Sweet Kisses Review

Aiden Bates Review Copy
This copy is not allowed to be sold or distributed
Sweet Kisses
Aiden Bates
Part I:
1. A Dash, A Pinch, A Dash
2. Campbells Canteen
3. Making Groceries
4. A Dinner Date
5. Late Night Delight
Part II:
6. Sweet Kisses
7. Staying the Night
8. Out to Brunch
9. Culinary Cabaret
10. Dine & Dash
Part III:
11. Stag Night Delight
12. Home Cooking
13. Hard Work
14. My Gourmet Groom
15. Wedding Cake
Part IV:
16. The Honey Pot
17. The Melting Pot
18. The Watched Pot
19. Bun in the Oven
20. Bakers Dozen
Part I:
1. A Dash, A Pinch, A Dash
Dashiell Reese leaves everything but his knives to his dishwasher

and calls it a day. His knives are for his hands only, but hell clean
them tomorrow morning during prep. Right now his feet are
aching from hustling through a very long dinner rush, and he
wants to sit down at his bar with a drink before he heads home.
Dash hasnt even sat down on one of the tall wooden stools that
line his bar before a drink is handed to him. Reuben, the
bartender, is the closest thing he has to a best friend, and not just
because a good bartender develops that sort of comforting
demeanor to anyone who requests a drink, but because hes so
thoroughly straight that Dash has never even tried to sleep with
him. With that dynamic removed, theyve been able to work
together for years; true equals, with a gentlemanly kind of respect
Dash only had with one other man on Earth, his grandfather.
How was your day, Reuben? Dash says with a nod of thanks.
You clearly know how mine went.
We had one person try to make a scene, said he knew how to
make a drink better than me because he bartended for a summer
in college, so he is surely the expert. Reuben has thick, dark, but
neat eyebrows, and he raises them at Dash with a shrug. Reuben
doesnt drink at all and is the most precise and stable bartender
Dash has ever met. He would have made more money and
brooked less shit as a mathematician, but he says he loves his
work, and he wouldnt do it so well if that wasnt true. He probably
should have been a therapist, but he is a therapist in a way, even
without the certification.
Grahams already gone home? Dash asks. A three-months-new
young waiter, Graham has been Dashs latest crush that he keeps
hoping to find on a night like this when they both linger too long
for One Fine Reason, an irresistible attraction. So far though?
Graham is just a young man who comes to work and then goes
home and doesnt think of the head chef any more than as his
boss. Dash doesnt want to sexually harass anyone, but he does
want to sexually acquaint himself with young Graham. Hes closer
to twenty than thirty still, and Dash is turning thirty-five within the
month. That could easily be a part of his smitten statenostalgia.
Surely Reuben sees it for what it is, but he never gives advice
when it isnt wanted.
Graham left at his quitting time, like he always does, he reports.
Dash smiles at his drink instead of at Reubena wry smile for his
rye whiskey, nothing he needs to burden Reuben with. Dash
wants too freely, and he knows that about himself; he seeks and
seeks and seeks and if he has never found what hes searched
for, thats just fate, and hes still young . . . for now.
Hes still a hopeless romantic though, so when Graham comes
back because he forgot his book (always reading on his breaks,
says he wants to finish the story tonight, cant believe he forgot it),
Dash thinks: kismet! A sign, a fated moment! And when his face
lights up to see Graham come back in and dive beneath the bar to
retrieve his book out of his personal items cubby, Reuben
discreetly steps away and leaves Dash to his fate, however it will
play out.
Hey, Graham, are you busy? Why not stay and have a drink on
me. Ill give you a ride home; we can put your bike in the back
seat.
Actually, Graham begins before hesitating. Hes standing behind
the bar with his mop of curly brown hair like a newsie cap on his
head, biting his plump bottom lip as he scans the bottles of booze,
and then scans Dash, trying to decide if any of it is appealing
enough to stay. Yeah, okay, he concludes. My bikes got a flat
tire anyway. I was going to have to walk it home, a ride would be
much better.
Dash grins deeply as he joins Graham behind the bar saying,
Whatll it be? He always finds a ride with another guy much
better than going home alone.
They end up having too many drinks each for anyone to get
themselves safely home, but thats no concern for Dash once the
rest of the guys leave, and hes feeling bold enough to reach over
and pinch Graham on the cheek (and not on his face). His ass is
just perched so well on the bar stool that Dash cant resist one
friendly little grab at it, and when that pinch is felt Graham is up
like a shot, thrown into Dashs arms, sticking his tongue in Dashs
mouth and filling it up with the sugary taste of liqueur. Dash never
drinks that sort of stuff, but he has no problem licking it off the lips
of this boy.
They move on while they can still do so relatively gracefully
(before theyre too drunk to maintain dignity). Dash grabs a half-
empty bottle to take with him, locks up the restaurant, and orders
a cab through an account he keeps (since he often goes
overboard having this kind of fun). They manage to fit Grahams
bike in the backseat with Dash while Graham sits up front giving
directions, and the agony of that brief separation is finally ended
when theyre parked in front of a boxy little apartment.
They have to drag the bike with them up three flights of stairs,
stopping on every landing to kiss and swap the bike, until theyre
finally at the right door, and Graham has his keys out, but
hesitates before inserting them into the lock.
This might be weird, he says. I mean its definitely going to be
weird, so like, sorry in advance, okay? Dont be mad at me.
What . . . ? Dash begins, wondering what on Earth could
possibly go wrong at this point in the evening, but when Graham
opens his door and leads the bike and his boss inside, his
meaning becomes clear. His apartment is all boxed up, like hes
about to move. He stands awkwardly amidst his cardboard towers
and starts tugging at the sweet curls on his head.
Today was my last day at work, thats why I had to come back for
my book. I, uh . . . I wasnt going to give notice, sorry.
