Somewhere With You, Chapter Twenty
Somewhere With You, Chapter Twenty
Work. That’s what he needs to be doing, it’s the thing that will get him out of this weird, needy headspace where he doesn’t want to be alone in his empty house and put him back into a place where he feels confident and in control. Normal.
Once he closes the door on Jake (and watches from the front window till he disappears down the street, although he gives himself a pass on that because he’s also checking out the sidewalk and road conditions and the state of his tree limbs and other stuff he might need to know about) Heath heads back to the kitchen to deal with the breakfast dishes. There’s one square of French toast left, and after he gets the dishwasher loaded, he sticks it in the microwave for half a minute, then takes it and a cup of coffee over to the island where his laptop is waiting, ready to do real, productive, for-pay work. One of the joys of being an attorney - the option to work and bill from anywhere, even his kitchen.
Unfortunately, the kitchen is still filled with the leftover aura of Jake and their morning together and that cancels out all of Heath’s ambition to move on with his day. He turns on his computer, then rambles through the internet while he finishes up the leftovers, reading more news and then scrolling through umpteen dozen posts on Facebook, reading about snow in D.C. and sun in Miami and his nieces’ latest encounter with a baby lizard.
All he wants to do is waste some time till the remnants of the morning fade away and he starts to feel like his old self again and not like this needy person that Jake is somehow turning him into, but that’s not so easy to do. He feels helpless and that’s something new and scary. He’s never been helpless before, always had the means to fix anything that went wrong or a back-up plan if the first fix didn’t work. Now, he has nothing and he’s not sure how to live with that.
It’s not that he’s suddenly incapable of spending a few hours alone - he hasn’t become quite that pathetic overnight - but the impact of Jake’s absence on his peace of mind is damning. The problem isn’t how to spend the rest of the day or even the rest of the week. He has a job and a life - that hasn’t gone anywhere. But it’s the fact that not only is Jake gone, but Heath has no for-sure way of getting him back. If he needs him on Wednesday, he can’t text him or call him or email him or even look him up on Facebook, because if he does have an account it doesn’t come up when Heath does a search for Jake Hall.
Jake is gone and the only way Heath can possibly get him back is to wait till the weekend and then go to the bar and hope that he’s there. But even if he does find him, after having him at his house and in his bed there’s no way he’s going to be satisfied with ten minutes in an alley or a smelly bathroom stall. And there’s no guarantee that Jake will leave with him again. He didn’t want to come to him this time, and Heath realizes that he never actually found out what made Jake change his mind.
Above all of that is the fact that there’s no guarantee that there’ll even be an opportunity for a next time, in a stall or an alley or anywhere else. Jake’s not locked into anything. He could stop showing up at that bar at any time - he could find a better gig or a real job or get arrested or worse - and Heath would never even know unless Jake decided to tell him. Jake has his card, but Heath has nothing but memories and a sudden new empty place in his life that he has no way to fill.
Worse.
Everything that Heath knows about Jake’s life leaves him wide open to worse. Heath can’t even think about what it must be like to be him. He couldn’t even follow through with a blow job when he hooked up with a nice, clean, gorgeous guy who liked him. What would it be like having to suck off gross old men he doesn’t even know just to survive? Heath forces himself to go there in his mind, imagines himself on his knees in that bathroom, one of those random dudes he’s seen hanging around the pool table stuffing his dirty cock in his mouth. It makes him gag just thinking about it.
And that’s not even close to the worst thing that can happen. Heath can’t even let himself think about that - just one flash of Jake crouched behind that dumpster, alone and bleeding, or sprawled out on the pavement, pants down around his knees and a gash in his temple, and Heath has to put it away. He can make himself crazy or not. That’s the only thing he can control in this scenario.
Heath finally gives up on the kitchen - it’s too fresh and too full of everything he can’t have - and moves his operation to the front room of his house. He’s got a decent-sized table there where he’s worked before when he’s had lots of papers and stuff and needed the room to spread out. It’s supposed to be a dining room but he’s never gotten beyond the basics - a table and six chairs, a side piece with a couple of lamps. It needs help and he and Anne have discussed finishing it up but they’ve never actually come up with a plan or gone to a store. Somewhere along the way he lost his enthusiasm for fixing his house. Maybe about the time that he realized he was never going to get to use a dining room anyway, so what was the point?
