4. Chapter Four #2
“Uh, okay.” I did as he suggested and picked my favorites.
Mom and I ate Chinese food once a year. A treat on New Year’s Eve.
She liked the idea of me trying new things.
But I hadn’t kept that up after she passed.
I stuck to the stuff I knew and trusted.
Sometimes the other trainers from work would go out.
I joined when I found the courage, but tended to stick to salad or soup.
Finally, I handed the phone back to Zahir.
He grinned. “Good choices. I’ll add a couple, give them a time and—”
The conveyor belt started moving.
“Perfect timing.” He tucked the phone back into his pocket. “We’ll have the food in no time.”
My stomach rumbled. The salmon was long forgotten by this point.
Once we retrieved our bags, we headed out into the heat. I yanked my jacket off and carried it as we headed toward a parking lot.
The lights on a silver SUV flashed.
I cocked my head. “This is nice.”
Zahir grinned as he opened the back hatch.
“I’ll be honest and say the thing was Marty’s.
I had a zippy little five-speed. Well, I still do.
It’s just in the garage. This vehicle has better security and is easier with luggage.
” Even as he said the words, he hauled his suitcase in. He gestured for me to do the same.
I did.
Then we rounded the SUV, and he unlocked the door.
A wave of heat hit me as I got in. “Holy crap.”
Zahir chuckled. “I’ll have the AC working in just a moment.” He started the engine. “Marty loved this thing and I can see why. He always wanted me to upgrade my car, but I didn’t see the need.”
“And now you have two vehicles.” That felt positively luxurious to me.
“I do. I can’t bear to part with either of them so, for now, I have both. Oh, do you have a license?” He backed out of the spot and headed toward the exit.
“Yeah. Mom insisted. With transit in Toronto, though, you hardly ever need a car.”
“True that.” He merged onto a road with few cars. “I’m going to take the scenic route. Only takes an extra fifteen minutes or so. But you’ll get a sense of Cedar Valley.”
“We’re in Abbotsford?”
“Yes. Eventually we’ll cross a bridge to get us to Mission City.”
He took us through a roundabout and I held my breath. I hated those fucking things. “Uh, okay.”
And so we drove through an area with lots of shops and strip malls.
Then a couple of housing developments and suddenly we were in the country.
As we drove, he pointed out farms of all kinds, vineyards, and other places.
At one point, he had me look over my shoulder.
I got a stunning view of the valley. And— “That’s Mount Baker, right?
The dormant volcano in Washington State?
” I marveled at the thing with the massive snowcapped white top.
“That it is.” He turned, and we headed down a winding road with sharp turns.
“I can see Mount Baker from my house. Actually, if you want, that can be your room.”
“My room?” I considered. “Wouldn’t that be, like, the best view in the house?”
“It is. It’s the primary bedroom.”
I waited.
He said nothing.
I ventured. “So if it’s the primary bedroom—”
“Yes, well—” He cleared his throat. “I moved out of it after Marty died. He chose MAID—medical assistance in dying—and we decided on our bedroom. Best view of the house and where we’d spent some of our most precious time together.
Sure, making love, but also reading the paper in bed.
Laughing at each other. With each other.
Planning for the future because we were going to live to be one hundred and share a room at a nursing home. ”
We took a corner and out of the trees, we burst into a view of fields with mountains in the background.
The sight before me took my breath away.
And as we rounded the next corner, a burst of sunlight broke through the clouds that had settled after we’d landed.
The effect was stunning and almost surreal.
You have to say something. “That’s sad. I mean, I assume that’s why you moved out of the room.”
“Mostly. I guess I just needed a new perspective. The two spare bedrooms face north and look out over our lawn and garden.” He sighed as the road we were on straightened.
“I was the homebody who liked to putter around the garden. Marty was always big on going out. Somehow, though, we clicked. Complemented each other. Worked well together.”
“Ah.” I fidgeted with my jacket.
Zahir cast me a quick glance. “Are you an introvert or an extrovert? Given a choice, would you surround yourself with people to recharge, or do you hunker down at home?”
“Oh, definitely hunker down at home. Mom was like that too. Dad—” I swallowed.
“Dad was always wanting to go out places and do things. It’s kind of amazing he stayed so still when we went camping.
I guess—” Another swallow. “He knew he was leaving, and he wanted to make it, I dunno, special? Does that make sense?”
“Yes, absolutely.” Zahir quickly patted my knee. Then, as if realizing what he’d done, pulled his hand back. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
“I didn’t ask your permission.”
