by Chase Connor
Lucas was rushing around the kitchen, turning off burners, looking here and there frantically, then he opened the oven door. Smoke billowed out, black and miasmic, smelling like something had died a painful death within its confines. I couldn’t help but laugh, which didn’t help Lucas’ anxiety levels. He just fanned at the smoke and blew at it, trying to clear it away. Quickly, I located a couple of potholders and joined him at the oven. I reached in and grabbed the pan of…I didn’t know what…and lifted it out.
“Get the door.” I laughed at him.
Lucas rushed to the front door and swung it wide. I dashed out, carrying the pan with me. I quickly set it near the edge of the porch and joined him back at the door. Then we went about airing the smoke out of the house and out the front door of the house. When we finally shut the door, the smell lingered, but the smoke was gone. Everything on the stovetop was half-cooked or over cooked—and I didn’t know what any of it was. I don’t think Lucas knew either, but it was absolutely endearing that he had tried.
“I really am a good cook.” He shook his head as we stood side-by-side in front of the oven, surveying the damage.
“I believe you.” I grinned widely.
“Where…where’s Mrs. Wagner?” He suddenly realized that she had not entered the house with me.
“She said she had other things to do.” I shrugged. “I figured she would have texted you to let you know.”
“She didn’t.” He still looked frantic. “But okay.”
“You’re a vegetarian, right?” I asked simply.
He nodded.
“Do you eat cheese?”
“Well, yes.” He replied.
I went over to the paper bag that I had carried in with me. Reaching deep within the confines of the bag, I pulled out a large wheel of brie and a box of crackers, a can of cashews, a tub of seedless red grapes, and a small tub of figs. Lucas’ eyes lit up with each item that I retrieved.
“This was supposed to be a host gift—but it can easily be dinner, too.” I gestured dramatically over all of the containers set upon the countertop.
“That’s…this was really nice of you.” He smiled sheepishly.
“Eh.” I shrugged as I slid onto a barstool across the counter from him. “I don’t even know what was in that pan.” I teased. “At least this stuff is identifiable.”
“Veggie lasagna.” He cringed.
I reached into the bag and pulled out the bunch of carrots and held them towards him like they were a bunch of flowers.
“For the host.” I smiled goofily.
He gave a weird grin and took the carrots from me.
“Flowers for a host who is a vegetarian.” I laughed.
Lucas looked at the bunch of carrots in his hand.
“I know, that’s…kinda weird.” I chuckled nervously. “I just…I thought it was funny when I grabbed them.”
“Yes…I mean—no.” He shook his head. “I mean, yeah, it’s funny. It’s not weird at all. I get it.”
“Good.” I nodded.
Lucas looked over at me, holding the carrots.
“So…if you have a knife and a couple of plates, we can chow down on our little countertop picnic?” I suggested.
“Oh, yeah, of course.” He shook his head with a laugh.
Lucas put the carrots in the vegetable crisper in the fridge and then went about grabbing plates, napkins, a couple of forks and knives. He looked slightly less frantic the more he adjusted to the fact that dinner was going to be okay. He gathered up the dinner accoutrements from various drawers and cabinets, holding them all in his arms, and turned to me.
“I’m sorry.” He seemed to suddenly deflate. “Usually, I’m not like this, it’s just that, well, you’re…”
“It’s okay.” I smiled. “I totally understand.”
“You do?” His whole body seemed to sigh in relief as he set everything down on the counter.
“Yeah. I mean, the first time I met Jack Nicholson…well, we haven’t talked since unless it was in a professional capacity.” I laughed. “I think he still thinks I need to be sedated.”
“Oh, yeah.” Lucas smiled. “You’ve met celebrities, too.”
I shrugged.
“What would you like to drink?” Lucas pulled himself together.
“Water’s fine.”
“I have some Riesling if you want?” He asked.
“Oma said you didn’t drink.”
He shrugged. “I drink a beer or a glass of wine every now and then. But, it’s always by myself. I don’t enjoy social drinking. But with dinner—well, that’s okay.”
