Second Chance

Second Chance Chapter 14 - Emotional Rollercoasters

We rode home silently in the Uber, with Julio and I snuggled up together in the back. When we got home to my condo, we did not have a talk. Julio tried to speak up and apologize again, but I told him, "Let's just go to bed. We're tired. We can talk tomorrow."

Instead of talking, we took off our costumes, brushed our teeth, and climbed into bed in our boxer briefs. I scooted next to Julio and spooned him, holding him tightly from behind. He wiggled his ass against my crotch enough to get me hard, and I thought about some make up sex, but we were soon asleep.

I woke at my usual early hour and headed out for a jog. I came back and made coffee and then showered in the guest shower again. I sipped on my coffee as I read the Sunday paper, sitting at the breakfast counter. There was a long article about a rally that Trump was holding later that day at Madison Square Garden and the echoes of a pro-Nazi rally held there in 1939. I had become increasingly worried about Vice President Harris's chances, but I hoped that something like this rally might be too much for most Americans. As an immigration attorney, Trump's first term had been particularly challenging for me and had such a negative impact on so many of the families with which I worked. I only read about halfway through the article before I decided that it was making me too stressed and instead switched to the arts and entertainment section.

There was an interesting article about an exhibit at the Hull House Museum, the museum dedicated to the work of Jane Addams. She was a social activist who worked with immigrants to Chicago in the early twentieth century. Addams' approach to immigrants is rather anachronistic today, as she focused on social uplift under that assumption that the immigrants from Eastern and Southern Europe, mostly Catholics and Jews, were intellectually and morally inferior to Northern European Protestants, but she was also radical in other ways, particularly on issues of economic equality. Hull House was a precursor to centers like the Centro Valdez, that Pablo had run. With my professional interest in immigration, I decided that I needed go see this exhibit that, according to the paper, celebrated the lives of Chicago's immigrant communities.

As I skimmed through articles on upcoming movies and theater, Julio appeared in just his boxer briefs. He always looked so cute when he got up, rubbing his sleepy eyes. As he stretched, raising his arms high above his head, I got to appreciate his taught muscles and flawless skin. I honestly almost gasped at his beauty.

"Good morning, sleepy. Would you like some breakfast?" I asked as I got up from the counter.

"Coffee first," he said. "But I can get it myself." I took out a mug, a spoon, and the small ceramic container of sugar that I had bought earlier in the week. I had seen it at a craft shop downtown and thought that it would be nice to have for Julio. He filled his mug and added a spoonful of sugar then sat at the counter.

"Eggs and bacon?" I asked.

"You don't have to go to any effort," he said. "Just toast is fine for me."

"It's not any effort. It's just breakfast."

I put a few strips of bacon on a paper towel and stuck them in the microwave, then I put a pan on the stove to heat. I scrambled a couple of eggs and added them to the pan, then popped a couple of pieces of toast into the toaster. Soon, everything was ready, and I set out plates of eggs, bacon, and toast on the counter for us to eat and sat down.

"You wouldn't believe how early I get up during the week for work," he said. "But I have always enjoyed sleeping in on weekends."

We ate in silence for a bit, as we both read the newspaper. Then Julio spoke up.

"About last night ..." he started.

"We don't have to talk about it," I assured him.

"It's just... It was all too much." He sighed. "Halloween..."

"I know. You told me before we went that it's hard for you," I said, trying to sound comforting.

"But it's more than that," he insisted. "It was many things. Drag queens for one. To be honest, I've never been comfortable with drag queens in any context. They're a big part of Carnival in Brazil, and the church I was raised in was very loud in condemning them as immoral. People from my church would go and protest at the Carnival parade every year. I know that I should be more accepting. It's embarrassing how I react. But it was beat into my brain, and drag still just makes me uncomfortable."

He grimaced. "And then when I saw what was happening in the bedroom, it just..."

I thought for a moment before speaking carefully.

