Chapter Nine

Forrest

I had many skills. I was good at multitasking, I could run a meeting like a boss, and my lasagna was turned down by none. But, this week, I discovered a brand-new skill set I never realized I had: avoiding my boss. If it was an Olympic sport, I was going to be the gold medalist. I managed to avoid Cliff every step of the way for an entire week. I felt bad about it. Intentionally avoiding someone was rude, but also, I was in fight-or-flight mode, and I didn't know where to fly. This was where I belonged; it was figuring out what that was going to look like that was the tricky part.

Work was getting to be unbearable, if I continued this route. Soon enough, I was going to have to put on my big-boy pants and just be normal at work. But today was not that day. Monday might not be either. Thank goodness I had Saturday and Sunday to figure it out.

On my way home, I stopped at the animal shelter. I'd signed up for their mailing list when I arrived, knowing that I wanted a pet eventually and wanting to stay up to date. A litter of kittens had been brought in, and I had half a mind to adopt one of them. It was a weird time of year for kittens, and I wouldn't have been surprised if they were gone by the time I even opened the email.

Yes, I was fully aware that animals were not solutions to problems, but I had always wanted a pet. The timing might be weird with me being in a funk, but I wasn't making my decision based on that. My last place wouldn't allow any pets, not even a goldfish. This building did, as long as it was under 100 pounds. Why 100 pounds? I had no idea, but even a Maine coon cat didn't reach that, so my pet of choice was saved.

They were having an open house, so I figured it was worth a look, even if the kittens were long gone. Plus, it gave me something to look forward to all week, and I really had needed that.

When I arrived, it was packed. They had a Christmas tree filled with ornaments of wish list items for the shelter. I grabbed a few. If nothing else, I could help them give these animals a better life.

I wasn't a dog kind of guy, so I went straight to the cat room. The kittens were long gone, as I pretty much knew they would be, but that was okay. They were more my excuse to come than my reason to be there. I opted to stay and play with a few of the cats.

Cats always fascinated me—they picked their people, not the other way around. I was squatting down, petting an adorable gray cat when one came out of the corner and whacked the cat I was petting, on the head, and, when the first cat left, he used my hand to pet him. I wanted to tell him, "Now that was rude. We don't do that." But then he looked up at me with his big green eyes and purred, and I melted. In that moment, he owned me.

And that's when I became the proud parent of a seven-year-old stray cat called Nick that was sassy, cuddly, and bossy , according to his card. I'd already witnessed just how true all three of those descriptors were.

I was able to pick up the supplies I needed in their attached shop. I'd obviously have to go out and get more, but I had a box, litter, food, and the basic necessities for the night. It was a remarkably easy process, and we were on our way home much earlier than I thought.

As we reached my front door, carrier in one hand, bag of cat supplies in the other, I nearly tripped on a box sitting there. I pushed it out of the way with my foot and went inside, set up the litter, a couple of dishes—one of water and the other with some kibble—before opening the carrier and letting the cat out, allowing him to ease his way into the apartment.

It wasn't until I brought the cat carrier to the trash chute—it was pretty gross inside, thanks to his drool—that I remembered the parcel. I picked it up and brought it back inside, trying to remember if I had ordered anything. I hadn't.

When I looked at the label, I recognized the logo immediately. It was from the store I had stopped at—the one with the teddy bear on the sign and all the stuffies. But who would be sending me something from there? It wasn't like I filled anything out to let them know who I was or where I lived. I had just stopped by on a whim.

I opened the box, pulled back the tissue paper, and found the most adorable Christmas tree I'd ever seen, looking up at me. Yes, it had eyes, which normally might be creepy, but also it was kawaii to the core. I loved it. Picking it up, I snuggled it close.

When I looked deeper in the box, I found a card. The tree was from Cliff and came with a dinner invitation. My initial instinct was to accept, but I needed to think on it. I'd already made a mess of things once. I didn't need to do it again.

I set it aside for later and got ready for a little night at home with my new cat. I found my red footie jams and snuggled on the couch with my blankie and new stuffie. Rudolph was my show of choice because, well, it was Rudolph . I watched it a couple of times all the way through.

My sweet new fur baby ended up sitting next to me on the couch, but he was exhausted and slept pretty much the entire time. I kept looking at the Christmas tree. It was such a sweet gesture. That wasn't something you just randomly found when you were out and about. He had to intentionally have done that. And as much as I hated to admit it, it would be better if Cliff were here to enjoy this time with me. It would be complicated and messy, and I'd probably regret it, but I'd also regret not even trying.

I used the phone number he left on the card, and, instead of texting him, I called. He answered on the first ring with a question to his hello

"Hi, this is Forrest. I got the box."

"I hope you liked it." His tone was tentative, and I wondered if this was as complicated for him as it was for me. It had to be, right?

"I did. A lot. I found that store the other day, and I really liked it, and he's cuddly, and he's Christmas, and...I'm sorry I made things weird at the club." I babbled away, not overthinking my words.

"Oh, sweet boy. There's no way to make something like that not be weird. Seeing each other as our true selves when you've only known each other in a work context is always going to be a little awkward, at best. I was afraid when you didn't call that maybe I misread and that maybe you weren't interested." His honesty comforted me. It was like he was giving me permission to let go of all the stress.

"I thought that at the club... Never mind."

Silence filled the space between us. He was waiting for me to continue without pressuring me to do so.

"I was avoiding you because I thought you weren't interested, and I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

"Maybe we should try talking next time." He was right, of course.

"Agreed. I got a cat today." It had been hard enough not leading with that. "His name is Nick."

"You did? Was that in your plans?" Such a daddy thing to say.

"Sort of. I knew I wanted a pet, and they were having an event at the shelter. They said they had kittens, so I thought I might go look at them. But then St. Nicholas over here decided that I was his person."

"Cats do have a way of doing that. Did he keep rubbing against your leg?"

"Yes, but that was after he whacked the cat I was petting on the head and made sure he left." I barely contained my laughter as I told my story.

"Oh, he really did pick his person. How's he adjusting?"

I took a picture of Nick and sent it to him. "That's him."

"He looks pretty tuckered out."

"He is. We're having a night in." And then the words wouldn't stop coming as I told him everything—about the cartoon and how my favorite part was when Rudolph kept trying to fly, even when it was hard. I mentioned that I was in my jammies and snuggling my new tree. All of it.

Then he asked, "Have you been without a daddy for long?"

It caught me off guard but was also a necessary conversation. One I knew had to come sooner rather than later, but I was still nervous about it. Whether Cliff was my boss or just some random person I'd met, this was important.

"It's been a long time since I had a daddy, and quite a while since I had a mommy." I had been dumped for being bisexual before and had others consider it a nonstarter. It was best to get it out there before we went any further.

"I see," Cliff said, and I wasn't sure what to make of it. So, I just ripped off the Band-Aid.

"I'm bi. I always have been. I've dated men and I've dated women. And I know that's a deal-breaker for a lot of people, and I understand if it is for you, but I thought you should know. I..."

Cliff interrupted softly, "I'm really sorry someone made you feel like that was a deal-breaker before. It won't be for me."

"Are you sure you won't... I don't know, always wonder, if—"

"Wonder about what? If I'm lucky enough to have an adorable little agree to have dinner with me? No, I don't need to wonder about that. He already said yes."