691 Suburban Dr By Natty Soltesz
Darrin wasn't forthcoming about the details of his breakup, but from what I could tell he'd essentially kicked Fallon to the curb. I couldn't judge him for it – I really had no idea what was going on between them when I wasn't around.
The disturbing thing was, if I was being honest with myself, a part of me wanted Fallon to disappear. There were new feelings and experiences associated with Fallon that I was hesitant to process.
The more I thought about it the more I realized I owed her a phone call. But I never got a chance to make it, because about a week after I got back from my fuckfest with Darrin and Randy, Fallon called me. I was smiling as soon as she said my name, and I could tell that she was glad to be talking to me, too.
"I'm in your neighborhood," she said. "For work, just for today and the next. Wanna grab a drink?"
We made plans for that evening at a snooty bar a few blocks from my apartment. I got there before her and ordered an overpriced drink from the model-hot bartender. Fallon strode in a few minutes later; confident, gorgeous – every eye turned to look at her.
We hugged. Her smell was familiar. "This place looks fancy," she said. I nodded, suddenly wondering why I'd taken her here rather than the Sod. Something told me Fallon would be more comfortable at a dive bar than at a yuppie lounge that sold twenty types of single-malt scotch to lawyers and drug reps. She ordered an eight-dollar gin and tonic and we settled into our barstools.
"I'm glad you wanted to get together," she said, twisting her glass on the bar. "I know that things are a little awkward."
"I meant to call you. I'm sorry you and Darrin broke up." Fallon waved her hand to dismiss the thought.
"You guys have kept in touch, I hope?" she said.
"Yeah."
"Have you seen him lately?" she asked.
"Yeah..." I said.
"That's okay," she said, leaning back. "I actually don't want to know about it. But I am glad you guys are still friends." She took a gulp of her drink. "I'm sorry our last couple of conversations were so weird."
"It's okay," I said. I was treading lightly.
"I feel like I suggested that you had something to do with the problems we were having. And it wasn't that."
"Okay," I said.
"Our breakup was bad. For me. It shocked me. But I'm starting to realize that it was probably for the best. Really, things hadn't been perfect before we brought you into the fold. Having you there...well, it was great. But it was like a band-aid on a gushing wound. I would never blame you for it ending. I only have fond thoughts about our times together."
"I bet they're fond," I said.
"Oh hell yeah," Fallon said, laughing. "I mean, Nate, what we had was a culmination of what I'd wanted for so many years. It was beautiful. I'll never regret any of it, for that very reason." I nodded. We drank our drinks.
"The things I said to you...obsessing over whether I was ruining your relationship with Darrin...they came from this self-defeating place. I thought I'd gotten over that, but...you know, sometimes it's easier to like, take yourself out of the equation. There's less pressure to own up to what you really want."
"I'm acting like I understand what I'm talking about but I really don't," she said. "I am in therapy," she added, giving me a cockeyed grin.
"I support that," I said.
"Thank you. It probably should have happened a long time ago." She took a deep breath. "I need a fucking cigarette," she said, and made eye contact with the sexy bartender. He came over immediately. "You got a cigarette I could bum?" she asked. "Sure thing," he said, and walked away, reaching under the far end of the bar.
"You know you can't smoke in here, though, right?" he said, handing it to her.
"That's cool," she said.
"You don't look like you're from around here so I wasn't sure if you knew," he said. Fallon smiled at him.
"I appreciate it," she said.
"No problem," he said, holding her gaze.
Fallon laughed once we got outside.
"That bartender is smoking hot and he wants you," I said.
"He's too straight," she said. "You can just tell. He'll be married in two years working some fuckoff corporate job, his wife shitting out kids."
"You can tell all that by looking at him?"
"These are the types of guys who want to date me, Nate. They're a dime a dozen. It's an educated guess," she said, and took a drag.
"You could get him though. That's what I'm envious of. I'd just fuck the shit out of him and kick him to the curb."
"I'm not gonna pick him up for you," Fallon said, snubbing the cigarette butt against the side of the building. I cringed, but really, I deserved it: I had been considering the possibility after all.
When we finished our drinks Fallon asked if I could drive her back to her hotel. We got in my car and headed downtown. I assumed that Fallon just wanted to hang out some more – it was what I wanted, too – but as we drove I began to feel unsure.
When we got to her room we threw on the TV. I sat on the chair and she lay back on the bed and flipped channels. We settled on an episode of Hoarders.
"Nate. I hope this doesn't sound weird," Fallon said. I turned to look at her. "I just wonder...did you miss me? Or would you miss me?"
"If what?" I said.
"If we never saw each other again? I don't know."
"Is that going to happen?"
"I don't want that to happen. I guess that's what I'm saying. Not that I feel like we have to talk to each other every day or something. Or even every month. But I feel like we had something. Even independent of Darrin."
"I don't want that to happen either," I said.
"Good," she said. We watched the TV.
"Is it okay if I lay next to you?" I asked.
"Yes," she said. I got on the bed next to her.
"Hey Fallon," I said.
"Yeah?"
"Is it okay if we don't have sex right now?"
She laughed. "I was going to ask you the same thing."
"Really?"
"Yeah. I didn't bring you up here for that."
"I didn't come up here for that," I said, and exhaled. I had a thought. "Can I maybe spend the night, though?"