*****
If he was hoping to hear from Jake during the week, maybe a text just to say hi or whatever, he’s disappointed. His phone stays busy, but none of the incoming messages are from a strange number, and if they are, they always start with, “X person gave me your number and I have some questions about my X.”
Heath’s not really surprised. No matter how receptive Jake is in bed to whatever he wants to do, he seems to put walls up as soon as it’s over. Calling him or initiating contact at all would be a major shift in his attitude, and Heath can’t imagine that happening just out of the blue. Therefore, he really only expects to hear from him from the hospital or jail, and so he’s not totally bummed when he doesn’t hear from him. No Jake is better than a Jake bloodied or behind bars.
On Thursday, while he waits for his lunch to get delivered, he calls Anne. They’ve texted but nothing more since Sunday and four days is about as long as they go. She sounds down when she answers, so he puts whatever complaining he wanted to do on hold and asks her what’s up.
“Nothing really, I’m just in a funk. I’m ready for spring.”
“It’s only February. You’ve got a ways to go for that.”
“I know. I’m thinking of splurging, going down to The Keys or something for a long weekend. Do you want to go?”
Her voice takes on a happier note and he envisions them on the beach, and yeah, that does sound good. “Maybe. I’ve been thinking about getting down to see my family again, maybe in March. Miami’s not The Keys, but it’s not bad either.”
“True. I could work with that.”
“Great. I’ll look at some weekends.” Laura, his assistant, brings his lunch in and sets it on his desk and he nods his thanks. “What else is up? Any progress with Jason?”
“No. I’ve got tickets to a play Friday night but he’s out of town. I’m starting to wonder if this is ever gonna go anywhere.”
“That sucks.” Heath unwraps his sandwich. It’s wasabi and roast beef and it smells delicious.
“I asked Margo but she can’t go either. Her sister’s in town.”
“Hmm…” Heath opens his little cup of soup, corn and green chile. He hopes all the spicy stuff doesn’t give him indigestion, but it sure smells good. His mouth is watering.
“I would ask you, but you’ve probably got a date with that guy,” the way she says it, you could substitute herpes in the place of that guy and it would sound totally reasonable, “and I’m not really up for any more rejection this week.”
Heath’s about to dip his spoon into the soup, but stops. He skips over her attitude, which he’s not prepared for and doesn’t feel up to dealing with, and goes for her misconception instead. “We’re not dating. It’s not like that. I’m pretty sure I explained that to you.”
“You tried, but mostly I got that you’ve got the major hots for him and I can’t see some guy who does what he does for a living turning you down for long.” There’s a hardness in her voice that tells him that since they last talked, she’s decided she doesn’t like it. That probably explains the silence this week.
“Trust me, he’s not beating down my door. I won’t see him again till Sunday, and that’s just if I’m lucky.”
She breathes hard in his ear. “Seriously, Heath? You’re paying this guy God knows what to do whatever with you and you think you’re the one getting lucky? Do you know what kind of creepos use prostitutes in this town? Nobody half as clean or good-looking as you, that’s for sure.”
For some reason, he decides to argue this point. “Anne, this is D.C. There’s politicians and lobbyists, plus all those foreign diplomats. You know a bunch of those guys are paying for it.”
“Oh definitely, but they use escort agencies with confidentiality contracts and good health guarantees. They don’t pick up random pros in bars. That boy hit the jackpot when he found you.”
“Yeah, well tell him that, because he doesn’t seem to think so.” Heath stirs his soup, feels some of her gloom creeping in on him, like he needs any help feeling like crap. He changes the subject. “So anyway, if you run out of options, I’m free on Friday night. What’s the play?”
“Are you sure? It’s Xanadu. Jordan’s the one who has the tickets. You remember him from New Year’s Eve?”
He’s the cuddly gay guy that Heath is absolutely not interested in. “Yeah. He was nice but not my type, you know, so if he’s thinking…”
“No, he’s not thinking anything like that. He’s got a date. They met on line. Maybe you should consider that. There’s lots of nice guys in town, you know.”
“Yeah, I know. Maybe I will, when I’m ready. I’m still figuring things out, I told you that.”
