To Live Again (10 page)

Finally, I managed to murmur, “I should go.”

“I’ll see you later.”

I nodded and headed for the door, and after I’d put on my shoes and made my way out to my car, I tried to shake off the conspicuous absence of “I love you” and “I love you too.” Mostly because I couldn’t remember when those had stopped being part of going our separate ways, whether one of us was getting on a plane or heading to work.

I turned on the engine and turned up the radio. As I backed out of the driveway, I wondered if her new man would be here soon. Parked where I’d been parked. And after next weekend, parked on my side of the empty garage.

Well. It didn’t matter. We were moving on. This was our new life. Tonight, she’d be with the guy whose sandals and beers were slowly exorcising my ghost from the house I’d once lived in.

But tomorrow, I thought with a slowly forming smile, I’d be with Sailo.

Chapter Twelve

At the last minute, Sailo had to cancel, but promised we’d meet up the next night. So instead, since Ethan and Rhett had put me up for the time being, and they were going to help me move into my new place this weekend, I took them out to dinner. I planned to take out everyone who was helping me move—the guys, plus their friend Dale and his husband, Adam, and of course Sailo—but I owed these two bigtime. And besides, getting out with them was a nice diversion from the afternoon I’d spent with Becky.

Afterward, we lounged in their living room with beers all around.

“Thanks again,” Ethan said. “That was an amazing meal.”

“Seriously.” Rhett groaned, rubbing his stomach. “Jesus. How had we never heard of that place?”

“Don’t know, but we’re going back.”

I chuckled. “Glad you enjoyed it. I figured I owe you guys for putting me up and helping me out.”

“Don’t mention it.” Ethan tipped his beer bottle toward me. “Happy to help, especially if there’s food like that involved.”

“Amen,” his husband said.

“As much as you guys have been helping, I’ll take you there every night of the week.” I leaned back in my chair. “I will be fucking
thrilled
when this whole thing is over, that’s for sure.”

“I hear that,” Rhett said. “My divorce was an epic pain in the ass.”

“And our split was…” Ethan whistled. “Not fun. So, you have my sympathy.”

Rhett nodded. “Mmhmm.” He took a swallow of beer. “And as far as moving, are you sure one day is going to be enough? I could take Monday off if you need more help.”

“Nah, one day is fine,” I said. “I don’t have
that
much stuff. I’m getting a head start this week too—Sailo’s helping me get a few things from the storage unit to the new place, and then all that’s left to move on Saturday is the big stuff.” I paused. “Thanks again, guys. You’ve been a huge help all along, and it’ll be great to have a couple extra pairs of hands this weekend.”

“Hey, don’t mention it,” Rhett said. “We could probably snag Kieran and Alex too, if you think we’ll need them.”

“Nah.” I waved a hand. “With Adam and Dale helping out, plus you guys, I think we’ve got it covered.”

“Sailo, eh?” Ethan arched an eyebrow. “You’ve been seeing this guy pretty regularly, haven’t you?”

“I noticed that too.” Rhett winked. “Thought you were just hooking up and getting laid.”

I chuckled. “There any rule that says I can’t hook up and get laid with the same guy more than once?”

“Well, no,” Rhett said. “But there’s a reason they’re usually called
one
-night stands.”

“Watch out for him,” Ethan warned with a hint of a smirk on his lips. “One minute, you’re fucking him. The next he’s got a moving van in front of your place full of his stuff.”

Laughing, I gestured dismissively with my beer. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

“Famous last words,” Ethan muttered.

“Spoken from experience?” I asked.

Ethan chuckled.

Rhett rolled his eyes. “That is not how it happened.”

“Okay.” Ethan patted Rhett’s leg. “We waited until the third date, but—”

“Oh, shut up.” Rhett laughed. “He’s full of shit.”

I put up my hand. “I am not getting in the middle of an argument between you two.”

“Smart man,” Ethan muttered.

Rhett smacked his leg, and Ethan laughed.

“
Anyway
,” I said. “Dating is a pretty foreign concept for me as it is. It’s kind of been a while.” I paused, thinking back. “In fact, the only dating I’ve ever done was in high school and the first part of college. Mostly with Becky.”

“You guys married pretty young, didn’t you?” Ethan asked.

“She was nineteen, I was twenty.”

“I was around the same age when I married my daughter’s mom.” Rhett shook his head. “Oh, if I’d only known then what I do now…”

“Preach it,” I grumbled into my beer bottle. After I’d taken a swig, I lowered the bottle and thought for a moment. “You know what’s funny? I’m actually starting to wonder if I’m not bi at all.” I fought the urge to wring my hands. “I think…I think I might be gay.”

