by Alexa Land
“Well, Roz isn’t here to hold you back anymore. Please don’t take that the wrong way. I adored my best friend, and we both know she loved you with all her heart. But she kept you so sheltered, and now you have a chance to spread your wings and see what the world has to offer.”
“I like my life the way it is.” I could tell Glyn wanted to offer a rebuttal, but she just patted my arm and looked sympathetic.
Nancy dragged me over to the couch, then sat down with me and put her feet up on the coffee table. She was wearing a sweatshirt with a picture of her cat on it, along with a pair of jeans and fuzzy slippers, which made me think I’d overdressed for the occasion. Then again, Glyn was in a white, designer pantsuit and loads of gold jewelry, so it was tough to put my finger on the dress code. “Our Griffy’s a smart cookie,” Nancy said, as she linked her arm with mine. “He doesn’t need our advice. What he needs is a man, so who’ve we got to set him up with? I’m so disappointed that Keith is straight, otherwise I’d be matchmaking bigtime!”
I’d come out to Aunt Roz and her three best friends when I was fifteen, and they’d all been supportive. Roz had worried about me dating, but I was sure her reaction would have been the same, regardless of whether I was interested in girls or boys.
“Actually, I have a date tomorrow night,” I admitted, “so, no matchmaking is needed.”
Nancy pushed her red glasses up the bridge of her nose and exclaimed, “That’s fantastic! Who is he? Did you meet on one of those hook-up apps? And you know how to use condoms, right?”
“Hush now, Nancy,” Lil said, as she sat down beside me. “You’re not giving the boy a chance to talk!”
As Glyn took a seat across from us, I told them, “His name is Ari, and he works at that coffee house I always go to. I don’t know much about him, since we just met yesterday. But he’s kind, and gorgeous, and I’ll never forgive myself if I screw this up.”
“You won’t screw it up,” Lil said. “Just be yourself, and he’s gonna love you.”
Glyn asked gently, “Is this your first date, honey?”
“Not exactly. Remember when I signed up for that singles club around the time I turned twenty-one? I met a few guys for coffee or drinks through that, but nothing ever came of it. At least Ari already met me and knows I’m a mess, so that won’t come as a surprise to him. The part he doesn’t know is that I’m totally inexperienced. He’ll probably think that’s weird for a guy my age. I mean, I’m turning twenty-five in a couple of weeks. What’s he going to say when he finds out I’ve never even kissed a guy?”
“The right boy will understand,” Nancy said. “You can just explain that you had your hands full ever since you were a teen, what with your aunt’s arthritis and the fact that she never let strangers into her home. You had to be the cook, the maid, the gardener, and Roz’s personal assistant, so when were you supposed to find time to date?”
“It was more than that,” Glyn said. “He didn’t date because Roz didn’t want him to. Remember how nervous she was when he joined that perfectly harmless singles club he just mentioned? And he was an adult, for goodness sake! I’ll never understand why she felt she had to keep Griff so isolated.”
“Now, now,” Lil said, “let’s not speak ill of the dead.”
“I’m not,” Glyn insisted. “Roz meant well, but you know how she was. She acted like he needed to be protected from the whole world and everything in it.”
I tried to explain it away with, “It had to be tough for her, trying to figure out how to raise a child in this day and age. She definitely erred on the side of caution, but she did that out of love.”
“You were always so forgiving about her idiosyncrasies. I guess we all were, but you’re the one who had to live with it,” Lil said. “I’ll never understand why she decided to homeschool you when you were ten. You used to love going to school and seeing all your little friends.”
She’d had an excellent reason for making that decision. I just couldn’t tell them, or anyone else, what it was.
We spent the next three hours eating way too much, drinking even more, and sharing stories. Even though I’d heard them all a million times, I never got tired of hearing them again. My favorites were the ones Glynnis told about her and Roz in the 1950s. They’d met on the set of a lavish Hollywood musical when they were both twenty, and they hated each other at first. But by the end of the production, they’d become lifelong friends.
