leave before I did as he said, so I scooped up my phone and shoved it in my pocket to follow him out to the living room. “Sorry, Mom,” I said as soon as I saw her. She sat in her chair, her lap buried beneath the baby afghan she was knitting for Seth and Lisa. When she wouldn’t even look up at me when I entered, I felt even guiltier. “I’m waiting on a call that’s got me all distracted. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
She shrugged, though her shoulders seemed to relax a little. “Was that why you were so quiet during dinner?”
“Yeah.” I didn’t want to go into details until I knew for sure what was happening. “If I get it sorted, I’ll come out, okay?”
Another shrug without meeting my eyes. Dad jerked his head toward my room, giving me permission to leave.
My phone rang as I reached my door, but I waited until I’d slipped inside to answer. “Well?”
“How would you like to have more than a couple hours in San Francisco with me?”
I grinned. Fisher sounded all kinds of pleased with himself. “So it works?”
“I moved my Tuesday afternoon meeting to breakfast, so I can be on a plane to San Francisco before noon. That’ll get me in around one.”
“And if I pick you up at the airport, we’ll have even more time.” It was happening. Somehow, some way, it was actually happening. I couldn’t sit down with all the excitement now coursing through me and paced back and forth from my door to the desk and back again. “Have you ever been to San Francisco? What do you want to do?”
“Nope, never been. Since this is my date to arrange, I’ll google to see what looks good. Any phobias or allergies I need to worry about?”
I laughed. “Nothing that should get in the way of our date.”
“Oooh, now I’m curious.”
“I’ve been creeped out by toads and frogs ever since high school biology and my lab partner thought it would be funny to put extra frog parts in my backpack for me to find later.”
“Yuck. Did you at least kick his ass afterward?”
“Do I really strike you as the kind of guy who’d do that?” Not to mention, my lab partner had been a girl named Sheila who would’ve turned anything I did around to make me look like I was harassing her instead. “Just remember that I have to get back on the road by seven or eight so I can grab a few hours of sleep here before I go into work, okay?”
“And sleeping here would be out of the question?”
The hope in his query sounded like the little voice in the back of my head that was begging me to blow off work completely, but as much as I wanted to cater to both of them, I knew the guilt would come back to bite me. “If things go as good as I want them to, I’m not sure either one of us would actually get any sleep,” I countered. “And unlike you, I can’t take a nap on my trip home to make up for it.”
“Damn. Well, can’t fault me for trying.”
No, in fact, he got major points for bringing it up in the first place. “Send me your flight details once you’ve made the change. I’ll pick you up.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“A good plan.”
“An excellent plan.” I could hear his smile. “G’night.”
I hung up, but my euphoria at what was to come was dampened when I remembered Mom’s reaction to my apology. Now that my tension was gone, it was easy to admit I’d been a jerk to her for no good reason. She hadn’t done anything differently tonight than she had on other Friday nights when I was stuck at home in my room instead of out with friends. While I wasn’t ready to tell them the extent of how much things had changed, I was more than capable of treating them with the respect they deserved.
Muting my phone, I went back out to the living room and found them watching some rom-com with Sandra Bullock, though neither one of my parents seemed to be paying attention to the TV. Dad had pulled the coffee table in front of his chair to work on some engine piece he had dismantled, while Mom was still focused on the afghan.
“That’s going to look really nice when it’s done,” I said, hovering at her shoulder.
She stopped knitting and smoothed out a finished section over her leg to better show off the pattern. White sailboats floated on a blue and pink background. “It’s not too bad,” she agreed.
“Is the pink in case it’s a girl?”
“No, because it’s pretty with the blue and the white.”
“Seth’ll complain if it turns out to be a boy.”
She harrumphed and picked up her needles again. “That’s Seth’s problem, then.”
I grinned, not because I liked the idea of my older brother having to deal with his old-fashioned ideas on gender roles—though I did—but because I loved Mom’s no-nonsense attitude on the subject when it came to this baby. When she’d picked out the pattern, I’d mentioned the potential problem of the boat motif if Seth’s prayers for a son weren’t answered. Her response had been to sniff and point out that he’d married a woman who would live on a boat given the choice, so if anyone should be worried about his reaction to it, it should be his wife.
“Did you get the call you were waiting for?” Mom asked carefully as I curled up in the corner of the couch closest to her La-Z-Boy.
I took a deep breath. If I showed any nerves, they’d both pick up on it and ask questions I wasn’t prepared to answer. “Yes. I need to talk to you about it.”
For the first time since she’d knocked on my door, she glanced in my direction. A tiny line appeared between her eyebrows. “Is something wrong?”
