The next morning, Graham slept in.
Not a lot. Certainly not enough to risk being late to the office, but enough to trade his morning workout for an extra hour of sleep. It was nice.
With the reality of his twelve-day stay in Des Moines sinking in, he decided it was probably worthwhile to adjust his routine. No longer did he need to compress everything into the four-day sprint of his usual work trip schedule; now he could adapt his own routines from home to his new environment, starting with reclaiming his evening workout.
With the extra rest, Graham was clear-headed and quite chipper when he arrived at the client’s offices. Charles had emailed him late yesterday evening with an updated conference room for the day, and, much to Graham’s delight, this one featured a hitherto inexperienced luxury: windows. Graham smiled and immediately laid claim to a chair closest to the sunlit view.
Charles entered as he was getting his laptop connected to the conference display.
“Good Morning, Graham,” he said cheerily. “Welcome back.”
“Thanks, Charlie. Good to be back.”
They made small talk as they waited for the remaining attendees to arrive.
“Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask,” Graham interjected. “Are there any good coffee shops nearby? Between the hotel drip and the Starbucks lattes, I think I’m about to lose my mind.”
Charles laughed heartily.
“There’s a shop up the road called Metric that seems to have some good buzz. I’m not much of a coffee snob myself, but I see quite a few of their cups around the office. One of those fancy places that’s usually overrun by college students and hipsters, you know the kind.”
Graham smiled. “Perfect, thanks. I’ll give it a try.”
As he spoke, four men appeared in the doorway, and from their first impression there could be no doubt that this was the plumbing group. All four of the men were in their fifties, with balding heads and large bellies, and wore blue jeans, a plaid shirt, and a pair of worn-in boots.
Introductions were made, and Graham immediately liked them. They were friendly but direct, polite yet brusque, the kind of no-nonsense man’s man Graham could easily imagine preferred the company of water heaters to humans. Their agenda for the week was simple, yet expansive: collect data on their assets, identify their workflow procedures, and determine key metrics for reporting. It was the kind of simple consulting work he’d first begun his job performing, the kind he could pretty much facilitate in his sleep by now.
Graham liked his job. Or rather, he didn’t dislike it.
It was good to him – it paid the bills, had great benefits, included plenty of bonus opportunities, and afforded him a flexible, hybrid schedule when he wasn’t on the road for a project. It had been the perfect arrangement when he was a family man. Stable, predictable, secure. But now, as he was readjusting to life as a bachelor, it felt somewhat incomplete. Uninspiring. Mundane.
He thought of Archie, smiling and chatting behind the bar, humming to himself as he mixed drinks and stocked supplies. He envied that contentment, that joy Archie demonstrated in such simple, straightforward work. He’d never felt that for himself.
He sometimes wondered what he would do if he ever quit this job, left this career. Often he would fantasize about what he might do for fun, what he might do to get rich quick, what he might do if money was no object. Usually these thought experiments lasted only a few minutes before a wave of anxiety crashed over him and he convinced himself he was perfectly happy with his lot. As such, these daydreams resulted in precious few actionable ideas.
And so he remained, mostly content, if a little disengaged. Come to think of it, that summed up his whole life quite astutely.
He thought of Archie struggling to decide on a future career, also overwhelmed by the options and possibilities, also a little paralyzed by the endless array of choices. While he’d never admitted it before, Graham felt very much the same. Maybe his job seemed a little more permanent than bartending, but that didn’t mean he was in the place where had it all figured out, the place where he wanted to be.
It didn’t matter now, he thought as he opened an Excel file and launched into a discussion about fixed assets. The four men were helpful and engaged, which made the whole morning productive and really quite enjoyable. It was only later, on the drive back to the hotel, that his musings from the morning caught up to him, and he sat in silence in the five o’clock traffic, wondering what or where that place might be.
Wednesday night arrived with refreshing celerity.
Graham had taken most of the evening for himself: he’d found a nearby park to go for a run after work, enjoying the warming Spring weather. Afterwards, he grabbed dinner at a pub and made it back to the hotel with plenty of time to shower and change for drinks. He stopped by the bar quickly on his way through the lobby, where Arche greeted him with an excited smile.
“Hey!” His voice was friendly and relaxed. “Somebody’s been working out.”
