Chapter Five
Glenn felt flustered as he darted from room to room, tucking away old pictures and picking up dirty clothes. He tossed a collection of sign language books on his bed, rushed to fix a lampshade, and returned to the bed to discard the books. But there was nowhere to put the books. He dropped them back to the mattress out of frustration. Everything was everywhere all at once and his thoughts were racing as fast. There was too much.
“Where's my earpiece?” He stumbled into the living room and located the postal box that he had yet to open. As he tore the cardboard open, he twitched.
No, not yet. Don't wear it yet. Needing it just made him feel weak even though his doctor had encouraged him to start wearing it. The hearing loss wasn't that bad yet. Mindlessly, he traced his left ear. There was nothing physically wrong with his ear, at least not on the surface, and wearing this would only make him feel like there was.
Hearing aids weren't incredibly obvious, but he would know. He would see it every time he passed a mirror and he would undoubtedly tap it to make sure it was working. Panic rose in his gut as he tossed the package on the couch, watching it bounce briefly on the cushions before settling.
“I have to hide it.” He was resolved in his decision, grabbing the package before he even had time to convince himself otherwise. In the drawer, it went beneath a pile of boxers where he buried it deep and shut the drawer. The sign language books on his bed stared at him. “You have to go, too.”
He announced it like a death sentence; like they were going to walk the plank. And for what? A silly and embarrassing necessity? He sighed audibly, tracing the cover of the top book while focusing on the words. Over and over he read them while debating. He had been so steadfast before this pause, but now he was hesitating. He shook his head.
As he threw the books in his underwear drawer, the doorbell rang. His heart skipped a beat. A knock followed the bell and his heart skipped again, prompting him to slam the drawer shut.
“Coming!”
He rushed to the door, holding his breath the whole way. When he glanced in the mirror in the hall, he exhaled hard.
Get it together, he thought as he shook his head. Seriously, it's just the second date.
He took another breath, smoothed his shirt, and swung open the door.
“Good evening, friend.” Why did he say that? Was that weird? He smiled to save it. “How's it going?”
Kaleb stood on the porch wearing a pair of jeans and a loose-fitting V-neck shirt. The design on the shirt was a pair of crescent moons placed symmetrically in a mirrored image with stars surrounding them. A tattoo peeked out from beneath his short sleeve as he extended his hand holding a single lily. Glenn smiled.
“I'm doing well,” Kaleb replied. “How about yourself?”
“Better now,” Glenn whispered dreamily. He shook his head. “I'm just great. Dinner is in the oven.”
As Kaleb flashed his incredible smile, Glenn melted. He accepted the lily and raised it to his nose, breathing in the sweet scent of it. A hum escaped him as he exhaled and stepped aside to let Kaleb through the doorway.
Kaleb curiously sniffed the air. “Smells like pork and...is that Brussels sprouts?”
Impressed, Glenn nodded. He gestured toward the dining room. While Kaleb admired the watercolors hanging up in the living room, Glenn rummaged through the cabinet to find a vase. He pushed several glasses aside, sighed audibly when he couldn't locate the proper receptacle for his lily, and resorted to using one of the tall beer glasses. He rinsed it prior to filling it with water and set the lily inside.
“This is interesting.” Kaleb pointed to the watercolor near the couch.
“Yeah? Do you like it?”
“I'm not sure. It makes me feel weird.”
Glenn frowned. “How so?”
A pause. Kaleb swished his words in his mouth like water, raising a hand to trace the painting. But he didn't touch the canvas. He never did. He merely used his pointer finger to follow the flow of colors.
“I thought you didn't do abstract,” he teased.
“I don't. That one was done by a local artist named Belle.”
Kaleb nodded. “Well, she must have a dark mind.”
“She suffers from depression. I think she painted that when she was in a bad fit.”
Staring pensively, Kaleb lowered his hand. “I can tell. It's intensely emotional. All the strokes of her brush are aggressive, filled with a desire to break free.”
“That's why I picked it.”
Kaleb turned and cocked his head, inquiring why without saying a word. Glenn loved that expressiveness. It wasn't difficult to understand, and it made him feel more confident about reading Kaleb's body language.
“I don't get depressed often,” Glenn explained. “But when I do, it feels like the weight of the world is pushing down on me.”
“What do you get depressed about, if I may ask?”
Glenn froze. Instinctively, he wanted to reach for his ear, but he turned instead to the stove to check the pork in the oven. It sizzled and cracked, smelling like heaven. His stomach growled in response. As he rose to check the Brussels sprouts sitting in a pan on low, he heard Kaleb cross the threshold into the kitchen.
“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to impose,” he lamented.
“Oh, no. It's no trouble.”
“I realize we're not exactly close, but I'm a good listener and I don't judge. Trust me, I've been through my share.”
Glenn nodded, feeling genuine gratitude that Kaleb wasn't going to push it. He offered a warm smile and grabbed a spoon to stir the Brussels sprouts.
