SILENT PARTNERS

In looking back, it will never cease to amaze me how we humans believe we are the creators of our destinies. When in fact, all we’ve created is the excuse that comfort’s us when things don’t turn out as we expect. The reason to that I refer are the labels we have made acceptable over the centuries, such as fate, destiny, or the cliché “it was meant to be” etc. We humans rather than admit that we are not in total control of our direction, we pronounce that things just happened to happen. To be fair things do sometimes seem to occur at random, except we define such occurrences far too loosely. That excuse translates to circumstance, situation, need, or the lack of it.

We are all guilty of being that good old, downright lazy on occasion. We, more often than not, let someone or something, direct our destiny. Why simply because of lack of experience and it was easier? On the other hand, we didn’t have the guts to face it and fail, failing by and large is not a bad thing as long as you learn from the experience. With that said, that is the crux of my story. I was about to meet those life elements, want, need, circumstance, chance, and a hell of a lot more. Yes, I didn’t get it all right, but I was able to get where I wanted to be in spite of myself and maybe with a little help from those elements.

Growing up in a quiet village not so far away, I thought of my life, a life that was to mirror the life of the people around me. Well, you’ll see that didn’t happen because, in my early youth, I hadn’t met the elements I mentioned yet. When I reached my teens, I was to learn what I thought was to be my destiny, was not going to be my life. This country boy also learned that any mold could shatter within a moment of one’s heartbeat. Being naïve was the natural by-product of living in Mayberry-ish USA. That was the result of a lack of life experiences, which are sparse at best. I believe that was from being reared in the traditional style. I’m not saying that’s bad, but not necessarily the form for everyone. I also learned that destiny could be very devious and cunning, and sometimes really downright mean and sneaky.

Destiny took advantage of my youth and inexperience, which I guess goes hand in hand, unfortunately for me, I was taken off guard. My first experience was so subtle that I was unaware that anything had happened. When I did realize it, there was no going back, until I was beyond that point of no return. Let me clarify that I was in hook, line, and sinker, there was no way in Hell that I wanted to go back. Forgive me; I don’t mean to sound melodramatic or mysterious, well, maybe a little, let me explain. My story may not be a unique one, but it sure gave me an excellent ride and looking back, I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

Here goes, as best as I can remember. First off, let me introduce myself, I’m Jake, Jake Roisenier. That place I refer, as not so far away is Pallsmere Vermont. I was born and raised in that sleepy rural aka backward community. As is the rule in every household, the Pallsmere children grew up without elaborate needs and expectations. Trust me; this was a good thing solely because not anything beyond simple was going to happen. Pallsmere’s only claim to fame was that it had become the pit stop for the city folk as we called them. We townspeople considered ourselves blessed for being the perfect distance between several surrounding major affluent cities with people who were accustomed to having everything readily available to them. They, unlike us hicks, had to stop for their cocoa and biscotti break and other acquired indulges they couldn’t live without. They always remarked how wonderful it must be to enjoy the simple life. They were right about simple, I didn’t know what a biscotti was until I was thirteen, and it was always a long cookie to me.

I was never able to figure out if they were complimentary or condescending. As I usually did, I made up the excuse that City folk didn’t know what else to say to hicks. It was kinder to believe it was the grass is greener everywhere else thing. Either way, they visited our perfectly quaint picture postcard countrified hamlet before moving on to our nearby popular ski resorts. Having the only general store that was well stocked with items that City folk can’t live without, was genius. Also, being within easy reach of every chalet, house, or villa rental certainly didn’t hurt. Not only did it bring life to Pallsmere, but the locals also enjoyed a little sense of being alive and were able to see the outside world through our momentary guests. When spring arrived all city things stopped, we would slip back into our meager yet serene existence.

