Page 13 of The Weight Of It All

“Well, these jeans beg to differ.” I looked at myself in the mirror from a few different angles. “I haven’t worn them in a while, and last time I did, they were a little snug.”

“Well, you should be proud of yourself. These little milestones aren’t so little, Henry. The last three weeks haven’t been easy, but you’ve persevered and it’s really starting to pay off.”

“It is! Normally I would reward myself with cheesecake or something, but I might go for something different.”

“Such as?”

“New gym clothes.” It was an idea that came from nowhere, but once I’d said it out loud, I was keen to see it through. “The ones I’ve been wearing are the ones I bought years ago. Which you can probably tell.”

“Clothes don’t matter much to me.”

I gasped, feigning shock and horror. “Are you even gay?”

He laughed. “Uh, yes. Very much.”

“I was just kidding. Sort of. Clothes aren’t the most important thing.”

“Not like shoes.”

“You like shoes?”

“No, I was taking the piss.”

I gasped again. This time I wasn’t faking the shock and horror so much. “I like shoes. Which reminds me, I should buy some new sneakers as well.”

Reed laughed again. “Well, it’s better than cheesecake.”

“Well, we agree on that. Shoes are better than cheesecake. Barely.”

“I’ve never had a sweet tooth,” he admitted. “I’m more of a savoury kind of guy.”

“I don’t discriminate. I love all food. Which is probably why I was a hundred and fourteen kilos.”

“Hey, I’m ninety-five kilos. Are you saying that’s a lot?”

“Good Lord, no,” I cried. “You’re like a foot taller than me and have a body of a god. Ninety-five on you is perfect. Ninety-five is a dream for me.”

There was a smile in his voice. “I was just kidding. I’m happy with where I’m at.

And it won’t take long for you. You’ll notice clothes getting looser before a change in weight on the scales, so don’t get caught up on numbers.

Obsessing over scales isn’t good for you.

Feeling better and seeing how you look in the mirror and needing smaller clothes is a healthier gauge. ”

“You sound like you know what you’re talking about.”

He was silent a moment. “Yeah. I haven’t always had— What did you call it? The body of a god?”

I laughed. I really did say that, didn’t I? I wasn’t even embarrassed. Much. “Okay, so maybe an Asgardian god, not a Greek god.”

“Ah! Finally a movie reference I understand!” he said excitedly. “Wait. Am I like Thor or Loki?”

“Totally Thor.”

“Oh, I prefer Loki, I think.”

“Really? To be or to date? Because Thor in public and Loki in the bedroom would totally work for me.”

Reed laughed long and loud. “I like the way you think.”

I checked my watch. “Holy shit,” I cried.

I needed to finish getting ready but wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

“Hang on for a sec?” I didn’t wait for his reply.

I threw my phone onto my bed and pulled my sweater on and quickly donned some socks and my favourite boots.

I freshened up in the bathroom the best I could and snatched up my phone. “You still there?”

“Yeah. Everything okay?”

“Oh sure. I just needed to finish getting ready. Anika will kill me if I’m late.”

“Do you need to go?”

“Yes, well no, not really. I’m walking to the pub, so you wanna keep me company on the way there?

” Shoving my keys in my front jeans pocket and wallet in the back, I pulled the front door shut behind me.

The evening air was cooling off, and the busy Balmain street was humming with a Friday night buzz.

“Sure!”

“You can meet us there if you want?”

He paused, and I immediately regretted the invitation. “Nah, I’m already in my trackies in front of the TV, plus I’ve got an early start tomorrow. Maybe next time.”

“Oh for sure,” I said, trying to come off as cool or whatever. “So? What’s for dinner tonight?”

“Baked sweet potato and grilled lamb steaks with a balsamic salad.”

“Oh wow.”

“Yeah, I love it. It’s one of my favourites, and it’s so easy.”

“Is there some secret recipe, or is it as simple as it sounds?”

“I’ll write you out the recipe. Or I could cook it for you one time.” He swallowed hard. “If you want, that is?”

“Oh.”

“Yeah well,” he added quickly, “you brought some of that lemon tart in for me, so it’s only fair I return the favour. I can bring some into the gym for you on Sunday.”

“Or you could cook it for me.” I almost tripped over my own feet on the footpath. I don’t know what made me say that, but it sounded like that’s what he meant, then tried to flounder his way out of it in case I said no. I didn’t want him to feel bad. “I like my lamb cooked medium, thanks.”

