Strings Attached

The parts thing was easier. While I had someone in service who could work on that, we were also backed up on repairs, so in times like that, I stepped in to do the jobs I could. Replace a transmission I couldn’t do, but making phone calls I could.

I was a little late getting out of work that afternoon, but I sent Warren a text to let him know. We were meeting at the gym to play racquetball.

He was there when I arrived, waved and held the door open for me to go inside.

“Don’t try and be nice, Warren. I’m still pissed at you.” It had been a week since his impromptu visit to my house just so he could scope out Zander.

“Sorry, I wanted to meet your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I replied as we headed for the locker room.

“Sorry—I wanted to meet the guy you’re fucking and totally in love with and whom you want to be your boyfriend but are too afraid to tell him.”

I looked at my friend and flipped him off. “Sometimes I don’t know why I like you.”

“Come on. This is fun. It’s like we’re kids again. Maybe you should write him a letter? Do you like me? Check the box for yes or no. You have a crush, and you’re too afraid to open up and share your feelings. It’s like you reverted to your twenty-five-year-old self.”

All I had to do was give him one look, and Warren cracked up laughing. I couldn’t say he was totally wrong. Zander made me feel young again, but… “I’m not afraid to tell him how I feel.” We were in the locker room now, on a bench, beginning to get undressed. “But I know him. You can’t rush Zander. He needs to come around to things on his own. He’s afraid of getting hurt. Plus, being serious isn’t what he wants. It’s not what we agreed to, which I’ve told you before. It’s not fair to change the rules on him because I’m the old guy who caught feelings for someone who’s not ready to settle down.”

Warren tugged on a pair of shorts. “You’re not old. If you are, that means I am, and I refuse to believe that. Second, even if that means you get hurt? Because you might, and that worries me. Wouldn’t it be better to know now? I mean, I think the kid—man—is crazy about you. He was jealous of me and didn’t like that I had a key when he didn’t.”

I wasn’t sure I agreed about the jealous part, but after that incident, when I mentioned again giving him a key so he didn’t have to wait in his car, Zander had taken it.

“Just because the relationship started out one way,” Warren continued, “it doesn’t mean you did something wrong because your feelings changed. I think you should tell him.”

“I think I still don’t like you.”

Warren shook his head like he didn’t know what to do with me. I got it because that was what Zander did to me. I wasn’t quite sure what to do with myself either. Warren had it right when he said I was like a confused new adult when it came to Zander. He turned me upside down, and goddamn, I liked it. The hardest part was, I’d always prided myself on open and honest communication, but in not telling Zander how I felt, I was doing the complete opposite. I’d never been so scared to be honest before. I didn’t want to lose him.

“Fine, fine. I’ll let it go…for today. Next time I see you, though, we’re gonna have to start this all over again. Just so you know.”

“I would expect nothing else.”

We locked our things away, then carried our racquetball bags toward one of the courts.

“Did he answer about Thanksgiving yet? My husband is losing his shit, and it’s not even at our house. I keep explaining to him that he won’t die if he doesn’t know if Zander’s family is coming or not. He disagrees.”

I ignored the disappointment that parked itself in my gut. I wanted to meet Zander’s family. I wanted him to say yes. But then…what if his mom thought I was too old for him? She was likely right. “Just tell your husband yes.”

“They’re coming?”

“I have no idea. He hasn’t mentioned it, but tell George yes. The extra food won’t hurt anyone.”

“Or you could ask him…”

“I’m going through my midlife immature phase. Didn’t we just go over this?”

Warren chuckled. “I guess you’re right.”

We played three games, and I kicked his ass in two of them, which made me feel better. It was fun beating Warren at anything since he hated losing so much.

We’d showered and changed when he asked, “Are you guys doing anything this weekend?”

“I think we’re going on a hike. I want to take some photos. Zander got me a camera. It’s actually really cool. It’s from the 1950s and—”