Ski season was vital; the south had their snowbirds as their base economy as we had our snow-bunnies, without them Pallsmere was uneventful. We were the real-life version of the film Brigadoon; we went into a sort of sleep from year to year. I grew up on this cycle of life Pallsmere style, not knowing any other. As you will see, I’ve come to realize I could have been born in far worse places. Then everything changed on my eighteenth birthday, no, not because I became legal. Shit, I was a big boy at twelve, I would have lied through my teeth if the opportunity had presented itself. I think I was ready for sex in grammar school; no, I’m positive I was more than willing.

Now, getting back to that birthday, the feds, sorry the federal government in a moment of being lucid. We assume they threw a dart and decided, via its infinite wisdom, to reactivate a nearby multi-force training facility. In reality, it was a public relations ploy to show the government was always ready to help, right. That facility hasn’t been used for decades because the same government invented a reason at the time that suited some politician’s agenda. The comfortable and accepted explanation was the lords had taken it away and praise the lords they’re giving it back. Unbeknownst to me, this turn of events was to become my best birthday gift ever. Without notice, a point crew arrived on my special day; they swarmed in like bees to pollen. I learned later this was standard government practice; this way, it doesn’t give anyone other than themselves time to think. We may be hicks, but we’re not totally without resources, quiet maybe, but never dumb. The local officials had wind of this possibility but kept it to themselves. They claimed they were working on a strategy so they could negotiate a jobs and impact package to benefit Pallsmere and its residents. Although they did not know what the government would propose, they felt a plan; any plan was better than no plan at all. This way, they could have a starting point to speak intelligently if or when they descended upon Pallsmere.

All things being equal, who knows if their story was true or not, remember they’re politicians. Either way, everyone was elated when the reality of the feds being in town and making their presence public, was a good sign. The overall feeling was euphoric that our little town would be rescued. Moreover, I might add none too soon, ultimately saving Pallsmere from its substantial economic woes. With the center, we would enjoy what some called a boom. We were barely surviving the long and extremely lean, non-snow bunny months. The influx of new blood, of course, some skeptics thought it tainted blood. The consensus of the general populace could care less their new money would be a substantial commercial spike. It would hopefully grow and prop up the town’s almost non-existent economy for decades to come. We might develop into a real city with our own hotel, Movie Theater and who knows what else to serve the visiting mucky mucks.

I now shared my birthday with the most decisive day Pallsmere had ever had to date. As in any small town, word spread like an epidemic, everyone decided to commemorate this occasion by strolling the Avenue. I say the Avenue with tongue in cheek, the Avenue to which I refer is Main Street, which happens to be our only commercial street all three blocks. This day the Avenue had more people walking around than any other time I could recall in my just eighteen years. Even more than a holiday parade day, and that’s saying something. All this to see the preliminary feds scoping us out, how bored were we. Truthfully, I too was mesmerized as everyone else; I meandered down the street, taking in all the excitement. I was amazed as I approached the coffee shop, which seemed to be the center of stirring excitement. I have never seen more than a dozen or so customers at any one time, now had a line outside. Was this a look into Pallsmere’s future, if so we were in for good times?

As if in a trance, my curiosity drew me to peer through its window and to both my amazement and disbelief; it was standing room only with customers waiting along the wall. As I began to turn away, a young officer who I guessed to be around twenty-three caught my eye. I assumed he was an officer judging from his uniform with all the stripes and pins. At that moment I thought how handsome he was, he could have been the national armed services poster person, maybe he was. Our eyes met for what could have not been more than a second. I walked away, thinking about how strange that I liked him. What was more bizarre was thinking of how I could instantly like someone I haven’t met? At that moment, I experienced this foreign twinge in my stomach; once it subsided, I pushed it to the back of my mind, thinking no more of it. Later on, I would come to know that, in that nanosecond was the beginning of something that a roaring train would not be able to stop. The excitement died down, and several weeks later, Dad brought up graduation, and the school year nearing its end. What he was really saying was that I better secure a job or work with him. Being a typical teenager, I felt that was a fate worse than death. He also mentioned the word around was that the new training center was hiring trainees. The next morning I awoke determined to find a job, any job rather than succumb to that fate. Don’t get the wrong idea, Dad’s a great guy at being my Dad, but as Dad, my boss, I don’t think so.

