into my pocket to see if the condoms had miraculously turned into money. No luck. “Hey,” I said, “as long as you’re in a spending mood, why don’t you buy me a cup of coffee? I’ll stay here and keep your bear company.”
“Sure.”
Roberto headed off. I leaned on the railing and watched the bear, who was playing with a plastic barrel. He seemed to be having the time of his life. I wondered what Roberto thought about when he came here. I wondered if he wanted me to ask him. Maybe that was why he’d brought me here in the first place.
The barrel flew from the bear’s gigantic paws and into the water. Without hesitation, he got up, did a belly flop on top of the barrel, then held it in his paws while paddling around his personal swimming pool.
“Nice job, if you can get it,” I mumbled.
“His name is Gus,” a voice said.
“Huh?”
“The bear. His name is Gus.”
I looked at the man who stood next to me, but not too close. Not bad. Not really my type—a little too neat around the edges. But cute. Maybe in his late twenties.
“I’m Mark.”
“Nick.”
We shook hands. I sniffed and wiped my nose on the sleeve of my jacket before I could stop myself.
“Got that cold that’s going around, huh?” Mark asked. It beat Nice weather we’re having, huh? Plus it was more accurate.
“Yeah. I guess so.”
Mark looked back at the bear and said, “They’re becoming extinct, you know. Because we’re fucking up the climate and their habitat.”
“Figures,” I muttered, staring at the doomed bear. “Nothing lasts.”
Before Mark could answer, I heard Roberto say, “Here’s your coffee. Hot and black, just the way you like your—”
“Roberto, this is Mark,” I said. “Mark, Roberto.”
“—bears,” Roberto finished. The two of them exchanged a look I couldn’t decipher. Maybe Mark thought Roberto was my boyfriend. Maybe Roberto was assessing whether he should get lost and leave me with Mark.
“Roberto’s my roommate. One of them,” I said. Then I sneezed four times in rapid succession, sloshing coffee all over the place.
Mark smiled—he had great teeth—and said, “You really should do something about that.”
“It’s just a stupid cold,” I said.
Except I was starting to wonder, because what happened next made me think I might be hallucinating. Roberto and Mark closed in on me a little, so that when they started walking away from the bear exhibit, it was automatic for me to fall in step between them. It was only when we left the park and Mark hailed a cab that my senses returned.
“Are we going somewhere?” I asked.
“We are,” Mark said.
“All three of us?”
Whatever expression I wore made Roberto say, “It’s chill.”
It was the last thing any of us said until we were in the back of a cab and Mark gave the driver an address. I considered the ache in my muscles and the wooziness of my thought processes. It didn’t seem like a good time for my first three-way, even if I did have two condoms in my pocket.
I closed my eyes and let my head fall on Roberto’s shoulder, indifferent to a din of mental voices that sounded suspiciously like my uncle and his friends. Wherever we were going, it couldn’t be for anything too sinister if Roberto was part of it.
An hour later, I was putting my clothes back on and Mark was dropping latex in the trash. Latex gloves.
“If Roberto wanted to pay for a doctor, he could have just told me,” I grumbled, gingerly sliding into my pants because of the penicillin injection Mark had given me.
“He’s not paying. It’s a free clinic. We avoided the red tape and saved you hours in the waiting room. Just thank him for calling me before that sinus infection and tonsillitis got worse. Since it’s bacterial, I’ll prescribe an antibiotic. Take the full dose as ordered until the pills are gone. Do you have a job?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll write you an excuse from work while you’re contagious.”
I wished he could write me an excuse from Morgan while I was contagious. At least now that I had her check.
“It’s useful to have a roommate who knows a doctor,” I said. My grandmother the hypochondriac would have been thrilled that I’d met a doctor, if only the doctor wasn’t sporting a penis. Following up on that thought, I added, “It’s been a memorable first date, anyway.” Mark’s grin encouraged me. “Will there be a second? Or do I have to be stricken with another disease to see you?”
He slid the prescription into my shirt pocket, patted it in place, and said, “If you happen to take my phone number from the prescription and call me sometime, we can talk about a second date then.” My face must have shown that I didn’t really believe him, because as he nudged me out the door, he said, “You should rent the movie Casablanca.”
“Huh?” I asked, wondering again if I was delirious.
“You said nothing lasts,” Mark said. “Listen to the song in Casablanca.”
Roberto gave me a quizzical look when I found him outside the clinic. I grunted at him, then sneezed again. “You gonna live?” he asked. When I nodded, he thrust out his arm to hail a cab and said, “You can thank me when you’re feeling better.”
“People always expect you to be grateful when they run your life,” I said. I mimicked his accent when I added, “I ain’t your bitch.”
“I took you to the zoo,” he said, opening the cab door for me.
“I ended up getting a shot,” I said, sliding inside.
“I’m paying for your cab fare home,” he said, slamming the door.
“To an apartment full of snakes.”
“You win,” Roberto conceded.
“You know any place we can rent movies?” I asked.
“You got anything to watch ’em on?”
“Damn,” I said. We stared at each other a few seconds. “Maybe Morgan has something to watch them on,” I suggested.
Roberto pulled my hood over my eyes. I didn’t push it back, pretending that it made me invisible.
February 23, 2003
Dear Nick,
It was strange to get back from my trip and find you gone. I knew you were moving out, but it was weird when it actually happened. I hope you’re settling into your new place okay.
I know my reaction to all this hasn’t been great. I can be stubborn and worse when engaged in a contest of wills. (You hold your own just fine, too.) I’ve probably been smothering or controlling or overbearing. I’ve heard I can be that way from time to time.
Fortunately, Daniel reminded me that really, none of this is about me. It’s about you making your own decisions. And why shouldn’t you? That’s part of being your own man.
One thing worried me. You took so little. You left your computer and most of the other stuff in your room. I hope that wasn’t because I bought it. Those things are yours, and you can take them any time you want. Maybe you left them here on purpose. Maybe you want to know you’ve always got a room here. That goes without saying. If you need to use anything here, or come here to crash occasionally (everybody has roommate problems from time to time), you have a key and you’re always welcome.
That’s