“No, no, everything’s fine,” I was swift to assure. “It was just a friend.”
“Dez?”
“No, someone else.” I couldn’t use her as a cover without talking to her first. “His name’s Fisher.”
Her frown deepened. “Is that someone you know from work?”
His name was too unusual for me to say yes. If she was so inclined, she’d be able to check on that and find out I was lying before any of us went to bed tonight. This required a different kind of lie.
“I met him through Dez.” Which was a huge stretch of the truth. Dez’s bleach job had been the impetus for us to start talking regularly. “He was hoping we could hang out when he’s in San Francisco next week since he doesn’t know anybody there.”
“And he asked you?�
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“We’ve been talking a lot,” I said in response to the question she really meant, the classic Mom-worry why would you accept a near stranger’s invitation. “We just really hit it off, and he knows how boring it is up here so he thought it would be a great way for both of us to have some fun.”
She looked unconvinced. “Why’s he in San Francisco?”
“Work. He’s in public relations.”
“Which means he knows how to sell shit,” Dad muttered.
“It’s not like that,” I argued. “He didn’t even start out in PR. He used to be a firefighter.”
“Used to?”
I was bordering on telling too much, but Mom had better odds playing the lottery than I had that either one of my parents would do a Google search on ex-firefighters and find the whole story. “He got hurt a few years ago, so he was forced to quit. That’s another reason he’d rather not do the city all by himself. I’ll have the car to drive him around so he doesn’t have to walk everywhere.”
Part of me was ashamed for using Fisher’s accident to paint him in a weaker light, but if Mom thought I was being a Good Samaritan, she’d accept my absence a lot more easily. It was the act of a coward, not the bravery Fisher seemed to think I possessed in spades, but he would never find out if I had anything to say about it.
“That’s a long drive,” Mom said. “Do you have the time off?”
My heart raced. She was easing back. “Just the one day. I’ll leave extra early and come back that night.” Because I knew how rushed that sounded, especially for someone I’d supposedly never met before, I added, “I’m excited about seeing the city. I know it’s only a few hours, but like you said, I never really get to go anywhere. A little break is better than no break at all, right?”
Dad half-snorted in amusement. We both knew I’d just won by throwing Mom’s desire for me to have a vacation into the mix. In reality, all three of us understood they couldn’t really forbid me to do anything. I was a grown man. I contributed financially to the household. The worst that would happen is we’d all fight about this for months to come and add unnecessary tension to the family.
None of us really wanted that, though. Mom liked her routine, and I wanted to make my parents happy. It was best all around if this was seen as acceptable by all parties involved.
God forbid they ever found out the whole truth about why I was going. But I’d cross that bridge if I ever got to it.
“Make sure Dad takes a look at your car before you go.” As she resumed knitting, her needles clicked together, putting the final punctuation onto the discussion. “The last thing you need is to break down halfway there.”
I tried to hide my smile as I agreed to the maintenance. My good mood still soared when Dad demanded I come to the station after work the next couple days to go over some basic car mechanics. Getting grease under my nails was a small price to pay for what was to come. Hell, I’d sit through a month of Dad’s lectures on catalytic converters to go—though Fisher would probably laugh his ass off at that because even though I’d grown up in a house where working on cars was practically a family requirement, I had no clue what a catalytic converter was supposed to do. Or where it was. Or what it looked like.
But if it was the only thing standing in my way of Fisher and San Francisco, I’d turn into the world’s leading expert if I had to.
Fisher was worth it.
Chapter 9
Saying Dez knew Fisher created one, very specific problem.
I had to tell her everything.
At ten o’clock on Saturday night, we sat in my car in the McDonald’s parking lot, surrounded by the smells of oil from my time spent at the station after my shift, vinegar from the extra pickles she’d ordered on her Big Mac, and the large black coffee I was sipping to try and stay awake. When I’d texted her this morning and asked to hang out tonight, she’d jumped at the chance.
Am I finally going to get the deets on your big date last week?
All the PG-rated ones.
And more since I’d added her into the mix. I knew this locale was not what she’d been expecting, though. But where else could I confess? I didn’t want to risk being overheard, so both our homes were out. So was anyplace public. This way, at least she got some food out of the deal.
“Time to quit stalling.” Twisting sideways, she leaned against the car door to face me, sipping at her vanilla shake. “Deets. Now.”
My throat was too dry, in spite of the large Diet Coke I’d just downed. I was doing this. I was telling someone, live and in person, that I was gay. No more stalling. No more excuses.
Except her direct gaze erased the script I’d memorized. The best I could manage was to fumble for my phone, pull up the blog to find a headshot, and thrust it toward her. “That’s Fisher.”
