Second Chance

Second Chance Chapter 8 - A First Date

When I got back home from lunch with Julio, I looked at my phone for the first time in a couple of hours. There were a number of messages, mostly birthday greetings, a few from people who were at the party the night before, a few from other friends. I saw that my brother, Nathan, had called. He lived in Arizona, where he had retired a couple of years ago after decades of living in California.

There was also a text message from Tom.

• Well? was all it said.

I saw that he had sent it over an hour ago, and I realized for the first time that it was already 1:30. I figured that Tom was already on his plane or about to board. I just sent him a smiley face emoji.

• What does that mean? he replied immediately.

• Call me when you get home, I responded.

• WHAT???

• I CAN'T WAIT

My phone rang, and I answered it.

"What happened? Don't leave me hanging!" Tom cried.

"We went to lunch. We had a good conversation."

"And?"

"And we're going to go on a date next weekend," I said.

"Hallelujah!" he said. "Okay, I'm boarding now, but I'll call you when I land, because I want details." Then he whispered. "Wait, is he there now?"

"No," I said. "He is not here now. He went home after lunch."

"Okay," he said, sounding rushed. "I have to go. I'll call later."

My brother, Nathan, had left a message, so I listened to it.

"Hey, little brother, happy birthday! Do you know how old it makes me feel for you to turn 65? Call me!"

I called him back, but it went to voicemail, so I left a message. "Hey Nathan. Just calling you back," I said. "Thanks for the birthday greetings."

My brother was only three years older than me, but we had never been terribly close. He had studied accounting in school and then worked in the corporate world and become quite conservative. He had moved out to Orange Country, California, for work and was big into watching football and playing golf and other things about which I had no interest whatsoever. He had been married and divorced twice and had one kid, a boy, my nephew Leo, who was now in his 40s and with whom he seemed to have only limited contact. When I came out to my family, Nathan was already living out in California. He never really rejected me, but he also always seemed uncomfortable. I had been close with sister, Elizabeth, who was a couple of years younger than me, since childhood. She had welcomed Pablo into the family, and even my parents came to accept us as a couple, but Nathan never really showed any interest in Pablo. Then again, he didn't show interest in much about my life, in the same way that I wasn't interested in football or golf. Nathan and I talked on holidays, but our conversations were short, and often a couple of years would go by without seeing one another in person.

I sat on the couch and responded to a couple of the texts. I replied thank you to the birthday wishes. One friend, Dawn, someone who had worked for a while as a lawyer in Chicago before moving to Dallas, asked how the party had gone, so I wrote that there had been a big crowd and it was a lot of fun. A colleague from work sent regrets that he'd missed it but had been feeling under the weather. I wrote him that it was not a big deal but he missed a fun time.

Next, I took a pile of mail off of the small wooden table near the front door of my apartment, grabbed the letter opener out of a drawer, and sat at the dining room table. These were the cards that I had set aside to open on my actual birthday. For some reason, the ritual seemed important to me. I wasn't expecting any gifts that I would open, but at least I could open birthday cards. There was one from my sister and another from my brother, and another from a cousin in Wisconsin. Karen had sent one, and a friend from law school who worked in New York. I opened each of the cards and then took them all and placed them on the mantlepiece over the fireplace, arranging them on either side of the vase of flowers.

I stepped back to check them out. Looking at the cards and thinking about the party the night before, I felt fortunate to have a strong community of friends and family. And now, this possibility with Julio. Things were good.

I sat on the couch and turned on the TV. I did not watch a lot of television, but I found it relaxing from time to time. I had never finished watching the third season of The Bear, so I pulled up Hulu and watched an episode.

Just as the second episode I was watching came to an end, my phone rang.

"Hello Tom. I take it you didn't crash?"

"I'm in the car heading back from La Guardia," Tom said. "So, dish! What happened with Julio?"

"We had a great talk. He was embarrassed about his behavior and worried that I was not attracted to him," I told him.

"Which you are, of course," he broke in.

"Well, yes, I told him that. But I also told him that I wasn't ready to jump right into anything. Tom, I haven't been on a date in more than three decades."

"Whatever," he said dismissively.

"So we agreed to meet for a date next weekend. And then we just talked. For a couple of hours." I couldn't help but smile as I thought about it. "It was great, actually."

"What did you talk about?" he asked.

