Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
DOREN
Despite the ever-growing sense of anxiety looming in the back of Doren’s mind, they couldn’t stay away from Jake. It was a complicated situation, no question. Jake’s inquiries about surfing in the cold were just the first of many possible chances for Doren to blow their cover.
Doren’s parents’ words echoed in their head.
Be careful. Was Doren being careful? They were trying, but they couldn’t help themself.
It had been five days since that first piece of blueberry pie, and Doren had swum up to that beach every morning, excited to talk to Jake, eager to see his soft brown eyes and his even softer beard.
Doren wanted to kiss the man so badly it hurt.
The risk of exposure, though, could not be dismissed. Doren forgot it whenever they spent time with Jake, but afterwards, as they made their way back to the depths, the guilt would set in.
This crush was dangerous, and it was spiraling out of control.
If Doren were smart, they’d take a couple of weeks off, put on the brakes and listen to their parents.
Jake was already suspicious. Doren was certain of that.
They had to be vague about so many aspects of their life.
Eventually, Jake would question why Doren didn’t have any friends in town or why no one knew where they lived.
Doren could ask Bard to help, but they’d distanced themself from Doren. For the past few evenings, Doren had returned to the depths to find Bard missing. It stung. Bard wasn’t just their sibling. They were Doren’s best friend.
Doren knew why. Bard was a control freak, and it rankled that Doren was ignoring their advice.
Yet all of that worry dissipated when Doren saw Jake once again.
A few hundred feet from the beach, Doren shifted from alien to human, their tentacles melting back into their body as their slick iridescent skin transmuted into light beige. When they reached the shallows, they stood and berated themself.
They’d been so conspicuous the last few days, not even trying to conceal their entry to the surface.
The first time someone saw Doren walk out of the water, they might chalk it up to some crazy surfer or swimmer.
But Doren had gone straight to the beach every day that week, exposing themself rather than transforming under the dock.
Eventually, a townie would notice the strange person emerging from the water like the Birth of Venus each morning.
But once Doren headed toward the shore, their excitement got the better of them.
They couldn’t bear the thought of stealth, of all the time it took to change clothes and walk from the nearest point of concealment.
Doren wanted to see Jake!
They would be more careful, but not today. They were already on the beach anyway, too late to do anything about it. Doren sprinted toward the house, heart racing at the thought of seeing Jake again. How did this human have such a hold on them?
Reaching the front door, they tapped lightly on the window. It was almost noon now. Hopefully, Jake hadn’t been expecting them earlier.
There was no answer. Doren peered in, but the whole first floor was empty. Other than a half-eaten pizza sitting on the kitchen table, everything looked as it usually did.
Knocking again, a tiny whirlwind of confusion sprang up in Doren’s stomach. Did Jake have something else to do today and forget to tell them? Did Jake have to leave town unexpectedly?
For a brief moment, Doren considered they might have misread the situation, that Jake might not have the same affection for them that Doren had for him. But they brushed that idea quickly aside.
Doren was certain of Jake. The man had been guarded, maybe, but he’d made his feelings clear. Yes, Doren misunderstood human social interactions on occasion, but there was a connection forming between them that was undeniable.
Doren wasn’t human, and sometimes that was an impediment, but it also meant they were more sensitive to such things. If Jake were an alien, Doren would be certain they were bondmates. That’s how much potential Doren sensed between the two of them.
Doren could visualize how the two of them fit together, what Doren might be to Jake: a gift, a balm, a soothing light for his mornings.
Should they wait? Should they head back into the depths? What if something was wrong? They could break into the house…
A loud meow sounded on the other side of the front door, and Doren peered in, eyebrows furrowed. If Miranda Priestly was still there, at least Jake hadn’t left town. He’d never leave MP behind.
The beautiful gray-and-white kitten jumped up onto the kitchen table and made direct eye contact with Doren, meowing once more, then stretching her front paws out and arching her back.
Was she lonely? Had Jake gone on some kind of errand without the cat?
Miranda Priestly leapt down to the linoleum floor and pawed at a nearby cabinet. Even in the few days Doren had been coming here, the wooden door had accumulated a decent number of deep scratches. The white primer had started showing through the navy blue paint.
