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Nate and Hardison sat silently across from each other in the kitchen of the room above the Brewpub, looking down at their coffee cups. It was a beautiful Sunday morning, but not even the great weather and the light streaming in from the windows could distract the men from their worry.
“You don’t think…” Nate began.
“No, no, no.” Hardison shook his head. “They’re not.”
They returned to their contemplation.
“I don’t know why you guys are so worried,” Parker said through a mouthful of cheerios. “They’re just having brunch. They’ve been doing this weekly for like, a month.”
“Parker, you don’t understand.” Nate shook his head and pushed himself off from the wooden seat. He went over to the window and peered out of it, his hands at the small of his back. “When your partner and your friend’s partner get together, it may seem like a simple brunch. It may, for all intents and purposes, look exactly like a regular brunch. Mimosas. French toast. But there is always, always something insidious going on.”
Parker, still holding onto her cereal, walked up so she was standing next to Nate. From their view, they could see Eliot and Sophie relaxing under the umbrella of the outdoor seating of the cafe across the street from the Brewpub. As Nate had mentioned, they had glasses of mimosas and a plate of french toast between them. Sophie said something and Eliot laughed. “Nate. What the fuck are you talking about?”
“He thinks they’re talking about our penises,” Hardison responded for him.
“Oh, ok.” Parker nodded in understanding.
“Not just our penises.” Nate slammed his hand on the wall. “How we are in bed, our deepest secrets, our ins and outs. They know us so well, any word could break us.”
Parker scrunched her face up. “He’s my boyfriend too, should I be worried?”
“No, Parker, it’s different for you.” Hardison moved over to the window, standing behind Nate also putting his arm up against the wall and gazing out of the window.
“Aren’t you being, um.” Parker tilted her head. “What’s that word Sophie uses to describe Nate all the time? Um… Oh yeah! Melodramatic?”
Nate turned to her. “Sophie calls me melodramatic?”
“Oh yeah all the—” Hardison shook his head violently and made a cutting motion over his neck. “No. No, never. Sophie has never called you melodramatic ever.”
“This is exactly what I’m talking about.” Nate sighed and turned back to the window. “If she’d say that in front of you three, imagine what she’s telling Eliot, one on one.”
The room was silent except for the sound of crunching cereal as the men ran through the worst possible scenarios in their heads.
“They’re talking about our penises aren’t they?” Nate pressed his forehead against the glass and sighed.
“Yeah, definitely.” Hardison patted Nate’s back.
Across the street, Sophie ordered another mimosa. “You know, you mentioning that Citizen Kane showing last night reminded me, have you had a chance to try that rosewater macaron recipe you found last week?”
Eliot sat up. “Aw, man, I totally forgot. Thanks for the reminder. You know if I made them, I’d’ve shared them with you, Soph.”
“Aww, what a sweetheart. I’ll hold you to it then.”
“But, anyway, I basically had to tie Hardison and Parker down just to get them to sit with me and watch the movie at first, but they got into it. You know what Parker said?” Eliot gave a wide, lopsided smile that he tried to hide with a sip of his drink. “She said, ‘I wish that he was still alive today so that we could con him, because that house looks like it would be fun to break into.’”
Sophie laughed. “Did you tell her it wasn’t a documentary?”
“I did. But then she and Hardison started planning out how they’d steal all his money anyway, so I’m not totally sure they got the point of the movie.” He shook his head with a smile. “You and Nate have any good date nights?”
She looked off into the distance with a smile. “We went to this drive-in where they were showing noir murder mystery movies. Nate kept guessing who the murderers were, and he was almost always right. He would also come up with plans for the villains of ways they could’ve gotten away with it.”
“Well, would they have worked.”
“Of course they would have worked. It’s Nate.”
Sophie and Eliot kept chatting, Nate and Hardison kept stressing, and Parker kept eating her cereal for almost another hour, before the two brunch-goers made their way back to the apartment. They whispered and giggled all the way in.
“So, ahh, how was brunch?” Nate asked calmly, looking at a magazine instead of them.
“Oh, it was fine. We had a… lot of things to talk about.” Sophie looked over at Eliot and chuckled.
“Huh. Like what? For example.” Hardison pretended to be nonchalant.
“Hardison, I told you our brunches are private . It’s between me, Soph, and God.”
“Come on, please?” Hardison gave him a pleading face.
“Nah, man!” Eliot winked at Sophie and kissed him on the top of his head.
“They think you were talking about their penises,” Parker chimed in.
“I can neither confirm, nor deny, penis talk.” Sophie grinned at Nate’s horrified face. “Same time next week, Eliot?”
“Of course!”