Oh, Dash says. Any particular reason?
Just didnt want to deal with it. I guess you know now though.
Yeah, I do. Dash thought this was the start of something that
would continue. How far away are you moving?
Australia, Graham says.
Australias a long way from New Orleans. Probably too far to even
consider it long-distance; its like finding out someones moving to
the moon, literally out of this world.
Sorry, Graham says again, before freezing up and waiting for
Dashs reaction.
No, youre not sorry, Dash says, opening up his arms. Come
here.
Graham comes to him, and Dash holds him all the more tightly
now that he knows this is most likely the last chance hell get to
do so, and Graham is happy to embrace him back, or at least he
does so with the same tight, squeezing grasp.
Graham peels off his shirt as Dash strips down his pants,
rendering the boy naked in an instant. Dash holds him again
before getting undressed himself, relishing the feel of Graham
naked against his own clothes. Graham is kissing his neck and
telling him more secrets.
I think youre so hot, he says. The first time I saw you I was
almost angry, you just looked so tough, and youre so fast with
those knives, it made me want to be a piece of meat, if only to
have your hands on me.
Then why didnt this happen sooner? Dash wonders, but he sees
no point in talking about it now, he doesnt even want to think right
now, he wants only to feel.
Dash put his hands all over Graham, picked him up and dropped
him down onto his bed (the bed is just about the only thing left
unpacked). He undresses himself and kneels down on the
mattress while Graham looks up at him and reaches to start
stroking his cock. Dash takes his hand and pulls him up into a
sitting position, hugs the boys curly head to his chest where
Graham starts to suck on his nipple. The flick of his tongue makes
Dash hard.
Dash flips Graham over and covers the boys body with his own.
He rubs his stubbled jaw against Grahams neck and shoulders,
making him gasp with pleasant surprise, and then Dash snakes
one hand around Grahams neck, while placing the other at his
ass-crack, to part him for entry. He starts making room with his
thumb, and just when he places the tip of himself at Grahams
opening, Graham moves the hand on his neck up to his mouth to
suck on Dashs fingers.
Dash starts to thrust, sinking deeper and deeper with each fuck,
as Graham sucks and licks his fingers. Dash nuzzles his face into
Grahams fragrant curlsa smell half shampoo, half human, and
soon those curls become damp with their mingling sweat as Dash
seeks and seeks for further reaches of this boy, trying to know
every in and out and pocket he can touch. Though he loves the
feel of Grahams arching spine against his chest, that smooth
back pressed closely to him, he slows and pulls out and tells
Graham with a thick voice, Turn over.
Graham obeys him, but keeps a hold of the hand hes been
sucking on to run it up and down his chest a few times once hes
lying on his back in a barren nest of a thin pillow and a single
sheet.
So rough, he says, rubbing Dashs hand closer and closer to his
lower belly, his thicket of hair, his cock. I can feel the knife scars,
he whispers thorough lips wet and gleaming with saliva. I can
feel the burn marks, the calluses.
Dash kisses the spit off Grahams lips and takes back his rough
hand so he can grab Graham by the dick with it and start jerking
him off. Graham picks up his knees, holds them close to his chest
but spread open, giving Dash full, vulnerable access to his world.
Dash wants to protect him when he sees him like that, wants to fill
him up with himself so that nothing bad can get to him, be a wall
against the world. Right now its mostly a fantasy, however;
Grahams leaving him for the world tomorrow.
Dash will be sad about that later, though. Tomorrows problems
are for the morning light, and while hes living in a good moment,
be it ever so temporary, he means to embrace it.
He sinks himself into Graham again, kisses him as he fucks him
this time, with Graham now sucking his tongue inside, like sweet
ambrosia.
With his body on fire after a few more glides within, Dash must
break their deep kiss to say, Youre making me come, where can
I come?
Pull out, Graham says, breaking his heart a little more, though
theyre clearly both sorry about it. You have to.
Its a wrench to leave the depths of this boy, knowing he wont be
able to reenter that paradise again. Dash pulls out, his come
lands and pools in Grahams bellybutton, but he wont let
Grahams go to waste the same way. If Dash cant stay within
Graham, he wants something of the boy to take in, and before
Graham can finish, Dash lifts his hips and takes his cock into his
mouth, sucking what he can from the boy, and swallowing it
down.
It takes a while to disengage, catch their breaths, and then melt
into sleeping with each other. Theyre moving as slowly as people
who are drugged or who are trying to move about under water.
Dash falls asleep with his head on Grahams squashed pillow,
while Graham rests his head on Dashs chest to use as his pillow,
holding Dashs knuckles to his lips, kissing his fingers as they
doze off. Dash expects to wake up with Graham sucking on his
thumb, like a baby with a fixation, but instead he has the most
miserable task of waking up to a note, alone.
The note says, I had fun last night, but please be gone before
noon. Youre welcome to use anything that isnt packed if you
need to, but I had to get my bike fixed, and I hate goodbyes. Sorry
again, Graham.
As far as Dash is concerned, this note is still a goodbye, its just a
goodbye he has to experience alone; he also hates goodbyes. He
still keeps the note, though. He tears off a corner of the paper to
draw a heart to leave for Graham, and then folds Grahams note
into his wallet. He makes the bed, regretfully rinses out his mouth
with some of Grahams mouthwash, takes one last look around,
and then heads to work. There isnt really time to go home, but
there is time to go take a nap on the cot in the locker room at
work, change his shirt and scrub up a bit with the emergency
supply of toiletries in his locker, and inform Reuben that theyre
going to be a waiter short today, but also that its not his fault.
Ah, well, thats tough for you, Reuben says. Tough for the other
waiters too, but mostly for you. Dash is really tempted to ask for
a drink right now, and work hasnt even started yet. Just tie on
your bandana, get through today, and if you want company
tonight youve got me, and if you dont want company tonight,
youve got alcohol.
