The Sweet Tooth

by Margot Larson

  “No,” Mathieu replied, “just nervous and inexperienced and a thief apparently.”

  Solomon laughed. It sounded so good to hear Mathieu's sense of humor even if it was from behind a closed door, “Hey now, you’ll never get a conviction. I’ll deny I confessed anything and it will be my word against yours. Although, I still have the camera so I guess I could get time for possession of a stolen item. I hope you don’t mind having a neighbor with a potential criminal record.” He listened to more of Mathieu’s sweet laughter quietly coming from the other side of the door. “Anyway, up until that point I didn’t think about the actual flights. There had been little to no turbulence on the two previous flights but not long after we left Hong Kong the plane dipped like it was going to fall out of the sky. The girl behind me started crying and somebody else started screaming that we were all going to die. Let me tell you, I thought that person was right. The stewardesses were trying to keep everyone calm and the plane dipped a little bit more and there was more screaming. The girl’s mother was shouting at her to stop crying. I wanted to tell the mother that there was plenty of reason to cry and she should just shut-up and comfort her daughter. I thought that I was going to die and I would never see my parents again and that this was God punishing me because I was selfish for wanting to go to university in England. At one particularly bad point those oxygen masks dropped from the overhead bins and I freaked because I hadn’t really watched the pre-flight instructions like you’re supposed too and I didn’t know what to do. The guy next to me helped me put mine on. He put his arm around me and kept saying that everything was going to be alright, you know, I never even got his name or thanked him for helping me. I regret that to this day. The pilot came on the intercom and told everyone that there was really no reason to panic and that we’d be out of the turbulence soon. It must’ve been another half hour or so before he came back on and said that we were out of the storm. Some people didn’t take their oxygen masks off, I was one of them. When the plane landed in London I saw some people actually kiss the ground, they were so thankful to be safe.”

  Mathieu listened to Solomon talk about his experiences and pictured the scared boy, alone and so far from home on this grand adventure that was going so horribly and his heart went out to him. But the thoughts that kept running through his mind about Solomon having a ‘normal’ friend or partner or whatever it was they were going to be wouldn’t leave him alone. Solomon would want to travel and there was no way he could go with him. Mathieu broke down and cried.

  “Mathieu, please, will you open the door to me?” Solomon pleaded when he heard the brunette sobbing.

  “I’m sorry. It’s for the best. You’ll realize that soon and you’ll be happy you didn’t get involved with me.” He rose up from the floor and took a few steps away.

  “I’m not going to give up, Mathieu. I wasn’t going to tell you because I don’t want you to think I’m just saying this to get to you but,” Solomon swallowed hard, “When I got your text on Sunday it felt like my heart was breaking. I know we’ve only known each other for a few days but I told you yesterday how I felt this connection to you and it’s true. I think I’ve fallen for you. Mathieu, please say something.” He could hear the younger man behind the door sobbing softly.

  “It’s not love you feel, it’s pity and I don’t need that. You don’t know me. Trust me, you’re better off without me.”

  “It’s not pity, Mathieu. I had the feelings before I saw your attack. I was instantly attracted to you when you surprised me outside your door last week; your beautiful smile, your golden eyes, your curly hair. Then I got to know you a little and was attracted to your sense of humor and your artistic talent and you know how I feel about your cooking. Trust me, you’re not only your condition, Mathieu, you’re much more than that. I wish you could see what I see. I think you’re lovely.”

  Mathieu was full on crying, “Don’t say that. You don’t know.”

  “Then tell me. Let me in.” Solomon begged, “Please.”

  “I can’t.” Mathieu ran into his bedroom and slammed the door.

  ***

  The next morning Solomon woke up achy with a stuffy nose and a slight fever. He still stopped by Mathieu’s door, said “good morning. I hope you have a good day. I should be home at the usual time. I’ll talk to you later.” But it sounded more like, “guhd mornick. I hobe you hab a guhd day. I shug be hum at duh usal dime. I’ll dalk do yuh lader. ”

  Work was hell as his fever climbed and the Stock Market fell making some of his clients go to pieces. He spent the morning reassuring them that everything would bounce back in a day or two and to just hold on until things turned back around. Most clients took his advice, some didn’t and demanded their money be put into more secure investments. Sometimes he really hated his clients. But at least his mind was off Mathieu for a while.

  That night when Solomon arrived at Mathieu’s door there was a glass container filled with hot, home-made, chicken noodle soup sitting on the floor with a hand-written note that read; ‘I hope you feel better soon. Mathieu.’ Solomon picked up the container and went into his flat. He put down the soup and his briefcase, took off his suit jacket, pocketed his keys, grabbed a spoon and a blanket and went back out to sit in front of Mathieu’s. He was even more optimistic despite Mathieu’s words the night before and he thought that what he’s saying is getting through to the Irishman.

