The Imperfection of Swans (28 page)

He didn’t say them. However, he was fairly certain that if he had said them, the sky wouldn’t have crumbled like it was supposed to.

Maybe Casper read Kevin’s mind. Or maybe he’d been thinking similar thoughts. Whatever the cause, he pulled Kevin in closer and pressed a kiss against Kevin’s temple.

“AND HERE
I thought you’d take me to Tatte’s, have Charu whip up some fancy creation.” Kevin pointed to the menu. “This is about as far away from a bakery as you can get.”

“We can go to Tatte’s after if you want. You know I’m never going to turn down baked goods. But no, this is a date. I want you to be comfortable, and I want you to know that I’ve been paying attention, that I know who I asked out.”

“This place does all that, huh?”

Casper leaned forward on the table. “It better. I know that if I took you to a bakery or another place filled with carbs you would feel self-conscious and worry about how much gym time you’d have to do later. This place is delicious and guilt free. It’s all organic. It’s all gluten free, and you can mix and match anything.”

He had been paying attention. It made Kevin worry he’d been paying too much attention. Although he doubted Casper would tease about it if he realized a huge, carb-heavy meal triggered more than just an extralong workout. “I’m impressed.”

“And I won’t even mock you if you only order a salad, although you really should try their free-range chicken kabob.” He pointed at a plate that a server delivered to a nearby table. “Or whatever that is. Looks amazing.”

Again Kevin was struck with how relaxed he felt. Completely amazing.

The server soon brought over a small complimentary tray of hummus and vegetables and took their orders.

“So, I hear you like to try on wedding dresses.” Casper grinned playfully at him. “What’s that about? It is a lifestyle choice or just kink?”

Kevin shook his head, laughing. “Shut up.”

“Just trying out some first-date conversations.” Casper dipped a carrot stick and lifted a huge serving of hummus to his lips.

“Kink is a first-date conversation?” Kevin followed suit and retrieved a carrot.

“It is, when you had sex the night before the first date.” Even as he said it, Casper’s cheeks flushed adorably. He motioned to the carrot Kevin held. “No hummus?”

“There’s actually more fat and calories in hummus than people think.”

Casper waited, possibly to see if Kevin was serious. “Well, it’s a good thing I already said I wasn’t going to mock. More hummus for me.”

“Actually, I do have a first-date question.”

“Oh, really? I thought you’d be worried about that.” He waved the carrot suggestively, at least as much as one can make a baby carrot suggestive. “Yes, I do put out on the first date.”

“Good Lord.” Kevin glanced around. The other tables weren’t paying attention. He settled back on Casper’s twinkling eyes. “Moving on…. Tell me about your family. Do you have any siblings?”

“Oh, real first date stuff. Okay, then.”

Kevin rushed ahead. “Unless it’s painful. We can talk about other stuff.”

“No, not at all. I’ve got one sister, Kelly. She’s your age, and she’s doing the whole husband, kids, house gig.” He shrugged. “She’s good at it.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No. Just not for me. Though it’s what Mom and Dad wanted for me, so I guess I’m a little curious if that’s really what Kelly wanted or if she just bought into our folks’ plan for us.”

“I used to want kids. I’m not so sure anymore. Plus, I’m pushing forty and just now opening this business, and that’s going to be a little time-consuming.” Kevin thought back, trying to recall past conversations. “And they’re all in Colorado, right?”

Casper nodded. “Yeah. Colorado Springs.”

“Oh, right. I remember you saying that. It has that big church there or something.”

“Focus on the Family. And it’s more of a Christian zombie-producing compound than a church. In my opinion.”

“I take it you’re not a fan. Probably not easy to come out there.”

“No, it wasn’t, but as you’ve noticed, I tend to say what I think. I came out freshman year of high school, which I think helped me avoid some of the pressure from the fanatics. I was
that
kid. Already too far gone. Way past being saved.” Casper’s laugh didn’t sound bitter.

“And your folks, how are they with it?” Kevin wasn’t sure where the twenty questions were coming from. Maybe he was more nervous than he realized.

