Better Than Good (11 page)

The next time, it was Aaron calling me. He said he was wondering about a restaurant suggestion for after the show. He warned me they would try to stuff us full of canapés, but we would probably still be hungry. Did I fancy Indian food? I had no idea what a canapé was, and I hadn’t had much Indian food but assured him I was game to give it a try. The conversation began while I was making my way home from my internship, through the mass of traffic getting back to Georgetown, and then through a short hike to the market to pick up something quick for dinner. I hung up with him once I was back at my apartment, finishing the conversation as I put away a few groceries. And yeah, I had a big stupid smile on my face.

“Who was that?” Dave had wandered into the small kitchen, chomping on what looked like reheated Chinese.

“Oh, my friend Aaron.”

“Aaron. Sweet. When did you meet her?” I gave him a second glance but realized he truly thought I’d met a girl named Erin and wasn’t deliberately being a dick. I had no reason to think my friends would know about Aaron, though. I’d kept this, whatever it was, between us quiet. I wasn’t sure I was ready to share him, but not because I was ashamed. It had more to do with wanting something real to happen and not wanting to jinx my chances by speaking of it prematurely. Superstitious. Yes, I admit it.

“A while ago, and we’re just friends,” I explained while I folded my recycle bags.

“Oh. You sounded kinda funny. You know, like you were talking to a hot date, maybe a new chick.”

“Mmm. No, not a chick. Who says ‘chick’ anyway?” Dave just shrugged good-naturedly and plopped down in front of the television.

T
HURSDAY
finally arrived. I whistled my way through two classes and worked three hours at the firm before racing back to my apartment to get ready for my date—correction, my art gallery and dinner outing with my friend, Aaron. He had strongly suggested a nice pair of dark slacks, a sharp oxford shirt (“I know you own one, Matty.”), and a dark blazer (“Really optional, but you’d look great in one.”). He assured me a tie wasn’t necessary. Good. I showered, shaved, and dressed as instructed before swiping my keys off the table on my way back out the door.

Curt and Dave were just coming in as I was about to step out. Dave was carrying a twelve pack of beer, and Curt had what looked like a bag of munchies in his hand.

“Dude! You look nice. Where you going? Hot date?” Dave pushed past me on his way to the kitchen to deposit his goods.

“Um, well actually, I’m going to an art gallery show with a friend of mine.” I was tucking my scarf into my nicest coat when I caught the look my buddies gave each other and then me. “What?”

“Who is she, Matt? Come on… you’re holding out on us!” Great. Now Curt was curious. That was more worrisome than Dave’s questioning. Curt was tenacious. If he wanted answers, he wouldn’t stop until he was satisfied. Well, he’d have to wait, I decided. I didn’t want to be late picking up Aaron.

“Not she. I’m going with my friend Aaron. See you guys.” I escaped immediately, but the look on Curt’s face told me he remembered Aaron and that I had some explaining to do. Whatever. I would deal with my friends’ curiosity later.

I made it to Aaron’s in record time, sending him a text when I was in front of his building. A car was pulling out of a prime spot near his building’s main entrance, so I maneuvered my way over to snag it in case Aaron wasn’t ready. Aaron called me just as I’d set my car in park.

“Matty, I’m so sorry. I am running so behind. I need another ten minutes. Come on up? I promise I’ll hurry. You remember the way?”

“Sure. 5E, right?”

“Impressive. I’m off!”

He sounded winded, like he was indeed in a major rush. I could hear music pumping loudly in the background. Must be his method of unwinding. I smiled to myself, thinking we were similar in that music was definitely how I unwound after a long, stressful day, and yet how different our musical choices were! His dance music made me cringe a little inside, but somehow it made sense to me that it worked for him.

Of course, it came as no surprise as the elevator opened to the fifth floor that the bass boom could be heard down the hall. I shook my head, wondering if he’d hear my knock and how the hell his neighbors put up with him. The door was actually open a bit, possibly in anticipation of my arrival.

“Aaron?” I called over the incessant beat of a Black Eyed Peas song I sort of recognized as I closed the door behind me. I noticed his place was as tidy as I remembered on my first visit; however, a peek into his bedroom just beyond showed a ransacked mess. Wardrobe issue? I couldn’t think with the music blaring, and I had yet to see my host. I saw a speaker set up on his kitchen counter and made my way over to put myself, as well as the rest of his building, out of our misery. That caught his attention.

