Page 6 of Comforting the Grump
“Is everything okay?” Luke’s voice pulled me back, his brow creased with concern.
“Of course,” I said a little too quickly, offering him a smile that felt like it might crack at any minute. “Just realized I’m being a bit…loud.” The last word came out as a whisper, betraying my faltering bravado.
“Nonsense,” he replied, though his gaze briefly flitted to the other diners before returning to mine. “Your stories are captivating.”
“Thanks.” I sipped my red wine, hoping the rich flavor would ground me, but the ruby liquid couldn’t wash away the creeping self-consciousness.
Luke leaned forward, the soft glow of the overhead lamp illuminating the flecks of darker blue in his eyes. “You’re amazing, Ennio. You’re so uniquely you. I love it.”
Did he? Was it unfair to hold the flicker of rejection I’d spotted in his eyes when he’d seen me against him?
As our meal continued, I tried to focus on the rich marsala sauce, the juiciness of the chicken, and how perfectly it had been prepared. Still, the weight of watchful eyes pressed down on me, heavy and unrelenting. Snippets of hushed whispers reached my ears and flickers of judgment radiated from glances that lingered a beat too long.
Luke’s laughter, rich and warm, spilled over the table as he finished another amusing anecdote about a client he’d treated. Despite the symphony of our easy chatter, I couldn’t shake the dissonance within me. Luke was charming and kind, but we weren’t meant to ever share more than a meal. It was a bittersweet epiphany, cloaked in the warmth of newfound friendship rather than the heat of passion. Even the most delightful company couldn’t conjure a romantic connection out of thin air, and that realization stung.
I pushed back the last remnants of the superb pana cotta since I couldn’t possibly eat more. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve enjoyed tonight.” My smile was both genuine and tinged with melancholy. “You’re incredible, truly, and this”—I gestured vaguely at the space between us, the candlelight flickering shadows across our meal—“has been wonderful.”
He set down his fork, his brow creasing ever so slightly. “But?” he prompted gently, his intuition catching the unspoken words still dancing on my tongue.
The weight of my confession pressed against my chest, but I refused to pretend. “But I don’t feel that…spark. You know, that zing that tells you there’s something more or at least a possibility of more?”
His eyes met mine, clear and understanding, and he nodded. “I get it, Ennio. I’ve had a fantastic time talking to you. There’s no denying you’re one of the most vibrant people I’ve ever met. But I feel the same. We’re missing that romantic connection.”
A mix of relief and disappointment surged through me. “I’m glad you understand.”
We said goodbye with a lingering hug, the kind that spoke volumes more than words ever could. “Thanks for a wonderful evening,” I murmured into his shoulder, my voice sincere despite the emotions churning inside me.
“Thank you. You’re delightful, Ennio, and I wish you all the best.” He kissed my cheek and walked away.
I started the short walk back to my car, the heels of my boots clicking rhythmically against the pavement. The restaurant was only one town over, so it wouldn’t take me more than ten minutes to get home.
I loved Forestville. Always had, always would. The little town, nestled among the firs and snow-capped mountains, had always been my home, but the world was vast. Maybe it was time to look beyond these mountain shadows.
Seattle. Could I find what I was looking for in the vibrant pulse of the city? Seattle’s vast dating pool shimmered invitingly. Surely, among the throngs of gay men there, there would be someone who could embrace my vibrancy, match my passion—someone for whom my heart would sing.
I could head there on my days off, perhaps. Set up a few dates beforehand so I wasn’t wasting my time. Or hit the gay clubs there. I was a bit old for the clubs, but Marnin scored there all the time, so maybe they were worth a try.
Wait. Marnin. He had a condo in downtown Seattle. A condo with a nice guest bedroom, from what Auden had told me. Could I ask Marnin if I could stay with him while there? That would save me a fortune in hotel fees. I could hook up elsewhere if needed—I wassonot having sex in my brother’s best friend’s condo—but I’d have a place to stay.
I’d see him at Violet’s birthday party, so I’d find a private moment and ask him. He wouldn’t refuse me. Marnin was allbark and no bite, I had discovered, and his prickly exterior didn’t scare me one bit.
My plan made, I already felt better as I turned into my driveway. Finding love was no easy path, especially for someone who wore his heart not just on his sleeve but emblazoned across his entire being. But love was out there. I had to believe that.
Somewhere out there was my other half. All I had to do was find him.
3
MARNIN
Ipulled up to Auden and Keaton’s place as the sun began its lazy descent, painting the horizon in shades of orange and purple that even a grumpy bastard like me couldn’t ignore. Fall was coming, so we’d better enjoy the last hoorah of summer while we could. Stepping out of the car, I took a moment to take a deep breath—a futile attempt to compose myself for the inevitable onslaught of social interaction that awaited inside.
I knew this house well because it was where Auden had grown up. I’d spent countless hours here—more than I’d probably spent at my own house, to which I’d never had any attachment. I’d inherited it after my father had died, but I’d instantly had it bulldozed, then sold the land and donated the proceeds to a charity that took in homeless queer kids. Boy, that would’ve pissed my father off.
But I had nothing but wonderful memories of this house. The cozy garden in the back was ablaze with festivity—streamers danced from the trees in a cacophony of colors, balloons bobbed at the entrance gate, and a handpainted banner readingHappy 17th, Violethung between two trees. They’d set up tables with flowery tablecloths that looked cozy under the soft lights thathung from every tree. It was the kind of over-the-top cheer that set my teeth on edge, but for Auden’s kids, I’d endure a thousand such displays.
A decent crowd had already gathered, a throng of teenagers in the front yard and the adults in the back, where I spotted Auden setting up the grill.
“Uncle Marnin!” Violet’s voice cut through the chatter as I stepped into the garden, her eyes lighting up in the way that only a teenager’s could when they were truly delighted. She looked so much like me it was unsettling sometimes, but right now, all I saw was the kid who had somehow wormed her way into the soft parts of my hardened heart.