by J. D. Walker
“Hello?” his smooth voice said.
I tried not to sigh out loud like a sycophant. “Um, hi. It’s, uh, Wheeler, you know, Ridley.” Great, I sounded like a five-year-old. “Rebekah gave me your number. I, uh, well, damn.”
As I tried to recover my usual suave self, I heard the most surprising sound in the world. Gregory Wang was laughing. At something that I had said. Hallelujah!
“It’s nice to hear you fumble a bit for once in your life. Didn’t know you had it in you.”
I chuckled. “I didn’t, either. I guess you bring out the best in me, if that’s what this is.”
“It can’t hurt. Why the call? Everything okay?”
“My fridge is empty and I just don’t have it in me to face shopping right now. Would you mind terribly if I asked you to bring me something from the diner? Pretty please?” I batted my eyelids, though he couldn’t see it.
“It’s no trouble, though home-cooked would be better for you. Why don’t I make you something?”
My heart raced. “Y-You would do that? It’s totally not necessary.” Shut up, fool. Let him cook for you!
“I insist. Give me half an hour, okay?” He rang off and left me staring at my cell phone, wondering what on earth had just happened.
* * * *
It wasn’t yet thirty minutes and there came a knock on my door. I went to open it and just barely suppressed the longing that wanted to burst out of my chest at the sight of Gregory with grocery bags in his arms, here in my home, with me.
“May I come in?” he asked, eyebrow raised, probably because I was staring at him like an idiot.
Feeling five times a fool, I stepped back to allow him entry. “Sorry. Please, make yourself at home.” I pointed him toward the kitchen.
The place was clean. I tended to be a bit of a neat freak, the result of an OCD mother and ex-military father. As I followed Gregory to the kitchen, I heard him say, “This is so not what I expected at all.”
I almost bumped into him where he was now standing at the kitchen table, grocery bags deposited on top, as he took a slow perusal of the adjacent living room. His ass was nice. Round and tight in dark purple jeans. He wore a short-sleeved white T-shirt with the logo from the daycare center on the front. Even as dressed-down as he was, Gregory was still a knockout. He was wearing trendy-looking glasses with thick black frames, too. He was simply…lovely.
I snapped back to the present. “Sorry? Oh, well, yes, it’s a bit eclectic, but I’ve traveled a lot and picked up things along the way. I’m also a bit of a stickler for neatness, I’m afraid.”
Gregory seemed surprised. “I suppose I need to dispense with my assumptions about you, at least some of them.”
“Such as?”
He smiled. “Spoiled, entitled rich kid who thinks money and charm will get him everything.” He started checking cabinets. “I thought I’d make pasta and meat sauce.” My stomach growled in response, and he said, “You like that idea, apparently.”
I sat at the table since my body was aching and I was tired. I would get up to fetch my bottle of painkillers in a bit, but the novelty of having Gregory Wang in my kitchen was not to be denied my starving fantasy. So he’d thought I was an entitled asshole. I couldn’t blame him, really, not with the way I’d acted in the past.
A short time later, I blurted, “Is the only reason you’re here because of what happened yesterday?” The minute I said that, I could have smacked my head. Idiot! Now you might scare him away.
Gregory frowned as he watched the water boil in the big pot he’d found, and I thought I’d blown it when he said, “I can go, you know. I just thought you could use a decent meal, and so could I.”
I was quick to demur. “No, no. Please ignore me. Stupid shit comes out of my mouth a lot. I’m not the most thoughtful guy in the world.”
He didn’t respond and so I watched as he made dinner, something that I absolutely enjoyed. He fit here, in this kitchen, with me.
“I wanted to do something nice for the small-town hero. But you need to understand that’s all this is. A ‘thank you’ meal for doing something so brave and selfless.”
I shrugged. “I appreciate it, but it was instinctual. Like I told Rebekah earlier, I reacted. That’s all it was. Anyone would have done it.”
Eventually, Gregory dished up the pasta and sauce on two plates and set them on the table. “Doesn’t matter how or why. It’s done and we’re all grateful.” I asked him to take out two cans of soda from the fridge and then we ate.