“Really?” Rhett asked. “So, you’re not interested in women at all?”

I thought for a moment, then shook my head. “Can’t say I’ve even thought about women lately. No woman’s caught my eye either.”

“Has any
man
caught your eye recently?” Ethan brought his beer bottle up, but stopped at his lips. “Besides Sailo, I mean?”

“Now that you mention it…”

“That’s what I thought.” He took a deep swallow, then set the bottle down. “It could just be because you’re really into this guy. You might be so caught up in him, you’re not noticing anyone else, regardless of gender.”

“Valid point,” I said.

“Wow, Ethan.” Rhett elbowed him and grinned. “That was actually a mature—”

“Oh, shut up.” Ethan rolled his eyes.

“Just saying.” Rhett set his beer on the coffee table and folded his hands in his lap. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much right now if I were you. Just enjoy being with this guy and putting your divorce behind you. There’s plenty of time to figure out what it all means later.”

“True.”

“I mean, I’m bi,” he said. “But it doesn’t really matter because I haven’t been with a woman since before Ethan and I—”

The doorbell rang.

Ethan and Rhett both turned their heads, then eyed each other.

“You expecting anyone?” Rhett asked as he stood.

“No,” Ethan said. “You?”

Rhett shook his head. “I’ll be right back.”

“Well, while he’s doing that…” Ethan collected the empty bottles. “You want another?”

“You know what?” I stood. “I think I will.”

We moved into the kitchen, and Ethan pulled some fresh drinks from the fridge. He opened them and slid one across the island to me. He was about to speak, but Rhett’s voice came from the hallway:

“Hey, look who’s here.”

Ethan and I turned as Rhett’s daughter, Sabrina, and her husband, Tyson, walked in the kitchen with Rhett on their heels.

“Hey, kiddo!” Ethan hugged his stepdaughter. “This is a surprise.” He kissed her cheek and let her go. Gesturing at me, he said, “You remember Greg, right?”

“Of course.” Sabrina smiled. “Good to see you.”

“You too.” I sipped my beer. “Hey, Tyson.”

“What brings you two into the neighborhood?” Rhett asked. “I didn’t think we were going to see you until this weekend.”

“Well, um.” She glanced at her husband. He put his hand on the small of her back, and she faced her fathers again. “We just stopped by for a minute.” She took a small gift bag from her husband and set it on the counter in front of Ethan. “We wanted to drop off your early birthday present.”

“Birthday present?” Ethan cocked his head. “My birthday’s not for another six months.”

“I know.” She pushed it across the counter. “But I wanted to give this to you now.”

“But—”

“Just open it.”

Something about her smile made my heart speed up. As Ethan and Rhett exchanged puzzled looks, I suppressed a grin because I was pretty sure I knew what was coming.

Ethan shrugged. He pushed the tissue paper aside, reached inside, and pulled out a bright yellow coffee mug. “World’s Greatest—” His eyes widened.

Rhett craned his neck, turning the mug slightly so he could see it. His lips parted and his head snapped toward his daughter, who was now grinning so big she started laughing.

“World’s Greatest Grandpa?” Rhett breathed. “Are you serious? You’re…”

Ethan set the mug down, the quiet rattle as it touched the counter giving away the unsteadiness in his hands. “Didn’t I tell you I’m not supposed to be a grandfather before I turn—” His voice caught, and he quickly cleared his throat. “Before I turn fifty?”

She pressed her lips together, shooting him an innocent look as she tried and failed not to smile. “Surprise?”

He laughed and hugged her tight, and though he was probably trying to be smooth and subtle, I caught him wiping his eyes just before he let her go.

Then Rhett gathered his daughter in a bear hug. “Congratulations, baby. Wow.”

While he did that, Ethan shook Tyson’s hand and exchanged smiles with him. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks, Dad.” Tyson beamed.

Watching Rhett and Ethan get choked up and excited over Sabrina’s news was enough to bring tears to my eyes, and it wasn’t just because I was thrilled for them. It was true, wasn’t it—in the wake of a divorce, you just never knew where those reminders would come from, and how far they’d hit below the emotional belt.

My first grandchild had been announced with wringing hands and teary eyes, my daughter convinced we were going to hit the roof and that her life was over. Now that she was married—to my sent-from-heaven son-in-law instead of that useless deadbeat—there was some talk of more kids in the near future. And I hadn’t realized until just now how much I’d looked forward to the announcement that number two was on the way. All of us together, my wife and me congratulating our daughter and son-in-law and making plans to spoil the kid rotten.

