Chapter 16 #2
Jude did the only thing he could think of to get the train back on its tracks.
He let go of Nally’s hand and picked up the menu.
“Look at all these amazing offerings,” he said as if it were six months ago and the earlier versions of themselves had gone out to supper to check out Walt Severance’s latest project.
“It all looks delicious,” Nally said, playing right along. “I hope the student chefs can actually pull all this off.”
“I’m sure they’ve got the best chefs in the business overseeing them and teaching them.” He grinned and added, “Just like I will teach you the proper way to document a meal at a fancy restaurant on social media.”
Nally smiled. “Lead on, magister. I love to learn.”
It was just the release of pressure that the two of them needed to actually enjoy their meal.
They ordered the Chef’s Special, which was billed as whichever dish the student chefs were working on for whichever exam was coming next for them.
Part of the offering was that the chefs themselves came out to serve their meal.
The pair of chefs that were even younger than Jude and Nally, along with their middle-aged teacher, Jude guessed, were excited to discover who they were serving.
“You’re Jude the Obscure,” one of them gasped. “And Ronald Hawthorne.”
“I heard a rumor you were dating,” the other chef said. When the teacher cleared his throat, the young man blanched and put on his game face as he rushed into, “This is roast cod, spinach, and roasted potato with a pea purée and parsley oil.”
“And for you I have Lake District lamb with a sticky meatball, heritage carrots and roasted feta,” the young woman said, setting her plate in front of Jude with pride. “I hope you enjoy. And, um….”
Jude knew what she wanted. He glanced to Nally, then smiled up at her and said, “Do you want to take a selfie with us and your brilliant food?”
“Yes, please!” the young woman squealed.
Supper was delayed slightly as Jude and Nally stood up and posed with the chefs. The teacher grudgingly took the picture while the rest of the restaurant looked on, whispering and probably wondering who they were and what the big deal was all about.
It was exactly the tension-breaker that Jude and Nally needed.
“Thank you for that,” Nally said once they’d tagged and posted the pictures all over their socials and were seated again and had tucked into their amazing food.
“For what?” Jude asked with a shrug of pretend innocence.
“Things were getting a little…you know,” Nally said, looking guilty.
Jude made a gesture to brush off his concern as he chewed, then swallowed and said, “All of this is new to us. Whatever keeps making us nervous, it’s just teething issues.”
Nally chuckled and his shoulders loosened. “Teething problems. I like that.” He took a bite, and his expression turned serious again. Once he’d swallowed, he said, “We’ve known each other for more than half our lives. We shouldn’t be having teething problems.”
Jude’s next bite hit his stomach like a rock. “It’s alright,” he insisted. “We’re also two freakishly neurotic, overly sensitive queer artists who overdramatize everything. This, too, shall pass.”
Nally laughed tightly at that, paused, shook his head, then laughed far more openly. “We’re such idiots.”
“We absolutely are,” Jude agreed.
Everything was fine. Again.
For about fifteen minutes.
“Oh, Goddess, I’ve just had a thought,” Nally said once they were served their desserts. They’d taken quick pics of them, posted them on their socials, and were about to enjoy the sugar explosion.
“What?” Jude asked, part of him bristling with impatience that what was supposed to be their first real date looked like it was about to be interrupted again.
Nally glanced from his chocolate ganache to Jude. “We’ve just posted a bunch of pics of exactly where we are and what we’re doing all over the internet.”
“So?” Jude asked with a shrug. “I do that all the time.”
Nally looked sick. “You don’t have a stalker following you all the time.”
“Oh, God,” Jude said, leaning back from his black currant crumble.
He hadn’t even thought about Quentin. It was bad enough to be wrapped tight about one thing, his and Nally’s relationship, but trying to navigate that with a stalker on the loose was too much.
“Okay, here’s what we’ll do,” he said, sitting forward again.
“It would be an insult to the chefs and the gods of dessert if we left these visions uneaten. Let’s eat them quickly, then we’ll leave and go somewhere on the other side of London.
The Tate Modern is apparently trying out an ‘open ’til midnight’ thing tonight. ”
“That should work,” Nally said with a nod.
They started in on their desserts, but between the full meal Jude had just eaten, the lingering feeling that everything was wrong between him and Nally, and the idea that Quentin might jump out of the shadows to cause trouble at any second, he could only manage a few bites.
They ended up having the desserts wrapped to take away, then heading out into the cool night. Since it wasn’t convenient to carry around bags of desserts, they gave them to a startled group of tourists, then darted for the nearest Tube station.
A few, quick transfers later, and they found themselves climbing the steps of the Tate Modern.
“This is perfect,” Nally said, gazing up at the wild, expressive art that greeted them as they walked through the lobby. “I’ve always thought that going to a museum on a first date was the way to go.”
