TERESA WAS soon admitted into a Psychotic Disorders Unit at Sheppard Pratt Health System for a two-week evaluation, and Claire went to see a counselor. Tristan thought it best to let a professional handle the effects on Claire, since he had no idea how deep her pain and resentment went, and I wholeheartedly agreed. After Teresa was released, she packed up her stuff and moved without saying another word. Tristan hoped she'd return one day for Claire's sake, and I hoped it would not be anytime soon. Claire needed to regain stability. To be abandoned like that would leave lasting scars on her heart.
THANKSGIVING CAME and went, but with some good memories. Claire was not in a social mood, but Tristan's mother had invited my mother over so we could all celebrate together. Tristan's family was amazing! I could not think of another time where I had felt so completely loved and accepted. They truly made me feel like a part of the family. And Claire sat next to me at dinner.
BY DECEMBER, my life had settled into a quiet routine. I worked ten to three, three days a week for the bank, and the rest of my time was spent working for Tristan. He laughed and joked about my work schedule, because he said it resembled the bankers' hours of the 1960s. I didn't care, because it was what I wanted. He really did need help with his finances, and the more I took care of them, the more time he had to spend with me in the evenings after work. I needed my easy bankers' hours so I could be home with my family.
I helped Claire do her math homework after school, and thereby gained brownie points when she got an A on three quizzes in a row. I'd never known I could be a tutor, but the following week she brought home two other friends in need of math help. I'd never been so flattered.
Mel and Cindy had gotten engaged on Christmas Day. As I had assured Mel, his soul mate had been out there. Her name was Cindy. After the breakup, Cindy had gone home and researched what it meant to be transgender and then returned to Mel's apartment two weeks later. She had argued with him about how he hadn't given her a chance, and told him she was mainly upset from feeling cast aside. She had gone on their second date to tell him she'd broken up with her girlfriend in the hope of something deeper with him. She'd felt a connection on the first date. Once she apologized for assuming he'd been a lesbian and confessed her attraction to him, Mel had forgiven her and asked for a second chance. The day before my party, they had gone out on their fifth date.
DECEMBER 30 was my last day at the bank for a whole month. Tristan had given me a trip around the country as a Christmas gift, and we left for Boston to start our trip on New Year's Day. Claire was super stoked to spend a month with Tristan's mom. Apparently, both of them enjoyed time together, and Teresa had kept their visits to a minimum. I felt bad for them, but Claire and Mrs. Carr seemed pleased to make up for lost time while Tristan and I were gallivanting around the country. I couldn't wait to leave, and yet I knew I would miss my new family and my friends at the bank.
I came back from the vault with my stack of change to find Jessica tapping her fingers on the half wall dividing our cubicles. Something was up.
"Are you okay? You seem preoccupied." I deposited my money in my drawer and locked it up while I waited for her response. It was a Wednesday, and abnormally slow, so I hoped she would talk about whatever was bothering her because it would at least give us something to do.
"I'm … worried," she said, keeping her eyes lowered.
"Why? Did Wes do something stupid?" I asked. I reached over and straightened my pile of deposit slips. They always seemed to get askew, even without being touched.
Her eyes shot up. "You knew?"
"About you and Wes? Yes," I snorted. "Wes tells Tristan everything, and Tristan tells me everything. Why would you think you could date Wes and keep any of it a secret?" Ever since my party, the two of them had acted differently. It had only taken two days after our party for Wes to ask Tristan if he could ask out my close friend.
She crossed her arms on the dividing wall and rested her chin on them. "I don't know what to do. Wes asked me to go away for the weekend. Since the shop is closed, he said he made plans to visit San Diego. I've never been to San Diego, so I said something about how fun that would be, and then he asked me to go." She lifted her eyebrows, beseeching me. "Should I go?"
Bank teller, math tutor, accountant, and now relationship advisor? I couldn't understand how I'd acquired so many new hats. I sat on my stool and drummed my fingers on the counter. "Um, I guess that depends on how you feel about him?"
"I like him. He's funny, and sweet, and I don't think he's only out to get me in bed."
The way she phrased that made me think … . "So you haven't … ?"
"No. He works a lot, and so do I. We've only been out a few times. He's never pressured me to do anything, and I appreciate that, but what if he gets frisky while we're away? What if he tries something and I can't just go home?"
I had never been in that kind of position. Every time I'd gone out with a guy, I had hoped for sex. Wished for it. Longed for it. I think it was due to my underlying doubt that I'd ever lose my virginity, and therefore I kind of wanted to get it over with on every single date. The rub was that I'd never even made it to first base on all those dates until I met Tristan. He'd taken it slow, but I was always sitting on idle, ready to thrust my sex drive into motion as soon as he gave the signal. With Jessica, it seemed she wanted to wait.
"You're not a virgin, are you?" I asked, keeping my voice very low. We'd gotten to the point in our friendship where I felt comfortable enough to ask such an invasive question and know she wouldn't slap me.
Her head jerked up. "No!" she fussed, making a little sound in the back of her throat. "I've had boyfriends, but this is the first one I really, really like. What if we have sex and it ruins everything?"
She had a valid point. I knew that happened from time to time. "I guess you have to just see. If it helps, I like Wes. I think he's a great guy. I don't think he'd treat you poorly."
She plopped her elbow on the half wall and rested her cheek on her hand. "Me neither. He's been the perfect gentleman on every date. It took him weeks to even kiss me."
Kiss? I could use a kiss right now. I'd only kissed Tristan twice this morning, and my lips knew it. I cleared my throat and tried to focus on my friend. "The way I see it, you just need to go for it. You have my number. You have Tristan's number. Call either of us if you have a problem. Even if we're in Montana, we'll come get you if you need us." I secretly hoped that would never happen, because I could imagine Tristan getting pissed if she actually called.
Jessica reached over the wall, and I clasped her hand. "You're a great friend, Grant. I think I will. I'll call Wes right now and tell him I'm in. San Diego, here I come!"
She walked away, and I turned to survey my station. Everything was in its place. I had pens and deposit slips. My monitor was wiped free of dust. My keyboard was also wiped clean, even between the keys. I opened my drawer and checked on my money. One roll of coins was facing different than the rest, so I flipped it. I sighed. All was in order. I could face the day!
Mrs. Snyder walked through the door and grinned at me. Why was she always throwing attention my way? Jessica had called her a cougar. It wasn't like I didn't know what that meant, but I hadn't seen any cougarish activities. She was more flirtatious than most, but I was 95 percent certain she knew I was gay. Why would an older woman flirt with a young gay man? It seemed preposterous.
My phone vibrated, and I took it out to read my text. I knew it was wrong, but Tristan had promised to only text during the day if it was important, especially since my hours were so short.
It was from my mom. Enjoy your trip, dear. Don't forget to text me once a week so I know you're alive.
Thanks, Mom. I will. I love you.
I love you too. Give Tristan a kiss from me. I'm off to Zumba! :)
I snickered. My mom was a funny one. I will. TTYL
I pocketed my phone just as Mrs. Snyder sauntered up to my window and placed her stack in front of me. She didn't even look to see if another teller was free. How bold. "Good morning, my dear boy. How are we today?"
I gave her a kind smile. I wasn't going to allow her to fluster me. "I'm well. How about yourself?" Instead of waiting until she answered to get on with her transactions, I picked up her stack and sorted it while she spoke.