Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Dates & Denim

 

SATURDAY, JANUARY 18, 2003

SHERMAN OAKS, CA 12:57 P.M.

It was almost one. Cynthia was at the table in the diner next to her parents’ hotel waiting for them. She was nursing a glass of water wondering where they could have been. She had to turn the waitress away three times since she had been warned by her mother not to order without them. She finally saw them walking through the parking lot to the diner.

Her mother, Agnes, was dressed as the perfect tourist. She had a large Hollywood t-shirt on and wearing short pants with an image of Marilyn Monroe airbrushed on the left leg. She topped the whole ensemble off with a fanny pack that couldn’t stay in one place along her waist as it moved back and forth to the movement of her hips. Her father trailed behind wearing just a plain shirt and blue jeans. She watched through the window and noticed how perfect an extreme her father and mother were for each other. Her dad could barely stay awake for more than a couple hours while her mother was just a ball of energy. Cynthia had a theory that she must have been siphoning energy out of him. As they made their way across the asphalt, Mrs. Davis saw Cynthia at the booth and waved.

They both walked into the diner and made a B-line for Cynthia’s booth. They both slid in without a word and settled in their seats. Agnes sat up brightly lit as she stared at Cynthia with a mother’s adoring eyes.

“Oh, honey! It’s so good to see you again! It’s been so long.”

“Mom, I was home for the holidays.”

“But that was such a long time ago.”

“It was a month ago.”

“Oh, humor your mother! Besides, a week is too long when you’re away from your child. I don’t know why you insist on living here of all places. I mean, when your father and I got off the plane, we saw two men kissing! Kissing! Right there in public! I couldn’t believe it. And if I told you half the stories your Aunt Perdie tells me. I just don’t feel comfortable with you living here all by yourself.”

“Well, mom, I’m not alone.” Her mother perked up to this news.

“Oh really?”

“Jason lives right next door. You remember Jason?”

“Oh, him.” Agnes said, disappointed.

“Yes. Him.” Cynthia said with a hint of anger.

“Oh, honey. I love Jason. I do. He’s a very sweet boy, but I can tell he has no intentions as far as you’re concerned. Don’t waste your time. You need to find a man who is ready for commitment. You need someone who’s ready to be a husband and a father.”

“I don’t really.”

“Yes you do! You’re not getting any younger. The end of your child bearing years is within sight. I cannot allow you to live your life just so you end up with a whole list of regrets when you get to be my age.”

“I have no doubt. So, where’s this Douglas Smythe?”

“Oh, Ned’s boy. Well, we haven’t been able to reach him yet, but we left him a message on his answering machine with our room number. He knows we’re here, and I’m sure he’s as excited to see you as you are to see him.”

“I’ll bet.” Cynthia said under her breath. They sat for a moment with nothing to say. Trent had fallen asleep and was whistling through his nose. Agnes was reorganizing the condiments and menus on the table, and Cynthia was staring blankly out the window, wishing she was anyplace but there.

A cell phone began to ring. Cynthia looked around but didn’t see anyone answering. She noticed the ringing was coming from a nearby location. She listened and as best as she could tell, the sound was coming from right in front of her. Her mother.

“Mom?” She asked. “Is that your phone ringing?” Agnes thought a moment and then dove for the phone in her fanny pack.

“I forgot! I set up the call forwarding!”

Cynthia sat puzzled, wondering how her mother had become such an expert with cell phones, yet still couldn’t set the time on her VCR.

“Hello? Oh, Douglas! Yes, this is Mrs. Davis. Yes. We’re at a little diner at the Holiday Inn. Yes. That’s the one. Okay. See you in a bit, dear,” Agnes clicked off the phone and put it away. “That was Douglas. He’ll be here in a few minutes.”

“Mom! I thought this was just going to be a quick hi there and hello thing. I have things to do! I can’t sit here all day!” Cynthia barked as she checked her watch. She saw the day was quickly slipping away.

“I’m sorry, dear. Just be patient. Let’s just order some lunch. I’m sure he’ll be here in no time.”

Just as they were all finishing their lunches, Douglas finally walked in. Agnes saw him in the corner of her eye. She got up and started waving her arms wildly.

“Douglas! Over here!” Cynthia pulled her back down.

“Mom! Sit down! People are going to think you’re having a seizure.”

Douglas saw Agnes and started making his way over to their booth. Cynthia looked over and saw a tall, dark, and handsome man dressed in denim and wearing boots. He had a thick mustache covering his upper lip and sharply cropped dark brown hair.