“To touch me?” I scrunched my nose.
“Yes.”
“Oh. Right. Well, it’s fine. I honestly don’t mind. In fact, I kind of miss Mom’s hugs. I touch people at work all the time. With their permission, of course. But that’s like impersonal, you know?” I winced. Could you sound any more pathetic?
“I still should have asked.”
“Formally, then, I give you the okay.” Because that was the correct thing to do…right? “It’s totally fine. I mean, if it’s not awkward and shit.”
He chuckled. “Yes to that.” He pulled into a left-hand turn lane and cast me a glance. “May I ask you something personal?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Okay.”
And yet he didn’t ask the question.
“Whatever it is, I don’t care, okay? Like, if I don’t want to answer, then I just won’t.
If you freak me out, I’ll get out of the car and walk away.
” I was fit, buff, and had self-defense training.
Honestly, Zahir was more lean than bulk.
Unless he was some secret kung-fu guy, I was going to be fine.
Beyond that, though, I trusted him. He hadn’t been required to help me get on the plane.
To upgrade my seat so we could sit together.
He certainly hadn’t needed to hold my hand or talk me through the flight.
His generosity knew no bounds—but I wasn’t going to be the one to test those limits.
Because everyone had limits.
Even me .
We turned left, and he accelerated. “So we’re about to go over the Mission-Abby bridge. You’ll get a sense for Mission as we crest the bridge.”
“Yeah, okay. Thanks.” I held my tongue when I really wanted to point out that he hadn’t asked a question.
He took a deep breath and let it out. “So…you’re a puppy.”
Ah. Wondered when we’d circle around to this. Better in the car than on an airplane, that’s for sure. “Yes, I’m a…puppy.”
“Right. And you’re okay with the fact I’m gay.”
I snickered. “Well, as you’ve guessed, based on my pin, I’m also gay.”
“You might’ve been an ally. Or you might, you know…” He did some kind of rolling gesture with his hand then put it back on the steering wheel with the other.
“No, I don’t know.”
“I wondered. You might prefer puppy play with men but otherwise be straight. Or even bisexual. I didn’t want to make the assumption you’re gay.”
I chuckled. “I’m gay. Have known since I was quite young. I figured I was different. And part of me wondered if my dad took off because he sensed that about me.”
Even as I said the words, we crested the hill, and a town came into view.
I scanned and tried to take in the vast number of buildings.
Most appeared to be houses. Knowing Mount Baker was behind me, clearly these houses had what I understood to be million-dollar views .
Pretty spectacular. “Which house is yours?”
“I doubt very much that your dad took off because he might’ve sensed you were gay.”
Drat. I hoped he’d forget about my having said that. Moment of vulnerability — I know better.
“Yeah. Right. Of course. ”
“My house is sort of in the middle. It’s a cozy three-bedroom plus den older home while the houses you see to the right are much bigger.”
“Lots of windows.”
He chuckled. “Yes. And most of them have air conditioning. I’m warning you now that I don’t. With this heat wave, it’ll be warm. You’ve got a ceiling fan, though. A lot of nights I just sleep naked. Oh crap.”
My eyes shot to the road, assuming some kind of obstruction ahead. When I saw nothing, I considered. “What crap?”
This time, Zahir chuckled. “I suppose I shouldn’t be telling you I sleep naked. I promise to wear shorts.”
“Why?” I scratched my nose as he took an off-ramp.
“Well, politeness. Your bedroom has an ensuite bathroom. The two spare bedrooms share a bathroom and one has to leave the bedroom to get to the bathroom.”
“So you’re thinking I might see you naked.”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” I smiled. “You realize I work in a gym? With showers and naked people and stuff? I’m pretty confident there isn’t anything I haven’t seen at some point in my career. Plus years of sports in school.” I shook my head. “Takes a lot to shock me. Unless it’s an issue of modesty—”
“Well, it sort of is.” Zahir took a turn, and soon we were headed over another bridge.
“What the hell?” I grabbed the door as we bumped our way along .
“Yeah, I should’ve warned you. At some point, the city is going to have to repave. I have no idea what the town is waiting for. Have no fear—this is the worst stretch.” He eased us into a stop at a red light. He had his left turn signal on.
“That pavement doesn’t shred tires?”
He shrugged. “I drive it carefully. I think most people do. So, we’re turning onto First Avenue. Like Mission City’s main street.”
“So why don’t they call it Main Street?”