When my next grandchild came along, I’d be just as thrilled as I would’ve been before the divorce. But tonight, right now, I indulged in a moment to grieve that little scene I’d imagined.

Becky and I would attend our kids’ college graduations and weddings, and we’d be cordial to each other because the divorce wasn’t a bitter one. Even if it had been, we owed it to our kids to be civil and not make their important days about us. There would probably come a time when we’d bring new partners with us to those events. I’d meet her new boyfriend. She’d meet mine. There wouldn’t be any drama—that just wasn’t who we were—but I wondered if a part of me would still feel that little pang of sadness at one more reminder of our failed marriage.

I shook myself and took a deep swallow of beer. It was weird how the divorce reared its ugly head at the most unexpected moments. In bed with a man? Barely a peep from my subconscious. Watching two of my friends find out they were about to be grandparents? Hold on tight—here goes the roller coaster.

All part of the process, I decided.

All part of the shitty fucking process that was never going to end.

Chapter Thirteen

I met Sailo at his place and parked my car in one of the guest spots beneath his building. From there, we walked to a café a couple of blocks away.

“I’ve been here a million times,” he said as he held the door. “I think you’ll love it.”

As soon as I stepped inside, I believed him. This was one of those places Capitol Hill was known for—kind of quaint, kind of hipster, with food that smelled utterly amazing. If it was anything like the rest of this neighborhood, the food would taste incredible too.

The hostess—who was probably my daughter’s age and had at least half a dozen visible piercings—greeted us with a smile and showed us to a booth near the window.

It was hard to tell if I was just starving, or if the café’s smells were fucking with my head—all I knew was everything on the menu sounded
amazing
.

“So what do you recommend?” I asked.

“Anything except the duck.” He made a face. “This place can make anything, but that? No.”

“Okay, that narrows it down to about three hundred options.”

Sailo laughed. Furrowing his brow and pursing his lips, he scanned the menu. “Hmm. You vegetarian? Gluten-free? Any of that?”

“I’m not big on red meat, but otherwise, anything goes.”

“Well, I guess that rules out the steak salad.” He looked over the list again. “You a salmon fan?”

“
Oh
, yes.”

“You’ll love the…wait…” He turned the menu over and looked at the back, then the front again. “Aw, damn. They don’t have it anymore.”

“What?”

“The salmon filet.” Clicking his tongue, he shook his head. “Those were to die for. But you really can’t go wrong here.”

“Aside from the duck?”

“Yes.” He nodded sharply. “Definitely aside from that. Okay, let’s see what else they have. The lemon chicken is good, pretty much anything they put hazelnuts on is good…”

As we continued looking through the options, I kept glancing at him. How weird was this? A few days ago, we were strangers. Now we were sitting in a restaurant, about to enjoy a leisurely meal together, with another night in the same bed a foregone conclusion. We’d already hooked up a few times, but this felt like an actual date. The kind people went on when they were sizing up a person for more than sex.

Too soon? The ink wasn’t even dry on my divorce papers.

Right. And there was already a man practically living in my house, so it wasn’t too soon.

But was it too soon for me? Was I ready for dating? Not just exploring this uncharted side of my sexuality, but…dating?

I looked across the table at the beautiful, tanned, black-haired man who’d been burning up the sheets with me lately. What did dating really mean? Spending more time with him. Getting to know him. More of that addictive sex.

Yeah. I was ready for this. Even if it
was
only sex and nothing more, I was ready. Because damn it, whether this thing was a brief rebound fling or stuck around for a while, it felt good to be with someone who was interested in being with me, in
or
out of the bedroom.

It sure beat the hell out of moping around at “home.”

We finally settled on our meals and closed our menus. A moment later, the waitress appeared.

“What can I get you?” she asked.

Sailo handed her his menu, looking at her with sad puppy dog eyes. “You don’t have the salmon filets anymore?”

She frowned and shook her head. “They just weren’t selling very well, so it didn’t make sense to keep them in the kitchen.”

“But…but I liked them.”

“I know.” She smiled as sweetly as she could. “That’s also why we took them off the menu.”

I snorted, and he shot me a glares. Then, sighing dramatically, he looked up at her again. “Fine. I guess I’ll settle for the beef tandoori.”

She laughed as she jotted it on her notepad. “I’ll tell the chef to half-ass it just for you.”

He put his hand to his chest. “I’m offended, Lisa. I really am.”

“No, you’re not.” She swatted him playfully with the notepad—obviously, they knew each other—and turned to me. “And for you?”

“How about the chicken bruschetta”

“Got it.” She noted it and smiled. “Anything else?”

