The Mature Man's Guide to Surviving Change

by Chris Scully

  Did he mean me?

  “You know Dale always said you dated younger because you were trying to hang on to your youth. But I always thought it was because they didn’t expect anything of you. You didn’t have to make any sort of effort or risk your heart. Were either of us right?”

  I tamped down a surge of anger that Dale and Perry had discussed something like that behind my back. What else had they said about me? “May I remind you that Dale is the one who actually ended up robbing the cradle and marrying a much younger man?”

  “Ah, but he didn’t want to. He thought the age difference was too big and that I’d get tired of him. It took a lot of persuasion to change his mind. I may be short, but when there’s something I want, watch out.” Perry cocked his head and studied me. “I’m serious, though. Have you never been tempted to try a real relationship with someone closer to your age?”

  The doorbell rang, making me jump. Saved by the bell—literally. “Expecting company?” Perry never had visitors.

  “I don’t know who….” Perry’s eyes widened and he winced. “Oh, I’m sorry. I might have mentioned….” He moved toward the door as he trailed off, and then I heard voices in the foyer.

  When he came back, he was leading Josh of all people and carrying a bottle of wine.

  Josh. Fucking hell.

  “Hey, Joel,” he said, appearing equally surprised to see me there. “Are you cooking for us?”

  I stiffened. “No, I’m not fu—”

  “Joel and I have dinner together a couple of times a week,” Perry interjected smoothly. He evaded my glare.

  Damn right we do.

  “Oh,” Josh said uncomfortably. “When you suggested I drop by, I didn’t think—”

  “It’s fine,” Perry assured him with a smile. “You’re welcome to stay. We have enough for three, don’t we, Joel?”

  “Sure,” I said with an evil grin. “We’re doing pasta primavera.”

  “Do you mind holding the pasta for me?” Josh asked. “I’m paleo.”

  I snorted. “I remember. It’s still a thing, is it?” Accommodating Perry’s vegetarian requests was one thing, but I drew the line at hipster fad diets.

  “And is it a cream sauce? Because I don’t do dairy.”

  “And yet wine is somehow on your diet,” I pointed out.

  “Joel,” Perry hissed in a low voice.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Josh assured him. “Yes, I’m allowed wine occasionally. And this is from an organic winery.”

  Of course it was. Did Josh think Perry could be so easily won by flowers and fancy wine? Oh God, could he?

  Perry smiled. “I’m sure it will be perfect. And Joel does a marvelous garlic-lemon oil for the pasta. It’s all vegetarian by the way—I’ve had to retrain him on that. Why don’t you have a seat on the patio, Josh, and I’ll open this bottle.” Play nice, he mouthed to me behind Josh’s back.

  “Oh wow, you must really like poinsettias,” I heard Josh say as Perry let him out to the patio. Which of course confirmed they weren’t from him.

  The evening only got worse from there.

  I spent the next two hours glaring at Josh across the table as he tried his best to sell Perry on joining CrossFit with him. This was my night. I’d been looking forward to it all week. And now Josh was changing everything. He had no business being there.

  Of course, Perry, considerate host that he was, tried to draw me into the conversation, but I wasn’t in the mood to be mollified. I felt too much like a maiden aunt chaperoning on a first date.

  When it came time for dessert, I served up the macerated berries with a drizzle of balsamic vinegar along with the goat cheese cheesecake.

  “Josh?”

  He looked like I had just offered him shit on a plate. “Oh, no thanks.”

  “Right, you don’t do dairy. Never did get that. I mean I understand dietary restrictions for medical reasons, but to voluntarily give up so much good stuff seems a shame.”

  “I think it’s about finding the right balance for yourself,” Perry said. “So that it’s sustainable and that you don’t necessarily feel deprived. I don’t feel like I’m missing out by not eating meat, but take away my ice cream and chocolate and I’d be a grumpy man.”