“That’s Douglas?”

“Yes.” Douglas stopped at their table, towering over them like a giant.

“Hi.” He said in soft tone that betrayed his rugged look.

“Hi.” Cynthia said coyly, avoiding his eyes. Agnes smiled broadly. She turned to Trent and roused him from his coma-like nap.

“Come on honey, let’s leave these two alone.”

Cynthia’s father gave an inaudible grunt and got up as he was instructed.

“All right, now you two talk. Get to know each other. Cynthia. You be sure to call me tonight.” Agnes said as she forced her husband along. Cynthia leapt up from the table and caught up with her.

“Mom! What the hell is that!?”

“What do you mean dear?”

“Douglas is totally not my type!”

“He’s a very nice boy.”

“He’s killed at least three animals for that get up he’s wearing! He’s just some over pumped, macho freak!”

“I realize he may not be your cup of tea exactly, but a lot of girls would find him to be quite attractive. Just sit down with him and talk. Learn about him.” Agnes then turned and walked out to the parking lot, dragging her husband along with her. Cynthia retreated back to the table where Douglas was already seated.

“Hi, again.” Cynthia slid in across from Douglas and smiled weakly at his joke. She took a sip from her glass of water. Douglas tapped the tips of his fingers on the tabletop.

“So.” He started.

“So. Look, let’s be honest,” She began. “You aren’t my type and I’m sure I’m not your type. I don’t eat meat, I don’t wear animal skins and I am a regular contributor to public television. If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to just get up from here and call this a wash. Okay?”

“Well, I don’t think I like that. I’d prefer to stay.”

“What?”

“I’m not a vegetarian myself, but I respect it. I don’t wear animal skins either. These boots are imitation leather, and I also contribute to PBS. I have the tote bag to prove it,” Cynthia let a small giggle escaper her lips. “Now, your mother told me a bit about you, and I was really impressed by what she said. I came here today to find out more. I intend to do that, if you’re okay with that. Are you?” Cynthia sat back, looking at Douglas as though he had just sideswiped her.

“All right. We can stay.”

“Great. I guess we should get the boring ‘first date’ questions out of the way first, so where do you live?”

“Oh, Uh, I live in Van Nuys. Nice little apartment. You?”

“Hollywood. I’m not gay.” He said, as if by instinct.

“I didn’t say you were.”

“I know, it’s just, a lot of people think just because I live in Hollywood and I dress like a cowboy, I’m gay.”

“Oh, I didn’t think that. Although, the whole western motif should be rethought.”

“Well, I don’t dress like this on purpose. I just like denim. And I like my boots. They’re comfortable.”

“I can totally respect that.”

“Your mom said you were a massage therapist.”

“Yes. She’s terribly disappointed by it, but I like it. I make my own hours, and I can usually make a month’s worth of pay in a few days. By the way, it’s legitimate massage. Most of the time when I tell people what I do, they get strange ideas.”

“Not me. I’d never assume anything like that. I actually got a massage a few months ago. It was great. I had a lot of stress. It totally loosened me up.”

“Really? What do you do? For a living?”

“I’m in construction. In fact I just won a contract for a new shopping center in Sherman Oaks.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” Douglas noticed the strings of beads Cynthia was wearing. “Those are nice.” He said, pointing to her jewelry.

“Oh, thank you. I actually made these. They’re what I call Harmony Beads. Each one is painted with colors that are in tune with my aura and arranged for maximum harmonic convergence.” Cynthia noticed the look of confusion on Douglas’ face.

“I don’t understand much of any of that new age stuff. I just thought they were pretty, but all that other stuff sounds real impressive.” Cynthia smiled at his sweetness and found it increasingly difficult to stop smiling the more they talked.

They sat at the booth for another ten minutes talking and Cynthia found her initial opinion of Douglas dramatically changing.

“Listen,” Douglas blurted “I think we’ve done enough of the getting to know each other thing. Right now I think we need a little mental stimulation. Want to see if we can catch a movie?” Cynthia blanked. She checked her watch. It was just a little after three.

“I don’t know. You seem like a nice guy, but I wasn’t really planning on making this an all-day thing.”

“Neither was I, but you can’t really plan things like this, can you? Come on. What’s the harm? A movie. Haven’t you ever done anything spontaneous?”

“Yes, but I really don’t know you.”

“Do I look like some kind of freak or rapist?”

