He shoves his hands into his pockets firmly again. 揑t抯 very obvious that you抮e uncomfortable touching me, and I抦 not stating this observation to you to make you feel like you need to correct me. I understand why that is. We have a friendship, plus a working relationship, and I抳e always respected our collective boundaries so that we don抰 muddy those lines too much. You抳e always been?openly affectionate, with other people, though, so I just want to make sure I don抰 make you uncomfortable, okay? That抯 all I抦 saying.?
揙kay,?is all I can come up with. But then he turns to leave, and I grapple for more time. 揂re you hungry??I ask.
He turns to me, 揤ery.?
After a terribly silent and awkward car ride, we settle down at a table outside at our favorite sushi restaurant. Meyer抯 developed the habit of just picking where we go without asking, and I love him more for it. He somehow manages to know what I want without me having to think and lead and pick all the time. It抯 a superpower that I pretend is solely used on me. The gesture motivates me to concede some vulnerability.
揗eyer, it抯 not that I抦 uncomfortable touching you. It抯 that I appreciate you too much to want to chance making you uncomfortable. You?you抳e made your fair share of remarks about my age and all that, and I just have tried to be diligent about not crossing that line with you, in an attempt to be?fuck, I don抰 know梞ature??I pull a mock barfing face.
揊ee, you抳e called me grandpa at least a thousand times.?
揑 know. But?I promise. I won抰 have a mental breakdown over this if you won抰。？Might when it抯 done, but if I think on that too long I抣l back out entirely.
揑 won抰。 But this is why I think it抎 be good to?practice, I guess, so you抮e not jumping anytime my hands come in contact with you.?His big shoulders inch toward his ears, tense.
揑 agree.?
揧eah??The tension wavers a bit.
揧es. But I don抰 want to have to specifically define it. Let抯 not make it too exact, here.?
揥e抣l just take it as we go??
揈xactly.?
Our waiter comes then and puts the bowl of spicy edamame on the table. We place our orders, and I dive into the beans when I notice his hand?
He抯 laid out one forearm on the table, palm just slightly turned up. It might be an invitation, but it抯 not so blatant that it might not be, either?
I decide to experiment and lay my own forearm down so my hand sits just on the inside of his. We抮e both still wearing our sunglasses so I can抰 see his eyes to determine whether he抯 noticed.
When he doesn抰 move again, I hold my breath and graze my fingertips along his palm, which he unfurls instantly. I peek at him through my lenses, seeing his throat work and his nostrils flare slightly. His fingertips rise up just so, smoothing along the underside of my wrist.
I physically feel myself wanting to ruin this moment with a dumb remark or?God forbid?a sound effect. Rather than chance it, I shovel back some edamame with my free hand, silently begging for him to be the one to speak first.
揝o?anything new you plan to add in tomorrow抯 set??he asks.
When I lick the spicy garlicky remnants from a finger, his thumb wraps around to push my palm into his. A million synapses begin to buzz, and I will that hand not to sweat.
I search my brain, ping-ponging around in my head. 揢m?Nothing profound. But I did decide to start trying natural deodorant this week. You know, because the regular stuff just has all kinds of chemicals and is actually pretty toxic. And then it didn抰 take long for me to decide that I抎 just rather die a little bit sooner with some of that crap in my system than gain a few extra years having to smell that toxic.?
揂lways love a good public service announcement.?
揈xcept my sex toy one, of course.?
He laughs through his nose as his thumb continues its circles across the top of my hand.
Sushi arrives, and it抯 not until halfway through the meal that I notice him using his fork to eat instead of the chopsticks. It抯 also when I notice that he uses that fork with his opposite hand, so he can keep hold of mine with the other.
It抯 the best lunch of my life.
34 MONTHS AGO
揑 used to think the worst thing in life was to end up alone. It抯 not. The worst thing in life is to end up with people that make you feel alone.?- Robin Williams
MEYER
You wouldn抰 think that many people would spend Christmas Eve out at a comedy club, but you抎 be wrong.
It抯 packed, overheated, and overflowing with the drunk and jolly. Hazel and I agreed to spend this Christmas Eve with Farley who has ferreted her way into our lives and asserted herself as a regular fixture.
I don抰 know how to define our relationship. Friends? I give her occasional advice on her stand-up, but I wouldn抰 go so far as to say that I抦 mentoring her. Friends is accurate, I suppose. The amount of space she takes up in my brain certainly feels friendly.
She and Hazel have a unique bond, and in spite of Farley constantly making jokes about how she should not be allowed to be an influence, I do think she抯 good for Hazel. She makes her laugh, at least. And, more than that, she helps handle some of the stuff that I muck up條ike issues with friend groups, a boy that shoved her down in some game called wall-ball梐nd she handles it with productive advice. I, on the other hand, was ready to yank her out of school entirely and find a private tutor and not let her out of the house ever again.
Instead, per Fee抯 instruction, we all met at a park three nights a week and practiced until Hazel kicked the kid抯 ass handily in wall-ball. He completely avoids her now.
She helps Hazel with her dance routines梬hich, I might add, is a highly specialized skill. Not being able to hear a rhythm requires a different kind of memorization and feel. I抎 been extremely wary梐ngry, even梬hen Farley pushed me to let her join. But the brat has proven me wrong again.
揓ust because she can抰 hear the music doesn抰 mean she can抰 feel it, Meyer. She likes to move, and is begging to do this. It抯 good for her. Let her try,?Farley had said.
I抎 felt powerless and immediately tired by the mere idea of arguing about it, so I did let her try.
Watching her learn a dance?God, it makes me sick with pride. Fee makes Hazel want to be brave, and then she follows that up with helping her apply it. They memorize a succession of gestures to indicate the start of a song and then Hazel takes it from there. It抯 not lost on me that Farley ends up having to memorize the dances herself in order to help Hazel in certain sticky spots.
So, when my parents told me they were headed to Hawaii for Christmas, Hazel asked if we could go to Lance抯 club and see Farley抯 last show of the year, and I agreed. Although as I watch what appears to be a group of frat guys in from out of town, greeting each other with varying degrees of chest bumps and yelling about 揝hots!?I wince and wonder if we should have just met up with her afterwards.
Farley gets up to do her set and the part of my brain that I usually donkey-kick into submission rears up and catches me off guard when she sidles out under the lights.
She抯？she抯 beautiful.
It抯 not as if I haven抰 noticed that she抯 attractive all this time, but there抯 some force that opens my eyes fully in this moment. Maybe it抯 the sum of Hazel抯 recital yesterday, ice skating the day before, and that whole Christmas spirit thing. Whatever it is, I take her in and feel like she抯 in focus. Like one of those pictures that starts out looking like a multitude of different tiny photos but turns into a portrait when you back away from it.