Casper tilted his hand back and forth. “Decent. They were never part of the big religious crowd, so they aren’t really convinced I’m burning for all eternity. We see each other every couple of years, and talk on the phone fairly regularly. They love me, but they don’t really get me. They’re more along the lines of follow the rest of society. Marry your high school sweetheart, have kids, work your job for forty years, have grandkids, throw a retirement party. You know, the new American dream.”

Kevin shuddered. “Dear God. Thank goodness I was raised by lesbians!”

Casper’s laugh was loud enough to draw the other tables’ attention. He lifted his hand as an apology. “I actually think that would have been pretty awesome.”

Even more awesome than Kevin had realized, it seemed. “It was pretty great.” Kevin forced a laugh. “You know, I’m sort of a carbon copy of my mom, so you can imagine what having me as a parent could do to a kid.”

Casper grinned and pointed at the hummus. “Lots of neuroses?”

Kevin was truly surprised at how much he liked Casper’s blunt nature. It was a quality he rarely found appealing. Though Casper had a way about it that kept it from feeling rude. “You could say that. Though I can’t blame all of them on her.”

“So, since we’re already heading in that vein, you’ve drilled me with first-date questions, is it my turn?”

“Sure, go for it. What do you want to know about being raised by lesbians?”

“Actually, I’ve been around your moms enough that I think I kinda got the gist. And I think your moms are pretty great, by the way.” He started to reach for more hummus, then seemed to reconsider. “I’m actually more curious about your anxiety. When did that start?”

“
That’s
a first-date question?” Just having Casper ask made his stress level shoot up.

“Let’s be honest. We’re a little beyond first-date questions at this point.” Casper reached out and took Kevin’s hand, moving his thumb over the back of it slowly. “It looks like I just freaked you out, though. We so don’t have to go there. I’m sorry. I just want to understand and thought maybe it would feel good to talk about it.”

In a move that made Kevin have a little more trust in fate, the server arrived at that moment with their meals. She set a huge bowl in front of Kevin. “The spaghetti squash casserole with humanely raised lamb meatballs.” She moved over to Casper’s side. “And a salad with vinaigrette on the side. Is there anything else I can get you?”

Casper smiled at her, his voice sounding like he was holding back a laugh. “No. We’re good. Thank you.”

After she walked away, they exchanged plates. Kevin’s stomach grumbled at the smell of Casper’s food. He was so tired of salad.

“Kev, I really am sorry. Let’s talk about something else. Like….” Casper looked around the restaurant for ideas, then focused back on Kevin’s plate. “Did you have your moms pack you a salad every day in kindergarten?”

Kevin barely caught himself before he flinched. He glanced across the table at Casper. Did he have any clue that he’d pushed into the other issue that had no name?

He didn’t seem to, but maybe….

Casper grinned apologetically. “Okay. I said no mocking. I take it back.”

“Actually, it’s okay to talk about the anxiety.” Better than talking about food. He felt the Xanax in his pocket. It was there if he needed it. Scott had never asked about his anxiety, other than trying to help him calm down when it flared up. Casper constantly put him at ease—might as well try out what could happen with a topic like this. “You wanted to know when it started, right?”

From most other people, the expression of compassion on Casper’s face would have looked like condescending pity. On Casper it just looked like… love? “We don’t have to, Kev.”

“No. Let’s try it.” Kevin took a bite of his salad, buying himself a little more time. He didn’t taste it. Not that there was much to taste. After chewing for a bit, he dove in, moving his left hand under the table to rest over the pill, just in case. “I bet it’s always been there, even when I was little, but I remember when the panic attacks started. It was sixth grade, when I entered middle school.”

The restaurant disappeared, Casper, everything. Even his awareness of the pill didn’t intrude on the recalled memories.

“We had a big assembly that first week of middle school. The principal told us about this award one of us could win. The Perfect Citizen Award. One person in each eighth grade class could win it, and it all started from that assembly. To get the award they looked at all we had done in sixth, seventh, and eighth grade. They took into account our grades, attendance, how helpful we were to teachers and other students, how many extracurricular activities we were involved in. I joined student council, I was in choir, drama, and the ambassadors club. I never got below an A on anything. Not on one thing.

