Part 6: Rebirth
He kissed me! I could hardly believe it had happen, but I replayed the
sensation in my mind and my stomach flip-flopped. Half of me was
euphoric, the other half was still cursing my own stupidity. Why
couldn't this have happened when I was stone cold sober? I resolved
then and there to give up drinking. At least when I was around Scott!
Then it struck me that I was already assuming that I'd be around him
more in the future. At that moment, though, I could think of nobody
I'd rather be with. I could only smile dumbly up at him.
"Feel better?" He asked, laughter in his voice. I nodded. "Cool.
Now, how about some coffee?"
"Oh, sorry. What must you think of me, I'll make some." I made to
stand up but he put his hand on my shoulder and gently pressed me back
into the seat. Probably just as well, I think I probably would have
fallen flat on my face if I'd stood up just then.
"Stay put, I'll get it." He took his jacket off and tossed it over the
back of a chair as he left for the kitchen. Once there I could hear
him examining the contents of my cupboards. Eileen's words about
microwaved takeout came back to me and I realized there was next to
nothing in the whole place to eat. He rattled around making coffee for
a bit and shortly came back in and handed me a cup. He put a glass of
water on the coffee table in front of me and indicated that I should
drink that too. There was a prolonged silence, at first because I was
drinking and he was watching me but then it dragged out for longer and
I suddenly felt I had to say something.
"You kissed me."
"You noticed. Was that wrong?"
"No. No, it, um, surprised me is all."
"I like to surprise people." There was a mischievous grin on his face
now and I got the feeling he was teasing me. I lapsed back into
silence as we drank our coffee.
"Thanks for looking after me, Scott. I feel such a fool getting drunk
like this. And I know I was babbling and slurring and all the rest.
My friend Dale says I drink far too much. Thanks."
"My pleasure, you bring out my paternal instincts." He reached for the
now empty cup I was turning round and round in my hands. "I'll wash
these, don't go away."
"Don't bother."
"No bother" And with that he left the room again and I heard water
running in the kitchen. Use the dishwasher, I thought.
I woke with the worst headache I can remember having. Why had I been
drinking? Suddenly I remembered the date with Scott, coming home and
falling apart on him. That explained the headache at least, when I've
been crying it always makes me feel congested and sort of sore headed
the next day. The next day? Hang on, what happened to Scott? Where
was I? I gave voice to this last thought, though somewhat hoarsely.
"Where am I?" I opened my eyes and realized I was in my room, in my bed
and in a state of undress. Well shorts and T-shirt, but I had
definitely been wearing more the last I remembered. I stared up at the
ceiling, waiting for events to come back into order and the room to
come into focus.
"It lives." A voice said from across the room. Scott's voice. Oh God!
Could I have been so drunk I slept with him and couldn't remember?
What a nightmare of a day this was shaping up to be. I struggled up
from being flat on my back and propped myself on my elbows, focusing on
where his voice had come from. He was sitting on a chair next to my
wardrobe, fully clothed.
"What happened?"
"Did I take advantage of you, you mean? Only if you have a problem with
me sketching you. Oh, and I guess I stole about six sheets of your
paper too." He tossed a notepad onto the bed next to me and flashed me
that amazing grin again. Looking at the pad it was a pretty good
sketch, marred by the lines on the page and the fact it was done with a
ball-point, but the situation was suitably bizarre to make me laugh out
loud. The moment I did I regretted it, my head throbbed and I groaned
loudly. "You sound about as good as you look, buddy."
"Thanks."
"S'okay. Why don't you relax, I'll make you some breakfast." I know I
should have protested but I couldn't be bothered, so I flopped back
into my pillows as he stood to leave. He stuck his head back round the
door, "Oh, there's a glass of water and some aspirin on your left,
thought you might need them." He was right, but I was just going to
lie still for a bit before I tried to take pills. I'm not sure how
long I lay there, time was a bit disjointed, my head ached, and trying
to remember the events of the previous night was just making it worse.
