Telling the Two Apart

It didn’t take long for Nina to call Gerard. It wasn’t that he had been waiting by the phone, exactly, although he was anticipating it. When one meets a new person and the meeting goes so very well, it is next to impossible not to think about it. And Gerard had been in Chicago for those three months without making any real friends. What could be better than Nina?

The phone was one of two in the house, placed on a table in the foyer with a plant hanging beside it. The house had few plants. Kelly didn’t have enough time to tend to them, and Gerard had more of a brown thumb than a green one—brown representing the dead leaves that Kelly had to break off the plants now and then when Gerard neglected them.

As for the phone, sitting stoically on the table, it matched the feeling and idea of the décor Kelly had chosen for the townhouse. It was a rotary phone—the obsolete style that Gerard liked the look of and whose functionality was forever lost. The phone was black and plastic with brass highlights, elegant and old-fashioned. There were two phones because one was a touch-tone cordless. To do anything more than call a friend, a touch-tone was required.

But since the rotary phone was the one by the door, it was the one Gerard answered when he came inside from the rain on a particularly gloomy day, one and one half weeks after meeting Nina for the first time.

“Hello,” he said amicably, half-expecting it to be his brother Mikey.

“Hello…I’m looking for Gerard,” said Nina’s voice, hesitant.

“Speaking.”

“Oh! Hi, it’s Nina. Um, we went to IHOP together?”

Gerard knew who she was. Nina’s assumption that he would forget made him grin into the phone as he cradled it, slipping awkwardly out of his wet coat. Droplets of water ran from his hair, down his face and onto the floor. “Yeah, hey, nice to hear from you.”

“I was just sitting around the house, and I thought, well, you know, ‘Hey, why don’t I call Gerard?’ So I did.”

The truth was that Nina had been sitting around the house quite a lot in the past week and a half—she was definitely stretching her wings, out for coffee and maybe a few movies, but still tentative. Of course, Gerard didn’t know this. “Well, want to get together for some coffee?”

“Something else. I’m really not a coffee person.”

“Well, you know, I’d invite you out for a drink but it’s not even two o’clock,” quipped Gerard. He laughed when she laughed.

They chatted shortly about the weather—raining cats and dogs, as it were—and Gerard confessed that while he did like the rain most days, he’d just had to walk to the bank and back, and it left him with little appreciation for the downpour that had ensued. “I really am soaking wet,” he groaned.

“Oh, do you want to go and clean up then?” she asked worriedly, concerned about being a nuisance.

Gerard slicked his hair back with one hand. “Look, well…” he paused, thinking. After a moment, he continued with, “Why don’t you just come over here? We can—”

“No, no, really, it’s okay.” While Nina was grateful for Gerard’s kindness and willingness to spend his time with her, but he was still mostly a stranger, and it was a big city with a lot of creeps. Not as many as New York or Tampa, per se, but plenty to keep someone wary.

“Okay, well, it’s up to you.”

“Maybe another day when it’s not raining, we can do something.”

“Yeah, a movie or…”

“…Yeah.”

Gerard sighed. “Okay. Well, I’m going to go now, since I’m standing in a puddle here.” He added a laugh.

“Oh…yeah, so I’ll talk to you another time.”

“Deal.”

“Bye then.”

“Ta-ta.”

He set the phone down quickly and walked through the moderately sized townhouse to the small bathroom. The townhouse had two stories, both of which Kelly Juliana owned. Upstairs there was a bedroom, Kelly’s of course, and a bathroom jutting from it. Downstairs were the basics—kitchen, sitting room, dining room—and then Gerard’s room and bathroom. Both were modest in size. If one were prone to exaggeration, Gerard would break an arm if he weren’t careful in the bathroom.

It was an exaggeration. But regardless, Gerard gave his elbow a good smack on the towel bar when he peeled off his wet shirt. He sucked in air through clenched teeth.

Fully intending to take a long, warm shower to rinse off the clammy, gloomy feeling that the rain had drenched him in, Gerard was down to his boxers when the goddamned phone rang again.

He hesitated, debating whether or not to answer. Before he could decide, he heard the answering machine come on, Kelly’s voice asking if whoever was calling could please leave their name and number along with their reason for calling, also adding Gerard’s name in there just in case. The caller began his message.

“Hey, Gee, it’s me. I was just calling to see if you were alive or not—oops, I guess I really don’t know that yet since you didn’t answer the phone.”

It was Mikey. Gerard flung the door open and hurried to the phone as his brother continued to address the machine.

“Okay, well now that I’ve sufficiently gotten myself thinking that you might be dead, and I really hope you’re not, by the way, call me when—”

Gerard picked up. “Alive and well,” he said casually.

“Hey! I was really worried there for a second.”

“I could tell. What’s up? How’s it going?”

Mikey made a clicking noise, putting together his words, then replied, “It’s fine. I’ve been spending a lot of time at Frank’s. Actually, we had a jam session earlier today. Ray and Bob dropped by. It’s been really boring around here—it wasn’t the same without you being your usual jerk self.”

“I’m not a jerk.”

“Well, since you’re not here and I miss you, I can agree with that for now.” Gerard could hear the smile in his brother’s voice.

Gerard had obviously given up on a shower, but simply putting on dry clothes would feel nice. It was certainly better than standing there in his underwear. He went back into the bathroom, scooped up his wet clothes, and deposited them in a laundry basket by his door as he went into his bedroom. “So anyway, how’s Frank doing?”

“He’s fine. Man, Gee, when’re you coming home?”

“Never.”

“Don’t kid around like that. Seriously. It’s kind of a drag without you here.”

“I’m sorry. Hey, I miss you guys too. Make sure and tell everyone that.”

Mikey sighed. “So how are things going? Are you feeling any better? I mean, have things gotten better since you got your Great Escape?”

Gerard had been rummaging through his dresser drawers and now he straightened, apparently unable to discuss this and dress himself at the same time. “I’m fine,” he said, measuring his words. “Things are great. I mean, I’m feeling great. I’m happy and things are going well.”

“Oh, good,” Mikey said with relief, but Gerard stopped him.

“That’s the thing. I’m happy…but I’m happy here. In Chicago.”