  Solomon placed the soup container down on the floor with the spoon, wrapped himself in the blanket and dropped down to sit on the floor, “Thank you for the soup. I’m really….” Solomon thought, ‘what am I, hungry, happy, grateful, appreciative, sick as a dog?’ He was all of those things but none of them said how the soup was making him feel. He spooned up some of the broth and slurped it loudly, “mmm, this is so good! Thank you, Mathieu.” Even though he was congested he hoped that said everything he wanted to say and that Mathieu understood it. “I hope you can make out what I’m saying tonight. I think I may have the flu so it’s probably a good thing this door is between us though I’d give anything for it not to be. I’d hate myself if I made you sick too.” Solomon wanted nothing more than to be in Mathieu’s arms cuddled up on the brunette’s comfy sofa while eating soup and watching TV.

  Around bites of soup and with his nasal voice Solomon picked up his story, “yesterday I left off with arriving in London if I’m not mistaken. I collected my suitcase, I had a trunk that was shipped earlier, actually it was more like a cardboard box, and I was supposed to meet a representative from the student house I was staying at but somehow we missed each other or so he said. I think he just didn’t show up. Anyway, I waited at the airport for about an hour before I finally asked an airport guide how to get a bus to where I had to go. I had exchanged some money before leaving home so I was covered that way but I had no idea how to get around London. I had research bus and tube routes before leaving home but when I got here I was completely overwhelmed. Everyone was moving so quickly and everything looked so big. Do you know what I mean?”

  “Yes, I do.” Mathieu was sitting in his place on the other side of the door; he sounded small and sad.

  Solomon wanted to say that he was sorry Mathieu felt that way but he didn’t want the Irishman to think it was pity, like yesterday so he kept silent. “It took a while but I finally got to the student house and they let me into my room. My box had already arrived and was there which I was very thankful for. I put my suitcase down and flopped onto the bed. I think I slept for a whole day. I sure felt like that was what I needed. The next day my roommate showed up. He was from Scotland and I swear I didn’t understand a word the guy said. For two months when he talked to me I think I only ever smiled and nodded. I’m pretty sure he thought I was the dumbest person he’d ever met. I tried to spend most of my free time in the library just so I wouldn’t have to talk to him.” Solomon tried to imitate a Scottish accent and failed miserably but he had to smile when he heard Mathieu laughing. “I only had to avoid him for two months because
after that he left. I’m really not sure if he went back home or if he moved to another room that’s how badly I couldn’t understand him. We didn’t have any classes together either so I didn’t see him again. I was happy to have the room all to myself because around then I started to miss my family and, don’t tell this to anybody else, but I cried a lot. It was so hard being half a world away and I couldn’t call whenever I wanted too because of the time difference. I wrote my mom an email almost every day telling her how much I missed her and my dad and home. I told her about my classes and what I got to do around London.” Solomon abruptly sneezed and let out a low moan as his muscles ached and his head pounded. “Oops, I spilled some soup.” He heard Mathieu get up and a few seconds later a couple of napkins and some tissues were slipped under the door. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Solomon blew his nose in a tissue and dabbed at the spill on his blanket with the napkins, “I was sure I wasn’t going to do another term. I thought I was going to flunk out and my professors hated me. I realized that I wasn’t as smart as I thought I was. University was a lot harder than school back in New Zealand. And then I met Adrian. We had the same classes but I hadn’t spoken to him until one day he came up to me in the library and asked me if I could help him with some homework. I think I told you that he was from Wales.”

  “Yes.”

  Every time Mathieu spoke Solomon felt more and more optimistic, “I didn’t think his accent was as difficult to understand. We started hanging out more and more and even though it was against the rules he moved his stuff into my room. I think they let us get away with it because I was so far from home and they knew I was lonely. I don’t know if that’s true or not but I like to think it is. It felt so good to have a friend who was going through what I was going through. Even though his family was a train ride away he missed them as much as I missed mine. We helped each other with homework and reports. Don’t tell him because I’d never hear the end of it but I don’t think I would’ve stayed if it weren’t for him.” Solomon fell quiet as he thought about those days with Adrian.

  “Solomon?” Mathieu asked faintly.

  “I’m still here.”

  “Why?”

  Solomon could hear the emotion in Mathieu’s voice, “why what?”

  “Why are you still there?” Mathieu sniffled.

  “I told you. I’m not willing to give up on you. I will sit here every evening and talk until you realize that. I don’t care if it takes a week or a month or a year. I’m not going anywhere.” Solomon paused for Mathieu to argue with him but he was surprised by Mathieu’s silence and he resumed his story, “Anders is a few years older than us and we didn’t have any classes together. We bumped into him, literally, in a hallway one day. Adrian and I were going over a handout from a professor, not paying attention at all and bam!” He set the soup bowl down and smacked his hands together, “he went flying; Adrian and I fell on top of each other; the handout was ripped in half; all our books wound up scattered over the floor. I thought he was going to flip on us, he can be very intimidating, but you know what he did?”

  “What?” The Irishman’s voice was calm but curious.