"Julio, you've never really been part of the gay community, have you?" I asked. "Have you even gone out to gay bars?"

"I went a few times in New York," he mumbled. "Not often. Mostly I've just used the apps."

"I just mean, some of this seems like...," I said, "like you're not really comfortable with gay life."

"It's true, though I'm trying to change that." He sipped his coffee. "Back in Brazil I was completely in the closet. I had figured out in high school that I was gay, but I didn't act on it at all. I was terrified. I had girlfriends to make it look like I was straight, but we didn't even kiss, because my church didn't approve of any kind of sexual contact before marriage. Then when I got to Penn, I started to fool around, but I still wasn't out at all. I was very down low, as they say. I was so worried that word would get back to my family in Brazil. No one at school knew ... well, other than the guys that I fucked I guess. But I was very secretive and very careful. Philadelphia is a big city, and I mostly went for older guys, because I could be sure they weren't Penn students."

He paused a moment before continuing.

"And then, when I got to New York, I decided that I wanted to be more active. I wanted to stop being so afraid of being gay. I got on the apps and went a little wild. But... I still wasn't really out. I just told a few friends like Susan. So, you're right. I don't really know much about the gay community. I don't honestly know much about being gay, other than how to have sex."

"Well, there's no single way to be gay, you know. We come in all    varieties, from closeted married guys to wild leather daddies who sleep all around with everyone. To be honest, sex is a pretty big part of it for a lot of gay people, but it's not everything. I mean, sex is what defines us as gay, or at least attraction is, and frankly a lot of gay guys are very sexual. A lot of people who come from very repressive backgrounds like yours kind of go wild once they break free. Some guys dress in drag because they want to express a feminine side that they were forced to repress. Other guys go wild with sex. There are sex clubs and gay resorts where lots of sex goes on. Some gay guys have a well worked out philosophy that rejects `heteronormative institutions" like marriage. But lots of others just like to fuck around."

I shrugged and drank the last of my coffee.

"There are plenty of gay couples who decide to be monogamous, Julio. But what you saw last night, well ... it's not unheard of."

"I know," he said.

"It's not unheard of, but it's also not something I've seen at parties very often. I'm a bit surprised, because I don't think that's happened at Steve and Andy's parties before. But I should be honest and say that Pablo and I were not completely monogamous. We were wild sometimes..."

"I'm not judging you," Julio said.

"But you and I, we can be whatever we want," I added.

"I only want you," Julio said emphatically.

"Which is fine. I am happy to be with you and only you." I chuckled a little. "I went for four years without any sex at all, so I think I can manage to keep it in my pants."

"Except for me," he said.

"Yes, except for you," I agreed. "But I also will say that monogamy is not a big thing for me. If something happens, if you sleep with someone else sometime..."

"I won't!" he insisted.

I put up my hand to stop him. "If you sleep with someone else, well, it won't be the end of things for me. Just love me and come back to me. That's all I ask. Whatever happens, we can talk it through."

He looked me straight in the eyes, then he smiled. "You are amazing Judah."

"And so are you," I said.

"You have so much to teach me," he added.

"I don't need to teach you," I said. "I just want you to love me, and I'll love you back."

He headed back to his apartment shortly after we finished with breakfast. We both needed to do laundry, and he wanted to shop for a few things for the apartment. I offered to come with him, but he said that he would rather I come with him next weekend, when we could look for some things to hang on his walls. We agreed that we would get together again on Wednesday night. Then I kissed him and he headed home.

After he left, I sorted my laundry and put in a load to wash. I decided I should change the sheets, so I stripped the bed. Then I swept my whole apartment. I got out my cart and walked to the local grocery store to buy provisions for the week. I decided to make a pot of chicken and noodles to eat this week, so I bought a cut-up chicken and a few other things I needed, like milk and eggs, then I went home to cook.

Tom called while I was preparing the food, so I put him on speaker phone. I told him a bit about the party the night before. I explained a little about how Julio had freaked out, but Tom seemed to understand.