“Riesling then.” I nodded.
“I don’t really know if Riesling is appropriate for everything you’ve brought…” Lucas began as he reached into the fridge.
“I think any wine you like goes with anything you like.” I said. “I don’t care about wine pairings, personally.”
“Do you drink a lot?” Lucas asked as he turned around with the bottle.
I laughed.
“Is that a yes?” He cocked an eyebrow as he pulled up a stool across from me and began to uncork the wine. “Mrs. Wagner said you’ve been having problems.”
I rolled my eyes. “I rarely ever drink.”
“Drugs?” The cork was extracted with a wet pop.
“I’ve dabbled…but nothing serious.” I said. “Not that I’m trying to minimize any bad choices, I’ve tried a few things…a few times…but I’ve never had a drug problem. I haven’t done drugs in a long time.”
“Then…what problems was she referring to?” Lucas asked as he fetched two glasses and poured us each a healthy amount. “I mean, if that’s not too personal?”
“We can fast track this friendship if you want.” I shrugged.
He stared at me.
“Um, well, I think Oma was convinced that I was on drugs when I first arrived, mostly just because of how exhausted I was and how skinny I got.” I explained, bringing my glass to my lips. Crisp and fruity. It made me happy. “But, she was probably talking about personal issues that you don’t want to hear about.”
Lucas took a sip of his wine and popped a grape in his mouth.
“I have nothing else going on right now.” He gave a crooked smile.
“It’s just boring relationship stuff—or lack thereof—that you don’t want to hear about.” I waved him off with a laugh as I began unwrapping the brie.
Lucas followed my lead and began opening the box of crackers.
“I mean,” I shrugged, “Oma is just worried that I don’t have any love in my life—and she’s not wrong—but I’ve been kind of happy, or at least, content, with being by myself. Sometimes it’s necessary to stick to yourself. Especially if you don’t really trust anyone or find anyone who fits the position. You know what I mean?”
“Absolutely.”
“I’ve tried dating, and early in my career, it wasn’t too bad.” I laid the brie between us and offered the knife to Lucas. He took it and cut us each a generous slice. “But as I got a little more recognizable…”
“Famous?” He smiled.
“Yeah.” I relented. “It just became apparent that some guys were trying to just hook up to say they had sex with me or date me to further their careers—or just because they could say they did. So…I don’t really date at all.”
“Well, casual sex isn’t necessarily a bad thing I guess.” He stated neutrally.
I laughed loudly.
“What?” Lucas looked at me blandly.
“There’s not a casual damn thing about me.” I laughed.
“You’re not into one-night stands then?” He smiled widely.
“No.” I shook my head as I peeled the rind off of my cheese, Lucas followed my lead. “I haven’t had sex in so long that I think I’ve forgotten how to do it, honestly.”
Lucas had just taken a bite of his cheese and cracker and almost choked in laughter.
I shrugged. “I’m sure you’re killing it with the ladies…I just, I don’
t know, I guess people presume things because I’m a gay man and they have ideas about gay culture, but things aren’t always the way people think that they are, ya’ know?”
“Yeah.” He nodded, taking another bite of his cracker thoughtfully. “I definitely understand.”
“Maybe that’ll change.” I sighed.
“Yeah.” He smiled. “Maybe.”
He popped the rest of his cracker and cheese in his mouth. And we both took another big drink of our wine.
“So…why no wife and kids?” I started slicing us more cheese. “You’ve got the house. You seem to be doing well with work. I love your house, by the way. When are you going to start being a true Ohioan male and knock a gal up and settle down?”
He blushed. “Thank you. About the house and work stuff, I mean.”
“You’re welcome.” I smiled and dropped a couple of slices of brie on his plate for him.
“Your house is probably a lot, um, nicer.”
“I don’t have a house.” I said simply. “But don’t avoid the question.”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged and started de-rinding his cheese. “It’s kind of complicated.”