“Really Heath, what’s to figure out?” she asks, impatient. “You like guys instead of girls. That seems pretty simple to me.”
It’s really not, there are a thousand things to figure out that other people get years to play around with and he’s had a few weeks, but he doesn’t go there. She doesn’t need to hear about how he’s not sure if he’s a top or a bottom. He can only imagine what she’d have to say about that.
“Don’t worry about it, ok? I’ll know when I’m ready. Till then, just don’t think about it. Please.”
She sighs into the phone. “Yeah, ok. I’m sorry I’m being such a bitch. You do what you need to do, just be careful, ok?”
“I already promised you I would.”
“I know. I just worry.” She laughs quietly, sadly. “I’ll make a great mom someday.”
He nods even though she can't see him. “Yes, you definitely will.”
He gets it. They’re both ready to move on to the next phase of life, but unfortunately, the next phase of life doesn’t seem to be ready for them yet. It’s frustrating and there’s no way to fix it. They just have to stand it till things change, which eventually they will. That’s the way life works.
*****
Heath’s still rumbling around in his mind with Anne’s issues and only a third of the way through his sandwich when Laura knocks on his office door. He mumbles “Come in,” because most anything is better than what’s going on in his head.
“Hey. Sorry. You want me to come back?” she asks, looking at his food that should reasonably be long gone by now.
He shakes his head, swallows his bite five chews too soon and has to gulp some water so he doesn’t choke. Finally he gets out, “No, it’s ok. I got caught on the phone. What’s up?”
“Ok. I just wanted to let you know I’ve got everything squared away for a week from Sunday. Your flight leaves at 6:20. You’ll get to Boston around eight Sunday evening. I’ve got you in a king room at the Hyatt. I booked the later flight on Tuesday because I wasn’t sure when you’d wrap up, but it puts you back in the city around 8:30. Is that ok?”
He nods, not that it matters. Mostly he isn’t happy about having to leave on Sunday. “Am I meeting them on Sunday?”
“No, but the early flights on Monday were already booked. Sorry. Did you have plans?”
She knows him well. Work is his main thing and he rarely has anything on the weekend that can’t take a backseat to his clients. He can’t very well tell her that he’s suddenly developed a tiny speck of a life and Sunday’s are now his sex day. That would definitely quality as TMI, plus she’s the same as Anne when it comes to that sort of thing. He can’t imagine having to put up with two sets of disapproval.
“No, it’s fine. I’ll get some seafood or something,” he says, and wishes that lobsters were as satisfying as blow jobs, but sadly, they just aren’t.
*****
They meet Jordan and his date, Andrew, at The Black Fox. Anne seems happier and Heath is glad of that, although he hasn’t quite dragged himself out of his bad mood yet. They share cheese plates and hummus, but Heath orders Scotch and mostly focuses on that, not really in the mood for food.
They walk to the theater and the show is up-beat and funny enough at times that Heath finds himself laughing. Afterwards, they head back to Dupont Circle for a late dinner. Heath gets a burger, tries not to think much about how close Jordan and Andrew are sitting, or how they held hands as they walked to the restaurant. Heath isn’t attracted to either one of them, although Andrew is cute in a nerdy, buttoned-up kind of way. He might be fun for a night, if Heath was looking and he was available, but none of that is the case. Mostly, it’s just the fact that they’re together, that they have something he wants but can’t have, that digs at him and turns him back to cranky as the evening ends.
He drops Anne off at her door, then stands around shivering with his hands in his pockets for ten minutes trying to decide what to do next. It’s 10:30. He doesn’t want to go home yet, but he doesn’t want to hang out at a bar by himself either. He wants to see Jake, but he’s edgy, not sure he can play by the rules tonight.
He doesn’t want to do anything there, that’s for sure. If he walks, by the time he gets to the place it’ll be almost 11:00. Downtown starts winding down by then, especially on the weekends, so maybe Jake will be ready to call it quits by then, go home with him and do whatever. He doesn’t even have to have sex, he just wants to not be alone tonight. The worst thing that can happen is he’ll get told no, but Heath knows he’s gotten to the point where hearing no from Jake will fuck him up, so that’s actually a pretty bad option.
He goes anyway, and finds out that there actually is something worse than hearing no. Jake’s not there, and when Heath asks, the bartender says he hasn’t seen him all night.
