by Andrew Grey
I wasn’t particularly keen on it either.
“I’ll take care of it,” Justin offered. I hadn’t realized he had joined us, and there wasn’t a way I could logically say no. This entire situation had me on edge.
“Thanks,” I told him, and got Rosco in the carrier. After answering some questions, I called Felix, and he picked me up along with all the cat supplies.
Meyer had driven himself, and he sent a text asking me to meet at his place. I told Felix the address, and he took me to a small house in one of the northern suburbs. It was nice, with mature shrubs and landscaping. It had probably cost a fortune, and I wondered if Meyer had bought or was only renting it. I rang the bell, and Meyer answered the door, welcoming me inside.
The house was gorgeous and comfortable, with overstuffed furniture in a craftsman style that just begged to be sat on. The tables were honey oak, and the lamps were leaded glass and cast a warm glow. “Wow,” I whispered, and set Rosco down along with the dishes. He explored the room, checking every inch while I turned to Meyer. “What’s the plan?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to do a stupid interview and talk about things between you and me. We get to spend only so much time together, and I want that to be just between the two of us. But if we have to do this, then….”
I put the litter box in the bathroom and sat down on the sofa, and Meyer sat next to me. “We don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to. This isn’t about me, but you. Everyone already knows I’m gay, and there has been nothing said about it as far as I know. This is about you and what you need.” I wrapped my arms around his waist and put my head against his chest. “What is it you want?”
“I just want to have you and figure things out after this is over. I want to go to bed next to you and wake up in the morning with you, and then we can determine how to build a life. I wasted three years, and I don’t want to be apart any longer.”
“But where? My home is on the other side of the country, and….”
Meyer put his arms around my shoulders. “I know you work from home, and you can write and manage your blog from anywhere you are.” He released me, and I pulled away as Meyer stood and took my hand. He guided me out of the room and opened a door just inside the hall. “I set this up as an office, but I never use it, and I thought you could.” He motioned, and I stepped inside perfection. A beautiful oak table served as a work surface, with shelves and a chair across from the desk. An actual visitor’s chair.
“You want this to be for me?”
“Yes. And there’s more.” We continued down the hall, and he opened another door. This room contained a king-size bed with a grand, thick duvet that beckoned me forward. “This is really lonely without you.”
“So you’re asking me to come here and live with you… here?”
“Yes. You and I will finish the season, and then if you agree, you’ll move here—in here, in this house—with me.” He swallowed, and I marveled, since I’d never expected to actually hear that offer from Meyer. It was a little overwhelming. “You don’t need to give me an answer right now, but think about it.”
I shook my head, staring at the bed and everything it represented. “How can you just do this? You’re going from closet to out and proud in what seems like seconds. It seems like too much all at once.”
“I thought you’d be happy,” Meyer said, confused and touched with fear.
“No, I am. And I’m so thrilled for you, and you’ve made me so very happy. But what about all this with the show and Ethan? We dodged a bullet today, and you’re acting like it’s nothing. I’m happy with my life and I know who I am. You’re the one I’m worried about. What are you going to do when the rubber hits the road and things get hard?”
Meyer took a deep breath and released it slowly. “That depends on whether you’re going to be here with me or not.” He sat down in the chair. “I’ll send a message to Ethan and tell him that I’ll do an interview if he can arrange it.”
“We’ll do an interview,” I corrected. “I’ll be there with you. That is, if you’re serious about things being you and me?” My gaze was a challenge, but this was a test. And from the smile on Meyer’s lips, I knew he’d passed.
“Okay. Together.” Meyer pulled out his phone and sent a message. “Ethan said he’ll arrange it tonight and give us the details tomorrow.” His phone chimed again. “He also said to say nothing to anyone.” Meyer set down his phone, and I wondered if he was going to collapse right there. This was all becoming very real. “I’m going to have to talk about my feelings and answer questions about my sexuality. Do you know how uncomfortable that is?”
“Yes, I do. But rather than talk about that, just concentrate the talk about us. Tell them how you left and then found me again. Make us the story instead of only you. That way we’re together and you aren’t standing alone.” It was all I could come up with. “And if there’s a question that’s too prying, I’ll jump in and try to say something cute. Let them laugh with me rather than get to the nitty-gritty details.” I squeezed his hand and then hugged him. “I’m so proud of you for doing this. It almost makes the last three years worth it, just to be with you, happy, whole, and honest with yourself.”
Meyer held me tighter. “I’m scared to death.”
“Yeah, but we’ll do it together.” I kept reiterating that to him because I didn’t want Meyer to feel alone for a second. There was a point in every life, at least I thought so, when you felt you were utterly alone, and this was one of those moments. You realized that you were different from most people and that differences weren’t always celebrated. It was so easy to pull back into yourself. I had thought about it more times than I could count, but being out and proud of who you were was more rewarding in the long run. I only hoped this proved to be that for Meyer.
Chapter 10
WHEN ETHAN put his mind and will behind something, he made it happen, that was for sure. Late the following morning, Felix drove Meyer and me to a taping of one of the afternoon talk shows. Because of the time difference, it was actually taped in the morning to be run a few hours later.