  “He laughed. He took one look at us trying to get off each other and apologize at the same time and burst out laughing. He has this wonderful baritone voice and he was laughing like a wild man. Everyone was looking at us. Adrian’s face was bright red, I’m sure mine was too. I took one look at Adrian and he looked at me and we both looked at Anders and then we were laughing too. We’ve been friends ever since.”

  “Tell me more about him.”

  “He’s a nice looking guy, six foot tall, dark hair and blue eyes. When he’s angry you want to stay out of his way. He’s also one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. He didn’t live in the student housing; his parents have a house in London and after we met we were either at the library or at Anders’ house. Since he was ahead of us he could answer questions we had and were afraid to ask the professors because we didn’t want to look stupid. It’s so amazing to look back on those early days. We weren’t little kids but we felt like we were. Anders sort of took us under his wing and gave us a lot of insights into how to get on better with certain professors, what they expected and what they were looking for. But after he took that cooking class that summer he didn’t want to be in accounting anymore. I know you’re making that face again.” The blonde was relieved to hear more giggling, “He applied to Le Cordon Blue and he was accepted. I think I told you a little about him before.”

  “Yes. He’s living his dream.” Mathieu considered everything Solomon had told him about Anders, “You should be with him. He sounds really stable. Someone like that would be better for you than me.”

  “Mathieu,” Solomon sighed, “Anders is just a friend. Besides, he’s not into men. He was even married for a short time. His marriage failed because the wife ran off with the partner he had in his first restaurant venture. He received the divorce papers the same day he got the papers dissolving the partnership. Both happenings broke Anders’ heart. He’s dated some since but it’s hard for him since he’s at the restaurant almost 24-7-365. I think you’d like my friends we have a lot of really embarrassing stories about each other especially about Adrian. If you’re nice I’ll tell you the donkey story but don’t tell him I told you.”

  “I’m nice.”

  “You’re wonderful, Mathieu but the donkey story will have to wait. It’s a visual story and you wouldn’t get the full effect without seeing it.” The two men were silent for several minutes before Solomon remembered, “Oh, I emailed my mom last night about the photos. Remember?”

  “In the box under the bed.”

  “Yes. She found them and she’s expressing them to me. Do you think you could sign for them if they come when I’m not here? You don’t have too if you don’t want too. I can always arrange to pick them up.” Solomon crossed his fingers and closed his eyes.

  Mathieu thought for a minute before he replied, “Okay.”

  Solomon was outwardly calm as he replied, “thank you. You can just leave them outside my door.” but inside he was shouting ‘Yes!’ He pictured himself with the open box in his lap looking at photos, explaining what they were and then sliding them under Mathieu’s door so he could see them too. That wasn’t the way he wanted to show the photos to Mathieu but he’d do it if it would bring the Irishman back to him.

  “I think that’s all for tonight. I’m going to take something and go to bed. Thank you so much for the soup. I’ll wash out the container and leave it at your door in the morning. Good night Mathieu.”

  “Good night, Solomon. I hope you feel better in the morning.”

  ***

  Solomon woke with the alarm clock but he was sure he was dying. His head was pounding, his throat was tight, he couldn’t breathe and every muscle in his body ached. He called in sick to work, left another voice mail for Mathieu and crawled back under the covers.

  From the warm, comfort of his bed Mathieu heard his neighbor’s alarm go off and then some mumbled talking and then silence. No shower running to chase away sleep, no closet door shutting after the day’s suit was taken out, no floor creaking as the other man moved around the flat, nothing. He figured that the flu had gotten worse through the night and Solomon was going to take a sick day. The urge to bring the sick man more soup and to take care of him was overpowering. But the Irishman was so uncertain; torn between wanting Solomon in his life and trying to protect the other man from the mess his life was. All of his friends had turned away from him when he couldn’t just ‘get over it’ or ‘stop being so dramatic’ or ‘suck it up and be a man’ and he couldn’t, he wouldn’t go through that again. The feeling of not being understood or accepted was horrible. No matter how much he told himself that his fears were irrational or ridiculous it never helped. It only made him feel worse because he couldn’t just ‘get over it’. Solomon said he wasn’t like his past friends but the blonde didn’t know, he may hav
e suspected but he didn’t know what it was like. No amount of research on the internet compared to living with the problem every day, day after day after day after day for years. There were limits to how much people would put up with before they got fed up and left. But yet……Solomon was so nice, sounded so sincere and Mathieu thought for sure that the two could’ve been a lot more than friends. The fact that the blonde had done any research at all was amazing. Mathieu couldn’t remember any of his mates having done that. Solomon could’ve just bolted and left him lying on the floor after the attack he witnessed but he had stayed, held him, wiped his face with a towel and then helped him to bed. Even though Mathieu had texted him and told him to go away for his own good, he stayed. Could it be worth taking a chance on the handsome, intelligent, charming, funny blonde? His heart said ‘yes’ but his head said ‘no’.