Graham was suddenly conscious of his workout attire, of the short inseam of his running shorts and the snug, clinging polyester of his shirt. And though he’d worn this same outfit to dinner without any qualms – he was no stranger to wearing his gym clothes out for a quick bite – he now felt a little exposed, a little too aware of his body. He couldn’t help but notice Archie’s eyes quickly scan up and down, betraying an awareness of their own.
“Yeah,” he answered casually. “Just went for a run.”
“Good day for that,” Archie commented.
“Definitely. Just wanted to make sure we were still on for tonight?”
“Yes!” Archie’s eyes lit up. “I’m gonna try to duck out of here right at closing, so I’m hoping to be there around 10:15? 10:20 at the latest.”
“Perfect,” Graham nodded. “I’ll see you soon.”
Back in his room, Graham undressed and took a warm shower, the water soothing his tired muscles. Afterwards, he dried himself with the scratchy hotel towel and took a long look at himself in the mirror. He looked particularly trim this evening, no doubt a result of his diet on the road, which contained far fewer snacks and generally cleaner meals than when he worked from home, and the daily workouts he’d been devoting himself to. He looked good. Strong. Like a little bit of life had started to creep back into him.
After his shower, Graham caught up on a little personal grooming, carefully styling his hair, shaping up his beard, trimming his eyebrows, even removing a few of the loathsome hairs which had taken up residence in his nostrils – his most-hated sign of aging, if he were honest. The end result was satisfactory. He always looked handsome when he tried.
Staring in the mirror, the hotel towel still around his waist, he ran a hand through the hair that covered his chest and much of his stomach. He hadn’t done much grooming since the project began, so his body hair was a little…overgrown. He considered reaching for his clippers, but stopped, scolding himself for how absurd it was to be thinking about that now.
This isn’t that kind of drinks, he tried to convince himself.
Next, Graham went to the closet, pulling out a few new items he’d brought along, something he hoped fell between office casual and hotel room slob. He grabbed a pair of dark wash jeans, brown loafers, and new knit polo he’d ordered. It was black with two beige and white stripes down the front, and it fit him perfectly. He didn’t often find clothes that made him feel attractive, so this had been a pleasant surprise.
He spritzed himself with his favorite cologne and took a look at himself in the mirror. He looked confident. Relaxed. Sexy. Which was great because, on the inside, he was anxious as hell.
“It’s just drinks, Graham,” he said aloud to himself. “Nothing to make a big deal about.”
Archie was at the bar when Graham arrived.
He looked calm and collected, with the exception of his leg, which was bouncing up and down nervously on the barstool. When he noticed Graham approaching, he smiled and stood.
“Hey,” he said, a little breathlessly. “You found it.”
“Yeah,” Graham smiled. He stood still behind the barstool next to Archie’s. He felt a strong urge to add some sort of gesture to their greeting, but he wasn’t sure what – a handshake felt too awkward and formal, a hug felt far too intimate and familiar – so he just stood there. They both did, their hands in their pockets, their eyes glimmering in the dim bar light.
“Yeah, I realized when I got here that, if you couldn’t find it or if something came up, we’d kinda be screwed.”
“Yeah,” Graham agreed, sounding like a broken record.
“Anyways,” Archie rocked back on his heels. “Um, I’m glad you could make it.”
“Me too.”
They took their seats at the bar and perused the menu. Their half-price bottles, in honor of Wine Wednesday, were a really great deal, and Graham immediately identified four he wanted to try.
“These prices are a steal,” he marveled.
“Yeah,” Archie laughed. “I’m convinced this is the best bargain in town.”
“I’d believe you.”
The bartender approached them, a woman in her forties with a kind but no-nonsense air about her.
“Evening you two. Do you know what you’d like yet?”
Graham looked up and saw Archie staring at him expectantly. “All you,” he smiled.
“Oh,” Graham stuttered. “I think so. Can we do a bottle of the montepulciano?”
“Sure thing,” the bartender smiled. “Coming right out.”
Graham finally turned to Archie and allowed himself to take in the sight before him. Archie had traded out his black work polo for a light gray, cotton polo that fit him perfectly. It clung to his chest and accentuated his broad shoulders and narrow waist. The cuffs of the sleeves held on snugly to his biceps. It was a masterclass in good tailoring, even though Graham was sure it had come off a rack somewhere.