Thanks, Dash says, but hes not very enthusiastic about it.
Reuben says hell let the wait staff know theyre one short, says
hell call around to see if anyone who used to work there can sub
in or wants to take on the job for a while, and Dash heads to the
kitchen, to the dirty knives from yesterday he gets to wash in
sadness just thinking about how much Graham liked to watch him
work with them, and he prays for a very busy night so that he
barely has time to think about his feelings. Tonight Dash prefers
the math and geometry of prep, cooking, and plating, and hopes
he never has to deal with a heart muscle ever again unless its
some part of an exotic dish.
2. Campbells Canteen
Its Friday night, and Campbells Canteen doesnt open until noon
on the weekend, because Campbell says so, and its his store,
and he wants to sleep in every once in a while. His sister tells him
hes a fool to work every day of the week. She says, Take
Sunday off, for gods sake or the devils, who cares! Just take a
damn break! She says that, but she also has four kids and still
comes to help out at the store when theyre in school; she never
takes a break. Campbells single and has no kids (yet), and what
else should he do with his time? If he didnt stay busy hed be
bored, and lonely. At least when hes running his store, people
talk to him, and they mostly talk to him about food, and he loves
food.
Campbell Baker owns and runs a specialty food store, a place his
father elevated from his grandfathers corner store, and left for
even higher pursuits to his son. As the neighborhood grows, so
does its taste for the finer things in life, and so does Campbells
Canteen, in quality and in specialty. For the past year or two
since his sister, Saffron, finally got her youngest kid into school,
swore off having any more, and started to help out for extra
casha few new local restaurants started taking hold (half fell
down, but the others are still building), and slowly migrated to
Campbells Canteen for special orders, special occasions,
signature ingredients he could get and hold in reserve for only
them. Its saffron who does the face-to-face dealings best,
chatting at the check-out counter and the civilians who shop with
them (and shes especially good at managing the staff, keep the
static low), but its Campbell who does best with the
temperaments of outliers. He can speak with the oddballs who
hunt for rare food items like black and white truffles, cultivate the
heights of caviar, trade in deep-forest mushrooms and remote
island melons and the like. Those people speak his language, the
language of obsession.
One of those weirdoes is a handsomely somber man named
Alfredo. He does not smile, but his face does tend to melt in
expression under his prominent, dark brows, his high facial
bones, and that thick curl of hair that looks as if it would stay
unruffled in a hurricane (Alfredo might even be able to confirm
that theory, it being New Orleans and all). He is not a professional
chef, but he is an extremely preferential connoisseur. He gets a
very brief and to-the-point phone call every time a particularly
delectable fish of any kind comes aroundsashimi to crawdad, it
was all good enough for him, if it was good enough. Campbell has
made it known to all his fish suppliers that hes always interested
in special finds . . . if only to have a reason to call Alfredo and see
him walk into his shop again.
Campbells Canteen has a mixed dcorthree generations have
owned it, after allthree decades of style, and three very different
men. The ceiling looks the oldest, pressed tin, but it was a
nostalgic edition by Campbells dad. Campbell had the dark wood
floor put down, but the pictures decorating the signs and labels
are all of Grandpas timethe neighborhood as it used to be and
Grandpa in a seriously befouled apron. Alfredo walks through the
doors, takes only one turn at the center aisle that leads right back
to the meat counter where Campbell likes to stay encased and
slightly raised away from the stores main floorhes shorter than
most people on the ground, but Campbells almost always taller
from up here, or at least pleasantly on the same level as tall men
like Alfredo, eye to eye.
He begins his long walk down the aisle now (yes, Campbell is
romantic about the notion of some beautiful man coming to him
down this aisle just for him, and yes, hes aware of the irony that
the main aisle is a frozen food aisle with some of the most
generic, uninteresting items they have in its coolersit just makes
sure Alfredo isnt distracted by the food, though he does have to
weave rather difficultly through some of Campbells other
customers today). Campbell is sure to see him make this whole
journey whenever Saffron is up front to text him a warning, as she
is this afternoon. Alfredo arrives, the sleeves of his dress shirt
rolled up against the heat of the day outside now that work is
over, his dark-haired forearms lifting up like he might be reaching
to embrace Campbell, but hes only resting them on the top of the
refrigerated counter, probably just cooling off.
You have something for me? Alfredo asks. Hes some kind of
lawyer. Saffrons Googled his name and knows his title, but
whatever kind of lawyer he is, he isnt the kind that performs for
juries.
He probably sits at a desk and looks at case-law all day, like a
professional nerd, but a corporate nerd, but a do-gooder
corporate nerd, like maybe he does like estate planning,
something nice or at least nicer than crime, or divorce, but nothing
too much to take, like family law and poor people advocacy. I
cant tell if I like him or hate him, really. Is he Clark Kent by day
with those looks and a hero by night, or just some regular statue
of a rich, smart guy who never thinks of anyone but himself
because why on Earth would he ever have to?
When Saffron went into that rant, Campbell tried to remind her
that she didnt actually know him at all, she was just imagining
him.
Oh, like you dont spend any time imagining him, Im so sure.
Older sis, she can always see right through her baby brother. She
can still make him blush by knowing his private thoughts so well;
even Alfredo hasnt caused him to blush in real life yet
Campbells thoughts of Alfredo bring a blush (a swoon!), but
Alfredo in the flesh is always so inscrutable that Campbell
wonders about any aspect of his private personality. Is he a man
for women or a man for men? Is he even single? No wedding
band means nothing, for all Campbell knows he wears a loved
ones wedding band on a chain around his neck, nestled in the
glimmering soft hair that runs up his arms, is shaved just barely
off his face (always a bit of a shadow on him, even in the
morning), and who knows where else over his body. Campbell
certainly does imagine that and so much more about Alfredo.