That was where Jake stored Miranda Priestly’s food. Wait, it was noon. Had he not fed the poor thing?
MP meowed a third time, and this one was loud enough she might as well have been right in Doren’s ear. Doren turned the doorknob and pushed.
It was unlocked, but that didn’t register at all. Doren rushed in, opening the cabinet and scooping out a cup of dry food. They poured it into Miranda Priestly’s dish. They didn’t have any experience with cats, but they couldn’t stand the thought of the poor thing going hungry.
Did the animals have to be fed every few hours? Every hour? What if it was every thirty minutes!?
Doren just didn’t know. They’d learned a lot in over a century of coming up to the surface, but they had some blind spots, and clearly pet-care was one.
Satisfied MP wouldn’t starve, Doren surveyed the kitchen. Now that they were inside, they noticed the pizza wasn’t the only detritus. There was a sink full of dirty dishes and a layer of dust over everything.
Maybe Jake hadn’t cleaned since arriving two weeks before? He’d said something about a cleaning service, but they must not have come yet. As Doren stood there pondering, a soft, sweet sound drifted down from the second floor.
Snoring. Jake was in bed, gently snoring.
Doren grinned and got to work. The sound made them giddy. Throwing out the pizza and recycling whatever parts of the box they could, Doren wiped down the kitchen table before heading over to the sink.
Maybe they were lucky. In the depths, there were no dishes and very little cleaning. Occasionally, they’d have to wipe the algae off a stone carving they liked. So this wasn’t a chore for them. They could count on one hand the number of times they’d done dishes in their life.
They whistled as they turned on the hot water and attacked the problem head-on. It didn’t take long—maybe half an hour—but Doren couldn’t help but sway their hips to the tune playing in their mind.
They were happy. The thought of making Jake’s life easier warmed Doren’s whole body. Doren wanted this, wanted to be on Jake’s side, wanted to help and support him.
Once the dishes were drying on the gleaming metal rack, Doren moved on to the rest of the house, digging out the cleaning spray and a rag and tackling the dust. The house wasn’t awful, but a couple of weeks of accumulation wasn’t nothing.
A creak sounded from the stairs behind Doren as they were dusting off the intimidating mahogany bookcase filled with nautical-themed novels. They turned to find Jake inching down the steps, a look of confusion on his face.
His brown hair was wild and unkempt, and he wore a pair of cotton shorts and…
No shirt. Jake wasn’t wearing a shirt and, holy shit, he looked glorious. Fine brown hair covered his chest, and his pecs and upper arms were developed deliciously. Add to that the perfect belly and his thick thighs, and Doren was a goner.
“Um, hey?” Jake squinted at Doren’s handiwork.
“Hello, Jake! You weren’t answering the door, and Miranda Priestly was begging for her food. I was concerned she might go hungry.”
“Oh! Oh…” Jake’s expression was one of confusion and disbelief. He kept staring at the kitchen table, then the sink, then the rag in Doren’s hand. “You, uh, you’re doing my housework?”
“I didn’t wish to wake you, but I was here and available to help. I hope…did I overstep my bounds?” A little jolt of fear ran through Doren. They’d wanted this to be a happy surprise.
“You’re…that’s such a nice thing to do,” Jake said. Then, to Doren’s horror, Jake’s eyes welled with tears. Soon water streamed down his face, and he gripped the bannister, his eyes squeezed tight.
Doren’s throat tightened at the sight. The one thing they didn’t want was for Jake to be sad. Not thinking about it, they ran to the man and wrapped their arms around him, encouraging Jake to rest his head on their chest.
The gesture seemed to break Jake, who was now sobbing full out. Doren pressed their nose to Jake’s hair and whispered.
“You’re okay. Whatever is wrong, we shall find a way together. I give you my promise. I will be your stalwart companion. You are not alone.”
After a few minutes, as Doren continued to whisper soothing words, Jake calmed down, although it took him a while to come back to himself. He finally opened his eyes and stepped away, a shocked expression appearing on his face.
“I’m so sorry. I forgot I didn’t have a shirt on.” Jake’s face flushed a dark pink, and he wrapped his arms around himself as if to hide from Doren.