“No, but neither did Ted Bundy.”

“How about if we take separate cars?”

“You’re really fighting for this, aren’t you?”

“I can be very persistent.” Douglas said and then flashed his perfectly white teeth in a charming smile. Everything Cynthia believed was being challenged and she found herself unable to find any real reason to say no.

“Fine.” She said at last.

“Great!”

They both slid out and walked out of the diner. Cynthia followed behind Douglas in a total trance. She had never met a man who so personified masculinity and very much to her surprise, she was really digging it.

An hour or so later, Douglas and Cynthia were standing in line at one of many, many movie theaters that could be found in Burbank.

She enjoyed that part the most. They were squeezed in between the ropes that defined the lines for the ticket booth. The crowd was so thick, they were both crammed together tightly. She was enjoying the feeling of his body pressing to hers. She looked up at him to give him a little smile, only to discover he was looking down at her, also smiling. They were coming closer to the end of the line, when Douglas noticed a couple of guys standing off to the side. They were laughing and pointing in Cynthia’s direction. Douglas took immediate interest in the object of their amusement. Cynthia saw a primal spark appear in his eyes. He then suddenly jumped over the rope and strode over to the boys aggressively. Cynthia looked on in confusion.

“Excuse me gentlemen, but I couldn’t help but notice you seemed to be laughing at something. I would like to know what is so funny.” He said in a booming voice. He was so loud she could hear him quite clearly from her place in line. In fact it seemed everyone in the general vicinity could hear him as a small crowd was beginning to form. The two guys Douglas was barking at both looked to be in their early or mid-twenties with large, athletic builds. Frat boy types. They looked over Douglas’ shoulder at Cynthia.

“Man, that girl you’re with? What’s with all those beads?” The first guy chuckled.

“Her jewelry? What’s wrong with it? I think it looks nice.” He looked back over to Cynthia.

“Oh, my God!” The other thick necked thug chimed. “What is she? Some tree hugging witch freakoid?” Douglas’ eyes popped open and his neck turned red. Cynthia tried to make out what was going on from the line, as she didn’t want to lose their place. She was starting to worry if this would escalate into a fight. She hoped it wouldn’t.

The last thing she needed was to have to go to the emergency room on a first date. Besides, she didn’t want anything to happen to that beautiful face of Douglas’. Beauty was such a fragile thing, especially in men. One good punch could mar him forever but faster than she could blink, she saw Douglas throw a tight right and drop both frat boys at the same time with one punch. He calmly turned and rejoined her in line.

The whole crowd outside the theater seemed to freeze in time. Cynthia couldn’t take her gaze off of Douglas’ calm features. They stepped up to the ticket booth. Douglas was quick to pay for both tickets, and they proceeded into the theater, the whole time, an awed hush held the crowd. Cynthia looked around. She felt like Lois Lane on a date with Superman himself. She was surprising herself at how impressed she was over that blatant display of machismo. A dedicated believer in equal rights. Believing the age of the strong man and weak woman as antiquated as videotapes, she would normally abhor such behavior, but there was something in her that was so enjoying it. She felt like she was betraying some of her most deeply held beliefs, but at that moment, she didn’t care.

They sat in the back of the auditorium for the movie. He kept his large, muscled arm around her the whole time. She basked in his radiating warmth. She was so mesmerized; she could barely keep her mind on the action up on the screen. She kept sneaking quick glances at Douglas, noting how good he looked even in the dark.

After the movie was over, they stayed in their seats until the last of the audience had left. They just sat enjoying the music playing over the speakers.

“You know, that whole macho episode out front didn’t impress me.”

“I didn’t expect it to. I really wasn’t even planning on throwing a punch.”

“Then why did you?”

“They said something about you, and it was pretty nasty. I was brought up not to say such things about women, and when such things are said, action must be taken.”

“That seems awfully retro to me.”

“Maybe it is, but that’s what my parents taught me.”

“I just didn’t want you to think I enjoyed it or approved or anything.”

“Of course not.” Cynthia looked over Douglas’ shoulder and saw the theater staff lined up at the front of the auditorium waiting to start cleaning up.

“They’re going to throw us out soon. They have to clean up in here.”

“Then we’ve got a little time. I really didn’t expect for this to happen.”

“What?”

“Liking you so much. The moment I saw you, I just was floored. You aren’t like anyone I’ve ever known before.”

“I hope that’s a good thing.”