Ive tried this myself, just a taste to check the quality, a cut of
salmon. Never as orangey-pink as a Gulf Coast sunset when it
isnt dyed for perception, but what it looks like is irrelevant to
AlfredoCampbell brings the slice of meat up to the counter, gets
out a clean knife, a cupped lettuce leaf instead of a plate or paper
cup, and draws a slim piece off, presenting it to Alfredo. Hed do
anything to drop the morsel into his mouth and have his fingers
follow after it. Campbell doesnt want to be cannibalized or
anything so extreme, but he does want to be consumed in a way
(any way Alfredo would think of, certainlythe mans a
gourmand, Campbell would trust him completely with his own
tender flesh as much as Alfredo trusts Campbells judgments with
meats).
Alfredo flips the piece of soft, raw salmon right onto the length of
his tongue. He presses his mouth around it, not chewing as much
as infusing it into the membranes of his mouth. Hes never done
anything so revealing as moan or grunt when eating something
delectable, but the muscles of his face . . . they relax to the way
his face must look in peaceful sleep. Campbell has imagined that
as well; not just being consumed by Alfredo, but sleeping with him
too, dreaming.
Excellent, Alfredo says. Youve done me a great service again.
Campbell smiles but doesnt dare try to brush that praise off with
modestyhe would start stuttering like he often did as a kid but
still manages to do when hes flustered now. Its like if his hair
wasnt covered for health regulations, hed be twisting his
blondish, shoulder-length hair, like the kind of girl even Saffron
has never been, the kind who turns stupid with lovewhen
Saffron loves, shes smart, precise, pragmatic, she becomes a
master chess player with men, women, her friends, her kidsa
thousand kinds of love, and so many pairs to make on the board,
though as of yet she has yet to place her little brotherhes been
a pawn at the edge of the board all his life, but Saffron says,
What life! I swear I must have at least one kid older than you
sometimes, youre such a baby, barely thirty!
Thirty-one, he reminds her sullenly when she goes on this rant.
Farther and farther from anyones baby every day, thats what
Campbell is.
I know that, you big, dumb baby, who the heck plans your party
every year? Then shell pinch his cheek just to kiss the pinch
away, often getting her own hair stuck in her lip gloss when she
doesthe hair and the lip gloss are both always bright. Saffron
was named for her hair and its always some warm color,
sometimes redder, sometimes yellower, depending on if shes
pregnant, or been spending a lot of time in the sun, and her lips
are always painted with a matching, candied gooshe lays a
Tequila Sunrise-looking kiss-print on everyone she gives a
smooch.
To Alfredo, Campbell says with a flourish: I have the whole fish.
Not the whole fish still attached to the head and bones, but every
part of the fish Alfredo will want (Campbell has nimble hands with
a flaying knife; he leaves nothing desirable behind). Campbell
brings it out from under the counter already resting on waxed
paper, ready to wrap. He charges Alfredo the weight as if it were
a normal sale, and whatever price he was asked to obtain it as
preparation on the bill, and Alfredo pays it without question.
They have a very honest working exchange. Campbell always
wants to exchange more.
Tonight, after three prophetic texts from his sister (bet hes
leaning on the counter isnt he, followed by, bet he just swallowed
that piece of meat whole, and then, if he thanks you for your
service why dont you service him with your mouth and I dont
mean just saying no problem, just doing my job?), Campbell
takes a bold new step. He steps down.
Out of the cool little tower of his meat counter, and down onto the
floor with Alfredo. He brings the package and receipt with him,
instead of handing them down from on-high, and holds them close
so that Alfredo will have to reach for them again. Campbell backs
up until they are in a niche beside the dairy product shelves and
the wall, with Alfredos broad body blocking them from anyones
observation of this exchange.
Here you are, Campbell says, but hes speaking in riddles
Alfredo isnt hearing; he doesnt hold out the salmon.
Thank you very much, Alfredo says, taking the package and
then stopping still when Campbells hand touches his, then
clutches his, and then moves up his arm to grasp lightly at his
neck, and to pull himself up for a kiss.
The kiss is allowed. For a brief moment it is allowed, and in that
instance, Campbell feels a true victory, feels a success. He is
kissing Alfredo! Still kissing him! It isnt an attempt rebuffed, its
the beginning of something he finally had the courage to start,
and now that its begun surely Alfredo will take the lead.
And Alfredo does! For a moment. His lips press back against
Campbells, and then . . . thats all. They press back to push him
away, and then they let go. Then Alfredo takes Campbells hand
off his shoulder and kisses the knuckles of it, but with the tightest
lips and the sternest face, and when Campbell looks into his eyes
for an explanation, Alfredo just shakes his head.
He lets Campbell down gently. He gives back Campbells hand
and moves his shoulders so he is resting propped against the wall
in case hes about to crumble (which he is). When Alfredo leaves,
Campbell cant seem to move, cant even turn his back to the
store and stand with his nose in the corner like a dunce, like the
dunce he is, so at least his heart-breaking face will be hidden
from his customers.
It doesnt take long, but it certainly feels like an eternity, before
Saffron comes to find him. He doesnt know how she knewif
she saw Alfredo leaving and could read his face, if shed texted
her brother something he would have definitely responded to if
hed been capable, or if she just had one of those strikes of
intuition she sometimes gets, and shows up on a bad day with a
snack or a happy child or some other pleasant distraction that
makes all the cares melt away.
When he sees his sister coming towards him, then Campbell can
turn to hide. His face falls apart into his hands, his tears seem to
pump hot and vital right out of his heart.
Saffron wraps her arms over him like a comforting blanket.
