“You’ll see,” Wes said, feeling so mischievous…so much more likehimself.
* * *
Art rolledhis bowling ball down the aisle, watching as it veered to the left and knocked two pins down, leaving six standing. “Darn it,” he called out, balling his hand into a fist and grimacing as he spun around to Wes, who sat behind the lane computer, raising his hands in the air as he maintained hislead.
As Art approached, Wes shoved a quarter of his hot dog into his mouth, trying to keep his mouth closed as he grinned, surely because of how excited he was about the prospect of winning. As much of a sore loser as Art was, if he was going to lose, he was glad it was against Wes, since there was something so rewarding about Wes’s exhilaration and how proud of himself he was when he was about to claimvictory.
“You’re up,” Art said as he plopped down in the chair beside Wes and picked up his paper plate with an extra-large slice of mushroom pizza and breadsticks on theside.
They played out the remainder of their game before Wes nailed a strike on his final turn and did a little dance to the disco song blaring in the background. Art shook his head, acting as though he refused to be impressed by Wes’s performance, even though hewas.
Wes planted down in the seat beside him at their lane table. “Thank God we left that other place,” Wes said, grabbing the clear plastic cup with his beer and taking adrink.
“Yes, this has been much more fun. Perfectly happy sitting here with my beer and pizza…thinking about how I’m going to destroy you in this nextgame.”
“I won’t make it easy onyou.”
“I can tell you won’t. And apparently, there’s this bowling pro in you that you should have warned meabout.”
“I used to play with some of the other fathers in a bowlingleague.”
“So many things we still have to learn about each other, Mr.Brenner.”
“What do you want to know? Which decade should we begin with? We have quite a bit of time to cover. Why don’t we just hit it in a five-year period, and if I’m lucky enough to have a second date with you, we can hit another fiveyears.”
“Already thinking about another date?Presumptuous.”
“No, justconfident.”
Art couldn’t keep from grinning, which had happened a lot that night. “You’re conceited. But I likeit.”
“This is very different from when we were younger, isn’t it?” Wes’s brows pulled together, the wrinkles between themdeepening.
“Doesn’t seem as stressful as it used to,” Art replied. “Back then, it was like there were so many questions we were asking, trying to sort out if this was the person we could spend more time with, be committed to for—this is going to sound stupid, but I thought…forever andever.”
“What does that mean—‘forever andever’?”
“That’s what they say, isn’t it? It could never just be if we wanted to spend time with a person or if we were having a good time. It was like I had to pick the right guy for the rest of my life. Did we have things in common? Did our financial situations come together in a way that was mutually beneficial? Did we have the same core values? Too many questions and too much pressure to put on something when you don’t even know if you can toleratesomeone.”
“That sounds incredibly stressful,Art.”
Art took a sip of his beer and set it back on the table. “I think I made it all too important, which is probably why I fell for all the false promises of the men I was with. I used to think I wanted to be in love, but now I realize I only feared being alone. Maybe more importantly, I couldn’t stand the thought of being just with myself, comfortable with myself, but I’ve found my way. I like doing things on my own these days. And it’s nice being out on a date and not trying to figure it out or thinking about what we should be doing, letting it be what it is. Even now, I’m wondering if maybe I’m saying too much, but then I don’t mind. The nice part about everything we’ve done, the walks and talking, is it’s just happened as it’s happened, and I haven’t needed to sit here figuring it out. I kind of like not understandingus.”
Wes’s expression twisted up, looking ever-so-sly as he said, “I’m pretty sure you know what’s happening betweenus.”
“Yes, I do, but I’m surprised at how different it feels in this moment. That I feel so at ease. Thank you for asking me out, Wes. Even if this is the only time, it’s been a lot offun.”
“Barring a medical emergency, it definitely won’t be the lasttime.”
Wes leaned in to him, and Art glanced around at the place, packed mostly with families and what seemed, at least, to be straightpeople.
“What are youdoing?”
“What do you think I’mdoing?”
Despite the nervousness of all his life, despite every reservation he had trained himself to be ready for, he accepted Wes’s kiss, appreciating the confirmation of everything he believed they were sharing and the sensations racing through his body, igniting a spark within him that he had once believed was reserved for hisyouth.
Wes placed his hand against Art’s cheek, rubbing his thumb acrossit.