"You know," I reflected out loud, "Pablo came from a similar family. It's surprising that he didn't seem to have the same kind of baggage."

"Well, you don't know what he was like when he was younger," Tom said. "He was almost 40 by the time you started dating."

"He was 35," I corrected.

"Anyway, he might have had some issues earlier, for all you know. He might have worked them out with the guy before you."

"Martin."

"Yeah, Martin might have helped him get over it."

"Hmmm," I said. "I hadn't really thought of that. Pablo taught me so much. But I suppose Martin taught him a lot too."

"Oh, it's a lovely legacy of gay men nurturing one another from generation to generation," Tom said in his most sarcastic voice.

"Speaking of which," I interjected, "how are things with Jeffrey?"

"I'm worried that I may jinx it by saying something, but things are surprisingly good. We went to a movie on Friday night and then I slept at his place, and then we just hung out all day together yesterday. We went out to a diner and then walked around Manhattan. Then we just stayed in last night and made dinner and, well, fucked of course. He's actually a nice guy, for a financial consultant. I had to leave this morning so that he could go meet up with his kids on Long Island for the day."

"I'm so glad to hear it, Tom. Good for you."

We chatted a bit more then ended the call. Once the chicken and vegetables were simmering in the pot, I called my sister, Elizabeth. We did our usual check in, then she cleared her throat and switched to a scolding tone.

"So, I hear from Susan, that you're dating someone."

"Yes," I said.

"Someone much younger."

"Yes," I said, "Susan introduced us. You met him at my party, Julio."

"Well, Judah, are you sure that's wise? At your age?"

I gave an exasperated sigh. "At my age? What is that supposed to mean? Am I supposed to be shriveled up and dead?"

"No, Judah. It's just someone who's so much younger..."

"He's in his thirties!" I said. "It's not like he's underage. He's old enough to make his own choices!"

"Well, I just hope he's not taking advantage of you..."

"Betsy," I called her by the nickname our mother had used, which I knew irritated her. "He makes more money than I do. He works for a corporation. He has a law degree and a PhD. If anyone is exploiting anyone, it's me exploiting him! I'm just have a little fun..." I stopped myself from diminishing the relationship that was developing. "No. Actually I like him. And I think he likes me. I know it's unconventional, but we're trying something, and I wish you could be supportive."

"Well..." Elizabeth started, but I hung up on her. I couldn't take any more of that tone.

I was breathing hard and could feel my heart pounding. My sister and I had always been close. She was the first person I ever came out to, and she had always been supportive. She had completely welcomed Pablo into the family, and when he got sick, she had gone out of her way to help out. But ... well, maybe that was it. She had loved Pablo, and maybe she thought that I was replacing him.

It didn't matter, though. I was pissed.

I dialed up Susan.

"What have you been telling your mother?" I said as soon as she said hello.

"Why hello to you, Uncle Judah," she responded in a syrupy sweet voice.

"Enough of that. Your mother just reprimanded me for dating Julio, so I want to know what you told her. Since I hadn't mentioned it to her at all yet."

"I just told her that my friend Julio and you had gone on some dates and that I thought it was wonderful! I mean, I'm so happy for you. I talked to Julio, and he's so excited!" She was almost effusive, so I knew that she was sincere.

"Oh, well that's not how your mother reacted," I said, feeling more calm again.

"I TOLD her to chill. She got that teacher's face when i mentioned it-- you know the one. And I said that you were both happy, so she should be happy."

"Okay," I said.

"Sorry, Uncle Judah. I didn't realize that she was going to say anything. I was over there for dinner, and we were just chatting, and I didn't realize she didn't know."

"It's okay," I said. We talked for a few more minutes, just catching up, before getting off the phone.

Talking with Susan had calmed me down, but I was still annoyed with Elizabeth and how she reacted. I guess that I had expected more of this sort of reaction from people, but not from my own sister, who had always been so supportive of me. I paced around the apartment a couple of times then sat in my comfortable chair. I picked up the book I was reading but quickly tossed it aside.