He chuckled warmly, a relieved sound. “I’ll try to remember that.”

“And I’ll try and remember to bring another citrus tart.”

He groaned, an almost obscene sound. “If you insist.”

The guttural filthy hum reverberated from my ear down my spine, short-circuiting my brain. I did some kind of Mr Bean flail as I stepped out into Darling Street and was rewarded with a cacophony of curses and honks from traffic. I might have squealed.

Reed’s voice was fast and concerned. “Henry, are you okay?”

“Oh sure,” I replied, my free hand over my pounding heart. “Just sharing my awesome dance moves with oncoming traffic.”

He snorted. “I’m pretty sure a car would win a dance off.”

“Well, you’ve obviously never seen me dance, because that was a mix of Michael Jackson and Michael Flatley.”

He snorted. “Sounds amazing.”

“Of course it was. That’s why they honked.”

He burst out laughing. “You nearly at the pub yet?”

“Almost. A block to go.” It was then I realised I wasn’t out of breath, even after my River Dance with a car. “Huh. I think all that exercise nonsense you’ve been making me do is actually paying off. Not only do my jeans fit, but I’m not even puffing.”

“Ah, there is method in the madness.” There was a smile in his voice.

“Speaking of madness, what time do you start tomorrow?”

“Six.”

“Jesus, ouch. That has to suck.”

“It’s not so bad.”

“The same way that kale isn’t so bad? Is there a kale scale? Like a Richter scale, only with the horrible nastiness that is kale? Kale would be an eight.”

He chuckled. “Oh no, kale would be a six. Oysters would be an eight.”

I nodded. “Agreed. I’ll allow that. Nothing slimy and salty can taste good.” I stopped in my tracks. “Well, that’s not exactly true. Not everything that’s salty and slimy is bad.”

“I hear pineapple helps with that. ”

Now it was me who laughed. “I’ve heard that too, though I think it’s a debunked urban myth.”

“Did I miss an R rated episode of MythBusters?”

“You know, they really should have a sex version of that show.”

“I’m pretty sure the Internet has it covered. Tumblr, Tinder, Grindr.”

“I wouldn’t know. I couldn’t tell you the last time I tried dating. Oh good Lord, dating. Ugh. I’d prefer to eat an oyster and kale salad.”

Reed laughed again. “Yeah, it’s not easy.”

“Have you dated much since… since you became single?”

“No, not really. A few times, but it never felt right. I dunno.” He was quiet for a moment. “You must’ve arrived because I can hear people and music.”

I was standing out the front of the hotel, not really wanting this conversation to end. I spotted Anika at a table, and she waved at me through the crowd. “Yeah, I’m here. And oh please help me, Anika has schnapps. This isn’t going to end well.”

He chuckled into the phone. “Sounds fun. Have a good night.”

“Thanks for chaperoning me on my walk here.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Have a good night.”

“Same to you.”

I disconnected my call and made my way inside and over to Anika. I kissed her cheek. “What’s with the death wish so early in the evening for?” I asked, nodding toward the schnapps.

“Commiserating drinks?” She eyed me cautiously. “Which you don’t apparently need.”

“Why am I commiserating?” I racked my brain trying to think… Oh God. “Did Barry Gibb die? ”

“No, I mean, we gave Graham until today and he didn’t reply.”

“Oh.” Man, I’d not given that a thought. “I forgot about that.”

Anika watched me for a long, scrutinising minute.

She then noticed I was still holding my phone, and she took it from me.

“Whoever you were talking to on the phone out there had you smiling,” she said as she scrolled through my call list. “Jesus Henry. You were talking to Reed for an hour and twelve minutes!”

“We had things to discuss!”

“Such as?”

“Well, a few things… Thor, kale, and why gay men should eat pineapple.”

Anika blinked, and a slow-spreading smile covered her face. “Are you and him…?”

“What? No! I told you before, he’s so far out of my league it’s ridiculous. And I’m not ready for that!”

She waved my phone in my face. “An hour and twelve minute phone call tells me otherwise.”

I let out a long-suffering sigh, picked up my shot of schnapps, and downed it. Then, to prove my point, I picked up Anika’s shot glass and downed it too.

And that pretty much sums up how my night went.