Kept Man: Firsts and Forever Stories

“Oh. Um, no. I’ve never actually been out of the country. In fact, I found my passport a few months ago and took a look at it, and I realized it had expired before I’d gotten even a single stamp in it.” I closed the cookbook and set it aside, then started to peel some ginger with a teaspoon, the way Micah had shown me.

“When did you get the passport?”

“My mom got us both passports for my sixteenth birthday. It was her way of saying she wanted me to get out there and experience the world. She was saving up money and wanted to take me on a trip for my high school graduation. We spent so much time talking about all the different places we could go. We’d get stacks of travel books from the library and read up on all these fascinating locations. Of course, we couldn’t have afforded most of them, but it was fun to daydream.”

He said softly, “And then she died before you could go on that trip.” I nodded, blinking back tears as I concentrated on the gnarled root in my hand. “Did you ever decide on a destination?”

“No. We thought we still had time.” My voice broke at that last bit.

Without another word, Micah took the ginger and the spoon from my hands and set them aside. Then he wrapped me up in an embrace. We stayed like that for a long time.

At six p.m. sharp, our guests arrived. Over the last few weeks, they’d been coming over for dinner every Tuesday night. Ash and Micah had bonded instantly over their shared love of music, and more surprisingly, Wes and I had been bonding, too. I’d assumed I wouldn’t have anything in common with a doctor from a wealthy east coast family, but we’d discovered a mutual love of art, and from there a friendship had grown.

Ash had brought along his DJ equipment. After dinner we moved into the den, and he and Micah put on a show. They’d planned their jam session the week before, and while Ash wove together a mix of funk and rock, Micah improvised on the electric guitar. It sounded fantastic, and when they finished Wes and I applauded and cheered.

Micah grinned as he joined me on the couch, and I automatically climbed onto his lap. While Ash and Wes got comfortable on the loveseat, Ash said, “That was a dream come true. Thanks for humoring me, Micah.”

“It was fun. Let’s do it again sometime,” Micah said, as I put my head on his shoulder and he wrapped his arms around me.

“If only you could come to my pop-up show next weekend,” Ash said. “I rented a huge warehouse and put together a line-up of the best DJs I know. It’s going to be epic, but jamming with you would have made it next-level.”

“I’d be there if I could,” Micah said sincerely.

I asked, “Speaking of the show, are you ready for it?”

Ash nodded. “The tickets sold out, and I finally found someone to do the lighting, so everything’s all set. I’m so nervous, though. I really need this to go off without a hitch. If it does, this could be the start of a whole new chapter in my career.”

“It’s going to be great,” I said, “I’m sure of it.”

I had to marvel at the way every aspect of my best friend’s life was falling into place. He had a loving boyfriend and a beautiful new home, and now his career was about to reach new heights. I felt like I was plodding along at a snail’s pace while his life was taking off like a rocket—not that it was a contest, but some comparisons were inevitable.

“Speaking of great things,” Ash said, “have you watched Nana’s cooking show yet?”

I sat up and exclaimed, “No, I didn’t know she’d posted it!”

“Just this afternoon,” Ash told us, as he grabbed his laptop and cued it up. Then he handed it to me, and he and Wes stood behind the sofa so they could watch over our shoulders.

I asked, “Why is it only five minutes long?”

Wes grinned and said, “You’ll see.”

Micah clicked play, and his instrumental theme song started. He’d played guitar, drums, and keyboard, recording each track individually in his studio, and then he’d layered them into a fun and upbeat finished product.

Ash asked, “Why’d you decide against lyrics?”

Micah grinned and explained, “Because that’s one foul-mouthed little old lady, and the lyrics she wanted made even me blush. Talking her into an instrumental version was basically a public service.”

Nana appeared on the screen in a rainbow-striped track suit and said, “My name’s Stana Dombruso, but you can call me Nana. I’m gonna be teaching you how to cook, because most of you are terrible at it! But this week, I have something better than a recipe. I call it basting a turkey, and I think you’ll enjoy it.”