Page 9

JULIAN

For the fifth morning in a row, I’ve been lying awake for at least the last hour, staring at the ceiling. Each morning has been for different reasons, though all have to do with Arush. Today is the first day we’re spending together. All day. With no hockey.

I’m looking forward to it.

Over the last few days, I’ve been trying to live the way I talk.

Gender isn’t the first criterion to be met when considering a life partner.

It’s not a remark I think I’ve said out loud, but it’s definitely something I’ve thought about a few times over the years.

Especially when I was traded to Arizona and watched my close friends fall in love.

Gender wasn’t an obstacle for them, from what I observed. It’s not like their gender could have been mistaken, either. We change in the same locker room, after all.

Yet, it wasn’t something that held them back. As corny as it sounds, love surpassed all doubts. They had a goal, and that’s what they shot for.

Why can’t I do that too? I’m tempted to call and ask, but then they’d have some questions and I’m certainly not ready for that.

“To be clear, I’ve never insisted I’m straight,” I murmur to the empty room. I need to say the words out loud. To hear them in my voice. Does it feel heavy or am I lighter now? “I’ve never said I’m straight,” I repeat.

The world just assumes, and since I learned as a teenager that relationships without sex are far more difficult to be in than they should be, I’d stopped trying to find one.

I’d been content with that decision right until Arizona, where I witnessed how fulfilling a strong romantic connection can be.

“I never said…” I repeat and close my eyes. There was one time as a kid when I had a huge crush on a guy friend. By kid, I mean I was twelve or thirteen. Then once more when I was at hockey camp during my fifteenth summer. That crush was huge .

“I’m not ,” I tell the universe. There’s plenty of proof of that.

This is seriously just all in my head because I had a vision of a future that I thought I was signing up for and that turned out differently than I expected. My mind is in a rut. I’m not upset that Arush is a guy. I’m just…

With a sigh, I sit up. I’m not sure what’s going on. There’s a hesitation in my chest that I can’t explain and I don’t understand. I’m at least mildly convinced that it’s not, in fact, his gender that bothers me. I have had crushes on guys before.

Oh. Maybe that’s the difference. I’ve had crushes and never acted on them. This man in my condo is supposed to be my husband. That’s what we signed up for.

A weight falls from my shoulders. That makes sense. I’m nervous because I’ve never done this before with a guy. More and more, I think talking to Etna and Keno would be helpful. My understanding is they’ve shared all their gay firsts. They’d have advice.

Not that I want sexual firsts advice, though a conversation will probably move in that direction.

Then again… is it realistic that we’ll never be sexual at all?

Is that what I want? Is that what Arush wants?

I’m definitely not repulsed by sex. I love the idea of it.

I can literally go to bed one night all amped up and ready for it the next day and when it comes time, everything inside me just shuts down and I get a big ‘ ew, no ’ feeling.

Okay, maybe I’ll take the advice there too and file it away for a ‘ maybe one day ’ date.

I run through the bathroom and get dressed before stepping into the hall. Arush’s room is right beside mine. I pause at his closed door for a minute and wonder if he’d been a girl, like I assumed he’d be, would I have brought him into my room the night he got here?

Frowning, I head into the kitchen to begin breakfast. Last night, I watched a dozen videos on how to make poha, which is flattened rice with spices.

Flattened rice is a kind of rice, which took me a while to figure out.

The first morning I had breakfast delivered for Arush, I commented on it and he explained.

I’ve since tracked some down in a grocery store and had it delivered.

The second dish I’m going to try to make today is Rava Uttapam, which is an Indian version of a savory pancake. It’s served with coconut chutney.

The breakfast I ordered the other morning was very feast-sized, especially when it was only made for two. Which was fine since it meant we had leftovers and I could try different dishes, meaning I could see which ones Arush really enjoyed.

My mama taught me to cook growing up, so I’m comfortable in the kitchen.