“Oh, hi!” Aaron sashayed into the room wearing very tight black leather pants and a floral-print, blousy-looking button-down shirt. His gorgeous eyes were heavily lined and highlighted with what looked like glitter. His feet were bare, and I think his toes were actually painted to match the black or dark-blue hue on his fingers. He kissed my cheek in greeting and grabbed a small tube of lip gloss, which he used liberally as he took in my appearance.

“You look sexy,” he said once his lips were painted to his satisfaction. “I just need to find my boots and I’ll be ready to go!”

“Whoa. Wait a sec. I look like I’m attending a conservative gallery opening, and you appear to be going clubbing. I’m a little at a loss here, Aaron.” That was an understatement. I had a bad feeling I was being set up again. Aaron, I suspected, had set a scene into play, and I was supposed to figure it out. Fuck it. I didn’t mind a little mystery, but he had me unnerved again. Was he attending the gallery show and then ditching me to go clubbing? I didn’t think so, because he asked about dinner. I was in over my head, way over my head.

“Don’t be silly. You look delicious.” I raised my eyebrows at that, and he flashed one of those beautiful smiles at me. I forgot for a second what we were talking about and remembered the last time I’d been here. He must have noticed something akin to desire in my expression, because he looked flustered and quickly busied himself trying to find his boots.

“Are we going to a gallery? I’m confused.” My focus returned when he left the room to find socks back in his bedroom.

“Of course. I told Richie I’d go, so I must. What’s the matter? Don’t you want to?”

“Yes. I’m… I guess I’m a little confused about how differently we’re dressed. That’s all.” It sounded stupid said aloud, but hey, it was true.

“People dress differently all the time, Matt. Self-expression, right? You don’t like my outfit?”

He didn’t seem overly concerned with my answer, which I guessed was the point. We were different. He made a point of telling me to dress how he assumed I would for an art gallery function (correctly, I admitted to myself) and then dressed as he chose. We were two completely different people, and we looked it. I didn’t seem like the kind of guy Aaron would ever look twice at, and he probably assumed he wasn’t someone I would be attracted to.

The funny thing was that, in theory, he was correct, but the fact was that I was more intrigued than ever. What else was in store for me tonight? I had a feeling I was going to get a lesson in why we shouldn’t try to be more than friends. I smiled at the thought, but felt more determined than ever to change his mind.

Aaron declared himself ready, although when he told me we could walk from his apartment, I did insist he at least put a jacket on. The night was clear and brisk, and the walk was refreshing, if relatively short. Aaron kept me entertained with what I thought were somewhat exaggerated stories of the highs and lows of his day so far. I found myself laughing as he modulated his voice to impersonate a coworker, his hands never still during his tales of life at a midrate magazine, as he so eloquently stated.

We were soon at our destination, a hip gallery near Dupont Circle. We entered what looked like an old brick façade storefront. The interior, however, was a contemporary surprise. It was completely hollowed out, with exposed air ducts and a super high ceiling. The floors were a highly polished maple, while the walls were bright white and proved a brilliant backdrop to the oversized black-and-white photography gracing them. It was a terrific space. I found myself drawn to the art immediately and interested in the story behind each piece.

Aaron was greeted at the door by a large, redheaded older woman dressed in black and draped in colorful scarves, who literally smothered him into her chest as she kissed his cheek in greeting.

“Darling! You’re here! Richie has been asking after you, pumpkin. Go find him and let him know he has friends here. He’s so nervous tonight. The usual, I know… and yet, look at this place! Amazing! As usual.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to see! Gilda, this is my friend, Matt. Matt, Gilda owns the gallery. Richie, I’ll introduce you in a sec, is an artist-slash-photographer, and he is always nervous on opening nights! He’s very talented. You’ll see.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Matt. Get that boy a glass of something, Aaron. You’re being a terrible friend!” She blew Aaron a kiss and turned to greet guests arriving just behind us.