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Work. That’s what he needs to be doing, it’s the thing that will get him out of this weird, needy headspace where he doesn’t want to be alone in his empty house and put him back into a place where he feels confident and in control. Normal.
Once he closes the door on Jake (and watches from the front window till he disappears down the street, although he gives himself a pass on that because he’s also checking out the sidewalk and road conditions and the state of his tree limbs and other stuff he might need to know about) Heath heads back to the kitchen to deal with the breakfast dishes. There’s one square of French toast left, and after he gets the dishwasher loaded, he sticks it in the microwave for half a minute, then takes it and a cup of coffee over to the island where his laptop is waiting, ready to do real, productive, for-pay work. One of the joys of being an attorney - the option to work and bill from anywhere, even his kitchen.
Unfortunately, the kitchen is still filled with the leftover aura of Jake and their morning together and that cancels out all of Heath’s ambition to move on with his day. He turns on his computer, then rambles through the internet while he finishes up the leftovers, reading more news and then scrolling through umpteen dozen posts on Facebook, reading about snow in D.C. and sun in Miami and his nieces’ latest encounter with a baby lizard.
All he wants to do is waste some time till the remnants of the morning fade away and he starts to feel like his old self again and not like this needy person that Jake is somehow turning him into, but that’s not so easy to do. He feels helpless and that’s something new and scary. He’s never been helpless before, always had the means to fix anything that went wrong or a back-up plan if the first fix didn’t work. Now, he has nothing and he’s not sure how to live with that.
It’s not that he’s suddenly incapable of spending a few hours alone - he hasn’t become quite that pathetic overnight - but the impact of Jake’s absence on his peace of mind is damning. The problem isn’t how to spend the rest of the day or even the rest of the week. He has a job and a life - that hasn’t gone anywhere. But it’s the fact that not only is Jake gone, but Heath has no for-sure way of getting him back. If he needs him on Wednesday, he can’t text him or call him or email him or even look him up on Facebook, because if he does have an account it doesn’t come up when Heath does a search for Jake Hall.
Jake is gone and the only way Heath can possibly get him back is to wait till the weekend and then go to the bar and hope that he’s there. But even if he does find him, after having him at his house and in his bed there’s no way he’s going to be satisfied with ten minutes in an alley or a smelly bathroom stall. And there’s no guarantee that Jake will leave with him again. He didn’t want to come to him this time, and Heath realizes that he never actually found out what made Jake change his mind.
Above all of that is the fact that there’s no guarantee that there’ll even be an opportunity for a next time, in a stall or an alley or anywhere else. Jake’s not locked into anything. He could stop showing up at that bar at any time - he could find a better gig or a real job or get arrested or worse - and Heath would never even know unless Jake decided to tell him. Jake has his card, but Heath has nothing but memories and a sudden new empty place in his life that he has no way to fill.
Worse.
Everything that Heath knows about Jake’s life leaves him wide open to worse. Heath can’t even think about what it must be like to be him. He couldn’t even follow through with a blow job when he hooked up with a nice, clean, gorgeous guy who liked him. What would it be like having to suck off gross old men he doesn’t even know just to survive? Heath forces himself to go there in his mind, imagines himself on his knees in that bathroom, one of those random dudes he’s seen hanging around the pool table stuffing his dirty cock in his mouth. It makes him gag just thinking about it.
And that’s not even close to the worst thing that can happen. Heath can’t even let himself think about that - just one flash of Jake crouched behind that dumpster, alone and bleeding, or sprawled out on the pavement, pants down around his knees and a gash in his temple, and Heath has to put it away. He can make himself crazy or not. That’s the only thing he can control in this scenario.
Heath finally gives up on the kitchen - it’s too fresh and too full of everything he can’t have - and moves his operation to the front room of his house. He’s got a decent-sized table there where he’s worked before when he’s had lots of papers and stuff and needed the room to spread out. It’s supposed to be a dining room but he’s never gotten beyond the basics - a table and six chairs, a side piece with a couple of lamps. It needs help and he and Anne have discussed finishing it up but they’ve never actually come up with a plan or gone to a store. Somewhere along the way he lost his enthusiasm for fixing his house. Maybe about the time that he realized he was never going to get to use a dining room anyway, so what was the point?