Eventually though he returned carrying a tray and came and sat down on
the edge of my bed. Juice, toast and scrambled eggs, what a guy!
"I could get used to this." I said moving the tray into a more
comfortable position.
"Breakfast in bed?"
"Sure, that too." I attempted another smile and found that it didn't
hurt as much as before. "I was talking about having a gorgeous man in
my bed."
"On. I have never been IN your bed." I was about to respond when he
spoke again. "Yet." I expected another devilish grin, but it never
came, he just looked straight at me. I felt very awkward and had to
look down at the tray for a moment to compose myself.
"So anyway." He broke the moment and I was able to look up at him
again. "I went to wash the cups and when I came back you were
unconscious, I tried to wake you, but you really were out for the
count. So I carried you through here and got you into bed, after that
there didn't seem much more I could do so I grabbed a blanket and went
to sleep on the sofa."
"So how come you ended up in here drawing me while I drooled into my
pillow? It's really good, by the way, can I keep it?"
"Sure you can. I woke up about eight, came to check on you and you were
still out. But you looked so peaceful and sweet - all the lines had
smoothed out - so I decided to draw you. I found the pad and pen by
the phone in the hall." By the time he finished the explanation I had
wolfed down the food and was just killing off the orange juice.
"Thanks again then. I guess I owe you big time now."
"Nah, best Friday night I've had in a long time!"
"Ha ha. Are you busy today? I want to do something to make it up to
you." He raised an eyebrow at me and cocked his head on one side.
"What did you have in mind?"
"Nothing untoward, I assure you! My intentions are strictly honorable."
"Damn." That smile again.
"Funny. Actually, I don't know, ask me after I have a shower and feel a
bit more human." I hauled myself out of bed and made my way to the
bathroom. "I won't be long."
"Okay."
I felt so much better after the shower and a change of clothes. But the
question remained, what was I going to do to make up for last night? I
wandered out of my room to find him. He was in the kitchen, washing up
the breakfast things. This was too much.
"I have a dishwasher, you know."
"Yeah, but I couldn't figure out what setting to use, so I did it the
old fashioned way." He looked slightly embarrassed, and rightly so.
"Let me see if I understand this. You spend your working day fixing
office equipment, but you can't understand my dishwasher?"
"Um, yeah." He looked sheepish, and for the first time since I had met
him I was acutely aware of how much younger he was. He pulled himself
together quickly though, "Listen, before we embark on your magical,
mystery tour can we swing past my place so I can change too?"
"Of course. I'm still not sure where I'm going to take you yet."
"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. You about ready?" The old
self-confidence was back and Scott was once more in control.
"Yes, just let me put on some shoes."
We chatted about nothing much on the drive to his place, which was on
the other side of town, even touching on the weather at one point.
Eventually he told me to turn right and stop at the third building down
the street, which I did and we arrived outside a pretty shabby looking
apartment building.
"Welcome to my humble abode," he said with a wry, almost apologetic
smile, "copier repair doesn't pay as well as you might think." I
followed him up the stairs, again taking time to admire the way clothes
hung on his body. All right, I'll be honest, I was checking out his
ass, so sue me. He pulled out his keys and opened the door into chaos.
"You've been robbed." I observed as I looked around.
"Funny, I just need to tidy up a bit." The room was a mess. There were
books and papers in piles all over the floor, and dozens of sketches
and photographs taped to the walls. What little furniture there was
had clothing piled on it. Clearly Scott didn't have many visitors.
"You obsessed about washing a plate at my place and you live in this?"
"Its clean, I just haven't got everything sorted out since I moved in.
I need to get some bookcases, a wardrobe, you know stuff like that.
But I know where everything is."
"I believe you. So should I just squat on the floor while you get
ready?" He frowned at me briefly before sweeping a great pile of
papers off one of the chairs. As I sat down he sorted through the
clothes and pulled a pair of jeans and a shirt from a pile. I had to
admit, under the untidiness it did seem clean and the pile of clothes
had obviously been washed just recently.
"Back in a minute."