“No, thanks,” I said.

“Not for me either.”

“Wasn’t asking you, dear.”

They exchanged glares, then laughed, and she headed back to the kitchen.

“I take it you come here often?” I said.

“How’d you guess?”

“Call it a hunch.”

He laughed. “Yeah, I’m here, uh, a lot. But it’s really good food, so…”

“Can’t blame you. I’m kind of looking forward to living in this neighborhood. Seems like the food up on Capitol Hill is amazing.”

“For the most part, yeah.” He rested an elbow on the table. “By the way, sorry I couldn’t meet up last night. My son had a thing at school.”

“Oh no, that’s fine. I was taking care of some shit last night anyway.” I poked at ice cubes in my drink with my straw. “I went out with some friends. And the night before, I had a nice uncomfortable evening of sorting through boxes with my ex-wife.”

Sailo grimaced. “That sounds…fun?”

“It was awkward, but…” I hesitated. “I think I feel better about things now. With my ex.”

“Yeah? How so?”

“I guess…” I thumbed the edge of the table to keep my hands busy. “I guess it really drove home that even though Becky didn’t drop the divorce hammer until recently, we’ve been done for a long time.”

He nodded slowly. “It’s funny how often that happens. A breakup seems to come out of nowhere, but when the shock wears off—”

“You realize the engine’s been knocking and the warning lights have been on for the past thousand miles?”

“Yes. Exactly.” He paused. “How have your kids taken it?”

“They’re not thrilled, but I think they’re doing okay.”

“Probably relieved, to be honest.”

I winced. “You think so?”

“Well, if there was some tension brewing there, they might’ve picked up on it. Even if you didn’t.”

“Does that make me an oblivious idiot?”

“Nah. I think stuff like that’s always harder to see when you’re on the inside. Shit, a couple of my relationships? I thought everything was going great, and then when I looked back, I thought, was I drunk the
whole
time?”

“Still.” I gazed out the window at people and passing cars, trying to ignore my own semitransparent reflection. “I feel like I really did miss some pretty big warnings.”

“They’re hard to see. I mean, if a plane’s engines are on fire, it’s easier to see from the outside than the inside.”

I turned to him, eyes wide. “That’s…kind of a morbid metaphor, but point taken.”

Sailo laughed. “Well, think about it. You’re in the plane, you know something’s wrong, but you don’t know what. Maybe it’s just some turbulence. Maybe it’s something worse. Can’t really tell. If you’re on the outside, you’re like”—he pointed toward the street, as if he were gesturing at an imaginary plane—“whoa, dude. The wings are one fire.”

I couldn’t help laughing. “I definitely hadn’t thought of it that way. But…I’m off the plane now. Ready to move on. And move into a place of my own
finally
.”

“You found one yet?”

I nodded. “I get the keys tomorrow, and next weekend I move in.” Rolling my shoulders, I exhaled. “After that, I think I’ll feel more like I’m actually moving on with my life.”

“Yeah, everything must feel really up in the air right now.”

I nodded. “Big-time.”

“Well, if you need some help moving, let me know.”

“Are you sure?” I chuckled cautiously. “That isn’t against gay dating protocols?”

He laughed. “Eh, maybe it is. But I know what a pain in the ass it is to move, and every extra pair of hands helps.”

“Yeah, true. I, uh, just don’t want to be presuming too much. About this. What we’re doing.”

Sailo smiled. “Relax. I’m offering to help you move, not asking you to move in with me.”

“Okay, fair enough.” I glanced toward the kitchen as the waitress emerged carrying two plates, but she continued past us. Facing Sailo again, I said, “Anyway, enough about my divorce.” I waved the thought away like it was a mosquito. “The sooner it’s behind me, the better. So how did you get into working as a deejay?”

His face lit up. Man, did I admire someone who was still that excited about his job. “I kind of stumbled into it. I mean, I was always into music, and one of my dad’s friends was a deejay who did weddings. He needed some help during the summer, since that’s his busy season, so I went to work for him to make some money when I was a kid.” He laughed. “Doing weddings sucks, but I really enjoyed the deejay work, so I kept at it.” Smiling broadly, he added, “Now it’s all I do.”

“What about Wilde’s? Do you enjoy working there?”

“Oh hell yeah. That place is great. I go in, have an awesome time, and they cut me a check for a lot more than I’d charge for a freelance gig. I can’t complain.” He glanced toward the waitress, but again, she was taking plates elsewhere. “The people I work with are great too. The bartenders are a riot. So…” He shrugged. “I don’t see myself giving up that gig any time soon.”