Julio had asked me last night if I was embarrassed to be with him, and I had insisted that I was not. But if I was being completely honest with myself, I did worry about what people would think because of our big age gap. I was worried that people would think that he was a gold digger and that I was his sugar daddy. I was worried that people would think that I was pathetic, parading around with someone as young and handsome as him. I was worried that people would think that he was a hooker I'd hired as arm candy. None of these thoughts had previously come to the front of my mind, but they had been lying there inchoate, and now I realized why I too had felt uncomfortable at the party last night. I guess the truth was that I WAS somewhat embarrassed to be with Julio -- not because I was embarrassed by him but because I thought that I was not good enough for him: I realized that I had been thinking of myself as too old and had trouble seeing myself as still desirable. The mixed reactions of Andy, who thought I was being a chickenhawk, preying on Julio like a young chick, and Steve and Elizabeth, who clearly judged me and disapproved of me, added to my anxiety.

But also, I was suddenly overwhelmed with the sense of Pablo's absence. We had been together for thirty years, and he had become such a part of me. I missed his being in my life. I missed the love that he had shown me in so many ways. I was excited to be starting something with Julio, but in some ways, it made me feel Pablo's absence even more. I had not realized how much loneliness I had been holding inside for the past few years. Even as I had filled my life with friends and family, there was still an absence that had not been filled.

I got on the phone one more time and called Julio.

"Julio, can I come to you?" I asked.

"Of course. What's wrong?" he asked, with concern in his voice.

"I just need to see you," I told him.

"That sounds serious," he said with some trepidation.

"No, no. I just want to be with you," I said, but I knew that I didn't sound very reassuring.

I quickly packed an overnight bag, with a change of clothes and a toothbrush. I took the chicken dish off of the stove and put the whole pot into the fridge. I could finish cooking it tomorrow. Then I called an Uber, and in just a few minutes, I was ringing the buzzer for Julio's apartment. Julio buzzed me up, and as he opened up his door I dropped my bag and fell into his arms.

"What's wrong, my sweet?" he asked.

"I..., I..." I tried to speak, but then completely unexpectedly, I burst into tears. He took me into his arms and practically carried me over to the couch. Then he held me tightly to his chest.

"Oh, Judah, my sweet, what is it? What's wrong? Has something happened."

"No..." I gasped, but that was all that I could get out as I was wracked with sobs.

For some reason, all of the anxieties that I had been suppressing about dating Julio had been brought to the surface by my conversation with my sister and the party last night -- our age difference and what people might think, my guilt over dating someone other than Pablo. But I also really missed Pablo. I had continued on with life, because that's what I had to do, but my life without Pablo was diminished, and there was grief that I had never really allowed myself to embrace. I now realized that I had basically accepted that my life was mostly over after Pablo.I no longer viewed myself as a sexual being. And then Julio had shaken me up and turned my world upside down, and so it all came rushing out.

As I cried, Julio gently rubbed my back. After about five minutes, my sobs subsided. He continued to hold me and rub my back until finally I was calm. I took a deep breath and pulled back. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and sniffled. Julio jumped up and came back with a handful of toilet paper.

"Sorry, I don't have tissues," he said. He handed me the toilet paper, and I blew my nose.

"So what is wrong, my love? Tell me," he urged me tenderly. So I took another breath and told him about my conversation with my sister and how it had surfaced my anxieties about our dating.

"You asked me last night if I was embarrassed of being with you, and I am ashamed to say that I realize I actually was. I wasn't embarrassed of you, but I was embarrassed by what people would think of me."

I told him that I had been worried about what people thought, that they would wonder why you were with me, that it was hard for me to really believe that you could want me.

"But I do want you, Judah. You make me happy," he said. "Are we taking things too quickly? Am I rushing things?"