My wheelhouse is Southern comfort food, but I’m not averse to experimenting in the kitchen.

I’m not the best at following recipes though, since Mama and Gran didn’t follow exact recipes and seasoned based on taste instead of a measured amount, but until I feel comfortable making some of these dishes, these recipes are going to be the kitchen Bible.

Which gives me an idea. Maybe if I buy a cookbook and send it to Arush’s family, they can mark up the recipes so they match what he grew up with.

I think it would be something nice for him to have, too.

I have my great-grandmother’s cookbook that she’s written all over.

There are sticky notes and margin notes and loose papers sticking out of its breaking-down spine.

The entire thing is held together with several rubber bands.

One of the things I love about breakfast foods is that they don’t take long to cook. I have both Indian items finished, as well as Mama’s shrimp and grits, in less than half an hour. With a couple fruit smoothies to boot, I’m ready to wake up Arush.

Grinning at my masterpiece breakfast, I head for the hall, only to find Arush standing just outside the kitchen door watching me.

“You don’t have to stay outside the kitchen,” I tell him.

“You cooked Indian food,” he says, almost accusatory.

I glance at the table. “Well, I attempted. Don’t get offended if I messed it up. It’s my first try.”

I’m not sure exactly how he’s looking at me. At first I think maybe he’s upset. Is this one of those things where I crossed a line and dipped into his culture when I shouldn’t have? Fuck. I didn’t think about that.

But then he blinks a few times and I realize his eyes are shiny. Oh. Maybe he’s… touched? I can work with that.

I pull out a chair and gesture for him to sit. With his lower lip between his teeth, he does, and I join him at the kitchen counter.

“We eat with our eyes first, right?” Arush nods. “Two questions. What dishes do they look like and how do they look?”

Arush grins and points to the rice bowl. “Poha, though it’s a little light in color. You might have been a too gentle on the spices. And these are Rava Uttapam and they look perfect. I’m not sure what this is. Porridge?”

I laugh. “I added shrimp and grits, one of my favorites. I won’t be offended if you don’t want to eat it. If you prefer sweeter dishes, I can prepare a sweeter version of grits for you to try—my Gran’s recipe.”

“I’ll try it.” He looks at me, and his eyes are still shiny. “Thank you. This is really nice of you.”

Smiling, I tell him, “You’ll have to tell me names of dishes you like and I can find some recipes.

I’m not sure if India is like America, but everyone seems to have family recipes that differ slightly for the same dish.

In my family, it’s a constant debate whether grits should be sweet or savory and whether our greens are best paired with ham hock or turkey legs.

We can mess with recipes until we get them right, though. ”

“Yes, it’s the same,” Arush says. “Families have their own recipes and though I think most look the same on paper, they taste different.”

This might be the first time I’ve really noticed his accent. It’s always there. Always prominent. This morning I realize I really love the cadence.

I watch as he tries all three dishes. He meets my eyes with amusement. “You really like cheese.”

“Americans really like cheese. It shows in our obesity rate.”

He laughs.

“I’m going to introduce you to all kinds of cheese. You’ll see why it’s so wonderful. We’ll just do so in moderation. I can’t afford to get slow on the ice.”

“What happens if you get slow on the ice?”

“I’ll be replaced with someone quicker.” His look of horror makes me laugh. “In business, everyone is replaceable.”

“That’s awful.”

“I get it. No matter the industry, if you can’t pull your weight, then someone else needs to. The business needs to be run, so that means they need employees who are good at their job. You can’t just show up and expect a paycheck.”

Arush thinks about this as he eats. “Loyalty doesn’t count for anything,” he comments.

“I’m finding it counts less and less,” I admit.

“It’s about two things, in my experience.

One, you need to always be at the top of your game or there’s going to be someone better to replace you.

And two, appearances also matter. If you’re seen as a family man with strong Christian values, in some companies, that’s preferable over someone’s qualifications. ”

He gives me another look and I nod, shrugging.