“Absolutely,” Jude said. “It’s so sophisticated and highbrow.” He paused, then went on with, “We can make fun of the art together.”
Nally snorted a laugh and leaned into Jude for a moment, but exactly the same as had already happened too many times that night, the handful of minutes that they felt normal together fell all too quickly into a funk of awkwardness.
They walked through a few of the galleries, staring at abstract art, a lot of it blindingly famous, feeling nothing.
At least, Jude didn’t feel anything in the face of artistic majesty.
He held Nally’s hand, but as the two of them moved stiffly on together, saying nothing, a new emotion started to roll over Jude. Grief.
He did his best to ignore it. Nothing was wrong. He and Nally were acting out of character. If they weren’t trying so hard to be romantic, they’d be having a laugh right now.
“This is supposed to be easy,” Nally whispered as they stood in front of a glorious Picasso. “We love each other.”
“It’s not us,” Jude insisted. “We’re trying to force things.”
“We shouldn’t have to force things,” Nally said, turning to Jude with desperation in his eyes.
Jude took a deep breath. He wasn’t going to lose Nally. He refused to lose the most important person in his life.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said. “Let’s just go for a walk and clear our heads.”
“Yeah, that’s a brilliant idea,” Nally agreed.
It was a brilliant idea in theory, but as they walked back over Blackfriars Bridge hand in hand, arms pressed together, Jude felt like the bridge would give way and dump them into the Thames at any second.
“The thing is,” Nally said suddenly as they paused halfway along the bridge, turning to Jude, “I’m not sure we really thought this through.”
Jude’s heart caught in his throat. “I think we’ve thought this through far too much,” he countered Nally, eyes wide.
“Everything was fine just how it was,” Nally insisted, fidgeting and breathless. “My life, my career, my distinct lack of stalkers.”
Jude laughed briefly at that. He grabbed both of Nally’s hands. “We can’t stay kids forever, though God knows we’ve tried. I would have moved out of my parents’ place on my own years ago, but I didn’t want to lose my excuse to spend all my time at Hawthorne House with you.”
Nally’s eyes went wider still. “You can’t really mean that.”
Jude sighed. “I absolutely do. And now you’re about to fly off on this amazing, high-profile career. You won’t need me to run your socials and pretend to be your agent when real agents come knocking at your door.”
“Wait, what are you saying?” Nally asked with sudden panic. “Are you saying you don’t want to be my agent anymore?”
“God, no!” Jude said. “I’m saying that there are people out there who can do the job better than me, because we’re not just kids pretending anymore. We’re grown-ups now, Nally. That means things change. Our careers change, our living situations change—”
“We can’t change,” Nally interrupted him, throwing his arms around Jude and clinging to him like he’d threatened to jump off the bridge.
A few other pedestrians side-eyed them like they were thinking of jumping.
“Nothing can ever change so much that it will stand between us,” Nally went on, misery in his voice. “Not even us.”
Jude clasped him tightly, never wanting to let go. “I’m not saying it will,” he said. “I’m just saying….” He had no idea what he was saying.
Someone nearly bumped into them, possibly on purpose, so they stepped apart and continued walking, not holding hands anymore.
“We have to figure out what we’re doing before it’s too late,” Nally said with a serious frown. “We can’t stop things from changing, but like Dad and his schedules for the arts center, we have to make a plan of how we’re going to proceed so that we don’t end up losing everything.”
“We’re not going to lose everything,” Jude insisted. “But you’re right. Maybe instead of going to a hotel tonight and bonking each other’s brains out, we should each go home and decide what we really want going forward.”
“I want you,” Nally said immediately.
“I’m not talking about us,” Jude replied just as quickly.
“I’m talking about everything else. We need to step apart for a half-second, figure out where we each want our lives to go, and then come back together and figure out how to make those things work.
Because if it turns out we want everything else in our lives to go in different directions it’s going to be harder for us to figure out how to stay together. ”
Jude could tell Nally wanted to blurt out something emotional. He was deeply proud of the way Nally took a deep breath instead and said, “Okay. But I only agree to this whole taking a step back thing if it doesn’t last forever.”
“It won’t,” Jude insisted. “But I think we can both agree that it isn’t healthy for us to be in each other’s pockets all the time either.”
“I like being in your pocket,” Nally said, leaning his head against Jude’s shoulder as they waited at the crosswalk at the end of Blackfriars Bridge for the light to turn green.
Jude laughed and slipped his arm around Nally’s waist. “I like being in your pocket, too, but if we’re going to spend the rest of our lives together, we are going to have a healthy relationship, not a freakishly codependent one.”
“Okay,” Nally sighed, straightening. “We can do this.”
“Yes, we can,” Jude said with a smile.
He just hoped he was right.