The following day I had track practice in the afternoon; truthfully, I just run, I’m not a great runner but not a bad one either. I’ve won a few meets and medals, but nothing to get me to the Olympics. In hindsight, I’m sure it was just something to work off those all too often pressures, you know those feeling’s everyone avoided mentioning. The word pressure was code for horny, of course, theGod fearing folks didn’t say horny in public. Before going to the track, I took a detour to the student’s hall to see if any of the area firms or merchants had posted any jobs. The board was practically bare as usual except for one iridescent yellow flyer reading in large blue letters IMMEDIATE TRAINEE PLACEMENT AVAILABLE. I read further, thinking good old Dad was dead on. The new training center was looking for trainees in their Special Services unit whatever that was.

Rumor had it that the feds agreed to the quid pro quo agreement that the city council had drawn up and presented. It sure didn’t take them long to create available jobs for the residents to seal Pallsmere’s blessing. The training center would undoubtedly squash the fears of a jobless class of 2007, and I could be one of the graduates reaping the reward. This way, I could be part of the coo by the local officials who assured the Pallsmere residents that this would create trickle-down spending of wages fulfilling the promise of new money. Of course, it also gave them great exposure and name recognition in the apparent not mentioned upcoming elections. I told coach a white lie, saying I had to go for an application because Dad said no job, no end of year track. As I approached the complex, I thought these people really work fast. They had managed to change the entire approach area outside the main gate to a greeting area complete with four one-story prefabricated buildings and even blacktopped a parking area. Impressive, it just shows you what the government can do when it suited them. This complex was constructed with a considerable helping of look at us America served with a good measure of a self-serving undercurrent.

I, of course, being wrong way Corrigan, as I’ve been called too many times, went into the wrong building. After wasting so much time navigating the maze, I finally ran into someone to direct me to the hiring office. Of course, by this time I found the office, it had closed minutes before. Disappointed, no I was totally pissed at myself for wasting a perfectly good lie I left slightly deflated. As I approached my car, pulling into the next spot was the handsome officer from the coffee shop. He said hi and asked if I had found what I was looking for? My mind silently thanked God, I think my lips said yes sir, but I couldn’t swear to it. At the same time, while my lips told him why I was there, my eyes couldn’t get enough of him, he was godlike. The mystery of the twinge was gone, I knew now the Why, and where it came from. The difference was this time no pushing it out of my head, I acknowledged it. He informed me of what I had just found out that I had just missed them. He offered to deliver my application first thing in the morning. I looked into those eyes to answer; I felt strange, new feelings washed over me. I distracted myself by acknowledging in my mind that I had never seen eyes like that ever. Silently f course, I was like a crazy person what did these feelings mean? Was I attracted to him, is this what you feel when you want someone in this way?

Forcing myself out of a self-induced stupor, I told him thanks, but no such luck that I had come hoping to get and fill out an application. He asked if I had time to go to the commissary, that he may be able to get me a job application. I replied that I had to get home, ignoring my reply, he continued that the hiring sergeant is usually there having dinner. I thought why not, this is opportunity knocking here, besides I’d probably make it home in time. If I were late, I had three good reasons for being late, seeing the center, the hiring person, and mostly spending time with him. If I valued my life, that last idea would not be shared with my parents. Not that you haven’t figured it out already, I’m gay, not that I’ve had a gay encounter. Truthfully, I’m sort of ashamed to say that I’ve never had real sex, sex like with another person. So how do I know I’m gay, well how does anyone know anything except that you know? I may still be a virgin, but I do know what kind of sex I want to have when I finally get to have it.