Throughout the meal, we engaged in small talk, which I expected, but was nonetheless frustrating. When I tried to ask him something personal, he would veer off into the mundane. Naturally, my curiosity to know everything about him grew with each bite.
After the meal, Gregory washed up since he wouldn’t let me do anything, and then I walked outside with him. At his minivan, I said, “Thank you for coming over. You didn’t have to do this, and I know you don’t trust me, or my intentions. If I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t trust me either. Before, I mean.”
Gregory fiddled with the keys he’d taken from his pocket as he stared into the night. “Before what, exactly?”
“Before you, Gregory. I laid eyes on you and I knew it would be different. I don’t know how to make you believe that, or see the truth of things, but I’ll do whatever it takes for you to trust me. This is new territory for me, you know.”
He gazed at me with a sad half-smile. “I’ve given my trust before and been burned.” He unlocked his minivan and sat in the driver’s seat. “See you at noon, tomorrow? You can put it off until another day, if you’re not up to it.”
“Are you kidding me? You willingly invited me into your sacred domain for lunch. No way am I going to give that up. I’ll be there.”
Gregory shook his head. “I figured you’d say that.” He started the minivan. “Take some painkillers and go to bed early, Wheeler. ‘Night.”
I waved as he drove off, wondering what I had gotten myself into for tomorrow’s lunch. Getting through to Gregory was like navigating a minefield. I was definitely up for the challenge.
* * * *
I wasn’t as sore on Thursday, though I still ached a bit. I called Mrs. R. at home and asked if she could cover the front desk for my lunch “date” with Gregory. She was more than happy to have something to do. Maybe I would end up hiring her part time. She was available, more than qualified, and capable of handling the clients, most of whom she’d known since they were kids.
When Mrs. R. arrived, I explained a few things, made sure she had my cell phone number and then made my way across the street to the daycare center. The kids were sitting in groups at small tables in a side room. Gregory wore an apron and had just finished serving everyone. He and the staff settled the kids before leaving them to the joys of eating and loud conversation.
Gregory waved me to one of the larger tables where two plates were already waiting, filled with our food. “I’ll be right there,” he said before finishing his tasks.
A minute later, he sat across from me. “You came,” he began, grabbing a crust-free sandwich in one hand and taking a bite.
“You invited me. No way was I missing this. It’s a step in the right direction.”
“Which direction is that, exactly?” he asked, chewing his food while keeping an eye on the kids.
“A date. With me.” I tried out a charming smile and Gregory’s cheeks turned ruddy. “No strings, I swear. Just a chance to get to know each other, maybe become friends of a sort?”
Before Gregory could answer, a kid started shouting that a girl had stolen his sandwich. Gregory got up and quickly took care of the crisis. On returning to our table, he said, “Why do you really want to go out on a date with me, Wheeler?” He drank some juice, then placed his chin in his hands. “The truth, please.”
With him staring at me like that with clear, intent eyes, I couldn’t lie. He seemed to be the kind of man who needed honesty in everything. “It’s true, I’m
a horndog. I want you like I’ve never wanted anyone before. But, something about you makes me want to go…further. You intrigue me, inspire me, make me hot, and I just want to bask in the glow of your presence for a few hours, whether or not you ever say ‘yes’ to more than a date. Is that truth enough for you?” I took a breath and hoped for the best.
The expressions that flitted across his face were legion. He didn’t speak while we finished our meal. Only afterward did he say, “Thank you for your honesty.”
He got up from the table and asked me to wait for him by the front door while he helped his staff clean up and resettle the kids in the play area.
When that was done, Gregory escorted me back to the gym, which I thought was a sweet gesture. We stood before the glass and I waved to Mrs. R. so she knew she could leave whenever she wanted to. She gave me a “thumbs up” sign and headed toward the ladies changing room.
“It was sweet of you to have lunch with me and a bunch of toddlers.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. By the way, the fruit cups were divine.” This made Gregory laugh, something I definitely wanted to see more of.
