Page 63 of Goodbye Paradise
Summer
“Well…” Maggie said, turning slowly in a circle so that she could see each dingy wall of the little dumpy apartment. “A coat of paint would go a long way. The floors aren’t bad. They look original.”
I could read on her face, though, that she did not approve of the tiny little hovel in downtown Pittsfield that we’d brought her to see.
At this point, I was finding it hard to stay positive about our search for a new home. There were so few apartments for rent in our quiet region of Massachusetts. And when you factored in the budget that Caleb and I needed to stick to, the choices got squalid in a hurry.
“The kitchen is the worst part,” Caleb admitted. “That stove looks a hundred years old.”
Maggie cleared her throat, and I could feel her reaching for something positive to say. “A stove is a pretty simple machine. So that doesn’t bother me so much. But this place is just sosmall. One tiny bedroom, and there’s not even a closet. I suppose you could ask Daniel to make you a set of bunk beds instead of twin beds. Just like college kids have.”
At this point, my shoes became suddenly fascinating. Because the size of the bedroom was not, of course, a problem for Caleb and I. We wanted to move out of Maggie’s house so that we could frequently inhabit a very compact portion of our bed.
But of course I couldn’t say that.
Maggie didn’t notice my discomfort, though. Because she had more issues with the apartment than the bedroom. Thank the Lord.
“Then there’s thatbathroom. I’ve never seen a smaller shower stall. I just don’t see how two men could live here and not kill each other. Why don’t you just save up some more money, and try again in six months?”
Again, the truth was not a good option.We need to have a lot of very loud sex.
“We, uh…” Caleb started. “We can’t lean on you guys forever. I thought that crappy first apartments were a rite of passage, anyway. That’s what the guys at the garage tell me.”
Maggie paced in a circle. (A very small circle. Because she wasn’t wrong about the size of this tiny, dark, run-down place.) “Can I take you two out for coffee before you make your decision? I need to run something by you, anyway.”
“All right,” I said, heading for the door. I’d been excited to move out until we showed her the space. Truthfully, I couldn’t picture Caleb and I here, either. What was I supposed to do all day? Caleb was still in the market for a used car, which he could drive to work at the garage. But that meant I’d be stuck in this neighborhood alone. Whatever job I found would have to be in walking distance.
Downtown, Pittsfield, Massachusetts was not a bustling commercial district. Finding a job would not be easy. As we walked into the dark-paneled coffee shop, I evaluated it as a potential employer. Would they need an inexperienced, slightly quiet, secret queer at the cash register?
Probably not.
Maggie ordered a latte and Caleb ordered plain coffee, black.
“I’m fine,” I said when it was my turn. As the non-wage-earner among us, I didn’t want them to pay for an overpriced coffee for me.
“He wants a chocolate chip cookie,” Maggie said to the cashier, taking out her wallet.
“But…”
She held up a hand to silence me. “I’m celebrating something, okay? Don’t kill my buzz. In fact,” she said to the cashier, “add one more coffee, and a second cookie.”
When our order was ready, we sat around one of the little tables together. Maggie broke off a piece of cookie and pushed the plate toward Caleb and I. “Guys, I have to run something by both of you. Hear me out, okay?”
I nodded, taking a chunk of cookie off the plate. I chased it with a sip of hot coffee, and the combination was, to be fair, exquisite.
“Cecilia has made me an offer that I’m having trouble refusing.”
“What’s that?” I asked. Cecilia was her caterer friend.
“She wants Cecilia’s Catering to become Cecilia & Maggie’s Catering.”
Caleb grinned. “That’s kind of a long title,” he said. “I don’t know if it will all fit on the side of the van.”
I reached over and gave Caleb a playful shove on the shoulder. “Don’t listen to him, Maggie. I think that’s great. She wants you to be her partner?”
She beamed. “Yes! There will be more hours, but nottoomany more. And the pay will be so much better. But that’s where you come in, Josh. I’ll need more babysitting. And now I can actually pay you, because you’re legal.”
“Wow. Okay.” Could Maggie solve my employment problem? Just like that? “But…” I swallowed another cup of coffee. “I’ll have to commute to you if we’re living in Pittsfield.” And that meant a second car, which we couldn’t afford.