My mind was racing only thinking it would be great if it were with the coffee shop officer. I’m not saying that this guy is gay; but honestly and selfishly, I thought to myself please god let him be. Okay, maybe he’s just a nice guy, but hey, fantasy is fantasy and so what the Hell I’m going for it. Then I did something that I do on a somewhat regular basis, I told myself to shut up. As we pass the gate, he announced to the guards that I was with him, which had a beautiful ring to it. They saluted and barked yes sir, he saluted back at them, and Bam I was on base. As we walked toward the commissary, he apologized for not introducing himself. He then told me he was special agent Sanderson, Nicholas Sanderson. I, in turn, told him mine was Jake, and I don’t know why I just said Jake no last name. Then he threw me off center saying, now we can put names to the faces. I stood there without expression. He continued the coffee shop window in town several weeks back, you were peering through the window we glanced at each other for a moment. I don’t know why, but I lied, I said I don’t recall, his eyes told me he knew I was lying. He was gracious; he let the lie and the awkward moment slide. It was then I vowed never to lie to him again.

We entered this large building labeled commissary, but in reality, it was an entertainment complex for kids, big kids. It had everything imaginable and more. He went right to the corner table, parked me there while he got us colas. Oddly, at that very moment, watching him walk away, I knew he was going to be more to me than a passing acquaintance. My gut chimed in, telling me to stop dreaming. I filed it under wishful thinking, this time, I urged my gut to shut up. He returned and made small talk inquiring about what I did for fun and if I had ever been to Boston. My reply was short and honest, not much, and never, I turned the question around. He smiled and answered many things, and when we got to know each other better, he’d like to show me and that he was from Boston. Silently I thought and hoped I didn’t imagine what he meant, and if he said what I thought he meant, then I’d hit the jackpot. I swear he read my mind; his face lit up with that smile a smile that could have lit the entire eastern seaboard. Thinking back, that’s when I knew it had started; the train had left; actually, it barreled out of the station. the station

Mid colas, he excused himself to see if his friend had finished dinner. He returned a few minutes later an older guy who he introduced as Gregory Mynor, a non-enlisted hiring officer. Even being non-military, that sounded like an oxymoron big time. I thought all non-military were called civilian’s but hey, what did I know? Unknowingly, I think I had what must have been the fastest interview in recorded history. He pointed out the job’s essential duties, got up to leave, and asked if starting the next afternoon was okay. I sprang up and said an absolute yes. I thanked him, and he went back to whatever he was doing before my benefactor corralled him. I turned to thank my new friend, mid-sentence I realized the time, I apologized because I had to leave. Being late and knowing that keeping Dad waiting for dinner at my house was not acceptable. Sensing my angst, Nick suggested I call home to tell Mom and Dad that I was awaiting my interview for a job, and they were running late. And while I was at it, to say to them, I was offered a bite in the commissary on them, of course, that’s what I did.

After our burgers and fries, Nick escorted me back to the gate. I was totally at a loss for words; I didn’t know what to say I had thanked him so much that it was getting old. I didn’t know how to let him know I was interested, and there was the possibility that I was barking up the wrong tree. At the same time, I didn’t want to overplay my interest if he were, hey, I was new at this. When we finally reached my car, which seemed like forever, I was mentally exhausted from my brain racing like never before. Not waiting for my brain to calm down I stupidly let my naïveté reared its big ugly head. Involuntarily I blurted out that I enjoyed being with him and sincerely hoped we would see each other soon, very soon. I think I over stressed with the very, I’m sure he found it amusing, but he just smiled. As I started my car, he said that he would stop by my office the next day if that were okay. I smiled the biggest smile, and he knew it was more than okay. I thought tomorrow wasn’t soon enough, by his expression, I sensed he knew what I was thinking.

