Page 13 of Lost Little Boy
Chapter Seven
Perry
As I took in the front of the fancy hotel, I realized immediately that I wouldn’t fit in. I regretted agreeing to go with Wex for dinner because if that restaurant was a place he liked to go, then we had no reason to go to Pride Camp together. It was dumb for me to ask him in the first place, and as I turned to Wex, I could see he’d reached the sameconclusion.
“I’m sorry, Perry. I didn’t think… I’d hoped to impress you. I thought this place would… I don’t know what I thought. I’m sorry.”
He took my hand and led me out of the entrance. The valet had moved his fancy car to a space in front of the hotel. Wex walked over to the guy and spoke, handing him some money in exchange for the keys.
“There’s a chocolate souffle ordered for Grassley that they’re going to charge to my credit card. Go into the restaurant and tell them I gave it to you. Enjoy it, and thanks.” The guy smiled and gave Wex a nod.
Wex walked over and stood in front of me, taking my hand. “I know a great place that serves breakfast all day. Come on.”
No doubt, I had nothing in common with Wex, but his expression showed he was embarrassed about the fancy restaurant he’d tried to take me to. I didn’t want him to feel bad about the assumptions he’d made, so I followed him and got into his car.
I wasn’t sure what to say, but Wex filled the silence for me. “That’s the first time I’d ever been there, but I should have known if my parents liked the place, I wouldn’t. Next time I’ll read the reviews beforehand.”
He drove out to Springfield, an area I knew pretty well, and he took us to Dick & Jane’s Spot. It was a fifties-stylediner that I’d gone to for breakfast once. They had incredible Belgian waffles.
We got out of the car; this time I didn’t wait for Wex to open the door. I could do it myself. I wasn’t a kid.
After we were seated, Wex stared at me for a minute. “I’m sorry about that restaurant. I’ve gone to places like that before when I had clients to entertain, but I prefer simpler places. Honestly, I’m not that much of a French food fan.”
I could tell he wasn’t telling the truth. “Sir, you didn’t have to take me anywhere. You and me, we come from different worlds. My father was a coal miner, and your father owns an international company. Mr. Burger explained to me what Grassley Industries does not long after I started working there.”
Wex rubbed the back of his neck as he glanced down at the table for a second. Our server came over with glasses of water. “What can I get you, gentlemen?” She had a nice smile.
I ordered the waffles with link sausage. Wex ordered a western omelet with bacon. When the server left, Wex gave me a smile. “If you’re from Tennessee, how’d you end up in northern Virginia?”
The only people who knew my story were those who played a part in it, and not all of them knew everything.Why should I tell a guy I’d only met a month ago? “A lot of bad luck.” I picked up my glass and took a healthy sip of water, signaling I wasn’t answering him any further. I didn’t need his pity.
“Ah. Close to the vest. I got it. So, uh, do you have any hobbies?” Wex pulled a few napkins from the stainless dispenser on the table, putting some in front of me and taking the rest for himself. It was a nice gesture.
Hobbies? I couldn’t share those with him, that was for sure. What adult did art projects, played with cars and blocks, and watched cartoons, unless they were playing with their kids?
“Don’t really have time for hobbies.” It was apparent the only way I could get him to stop prying into my life was to talk about his. “How about you? Do you have any hobbies?”
“Uh, well, I travel internationally a lot, but when I’m home—I live in New York—I like to play tennis. I swim and work out, and I play soccer in an LGBTQIA+ league in Central Park during the summer. Well, I play backup because I’m not always around, but the team always has someone out for summer vacation, so I get to play as much as I’d like.” He seemed at ease talking about his life. I didn’t know if I’d ever feel the same.
“I don’t know how to play soccer. I never learned.” When I was young, I was too busy doing chores to do anything that was fun, plus, I didn’t go to a regular school—we were homeschooled. I didn’t do any of the things other people did or at least what I imagined they did. Saying it to myself sounded pathetic.
“Really? I’m surprised. I thought all boys learned how to play soccer in school. Well, it’s not that big a deal. I played basketball in high school, but I wasn’t good at it.” He was so tall that it surprised me he wasn’t basically a pro. But then again, what was it they said about stereotyping people?
I chuckled. “Obviously, basketball wasn’t my game either.” I was five six. I’d heard Nora say I was height challenged once when she had to reach for something on the top shelf of the cabinet for me. I didn’t appreciate hearing it.
“Eh, unless you’re seven feet tall and athletic, I don’t think it’s most people’s game—well, except Steph Curry of the Warriors, but the man’s a phenom.”
I had no idea who Steph Curry was, but I didn’t say so. I knew I was pitiful, and I didn’t keep up with pop culture, sofish out of waterwas a great way to describe me.
“Look, sir, you don’t have to make small talk with me. I don’t watch television often because we didn’t have onewhen I was growing up, and I only get to watch it now when my roommates aren’t around. I don’t follow sports, and I don’t have any friends. I’m what some call an odd duck.”
The server stepped over to the table with our plates, but my appetite was gone. “May I have that to go?”
“Where are you going?” Wex grabbed my wrist as I started to get up.
Our server, Maryellen, stared at me. “Are you in trouble? Do I need to call the cops?”
I glanced at Wex’s hand on my wrist and saw where Maryellen could have jumped to the wrong conclusion. “No. It’s fine. I’ll eat here.” I definitely didn’t want to get Wex in trouble because of a misunderstanding with our server.
