Nathan stood with a beer, looking out over the lake from the patio. He'd spent the afternoon strategizing, obsessing, and second-guessing in a continual cycle. He was going to tell him. Obviously, Chase felt something too, otherwise why would he be spending time with an older man like himself? Nathan would find the right moment and say... what exactly? He wasn't even sure where to start, and that was where the second-guessing reared its ugly head and unraveled all of the strategizing he'd painstakingly plotted. And beyond that, what was he actually hoping might happen?
Their scheduled dinner loomed ahead of him like an albatross. He shook his head in disgust as he scanned the table. A bottle of wine, candles.... His heart started beating somewhere up around his throat and his stomach turned as he realized how delusional he had become. He glanced at his watch—seven forty-five. Without another moment wasted, he quickly stripped the table of the wine and candles and returned them to the kitchen, opting for another beer for Chase and himself.
Returning outside to the patio, he took a deep pull on his beer before lighting the barbecue. He was going to need the liquid courage to get through the evening. When he turned from the grill, Chase was standing by the table, a bottle of wine in his hand.
"Thought maybe you could use some help, so I'm a little early."
"I was just about to throw the steaks on," Nathan said, his pulse racing.
"I brought some wine. I didn't know what we were eating, so I brought red. Guess that works, right?" Chase asked, setting the bottle on the table and noticing the beer. "Or beer works too. I wasn't sure, but I wanted to bring something."
"Well, you can take your pick," Nathan offered.
"I'll take the beer. To be honest, I haven't really grown into liking wine yet. I think it's something that comes with age."
Nathan uncapped the beer for Chase and handed it to him. "That's what they say, you know. It gets better with time. The wine... and your appreciation of it too, I guess."
The men stood lost in their own thoughts momentarily. Finally, Nathan broke the silence. "Well, I should get started or we'll never get to eat." He walked past Chase into the kitchen and pulled the marinating steaks from the fridge, taking a deep breath as he pushed its door closed with his knee. Keep it together, he commanded himself before returning to the patio.
Chase was leaning with his back against the patio railing and seemed to be studying Nathan as he returned to the barbecue and forked the meat onto the grill.
"Why so serious?" Nathan asked, taking up the brush and basting the steaks with the marinade.
Chase shook his head and looked up at Nathan incredulously. "You're really strong, you know that?"
"What do you mean?"
"It's just...," Chase started, then seemed to think better of it. "It's nothing."
"No, really. What is it?" Nathan asked, glancing over at Chase.
"Well, to live this life—your life," Chase finally said.
Nathan turned and stared at him. He could hardly believe Chase was being so straightforward and that the elephant in the room was being acknowledged before they even sat down to dinner. He swallowed hard and shook his head, returning his focus to the steaks. "It's just life. I don't think it's that courageous."
"I can't imagine it."
"Things were different twenty years ago, Chase."
"That's exactly what I mean. I think it's easier to be yourself now. Like for me, sure it's hard, but I kind of take it for granted that I can be who I want to be."
Nathan closed the barbecue lid, walked over to the patio railing, and stared out over the lake. He wasn't sure how to start and wasn't even sure if he should. The last thing he felt was any sense of control right now. He certainly hadn't expected Chase to broach the subject. His fists clenched around the ornate metal railing as if to steady himself against the flow of thoughts all but ready to burst out of him. "When Tyler told me about you...," he began and then stopped, his mouth dry from the anxiety. Nathan took a swig of his beer and began again slowly, deliberately crafting each sentence. "I can't stop thinking about it. I don't want to think about it."
Nathan turned from the lake, and his gaze danced around Chase's face, unable to hold his eyes for any length of time. "It's just that all this—" He gestured lazily around the yard and almost with an air of defeat toward the cabin. "—none of it seems real anymore. Your life is going to be so... free."
Nathan's eyes finally met Chase's, and volumes were spoken in the momentary silence. Nathan let out a little laugh, but it was more shock than anything. He brought his fist to his mouth, terrified. "I've got to stop talking. I think you should go."
Chase blanched and he recoiled slightly like a twice-shy dog. Then, as if gathering his courage, he took a deep breath and stepped closer to Nathan, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.
Now it was Nathan who shrank under the touch, letting Chase's hand fall from his shoulder and keeping his eyes trained on the ground. "Chase... I... I really think you should go."
Nathan couldn't see what was happening on Chase's face, nor did he want to. The best he could manage right now was to not fall over. He was suddenly feeling very nauseous. He watched the white sneakers turn, pause for a moment, and then quickly walk away.