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February 13th, morning
The past two days have been wonderful.
Claude is so happy. He hasn’t been wearing his tooth since he got here. It’s a little refreshing—he smiles more when he doesn’t have it in. And his hair is unkempt, but it still looks good on him. Whenever I make him laugh, he combs his hair back with his hand and rolls his eyes.
But he’s leaving soon. I don’t want to go back to hurting. I’m sure he doesn’t, either. He casually stole one of my old Flyers shirts that I occasionally wear to bed—it has a few holes from being worn so much. He’s walking around the kitchen, obviously bored out of his mind. He keeps sighing loudly, trying to get my attention.
“Claude,” I call out. He comes into the living room and squints at me. “Want to go see a movie?”
“Ohh, old school dating I see.” He laughs and leans on the back of my couch. “Oui, mon cher.”
“What do you want to go see?”
Claude throws his head back and groans. “You’re bad at dating.”
My face goes red. I stumble over my words. Dating?
“There’s that shitty rom-com out right now.” Claude begins. “Or! Or!” I look over, he’s on his phone. “We could see the Lego Movie.”
“You’re bad at picking movies.”
“Dude, Lego Movie.” Claude laughs. “Did you not play with Legos when you were younger?”
“No, Claude.”
He groans again. “We’re seeing the Lego Movie and then I’m buying you a set of Legos so you can fix your shitty childhood.”
~~
This pains me. The Lego Movie was actually good. I can’t stop whistling “Everything is Awesome”. Claude is taking me to the nearest toy store. For some reason, I let him drive. He’s erratic, but it’s a little funny.
We get to the store and Claude picks out this dumb toy set for me and drags me to the checkout. There are children here and then…there’s me and Claude. We’re just tall children, honestly.
The cashier tries to figure out what’s going on. She’s silent before she tells Claude the total. Claude pays in cash.
“It’s for him.” Claude whispers to the cashier, shoving a thumb my way. “He never played with Legos when he was younger.”
“Wait, really?” The cashier says, obviously surprised. “How did you not play with Legos, like, ever?”
My face is hot and embarrassed.
“He had a shitty childhood.” Claude states as the cashier gives Claude his change and she hands me the bag.
“Or something. Have a great day, you two.” She smiles.
We exit the store and I shove Claude towards my car.
“You’re a shit head.” I sneer. He steps towards me.
“You love me.” He whispers. My face gets hot.
“Get in the fucking car.” I laugh.
We drive home and Claude sits me down on the floor and teaches me how to make a car. Soon, we made a tiny Lego village, and a car for our tiny Lego man. Claude tries to “pimp out the car, it’ll be so cool” (his words, not mine) and effectively makes the car look like a fucked up Zamboni.
In the middle of making our Lego house bigger, I come to a realization.
“Valentine’s Day is tomorrow.”
“Huh?”
“Shit,” I say softly. “I wanted to send Sylvie and the boys some flowers.”
Claude just looks at me.
“Sorry, shit…” I hop up and run upstairs and grab my laptop from my bedroom. I log onto the local florists’ website and call the store. I end up ordering some yellow roses as a sign of friendship to her, but also to my boys.
I hang up the phone and Claude’s standing in my doorway.
“What, not going to order me flowers for Valentine’s day?” He says, half-sarcastically.
“Do you really want to have a super platonic Valentine’s day?” I laugh, hoping to pass it off as a joke. Claude just frowns at looks at the ground.
“We could get dinner.” He suggests.
“Maybe.” I reply.
“Well we should make reservations if we are.”
I just look at him. In public? I rub my temple. I can’t do it in public. We can’t.
“Or we can eat in.” He says softly. He got my vibe.
“Pizza?” I laugh again.
“Ugh, go search a cooking website.”
And he disappears from my doorway.
~~
Evening
Danny makes some chicken and rice for dinner.
It’s good, he’s a great cook. He knows his spices very well.
I’m sitting on the couch, watching the Olympics coverage. The volume is very low.
Danny left to go upstairs. He’s on the phone with one of his sons. For what, who knows.
I pick at the remaining rice on my plate for a moment and then I stand up, walk it into the kitchen, and place it in the sink.
“That’s great! I hope you have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, and for the love of god, please comb your god damn hair.”
Danny is walking downstairs.
“I love you too. Goodnight!”
He walks into the kitchen.
“Sorry about that.”
“Cam is going on a date tomorrow for Valentine’s Day.”
“Are you okay, Clo?”
I pause for a moment.
“I’m just tired, mon cher.” I walk over to Danny and hug him tightly.
“Alright, Clo.” He hugs me tighter. “You know I worry about you, okay?”
“Absolutely.” I breathe in deeply. He sighs softly and I feel him relax. His shoulders drop and his arms still hover around me. Maybe dinner at home would be okay.
~~
February 14th, night
Claude and I are making dinner. I have a classic rock Pandora station on, and Claude is humming along. It’s a little a cute—he’s moving with the beat as he is chopping up some green peppers. I’m browning some beef in a skillet and starting some rice on the stove. We’re making stuffed green peppers, but deconstructed? I’m not sure how to explain it; we found it on some cooking website and it looked good.
Claude comes up beside me and drops his green peppers in with the beef.
“Can you add the sauce to it?”