*****
If he was hoping to hear from Jake during the week, maybe a text just to say hi or whatever, he’s disappointed. His phone stays busy, but none of the incoming messages are from a strange number, and if they are, they always start with, “X person gave me your number and I have some questions about my X.”
Heath’s not really surprised. No matter how receptive Jake is in bed to whatever he wants to do, he seems to put walls up as soon as it’s over. Calling him or initiating contact at all would be a major shift in his attitude, and Heath can’t imagine that happening just out of the blue. Therefore, he really only expects to hear from him from the hospital or jail, and so he’s not totally bummed when he doesn’t hear from him. No Jake is better than a Jake bloodied or behind bars.
On Thursday, while he waits for his lunch to get delivered, he calls Anne. They’ve texted but nothing more since Sunday and four days is about as long as they go. She sounds down when she answers, so he puts whatever complaining he wanted to do on hold and asks her what’s up.
“Nothing really, I’m just in a funk. I’m ready for spring.”
“It’s only February. You’ve got a ways to go for that.”
“I know. I’m thinking of splurging, going down to The Keys or something for a long weekend. Do you want to go?”
Her voice takes on a happier note and he envisions them on the beach, and yeah, that does sound good. “Maybe. I’ve been thinking about getting down to see my family again, maybe in March. Miami’s not The Keys, but it’s not bad either.”
“True. I could work with that.”
“Great. I’ll look at some weekends.” Laura, his assistant, brings his lunch in and sets it on his desk and he nods his thanks. “What else is up? Any progress with Jason?”
“No. I’ve got tickets to a play Friday night but he’s out of town. I’m starting to wonder if this is ever gonna go anywhere.”
“That sucks.” Heath unwraps his sandwich. It’s wasabi and roast beef and it smells delicious.
“I asked Margo but she can’t go either. Her sister’s in town.”
“Hmm…” Heath opens his little cup of soup, corn and green chile. He hopes all the spicy stuff doesn’t give him indigestion, but it sure smells good. His mouth is watering.
“I would ask you, but you’ve probably got a date with that guy,” the way she says it, you could substitute herpes in the place of that guy and it would sound totally reasonable, “and I’m not really up for any more rejection this week.”
Heath’s about to dip his spoon into the soup, but stops. He skips over her attitude, which he’s not prepared for and doesn’t feel up to dealing with, and goes for her misconception instead. “We’re not dating. It’s not like that. I’m pretty sure I explained that to you.”
“You tried, but mostly I got that you’ve got the major hots for him and I can’t see some guy who does what he does for a living turning you down for long.” There’s a hardness in her voice that tells him that since they last talked, she’s decided she doesn’t like it. That probably explains the silence this week.
“Trust me, he’s not beating down my door. I won’t see him again till Sunday, and that’s just if I’m lucky.”
She breathes hard in his ear. “Seriously, Heath? You’re paying this guy God knows what to do whatever with you and you think you’re the one getting lucky? Do you know what kind of creepos use prostitutes in this town? Nobody half as clean or good-looking as you, that’s for sure.”
For some reason, he decides to argue this point. “Anne, this is D.C. There’s politicians and lobbyists, plus all those foreign diplomats. You know a bunch of those guys are paying for it.”
“Oh definitely, but they use escort agencies with confidentiality contracts and good health guarantees. They don’t pick up random pros in bars. That boy hit the jackpot when he found you.”
“Yeah, well tell him that, because he doesn’t seem to think so.” Heath stirs his soup, feels some of her gloom creeping in on him, like he needs any help feeling like crap. He changes the subject. “So anyway, if you run out of options, I’m free on Friday night. What’s the play?”
“Are you sure? It’s Xanadu. Jordan’s the one who has the tickets. You remember him from New Year’s Eve?”
He’s the cuddly gay guy that Heath is absolutely not interested in. “Yeah. He was nice but not my type, you know, so if he’s thinking…”
“No, he’s not thinking anything like that. He’s got a date. They met on line. Maybe you should consider that. There’s lots of nice guys in town, you know.”
“Yeah, I know. Maybe I will, when I’m ready. I’m still figuring things out, I told you that.”
“Really Heath, what’s to figure out?” she asks, impatient. “You like guys instead of girls. That seems pretty simple to me.”