No need for shame or sadness, my duckling! You were brave,
and he was kind, wasnt he? This wasnt a mistake, this was a
question! Respectfully asked and respectfully answered, and if
the answer is no and you wanted a yes, thats sad but its not this
sad, Campbell. You feel too much.
That last part Campbell understands, thats something he doesnt
need to be told: he feels too much and he always hasthats why
he prefers to stand in a cooler over the place that should feel like
home to him because its where his family has been for
generations, what they do. Saffron walks around this place like its
a huge parlor full of her old friends sometimes, and Campbell
knows hed wreck the whole place without her, because hes too
timid to go from aisle to aisle questioning people and checking
stock and taking charge . . . it terrifies him to be in charge.
I love you, Saffron, he says. Shes the only person hes said that
to, besides his nieces and nephews, for years since their last
parent died. Dad went first, mom tended the store long enough for
Campbell to limp to age and take over, and now its just Campbell
and Saffron, and her kids to leave the store to, because Campbell
cant see how hell have any of his own at this rate.
If only the store could be his baby! But thats not what this place
is, its a gift to give to babies, a means of support for them to grow
along with and then pass to the next. Campbell just doesnt have
any next.
3. Making Groceries
Dash, like many people who cook for a living, often eats badly in
his own life. Or not so much badly, he doesnt exactly poison
himself, but he does eat lazily. After standing in a huge, busy
restaurant kitchen all day, he isnt exactly anxious to go home to
his little linoleum-floored hallway of a kitchen at home and get
creative. He partakes in the staff meals that often incorporate the
leftovers from the previous weeks menu, and usually thats
enough real cooking for him each weekif he has enough time
off to get hungry in between work and sleep (what are those
hours called again? Life?), he just wants to get it taken care of as
quickly as possible. He doesnt have the set schedule of someone
who can enjoy the kinds of food that expire (fresh foods, dairy
products, all that stuff) so usually its just frozen meals and to-go
snacks for him. And yet even maintaining that pathetic level of
food supply is sometimes beyond him, like when hes too busy
pining after an absent waiter, and only really notices hes out of
food when he runs out of beer and checks everywhereno beer
and no nothing in his cupboards, just an extremely old bag of
broccoli florets in the freezer, because even as an adult who can
saut any vegetable to delicious perfection, he still resists them
out of childish habit; vegetables are the last to be eaten every
time.
Frozen crap with veggies in it, is what Dash texts to himself as a
grocery list and decides to complete two chores with one trip by
checking out Campbells Canteen during this food run. He hears
good things from his regular customers, and once or twice a good
review by the handful of fellow chefs he can stand (hard to find a
true friend among ones total equalstheres often too much
jealousy, judgment, or just boredom at meeting someone so like
oneself there isnt much use in getting to know them, since youre
already with your own acquaintance all the time). Hes been
meaning to check the place out in case it can inspire or facilitate
new dishes for his restauranthe can pick up a few things for
himself while hes at it, though his own shopping will continue to
be done mostly at gas stations and corner stores, its just easier
that way.
So Dash drags his pathetic carcass into Campbells Canteen one
mid-morning, in the grace period between when this place opens
and when his own place requires him, and he keeps his
sunglasses on the whole time, not because he cant stand the
light, but because he knows his eyes are bloodshot with drink and
bad sleep, and he doesnt feel like revealing himself right now. He
tours the outer aisles first, just taking stock of what kind of stuff is
there, letting his mind wander over what might be useful, might
look good and taste good on one of his plates, and he doesnt
stray into the center aisle until his stomach turns over with hunger
and he remembers the reason that prompted him to come here.
One big long aisle of frozen food, perfect! The place looks like
every movie where they freeze people for long distance space
travel: everyone into a glass refrigerator and dont look alive.
Dash has a shopping basket under one arm and just starts piling
the cheap brands he recognizes into it: pizza-type things be they
bites or pockets or mini rounds, whatever and those sad meals
that come frozen in a brick in a plastic little pan (you dont even
need to touch a plate, and in fact, if you werent at risk of burning
your mouth, you might not need utensils either, you could just fold
the plastic thing into a little funnel and drink down your meal like
something chunky out of a cake decorating bag, who cares?).
With that image in his mind, Dash sees the dessert baskets at the
end of the aisle, the one closest to the heart of the place, the
meat counter . . . maybe after Dash decides on what syrupy sugar
rush he wants to take home for hangovers that beg for cold sugar
treats the morning after hell stop and pick up a steak or
something, like an adult with some self-respect (like someone
else, because today he feels like a loser).
Its when he scatters some ice cream cones wrapped in paper
over his other items like sprinkles that Dash feels another hand
start to shut the freezer door on him. Hes almost too defeated to
say, Oh, fuck you, but hes prepared to make the effort until he
sees whos done it.
The guys dressed in white, with a hair net and white bandana tied
over that, tied like a headscarf instead of a sweat band, the way
Dash wears them standing on the line, leaning over the stovetop.
Chef, says this short, blond guy, addressing Dash by his trade
like its his name.
Butcher?
More like grocer, the guy says, beckoning Dash towards his
meat counter where he steps up through a half door and a slight
bit above Dash now. I dont like to judge the tastes of my
customers, he continues, but I welcome all chefs to judge mine.
The guy holds up one finger, ducks beneath the counter, and
starts assembling a sort of painters palette of bites and schmears
and drizzles of oils and whatnot. Dash is too bleary-eyed to look
very closely, but he does at last raise his sunglasses to watch
Campbells hands flutter around, spinning that plate like hes
decorating a cake on a Lazy Susan. Dash starts to smilehe
always thinks these artisanal types are sweet, a little soft unless
they get burned as much as he does, like he wouldnt smile this
way at a candlestick maker at their smeltingbut he is amused
by . . .
Whats your name?
Campbell Baker, owner of Campbells Canteen. He makes a
gesture like shaking hands that Dash mimes back at him, though
hes wearing a glove and touching food and they both know
better.