I followed Aaron into the space and was indeed impressed with his friend’s obvious talent. A handsome waiter dressed completely in black came around to offer us a glass of wine. We each took one and turned to gaze together at a large photograph of the New York City skyline. I looked at Aaron, who seemed lost in thought for a moment. I reached over to wipe the smudge of red lipstick from Gilda’s enthusiastic greeting off his cheek, and he gave me a weak grin.

“What are you thinking?” I asked him.

“I wish I was there sometimes.” He sounded so wistful.

“New York?”

“Yeah. I love it there. Someday, that’s where I want to live.” He sighed and the longing in his expression said more than his simple words.

“Why? Don’t you like DC?”

“Sure. Of course. But, I’m from here practically. I want to see more, do more, you know? I can’t see myself on the west coast, but I can definitely see myself in the Big Apple. How about you? If you could live anywhere, where would you live?”

“New York.”

He turned to face me, looking like he wanted to give me shit for making fun of him, but he must have seen that I was serious.

“I mean it.” I shrugged in response. “I’m from a small town outside of Pittsburgh. I love this city. Don’t get me wrong. But once I have my law degree, pass the bar here, and have a couple of years of experience with a reputable firm, I want to move on and see if I can make it there. The ultimate challenge, so they say, is New York City. ‘New York, New York…. If you can make it there, you can make it anywhere’,” I quoted.

Aaron mustn’t have expected such an impassioned speech about NYC from me. His mouth was literally open in astonishment. I went on complete impulse, figuring I’d apologize if I had to, and leaned forward, placing a chaste kiss on his mouth. He closed his eyes when our lips met, and I took the invitation, deepening the kiss and closing my own eyes, momentarily lost in Aaron. Until someone came up behind us and coughed loudly. Aaron started and jumped away from me in surprise.

“Richie!”

“Hi, baby! So happy to see you! Who did you bring us?”

I couldn’t help but be a little irritated at Richie’s interruption, but I could tell upon meeting him that he wasn’t the type you could stay angry with for long. He was smiling at Aaron in obvious adoration, but he was so much older that I took it to be a fatherly sort of look and not pervy. He was a few inches shorter than Aaron, and if I had seen Richie’s application of makeup before I’d seen Aaron’s eyeliner and gloss, I wouldn’t have even noticed Aaron was wearing any. Richie was decked in colored eye shadow, blush, and lipstick. He was dressed more like Aaron, in tighter-fitting black jeans and a black velvet jacket with a hint of a fuchsia-pink T-shirt underneath. He looked genuinely happy to see Aaron and equally happy to meet me. I smiled in return and offered him my hand in greeting.

“Hi, I’m Matt. Aaron’s friend. Your photography is absolutely incredible. I’m so glad Aaron invited me tonight.” I knew I was probably laying it on a little thick, but he appeared to appreciate it and Aaron was giving me the sweetest shy smile, so I figured I was doing the right thing after all.

“Thank you. So very nice to meet you, Matt.” Richie shook my hand enthusiastically, smiling all the while. He winked at Aaron and then turned to kiss his cheek. I thought I heard him say something like, “Don’t let this one get away, honey,” before he turned to greet other patrons in the now-crowded gallery.

We made our way through the exhibit, sipping wine and commenting here and there on Richie’s artistic vision. I learned that Aaron had met Richie when he taught a class on photography at the university Aaron attended. They’d been friends for a few years now. I was introduced to his partner, Dean, as well, who was Richie’s polar opposite. Tall and robust, he looked a bit like a gangster from an old Humphrey Bogart movie. In fact, I thought maybe he meant business partner until I caught Dean’s arm move protectively around Richie’s shoulder in a lover’s embrace at one point. It made me smile. Things aren’t as you assume.

I couldn’t help but notice the exhibit’s attendees were almost all gay or lesbian. I had never been introduced to so many partners outside of a law firm. The patronage ranged from very effeminate to very masculine for both male and female. Aaron kept an eye on me, I’m sure, gauging my reaction. I wondered if he thought I’d be scared away by the rampant homosexuality in the room. Honestly, I found it liberating in a way I couldn’t quite explain.

“Are you hungry, or did you have one too many canapés?” Aaron asked as we left the gallery.

“Canapés are hors d’oeuvres, right? I ate a couple, but I’m starving. Do you still want Indian?”

Aaron laughed. “Yeah, Indian sounds great. Curry chicken would be divine right about now. What did you think of the exhibit?”