Second Chance

Second Chance Chapter 3 - Dinner With Juilo

Shortly after I got home that night, Susan called.

"What did you do to Julio?" She demanded.

"What do you mean?" I asked, searching my memory, worried that I'd said something inappropriate.

"He called me, and he couldn't stop talking about you. `He's so mature! He's so kind! I want to be just like him!'" she imitated Julio in a mocking voice.

"Well, I'm glad someone realizes how great I am!" I joked.

"Hmm," she huffed. "It's like you bewitched him. He's not usually a very talkative sort."

"Well, you asked me to meet with him."

"Yes, thank you for that."

"I'm not sure my advice was any good, but I tried."

"He seemed reassured," she said. "And he also seemed quite taken with you."

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know. It's just ... It's like he has a crush."

I laughed out loud. "Oh yes, grandfathers like me are definitely crush-worthy."

"ANYway, thanks for meeting him, Uncle Judah."

"It was my pleasure, Susan."

Shortly after I hung up with Susan, as I was about to start heating up my dinner, my phone pinged. It was a text from Julio.

• Thanks so much for meeting with me today.

• I was happy to.

• I don't mean to impose, but could we possibly meet again? - We didn't actually talk about the job very much. And I have some questions for you.

• I suppose we could.

• Maybe for dinner?

• Sure. We could have dinner sometime.

• Could you meet tomorrow? Or Thursday? I'd love to talk before I start the job.

I was a little taken aback, but honestly, it's not like my schedule was that busy in the evenings. And I had enjoyed our lunch. Julio was good company, and it was kind of a nice distraction to talk with someone so young and enthusiastic. So, I texted back.

• I guess we could have dinner tomorrow.

With my friend Tom coming into town from New York on Thursday, I could not meet Julio then, so Wednesday was the only option.

• Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

I found out that Julio was living not too far away, down in Boystown, close to where Pablo had lived all those years ago when I met him. So I suggested Drew's on Halstead, which was a long-time bar and restaurant that served a mostly gay clientele. We agreed to meet there at 7 p.m.

As I sat down to eat the leftover cioppino that I'd heated up for dinner, I found that I couldn't focus on the newspaper that I was trying to read. What exactly was it that Julio wanted? What did Susan mean when she said that he was "taken" with me? I was worried that I'd somehow been inappropriate with Julio and that now he would think I was some kind of dirty old man. But I couldn't think of any way that I'd led him on. And it seemed almost like he was flirting with me. Flirting? Stop making a fool of yourself old man, I told myself. He's 31 and you're more than twice his age.

I was too distracted to read, so I decided to watch TV. I'd never finished the third season of The Bear, so I turned to Hulu and allowed an episode of the show to take my mind off of life. I went to bed afterward and slept soundly.

Wednesday was my day to meet my friend Karen for lunch. Occasionally we had to cancel when one or the other of us had a court date or an important client meeting. But we got together at least two or three times a month,    since on weeks where we didn't meet for lunch, we usually had dinner. These lunches and dinners were a chance for us to catch up but also to sample all of Chicago's cuisines -- at least anything that we could get to from the Loop within a reasonable amount of time to fit into a lunch hour. We almost never ate at the same restaurant twice.

This week, we were meeting at a modest Thai place just west of downtown. Karen tended to be running perpetually late, so I almost always arrived first and got us a table. I didn't mind, since it gave me time to look over the menu and maybe answer some emails on my phone. This day, though, I was just sitting down when Karen came bustling in. She was wearing a dark blue, almost black, blazer and slacks, and a white blouse, with an open collar. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun. She looked a bit severe, like someone you wouldn't want to mess with.

"Well, this place is a dump!" she said, but for her that was a good thing. She had a theory that there was an inverse relationship between a restaurant's decor and the quality of its food. The tackier the decor, she believed, the better the food. I wasn't fully convinced, since there were some very fancy restaurants that I quite liked. But I did agree that some of the best food we'd eaten was found at holes-in-the-wall. Especially some of the ethnic restaurants that immigrants had opened -- Salvadoran, Thai, Nigerian. Karen always talked about starting a restaurant blog to help expose the hidden food gems across Chicago, but it never advanced beyond an idea we talked about from time to time.

For lunch this day, I ordered pad thai, my standard at Thai restaurants, while Karen ordered a green curry.

"So are you ready for your big party?" she asked me.

"Are YOU ready?" I asked in reply. "I don't have to do anything. I just have to show up!"

"Yes, it's ready. It's not like I'm cooking or pouring drinks. I just have to hand over my credit card and let other people do the work."

We chatted for a while about who was coming to the party, about what to do while Tom was in town, about work. Mostly Karen talked and listened, although not as attentively as usual.

"You seem rather distracted," she observed.

"It's nothing," I said.

"Really? What's going on? Everything okay" she probed.