“Isn’t it always?”
He chuckled.
“I got a feeling the other morning that Jill wouldn’t be averse to sliding under the sheets with you.” I teased.
He blushed again.
Nah.” He shook his head and took a sip of his wine. “She’s a really good friend, that’s all.”
“Well, darn.” I sighed. “I was hoping I could be Oma and play matchmaker.”
He looked up at me and frowned.
“What? Did she…”
“She’s trying.” I waved him off. “I promised her I’d go out on a date.”
“How’s that going?” He grinned.
“Not too bad.” I shrugged. “I’m going on one tomorrow night. The first in probably two years, actually.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” I nodded with a roll of my eyes. “She’s absolutely thrilled.”
“I bet.”
“Maybe she can set you up?” I grabbed a fig. “I mean, it’ll probably be horrible, but maybe it’ll kill your dry spell. Not that I’m implying that you don’t have game or anything…”
He laughed.
“Nah. That’s pretty accurate.” He agreed.
“Well, why not ask her?” I said, giddy from the wine. “I’m sure she knows every damn single woman in a twenty-mile radius. She loooooves being in everyone’s business. And I’m sure you have no trouble with the ladies.”
“I don’t know.” He was blushing again.
“Fine.” I chuckled. “I’ll let it go. But you just say the word and I’ll mention it to her. I’d help you out, but the only women I know around here are two lesbians who are married to each other and a drag queen. They’re all lovely, but…”
Lucas laughed loudly as he opened the tin of cashews and shook a few out on the board with the cheese for us. Eating dinner with Lucas was comfortable and easy. I was smiling internally, glad that I hadn’t kept the opinion that he was just a quiet weirdo. Even without Oma around as a buffer, we got along great. And that gave me hope that I would be able to make some friends while I was back in Ohio. Which was good…because I was beginning to think that the length of time I’d be in town would be longer than I had originally thought when I headed out from L.A.
“You know, being an openly gay celebrity, the magazines are always pairing you up with someone or speculating about your…love life.” Lucas looked down with a grin, realizing what he was admitting to.
“You’ve mentioned seeing articles…if you want to call them that…in magazines twice now.” I grabbed my wine glass with a smirk. “How many gossip rags do you read?”
“Just the reputable ones, of course.” He teased back.
“Of course.” I drained the rest of my glass.
Lucas grabbed the bottle and refilled my glass without asking. I didn’t mind too much. At least I was with someone amiable if I was going to catch a slight buzz for the first time in years.
“The two guys I’ve actually dated…well, they weren’t famous.” I shrugged. “I’ve never dated another celebrity. I mean, I’ve been flirted with, asked out, that kind of thing…but I always thought it’d be too much to handle.”
“How’s that?”
“I’m not, well, great at dating.” I shrugged, loading another cracker with brie. “I mean, I go on a date and I just get nervous and self-conscious and don’t know what to talk about and paranoid that the other person knows who I am and that’s the only reason that they’re there…and, well, I already explained about not being casual…so, it’s just odd. Dating, I mean.”
“I understand.” He smiled, picking up his wine glass.
I just made a vague gesture as I shoved the cracker in my mouth.
“Can I ask you a personal question?” Lucas chewed at his lip.
“We’re like best friends now, right?” I chuckled.
He nodded with a smile.
“Yeah, ask away.” I chuckled.
“What do you want?” He gave a one-shoulder shrug. “Someone to travel the world with you and be there for you and your career? Do you want to settle down somewhere? Have kids? I mean…what’s the long-term plan for your romantic and sex life?”
I sighed and picked up my glass.
“That was pretty personal, huh?” He cringed.
“Well, yeah. But...” I took a sip of my wine. “We’ve established that we’re tight now. So, I’m going to answer that…but you have to promise me something.”
The wine was good…and it was making me feel open, honest, and…happy.
“Okay.” He smiled, taking a large drink of his wine.
“Promise it stays between us.”
“Of course.” He smiled wider.