I worked every afternoon until graduation; Nick always managed to be available on my break times and even drove me home on a few occasions when my car was on the Fritz, we became inseparable. I often wondered why he hadn’t gotten any flak from his peers about his interest in this civilian. Later he was to tell me he told them it was part of his job to help the newbies. Afterward, I was to find out his overall position was public relations. I couldn’t believe this country boy hit the nail on its head, I said he was their poster boy. He added that he had told everyone that my Dad was a friend of someone very high up and his orders were to take me under his wing. Being that executive favors were not uncommon, the explanation flew. Then the rue test pursued, Nick was to report to Washington and points beyond. He said he’d be back in a month, I’d be without him for the first time. On the day he left, that’s when the center became a job. I tried to convince myself that a month is not that long, and I still had school and track to keep me busy. That month turned into six weeks, and I directed my energies to help the team become finalist against Neelan High and hopefully the year’s champions. I’m not sure, but the team was on a roll, maybe because of my focused efforts we made the finals. If this kept up, we had a shot to go out winners.

Nick secretly returned the day before the meet. He called the coach and told him that he had planned a surprise party on base win or lose. Unfortunately, he had to console the team on our loss; personally, as far as I was concerned, Nick being there would have been enough of a win for me. After the game, I discovered that Nick was there, which puffed me up beyond words. In the locker room licking our wounds after the ill-fated match, trying to figure where we all go to celebrate the end of school, hey any excuse, remember we were eighteen-year-olds. When we finally managed to get to the parking lot, there was Nick with all our parents standing in front of the rest of the town to greet us. I was thrilled and so proud when Nick announced that he had arranged for the base buses to bring the team and their families for a non-victory celebration on base. With school and the meet behind us in no way did anyone care about the party’s title, a good time was had by all. I asked Nick how he convinced the big wigs to let him do this, he said he presented it as goodwill and great media photo op.

I was on a personal roll; the best of the best was when I noticed Nick sitting in the last row at graduation. I inwardly hoped he would come but didn’t make much of it to him. But when I scanned the crowd, there was my Nick, to me the only one in the room. Dad said he thought it strange how we became such fast friends. I lied, and it hurt to say that we were work friends, not friend friends. He seemed to accept that, and heaven only knows what made me smart enough to shut up and not elaborate. Because in reality, I knew we weren’t friends, we were a lot more, it just didn’t happen yet. Mom being Mom invited Nick to dinner, and he now was officially an intricate part of the fabric of my life. Somehow, I knew that Mom knew that Nick meant more to me than I let on. She would become my advocate in smoothing things over when we broached the subject of Nick. Those first weeks of being, a full-timer was genuinely life-changing. Mom couldn’t get over that I was up before the alarm, ditto. It all but had solidified her suspicions of my love for Nick and our pending relationship before it happened. She saw the changes coming and loved me enough to allow my growth. She also knew how elated I was and saw that it was time that I lose restrictions of a parent’s parameter; my time was my own to navigate.

I was now a working adult; I had dinner at the commissary with Nick more often than not without having to make up an excuse. I did continue honing up on my white lies to keep things on an even keel, no point in hurting anyone’s feelings. If I had really worked all the supposed overtime, I’d be rolling in dough. It was like a secret code they never questioned it, and I never volunteered. Then after the third week, it happened. I guess since I hadn’t made a move or given him a proper opening, which I admit was out of fear and lack of experience. Nick said we had to have a one on one talk, and if I could, it would be great if we got away for a weekend. Wow, finally I think something is going to happen, maybe. After saying sure, I had to give birth to another white lie. For the first time in a long time, I couldn’t wait to get home to get it over with. I found my parents in their pre-programmed seats watching the boob tube. I told them that a bunch of the staff was going to Boston and I was thinking of going with them. It unnerved me that I was getting good at this lying thing. Surprisingly, my father was all for it, he encouraged me to go and see a few things before I got married.