"Anything and everything," I said. "For one thing, I talked a bunch about Pablo."

"Well, that's a little awkward, isn't it?" he asked.

"No," I said. "Julio wanted to know about Pablo, and it was actually great to talk about him. I mean, if you want to understand me, he's a major part of my life. I can't talk about the past 30 years without talking about Pablo"

"Oh!" Tom said suddenly, "Before I forget, go in the guest room. There's a package on the dresser."

I walked into the guest room. On the dresser, there was a beautifully wrapped package. I pressed the speaker function on my phone and set it down.

"I'm putting you on speakerphone, Tom." I picked up the present and found it to be surprisingly heavy. I pulled the ribbon off and then carefully tried to split the tape at the seams on the back. The paper seemed too lovely to just rip open. It took me a moment, but I was able to peel the back open and then slide the box out. The box said Simon Pearce. I opened it to find a gorgeous large glass vase inside.

"Oh Tom, it's beautiful!" I picked it up and admired how it reflected the light. It was a simple, sort of oblong shape, in clear glass. "Thank you," I said.

"I figured that it's the kind of thing you'd like," he said.

"Of course I like it," I assured him. "It's lovely. How did you even carry it here?"

"It fit in my carryon. It just made it very heavy."

"Well, I love it. Thank you so much," I said.

"Okay," he said. "We're getting into Manhattan. I'll talk with you later in the week. Happy birthday, old friend."

"Thanks," I said. "And thanks again for coming out to celebrate."

"My pleasure," he said, and hung up.

I took the vase into the kitchen and filled it with water. Then I went to the living room and picked up the vase of flowers off of the mantlepiece and carried them to the kitchen. The vase that I had used was nothing special, just the cheap glass kind that comes with flowers from a florist. On the kitchen counter, I transferred the flowers into the new vase and then placed it back on the mantlepiece. It looked spectacular.

I stayed at home the rest of the day. My brother and I connected over the phone and chatted for a while. My nephew, Ezra, Susan's younger brother, called from DC to wish me a happy birthday. Karen called as well, so I was able to thank her once again for the party. I watched two more episodes of The Bear and decided that this season wasn't as great as the previous two, but that it was still a good show. I had a light dinner and then went to bed early, feeling quite content with my life.

The week went by quickly and uneventfully. I got back to my regular early morning schedule of running Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings, and going to the gym on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I went into the office each day for work. I had a few client meetings, and on Thursday morning, I had an immigration hearing at the Immigration Court, that was right downtown not far from the Art Institute. Karen and I skipped lunch this week, since we were both pretty busy, so I just ate lunch each day in the office.

The highlight of the week was communicating with Julio each day. As I was riding the L to work on Monday morning, I sent a text to him:

• Good luck starting the new job.

• I'm on my way now - a little nervous

• You'll do great.

• Thanks

That evening, he texted me first.

• First day was good - Thanks for hanging out yesterday - Where should I take you for dinner Friday?

• You took me last time. - I should take you, I responded.

We went back and forth a bit, until he agreed to let me take him out on Friday if he could take me out on Saturday.

• Was that our first fight? he wrote with a winking emoji.

We texted each night that week. On Wednesday, after a couple of texts, he called me.

"Hey," he said when I answered.

"Hi," I said.

"I just wanted to hear your voice."

"That's sweet," I said.

"I'm really looking forward to seeing you on Friday."

"Me, too," I replied.

We chatted for about twenty minutes about nothing in particular. He asked me about my day, and I asked him about his. He told me that so far his work hours were not unreasonable. I told him about my immigration hearing the next day. It was nice to talk with him, very comfortable.

"Okay," he finally said. "See you day after tomorrow."

"I'm looking forward to it," I told him, and then we hung up.

On Thursday morning, my immigration hearing went well. A man from Venezuela who had his wife and daughter with him here in the US was claiming asylum, and the judge bought his case. We didn't even have to call the expert witness I had on reserve. After just ten minutes, the immigration judge issued a positive credible fear determination and granted his request for asylum. Outside the courtroom, the man shook my hand vigorously, while his wife, holding her young daughter on her hip, hugged me while crying. These were the kinds of events that made my job worth it.

Julio and I texted a little Thursday afternoon, then we talked on the phone again that night.