  “But do you know how many carbs are in that?” Josh asked. It might have been my imagination, but I could have sworn his gaze dropped meaningfully to my thickening waistline. Funny, my weight hadn’t seemed to bother him when we were sleeping together.

  Perry moaned. Both Josh and I swung around to stare at him, the same thoughts likely swirling around in our heads. “Sorry, was that out loud?” he said. “This is amazing, Joel.”

  Heat raced along my neck, not only because Perry’s delight was erotic as hell, but I loved watching him enjoy my food.

  “Are you sure we can’t corrupt you, Josh?” Perry asked. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

  I could have sworn I saw Josh’s eyes gleam with hunger, or maybe I was mistaking that for lust of another sort, because he held firm. “I’m good, thanks. If I eat that, I’ll have to spend all day in the gym.”

  Like he wouldn’t be in the gym anyway. Unless he’d changed drastically, he practically lived there. My eyes met Perry’s across the table. His lips twitched as if he’d read my mind, and it was one of those priceless moments where two people who’ve known each other a long time are perfectly attuned without ever speaking a word. It made my heart race.

  After dinner, I volunteered to clean up, even though Perry and I usually traded off on that duty. Josh appeared intent on sticking around, and I wasn’t about to leave them alone, so I took my time, determined to outwait him.

  As I was wiping down the stovetop for the second time, the soft, folksy strains of Fleetwood Mac filled my ears. It had been so long since I’d heard music in the house that it took me a moment to realize the sounds came from the living room.

  I followed my ears and found Perry and Josh seated together on the sofa. Perry was reading the back of an album cover. “I haven’t listened to this in ages,” he said. “Brings back memories. My first boyfriend gave me this record.”

  “It’s yours? I’d assumed all the vinyl was Dale’s.” The huge collection of vinyl LPs lined two shelves of the bookcase, but as far as I knew, they had sat untouched since Dale’s death, and I’d never paid them much notice.

  “No, they’re mine.”

  Out of curiosity I scanned the labels. He had everything from Marvin Gaye to vintage Bowie to Bob Seger. “You’re way cooler than I thought, Perry.”

  “See? There’s still some life in the old boy yet.”

  “This sound quality is terrible,” Josh complained as a pop and crackle burst from the speakers. “Isn’t there a digital version? Actually you could free up all this space if you went digital.”

  I almost laughed as Perry’s eyebrows rose in horror. “Are you kidding?” he croaked. “The history of this album is right there in every groove. Listen. Right there—you can hear Stevie’s throat click as she takes a breath…. You can’t replicate that with remastering. Right, Joel?”

  “Sorry, what?” I’d been too busy savoring Josh’s foot in his mouth to listen.

  “Not everything new and shiny is better. Digital strips out all the character, all the depth and texture. Vinyl is imperfect, yes, but that’s part of the charm.”

  “I never thought about it,” I said.

  “Well, you should.” Perry stifled a yawn then, and I jumped on the excuse.

  “You’re tired. We should head out.”

  Josh narrowed his eyes but was too polite to contradict me and outstay his welcome.

  We left together, the strains of “Rhiannon” seeing us out. The minute the front door closed behind us, Josh rounded on me. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you were jealous.”

  “Jealous? Don’t flatter yourself.”

  “Oh no, not of me. We both know our fling meant nothing. But if Perry is off-limits, all you had to do was
say so. I would have respected that.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Don’t you? You’ve been glaring at me all night.”

  I shrugged and fastened my helmet beneath my chin. “I told you. I don’t want to see him hurt. I’m just looking out for him.”

  “Uh-huh. I’ve known you for a few years now, and the only thing I’ve ever seen you this proprietary with was your kitchen. Now I understand why we never had a chance.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “You’re already involved.”

  “With who? Perry? We’re friends.”

  “Keep telling yourself that, Joel. Maybe one day you’ll believe it.”

  Three

  Realizing that there is no way out of the situation may prove difficult for some and lead to confusion.