I hear him open the fridge and I hear the pop of him opening the jar of pasta sauce. He comes up beside me and slowly pours the sauce into the pan. It hits the pan and sizzles as it moves around the peppers and the beef. I feel him edging closer to me.
I place the lid on the pan once he finishes with the sauce. I step away from him.
“What are you thinking about?” He asks softly.
“A lot.” I shake my head. “Désolé.”
“Tu est bien.” He replies, his voice warm. “Talk to me.”
“I’m stressed.”
“Aren’t we all?”
I turn to Clo and he’s just looking at me with sleepy eyes, his hands outstretched to me. I place my hands in his, and he pulls on my right arm, then left, and continues this, making me twist to the beat of Mony Mony by Billy Idol. He’s biting his lip as he twists me around, and I edge closer to him. Soon, we’re singing horribly to each other and laughing.
But I realise too quickly that the rice might be burning, so I drop his hands and stir the rice, before adding it into the beef concoction.
“It looks good.” Clo says, placing a careful hand on my waist. “You’re great.”
I stir the food a little more and scoop up a little bit of the food and hold it out for him. He slurps the spoonful into his mouth, and effectively gets pasta sauce on his chin and all over his mouth.
“You’ve got…uh…” I make a motion around my mouth.
“Hm?”
Fuck it. I lean forward and kiss Claude gently. I taste the rich pasta sauce on his breath and I feel his heat. He pulls me close. I release myself from this kiss and wipe the remaining sauce off his chin with my thumb. He kisses me gently once more. He lets his lips hover by mine for a moment before placing his forehead on mine.
We sway back and forth gently.
I step back again and turn the pan off. I take it off the hot burner and lift the lid. Steam comes floating towards me, and I stir the food. Claude already has bowls out.
“What do you want to drink?” He asks as he places the bowls by the stove.
I ponder his question for a moment. “Wine. Merlot.”
“Do you have some?”
“Yeah, I got a bottle a few days ago.”
My hand trembles as I plop a spoonful of the food into Claude’s bowl. I hear him pop a cork out of a fresh bottle of wine. I turn around with the two bowls in hand and he’s pouring us two glasses of the wine. Le vin est rouge et belle.
He places the wine on the counter and pulls out one of the stools for me. I smile and place the bowls down.
“It smells great.”
“Merci, mon cher.” I blurt out. He smiles.
We devour the food and we sit there in silence afterwards, sipping our wine and playing with each other’s fingers.
“What’s next?” Claude asks me softly.
“I don’t know.” I reply as his fingers trace the veins on my hand. “We go back to our homes and play our hearts out.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
I know.
There’s silence.
“Je suis désolé.” Claude says softly as he wraps a finger around my pinkie.
“For what?”
“Am I coming on too strong?”
“A little bit.” I reply.
His hand shrinks away from mine.
“No, like…fuck.” I take a gulp of wine. “I don’t know. You’re just so loving, Claude.” I laugh, and he pours himself more wine. He presses the glass to his lips and he watches me as he drinks.
He places the glass down and groans softly before he flicks his tongue out over his lips.
“You just should’ve said something earlier,” He began. “If you don’t want me, if you want to be just friends, I can do that.”
I breathe out.
He pours me more wine.
I place my wine glass down and stand up. I think Claude says, “Where are you going?” All I want is to be alone and think. I need to think a lot.
~~
I don’t know why he left.
~~
I’m lying in my bed, staring at the ceiling, when Claude walks in.
“Danny, are you okay?”
“I’m just lost.”
“I’m here for you. Just know that.”
“I’m not sure if you’re what I need.” I blurt out. Stupid.
I watch him lean against the door frame.
“Are you going to sleep?”
“I don’t know.”
My heart is thumping in my ears and I just want Claude to leave—I need this time to think. I’m not sure why I invited him here for the week, I’m confused, I’m stressed…he’s confused, he’s stressed. And I don’t know what to do about him.
“Okay.” That’s all he says—he leaves it at that. But he stays in the doorway, casting a shadow across the other side of my bed.
There’s a pregnant pause in the air. His breathing was trembling and in a way, it was mellifluous. Hearing iIt took me back to a simpler time. But this, right now, would never be simple. There’s nothing simple about dying love.
“Goodnight.” He says into the room.
“Goodnight.” I reply. My head starts pounding.
I swear I hear him say something else, but he gently closes the door, shutting out the light from my room and leaving me in the dark. I ball my blanket up in my fists, the tension surging up through my arms and into my chest.
What have I done?
~~
I wake up.
It’s fucking four am, but my flight for Philly leaves in an hour. I quietly pack up my things and head down stairs. Our wine is still on the counter.
I ordered the flight tickets right after Danny went to bed. I don’t want to be a burden to him anymore. I don’t want to fuck up anymore. I love him but what is right now isn’t him. He’s not the beautiful, bubbly Danny that would fill my life with light.
As I go to open the door, my hand freezes. I stare at the door handle and my suitcase. What did I forget?
I finally leave my things by the door and walk up stairs. I walk up to his fucking door and place my palm on it. I gently open the door, and it squeaks softly.
The pale light from the hallway drifts into his room and casts a line of light over him. He’s fast asleep.
Hopefully he’ll find someone in Montreal who will treat him better than I will. At least that’s my hope. That’s what he needs. He needs someone like him to love him.
I close his door and head downstairs.
“Clo?”
I head out the front door, leaving Danny behind.
~~
I don’t know why he left.