She leaned forward and grinned. “Nice ass.”
Startled, I yanked the phone back. Shit. I’d accidentally touched the screen when I turned it around and switched to the main page where his most recent photo was posted.
“Sorry about that,” I mumbled. This was not going well. At all. Why did I ever think I could do this? And if I couldn’t tell Dez, I had to be deluding myself that I’d actually drive all the way to San Francisco to meet someone.
Not someone. Fisher.
I could do this.
I took a deep breath.
“Fisher is who I sent the picture you took of my hair to. He lives in Florida.”
“Oh.” Her brows pulled together into a frown. “I thought this was about your date.”
“It is.” Apparently, I’d been wrong that Dez had figured it out. She’d been expecting someone else. Here went nothing. “It was with him.”
Dez didn’t blink. “How? I talked to you that afternoon. Is he in town for a while?”
“It was a virtual date,” I explained, but my brain was tripping over what she’d said. Her confusion stemmed from his location, not his gender. She’d taken that in without a single flinch. “You’re not surprised it’s a guy?”
“Considering I’m pansexual, I’d be a pretty big hypocrite if I started judging anyone else on who they’re dating. Trust me. Hypocrisy is not my jam.”
“But I’m not out.”
“I figured that. But so? You like guys. Big whoop. Is he into you?”
I thought back to all the strings we’d had to rearrange to meet in person and felt the familiar glow return to the pit of my stomach. “Yeah.”
“Then that’s all that matters. Now come on, I’ve been waiting forever to hear what happened. Gimme something to make this backwater berg more interesting.”
So I told her. Everything. Starting with how I’d found the blog all the way through our first chats and how the date had gone. She laughed at the funny bits, listened to the good parts, and grilled me when I tried to skim over anything embarrassing. By the time I was done, I felt empty, but in the best way possible, like all the fears that had been festering inside me had been temporarily scooped out and replaced with air.
“I told you you were hot,” she announced when I was done. “You should’ve believed me.”
I laughed. “That might be the best ‘I told you so’ anyone’s ever said to me.”
“So what’s next? I’m assuming date dos is in the planning stage.”
“Yes.” Now came the tricky part. “He’s currently on a plane to L.A. for work stuff, but when he’s done, he’s flying up to San Francisco. I’m going to drive down on Tuesday so we can meet up for a few hours.”
Her eyes brightened. “This is a flesh and blood date? Fantastic!”
I flushed. “I think so, too.”
“If you’re not out, how’d you explain to your parental units about the road trip?”
“I…kind of told them Fisher was just a friend, but that I’d met him through you. Which isn’t a huge leap,” I rushed to add when she immediately frowned again. “You dyed my hair. You’re the one who gave me the nerve to send it to him. I wouldn’t be going if it wasn’t
for you.”
“Doubtful,” she said. “I might’ve been the match, but the fuel was all you. All right. What time are we leaving? I need to tell Grandma so she doesn’t call me in as a missing person when I’m not there for supper.”
Maybe she’d misunderstood. “You don’t need to go to sell the story. Mom and Dad believed me.”
“Still going.”
I knew she was bored in town, but this was taking it a step too far. “It’s my date.”
“And you’re my friend. Look. This is how I see it. I’m sure Fisher’s a great guy, but the fact is, you two haven’t met in person. Anything could happen, and I’d be a pretty sucky friend if I let you walk into a situation that you weren’t completely sure about.” She held up her hand as I opened my mouth to protest. “No buts. If you were going to a bar to meet him in person for the first time, I’d be making the same demand. You need back-up. You don’t know anyone else in San Francisco, and your folks know jack about who you’re meeting or where you’re going to be. What if something happened? It doesn’t even have to be about Fisher. That’s a long-ass drive to San Francisco. You could get into a car accident and nobody would be the wiser. The smart move is to take someone along, and since I’m both the only one who knows the whole story, and apparently the only reason you’re even going, that someone has to be me.”
She had a point. A lot of them, actually. My experience with dating was exactly one night, so if Dez said friends watched each other’s backs like that, I had to take her word for it. Plus, it was a long drive. She’d make the time go faster. She’d help me stay awake for the trip back, too, as well as provide a sounding board to dissect everything that happened.
“Fine,” I said. “You win.”
She shot me a brilliant smile. “Of course, I do. So what time do we hit the road, Jack?”
* * * *
Adding Dez in the mix made the whole lie about her involvement easier to live with. Nobody questioned her presence at the house when she stopped by to get Dad’s impromptu car maintenance lecture. Janet cornered me in the break room and thanked me for keeping Dez in a good mood. Even Fisher expressed approval about her addition when I told him on Sunday night.