"No, no," I assured him. "It's not you. I'm just .... it's just all been so unexpected. I was very settled in my life. I wasn't looking for love. I realize now I had just accepted as fact the idea that I would never find love again, and I think I may have come to see myself as unlovable."

"And yet," he said very softly, "here I am having fallen in love with you."

"And to be honest, I feel so confused about my feelings. I miss Pablo so much, and yet here I am loving you too! It's been three years since I've been with anyone at all, and now suddenly here you are."

"And now suddenly, here I am loving you -- even with all of your imperfections," he said with a slight smirk.

I looked at him and smiled and then kissed him on the lips.

"It's hard for me to believe I deserve it. You are so handsome and young and smart. You could have anyone you want. You could have someone young and sexy."

"And yet I want YOU. You're the one that I find sexy," he said. "And Judah, you have seen my own imperfections, and you didn't turn away."

He smiled sadly at me. "Since our talk this morning, I have been thinking about just how much I have not gotten over my family's hatred of gay people. Their hatred has become part of me. I have realized just how much shame I have been carrying inside me. I've known I was gay since I was 14, but I was too afraid to do anything with another man until I was 20. And then for a decade now, I have been having lots of sex, but almost never with the same man twice, always only some random hook up. It's just been satisfying an urge, but it's never been fulfilling. I've been too afraid and ashamed to let myself love someone."

He smiled broadly now. "But you! You know how to love another man. You are proud of who you are. You have lived without shame. Seeing how long you were together with Pablo is so inspiring to me. It gives me hope. I am just now learning how to be open about myself. To be open TO myself. I am going to stop being ashamed. Or at least I am going to try. I am going to be proud of who I am. And if you will let me, I am going to learn how to love."

I didn't say anything. Instead, I took his face in mine and kissed him, hard on the lips, my face still wet from tears. Our kisses grew more passionate, and soon we were running our hands over one another's bodies. I reached my hands up under his shirt and ran them across his smooth muscular skin, and he cupped my ass in his hands and squeezed. Soon, we were ripping our clothes off, desperate to get more of one another. Once we were naked, he pulled me by the hand into the bedroom. He lifted me and tossed me onto the bed on my back, and then he fell on top of me and pinned me down. His hard cock ground into mine. He grabbed the lube off of the box that he was using as a bedside table, squirted some on his cock, then lifted my legs in the air and began to push into me. I pushed back until he popped inside. He quickly impaled me all the way, pinning my legs above me, then leaned forward to kiss me. I grabbed his ass and pulled him into me as deep as he could go, and he began to pound me hard. His hand wrapped around my cock, and he started to jack me while he plowed into my ass, and in just a couple of minutes, we were both on the verge of coming. I couldn't take it any more and shouted as the cum flew out of my dick and coated my belly. With a roar, Julio unloaded inside me.

He pulled out and collapsed on the bed next to me, both of us breathing hard as we recovered.

We just lay there for a bit, each lost in his own thoughts, as our breathing slowed and we came down from the emotional high and the high of sex.

"Well, this has been an emotional day," I finally said.

"Yes," he confirmed. "For us both, I guess."

"Neither of us is perfect, I guess," I said.

"But as you said," he added, "we will work through things and come out on the other side."

Julio took my hand in his and then sat up.

"I should make you dinner," he said.   

"You don't have to," I told him.

He gave me a disparaging look as he got out of bed and pulled on a pair os sweatpants. "As many times as you've cooked for me? I can make you one meal. I may not be the cook that you are, but I can cook something."

"I am tingling with anticipation," I teased.

"You may be tingling," he responded in his joking tone, "but I think it's more from what I've just done to you. And you can anticipate more of that."

He walked out of the bedroom, and I followed, looking for the pants that I'd discarded near the couch. I found them and my T-shirt and put them on, then I went into the kitchen, where Julio was already at work. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and saw that I had a voice message from my sister. She had called a few minutes ago.

I played the message on speaker.