“So,” Archie cut him off. “How’s your week going?”
“It’s good,” Graham answered cheerfully. “Honestly, the plumbing guys are great.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Graham smiled. “I mean, they’re blunt, brusque, grumpy old men. Exactly what I would’ve expected for a bunch of career plumbers.”
Archie laughed. “They sound wonderful.”
“How about you? How’s your week been?”
“Pretty good,” Archie nodded, his eyes flickering towards the bar. “This is, uh, probably the highlight of it, if I’m honest.” His eyes returned to Graham’s. “It’s the only thing on my calendar, that is.”
Graham’s chest warmed at the compliment, but he tried to brush it off. “Well, I’m happy to clear such a low bar.”
Archie tossed his head back and laughed. “I didn’t mean it like that! I just, no, I’m glad we could do this again.”
“I am, too,” Graham confessed.
The bartender returned with their bottle and a fresh pair of crystal wine glasses, making a show of removing the cork and pouring a taste for Graham to approve.
“It’s great,” he smiled, and she poured generously into their glasses.
“You two enjoy,” she smiled and shuffled off.
Graham noticed the second use of you two and realized how closely this must have resembled a date. It had certainly felt like getting ready for a date, Graham realized, more than he wanted to admit. Even Archie, who had just come from work, had made sure to wear a collared shirt and clean, white shoes. He wore a watch Graham hadn’t seen before, and his hair looked perfectly tousled. Graham thought he could smell the traces of cologne wafting from Archie’s neck.
“Well,” Graham raised his glass, clearing his throat. “To the highlight of our week.”
They locked eyes for a minute, and he could see Archie fighting back a smile. He raised his glass to Graham’s and they took their first drink.
“What did you do this evening?” Archie asked.
“Went for a run out at Campbell park, I think it’s called?”
“Ah yeah, that explains the outfit.”
Graham blushed. “Oh no, I just wore that to work today. Figured the office could use more thigh.”
“Couldn’t we all?” Archie laughed. “But yeah, that’s a really nice spot.”
“It is, I was impressed,” Graham agreed.
“How far did you run?”
“Just like three-and-a-half miles, nothing major.”
Archie chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, basically nothing.”
Graham blushed.
“What about you? You said the other day you cycle?”
“Yeah,” Archie lit up. “I bought a road bike, like, two years ago, totally on a whim, and, I don’t know, I love it. I try to get out whenever the weather is good.”
“That’s really cool,” Graham opined. “Are you one of those guys with the bib and the jersey and everything?”
“Oh yeah, I got all the gear,” Archie grinned. “It took me a minute to cave and buy a bib, but it honestly makes it all so much easier. So yeah, now I’m that guy.”
Graham’s mind filled with the image of Archie in tight, black lycra, his strong thighs rippling as he propelled himself down a trail somewhere. He tried to wash this thought away with another drink.
“I’ve never tried one. My only bike experience recently has been trying to teach Eli.”
“How’s he taking to it?”
“Pretty good. He’s pretty fearless, if not the most coordinated.” Graham laughed affectionately.
“How often do you get to see him?” Archie asked. “Sorry, that might be too personal.”
“No, not at all,” Graham reassured him. “I see him most weekends. On Saturdays we’ll go to the park or the zoo or a movie. It’s kind of our day together, I guess you could say. And I’ll try to see him on Wednesday nights when I’m not traveling for work. He and his mom live on the other side of town, so we have to coordinate it a bit. But we both still want me to be as involved as I can be.”
“That’s good,” Archie smiled. “So are you two on decent terms then? You and…”
“Julie?” Graham filled in the blank. “We are. Mostly, yeah. Better now, at least.”
Archie stared at him for a moment before shaking his head. “Sorry, I just…I don’t know what to say. I feel like everything is going to sound so stupid and naive.”
Graham laughed. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. It’s weird to talk about. I get it.”
“Yeah, I just…my friends are all just starting to get engaged, so it's weird thinking about…well, you know.”
“Yeah. That’s exciting, though. That’s a fun season of life,” Graham observed. “Is that, uh, on your horizon at all?”
For some reason, Graham felt a swarm of butterflies in his stomach as the question left his mouth, but he pushed through. Archie met his gaze.
“Me? No,” he chuckled. “No, I think that’s still a long way off.”