“You’re easy to please, I see.” He ran a hand through his hair and sobered. “Look, I know what people in this town say about me. I have a reputation for being standoffish, frigid…”
“Ice queen,” I offered, and held up my hands when he glared at me. “Hey, just trying to be helpful.”
“As I was saying, I feel I’ve misjudged you. What you did for that little boy, how you jumped in to save his life without hesitation, not many would, and I just wanted to thank you. I think there’s more to you than your admittedly nice exterior”—did he just compliment my looks? Hot dog!—”and yes, maybe I’d like to get to know that version of you better.” He shuffled his feet a little. “I had a…bad experience a while ago, which colored my worldview. Perhaps I’ll be able to share that with you, sometime.”
“I make no claim to being a psychiatrist or a great listener, but for you? I can try to be, if that’s what you need.” I hoped I didn’t sound desperate.
“Thank you. Hey…” He stared at me with a half-smile that was fast becoming catnip to me. “I’ll be finishing up a mural in the daycare center on Sunday. You could stop by, if you’d like, and keep me company. Maybe help me mix paint? It’s up to you.”
I did a mental fist pump. Yes! Calmly, I responded, “I’d love to.”
“Great. I’ll see you then, okay? And take it easy the rest of the week.”
“I will.” I watched him walk across the street, the breeze causing his apron strings to flutter in the breeze. I finally had an “in” with Gregory Wang. Here’s hoping I don’t fuck it up.
* * * *
Maury Landrum, Tory’s boyfriend, gaped at me in shock from where he sat on the couch. “Hold up. Did you just say Gregory Wang, the ice queen who won’t give it up to anybody in this town, invited you over to watch him paint?”
It was Saturday night and I was spending time with my friends in their home at the Misty View Motel. Maury had finally moved in with Tory a month ago. I was feeling a lot better, too. The stiffness was mostly gone, and I ached only a little now.
I scowled from where I sat in the loveseat. “I don’t see why that’s shocking, and don’t call him an ice queen.”
“Didn’t I tell you he would be the one?” Tory added as he brought beers from the kitchen to the living room. We were having a Deadwood marathon.
“The one to what?” I asked as I took my beer from him and nodded.
“Never you mind,” Tory replied as he sat beside Maury and placed an arm around his shoulders.
“So all it took was saving a kid’s life and getting hit by a car to get his attention. Well, if I’d have known…” Maury said.
“Hey now, don’t even joke about that,” Tory chided, and Maury kissed him quietly.
It was always a sweet pain to see my friends so happy together. In the beginning, it hadn’t been so great between the three of us, what with Maury’s almost unrequited love for Tory, and Tory’s cluelessness about it. And then my turning up—which stirred up my past history with Tory—hadn’t helped, and my flirting caused more harm than good. Thankfully, we were able to move past all that, and Maury no longer thought I was trying to steal Tory away from him. As if. I preferred a challenge, like Gregory.
I sighed. “Whatever the case, it’s an opportunity I’m not planning to waste. I will make the most of it.”
Tory snorted. “I bet.”
Slightly miffed, I said, “Just because I’ve always been a bit of a player doesn’t mean I can’t change, you know.”
“Fine, fine,” Tory replied. “But be careful with him. He’s not like your usual boy toy. You could hurt him. A lot.”
Maury chimed in. “Yeah. I mean, he was always a bit of an ice”—at my look, he changed his words—”a bit standoffish, let’s say. More of a loner. But when he returned home early from college, he shut everyone out completely. He would relax only around kids, which was why his parents helped him set up a daycare center. It was the only thing that seemed to give him…peace. No one knows what happened while he was away.”
“I can only hope for the best,” was all I could respond.
Tory kissed Maury’s cheek. “Me, too, buddy.”
The three of us spent the rest of the evening arguing over the merits of Swearengen and Bullock. In between discussion, I thought about the next day with Gregory. What was I getting myself into?