On Friday evening, I put on an outfit that I thought was flattering -- tan slacks and a light cotton sweater in gray, with a casual jacket on top, since the weather had turned a little cool. I took the L two stops from Wilson down to Addison and walked to Julio's apartment on Cornelia. I texted that I was downstairs, and he came down to meet me. He looked stunning. He had on tight-fitting black jeans with a plaid button-down shirt that hugged his body. The outfit highlighted his slender build, and he somehow looked both casual and elegant. It looked as though he'd just gotten his hair cut, with more of a fade on the sides than before and sharp edges.

He gave me a quick hug and then a kiss on the cheek. I ordered an Uber that arrived in just five minutes, and then we headed off for the Loop. I was taking him to see Inherit the Wind, which was on stage at the Goodman, one of Chicago's top theater companies. It is a classic play about the Scopes Monkey Trial, and the famous clash between William Jennings Bryan and Clarence Darrow. Julio had told me that he had not gone to much theater, despite living in New York for nearly a decade, so I thought that this was the perfect play to introduce a young lawyer to.

The Uber let us off in front, and we walked into the lobby. I had the tickets on my phone, so we scanned them and went inside. The ticket checker handed us each a small sheet of paper with some basic information about the show and a QR code to pull up the program information.

"Do you want a drink before we go in?" I asked as we passed by the concession stand.

"I'm fine," he said. "You've seen me drink enough."

I laughed.

"I don't think a glass of wine would make you misbehave," I said, "but we can get one at intermission if you prefer."

As we passed through the lobby, I noticed how the eyes of so many people followed Julio. As a tall, elegant, strikingly handsome man who seemed rather oblivious to his magnetism, he drew people's attention. I felt privileged to be at his side. I had only bought the tickets on Tuesday, when we had decided what we were doing, so they were a bit further back and to the side than I preferred, but they were still decent seats. We scooted past a couple of people on our aisle and took our seats. I showed Julio that he could scan the code on his phone and look up a few articles about the history of the show and such, but he said that he preferred to go in knowing nothing.

"It will all be a surprise!" he said.

The rest of the crowd took their seats and the theater went dark. I looked over at Julio whose face was shining with anticipation. The lights came up on two actors playing high school students as the action began. The play is the story of a school teacher who is on trial for teaching evolution to his students and the conflict between two prominent lawyers who come to town to participate in the trial, one for the prosecution and one for the defense. It is based loosely on the Scopes Monkey Trial, though it fictionalizes quite a bit and one of the authors later said that really it was a response to McCarthyism. Like all of the productions at the Goodman, the cast was very strong. It was a particularly large cast, because it included not only the principal characters, including the accused, the lawyers, the judge, and various other individuals, but both a jury and a courtroom audience.

I enjoyed watching Julio as he watched the show. He was leaning slightly forward in his chair, and he seemed quite taken by the story.

During the intermission, we went out into the lobby, just to stretch our legs. He asked me if the story was true, and I told him that it was a fictionalized account of a real trial. He was unfamiliar with this famous trial, which after all had taken place in the 1920s, and I had to admit that I could not actually remember what aspects of the story were true and which were fictionalized.

"I know they changed all of the characters' names. Drummond is based on Clarence Darrow and Brady is based on William Jennings Bryan. And the newspaperman is based on some famous journalist. I can't remember who."

I knew, based on something I'd read, that the Goodman had tried to update the performance in some ways to make it resonate with the current censorious atmosphere in which teachers were being restricted in what they could say about race and gender and sexuality, but I couldn't remember the details of their adaptation. Maybe it was just because of that context that they had decided to stage the show.

We went back for the conclusion of the play and the dramatic confrontation at the end, with Brady collapsing and dying after he wins the case but loses the public's support. The audience rose to their feet as soon as the lights went out and the cast came back on for their bows. Julio clapped enthusiastically.

"That was great!" he said effusively as we walked out. "Such a good story."

We walked across the street to the Dearborn, where I had made reservations for a late dinner. We were slightly late, since the show was long, and it had taken us a while to exit the theater, but we had no trouble being seated.

"Let's order cocktails," I suggested.

"Well, I'm planning to stay sober this time for you," he replied smiling shyly.

"You don't have to stay too sober," I joked. "Just don't throw up again. I don't have Tom here this time to help get you home safely."