Glyn even had a few stories about my maternal grandmother, Valentina, who’d been Roz’s best friend from the time they were five years old. Valentina died several years before I was born, and I always wished I’d known her.
Toward the end of the evening, I stood up unsteadily and raised a glass of wine to the portrait. “To you, Aunt Roz. The world’s a little darker now that you’re gone, and I miss you so much. Just so you know, I’m learning to get by on my own, and I’m being careful, like you’d want me to. I’ll love you forever, and I’m so grateful for the time we had.”
That earned me a round of teary hugs from my aunts. Then Lil said, “You’ve had a lot to drink, kiddo. Why don’t you spend the night? I can ask Keith to make up the guest room.”
“Thanks for the offer, but could you call a taxi for me? I’ll come back for the car tomorrow. Right now, I just really want to go home and fall into bed, and I bet Figgy does, too. Where is he, anyway?”
While Lilian dialed a cab company, I looked around for my dog. Eventually, I found him sitting by the pool, lapping red wine out of a glass that someone had left on the ground. I exclaimed, “No, Fig! You’re going to be sick as a—well, you know.” Then I picked him up with an, “Oof.”
When the taxi arrived, I said goodnight to my family and tucked the dog under one arm. Nancy shoved a box of wine into my hands and winked at me as she said, “You should have some refreshments on hand, in case you want to invite your date back to your house tomorrow night.”
The driver was none too thrilled about the fact that I’d brought a dog into his cab. He kept glaring at me in the rearview mirror as we drove across town, even though I promised to hold Fig on my lap and keep him off the upholstery. When we were about fifteen minutes from home, the dog started dry-heaving. The cab came to a screeching halt, and the driver kicked us out on the spot.
I swayed on the sidewalk as the taxi drove off, and I muttered, “I told you not to drink that wine, Fig. Now look what happened.” The dog plopped his head onto my shoulder, and I hugged him and said, “Aw, poor guy. You probably don’t feel so great, huh? Me neither.”
I shifted the wine box’s carrying strap from one hand to the other and started walking. I was more than a little dizzy, and the uphill walk home was going to be such a bummer. After a minute, I turned a corner and saw that the coffee house was still open. Not that I wanted Ari to see me like this, but he’d be able to call another cab, and I’d do anything to avoid that steep walk home.
The coffee house was totally empty when I stepped through the door. Because my head was spinning, I decided I really needed to lie down, just for a minute. I climbed up onto the counter with my dog and the box of wine and rested my cheek on the cool, metal surface. It felt great, and I closed my eyes and exhaled slowly.
The door to the back room creaked on its hinges. A moment later, I heard Ari chuckle, and then he asked, “Are you okay?”
“No. I hardly ever drink, but tonight I thought eh, what’s the harm? I love my aunts, but my God, can they ever pack away the liquor. We were on our way home, but then Fig almost threw up his wine, so the cab driver kicked us out.” I looked up at Ari, and then I smiled at him and mumbled, “You look pretty.”
Oh man, did I really say that? Apparently, I was a lot tipsier than I’d realized. And yeah, the fact that I’d crawled onto the counter probably should have been my first clue.
He grinned at me and said, “Thank you. I was just about to lock up. Do you want to move to the sofa, or are you happy on the counter?”
I considered that for a moment, then admitted,
“I don’t feel qualified to make that decision.”
He picked up my dog and told me, “I’ll be back in a minute. Don’t fall off, okay?”
“I won’t. I promise.” Fig wagged his short, curled tail as he snuggled against Ari, and I murmured, “Just so you know, I didn’t mean to get my dog drunk. He started drinking wine when I wasn’t looking. I don’t want you to think I’m an unfit dog father.”
Ari put Fig on an upholstered chair, brought him a cup of water, and held it for him while the dog lapped it up. After that, he locked the door and turned off some of the lights. Then he returned to my side and held out his hand. “Come on, Griffin, let’s move you to the couch. You’ll be more comfortable.”
I let him lead me to the back of the coffee house as I asked, “Could you please call us a taxi? I just can’t face the walk home.”
