“In Poland?” I ask.
“It’s a beautiful country, and there’s an old town square. Stuff like that. We could check out some shops or see if there is a gay club.” Hayes looks out the window, but even though the weather is getting brighter by the minute, I can’t see content potential.
“Aisha only wants content connected to the resorts, and I don’t see anyone leaving one of the gorgeous, swanky For Us hotels to hop on a plane here. Aisha knows we’re stuck here until the storm in the south clears. I could hear her sighing in her texts. But think of this as a vacation from our vacation,” I say. Something about being on this detour has created a new era of trust and ease between us although I’m not sure how long it will last.
Hayes sits down next to me and puts his hands behind his head, causing his jacket to open and shirt to ride up. I have to stop myself from sneaking a look at his exposed abs.
“This hasn’t been a vacation. I’ve seen how hard you work. I know you make it all look like we are having a great time and the camera happens to capture a lot of it but it’s more than that. You’ve taken it very seriously. I’m impressed.”
“Thank you,” I say. “I know you hate all this.” I look away from him and out the window, remembering how I tricked him into taking the job.
“Not really. I don’t hate it. I enjoy seeing the new places. I loved the medical museum in Berlin. I just don’t like all the weird fakeness of the social media.”
“You mean like pretending we’re a couple? Pretending to be with me?” I ask, feeling particularly bold.
“I don’t think I’m saying it right.” He lowers his arms and shifts in the lime green chair. “I hate the way everything is posed and pretend. I know that’s the way it has to be for the camera and for the content, but I want to just experience all of it without that.” He pauses and touches his chin with his hand. “I want to travel truthfully.” He says the words slowly and then stares at the bag. “I wish the media kit got lost and we could have some time to explore without worrying about what it looked like or if we are getting the right shots or any of that stuff.”
It’s a lot of work to keep up with the itinerary, and all of it is manufactured. “Well, for the next twenty-four hours there is no checklist we have to follow. Nothing we have to pretend to be enjoying. We get to be in Wielkopolska unburdened by any of that.”
Hayes gets up and looks out the lobby window. The streets are still wet but the sun is shining so the cobblestones look like glittering disco balls. Hayes is hatching a plan. Finally, he turns away from the window and back to me. “We’ve got twenty-four hours here. We don’t have to get any content. So, let’s do it. Let’s just explore this town and see what’s out there, but do it honestly.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
“We’ve been taking video of the best this or the greatest, funnest that. What if we stopped doing that and we only told each other the truth about what we are experiencing, and also… what we are feeling?” He’s sitting down next to me, his hand right next to mine. I don’t know if my skin is buzzing because of the closeness or his provocative suggestion.
“You, Hayes,” I point at him, “are going to tell me,” I point at myself, “the honest truth about what you’re feeling? The man who keeps every emotion so bottled up I think he might explode?”
“Maybe that was the old me. Maybe my liver is not the same as a pig’s liver,” he says with a straight face. I thought he might have lost his mind but now I am sure of it.
“A pig’s liver? What are you talking about?”
“Never mind about that. What do you think?” He gestures like a magician’s assistant out the window. “Poland. The great land of Copernicus, kielbasa, and complete, one hundred percent honesty.”
I’m not sure what happened to him since I dropped him off at the museum but he’s been acting like someone updated his entire operating system. “Sure,” I say, suddenly uneasy about what I might be getting myself into. “I’ll do it if you do it. Let’s make a pact.”
I hold out my hand to shake and he grabs it. I can feel the heat of his body connecting with mine through my palm. “We’ll explore the town and see what’s around, and we’ll do it honestly. One hundred percent, at all times.” He keeps his hand connected with mine and continues to shake. I do the same. “Deal?”
“Deal. One hundred percent honesty,” Hayes says.
The young woman from behind the counter approaches us holding out her fingernails so they continue to dry. “You are the men waiting for room?” she asks. We are the only people in the lobby and maybe the only people in the hotel. “Another twenty minutes,” she says and we both laugh.
Chapter 33
Poznan
Hayes
Each step on the sidewalk is lighter than the step before as we explore the city. Brilliant sunshine drenches the still wet surfaces and makes the concrete glisten. Brady and I walk past the same boring modern business buildings that populate any urban landscape, but also unique, ornate pre-war buildings. Our pace is exactly in sync as we wander.
We stop in front of a restaurant in a perfectly restored turn-of-the-century building that has been freshly painted to reveal the architectural detail in contrasting shades of soft blue and light beige. A brass plate with the wordEscenjais mounted next to the heavy oak door. Through the window I can see a team of servers in black uniforms attending to tables with white tablecloths where men in suits are drinking afternoon cocktails and eating lunch.
“Are you hungry? Thezapiekankawas good but we need a real meal. What about this place?” Brady asks and walks over to the menu, which happens to be in Polish and English. “Wild boar tartare with rosemary oil. Truffled oysters with a saffron reduction. Oh, this sounds good. Fermented essence of cabbage.” He turns back to look at me. “What do you think?”
“If that’s where you want to eat,” I say. The polite words fall out of my mouth.
Brady wags his finger at me. “Hayes, don’t forget where we are. Poland is the land of one hundred percent honesty. How do you really feel?”
So far, our honesty pact has been all low stakes. Which way to turn, what alley to explore. But maybe it’s time to really get things going. “It’s the exact kind of place I hate. Truffled cabbage essence? What the hell is that?” I say the words quickly so they are easier to get out. Brutal honesty is hard even at this level.