I ordered a martini with Hendricks Gin and a cucumber garnish. Julio ordered something called a Rainbow Drop Martini off of the cocktail menu with some kind of infused vodka and a bunch of other complicated ingredients.

We talked about the show, which of the actors we thought were strongest, what the point of the story was. When our drinks arrived, I raised my glass and proposed a toast.

"To first dates," I said.

"To first dates," Julio replied and cautiously tapped my glass with his, as both were filled to the brim. We sipped our drinks and smiled.

We looked over our menus. I chose the ribeye, which I knew would be too much food for me, but I figured that I could take half home for a meal during the week. Julio decided on the duck breast, since he said he had never had duck.

The conversation flowed easily. He told me more details about his first week on the job. He described a few of the people he'd met and what the office was like. Since so many of the office workers like him worked at home now, they had an open office with a flexible configuration. Of course, the scientists generally had to come into their labs daily. He explained that their building was divided between office space on a couple of floors and lab space on several others. He said that he would be in the office for the first couple of weeks but would be able to work from home for a couple of days a week after that.

I commented that it looked like he'd gotten his hair cut, and he said that he had asked one of the executives who was a younger Black guy who looked quite sharp for advice, and he'd suggested a Black barber not too far away from the office.

"I went right after work," he explained. "I wanted to look good."

"You DO look good," I said.

After they clear away our plates and brought me a box with my leftovers, we decided to split a slice of cake. Julio ordered an espresso, but I declined.

"If I have coffee now, I won't sleep tonight," I said.

"It doesn't affect me that way," Julio said. "We drink a lot of espresso in Brazil."

I asked him about Brazil, and he told me about his home in Bahia, where African culture was celebrated.

"Salvador is the home of Candomble, which is like Brazilian voodoo. People make altars to the saints. It's a mix of African religion and Catholicism." He paused and sighed. "But of course, my family is Evangelicals, so they denounce it all as devil worship."

By the time we finished our dessert, it was quite late. I ordered an Uber to his house, thinking that I would drop him off then get another Uber home, but on the way there, Julio insisted that I come stay at his place.

"It's too late for you to go home. Just come up and we can lay together like we did the other night. No hanky panky, I promise."

I knew that I should say no, that I should end our evening and just go home, because if I went back with him, I would probably not be able to resist having sex with him, and it was too soon for that. But I also really wanted to be with Julio. I was feeling something that I hadn't felt in a very long time -- desire, perhaps? But more than that, a connection, a comfort with someone.

"We can just sleep," he said, and it struck me that these were the exact words that Pablo had used the first night that I'd gone back to his apartment in the same neighborhood. And of course, with Pablo we had hardly slept at all that first night together but had explored each others' bodies all night long. Even so, I agreed to go back to his place, listening to my heart and not my head. If we did fool around, would it be so terrible?

We got out of the Uber, and I followed him into his building. It was in a blond-brick building in a neighborhood much like the one that I lived in. It was a quiet residential street, though I knew we were only two blocks from Wrigley Field, so I imagined that there were times when it was crowded and loud. He opened the door and led me up the stairs to the third floor. None of these early twentieth century Chicago apartments had elevators.

He opened the door and flicked on the light, and I followed him in and closed the door behind me.

"Here we go! My humble abode," he said and waved his arm with a flourish across the room.

The place was indeed humble at the moment. There was one large living room-dining room with three doors, one apparently leading to the kitchen, one to the bedroom, and the bathroom between. There was a couch and a chair in the room, and a couple of boxes, but nothing else. Nothing was on the walls yet.

"I didn't bring much from New York. I've only got the essentials so far. I didn't move any furniture, but I when I got here, I ordered a couch and an armchair and a bed. Everything else I'll get later."

"It's a good space," I assured him. "You'll fill it out soon enough."

"That's the plan," he said.

We stood there for a moment and looked around the room. Then we looked at one another, and I felt a fluttering in my stomach. Julio looked nervous, but he took one step closer to me, close enough that we could touch. I leaned forward a bit and our mouths came together, and we kissed. It was just a brief peck on the lips at first, but then I put my hand behind his head to pull him to me, and our lips met. He opened his mouth, and my tongue touched his tongue. He had to turn his head slightly down, since he was a couple of inches taller than me. His arms wrapped around my back, and he pulled his body against me. Our kiss was passionate and full of deep craving, like we both needed to taste the other. I could feel his hardness pressing up against my body. I needed to feel him, so I reached down and put my hand on his hard cock through the fabric of his jeans. I could tell that he was large. He moaned into my mouth.