Dashiell Reese, owner of Simmer Down.
Oh, that place! Ive never been to that restaurant, but I hear
pretty good things.
I would have same the said about your store before I walked in
today, Dash tells him.
Maybe Ill come by some time, return the favor, Campbell says,
as he leans forward and presents Dash with his sample tray.
Theres not much aroma, what with everything on the plate being
cold (even the items that were previously seared), but each bite,
and the flavor-enhancing dip assigned to it, does a wonderful
kindness to Dash. Nutrients are restored to him, protein and
vitamins and hydration, just the chemical components of what
hes eating relieve his hangover almost to the point of a cure. That
mercy is going on underneath the taste of it all thoughDash
could probably suss out the recipe of most of these dips if he felt
like analyzing them at the moment, but that sort of focus can
come later; for now he just wants to enjoy them for what they do
to these wonderful slices of meat. Salmon with the texture of
butter touched with some savory oil; the jellied texture of raw tuna
coming with a dollop of dense, creamy sauce; a quivering bit of
veal with something surprisingly citric on the back end of it, and
two more bites combineda curled shrimp on a platform of crab
meat, drizzled with some teriyaki home-brew, and just enough to
bite down on and chew for a bit, which Dash appreciates; he cant
politely speak with a full mouth, and he doesnt know yet what to
say.
Campbell waits patiently, gazing at Dashs reaction the same way
one might watch a child attempt a summersaultthis may take a
while but it means so much to them to get it right, so you wait to
be amazed by what you already expect to see happen.
That was . . . the best thing thats happened to me all week,
Dash admits. Maybe even in the past month, honestly.
Campbells face breaks into a grinhe must not hear it put quite
like that too often, and he seems to appreciate the surprise.
I do special orders for restaurants, should you be interested as a
business man, but I also provide real food far and above what
youve got in that basket there, just keep that in mind.
You know chefs dont eat well unless theyre eating out, right?
We only cook when were paid to do it, and we only eat well-
cooked food when we pay someone else to do it, its a little
counter-intuitive, but its true.
Oh, I know. Youre not the first chef to walk in here, place a
decent order for his customers, but buy that sort of garbage for
himself, Campbell says, gesturing to the shopping basket at
Dashs feet.
Hey, now, thats my garbage; I like my garbage, Dash says,
picking up the basket again, aware that any more dawdling will
leave him with soggy garbage, and then later: refrozen and
frostbitten garbage. I better get this stuff home before it melts,
Dash starts to say as a way to exit, but hesitates when he realizes
that he wants to stay. How to satisfy both needs?
All right, you have a good one, Campbell says with a wave, but
Dash leans closer to the counter and motions for Campbell to
come forward so he doesnt have to blare this idea to the whole
store.
This has got me in the mood for real food, but I hate going out to
restaurants alone, I just feel like Im on break from work, it sort of
defeats the point of treating myself. So . . . which is a place you
like to eat? And would you join me for dinner there?
The question stuns Campbell for a moment, just long enough for
Dash to be surprised too, at his own daring. Wasnt he just in the
pit of despair because of the brief encounter with Graham? What
is he, some kind of idiot who makes the same mistake over and
over again, thinking this time will be different? Thats a gamblers
skewed logic, isnt it? Or is he really just such a romantic fool that
one kind gesture, one polite smile, is all it takes to turn him into a
sappy puppy in an instant?
Youre asking me on a date? Campbell asks, disbelief all over
his face.
Dash is sure that hes mistaken Campbells somewhat effete care
for an orientation he doesnt have, that hes made a huge faux
pas and now his only hope is to be honest and try to survive the
embarrassing fallout long enough to buy his garbage and limp
home for more pit of despair time.
Apparently I am, Dash says, prepared next to apologize, but
hes interrupted before he can.
Yeah, I want that, I mean . . . Now Campbell is just as flustered
as Dash, stuttering without any idea what to do with his hands, or
where to go next.
Dash heard a yeah so his confidence has suddenly come flooding
back, and he has an idea to calm Campbell down.
So its a deal, then, Dash says, reaching up over the counter to
offer his own hand. Lets shake on it.
Campbell laughs a little nervously, but takes his hand and relaxes
now that he has a clear task to complete. Campbells hand isnt
exactly soft, more like supple, like he keeps them well-lotioned.
Dash gives it a firm squeeze and then lets go, but Campbell
doesnt release the same way Dash does, he sort of slides his
hand out of Dashs, stroking the palm and feeling the calluses and
scars that Graham liked so well. Hopefully Campbell likes them
too.
So where should we go? Dash asks. And where should I pick
you up? And what will you want for breakfast? And when shall we
set the wedding date?
My favorite . . . well, its not very fancy. I mean, more of a diner
than a restaurant, they dont get creative, but they do make
everything with real ingredientsfish caught in the morning,
vegetables and spices grown out back, it makes a real
difference.
Dash laughs, I agree! You dont have to convince me that good
ingredients matter in food.
I mean, Campbell says with a bit of an impish smirk on his face,
before glancing pointedly at Dashs basket of frozen garbage
bachelor meals and finishing, are you sure about that?
Now Dash is laughing even harder. Campbell tells him he can be
free just about any night, that his sister will cover for him to close
up the store, and Dash tells him that his actual weekend is
Tuesday and Wednesday, that the sous chef takes over on the
slower nights to give Dash some time to drink (thats mostly what
hes been doing lately with his free time, at least), and they agree:
Tuesday night. Meet up here at five to drive out a ways from the
tourist-center bits of the city and into the parts where people know
good from bad when it comes to poboys and muffalettas and fried
gator tail, if they know that people eat such things at all. See you
then.
