Kept Man: Firsts and Forever Stories

I smiled at him, and then I asked, “So, what would you like to do tonight?”

“Let’s go up on the roof and look for fireworks. That probably sounds childish, but they’ve always been a part of celebrating my birthday. We wouldn’t be able to see any from back here, but from up there we might get lucky.”

“Sounds fun.”

We went back inside, and as we climbed the stairs, he said, “Just so you know, if you decide to take the job and move in here, you can have your own room. Hell, you can have the entire third and fourth floors if you want them. I know I must seem needy as fuck, but I really will make sure you have plenty of literal and figurative space.”

“You actually don’t seem needy.”

“No? Well, there’s still time, especially if you turn down my offer. If that happens, I plan to very dramatically fling myself at your feet, clutch your ankles, and cry like a baby until you reconsider. It’ll be extremely undignified, and my tears will probably stain your very attractive leather loafers. I know what you’re thinking—your loafers are far too posh to subject them to that. So, for their sake, you should really consider taking me up on my offer.”

That made me laugh. Then I said, “Way to slip in a jab at my wardrobe choice.”

“I had to. Don’t get me wrong, you look sensational. But you’re also dressed like you’re about to go yachting, while I’m dressed like the guy you buy weed from on the way to the marina.”

He chuckled when I said, “You’re not wrong.”

When we reached the fourth floor, he ducked into a guest bedroom and grabbed a thick, dark red comforter off the bed. Then he led me to a pair of dormer windows at the side of the house and explained, “Roof access is a little odd, so please be careful. Also, maybe don’t look down.”

He opened a window, climbed through it, and waited for me with the blanket rolled up under one arm. Micah took my hand as I stepped out onto sloped shingles, and he guided me up and over a fairly steep peak, staying right beside me with a steadying hand on my back. Then I did exactly what he’d told me not to and looked down. When I saw there was nothing but a narrow gutter at the roof’s edge with a four-story drop beyond it, I muttered, “Yikes.”

“Told you not to look.”

Most of the roof was made up of an eclectic compilation of spires, gables, and ridges, but there was a flat bit in the center. As he spread out the blanket on that section, he said, “Since the sun just set, we’ll probably have to wait until it’s darker before we can expect to see any fireworks.”

We both stretched out on our backs, and I tucked my hands beneath my head and looked up at the twilight-purple sky. “This is nice,” I said. “It reminds me of my childhood. I used to spend a lot of time staring up at the stars.”

“I bet you could see more than two.” That was all we could see at the moment, and there was a good chance one of them was actually a plane.

I grinned and said, “Yeah, a few more. This isn’t the best place for stargazing.”

“Where’d you grow up?”

“Sacramento. What about you?”

“Here in San Francisco.”

“This must have been a great place to grow up.”

“I’m sure it is, if you’re not dirt poor. My mom died when I was three, and my dad struggled to make ends meet while raising my brother and me on his own. We had a shitty one-bedroom apartment in the Tenderloin, and he worked two jobs just to keep a roof over our heads. It was tough.”

“I was raised by a single mom, so I get it,” I said.

“Is it okay to ask what happened to your dad?”

“He took off when my mom got pregnant, so I never met him. She was only nineteen when I was born, but she worked hard and took such good care of me. She was a waitress at this funky old diner, and it was basically my second home.”

“Where is she now?”

After a pause, I said quietly, “She died when I was sixteen. She got the flu, and she didn’t go to the hospital because we didn’t have health insurance. It ended up killing her. After she was gone, our neighbors let me stay with them until I finished high school. I’ve been on my own since I graduated.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, it’s okay. I like talking about her,” I said. “Actually, she’s been on my mind all day today. She used to throw an annual Fourth of July party, and it was just the best time. It was one of only four days a year that the diner was closed, and she’d have everyone over, all our neighbors and her friends from work.