Hearing those, words defined the expression of a light going off in one’s head. That statement opened my eyes; I felt it through my entire being. Not knowing why I felt so bad, his words opened up a corridor in my mind that I never traveled. All I could think of was, was that something he didn’t get to do when he was young. Does he have a haunting feeling that he’s missed out a lot in his life? Was I the circumstance that boxed him in, was I the reason for what is now his life, their lives? I grew up plenty at that moment; from then on, I looked at him and Mom through different eyes. Funny, actually maybe not so funny, you never think of your parents as being subject to the same ills of life. We spend our entire youth looking up to these gentle giants not realizing that we were actually looking through them, passing what the reality is. As Nick pulled up to the house on the Friday of our weekend, I had to flip the lie, which I guess its lie number, shit whatever I lost count. I told Mom and Dad that the group fell apart, but Nick and I were still going because he didn’t want to disappoint his Mom whom he’d promised a visit, besides I really wanted to see Boston. Once in the car, I quickly shed the guilt, I had wished I didn’t have to tell these lies. Except I was learning, one must do what one must do.

On the drive down, there was a strangeness in the air; there wasn’t that natural ease of conversation, not that there wasn’t any. Nick was quieter than usual; actually, it felt strange because when we were together, Nick has never been silent. By the time we approached the Boston area, I had convinced myself that I was barking at the moon. I had made this more than it was. I wanted it so much no matter what, I’d handle my disappointment in silence. Minutes later, as we passed a sign that read city limits, it was as if we crossed over an invisible line, everything began to change. Nick rocked his head from side to side like a boxer before entering the ring. Then he sat more erect, cleared his throat, and announced it was time for “The Talk.” I thought, where in Hell did this come from? Nervously looking at his profile, I repeated his words, “The Talk.” Ignoring my response, he continued to say if what he had to say doesn’t go as e sincerely hoped, he’d appreciate if I would not think less of him. Moreover, he hoped that I wouldn’t freak out.

He hadn’t looked at me since he began to speak so he couldn’t see that it was too late for that, I was already there, and I was freaked. Silently I expected and felt what I thought to be an impending mini-nervous breakdown. Now the silence took on a different turn, I cherished it, in fear of what was coming. He continued by saying that he needed to know if we were on the same wavelength? I replied that if I knew the frequency and what he was talking about, there might be a possibility that we would find out. Nick continued with, okay, first off, that he knew I lied about the coffee shop moment and didn’t understand why. Unable to breathe, I said nothing, when I collected myself, I apologized for lying. I stated it wasn’t really lying, it was more than I was unsure and the self-preservation gene kicked in, or it was reasonable old fashioned fear. He continued by saying like it or not, right or wrong, he had fallen in love with me the moment our eyes met that day. I was back to not breathing, he added, for the record and for honesty’s sake, I just didn’t to be in the parking lot by chance that first evening. He had waited around daily because he knew; no, he hoped I would apply for a position. Now that it was out in the open, he prayed that I felt the same way.

A strange new feeling came over me, I froze at the moment, and time seemed to stop. Yet my mind raced a zillion miles a minute; I thought I had that stroke. What was I to say, do I scream yes, I do love you too, or play it cool with oh yeah I like you? All I could get out of my mouth calmly was to please pull over; by the look on his face, he thought that his confession was one huge mistake. Once parked, I pulled him to me; I kissed and kissed him, and as he kissed me back, I told him tens of times how happy I was. I now found the courage to announce that if he hadn’t made his move this weekend, I was going to give him a similar speech, we laughed and kissed again, and I could not stop kissing him, I never wanted to stop. Of course, we did stop; I had never felt such a deep feeling for another person ever. The only redeeming feature n stopping was the anticipation of what was to follow at the hotel. As luck would have it, checking in at the front desk, I experienced another milestone, I learned another deep feeling, torture. The check-in was beyond brutal; the desk clerk was new, like his first day New, he could not get that fucking computer to spit out our room key. No matter how he tried, he came up short, I had to walk away several times mumbling to myself, trying not to let him see my frustration. This course of action failed because all I did was succeed in making the poor guy even more nervous, which of course slowed the damned procedure even more.