“I appreciate that. It's just life, you know? Life happens.”
“Of course. I completely understand. Can I help?”
“No, please, have a seat. I aim to please.”
Kaleb grinned wide. “I insist. I like to help.”
Without arguing, Glenn handed over two porcelain plates. While he attended to the food, Kaleb set the table. He took the silverware from the counter, placed them next to the plates, and stood next to his chair as Glenn brought the hot food. He set a pork chop on each plate, shoveled some Brussels sprouts next to it, and put the rest of the food on the stove.
It was charming the way Kaleb waited until Glenn was seated before sitting down. Glenn found himself tingling all over, a set of goosebumps sprouting over his arms as he reached for his glass of water.
“This smells incredible. Thank you, Glenn,” Kaleb said.
Glenn smiled again. “You're very welcome. I hope you enjoy it.”
He stared at his plate. Part of him wanted to reach across the table and pull Kaleb to the floor, to ravish him over the tile instead of eating dinner. The titillating memory of having his hands on that delectable skin caused a pang to ripple through his pelvis. He glanced down and noticed his excitement through his pants, turning red immediately.
Stop thinking about his abs and start talking about something.
“How has work been this week?” he queried nervously. “I mean, tell me about the things you write. Anything at all. Everything interests me.”
Keep calm and don't overload the man with questions.
“It's been great. I had to cover a protest that happened downtown. Most of the time, I'm writing about activities in the community or events. Grace came with me to photograph everything.”
“Who is Grace?”
“My best friend and co-worker. She does photography for the local art community and sells the photos to the newspaper.”
“That sounds awesome. Do you ever cover local artists?”
Kaleb cut a piece of his pork and held it in front of his lips while thinking. As he placed it in his mouth, his pink tongue became visible for just a moment. Glenn swelled with desire at the sight.
“Or does someone else do that?” he quickly asked.
“I do it on occasion.” Kaleb became silent as he chewed, keeping his eyes level with Glenn's. “And I love talking to artists. Maybe I could write an article about you sometime.”
Glenn waved while flushing. He felt the warmth in his cheeks spread down his neck and settle in his chest. Was it really that hot in here? He couldn't tell. It certainly couldn't have been the heat of North Carolina barreling in through the window because he had closed that window earlier. Nervously, he turned to check. It was shut.
“I don't think so,” he chuckled as he turned back to Kaleb. “I mean, I don't really feel like I'm that good.”
“But you are! And your work deserves attention. I'm sure your clients would love to see it in the paper. It could also bring you new clients.”
More warmth seeped into Glenn's skin, circling about in his gut. He felt like he was sweating and kept wiping his forehead, blinking his eyes to get a hold of himself.
“Thank you. I'll totally consider it,” he stated. “Do you want some more water?”
“No, I'm fine.”
“Great. I'll be back.”
Glenn hopped into the kitchen and leaned against the counter. The eye of the stove was still red hot. He turned the knob to turn it off and the red dissipated. Maybe that's why he felt overheated. While refilling his glass of water, he listened to the sound of silverware squeaking against a plate.
He chugged his water while staring out the window, watching the birds flutter past the glass. “It's just dinner. Chill.”
But it felt like he was approaching judgment day. He hadn't panicked like this in weeks, and even longer than that was the last time he had had a date. Kaleb was wonderful, kind, intelligent, and sweet. There was nothing to fear here. The only thing he had to be afraid of was the rate of his heart.
He calmly rested his hand on his chest and took a few deep breaths. Each one slowed his heart rate a little bit until it resumed a regular beat. When he was ready, he returned to the table.
“Sorry.” He grinned. “Did I miss anything?”
“Only me finishing this delicious pork.”
Glenn laughed. “I'm really glad you're pleased with it.”
“Beyond. No one has made me dinner in...” He faded as he became lost in thought. “Well, years.”
“That's a shame. I love to cook for those I care about.”
Kaleb raised an inquisitive brow. “You care about me?”
“Well, I... uh...”
Snickering echoed from across the table, forcing Glenn to turn red. He scratched the back of his head as he peered down at the food remaining on his plate. There was a great portion of his pork chop left and he had hardly eaten his sprouts. Kaleb made him incredibly nervous, and he was sort of loving it.
“I'm starting to, yes,” he finally admitted.
Kaleb grinned. “Well, the feeling is mutual.”
At the sound of those words, Glenn felt the warmth of his stomach spread out through every limb. His entire body became hot from the sensation and it grew the longer he held Kaleb's gaze.
“Are you done eating?” Kaleb asked, pointing to Glenn's plate.
“Oh, yes. I am.”
“Here.” Kaleb rose from his seat and bussed their plates, taking them into the kitchen to set in the sink.
Glenn watched. It was all he could do, silenced by the considerate action of cleaning up the table without even asking. He held his hand to his heart again, feeling the beat increase as he watched and smiling, thinking, This is going to be an amazing night.