ANTICIPATION

Two months. Three weeks. One day. Four hours. Thirty-Two minutes.

That’s how long Blair will have been gone. That’s the countdown I’m on until he comes home…until he comes back to me.

I’m very proud of myself for encouraging him to go that expedition to Mexico with Eli Stoddard. Ok, I admit that at first I did have more that a few thoughts about sabotage and mayhem. But one glanced at the excited look in Blair’s eyes and I caved. He would never throw it in my face about how much of his professional life he’s sacrificed. That’s just not his style.

He knows I’ll do it for him.

I managed to answer all his misgivings about zoning by solemnly raising my hand and promising to work with Megan Conner. I avoided the threat of future tests by promising to play nice with others.

But that was then and this is now.

I take careful inventory of the loft.

The bathroom has scented candles and a huge bottle of that kiwi-banana bath liquid-stuff that drives Blair wild.

There’s a low fire in the fireplace that’s throwing romantic shadows on the brick walls. And gently scented vanilla candles are artfully scattered around the living room.

There’s finger-food on the coffee table in the living room. All that crazy fruit that Blair salivates over.

Dinner’s being kept warm in the oven, and all I’ll have to do is actually put it on plates and serve it.

You see, I came to a conclusion during my guide’s absence. I love him. And I don’t mind admitting that those three words shook and rattled my corner of the world. So I took the two months, three weeks, one day, four hours, and thirty-two minutes that Blair was gone to thoroughly examine my feelings for him.

And got progressively hard with each examination.

Then I went over Blair’s actions towards me with more intensity than I’ve ever examined a crime scene.

And did a lot of laundry.

So now I’m waiting…and anticipating. Blair called from the airport to say he’d arrived safely and was taking a cab. I offered to pick him up; but he said that since the University was covering all transportation costs, he’d let them reimburse him for the cab tab. Then he joyously laughed and admitted he was glad to be home.

He’s not as glad as I am.

And speaking of cabs, I hear Blair getting out of one. I listen as he thanks the cab driver and pays him. I hear a happy sigh as he picks up both suitcases, my old battered one and the new one I bought him, and enter the building. I hear an even happier sigh when he realizes the elevator is working.

While I’m listening, I’m quickly lighting all the candles in the living room. I barely get the last one lit when the front door opens.

“Hey, Jim! I’m home! Man, I am so glad to be back!”

I turn to watch the love of my life scoot each suitcase clear of the door with a swift movement of his right foot. At the same time, he closed the door behind him and began wiggling out of his jacket. Then he turned and saw the candle-lit living room.

Standing there, jacket half-on and half-off, his mouth comically dropped open. “Uh, Jim? Am I interrupting? I can…”

“Welcome home, Blair,” I softly interrupt him.

He watches me in stunned silence as I slowly walk across the room towards him. I reach out and remove the hair-tie he’s used to pull his hair back. I deeply inhale the scent of his curls and bury both hands in the silky strands.

Blair’s jacket slides off his arms and onto the floor at our feet.

“Jim?”

As much as I’m enjoying the anticipation, I’ve been anticipating for close to two months, three weeks, one day, four hours, and thirty-two minutes. Enough already.

“I love you, Blair. I need you. And I want you.”

With those softly spoken words, I lower my mouth to his and kiss his lips…then his nose…then his brow.

As I pull his head to my chest, I feel his arms go around me and tighten.

And I hear his happy and contented sigh.


January 2007
 

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