  A WEEK later, Perry’s secret Santa had me worried. Josh I could handle—despite his rock-hard abs, I couldn’t see anything developing there—but this mystery admirer and his unwelcome gifts was an unknown threat. The poinsettias had only been the beginning. Next came a pair of plaid Christmas socks, then a small gingerbread house piped with royal icing. Perry seemed to take great delight in texting me all the details, complete with pictures. And his secret Santa didn’t appear to be slowing down either. Just yesterday, Perry had discovered a box of Christmas cookies left on his doorstep. Cookies. And today it had been a pair of chocolate cupcakes, frosted with perfectly sculpted espresso buttercream. He offered to save me one, but I declined on principle.

  It was one thing to think of Perry with someone else in the far-flung distant future, but this was too much. The gauntlet had been thrown. This guy was treading on my turf now.

  I wasn’t a competitive person by nature—except when it came to food—and so that’s what I blamed my unexpected irritation on. To make matters worse, I was booked almost every night, and while that was great news for the business, it wasn’t so great for me and Perry. If there was a me and Perry. What if I was about to be replaced? What if—?

  I stopped, realizing I’d overshot my apartment in my distraction. I was tired and grumpy from a long day, and tomorrow I’d be doing it all over again. After spinning around, I backtracked but then frowned at the wreath perched on my door. I didn’t own a wreath. Although if I did, this vibrant burst of rainbow tulle and glitter would probably be it.

  I double-checked the unit numbers. Yes, it was my apartment.

  Despite my confusion, the fluffy concoction made me smile. It was tacky enough that I loved it.

  “Nice wreath,” my neighbor, Stella, who was out front smoking a cigarette, commented.

  “Did you happen to see who put it up?”

  “No, I assumed it was you.”

  I shook my head.

  “Well, whoever it was sure knows you well,” she said.

  Perry.

  Perry knew me better than anyone, but would he have done something like this? My stomach fluttered. What the hell?

  I let myself into the apartment, set down my supplies, and called him.

  “Joel,” he answered, sounding breathless and happy. “How are you?”

  “Are you responsible for this garish display on my door?”

  Silence. “You don’t like it.” Disappointment coated his words, and I could have hit myself for ruining the moment.

  “No, I absolutely love it. It’s perfect.”

  He laughed in relief. “I thought of you the moment I saw it.”

  “Oh.” That sobered me fast. He thought I was a hot mess.

  “That’s not a bad thing, Joel. I like your color,” Perry said softly. He cleared his throat. “I thought you could use some Christmas cheer. You’ve been working so hard. And I wanted to return the favor.”

  “What favor?”

  “You know. The secret Santa thing.”

  My heart wrenched. Oh no, he thought it was me. Damned if I didn’t wish I was. “Perry—”

  “It’s so sweet, and—”

  “It’s not me.”

  “Oh.” The phone grew slippery in my sweaty palm as Perry’s silence lengthened. “Well, damn, I’m so embarrassed. I thought this—that you—Never mind.”

  What? What did you think? I wanted to shout. It was clear he was disappointed, but he sounded almost as if he’d wanted me to be his secret Santa. And that was too confusing to contemplate. Because I knew I wasn’t the guy to make Perry happy, no matter how much I might want to be.

  A burst of muffled laughter in the background made me stiffen as I realized he wasn’t alone. “You have company. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

  “You’re not. It’s Cassie and the kids. They’re here visiting before their flight to Denver tomorrow. Hey, you should come over. It’s not too late.” His voice was thick with something I hadn’t heard before. “I tried out your eggnog recipe, and it was a hit. I’ve got leftovers from dinner too if you haven’t eaten yet.”

  My stomach growled. I’d only met Dale’s daughter once, at the funeral, and she seemed nice enough, but the last place I wanted to be was in Dale’s house, with Dale’s family. More reminders I didn’t belong there.

  “Thanks, but—”

  “Papa Perry, who are you talkin’ to?” a child’s voice squeaked in the background.

  “A friend of mine,” Perry replied. “His name is Joel.”

  “Does he want marshmallows? ’Cause we ate ’em all.”