“That’s crap.”

“I agree with that on the last one. Definitely crap. But I understand the other. There was a wave of people coming into the workforce for a while who didn’t want to work.

They wanted to show up and get paid, even if they simply sat around all day.

The company is literally wasting money on them and whatever that person’s job is, isn’t getting done. ”

“I understand that.”

“In a way, my position is the same. If I’m showing up but failing at my job—which is to make goals—then management will see it the same way. I’m here, they’re paying me for a job, and it’s not getting done.”

Arush isn’t impressed with this line of thought. But I can see he also understands it. “I suppose it’s not very different around the world, is it?”

“I imagine it’s the same in many places. The difference might simply be how it’s handled.”

He hums in acknowledgement.

“Your profile said you were studying?” I ask.

Arush nods. “Slowly. Very, very slowly.” He gives me a bemused smile. “I’m studying to be an engineer. I’m halfway through my bachelor’s degree now, though I took the semester off.”

“You’ve been attending classes online or in person?”

“Both.”

“When do you think you’ll want to start again? No pressure. I’m just curious.”

Arush shrugs. “I don’t know. I took the semester off because I’m not sure exactly what direction I want to go in with this degree. There are a lot of different areas that you can study in and I’m caught between environmental and aerospace.”

“That’s incredible.”

His smile is shy when he bows his head. “Thanks.”

We eat in companionable silence for a while and Arush helps me clean up the kitchen when we’re finished. After that, I lean against the counter and look at him.

“What would you like to do today?”

He looks at me like I just slapped him, which makes me grin. “I don’t know. Isn’t Chicago huge?”

“It’s pretty big. And it’s cold out so we can choose something inside. Or if you’d prefer to stay home, we can find something to do here. I have video games and I think a few board games. We can watch movies. There’s a pool and a gym downstairs that we can check out.”

The smallest hint of a smile lingers on his lips as he studies me. I wonder which of the options sounds good to him.

“When the weather’s nice, there’s even more to see outside, like Lake Michigan.”

“Are all the Great Lakes close? I’d love to see them all.”

“Not super close,” I say, chuckling. “Maps make them look close, but they’re really not.

However, we can tour the borders of Michigan and hit four as long as we go up into the UP.

Then we can follow Lake Erie into Canada and check out Lake Ontario last with Niagara Falls.

We need to go in to Canada to see it from the Canadian side too. It’s worth seeing both directions.”

Once more, he’s looking at me with the tiniest smile on his lips. “I’d like that,” he says quietly.

I nod. “I haven’t seen them all either. I’ve never been to Lake Superior. We can see it for the first time together.”

His smile climbs a little more, but he bows his head. “That sounds great.”

“This spring. Once hockey’s over in April.”

Arush nods. “I can’t wait.”

“Me too. But for today, what’re you feeling?”

He looks around. I imagine if the situation were reversed, I’d be at a loss for how to answer that question. I have no idea what I’d want to see in India. What’s in India to see? I’m sure there are hundreds of things to do, but I might have heard of three things.

“How about this—do you feel like going out or staying in?”

His eyebrows knit together when he looks at me. “Do you have a preference?”

I shake my head. “Not at all. I haven’t actually explored Chicago much.

I was drafted into Chicago two and a half years ago, moved here right before the season started.

Then I was traded at the end of the season, so I left for Arizona.

Somehow, I managed to be traded back to Chicago this season, and I moved back again right before the season began.

Needless to say, I haven’t had much time to explore. ”

“Why have you been traded so many times?”

I huff. “No idea. I didn’t buy this place because I feel like I’m just going to be traded again.”

Arush shakes his head. “I do want to explore the city, but I think I’d like to wait until it’s a little warmer outside.”

“I like that plan. How do you feel about board games? We can hang out and talk while we play.”

He smiles. “That sounds like a good way to spend the day.”