Doren grabbed both of Jake’s hands and squeezed them. “Jake. You are beautiful. Every moment I have my body against yours is a gift. I promise.”
Jake’s expression screamed doubt, but Doren held their gaze steady. They were determined for Jake to believe them. Jake nodded slowly, the self-consciousness receding somewhat but not leaving his eyes completely.
“Will you tell me what’s wrong?” Doren asked.
Jake let out a big sigh and, keeping one hand in Doren’s, continued down the stairs to sit the two of them on the large couch in the living room. He spoke softly, his eyes glued to the floor.
“I, uh, wanted more time before I explained everything. More time before I ruined things.”
Doren reached out and touched Jake’s cheek. Jake pressed into his hand but still didn’t raise his gaze. Their heart hurt at the despair pouring off the man.
“Jake, nothing between us has been ruined.”
“Maybe…” Jake cleared his throat and blinked a few times. He breathed in and clenched his jaw, seeming to find the courage he was searching for.
“I’m ill. Major depressive disorder. I, uh, haven’t been doing very well for a long time. I’d hoped the geographical change would snap me out of it, for a little while, at least, but I was being stupid. I should have known. Change always makes things worse for me, not better.”
Doren gripped Jake’s hand, their other hand rubbing his broad back. They said nothing, even as Jake sat there in silence, but just stayed by his side. They weren’t going anywhere, and they’d prove it.
“Sleeping too much is one of my symptoms,” Jake continued, “and my sleep has been messed up for a while now. I’ve been sleeping ten, twelve hours a night for a while. Last night I was out for probably sixteen. It’s easier to stay asleep than to get up. What is there to get up for?”
Jake raised his chin, and there was a deep sadness swirling in eyes, but beyond that, a shame Doren wished they could steal and bury, banish forever.
“I wish only to help, Jake. We’ve only known one other for a couple of weeks, but I care for you. I won’t abandon you to yourself.”
A single tear trailed down Jake’s cheek, but he dashed it away and stood up, stepping away from the couch.
“You don’t understand. This isn’t having a bad day, or even a terrible week.
I’ve been in this latest cycle for months, and it could go months longer.
When I’m in it, you can’t count on me. I’ve never thought about taking my own life—I’m lucky in that regard—but that doesn’t mean it’s easy.
I’m a terrible partner, a terrible friend. Just ask my last boyfriend.”
“I don’t believe that.” Doren added steel to his tone.
They might not be able to heal Jake’s illness, but they could reflect back reality as they saw it.
“The last two weeks have proven to me you feel things deeply. You care so much. Now, is there anything that helps? Can I, I don’t know, bring you a peppermint latte?
A board game? Set up some music? What makes you feel better? ”
Jake shook his head. “Sometimes, nothing. I take my medication. I talk to my therapist once a week. He was willing to go virtual when I came up to Maine. I’m supposed to exercise, but I have trouble with that.”
Doren leaned forward, Jake’s musky, sweaty scent hitting them like the aroma of a perfect meal as they did. “I could teach you to surf. If you’re interested.”
Jake’s expression turned skeptical. “I’m not in very good shape. Don’t you have to do a pushup to stand on the board?”
“We can get you there.” Jake said nothing, but his face was a mask of doubt. “Only if you want to, though. What else?”
Doren’s species didn’t suffer from chemical depression in the same way as humans, but they had experience with deep melancholy and loneliness. It was a natural result of living so long. Doren understood what it was to feel trapped and hopeless. To despair of the future.
“This time of year is ordinarily good for me. I love the holidays. I always have. Gram always made Christmas special. But…the trunk of my car is full of decorations I haven’t touched. We’re two weeks into December, and usually my apartment is fully done by the Sunday after Thanksgiving.”
Standing, Doren hugged Jake once more. At first, Jake’s response was tentative, but after a moment the embrace grew stronger, as if Jake was holding on for dear life.
Doren bent their head down to bring their lips to his ear. “We can put up the decorations together if you’d like. Not all at once. Little by little, we can turn this place into a winter wonderland.”
Jake didn’t speak for almost two full minutes. Finally, he whispered, almost too soft to hear, but to Doren it was like a quiet, fervent prayer.
“Maybe.”