Dash is checked out by a woman with reddish-blond hair who has
Saffron on her name-tag; Dash is almost 100% sure that this is
the sister hes heard of, but he doesnt try to introduce himself
what the hell would he say? Hello maam, your little brother wants
to be ravished, wouldnt you say? You know what, dont tell me,
Ill find out the hard way? Ugh, no. He avoids eye-contact,
probably comes off as either rude or mentally impaired, but he
quickly hides behind his sunglasses again, and walks fast when
hes free.
And free is exactly how he feels when he steps out into the
oppressive, swampy air; free and quite young and somehow
healthier, like everything about his mind and body has somehow
been improved by meeting Campbell. He could try to attribute
some of his improvement to having a good snack. But hes
enough of an expert on food to know that nothing tastes this
good; Dash is filled with something else, something comforting
but unburdensomesomething right.
4. Dinner Date
The second Dash walks out of Campbells Canteen, Campbell

starts to have a meltdown. Literally his skin feels like its blushing
all over, but not a charming, rosy sort of blush, more like the kind
of heat that means youve been in the sun too long already; its
too late, youre burned no matter what you do going forward, and
its going to blister.
Hes usually always cold and clammy back here, he spends his
day essentially in a large refrigerator, and even this spot, and
pressing his face and neck to any surface of glass or metal, cant
take the sting off his skin. Hes not in this state for long before
Saffron texts him to say, Cute customer, got a lot of frozen food,
did you spot this one? When he starts to answer her and then
pauses, she comes back within five minutes.
What happened? she asks, hand on one hip the way she started
standing after she had babies to holdyou set them on one hip
and just keep an arm around them, no worries, theyre not going
anywhere. Campbell was never quite so good at holding her kids
with that method when they were babies, but she swears itll be
different with his own, and with this he believes her: she never
stood like that before she carried those kids and her body
changed, and the same process will transform Campbells body
too . . . someday. But of course before that can happen: first
comes love, then comes marriage, and Campbells been feeling
woefully behind on that timeline lately.
Um, Campbell says, but his sister is grinning through her glossy
lips at him already.
You did see that guy, didnt you? A little scrubby-looking with the
stubble but good body, happy-looking bone-structure on the face,
didnt get a look at his eyes though. What color are they? Whats
his name?
His eyes were brown, and kind as a fawns, but Campbell doesnt
say that. Instead he takes a deep breath, Dash.
Nice one, thats a really good one, really dashing, Saffron says,
her face about to burst with amusement.
Oh, please dont even start with that sort of stuff, Im dying over
here. He feels a strange sort of buyers remorsehe said yes,
and he got no phone number to chicken out and cancel with, so
he has to see Dash again, its inevitable, and why why did he
agree to a date with a stranger? Just because hes a handsome
stranger? Serial killers can be handsome too; they do it all the
time.
Honey bunny bro, I saw him too, I practically met him, the dude
seems like a total mouse. Did you mention you had a sister here?
I think he figured out who I was and he clammed up and started to
fidget, it was precious, give this a try! If he at all displeases you,
Ill kill him, grind him up, and we can serve him to my children has
hamburgers, its no big deal.
That gets Campbell laughing, thankfully. First because her tone is
totally matter-of-fact (as if he needed more proof that people can
be ruthless and pretty at the same time, here comes his big
sister), and second because she means it in a way, shes that
protective of everyone who relies on her. Shes not vicious, she
doesnt say anything against Alfredo for example, but shell brook
no cruelty or malice against her ducklings (that term includes
everyone from her kids, to her younger brother, to other peoples
kids if she feels theyre being underserved by other nearby adults,
to anyone crying when they dont want to be crying, and any
confused old person on the planet).
Saffron pulls Campbell into a hug because his laugh started to
edge into hysterical tears territory, and Campbell knows that level
of drama is unnecessary, but his emotions never listen to logic.
He starts telling Saffron the facts:
He said hed pick me up here and take me wherever I wanted to
go for dinner.
Excellent, he sounds like the smartest man alive for that idea.
Campbell hiccups a laugh and lets Saffron wave down someone
to take over his counter so she can walk them into the break room
for a cup of tea and hot cocoa (tea for her, chocolate for
Campbell).
Hes never been to The Briny Diner, do you think hell hate how
run-down it looks? I doubt hes into, like, kitsch and shit.
Campbell rarely swears, thats how flustered he is about this
strange turn of events. Saffron purses her lips at him.
Hes a cook, or at least he looked like one, right? Hell like the
food enough to not complain about the rest. That places ugliness
is its best charm, it keeps the tourists away.
Hes a chef, has his own restaurant. Simmer Down.
Youre lucky I know that place or Id think you were giving me an
order! I ate there once, I didnt barf or anything, so it must have
been done right!
Ill be sure to give him that good review, you should be food
critic, Campbell tells her, calm now with his cocoa, and dishing
with his sister.
I was born an everything critic, you know that.
Campbell does know that.
In fact, for the rest of the weekend and the hours before his date
finally happens, Campbell relies on his sister to tell him what to do
in all aspects of his life. She tells him how to compartmentalize his
feelings so he can still work effectively (you want to keep an
unbent paper clip in your pocket to stab your palm with; physical
pain, thatll distract from your other kinds of feelings) and gives
him a list of things he can say if there are awkward gaps in
conversation (go straight to amusing and revealingfavorite
animal you knew as a kid, or the scar you have with the best story
behind it, find out more about him but in a pleasant waydont
talk about grandparents, theyre usually dead, dont talk about fun
drunk stories, because there often nasty ones as well, and that
man was clearly hungover and it was not his first day at that
rodeo). She even picked out his outfit and did his hair on the day
of the date. Nothing fancy with the hair, she just blow-dries some
mousse through his hair and tells him not to twist it up when he
gets nervous.
Take your stabbin paperclip or else twist a napkin, dont grease
up your pretty hair.
