Page 15 of This Thing With Charlie

I made all that up because the window was for him, and he needed a good kitchen, one that he had planned himself.

“I’m not moving in with you,” he said like he could read all my thoughts.

“I haven’t asked you to,” I muttered.

“I can recommend a good builder, and my mate, Geoff, is a kitchen fitter. He also owns a gay bar. Handy bloke to know. “

“I’m not gay,” I said, hoping it would make him smile.

“I’m not gay either,” he said back, staring at me.

“Oh, fuck off, Charlie.” I laughed. “I wish you were here, and I wish you could just come and make me dinner and make me feel better about this rat-infested shithole I’ve bought. It needs razing to the ground and then smashed to rubble, and then, perhaps, it would be more liveable than it is now. I have a bucket upstairs in a room where the roof is leaking and rat droppings in the downstairs toilet, and I think there is something nesting in the loft too. Charlie, I’m fucked.”

“I know you are,” he said softly, “but I still won’t be your big mistake. I’m not something you can try out and return when you figure out that I am just a crazy idea in your head. I’m worth more than that.”

“You’re worth more than a hook-up in a bathroom.”

“Touché.” He smiled.

“I’m glad you’re with your family.”

“I am too. Graham is having a ball. My brother’s wife is making him do all the cooking. My brother has gone out to get the Christmas tree, and the kids are high from eating an entire chocolate advent calendar. They apparently forgot about it this month, and yeah, it was full-on carnage earlier.”

“When you are back, will you come and see me?”

“I want to see the house and laugh at the state of the place.”

“You’re mean.”

“I’ll text you the name of a builder. Went to school with me. Decent bloke.”

“Thank you.”

I felt calmer with him smiling at me.

“I’ll be back for New Year’s. If you’re lucky, I’ll bring you a sprig of mistletoe.”

“That… sounds good. Promising.”

“I’m not your boyfriend.”

“Got it.”

“I won’t be your bi-curious thing.”

“Okay.”

“Just let me get over you, and then? Then we’ll figure it out. Okay?”

“I think you’re amazing. Just so you know,” I said in desperation. “I think you’re beautiful and smart and so bloody brilliant at everything. I just wanted you to know that because you are. And I know I’m pathetic and confused and not in a good place, but maybe, as you say… maybe, one day…”

“Merry Christmas,” he said.

“Merry Christmas, my Charlie.”

“Daniel?”

“Yeah?”

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