Page 31 of The Road to Home Base
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For the silliest of moments, I forgot I lived in the Greater Boston Area. Even at fifteen until midnight, traffic choked the streets as my driver tried to get us over the Charles and into Cambridge. I sat in the back of the car and, with numb fingers, retrieved my phone from my jeans pocket. The second gin and tonic burned its way through my system. I didn’t drink often and one was enough to send me to the edge. Two? “Free Fallin’” by Tom Petty came to mind.
My thumbs fumbled their way through a text.
Me:Might be late for that call. Will you still be up?
Rome:I’ll wait all night if I have to.
Snark was the first thing to come to mind. I wanted to reply and call him out for his recalcitrance over the past five days. To ignore his sweet sentiments and jab right into the heart of the issue. Instead, I swam right into the eddy of flattery.
Me:Then I’ll tell my driver to step on it.
Rome:Just be safe. I’ll be waiting.
It was ten past midnight by the time I got home. Paid half a mortgage in fees for the driver, something I carelessly did in the moment but when the alcohol cleared, I would berate myself. I made okay money, but it wasn’t like photography was exceedingly lucrative.
I snagged a bottle of water from the fridge and set some mood lighting with a dimmed lamp on the end table. I fluffed the pillows on the couch so I could appear relaxed and yet stillcomfortably hold the phone. After chugging half the bottle, I pep talked myself to clear the alcohol from my system, then thumbed the option to video call the one and only.
“There he is,” Rome said. I saw him in the same light, although this time he appeared lower in the hotel bed. “Home safe and sound?”
I made a quick show of the apartment and nodded. “I sure am. All snug in your hotel room?”
He smiled. “I sure am,” he repeated.
“Hey, congrats on your win against the Hawks last night. You guys played well.”
He moved in his bed and braced his fist against his cheek. “You really do watch each game, don’t you. The whole thing?”
I nodded. “I had no idea how long they last. Admittedly, I zone out sometimes. Four hours is quite a long time for a sports game.”
He chuckled. “Try playing that long and multiple times a week. It’s a lot.”
I snapped and swung my arm. “But not for big ol’ Wamowo Mow… Wa…” I felt heat burn over my cheeks. My eyes misted, mouth went dry. I pressed my lips together and worked my tongue in my mouth. Rome’s eyes had grown as he peered into the camera. “Ro-mo-lo Mo-ret-ti,” I said, over-exaggerating each syllable.
“Hold on, hold on, hold. What on earth was that?”
I laughed and looked away from the camera. “I used to have trouble pronouncing Rs. And I’ve had a few tonight. So.Hellooochildhood speech impediment.” I held up an accusatory finger at the camera. “And you have a hard name to pronounce!”
He stared at me for several beats, as if a problem I had as a child meant something to him. He had an enamored smile on his face as he stared that slowly faded the longer the beat went on. He blinked. Brow curled upward.
“I’m sorry,” Rome said.
“For your silence?” I asked.
He nodded. “I’ve been going through something. I needed time. I shouldn’t have been so quiet with you. I’m sure you thought I ghosted you or something.”
I shrugged. “You didn’t stop talking entirely. But… yeah… I figured you might have changed your mind and wanted to go easy on me.” It was also part of the reason I went out to the bar with my friends.
Rome’s hand slapped his chest and he brought the camera forward. “No. Goodness, no, Alex. No. You… the thought of you is what kept my head leveled.”
My eyes closed for a moment. Feelings, old familiar feelings, ignited within me. A kaleidoscope of desire, lust, affection, terror, all swirled and warred for dominance.
“So what happened? Are you okay?”
Rome let out a long and heavy sigh. “Well…”
He went on to explain a recent situation with a communications manager—a woman who tried to date him, to boot. Admittedly, I was not surprised by the rumors that had already churned. Given Bill’s reaction as I sat next to him in that camera well, I figured something might become of the way Number Sixteen made uncharacteristic conversation with a rando photographer. Rome had no need to explain to me the silence surrounding gay professional sports players. He alluded to my ex as he explained things, knowing that I was already aware of the code of silence.