I sighed. "It's silly, really," I said, and then I told her about my meeting with Julio yesterday and about our plans for dinner tonight.

"I'm not sure what he wants," I concluded, "But my God is he hot!"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, I think I know what he wants," she said suggestively.

"Please!" I said. "He's half my age. And gorgeous!"

"Well, maybe he has a thing for daddies." She gave me an appraising once over. "And you are still an extremely attractive man."

It was my turn to roll my eyes. "I doubt that very much. I think I'm just a dirty old man who's flattered that a hot young guy is giving me the time of day."

"Perhaps," she said. "But heaven knows, it's time for you to get back out there. It's been years, Judah."

"I ..." I just shook my head and couldn't think of anything to say.

"Just ... open yourself up for possibilities."

"Seriously, Karen, I'm just not interested in anything with anyone. You know that ..."

"I'm not talking about anyone. I'm talking about a hot young Brazilian guy who might have the hots for you,"

I put up my hands in protest. "Okay! Time to change the subject!!"

We talked for a bit longer as we finished up our meal, then paid and left. We hugged and kissed goodbye at the door as our rides arrived.

"Have fun on your date tonight," she said as she got in her car.

"It's not a date!" I insisted. "It's just dinner!"

As I was riding my Uber back to the office, though, I did think about what Karen had said. It was not the first time that she'd told me to "get back out there." But I had honestly just not had the inclination before. Tom had been pushing the same thing for ages, but I just wasn't ready. For some reason, though, my lunch with Julio yesterday had awakened something in me. I was sure that I was misreading his flirtatiousness, but it still was nice to have someone seem to show interest in me, even if I was mostly imagining it. Maybe my two best friends were right and I should begin to open myself up to ... well, something.

When I got home that evening, I showered, and then I fretted over what I should wear to go out. It was technically a business meeting, but we were going to a gay restaurant in the gayborhood. I wanted to look attractive but I knew that at my age, it was easy to go a little too far and look ridiculous. I decided on a pair of dark blue jeans that stretched nicely over my ass and a long-sleeved polo shirt that was form fitting and highlighted my chest and flat belly. I looked at myself in the mirror and thought I looked pretty good but not like I was trying too hard.

I caught an Uber down to Lakeview and got to the restaurant just a bit before 7. As before, Julio was there before me, but this time, he was waiting just outside the front door rather than at the table. When he saw me, he smiled broadly and pulled me in for a hug.

"Thank you so much for coming! I know I'm asking so much of your time..." he said.

"I don't mind," I said. I was thinking to myself, what else would I be doing as an old widower besides sitting at home reading a book or watching TV?

We went inside, and I gave the front desk my name for the reservation to the host. We had to stand to the side while they finished clearing our table, so I had an opportunity to look around the restaurant. It was a smallish place, not so different from the bistro we'd eaten at the day before, with white table cloths and a tin ceiling. I hadn't been here in years, but I saw that the clientele was still mostly gay men, couples and groups, sometimes with a straight couple of friends. As I turned to Julio, I saw that he was not looking at the restaurant but at me. As our eyes met, he smiled.

"Nice place," he said.

"I hope you don't mind a gay restaurant," I apologized. "But I figured we could talk more freely..."

"I don't mind at all," he replied. I loved how his voice had just a touch of an accent. It made my stomach jump just a little, and then I reprimanded myself for thinking about Julio like that.

The host walked us to our table and handed us menus.

"Enjoy," he said.

We were seated at a small bistro table with chairs opposite one another. We sat down and looked through the menu. I decided on a burger, and Julio said that he was going to have a pasta dish.

"So, tell me about this job," I started.

"It's with a biotech company that has its headquarters here, AnguFam. I'm going to work on patents and intellectual property rights and such."

He described the work to me for a bit, but he didn't have that much to say, since he hadn't done the job yet. The company was involved in pharmaceuticals, medical devices, and chemicals. After just a few minutes speaking about    his job, he fell silent.

"Julio," I said. "You didn't really ask me out to dinner to talk about your job did you?"

"Why do you say that?" he asked. I just raised my eyebrows in response. "Well, I suppose not really. I just... I just wanted to talk with you more."

He paused, then he continued. "To be honest, I've been lonely. I've been all about school for years and then finding a job and then getting ready to move. And yesterday, talking with you ... Well, I felt like I was talking to a friend."

I couldn't help but smile. "I'd be happy to be your friend, Julio. If you don't mind having a cranky old guy like me as a friend."

"You're only a little cranky," he joked.

I was pleased and sort of relieved to learn that Julio was looking for friendship. That explained the signals he'd been sending me. He was lonely and wanted a friend, and I was happy to be that for him. If I was being honest with myself, I would have to admit that I was a little disappointed to learn that he didn't want something more. But I had to laugh at myself for imagining as I had that there was a spark. I enjoyed his company, and I could always use another friend, so I was fine with it.