“You didn’t sleep at all last night,” I observed, and Meyer nodded. “You need to relax and just be yourself.” Like I should be talking. I had even less experience in front of the cameras than he did, and none whatsoever with this sort of situation. All I could really do was be there for him.
“I’ll be okay.” He turned to me and smiled. It was forced, but he was trying to make an effort for my sake.
“You don’t have to do this. I know it’s what Ethan wants, because it makes his life easier and he doesn’t have to explain things to anyone. But it’s what you want that really counts.”
Meyer sighed and hugged me to him. “That’s what I love about you. To hell with everyone else and what they think. I swear you’d travel to the ends of the earth if it would make me happy. I know that, and maybe it’s time for me to make that same commitment.” He held me a little tighter. “This is the right thing to do.”
“About ten minutes,” Felix said.
I settled next to Meyer, trying to soothe his nerves. Thankfully they seemed to disappear as soon as we reached the studio and were escorted inside and to the green room by an assistant.
Marla Waters was an amazing television host, and she had her audience in the palm of her hand. She wasn’t a shock-and-awe interviewer and didn’t do dysfunctional family dramas or “Who’s the daddy?” shows. She was honest, and that came through to her audience. She could tug at heartstrings better than anyone else on television, so to be sitting in her green room was a surprise and a kind of dream come true.
“Marla is preparing for the show,” an assistant said, “but she’ll be in before taping.” He looked both of us over. “You’re dressed perfectly, so I just need to get you set up for a little makeup and we’ll be ready.” He sat down across from us. “There is nothing to be nervous about.” He smiled brightly.
“Thanks,” I said, and we followed him to
makeup stations. It was surprising how quickly I’d gotten used to this process. Once they were done, we sat and waited, then talked to Marla briefly when she stopped in, until we were called to the stage. The lights went down, and the entire space seemed to glow with excitement and energy.
“Thank you all!” Marla said as the applause died down. “We have a special show for you today. Two of the judges from the upcoming season of Cooking Masters are here with us today. It’s my pleasure to introduce acclaimed chef Meyer Thibodeau and the fabulously funny blogger of The Pickiest Eater in America, Luke Walker.”
The audience applauded as we walked on stage. As soon as the lights hit us, I understood what it felt like to be on total display and, dang, I had to stop myself from turning around and running away. It was frightening.
“Welcome, gentlemen,” Marla said, shaking hands with both of us and offering us chairs. “How is the new season of Cooking Masters progressing? I know I’m looking forward to it.” She leaned closer. “Can you tell us who’s in the lead?”
Meyer leaned nearer to her as though he was going to share a secret. “My lips are sealed.”
“And so are mine. But seeing you in person, it’s definitely tempting,” I added, and she smiled as she turned back to the audience.
Meyer winked, and Marla laughed. “This season is going to be the best one yet. We have talented chefs and great challenges for them.” Meyer turned forward toward the camera. “But there have been a number of challenges that aren’t all in the kitchen.”
Marla nodded slowly. “Yes. I understand there has been some drama surrounding this season.”
Meyer cleared his throat, and I had to stop myself from reaching over to take his hand. I could feel his nerves and wanted to comfort him. “Yes, there has, and, well… things have gotten a little out of hand in that department.” Meyer sat back, trying to get comfortable, but that wasn’t happening in these stage chairs, which must have been designed to ensure that no guest wanted to sit in them for an entire show. “You see, Luke and I knew each other before I left Philadelphia for Los Angeles. That was, what…?”
“About three years ago,” I supplied.
“Yes. And I never forgot him. I wasn’t consulted, but there he was, and Luke and I were working together.” Meyer held his breath and grew quiet.
“Did something happen between you?” Marla asked, but Meyer swallowed hard.
“Yes. We snarked at each other like there was no tomorrow,” I answered, and the audience snickered softly. “I picked on him like crazy, teased, and was generally nasty.”
“I deserved it,” Meyer clarified with a smile. “See, I left him.” Meyer turned to me, and in that brief moment, lost in Meyer’s gaze, the audience disappeared. “Luke and I were lovers back in Philadelphia, and I was too afraid back then of who I was to accept myself and what I had.” Meyer’s voice broke a little, but he seemed to recover. “When I got the chance, I left, and we hadn’t seen each other until a few months ago.”
“I hadn’t forgotten him, and it seems Meyer hadn’t forgotten me either.” I took his hand.
“Well, I’ll be. Are the two of you together now?”
Meyer nodded slowly and then turned more forward, still holding my hand. “Once I pulled my head out of my butt and realized what I’d lost, I also knew I didn’t want to let him go again.” He seemed to finally relax a little. “There has been someone on the set stirring up drama, and once I figured some things out and Luke decided that I was worth taking a chance on again, I thought it best to be straight—if you’ll pardon the pun—with the world.”
The audience laughed, and some of the tension that had been building seemed to dissipate.
“Meyer is an amazing man and an incredible chef—”
“And I thought cooking was going to be enough for me.” Meyer turned to me. “It wasn’t.” He smiled, and we looked at Marla.