Uncharacteristic as it was for me, I was nervous. I could so easily mess this up by being the clueless guy I’d always been. Maybe Gregory liked that in a man. I sincerely hoped so.
* * * *
Mid-morning on Sunday, I dressed in peppermint-green, knee-length shorts and a lilac short-sleeved shirt. My hair was perfectly combed and I hoped to make a good impression.
I parked in front of the daycare center and went in through the open front door. “Hello?” I called as I stepped further inward.
“Back here,” came the reply, and I followed the voice. I ended up in the play area and saw Gregory on his knees near a back wall. He wore paint-spattered clothing and was filling in the outline of a duck.
“Hi,” I said and sat on a nearby bench.
He put down his brush and turned to greet me. “You came.” He looked me over and smiled. “While I appreciate the gesture, you’re likely to get covered in paint at some point. Wouldn’t want those expensive loafers or threads to be ruined.”
I thought briefly of making a joke about having enough money not to care, but I figured that would be tasteless. “Maybe I’m trying too hard,” I muttered and rubbed the back of my neck.
Gregory studied me before saying, “No. It’s nice, actually. I deal with messy toddlers and equally messy adults day in and day out. Your attire and presence here are refreshing.”
“Thank you.” I leaned back on my hands to watch him as he went back to work. “Did you design all this?” I asked, referring to the general motif, the artwork on the walls, the color scheme.
“I did. The first design got me through a very dark time, and ever since, once a year, I add something new. Keeps things fresh.” He cleared his throat. “I went to college, focused on being an Art major.”
“Oh?” I said after Gregory’s pause stretched out several long moments.
“I’d always been good at painting and felt it would be my life’s work. And then…”
“Then what?” I asked, not wanting to provide him with a chance to clam up again, especially now that I was starting to learn about his past.
“Then something happened during the summer before my junior year and I…needed a new direction. I came home, and my parents helped me return from the brink. I’ve always loved working with children, had volunteered for lots of programs in my teens. I ended up with the daycare center. Doesn’t mean I’ve abandoned my love of art. I just…combined the two.”
From what I could see, he did it brilliantly. �
�You seem to be doing well. Everyone raves about this place and rates it highly.”
“I love hearing that. Mind you, I have very high standards and I’ve been known to fire staff for even the slightest infraction. Once the ice queen, always the ice queen.” The bitterness in his voice tugged at my heart.
“Don’t call yourself that. You shouldn’t own that phrase. You’re simply someone trying to do the best he can with what he has. And succeeding, by the way.”
He smiled. “Thank you.” He gestured toward the small kitchen to our right. “There’s juice and snacks in the refrigerator if you’re hungry. I’m not a fan of coffee, but you can make tea or hot chocolate, if you’d like. Help yourself.”
“Thank you.” I made myself a cup of tea, grabbed some pineapple slices, and sat back down to watch Gregory work.
“Tell me about yourself, Wheeler. I can assume certain things from the way you dress and how you conduct your business, but I’d like to hear it all from you.”
“There’s not much to tell that wouldn’t disappoint you, I think.”
“Try me. I might surprise you.”
I told him about my childhood, how I knew Tory as a kid but then moved on in my teens. How I used girls as a cover until I decided to rip off the Band-Aid. How I’d come up with the gym concept and started the franchise.
“I came to town early last year for a weekend. I wanted to check out the place for a new franchise. At the motel where I stayed, I met up with Tory again, but I didn’t remember who he was, right away. I almost screwed things up with him and Maury, too. Thankfully, that’s all fixed now.”
I deliberately skirted my man-whoring ways, however, wanting to spare his feelings.
He wasn’t having it, though.
“Tell me your cheesiest come-on lines,” Gregory said as he filled in a bird’s wing with purple.
“Oh no, you don’t want to hear those.”
“Yes, I do. Humor a guy who hasn’t had much adult male conversation in years and tell me what I’ve been missing.”
“You asked for it.” I finished my tea and nibbled on a pineapple slice. “I’ve used, ‘Hey, I have that same shirt. It looks stunning on you, but I bet it would look even better on me. Care to see?’“