“Why don’t you and Fig come with me and sleep it off at my house, instead of taking your chances with another cab?”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“But you barely know me.”
He smiled and said, “So, let’s change that.”
“Okie dokie.” As soon as those words were out of my mouth, I cringed.
Once I’d dropped onto the sofa, he said, “I need to do a few more things before I can clock out, but I won’t be long.” I tried to will myself to sober up while Ari got to work.
Maybe ten minutes later, he handed me the wine and a cup as he said, “I thought you might like some coffee.” He was nice enough not to ask why I was carrying a wine box like a purse.
I thanked him and took a sip of what turned out to be a perfect latte. When he picked up Fig, I said, “I can carry him if you want. He weighs a ton.”
“It’s okay, I’ve got him.” I followed Ari out the door, and as he locked up behind us, I turned my face toward the warm breeze. Even though it was early September, it still felt like summer.
Using the alley shortcut, it was less than a five-minute walk to his home. When we stepped inside the warehouse, he said, “The overhead lights don’t work, so stay close and I’ll guide you. I don’t have a couch or chairs in here either, so I’m taking you to my bed.”
I was glad it was dark so he couldn’t see my wide-eyed expression, but I got a grip as I followed him. This wasn’t a porno movie, and he clearly didn’t intend for me to read anything into that.
After a few seconds, he said, “Hang on a minute.”
There was a soft rustle of fabric. A moment later, he turned on a light, and I murmured, “Oh wow.”
A king-size mattress was heaped with pillows and blankets in white and pale blue, and it sat on wooden pallets near a corner of the warehouse. Surrounding it was a tall, wooden frame supporting a canopy and four ‘walls’ made of layers of sheer, white linen. With a light on inside it, the whole thing glowed like a huge paper lantern.
Fig circled three times and curled up on the foot of the bed. Meanwhile, I pushed the sheer curtains aside, then perched awkwardly on the edge of the mattress and told Ari, “This is beautiful.”
“Thanks. It’s hard to make a warehouse feel cozy, but the canopy helps.” He slipped off his sneakers as he asked, “Would you like me to find you a T-shirt or something? I just sleep in briefs, but I want you to feel comfortable.”
I stammered, “Oh. Um, I don’t need anything. I usually sleep in my underwear, too.” Ugh, that was a mistake. I’d been so flustered by the idea of seeing Ari half-naked that I wasn’t thinking clearly. I definitely should have said yes to the T-shirt.
“Okay. I’m going to brush my teeth. See you in a minute.”
While he was gone, I stripped down to just my underwear and sighed when I remembered what I’d put on that morning. Since I desperately needed to do laundry, I was wearing a red and green pair of boxers that Nancy had given me a few years ago as a gag gift. They featured frolicking elves and said ‘Santa’s little helper’ on the back. Well, how was I supposed to know the day would end in the bed of a gorgeous man?
I pulled the covers to my waist and looked around me. There were stacks and stacks of books at the head of the bed, mostly nonfiction and covering a broad range of subjects, including philosophy, psychology, science, and art, among other things. It made me wonder if Ari was a college student.
When he returned, I was sitting up in bed, leafing through a book on painters of the Italian renaissance and drinking my coffee. I glanced up at him, and my breath caught. He was achingly beautiful in nothing but a pair of pale blue briefs. His body was delicate and graceful, and his skin was smooth and luminous.
Okay, so I was totally, one hundred percent staring at him. Fortunately, my awkwardness never really seemed to phase him. He sat down right beside me, so close that our arms touched, and took a look at the color reproduction in the book on my lap. Then he lightly traced it with a fingertip as he murmured, “I love this particular da Vinci. It’s called Saint Jerome in the Desert, and it’s both heartbreaking and powerful, don’t you think?”
The unfinished painting of a haggard old man sitting before a lion in a cave was just as he’d described. But all I could think about right then was Ari and the warmth of his body as he leaned against me.