"Hi Judah. This is your sister. I'm sorry about what I said. I didn't mean to be so judgmental. I just... Well, you know how much I loved Pablo. But of course you should be dating. You should be happy. And I'm happy for you. I hope that things work out. I hope I can meet Julio ... well, I guess I did, but you weren't dating then. ... What I mean to say is, I'm sorry. I hope that things work out for you. You don't need to call me back."

"There, you see," Julio said. He had put a pot of water on to boil and was cutting things up on a cutting board.

"I suppose Susan called her," I reflected.

"And good for her if she did." Julio said. "I guess that I should have checked with you before telling Susan about us. Since she's my friend, I didn't think about her being your niece as well. Sorry,"

"It's okay. I should have told Elizabeth before. It just seemed so new. I suppose I was waiting to see where things were going," I admitted.

"And where are they going?" he asked.

"Wherever you take them," I quipped.

"Oh, no," he replied. "It's not all on me. If it's up to me, I will have all of you forever. So it's up to you to decide if that's what you want."

He put a frying pan on the burner and added some oil. The pot of water was now boiling, so he added a box of penne.

"I think I would like that, if you're serious," I said. "You're good for me, getting me out of my shell."

I paused, then added, "This has been a tough weekend, and I think we've made it through."

"And we are in better place because of it," he added. "You're already teaching me how to survive as a couple."

He tossed some cubes of chicken into the pan, and they sizzled. After he stirred them for a bit, he added some onions and green peppers and stirred them. He sprinkled in some Italian seasonings and some salt and pepper. He drained the pasta, using the lid from the pot, then added it to the pan and stirred it all together.   

"It's nothing fancy," he said, as he scooped the contents of the pan onto two plates." Just a simple pasta. But I think it's kind of healthy."

"I'm sure it's delicious," I said.

I was sitting at his kitchen table -- the one we'd bought a couple of weekends ago. He placed a plate in front of me and another in front of the chair next to me.

"Oh wait! Cheese!" he said.

He went to the fridge and took out a plastic jar of Kraft parmesan.

"I'm afraid parmesan is all I have," he said as he set it beside me.

"That goes perfectly," I said, as I sprinkled a little on my dish. He sat down and sprinkled some parmesan on his meal as well. The dish was simply but delicious.

"I should have added some tomatoes, but this is what I had on hand."

"It's fine," I said. "It's good."

He hopped up again. "Drinks! What would you like? I'm a terrible host."

I chuckled. "You're fine. Just water would be fine for me."

He got us each a glass of water and sat back down. We ate for a while in silence.

"I don't know when I've cried like that," I said.

"They say that crying is good for the soul," he responded.

"I'm not sure what got into me. It's not like me to be so emotional," I said.

"Well, I'm glad that you came to me to cry. It makes me feel like you trust me," he said.

"I guess I do," I told him.

We ate dinner, then we sat and chatted for a while over cups of hot tea that he made. We talked about the week to come, about plans to get together on Wednesday again, which was the day before Halloween.

"We don't really get trick-or-treaters in my neighborhood. There's a family in my building that has kids, and they come around, and I'll sometimes get one or two others who ring the doorbell, but that's it," I told him.

"I imagine I'll be at work until late," he said. "People don't expect you to dress up for work here, do they?" he asked with some concern.

"No, no. Not at the kind of places we work," I assured him. "Maybe teachers in schools, baristas at a coffee shop, a few other places like that. Arlene, our receptionist, usually wears something, but that's about it at the law firm. Lawyers are a boring group, and I don't imagine that scientists are much better."

We washed up the dishes and then headed to the bedroom to get ready for bed. Julio didn't have a television and no cable set up yet, so we just went to bed, rather early. We'd both be up early to get to work tomorrow.

As we lay in bed, Julio said, "Thank you for sticking with me. It helped to talk things through with you."

"And thank you for helping me," I said. "I think we make a good couple."

"Me too," he said and kissed me. Then he turned out the light and cuddled up against me.

Let me know what you think about my story. Email nifty1dan@gmail.com

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