Kept Man: Firsts and Forever Stories

“Are you sure you want me to have keys to your house?”

“Of course. This is your home for the next six months.”

“Okay. Thanks.” I slid them into my pocket and asked, “What’re you up to?”

His face lit up. “I made you lunch. I hope you’re hungry.”

“I definitely am,” I said, as I followed him to the kitchen.

He’d had some groceries delivered and had been cooking, so every countertop was trashed. He looked hopeful as he pulled a rectangular cake from the fridge and watched for my reaction. It had whipped cream frosting and was decorated with a flag made of strawberries and blueberries.

“I know it’s a day late,” he said. “I made potato salad too, and there are hotdogs and some other stuff. Well, technically they’re veggie dogs, but if you smother them in enough mustard and relish, maybe you won’t be able to tell the difference.”

It took me a moment to figure out what he was doing, and then it dawned on me. He’d tried to recreate the Fourth of July meal I’d told him about, the one my mom and I used to make every year for our party. I swallowed the lump in my throat and whispered, “I can’t believe you did all of that.”

“Oh shit, did I mess up? I wanted to make you happy, but if you don’t like it we can throw it out and—”

I shook my head. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

“Are you sure? You seem upset.”

“No, this is wonderful. I’m just a mess today, so please ignore me.”

He touched my cheek and asked, “Will you tell me what’s going on?”

After a pause, I admitted, “I was already feeling emotional after talking to my roommate, and then this was just really touching. I guess it all ended up being a bit overwhelming.”

“What happened with your roommate?” I tried to briefly explain about Ash and his boyfriend buying a house and moving out before I returned, and how I’d miss him. Then Micah murmured, “I’m so selfish.”

I pushed my hair out of my face and met his gaze. “What? No, you’re not.”

“Sure I am. I plucked you out of your life and put you in mine, and look what it’s doing to you.”

“Ash was going to move out anyway, even if you and I had never met.”

He still looked concerned. “What can I do to make you feel better?”

“You already made me a wonderfully thoughtful meal.”

“It’s nothing.”

I gave him a hug and said, “No, it’s not. You listened to what I said about my mom and cared enough to recreate a cherished memory. That means the world to me.”

“I wanted to make you happy.”

“You did. I just have a weird way of showing it.” He grinned at me as I let go of him, and I asked, “How can I help with lunch?”

“We need to move all this stuff outside for our fifth of July celebration.”

Once we got everything set up out on the patio, he lit the charcoal in the smallest barbeque grill I’d ever seen. It was only about ten inches wide and a foot tall, and he explained, “I just got this with home delivery, and I misjudged the scale on my phone. We can make it work, as long as we only try to cook two hotdogs at a time.”

“It’s adorable,” I said. “It’s like the Easy Bake Oven of grills.” He chuckled at that.

While we waited for the coals to burn down, he asked, “What’s it like out in the city today?”

“Quieter than usual. I think a lot of people took today off for the fourth, so the traffic’s lighter and everything feels calmer. There’s that lull that happens in between when the tourists leave and before the locals come back on holiday weekends, and I caught it right at that time.”

“I love the fact that you’re in tune to the city’s energy. I always was, too. You know, back when I could leave the house. That’s why I used to love taking walks around three or four a.m., when San Francisco was quiet. There was a kind of intimacy to it, as if the city and I belonged to each other.” He looked away and mumbled, “That probably sounds ridiculous.”

“No. It’s beautiful, actually. It makes me think of one of my favorite songs, the one by the Red Hot Chili Peppers called—”

“Under the Bridge.”

“How did you know?”

“It’s one of my favorites, too. I’m surprised you know it, though.”

“Because of my age?” When he nodded, I explained, “My roommate Ash is a DJ and a huge music lover. When he first moved in and discovered how clueless I was when it came to music, he started doing these decade theme nights once a week. That’s how I discovered a love of early nineties alt-rock.”

“I was a kid when the alt-rock scene was at its peak, but I circled back to it when I was in high school, and it had a huge influence on me. It’s what made me pick up a guitar, actually. And believe it or not, one of the first songs I learned to play was Under the Bridge. I just love everything about it, including the lyrics.”