I was left alone so I got up again and examined the pictures on the
walls (and every other flat surface, horizontal or vertical!), many of
them were of the scenes or people in the photographs, some of them were
just patterns and designs, but all of them were good. I heard water
running somewhere and knew I had time to poke around a bit if I wanted
to (I love other people's houses), but I decided I should control
myself and instead picked up a large sketch book from the top of a pile
and sat down. I was flipping through it looking at the various doodles
and sketches when I found one that looked familiar. It was of me! He
must have done it that first day, after he came to my office.
I stared at it for ages, wondering what it meant, what was its
significance. Sure it was of me, which meant he had really noticed me.
But then, looking around, he sketched pretty much everything he ever
saw. Well, maybe not quite. The water shut off and I quickly replaced
the book on the pile as he ambled back in. He looked fantastic in
casual clothes, they fit him wonderfully and his shirt was open
revealing a smooth, tanned body. Perfectly proportioned as I had known
it would be. I heard myself draw my breath in sharply and desperately
hoped he hadn't through the vigorous toweling he was giving his hair.
"Hey, handsome. How about some lunch, then a movie or something?" I
was as light as I thought I could be, but I was aware of the look he
shot me at the word 'handsome'.
"Sounds great. But how about holding the movie until later and hitting
the museum first?"
"The museum?"
"Yeah, they've got that exhibition of Egyptian stuff just now. I'd love
to see it, and I guess you might like to as well."
"Actually I would, how did you know that?"
"I had plenty of time to browse your bookshelves, remember?" He
discarded the towel he'd been using and patted his hair into place with
his hands. No styling, just a rough parting and did it ever look good!
"Of course you did. Doh! Well that's great then, I didn't want to
suggest it in case it wasn't your thing. I didn't want to bore you."
"Totally my thing. But only if you're feeling up to it." He buttoned
up and tucked in his shirt.
"I feel a lot better." Despite all this provocation, I felt I was
handling the conversation pretty well.
"You're certainly more lively than you were! And maybe coming out of
that shell of yours a bit, too?" A joke, but he was right, I'd never
have dared to speak to another guy a week ago the way I was talking to
him now. Come to that, its pretty unlikely I'd have been sitting in
bed chatting to a guy who just cooked me breakfast a week ago either.
Clearly this was a time of change!
We left his apartment and drove back across town for lunch, I wanted to
go to a seafood place that I absolutely adore and he seemed happy to
agree. All through lunch we chatted about everything and anything (I
stayed on water the whole time!) and he made a lot of jokes about the
night before. It didn't seem to annoy me though, I liked his smile and
his laugh way too much to want him to stop, even if it was me he was
laughing at. After a leisurely lunch we abandoned my car and strolled
through the park towards the museum.
It was an amazing exhibition, I've been into Egypt since I was a kid and
I first read about the slaves building the mighty pyramids. I even
took a course on the middle kingdom at college, so I was pretty well
informed about the period. Scott seemed fascinated by everything I
told him and I soon found myself lecturing away as we moved from case
to case, he was hanging on my every word. I was having a great time.
The only fly in the ointment came about an hour into the visit when he
bounded enthusiastically up to me to tell me about a burial mask on the
other side of the room. He was like a puppy with a toy and he was keen
to share. "Come and see it, man, its awesome." And he grabbed my hand
to lead me over. I was stunned, there were other people around, how
could he be doing this? I jerked my hand back sharply and instantly
hated myself for doing it when I saw the look on his face, like I had
slapped him.
"God! I'm sorry, Mike, I didn't think, PDAs..." He was apologizing to
me? I was the one behaving like an idiot. I knew that, but when he
touched me I just panicked. I don't know why. His explanation trailed
off and I realized that I was standing staring, open-mouthed, at my
hand. I looked up at him and his face was red with embarrassment. The
last thing I wanted to do was make him feel bad for being friendly. I
forced a big smile and tried to sound normal.
"Show me this mask!" And I did something I never thought I'd have the
courage to do, I took his hand. His face lit up, and my heart swelled
in my chest at the thought that I had the power to make that happen.
|