We spent the evening getting to know one another. We both ordered cocktails as an aperitif, then split a bottle of wine with the meal, and the alcohol helped the conversation flow freely. Julio asked about my work and my family. Then he asked me about Pablo, and it was oddly liberating to talk about him, to describe in brief the man that I had loved for so long and to talk about our lives together. I told him about Pablo's work and his stunning looks, and I tried to explain his personality a bit.

"He was very principled, but he also had a fantastic sense of humor," I said.

"You glow while you talk about him," he said. "I'm jealous of you. I'd love to have what you and Pablo had."

"It's certainly not too late for you," I told him. "I was actually about your age when I met Pablo."

I asked Julio to tell me more about himself, so he started with his family. He had been very close to his mother, but she had died of cancer when he was in high school. His father was very religious and very strict. His father was a businessman who was not particularly wealthy but gave his family a solid existence. He was always disappointed in Julio for not being more interested in sports and not being more manly. He didn't even seem proud when Pablo got his scholarship to a prestigious American university. Julio explained that his brothers were ten and twelve years older than him, and he wasn't very close to them. One of his brothers had gone into business with his father, the other had started his own company. Julio's sisters were closer in age to him, just five and two years older. All but one was married, so he had several nieces and nephews. He told me that he had one sister who had gotten pregnant outside of marriage, who was now raising a young daughter. She was the black sheep of the family and had been forced out of the house to live with a cousin. Their father still supported her, but he made clear that he was ashamed of her and kept her away from the rest of his children and grandchildren.

"I can't imagine coming out to my father," Julio said. "He would disown me."

We ate our dinner slowly and then ordered dessert and then a round of after dinner drinks as our conversation continued. My cheeks were feeling a little warm, but since I was taking an Uber home rather than driving, I figured that it was okay.

"You're so easy to talk to," Julio said. "So much of this I haven't told anyone."

"Well," I said, "I don't know when I've had a more pleasant evening."

"Me too," he said and smiled. He had the most beautiful smile, exposing a mouthful of bright white teeth and a joy that spread across his whole face.

When the bill came, I reached for my wallet, but Julio stopped me.

"I asked you out. I should pay," he said as he pulled a credit card out of his wallet.

"I'm sure you have plenty of expenses with the move and all," I protested. "We had a lot of drinks, so it's not cheap!"

"It's okay. I get a moving allowance from my company. It's my treat," he said and put the card on the little plastic tray with the bill.

"Thank you. It's been my treat too," I said.

We fell silent as we looked into each other's eyes, and for a moment, I got the same flutter in my stomach that I'd felt at lunch yesterday and when I first saw him tonight. I reprimanded myself for misreading his intentions again. But on the other hand, I couldn't feel bad for taking pleasure from the company of such a handsome and intriguing young man. It was an honor to be his friend, and I was happy with just that.

We walked out of the restaurant. The evening had gotten a little bit chilly, but it was still pleasant. I wished I'd brought a jacket.

"Walk with me a bit," he said, "I don't live far from here."

We walked up North Halstead a few blocks to Cornelia Street. Halstead was lively with people, mostly gay men. We passed a drag queen who was making a scene shouting drunkenly at her friends. There was a line outside the bar on the corner of Cornelia and Halstead. This was where Pablo and I had gone on our first date. It had changed names several times since then, and looked somewhat different, but it was still a gay club.

"I live up this way," he said, nodding with his head up Cornelia Street.

"Okay, I guess I should call an Uber," I said.

"Oh. Okay. I guess, yes." He seemed disappointed. Did he want me to come back to his apartment? Again, I'm sure that I was misreading him. I pulled up the app and found a car just two blocks away.

"The car's almost here," I said.

He pulled me in for a hug. "Thank you for listening to me," he said. He was taller than me so had to bend down a bit, but he held me tightly, pulling my body against his. I looked up at him, and as we pulled apart, he leaned to me and gave me a quick kiss on my lips. He stepped back and smiled.

"Thank you," he said.

I was stunned. Confused. Then the car pulled up and I climbed in as he watched.

"Good night," he said.

"Good night," I said and shut the door. He watched as the car pulled away.

My mind raced with questions. What had the kiss meant? Did Julio mean anything by it? Do Brazilians kiss their friends on the lips? Was that normal?

By the time the car arrived at my apartment, I had convinced myself that once again I was misreading signals. Julio made it clear that he wanted me as a friend, and the kiss was just a friendly gesture, nothing more. Gay men kiss each other. It isn't significant. It wasn't like he tried to slip his tongue in my mouth. It was just a kiss goodbye.

But as I lay in bed, drifting off to sleep, I felt something stir inside that I had not felt for a long time.

Maybe, just maybe, I thought...

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Apologies if you're looking for something more salacious. I promise that there WILL be sex in some of the upcoming chapters. But this is more a story of romance than just sex. Hope you enjoy.

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