“It is,” He assured. “It definitely is.” He looked at her with a pensive gaze. “May I kiss you?” Cynthia was speechless. She had never been asked that before. She could only manage to nod and with that confirmation, Douglas raised her chin with his finger and slowly pressed his furry lip to her delicate mouth. Cynthia almost orgasmed at that moment.

She had never felt anything so warm and soft before. The hairs of his mustache gently tickled her face. His lips were just soft enough, just moist enough. His mouth almost completely enveloped her lower jaw. When he pulled away, she had to fight to catch her breath. She looked at him with glazed eyes and the look in his eyes was unmistakable. If she had never seen love before, she had seen it then. He smiled and took her shoulder and pulled her into his chest. They stayed like that even after the cleaning staff had begun to clean. They were careful not to disturb Douglas and Cynthia, and just cleaned around them.

Next Chapter

Okay. Forget it. I’m just going to do it. You’re getting the first five chapters. I just feel one chapter isn’t enough.

 

Chapter 2

Lunch & Dinner

 

SATURDAY, JANUARY 18, 2003

WEST HOLLYWOOD, CA 12:16 P.M.

The sun beat down on the outdoor dining area of The Garden, a chic West Hollywood cafe, but no one seemed to mind. It was a rather cool day and everyone had sunglasses on anyway. Bill Kaslow, a fat yet vibrant looking man, was sitting at a small table with two chairs. He was wearing a large Hawaiian shirt and Beige knee-length cargo shorts with sandals. He was there waiting for Jason to arrive for their weekly meeting. He kept impatiently checking his watch. He checked his cell phone to make sure he hadn’t missed any calls. He hadn’t.

Just as he was about to reconcile to the fact he’d been stood up, he saw Jason running up the street.

“About damn time! I’ve been sitting here for a half hour!” He exclaimed as he stood.

“Sorry, Bill. I was a little…busy, this morning.” Jason offered. Bill sat back down and motioned for Jason to take his seat.

“I don’t know why you have to be late every weekend. We always have lunch here, always at the same time. You’d think you could just plan your hangovers better.”

Bill was quite a bit older than Jason and very set in his ways. He was an independent film producer who had taken a liking to Jason’s writing style. He was employing Jason on a part-time basis despite the fact he could not offer to pay him anything and was instead offering connections in the industry.

Jason gave Bill a quick scan but resisted the temptation to slam his wardrobe choices. The whole tourist refugee look was a fashion theme Jason rather abhorred but he kept quiet, since Bill was usually good enough to pay for the meal.

“Cynthia made me a few drinks last night.”

“You didn’t go out?”

“No. I didn’t even get home until eleven. It was nice actually. Just nice to lie down and sleep. No pressure.”

“You got drunk with your neighbor.”

“Either way, a refreshing change.”

Bill handed Jason a menu.

“Please choose quickly. I don’t have a lot of time today.”

“Geez, why don’t we just call off lunch then, if you’re in such a hurry?” Jason threw the menu down on the table. Bill looked at Jason with a remorseful expression.

“I’m sorry. I really am. It’s just been one of those weeks. I’ve just finished going over a ton of scripts and I’m trying to line up the next movie to shoot. I’m dealing with so many assholes; I think it’s rubbing off on me.” Jason slowly picked the menu back up.

“Starting a new production?”

“Yes. I’m really excited about this one. It’s my first attempt at high drama.”

“Really? What’s the story?”

“Oh, you know. The usual dramatic stuff. Sisters, Cancer. Dying. Crap like that.”

“Sounds like a real personal project.”

“Well, you know, I gotta start doing something to get into those festivals. Right now I’m a joke. Too many schlocky horror flicks. I need to tap into the Oscar crowd. It all bores me to tears, but we’re talkin’ money.” He said while rubbing his fingers together in the universal sign of money.

A young European looking waiter walked up to the table. He was dressed casual, same as the rest of the staff. He had very short cut offs, showing every line and sinew of his muscular legs and a black tank top doing the same service for his equally beautiful torso. His dark hair framed his head perfectly. He had gentle, soft features and full lips that just begged to be bit. Jason’s breathing sped up and he started to sweat. The waiter’s mouth opened and a deep, thick, commanding voice that betrayed his youthful appearance echoed out.

“Can I get you started with a drink or are you ready?” He asked. Jason was so mesmerized he didn’t realize he was the one the waiter was talking to. Bill came to the rescue.

