Chapter Twenty One

JULIAN

December 20, 1990

Gray and I have been in Boston for the last four months. Yes, I finally convinced him that we would move back to New York once he finishes school here. The conditions for me moving with him were that I re-enroll at NYU in about four years. And the other being that I work at least part-time because we both couldn't stay in his dorm at Northeastern University. It was pertinent that I earned the extra income so we could afford our apartment. I found a job in the pharmacy at Fenway Drugs. It's not so bad at all. Besides one male pharmacist, I'm the only other guy there. My coworkers seem noxious, but I keep my nose to myself.

I've since found a terrific social group for young adults, off-campus from N.U. It's called ‘Writers on The Cape,' and they've taken a liking to me right away. In fact, I've already absorbed an abundance of tips to refine the style and voice in my writing. Since we all aspire to be famous authors one day, neither of us seem put off by healthy criticism if it helps us hone our craft. We meet twice a week, taking turns on whose place to gather each time.

My boy finally caught a break from selling groceries. Now he's waiting tables at a swanky steakhouse down by Harvard University. Dealing with hungry people has been a challenge for him, but his tips are usually always stellar. Of course, only the wealthier Bostonians can ever afford to eat there. But he gets a discount, so we've dined there one time. That was last night, celebrating my nineteenth birthday. However, the real celebration was on Sunday.

I woke up that morning to perform my usual stretch-out-of-bed exercise. After splashing water into my face in the bathroom, I shuffled out to our tiny, but adequate kitchen to fix coffee. To my surprise, the pot was already brewed and piping hot. Off to the side of the coffeemaker was a single red carnation in a vase, with a notecard propped next to it. As I lifted the card from the counter, a folded dollar bill fell freely to the top of my right foot.

Travel back in time to our first Boston date. You'd better get a hustle on or else you'll be late.

It took me a minute to catch on what sort of fuckery Grayson was up to. But the clue wasn't hard to zero-in on. He was likely waiting for me at the Sweets ‘n Things donut shop on the corner of Columbus & Arlington. It closes early on Sunday's, so I figured I'd require the light rail. This explained why he left the dollar. Without wasting another minute, I hurried to the bedroom so I could slap on a fresh pair of pants and a sweater. Before heading out the door, I recovered my keys from the coffee table, then slipped into my jacket.

Around the corner, I stood inside the train stop for what seemed like forever. My arms shivered as I anxiously bobbed my torso to generate some heat. Finally, the rail slithered through, whisking me across town. The romance in this surprise didn't shock me one iota. Grayson's always going above and beyond with his grand gestures. But I wondered why he would want to meet at a donut place on a Sunday morning, instead of just taking me with him.

The short rail escort left me ascending to the sidewalk on Boylston Street. A frigid chill bit at my nose while rounding the corner at Arlington. It only took a matter of maybe four minutes before I finished my trek to the donut shop. All the while, tiny butterfly sensations flourishing my belly. I'm such a sucker for surprises, especially when they're a product of my Sugar Bear's creative imagination.

I arrived at Sweets ‘n Things with plenty of time to spare, only to see an elderly couple sitting at a table next to the large window. Grayson wasn't anywhere to be seen. I figured he'd surely meant the donut shop, because it was our first date spot the weekend after settling into our new digs. I approached the counter, asking the lady if I'd by chance missed Grayson. She hunched over, retrieving another note card with a second red carnation. She smiled while passing it across the counter.

"Good luck," she said. "And Happy Birthday, Julian."

Along a narrow sidewalk are baby bronze ducks a' flopping. But right around the corner, you'll find the next clue waterside, so you'd better get to hopping.

At that moment, it occurred to me that Grayson was sending me on a scavenger hunt across Boston. I'd only seen this sort of thing in a movie one time, but never figured I'd ever have someone special enough to execute something similar. Boy was I wrong! And though it took a few minutes, I'd deciphered the precise location of where to go next. Up around the corner from the donut shop is Boston Common Park, where there's a large fountain named Frog Pond. It's on the East side of Charles Street, next to a group sculpture of bronze ducklings following their mother along the sidewalk. It had to be what Gray was referring to.

I took a stroll back up to Boylston Street, heading East before settling on the sidewalk at Charles Street. I crossed the paths winding throughout Boston Common to the fountain. While I cut through the park, I scanned around for what appeared to be another red carnation with a white notecard. This produced no results, so I stepped over to a small hut where tickets for the carousel are sold. The boy knew exactly what I'd sought after when I mentioned a carnation and notecard. He turned around at once to reveal my third clue. I graciously accepted it, thanking him for participating in Grayson's romantic scheme.

I bet you're wondering what comes after clue number three. So, keep heading East where they spill all the tea.

That clue couldn't have been any more obvious. How could I forget missing those questions on a test in our third period History class? A mile East of Boston Common is a floating museum he and I visited a couple of months ago. They put on live shows, reenacting events from the Boston Tea Party. My curiosity intensified as I jetted down Dorchester to Congress, leading my curiosity for how many more clues he'd possibly send me on. Especially since I'd been seeking clues for about two hours by that point.

