Page 44 of Torn
“Ever made love on a pool float?”
“Ever fallen asleep looking up through a skylight at a New England country sky?”
“Ever woke to a man making you fresh ground coffee in a french press? And an omelet with herbs from a garden and homegrown tomatoes and spinach?”
“Ever drifted off with a man’s arms around you and a chilly, but sweet, fresh breeze blowing in through the open window?”
I sighed. It did sound tempting. And I could charge a plane ticket. I mean, I shouldn’t run up my credit card any more than I had. But hey, it wasn’t maxed out. Yet. And when did opportunities like this come my way?
“You’d fly into Boston, grab the T into town, and then there’s an easy bus up to New Hampshire. I don’t have a car, but I have a friend, Camille, who can pick you up at the station and then deliver you to me, like a pizza. And, like a pizza, I will devour you while you’re still hot.”
“I’m always hot. And I have a very nice pepperoni, if I may say so.”
“You may, because it’s true. So, what do you think, Ricky? Can I count on you? After we spend a few days up at the retreat, we can come back to Boston, and I can show you around. You’ve never been, right?”
“I’ve never been.” And I’d always wanted to visit, back from the time I was accepted to Emerson College on the Charles River and my parents told me that they were proud of me but the school was out of reach for them financially. My heart still ached about that one.
“Well then, come. Beyond a plane ticket, I promise you won’t have to buy another thing.”
“So you understand I’m just a poor boy.”
He laughed. “We are not going there. I know Queen lyrics too. And ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ is my favorite of theirs. I’m sure somebody loves you.”
Aw, now that was sweet. I was warming more and more to this idea. It was indeed a possibility.
And I did want to see Walt again, despite all the deluxe and romantic promises. Just seeing him once more would be amazing. And maybe it would help me sort out my rapidly developing feelings for both himandTom.
But then seeing Tom again would also be amazing. And he was only a few L stops away. Easier access. Cheaper.
Sexier? Oh, who knew?
“Listen, I’m gonna be late for work. Can I check into flights and get back to you?”
“Sure. I’ll take that as a yes?”
“Maybe. Have a good day, Walt. I’ll call you either later today or tomorrow, okay?”
“You better.”
We hung up, and I thought of two roads diverging in a wood.
I CALLEDWalt the next night, hoping he wouldn’t answer. But he did.
I’d been about to leave a message saying I’d checked into flights and they were simply beyond my very meager budget, which was true. I hadn’t actually checked but had decided, as I sat writing copy for a walnut credenza, that I was chasing after a pipe dream in getting together with Walt again. I was spending money I simply didn’t have. I was pursuing a love that logic told me couldn’t come to be.
And then there was Tom. We’d had only one night together. I had one-night stands all the time, more than I cared to admit. But this one had been special, not only because the sex was red-hot supernova, but because there was something about Tom that was the polar opposite of Walt. He was simple and good. Not that Walt wasn’t good, but he was definitely a lot more complicated, which both repelled and drew me near. Go ahead and make that moth to a flame comparison. It’s apt.
But the point was that there were plenty of fish in the Chicago sea, and I had a good one, maybe, on the hook. I didn’t need to travel a thousand miles for a man or even for a city as charming and historic as I’d always heard Boston was. Or a weekend retreat at a sumptuous getaway in New Hampshire where I could fall asleep with a man’s arms around me, staring up at the stars.
Oh shit.
“Hey, Walt, it’s me.”
“I’ve been waiting for your call. So? Did you book a ticket?”
The refusal, the sensible and financially prudent thing to do, was right on the tip of my tongue. “Yes,” I said. “I sure did.”
I could hear him clapping. “You don’t know how happy this makes me.”