Finally, getting to our room with the door shut behind us everything I ever dreamt of happened, twice. It was one of the rare times; I was thrilled with being young. We only left the room to grab a sandwich and back to the job of exploring my new exciting favorite pastime. The following morning Nick seemed preoccupied and I, being new at this and being young, this time not in a good way. Immediately I imagined that he had thought he’d made a mistake with me. I also felt that I had displeased him in some way, and he was having second thoughts? Maybe I was just a conquest met; hey, youth also has its drawbacks like insecurity. Rather than succumb to assuming, I gently coaxed and I like to believe charmed it out of him. In very little time, he told me that there was more to him than meets the eye. I agreed and was absolutely grateful. He declared that he wasn’t speaking of his body or the sex. He fidgeted for a time, and then he finally collected his thoughts. I think the only reason he continued was out of pity, judging from the look of fear that must have been on my face. I wasn’t sure what feelings to have, I knew whatever it was I didn’t want to hear it. That’s when he blurted out that he was married.

Talk about rocking someone’s world, my fear turned into absolute horror. Here, I thought, this was the beginning of love and all it was, was a weekend tryst. Married, the sound repeated in my brain I reeled from it. I never thought this was the way my first relationship would go, sharing the person I loved. Ashamed of myself, here I was the first time out of the box, and I’ve struck out, not a confidence builder. Disappointment turned to total panic, not letting him finish. I was busy wallowing in what was both self-pity and sheer embarrassment. Now I cursed my youth consoling myself with, this wouldn’t have happened if I weren’t an inexperienced hick, a good defense in a pinch. When I came back to myself somewhat, he continued to speak, but I was unable or maybe unwilling to hear anymore. I refused to listen to what I now was totally convinced was a pretense. He moved to hold me; I sharply pulled away. I also realized my near nakedness and was instantly uncomfortable.

Furious and embarrassed of the ease of him being able to create this deception, hating the way this all turned out, my feelings of being used. As he reached out again, I raised my voice with an authority that even surprised me to stop. I told him this tryst was over and that I would find my own way to Pallsmere. His expression completely changed, I looked at his face, his lips moved without sound. I thought the trauma of this hurt, had deafened me. As he begged to explain I half-dressed, grabbed the rest of my things and ran out into the hallway, in doing so, I startled a departing guest, he questioned if I were all right. I nodded that I was and lied saying I was late for a train, he said he was passing the station and offered me a ride, I accepted. That Monday morning, I felt the adult thing to do was to report to work as usual. I had convinced myself the awkwardness was still better than going back to work with Dad. Everyone questioned where Nick was, I said all I knew he went to visit his Mom in Boston. That lie wasn’t a white one, let’s say it was boarding gray. It flew for the first couple of days, then they became more intensified. Questions like, did you guys have a fight? My pat answer was, a fight about what; we know each other for three minutes.

Weeks passed, and the questions lessened to almost none. I admit I pined for him every waking moment but kept a calm poker face. The rumblings of anger kept me going, but I managed to keep a relaxed front. Then one late afternoon at the end of my shift a wet behind the ears soldier, I had never seen came marching in, stating I was to report to the commander’s office immediately. I thought shit here we go, the Lord giveth and he now is going to taketh away. Nick got me the job, and now he was shedding his bad investment and moving on. My wait outside the commander’s office seemed endless, I was so uneasy I began to pace to ease my tension. When the door opened, I entered an empty ante office thinking to myself two more minutes of this crap, and I’m history, job, or no fucking job. I wasn’t in the mood to hear the sorry but goodbye bullshit speech. The voices in the next office were saying their goodbyes, with that, the door opened. There he stood, my first, only and ever so brief encounter. We just stared at each other and said nothing, and then he closed the door and started his approach toward me.