Just about midway, over the Congress Street Bridge, is the entrance to the museum. I stepped off under the guise Gray left my next clue with the girl in a ticket booth. As I approached, she must have immediately known what I'd ask for. Kelsey reached around to grab my fourth clue, yet another red carnation—but also a white paper sack from Sweets ‘n Things.

"Happy Birthday, Julian," she greeted me as I retreated, my nose sunk deep into the sack.

You're probably hungry by now, and that's perfectly fine. Enjoy this apple fritter and juice, while waiting for the Orange Line. Take it to the place where you'd expect to find me most. Your surprise is awaiting, next to Janet's post.

In the sack with the pastry, Grayson included another dollar bill which he'd wrapped in a piece of wax paper. He's nothing if not a major germaphobe. I sank my fangs into the fritter while returning to Kelsey in the booth, asking her where to locate the closest light rail stop. She pointed in the direction I'd just come from, informing me that the South Station hub is just down from Dorchester. With no time to spare, I treaded the path back over the bridge. My feet retraced their previous steps reaching Summer Street. And a half block down to the left was the rail hub.

The apple juice was lukewarm by the time I'd been able to drink it. But it cured my thirst, nonetheless. I disposed of my trash in a bin below a large map of the different routes while locating the Orange Line. Within a couple of minutes, I found myself over a threshold at the third gate. The rail carried me back across town to the West side, my suspicions narrowing on where I'd find Grayson on a Sunday during lunchtime—the university library.

Anticipation and excitement burst from within me by the time I'd walked from the Ruggles stop around a winding path. This had been a sentimental journey across town and back, but I must admit I was happy I'd approached the end of it. I entered the doors of the library with swagger, traipsing down the hallway. I couldn't imagine who Janet was, but figured she was employed by the university in some capacity. After striding through another set of doors, I spotted a lady standing behind a long counter. As she turned around to greet me, I saw her nametag read ‘Janet.'

"I believe I'm looking for you," I said excitedly.

"You must be Julian," she replied, placing a book at the top of a pile.

I nodded nervously. "That's me," I said. "I'm supposed to find a surprise here—" I stammered, not entirely certain at that point. "I think anyway?"

Janet reached under the counter to retrieve another notecard. She slid it in my direction with amusement. I smiled as I scooped it off the surface, reading what appeared to be the final mysterious clue.

Sorry Momo, for the white lie. This will be your final clue. Find the book you told me about which made you cry. I promise your surprise won't make you blue.

I didn't require a single minute to remember which book I'd previously told him which made me emotional. Especially since it's the singlemost title which instilled my aspirations of being a writer. Janet waved her hand, pointing across the room towards the card catalog. Once I approached the cabinet, my forefinger scanned through the labels of each drawer until I reached the corresponding bin to direct my steps in finding "The Great Gatsby" by F. Scott Fitzgerald. I grabbed a small pencil and slip of paper to write down the Dewey code.

There was a shelf off to my left, down a narrow walkway. And after a bit of searching in the American Fiction section, I located the correct shelf. When I turned the corner, I spotted Grayson and was pleasantly surprised to see Miles standing with Alex beside him. Each of them smiled as I practically ran towards my boy with outstretched arms for a big hug.

Grayson whispered low into my ear. "Happy Birthday, Momo."

I gently nibbled on his right ear lobe while we hugged. "Thank you," I replied, unashamed to be showing my affection in front of the boys.

Alex and Miles patted my shoulder at the same time. "Happy early Birthday," Miles added.

Grayson cleared his throat, pulling his head away from mine. "You must not have had much trouble with any of the clues."

I shook my head. "Fairly easy," I admitted. "You're a wordsmith yourself."

"Speaking of words," Grayson stated, pointing his finger in the air. "Alex?"

Alex turned around to bend over, picking up a rectangular box wrapped in green paper.

"This is your birthday present," Grayson advised me. "It's from the three of us."

We left the aisle of bookshelves to sit at a round table, where I could unwrap my gift. Once I tore away the wrapping, a brown cardboard box revealed the words Macintosh PowerBook.

"You're one of twenty-five lucky bastards on the planet to have one of these," Grayson explains.

"How so?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

Alex scratched his head before clarifying. "You know my dad is well connected," he said with an open palm. "He knows a guy in charge of the beta testing for Apple Computers, so he was able to get his hands on one for you."

It shocked me to no end to find out I was considered lucky by any account. But confused at the same time. "What do I do with it?" I asked.

Grayson piped up—but as soon as he did—we heard a loud hiss from around the corner because he blurted so loud. "You start writing your first book," he said. "Just because you're not in the writing program at NYU right now, doesn't mean you can't start getting your thoughts and words out."

My finger found itself planted into the side of my head. "Ohhh," I replied. "Well, I feel so honored to be one of the very first people to have one of these," I added. "It must have cost you a fortune though."

Alex held out his hand. "That's not important man," he assured me. "You're what's most important to us."

I leaned over Grayson's shoulder to kiss him in front of the boys—and anyone else who might have walked by at the time. In the quiet environment of the library, he and I continued pressing our lips together. We held each other for a couple of minutes. I'm gratified by the lengths these guys went to, ensuring that Miles and Alex visited Boston to celebrate my first birthday since we'd become a unit.