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I don't really feel like going home. Only if you want to, though," I said.
"Okay," she said. Her tone sounded as unsure as I felt. I felt even less sure as we undressed, turned out the lights, and got under the covers. I laid there next to her, our bodies not touching, as time edged along. I listened to her breathing, to my own breath. The longer I lay there the more I felt my thoughts start to drift, my breathing get deeper; until I finally drifted off.
When I woke it was the middle of the night. Fallon's leg was against mine and it felt good. I kept breathing, going in and out of sleep for the rest of the night. Sometimes Fallon would be still, sometimes she'd move around. Our bodies would touch and it was warm and reassuring.
When we woke a few hours later sunlight was streaming in behind the drapes. Fallon had a meeting so I got dressed beside her, then headed out.
"I'll be in touch," she said.
"I will be too." We have kept those promises.
I still get lonely sometimes. Here I am, thirty one years old, and I'm truly alone for the first time in my life. Well, living alone anyway. In college I had Darrin and Randy. Then I had Jordan – who might not have been much, but he was something. At this point in my life I'd rather be alone than barking up the wrong tree.
Sometimes I feel like I can't bear the weight of my loneliness. But eventually I remember that I do have people. Like Kate, and Charlie, and their new baby Chuck. I babysit for them on a regular basis. I hold Chuck and change his diaper and put him to sleep. I love that baby.
I have Fallon. We talk on the phone and sometimes write letters. She lives in Philadelphia, in an apartment with another girl. I might visit her soon. We might even hook up again; who knows? I try not to think about it.
I have Darrin and Randy, too, when it comes down to it. I called Randy when I heard (from Darrin) that he was a father. He didn't have much time to talk, but I could hear the love he had for his child in his voice. He promised to visit me when things calmed down. "I need to get fucked, quite frankly," he said. Same old Randy.
I came clean to Darrin about hanging out with Fallon. He seemed happy that we were keeping in touch and didn't have much more to say about it.
"Come stay with me over the Fourth. We can go into the city and check out the fireworks. Plus I'm horny. None of the girls I'm seeing give head like you."
"Both of those things sound good to me," I said. I meant it. I used to consider sex, friendship, and romantic love to be mutually exclusive things. I don't any more. I think that in any relationship, no matter how casual, those factors combine, separate and intermingle like ingredients in a magic potion. And I know that the more I respect myself and my needs, the less likely I am to get lost in the mix.
I was at work the other day. I was not feeling it. Then Kate came up to my desk.
"Holy shit, Nate – you have to see the guy who's working on the women's bathroom."
"How am I going to do that?" I said, but she was already grabbing my arm and ushering me down the hall.
"Just wait outside for a minute he'll come out. He's utterly your type." There was a yellow safety placard keeping the woman's bathroom door open – I'd heard someone mention that the plumbing was fucked up, so I guessed they'd contracted someone to work on it. Kate and I stood next to the elevators and tried to pretend like we were discussing something elevator-related and not just trying to gawk at the maintenance guy.
Finally a man in blue coveralls strode out...and I recognized him.
"McConnell?"
"Nate, for all of the world," he said, striding over to me and pulling me into a hug.
"You guys know each other?" Kate said.
"Uh, this is my friend Kate," I said, introducing them. McConnell bowed a little as he shook her hand.
"I'll let you guys catch up," Kate said, giving me the eye that said that this was going to be discussed in great detail at the first opportunity. McConnell watched her walk away.
"Nice legs," he said. "She's lovely."
"Yeah, she is," I said following his gaze. "So you're working on our plumbing?"
"Yep. Got in as a contractor for the University."
"That's awesome."
"You're telling me. Steady work but only when you want it. Sweet health care."
"I didn't even know you were a plumber."
"Yep," McConnell said, smiling. He shifted his thighs and his big cock package rolled to one side. "So have you talked to your old college buddies lately?"
"Yeah. In fact, I want to thank you. If it hadn't been for you I might not have got back in touch with them."
"Ya'll been having some adventures?"
"To say the least, McConnell."
"I'd love to hear about them. You know earlier in the day I was working in a bathroom on the second floor – a little private one off the hall. You know it?"
I did indeed. And when I met McConnell there a couple of hours later, I got to know it a whole lot better.
I felt relaxed after that, and a little reflective. I didn't feel like going home right away so I took a walk. I walked through lower campus, past the old 428 site, past the Sod.
I walked along Grand Avenue. I was going past Dwight Hall when I remembered somebody telling me back in the day that it had been a cruising spot. Public sex had never been my thing, but I was on a roll that day so I went inside. The bathrooms were in the basement. The quiet down there was eerie and palpable – something about the place just felt illicit. There wasn't anybody in the bathroom but when I checked the last two stalls I found a hole carved in between them.
Right across the street from Dwight Hall was a building that had once hosted an independently-owned club that hosted obscure bands and showed independent films. Now it was a brand-new Caribou Coffee.
There are still places where out-of-the-ordinary things happen. I found one in suburbia. It doesn't matter how rigidly they plan the streets, or how many fancy new walls they put up to shield us from this or that. People will always find cracks in which to fit the dark, ecstatic, human parts of themselves. There will always be places where the walls break down.
I hope I always look for them.
THE END
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