“He’ll have the turkey salad, and I’ll have the French dip, please.” The waiter took his pen and scribbled down Bill’s instructions.

“Very good.” The waiter said. Jason could only focus on all the muscles in his arm moving, flexing with every pen stroke. The waiter left them with a cheery smile and went back inside. Bill started snapping his fingers in front of Jason’s face.

“Hello? Earth to Jason! Come back!” Bill said, trying to coax Jason back to the land of the living.

“Huh?”

“You zoned.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. He was hot. I’m not gay, and I was kind of attracted myself.”

“I hate guys like that. Perfect body, perfect face. It’s not fair! No one person should be allowed to be that good looking. You have to either have a perfect body or face. It’s not fair when they get both. Probably has a big dick too.”

“Life isn’t fair. Don’t get so worked up.”

“I can’t help it. You’re straight, so you don’t care, but for a gay man, attraction is a little more complex. At once, I’m attracted to him and I want to have sex with him and at the same time, I’m jealous of how good he looks and I want to be him. I’d like a body like that. I work out. What’s wrong with me?”

“Apparently more than I thought before I ever met you. Don’t compare yourself, man. Whatever he’s got, he’s got. I bet there are things about you he’d be jealous of.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m sure he’d be real jealous of my big throbbing….brain. And don’t even start with that inner beauty crap. I wouldn’t mind a little more outer beauty.”

“What you need is to get laid. I thought you were about to jump him when he turned away,” Jason looked down avoiding eye contact. “How long has it been since your last…encounter?”

“A while.”

“Define a while for me. A month?” Jason shook his head. “Two months?” Jason shook his head again. “Three months? Good lord!”

“Not three months. Multiply that by four.” Jason confessed. Bill sat stunned. His mouth held open so long, his cigarette fell out.

“A year? A fuckin’ year!? You haven’t had sex in a year!?” Jason turned his head away, noticing a few heads turning in their direction.

“Jesus, Bill! Keep it down! A little discretion?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Bill calmed himself and lit a new cigarette. “Damn, Jason. How can you still be alive? I’d die if I went that long without a milking.” Jason closed his eyes, trying to banish that visual from his mind.

“I’m fine. I have plenty of lube and porn to keep me from hitting critical. Besides, I got a nibble on the personal ad I put on line.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. How pathetic is my life that an email from a total stranger qualifies as an event?”

“I’ll be praying for you. I mean that.”

“Thanks.” Just then, the hunky waiter returned with their food. He carried both dishes on a large tray, perfectly displaying his flexed pecs. Bill looked over and saw Jason having another attack. He came back to normal once the food was served.

Conversation over the meal was light. After the meal, Jason and Bill both sat back, soaking up the sun, listening to the new wave music playing on the cafe speakers and whatever pieces of conversation they could make out from the other tables. A new waiter, one not nearly as gorgeous as the first one, came and set down the check. As usual, Bill sprung up and pounced on it.

“I got it,” He said. They both got up and walked to the cashier. “Hey, Jay, why don’t you just go wait for me out front okay?”

Jason didn’t understand this odd request but he just nodded and walked out ahead of Bill. He stood out on the sidewalk for a good ten minutes before the hunky waiter came out and walked right up to Jason, looked him in the eyes, and planted the biggest, wettest kiss Jason had ever felt. Jason had enough presence of thought to feel the waiter’s body. He cupped his ass and ran his hands all over his body as fast as he could. The waiter broke away and smiled at Jason with a devilish smirk and then handed him a small piece of paper. He walked away without a word. Bill came stomping out shortly with a big grin on his round, sun burned face. They both started walking down the street.

“You’re welcome,” Jason looked over at Bill, puzzled. “The waiter. I sent him out there. I told him about you and he agreed to do me that little favor.”

“A favor? He only did that because you asked him to?!”

“Relax, buddy. It still felt good didn’t it?” Jason stopped for a moment.

“Yeah. It did feel good. It would have felt better if he had done it because he wanted to. You pay him?”

“Five bucks. It was a favor, besides, I felt bad. I had just screwed him on his tip.” Jason dug out the paper that was given to him and handed it to Bill.

“This must be the receipt then.” Bill took the paper and looked at it. He handed it back to Jason.

“I really think this one is for you.” Jason took it and looked at it. It was a phone number with the word ‘dinner’ written under it.

“You told him to do this right?” Bill silently shook his head. Jason smiled and almost squealed in glee. He knew Bill long enough to know when he didn’t say anything, he was telling the truth.