“He can still cook better than anyone I’ve ever met.” I realized just what I’d said and how I’d said it. The audience tittered, and I blushed. “And I mean that in every way possible. He’s hot in and out of the kitchen.” I was finally starting to feel a little more comfortable.
“And Luke has an incredible blog.”
“How many of you have read it?” Marla asked, and a number of hands went up before the audience broke into applause. “I have to admit that I hate bananas too.”
“They’re the devil’s fruit,” I chimed in before getting serious. “We all have food issues, and I just decided to start talking about mine.”
“Does this season of Cooking Masters revolve around the foods you don’t like?” Marla asked.
I shivered visibly, and a laugh went through the audience. “You’re all going to have to tune in to see, but this season is going to be amazing. After all, Meyer is on it, and you might even get to see him cook. Though I can’t give anything away.” I squeezed Meyer’s hand, and he turned to me.
Without thinking, I leaned over to give him a gentle kiss. The audience roared, and the applause was deafening, or it might have been, but I barely heard it. Meyer was right there in front of me, his gaze locked to mine, and that was all that mattered. When he pulled away, Marla was fanning herself.
“Okay, boys. It’s hot enough in here,” she chided with a smile. “Have you decided what’s next for you after Cooking Masters?”
“Luke and I are still figuring a few things out, but I have every confidence that we will. I finally found him again, and I don’t intend to let him go.” Meyer’s smile was radiant.
Marla stood, and Meyer and I did the same. “I want to thank both of you for coming on the show today. You’re an amazing couple, and I wish you both well on this season of Cooking Masters.” She kissed each of us on the cheek as the audience applauded, and we then exited the stage. Once we were back in the green room, I hugged Meyer and grinned.
“We did it. You did it,” I whispered, ignoring the few others in the room.
Meyer kissed me, harder this time. “I love you, Luke. I don’t know if I’ve told you that, but I do, and I intend to make sure that I show you just how much every day.” He held me tightly once again. “I think you and I can go back to the set now. Ethan is probably going out of his mind with only Rachel around. She’s been unbearable.”
“Yup. Let’s go.” I took Meyer by the hand, and we headed out to where Felix was waiting at the car. I told him how things went after we climbed inside, and he fought rush-hour traffic all the way back to the studio.
Ethan paused shooting when the interview aired. The chefs seemed pleased for us, and so did most of the crew. The one person who stayed back, stewing, was Rachel, which was expected, I guess. We had stolen her thunder, and now all she had was her bitterness and most likely unemployment.
“God, I can’t believe they bought that crap,” Rachel muttered as she stormed toward the door of the viewing room. “Don’t we have an episode to finish?” she practically screeched, and I shook my head.
“That’s not the way to endear yourself to the people who will decide your future.”
“Didn’t you hear?” Justin asked. “The producers officially gave her the ax. This is her last season with the show, so she’s going to be a witch from hell until this is over. Ethan did warn her that he would figure a way to write her out of the show.” Justin turned away. “He threatened to tell the audience she had a case of cholera or something.” He chuckled, and I couldn’t help doing the same. She had been helpful and nice when I arrived, and I hated to see what was happening to her. It was like Rachel was falling apart in front of our eyes.
“I guess.”
“There’s better news, but I need to let him tell you or he’ll have my nuts.” Justin hurried away, and I watched him, wondering again if he was behind the notes and the drama, and what he expected to get out of it.
“Let’s finish this episode,” Meyer said, and we returned to the set with smiles on our faces.
“IT’S BEEN amazing,” I told Clare on the phone af
ter we had reviewed everything for the blog.
“I saw the interview, and I have to say, I never thought he would do it.” She was as serious as a heart attack. “I didn’t think he had it in him, and look now. He actually came out, talking about the show, and social media is aflutter about you two. It’s almost all positive, and believe it or not, we’ve started to get emails and messages of support through the blog. One reader even said that you and Meyer make an adorable couple and that her son saw the interview and turned to her to tell her that he was gay.” Clare choked up a little, and I felt the same tickle in my throat. “Meyer finally grew a set.”
“That’s a little harsh.” But probably held a ring of truth.
“Have you decided what you’re going to do once the show is over? I saw that you were still deciding. There isn’t a lot here for you, and I could still help you if you want to relocate.”
“Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“Nope. But you’re happy. I can hear that. How is the show going? Are you almost done?”
“We’re getting there. The competition is heating up, and things are getting—” I cut myself off. I wasn’t going to talk about any of the drama on the set, which had ramped up every single damn day.
“Get off the phone—we’re waiting on you,” Rachel snapped as she passed.
I rolled my eyes. “I need to go, but I’ll call you soon.” I ended the call and followed Ms. Openly Hostile to the judging, which was painful.
“I disagree,” Rachel said after Meyer expressed his opinion. Then I expressed mine, and she argued. The guest judge looked at all three of us as though we had grown two heads each, and clammed up, probably afraid to say anything in case she came after him.
“What do you think, Greg?” Meyer asked gently, after a glare at Rachel.
Greg finally expressed his opinion, which coincided with Meyer’s and mine. That sent Rachel into yet another pout, but at least we had a decision. Ethan seemed relieved, and after filming the final awards and elimination, we wrapped for the night.