  Perry laughed, the sound deep and rich. “That’s Heather, Cassie’s youngest,” he told me. “We’ve been roasting marshmallows over the fire pit. But apparently a little marshmallow monster ate them all.”

  I smiled into the phone. “I still have such a hard time thinking of you as a grandfather.”

  “You’re not the only one. I console myself with the knowledge that it’s an honorary title. That I’m not old enough to be anyone’s grandpa. Although sometimes I feel like it.”

  “You’re not old.”

  “Tell that to my back first thing in the morning. Or when the hair sprouts in my ears overnight. Will I see you at all this week?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. Probably not—my schedule is tight. Between grocery shopping and menu planning….”

  “Sure. I get it.”

  The excuse was flimsy—we both knew it. I could easily spare an hour or two for coffee or breakfast, but something held me back. If Perry was going to start dating, I was going to lose him anyway. Better to put some distance between us now so that I could avoid the front row seat to the show. Still, I grimaced, hating the thought of leaving him alone. And I missed him.

  Before I could change my mind, he spoke, “Well good night, then. And thanks, Joel.”

  “For what?”

  “For not making a big deal about the secret Santa thing. I’m so glad we had this conversation now before I did something truly embarrassing.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know, like show up at your place wrapped up in only a big red bow.”

  A strangled sound burst from my throat.

  “Good night, Joel,” he said again and hung up.

  Four

  At this stage it is common to be torn between the old way and the new, not knowing which is better.

  SIMON SCOWLED at me as he opened the door, clutching the sash of his blue silk dressing gown and squinting into the sunlight. “You had better have a good reason for disturbing me at this early hour, dear Joel.”

  I did. But none that I wanted to divulge. For the second morning in a row, I’d woken with an erection hard enough to split nails, and while normally that would be a good thing—I admit to a little preening—the cause had me worried. Specifically, my inability to get the image of Perry in a strategically placed bow out of my head. Simon was the only person I trusted to tell me what to do.

  “You were so keen to dispense advice at your party, I thought I’d give you another chance.”

  “Yes,” Simon said.

  “Yes?”
/>
  “That’s my advice.”

  “But I haven’t even asked the question yet.”

  He arched a winged silver eyebrow. “Is it about you and Perry?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “Then that’s my answer.”

  “But—”

  “Joel, I adore you, and you’re a talented chef, but you have a tendency to coast. Frankly I was amazed you had the guts to walk away from the Parker even though it was sucking you dry. But do you know what happens if you stand too long at the crossroads? The way forward closes up around you. Sometimes you just have to choose a path and hope it’s the right one.”

  If only it were that easy. For as long as I’d known him, Perry had been firmly tucked away in the untouchable category. The friend zone. My heart might have been engaged, but I made damned sure the rest of me wasn’t. I’d taught myself not to look at him as a man. It was the only way to keep my sanity and my friendship with Dale. Yet neither did I relish the thought of spending the next fifteen years watching from afar as Perry started a life with someone else. I’d already done that once.

  “I have competition,” I said.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about Perry’s secret Santa.”

  “You know about that? Why? What do you know?”

  “Simon darling, what happened to you?” a man’s voice called. “You said you’d only be a minute.” My jaw dropped as Gregg Olsen, in all his naked, wrinkled glory, strolled into view. The tufts of white hair on his chest were so thick, it looked as though he’d been covered in cotton balls. “Oh, hi, Joel. I didn’t realize we had company.”

  I weakly raised a hand in greeting.

  “I’ll be right there,” Simon told him. “Joel is just leaving.”

  “Why you old dog,” I whispered when Gregg had disappeared. “He’s a little long in the tooth for you, isn’t he? When did this start?”

  Simon actually colored. He took my elbow and steered me to the door. “Joel, pretty things are nice to play with once in a while, but a man needs more than that to be happy. You of all people should know that. Now, if you don’t mind, my Cialis is kicking in, and I believe you have some decisions to make.”