It’s really not, there are a thousand things to figure out that other people get years to play around with and he’s had a few weeks, but he doesn’t go there. She doesn’t need to hear about how he’s not sure if he’s a top or a bottom. He can only imagine what she’d have to say about that.
“Don’t worry about it, ok? I’ll know when I’m ready. Till then, just don’t think about it. Please.”
She sighs into the phone. “Yeah, ok. I’m sorry I’m being such a bitch. You do what you need to do, just be careful, ok?”
“I already promised you I would.”
“I know. I just worry.” She laughs quietly, sadly. “I’ll make a great mom someday.”
He nods even though she can't see him. “Yes, you definitely will.”
He gets it. They’re both ready to move on to the next phase of life, but unfortunately, the next phase of life doesn’t seem to be ready for them yet. It’s frustrating and there’s no way to fix it. They just have to stand it till things change, which eventually they will. That’s the way life works.
*****
Heath’s still rumbling around in his mind with Anne’s issues and only a third of the way through his sandwich when Laura knocks on his office door. He mumbles “Come in,” because most anything is better than what’s going on in his head.
“Hey. Sorry. You want me to come back?” she asks, looking at his food that should reasonably be long gone by now.
He shakes his head, swallows his bite five chews too soon and has to gulp some water so he doesn’t choke. Finally he gets out, “No, it’s ok. I got caught on the phone. What’s up?”
“Ok. I just wanted to let you know I’ve got everything squared away for a week from Sunday. Your flight leaves at 6:20. You’ll get to Boston around eight Sunday evening. I’ve got you in a king room at the Hyatt. I booked the later flight on Tuesday because I wasn’t sure when you’d wrap up, but it puts you back in the city around 8:30. Is that ok?”
He nods, not that it matters. Mostly he isn’t happy about having to leave on Sunday. “Am I meeting them on Sunday?”
“No, but the early flights on Monday were already booked. Sorry. Did you have plans?”
She knows him well. Work is his main thing and he rarely has anything on the weekend that can’t take a backseat to his clients. He can’t very well tell her that he’s suddenly developed a tiny speck of a life and Sunday’s are now his sex day. That would definitely quality as TMI, plus she’s the same as Anne when it comes to that sort of thing. He can’t imagine having to put up with two sets of disapproval.
“No, it’s fine. I’ll get some seafood or something,” he says, and wishes that lobsters were as satisfying as blow jobs, but sadly, they just aren’t.
*****
They meet Jordan and his date, Andrew, at The Black Fox. Anne seems happier and Heath is glad of that, although he hasn’t quite dragged himself out of his bad mood yet. They share cheese plates and hummus, but Heath orders Scotch and mostly focuses on that, not really in the mood for food.
They walk to the theater and the show is up-beat and funny enough at times that Heath finds himself laughing. Afterwards, they head back to Dupont Circle for a late dinner. Heath gets a burger, tries not to think much about how close Jordan and Andrew are sitting, or how they held hands as they walked to the restaurant. Heath isn’t attracted to either one of them, although Andrew is cute in a nerdy, buttoned-up kind of way. He might be fun for a night, if Heath was looking and he was available, but none of that is the case. Mostly, it’s just the fact that they’re together, that they have something he wants but can’t have, that digs at him and turns him back to cranky as the evening ends.
He drops Anne off at her door, then stands around shivering with his hands in his pockets for ten minutes trying to decide what to do next. It’s 10:30. He doesn’t want to go home yet, but he doesn’t want to hang out at a bar by himself either. He wants to see Jake, but he’s edgy, not sure he can play by the rules tonight.
He doesn’t want to do anything there, that’s for sure. If he walks, by the time he gets to the place it’ll be almost 11:00. Downtown starts winding down by then, especially on the weekends, so maybe Jake will be ready to call it quits by then, go home with him and do whatever. He doesn’t even have to have sex, he just wants to not be alone tonight. The worst thing that can happen is he’ll get told no, but Heath knows he’s gotten to the point where hearing no from Jake will fuck him up, so that’s actually a pretty bad option.
He goes anyway, and finds out that there actually is something worse than hearing no. Jake’s not there, and when Heath asks, the bartender says he hasn’t seen him all night.
keep reading here: http://whiskiegurl.livejournal.com/20980.html