When I turned to look at him, his face was just inches from mine, and he gave me the sweetest, most genuine smile. Even though I wanted to kiss him more than anything, I held back. Call me old-fashioned, but my first kiss was a big deal to me, and when it finally happened, I wanted it to be perfect. At that moment, it was too soon, and I was still a bit drunk.
I cleared my throat, then took a sip of coffee before asking, “Are you in college?”
He shook his head. “I just study whatever interests me. What about you?”
“College wasn’t really an option. My aunt ended up with debilitating arthritis the last few years of her life, so I wanted to be there to take care of her.”
“That was nice of you.”
“I was glad I could help, especially after all she did for me while I was growing up.” I set aside the cup and book, and we both stretched out on our sides, facing each other. After a moment, I asked, “Do you have family here in L.A.?”
“No. I came to California by myself.”
“That seems brave, especially to someone like me. Most of my life has been spent in a twenty-mile radius of the house I grew up in.”
He said, “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to stick close to home.”
“I guess so.” I shifted a bit and propped my head up with my hand. “How often do you go home to visit?”
“Never.” A cloud passed over his features, and he muttered, “I’m not welcome there anymore.”
I assumed he meant he’d been disowned because he was gay. It seemed insensitive to ask for details, so I just left it at, “I’m sorry. That must have been difficult.”
“It was, at first. I was lonely, and this place was a big adjustment. But over time, it got easier.”
“Can I ask how old you are?”
His smile returned, and he asked, “What’s your guess?”
It would have been easy to say twenty, because he definitely looked young. But there was something in his eyes that told me they’d seen a lot, so I dialed it up a few years and said, “Twenty-four?”
His grin got wider. “Good guess. Everyone always assumes I’m younger than I really am.”
“I can see why. Ten years from now, you’ll probably still be getting carded.”
“I think you’re right.”
“I’m the same age,” I said, “but I’m turning twenty-five in a little over two weeks.”
“Well, we’ll definitely have to celebrate.”
I wanted to dance and fist-pump, because that meant he planned to still be around in a couple of weeks. But I kept it together and asked, “So, what do you do for fun?” Okay, so I kind of sucked at making conversation, but I was trying.
“I paint. I’ll show you when the sun comes up.”
“That’s awesome.
What made you decide to become a painter?”
He considered the question before saying, “There was a lot I needed to deal with, and painting was a way to work through it.”
“I get it. My writing is like that, too. In fact, it’s practically therapy. I may not be producing something that anyone would ever want to read, but that’s okay, because it does so much for me.”
“Like what?”
“It lets me escape to a different world, and through my characters, I get to experience things I can only dream of, like traveling, and doing important things with my life, and falling in love…” Oh my God, stop talking! I was clearly still a bit drunk and definitely oversharing.
Ari touched my cheek as he said, “I’d love to read your novel.”
“It’s such a mess. I don’t even think it’s legible. So much of it is crossed out, annotated, and just a jumble.”
“Well, maybe you can read it to me, then. Even just a scene or two.”
I wanted to argue that none of it was ready or good enough, but he was so sincere, and his interest seemed so genuine that I found myself saying, “Okay.”
The smile that earned me was everything.
Chapter Three
When I woke up the next morning, I wasn’t sure where I was at first. All around me, sunlight filtered through layers of sheer, white curtains, which swayed in a warm breeze. It almost felt like I was floating.
But then, I remembered I was in Ari’s bed, and I grinned happily. Even though I’d been a bit tipsy, it had been a wonderful night, and we’d stayed up talking for hours. At one point, he’d encouraged me to tell him about the book I was writing, and that had really helped some of my rough ideas take shape. He was sweet and patient and acted like it was fascinating. I just hoped he hadn’t secretly been bored out of his mind.
I sat up and blinked a few times, then realized I’d fallen asleep while wearing my contacts. After I pulled my glasses from the inside pocket of my suit jacket, I rolled out of bed and went in search of the bathroom. I kept my head down and practically ran to my destination, because I knew I had to be all kinds of disgusting right then, and I really hoped Ari didn’t intercept me.