“Well,” I tried to sit back, then remembered I was on a stool, corrected, and immediately hoped it didn’t look like I was as buzzed as I was, “I…I want to just be Rob Wagner. Now. I didn’t used to want to…but I’m tired of being Jacob Michaels. I was hoping that maybe Oma wouldn’t be averse to me sticking around for a while…at least until I can either figure out where I want to be permanently or find a place here. Hollywood, running all over the world for work and not really enjoying it…I just can’t see doing that anymore. It’s exhausting, man.”
Lucas just eyed me, sipping at his wine.
“So, to answer your question…yeah. I want to settle down.” I took another gulp of wine and started to make a cheese and cracker sandwich. “Find a nice guy, do the whole domesticated thing. Not sure about kids, though. But also, I want to make him travel all over the world with me. But just for fun, of course. I just want someone to love me for me.”
We both sat there, sipping at our wine, taking a bite sporadically, uncomfortable at how real the discussion became so quickly and easily. There was something about Lucas that made me just be open and honest. Or maybe it was the Riesling. Yeah, it was probably the Riesling. Or maybe it was just having someone real to talk to for the first time in a long time. Someone who didn’t curse and scream at me, nor want something, nor judge me. Lucas made me feel comfortable just being myself.
“Riesling sure is a lubricant, isn’t?” Lucas mumbled.
“I don’t know if I would have used that phrasing.” I laughed loudly.
Lucas blushed until he looked like a tomato but couldn’t keep himself from laughing as well.
“This is really good wine.” I pretended to slur.
“Five buck chuck.” He shrugged.
“Best tasting five bucks ever.”
“Do you like red wine?” He grinned sheepishly and stood from his stool before heading over to the cabinet.
He opened the cabinet over his sink to show that he had three more bottles hiding out of sight.
“You naughty little bastard.”
He chewed at his lip as he held onto the cabinet door, looking down at his feet.
“These bottles would last me forever.” He said lowly. “I never drink much because after one glass with dinner, I’m done. I never have any…friends to enjoy them with. And I wouldn’t feel comfortable anyway. But…we’re best friends now, right?”
“If there’s a peppery merlot up there, yes.” I teased. “Hell, even if there’s not, you’re my new best buddy.”
Lucas laughed, a little drunkenly, and pulled a bottle down from the cabinet. He popped the cork like an expert and sat back down on his stool across from me again.
“Oma will be pissed when I show up…well…pissed.” I giggled like a girl as I drained the last of my Riesling to make room for the Merlot.
“Shhhhhh.” Lucas held a finger to his lips. “We just won’t tell her.”
“What she doesn’t know won’t get me cursed out.” I laughed.
Lucas poured me a healthy serving of wine and then filled his glass in the same fashion. We lifted our glasses and clinked them together.
“To new best friends.” I smiled.
“Absolutely.” He smiled back.
Wine was drunk, food was eaten, secrets and dreams and desires were shared, and I lost track of how much was eaten, drunk, and how much time went by. But hours later, I found myself having driven myself home completely drunk, stumbling in the front door of Oma’s house. I managed to not swing the door in so violently that it struck the wall, but that was mostly because I was holding onto it to stay upright.
Once inside the door, I steadied myself, collected all of my faculties, trying not to giggle at how loopy I was, then gently closed the door behind myself. Thinking about taking off my coat in the foyer and hanging it neatly by the door seemed like a tall order, so I decided I would just take it off in my bedroom. As steadily as my feet and legs could manage, I made my way to the stairs and started my ascent.
Lucas and I had spent hours talking about our lives, what we did in our free time, why we couldn’t find our “person”, and how we were obviously the best friends there ever were. When you have good wine, good food, and good company, friendship is never far behind. And life never seems all that awful. When I had left, he had insisted that I sleep it off on his couch, but I promised him that I would be just fine going home. Of course, trying to navigate the stairs made me realize that I wasn’t nearly as well off as I thought. In fact, driving home had been completely irresponsible.