But then he broke off the kiss and stepped back.

"I promised you, no hanky panky, and I'm a man of my word," he said. He smiled at me, his eyes positively beaming. "We will take things slowly. Tonight, we will just sleep together, not have sex."

He took my hand and led me toward the bedroom. "I would love to have sex with you," he said. "I would love to get you naked and kiss you all over and then slip myself gently inside you, but ..." He stopped and looked straight at me. "I have had plenty of sex, and we could do that, but that's not the only thing I want from you."

He sat on the edge of the bed and started to take off his shoes.

"I'm warning you that I'm planning to seduce you but not just for sex. I want you to fall in love with me. And when we do have sex, we will be making love, not just fucking."

I was dumbstruck for a moment, as he stood up and unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off, exposing his beautiful smooth body.

"Get undressed so we can lie in bed together and cuddle," he said.

I just watched him for a moment as he peeled off his tight jeans, exposing a pair of bright red Andrew Christian briefs. Then I sat down and untied my shoes and took them off. I took off my jacket and looked for a place to put it. He took it from me and went over to hang it in his closet. I saw that he had no furniture in the room other than his bed. There were a couple of suitcases and a large cardboard box. I started to lift off my sweater, and Julio reached over to help me pull it over my head. Then I just stood there as he lifted my T-shirt over my head. I unbuttoned my pants and slid them off.

"The bathroom's out here," he said. "I don't have an extra toothbrush, but at least there's toothpaste and mouthwash."

I followed him into the bathroom. He lifted the seat of the toilet, and I watched, enthralled, as he lowered the front of his briefs to pee. His cock was still at half mast, and it was indeed a sight to see. Uncut, thick, and long, a slightly darker shade of chocolate than his skin. He pulled back the foreskin and concentrated for a moment, and a strong stream issued, splashing loudly into the toilet. I realized that I was being a bit creepy -- though perhaps he wanted me to watch? -- so I turned to the sink and squeezed a little toothpaste on my finger then rubbed it around on my teeth. I took some water in a cup that was on the sink, rinsed, and spit. Then I took a swig of mouthwash, swirled it around my mouth, and spit it out.

Julio tucked his impressive cock back into his briefs, and I took my turn at the toilet, while he brushed his teeth. As I pulled out my cock and peed, I noticed that he was watching me just as I had watched him. I caught his eye, and he smiled flirtatiously.

We both finished and walked back to his room. He had a queen-sized bed. He pulled back the covers for me to climb in, then he went around the other side and climbed in. He immediately scooted over so that his body was pressed against mine. I was lying on my back, and he turned me onto my side and pulled me tight against him. HIs cock was against my ass, and I could feel him getting hard through the fabric of our briefs. I pressed my ass back against his manhood and shimmied it into my crack.

"No hanky panky,'" he said, but he didn't pull away. Instead he rubbed himself a few times up and down my crack and then pushed so that his cock was wedged solidly between my butt cheeks.

"Goodnight, Judah," he said.

"Goodnight, Julio," I replied.

I lay there enjoying the feeling of his body pressed against mine, not just his cock pressing against my ass, but his smooth chest against my back, his strong arms holding tight to my chest, his legs entwined with mine. It felt so good to have this kind of touch. I reached down and touched my cock, which was hard inside my briefs. I squeezed it a few times and imagined how nice it would be if Julio's cock were to slip inside me. The idea of his fucking me made my cock leak pre-cum.

A moment of doubt flashed across my mind. Am I just taking advantage of him because he's the first guy who's shown any interest in me? Am I just flattered by his attention? No, I told myself, he is definitely appealing. He's smart and handsome and ambitious and kind. His body feels good against mine not just because it's a warm body but because it's his body. He is being gentle with me and taking things slowly. It is too early to think where this will go, but I am honestly attracted to him.

"I want you to fall in love with me," were his words. I went over them again and again, and they made my heart beat faster. "I want you to fall in love with me."

With that thought echoing through my head, I fell into a deep sleep.

Let me know what you think of my story? Email me at nifty1dan@gmail.com.

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