I broke the silence, stating I was there to see the commander. Nick replied that he had the soldier lie to get me there, I must have turned blood red. I was pissed that he had won round two, I’m sure he read my mind, he was good at it. He quickly apologized for having to lie, saying the only reason he did was and we both knew I wouldn’t come if he hadn’t. There I stood absorbing my first bit of drama, as, in any emotion, it was strangely exciting. Being a teenager with intense feelings of inadequacy, I wanted to die on the spot. I didn’t address the issue further; instead, I asked if I still had a job and if this meeting didn’t pertain to business related I’d like to leave. Ignoring me, he asked if I could please be silent. He probably wanted to scream for me to shut up. He maintained his calm and requested a moment to explain, dumb pride spoke without thought, I spit out a resounding no. By the look on his face, I knew I wasn’t leaving that office without hearing his story. Breaking another one of those long silences, I asked what could he possibly say or explain that would make up for his rape and battering of my emotions. Then in a very matter of fact, under no uncertain terms voice he said that he loved me, and if I would just take a breath, I’d know it.

I stepped back, and after that, proclamation kept quiet, he then continued stating the scenario I created was nowhere remotely close to the truth. If I stayed long enough to listen, I would have heard the fact that he loved me, needed me and it was only me. Abruptly I came back with, whose truth? I expressed firmly that I couldn’t understand why he didn’t mention being married. He remained silent, I brought out he could have brought her up during one of the countless conversations we’ve had over the months of supposed friendship. He admitted he ashamedly had no answer to my query other than the fear of my reaction; you see where that got him. He continued, that in the future, of course, if I allowed us to have a future. That I shouldn’t run off without discussing the problem at hand. Okay, so maybe on that count he was right, but it pissed me off that he was flipping this scenario.

I thought what balls, was he was trying to make me the culprit; no way was I succumbing to that bullshit. After all, I wasn’t the one with a secret wife. After he finished his mini-speech, another one of those damn silent moments, this time he broke the silence. Looking at him, I thought he must have paid someone to do the lighting in that office, he looked spectacular. He told mentioned he needed my forgiveness, he convinced me to call home and continue our talk over dinner. When he suggested his apartment, I firmly refused, the lighting wasn’t that good, and as much as I wanted too, I was no longer that naïve. Even I could figure out I wouldn’t have a chance in Hell alone behind closed doors with him.

Our private dinner ended up outside some greasy burger joint in his SUV. His story was long and involved, I wondered if he was dragging out this story to wear me down. It took two burgers, three sodas and a box of crappy cookies and three trips to the head. His bottom line was that he is a married man was to be the least of it. Part of it sounded like an old movie, coming from a very wealthy old Boston family, the arranged marriage necessary to squash the gay rumor thing. Being married enabled him to shed the playboy image making him less attractive to the media. It also allowed him to become a career air force officer and kept things open for other family aspirations, what aspirations I didn’t ask? Rereading my mind, I hated that he could do that, he promised we would talk about them at length at the right time. Okay, I thought it best not to go there if he wasn’t ready. I’ll give him the bottom line being someone’s husband gave him both the perfect cover and total freedom. The air force exonerated him from the everyday drudgery required of a supposed husband, which was a plus. I stood there wondering if I should ask what she got out of the relationship, again I didn’t ask. I’ll tell you it’s unnerving, he reread my mind. He explained she was in the right place at the right time, she was someone’s poor cousin a million times removed. His Mother knew her life’s ambition was to be an indulged misses of anyone of high society, being extremely lazy was her other strong suit. Mother took care of the details, who would have guessed. His only requirement was to escort his faux wife to public functions when available for the occasional photo op and be present for a holiday or two to keep the farce on an even keel.

So like in most fairy tales, pun intended they lived separately happily ever after lives of their own choosing, a win-win. This arrangement was perfect while Nick played around and was content in his secret gay playboy Sexcapades. What kept this perfect formula perfect was that Nick had never fallen in love with his brief encounters. This give and take stuff was foreign to him; Nick was a premier charter member of the pants off, pants on, it was fun, see ya club. However, Nick never figured on what happened that day at the coffee shop. Nick felt something he had never felt before; a craving that wasn’t solely sexual. As in most first attraction’s, a sexual attraction was undoubtedly part of it. But it was this new craving that had to be explored and now. By the time he was able to reach the outside, the vision in the window was gone, who was he and how would he find him?