“I don’t blame you. Sounds like a fantastic job, especially if you still enjoy it after all this time. And you get paid well.”

“Yeah.” Some bitterness crept into his tone. “Tell that to my parents.”

“What? I thought your dad helped you get into this business?”

“He did, but he didn’t think it would be a permanent thing.” He rolled his eyes. “Basically, my parents insist that especially now that I have a kid, I should be looking for more stable work.” He quirked his lips. “Pretty sure they mean ‘more respectable.’”

“I think respectable is seriously overrated. There is absolutely something to be said for spending your life doing something you enjoy.”

“Right? And I do love it. Especially now that Mika, my son…
he
wants to learn how to deejay.” Sailo beamed proudly. “Every time I’m packing up for a wedding or something, he asks to come along.”

“You haven’t brought him?”

“Not yet. He’s not quite old enough. I’m teaching him at home, though. I’ve got an old turntable I don’t use anymore, so I let him practice on that.”

“Yeah? So you think he wants to deejay, or is he into music in general?”

“Hard to tell when he’s this young, but he does seem to have some pretty strong musical aptitude. So his mothers and I, we figured in a year or so, we’ll let him pick a basic instrument and take some lessons.” He shrugged. “I don’t want to put any pressure on him, but he’s interested and seems to have some natural talent, so as long as he’s enjoying it…”

“Good idea. By the way, I think I still have my son’s trumpet and my daughter’s clarinet. If he’s interested in either of those, I can check. He’s welcome to use them, since they certainly aren’t.”

Sailo nodded, smiling. “Thanks. I’ll definitely keep that in mind. Were they into music?”

“They did band when they were in elementary school. They enjoyed it for a while, but they kind of lost interest. My youngest was the more musically inclined one. He started playing guitar in junior high and never stopped.”

“That’s great. Electric? Acoustic?”

“Whatever he can get his hands on. He’s been in a few bands over the years. He says himself he doesn’t think any of them will ever go anywhere, but he enjoys it.”

“That’s good. Very good.”

Our waitress emerged from the kitchen again, and this time, she came right to our table.

“Here’s the chicken bruschetta.” She laid the plate in front of me.

“Oh wow,” I said as I put my napkin in my lap. “That looks and smells awesome.”

“Enjoy!” The waitress put Sailo’s plate down too. “And the beef tandoori. Half-assed, of course.”

“Of course.” They exchanged playful glares, then she patted his arm and left us to our meals.

As I cut off a piece of chicken, I said, “So, you mentioned you got your tattoo while you were in college. What were you studying?”

“Business management, if you can believe it.”

“Really?”

He nodded and took a bite of his beef tandoori.

“Decided it wasn’t for you?”

“Mmhmm.” He took a quick sip of his drink. “I’d rather work weddings every day than spend forty hours a week in a cubicle.”

“Oh, I can’t argue with that.” I took a bite and nearly had to groan as the mix of savory flavors met my tongue. “You weren’t kidding. This is great!”

“Told you.” He winked, and skewered another piece of meat on his fork. “Just wait till you try Brew-Ha, down in Fremont?”

“Oh really? Better than this?”

“Better than anything you’ve ever tasted.”

“Well, now you have my curiosity…”

* * * * *

After a lovely meal, and lingering until the waitress was starting to give us a less good-natured side-eye, we paid the check and walked back to where I’d parked.

“That was really nice,” I said. “Thanks for introducing me to that place.”

“Any time.” He smiled, looking almost shy, which was strange—and insanely cute—on him. “I wouldn’t mind doing this again. You know, just going out.”

“Yeah, same here. Maybe we could try that place you told me about in Fremont.”

“Tell me when, and we will.” He put his hands on my waist and drew me closer. The shyness evaporated in favor of the devilishness that, without fail, turned my knees to liquid. “And, um, going out like this—that’s not to say I’m opposed to everything else. Because I enjoy doing
that
with you too.”

Goose bumps prickled beneath my shirt. “Well, as you say…tell me when, and we will.”

He laughed. “Pity we can’t tonight.”

“Mmhmm.”

“I’ll see you soon, though,” he whispered, and drew me in for a long, light kiss.

“Yeah,” I murmured against his lips. “See you soon.”

* * * * *

In a daze, I drove back to Ethan and Rhett’s. They were watching a movie on the couch, so I said a quick hello and then slipped into my room.

Hands laced behind my head, I lay back on my bed and closed my eyes. Eventually, I’d get undressed, brush my teeth, and get ready to turn in, but for now, I needed a moment. And I wasn’t sure I could concentrate on anything anyway. Not when my mind was all wrapped up in the evening I’d just had.