My Dream Date

I stopped speaking long enough to shove another bite of waffle in my mouth. Dwayne and Jason ate quietly, attentively, allowing me to, well, waffle on without interruption. Though how Jason’s ever-present shit-eating grin survived each forkful of whatever hash he was devouring, I’ll never know.
“I never thought I’d fall for a guy who raises tigers and cougars for a living. In fact, now that I think about it, I never expected to fall for a guy at all.” I dabbed the napkin to the corner of my mouth. “My whole world had been mapped out, complete with a fancy wedding in a packed church with my mom wailing from the front row. I guess the whole gay thing shattered that dream.”
“Wait. Are you saying your mom doesn’t still want a wedding? I figured she’d bake a cake with a giant dil—”
“Jason, behave,” Dwayne said, his voice indignant but his expression amused. “Let the boy talk. Can’t you see he’s excited?” He motioned with his fork for me to continue.
Jason made a childish face, and the two of them giggled. I cleared my throat to regain the floor.
“Are you two listening?” I tried to sound irritated, but it just came out squeaky. I was too giddy to be upset. “For the first time in a while, I’m really happy. I mean, I was happy with Carter and the kids, but I don’t think I really knew what dating or a relationship was with him.”
Dwayne snorted. “Dating? You moved in after one dinner. That was downright lesbionic of you.”
“Lesbionic?” My brow quirked, and Dwayne smirked. “Never mind. I’m not letting either of you get me sidetracked today. I’m too excited.”
“Lord. Is he pregnant? Am I going to be an uncle? What would that make you, a great-great—” Jason earned a playful slap on the arm from Dwayne.
“No, nobody’s pregnant. But since you brought it up, have I told you how big—”
“YES!” Dwayne said, waving his fork, not realizing there was half a sausage stuck to it. Jason and I burst into laughter that grew louder when the offending sausage flew into the window. He tossed the fork down. “We get it. He’s huge. Practically a python. Move on.”
“Somebody’s sensitive today,” I quipped.
“When he doesn’t get his morning Geritol, this happens,” Jason added.
“I’m only forty-four!” Dwayne said.
I nodded conspiratorially at Jason, as if he’d just made our point for us, then continued. “Donny and I have been dating for a little over four months now, and it’s been great. He’s funny and sweet, but in a strong, real-man way. I love getting to play with the cougars. They’re crazy, always sneaking and attacking. It’s incredible how they coordinate. I never knew cats were that smart.”
“Why do I sense a but coming?” Jason asked.
“But…well…I still haven’t seen him naked, much less done anything with his…python.”
“Wait,” Jason said. “Four months? How do you know he’s huge then?”
“We make out on the couch or in bed. Trust me, it’s easy to feel through his underwear. That thing is—”
“Huge. Yes, yes. We know. Back to the lack of sex, please,” Dwayne said.
I chuckled. It was fun to poke at Dwayne. He was the best friend I’d ever had. Come to think of it, he might’ve been one of the best people I’d ever met. He’d seen me through so much, and never asked for anything in return—other than an occasional shoulder to cry on when one of his twentysomething infatuations moved on to someone closer to their own generation.
Dwayne grounded me, but in a way that made me want to do better, to be better. Do all best friends do that? Or is that unique to best friends who are double your age?
Don’t tell him I said that. He’ll slap you. And me.
“I don’t know what to think. There’s no doubt he likes me—and when we make out, there’s no question he’s attracted. His perky python makes that clear enough. So why aren’t we having sex? Is that weird? Am I thinking too much?”
Jason snorted again. “You’re always thinking too much—unless you’re doing stupid things because you’re not thinking enough.”
“You’re one to talk about stupid, Mr. Rocket Scientist,” Dwayne snarked, then turned back to me. “Have you asked him about it?”
I hesitated. “Well, not really. I mean…we talked a while back about him wanting to wait—”
“But you haven’t talked about your concerns recently?” Dwayne asked.
“They’re not really concerns,” I said, a little too defensively. “I mean, I guess they are. I’m okay waiting for sex, but I’d like to know why. It seems very un-gay of him.”
Dwayne actually spit coffee across the table. It took a couple minutes for him to stop laughing long enough to speak. “You were the most un-gay gay I’d ever met, young man. You have no room to talk there.”
“I don’t know,” Jason said thoughtfully. His sudden seriousness caught my attention. “Maybe Michael has a point. Most guys get naked right out of the gate, or at least early on. They want to see if the magic is there, or if Tab A really does fit into Slot B. Not getting naked after four months is pretty weird.”
Silence hovered over our table until our ever-vigilant waitress, Katie, arrived.
“You three are never quiet. My alarm bells are ringing.” She turned to me with both fists planted on her ample hips. “What did you do?”
“Me? Why me?”
Dwayne and Jason laughed and avoided Katie’s roaming gaze.
“Because silence at this table always revolves around something you’ve done or someone you’re dating. Don’t you read the menu?”
“The menu—” Dwayne spat through hoots. “That’s the best line of the day, Katie. You win.”
“Oh, shut it, old man,” I said, turning back to her. “We’re just talking about a guy.”
“Shocked face,” she said, scooting into the booth beside me. “Out with it. Aunt Katie is here now. Ignore whatever stupidity those two told you.”
“Hey!” Dwayne feigned offense. She raised a brow and he settled back into his seat, unwilling to duel with a superior opponent.
Katie listened attentively as I recounted our conversation, sans the part about the perky python.
“Honey, you need to talk to him. Just ask him why waiting is important to him. If he really cares about you, he’ll appreciate the open dialogue.”
“That’s what I told him,” Dwayne huffed from behind his coffee mug.
“Zip it.” Katie made a zipper signal with her fingers across her lips. “Michael, if you can’t talk openly about everything, he’s not good enough for you. Trust me. I’ve dealt with my share of closed-off men. They’re not worth it.”
There was such sincerity in her eyes. I thought there might’ve been a little pain in there too. As long as we’d been coming to the diner, as many times as Katie had been part of our conversations, I realized we really didn’t know her story at all. I’d have to fix that. Later, after I’d dealt with Mr. No Sex.
“Thanks, Katie. You’re the best,” I said as we hugged.
“Oh, I know. Make Dwayne add a counseling fee to today’s tip.” She winked, grabbed our empty plates, and hustled away.