“And it wasn’t easy. I wasn’t really great at the typical schoolwork stuff. I had to study like crazy every night. There were many nights I got home after choir or play practice and had to work on homework until eleven or eleven thirty at night, then get up at six to do more before school started. In seventh grade I got a job delivering newspapers, as cliché as that sounds, so then I had to start getting up even earlier and doing that on weekends too. I began getting panic attacks, though I didn’t know what they were. That’s also when the acid reflux kicked in. I thought I was going insane. Or dying. But either way, I was going to get that award….” His voice trailed off, and the restaurant slowly came back into focus.

Casper was staring at him, mouth agape. At some point, he’d taken Kevin’s hand again, though Kevin hadn’t noticed. “Do you need your pill, Kev?”

It took a second for Kevin to realize why he’d asked.

His cheeks were covered in tears.

Embarrassed, he quickly took his hand from Casper’s and wiped his face with his napkin. He started to reach into his pocket for the pill, but paused. Actually he was okay. Or at least okay enough. There didn’t seem to be an attack coming, which was surprising, considering. “No. I think I’ll be okay.” He reached out and took Casper’s hand, which Casper had left extended on the table, once more.

“Did you get the award?” Casper spoke in barely a whisper.

Kevin nodded. “Yeah. I did. The very last assembly in eighth grade. They had everybody dress up and attend in the evening. None of us knew who got it, so we sat there as the speakers went on and on and on. I nearly had to run out of the assembly to vomit so many times. I have no idea how I made it through. But when they called my name, it was the best feeling of my entire life.”

He used his free hand to wipe another tear. “Even now. That is the clearest memory I have. Well, not really, the whole thing is a blur. I didn’t even believe they’d called my name; they had to say it twice for me to go get the trophy. But I remember that feeling. It was unreal. And we all went to a huge, fancy dinner after to celebrate. That’s when I told them I wanted to own a wedding dress shop. My uncle asked what I wanted to do with all my success. I said own a huge store of wedding gowns.” Even now, even with the reality of it upon him, the thought was still soothing, comforting. “Everybody was there. Everybody. Not just my moms. The entire family was there, all of them. Even for us, it was a huge feast. So much food. And of course, you’re supposed to just keep eating and eating, it’s rude if you don’t, but you have to stay in shape and be beautiful….” He cut off abruptly when he realized he was saying too much.

If Casper noticed, he didn’t let on. “Do you still have the award?”

Kevin’s laugh exploded out of him so hard it nearly hurt, but he didn’t bother with worrying about the tables around him. “Are you fucking kidding? Of course I do. I’m never letting that thing go. It’s in a box right now, but that’s just because of all the moving lately.”

Kevin expected Casper to ask to see it sometime, but he didn’t. “Did you get another award like that in high school?”

“No. They didn’t have them. I wasn’t valedictorian or anything, but I never slowed down. Never got less than an A. I started to do more plays and got a second job.”

There was that look on Casper’s face once more. Almost pity, but it wasn’t. Thank God. “No wonder you’re so driven.”

Kevin wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he finally took a second bite of salad.

They ate in silence for a while before Casper spoke up again. “I just want to point out that you don’t have to be perfect right now. I’ve no doubt you’ll work your ass off, and I will too, but neither of us has to be perfect for Bella Dolce to be great.”

Kevin nodded, not wanting to disagree, but completely disagreeing.

“And you don’t have to be perfect for me, either.” Casper’s expression, whatever it was, shifted into something that looked a little more like trepidation. “I know I shouldn’t say this so soon, but whatever. You don’t have to be perfect for us to be great together. In fact, I hope you’re not, because I sure can’t be. But I will promise you this, right now. Even though I won’t be perfect, I will work just as hard at making us work as I do on the bakery.”

IT TOOK
some time for the date to resume its light and easy feel, but they got there. They walked around the neighborhood for a while, holding hands, laughing, enjoying the spring night air.

What amazed Kevin more than anything was that he hadn’t taken that damn pill. He had to take the Aciphex, as the salad had decided to fight back, but his anxiety seemed to be taking a rest that evening. And while he didn’t understand it, he was grateful for it.

“So I told you that you wouldn’t get more kisses until our date this evening, and that still hasn’t happened.” Casper stopped under a lamppost, and the light lit up his face and reflected off his glasses. “Can we change that now?”