Okay, Campbell says as they stand up front at the registers so
they can see Dash approach, and indeed they spot him. Campbell
hushes up, but Saffron keeps talking.
Cars modest but looks clean and un-busted, thats all fine. He
dressed right for the nightits a diner, and its always hot as the
devils butt crack in this state, so thats a good call with short
sleeves, open collar, loose slacks but not shorts, good for him.
Those are Crocs hes got on his feet but not the rubber, goofy
ones that are for children only if you ask me, and hes on his feet
all day, theres an exception for professions: chefs, waitresses,
nurses, flight attendants, anyone who has to run around serving
people. Kid, I think youre cleared to like this one. If he doesnt
screw up, he might really be a good one.
That makes me feel like my heart is going to throw up, Campbell
tells her.
Lovesick! Its already happening. Good luck! And with that, she
nudges him out the door into what will soon be a big, gaudy
sunset to watch while they eat.
Dash has his sunglasses on again, but only for driving against the
setting sun; he whips them off when he sees Campbell walking
toward him and smiles. Nice smile, either the result of braces or
luck, and his face is shaved but his beard still visible under the
skin, and his eyes are clear and un-bloodshot today, and he holds
out his hand to shake again.
A deals a deal, he says as a joke. Campbell shakes his hand
and is reluctant to drop it (its as comforting holding Dashs hand
as putting on a baseball glovesoft yet still protective), and is
happily surprised when Dash reaches for his other hand, and
holds his fingers in a bundle like an old world suitor, and starts
walking hand-in-hand with Campbell towards his car. Hows your
day been? he asks.
Weird, Campbell says. My sisters been as anxious about this
date as I am. Ill be honest with you, if you turn around right now
and look at the store youll probably see her with her face pressed
to the glass and cheeringshe loves sweet stuff like hand-
holding.
I love sweet stuff too, Dash says, still smiling, and not going into
any further detail. He opens the passenger-side door for
Campbell, but doesnt glom on so much he stays to close it. They
drive off with Campbell giving careful directions to this back-water
little diner.
The Briny Diner isnt even on a paved road, but its near enough
to one that it hasnt gone completely under water financially (itll
be a hurricane that does that). The building is solid but the
dressing on itthe roof and the walls and the ceiling? All of it
chipped, dinged, and weathered.
I know its not much to look at, Campbell says as they arrive. I
hear your restaurant is really tastefully decorated and I
I think my restaurant looks like a show room in a funeral home, I
try to avoid the dining room when at all possible, Dash says,
parking and springing out of the car. My bar tender, hes also my
best friend, Ruebenhes the one who designed the place, he
had his reasons and its always complimented, but I come in and
out through the kitchen where its more my scene.
Utilitarian? Campbell guesses. And yet chaotic?
Dash gives Campbell the widest grin so far and says, Youre
playing my song.
Luckily Dash takes charge when requesting a table, which makes
sure hes busy enough to miss seeing Campbell blush and swoon
a bit. Youre playing my song . . . Campbell wonders, does Dash
like dancing? Or music? Maybe he plays an instrument? He
wants to know everything about him; he is so happy his sister
gave him tips on how to pry.
First off, once theyre seated, Campbell asks, So what do you
feel like eating?
Dash scans the menu once, fast, and says, Oh, this is a
challenge.
Campbell wonders briefly, painfully, if the date is already ruined
before Dash speaks again.
I physically cant eat half of this, but I want to, if the qualitys as
good as you say, and boy do you know quality with what you gave
me on that sample tray. What do you recommend?
OH NO. Campbell prepared questions, not answers; now he
doesnt know what to say.
Dash comes to the rescue again: I dont want to give you more
reason to judge my garbage palate even more, but I'm really
looking at the chipped beef on Texas toast and . . . ooh that
Farmers Skillet Breakfast. I want to eat a jumbled pile of food, I
guess.
Campbell almost giggles aloud, but holds it in. He says, Well
order both and share. He prefers what he likes on the menu,
usually a big stack of pancakes and every kind of syrup in the
joint, but hes had that enough times already, and he wants to
share with Dash.
They order, and they moon in silence until their order arrives, just
feasting their eyes on one another, and when the food shows up
they each take up forks and just peck and stab and scoop
between both plates, already so comfortable sharing.
Its only after they clean each plate and order coffee that they get
to speak again. Campbell is more comfortable now, or at least too
busy with digesting to spare any energy for anxiety. He notices
that Dash drinks his coffee black while he turns his cup into a
cream and sugar situation, but theres no reason to care about
differences when theyre both on the same page every time their
eyes meet.
I like the food here, Dash says.
I like you, Campbell confesses. Hes too full to worry at the
moment; it feels more important to speak simply and honestly.
Im glad, Dash says, taking a sip and licking his lips afterwards.
I didnt drive all the way out here to like myself, after all.
Campbell laughs now without averting his gaze. He notices the
diner is emptying out and knows this portion of the night should
end soon, but he cant let it go without saying, Id like to kiss you
before we say goodnight, whenever that is.
Dash smiles with only one side of his mouth this time, and nods
for the check.
They get into the car again without comment, and drive all the
way back to the city without comment, until its time for Campbell
to start giving directions to his home. Campbell lives in a garage
apartment, separate from his landladys main home, but still
basically a studio apartment and not a real one: its one room for
one man, and Campbell wont invite a second man into that space
on a first date (though his body certainly wouldnt say no to it).
Dash gets out and walks with Campbell to the door, taking up his
hand again and this time lacing their fingers together. When they
arrive under the unflattering flood-lit entrance to a garage (a side
door, not the rolling door, thank goodness for dignity), Dash picks
up both of Campbells hands, and brings them together to his lips.
That better not be my kiss, Campbell says. I want to kiss back.
I know you do, Dash whispers, touching Campbells face, and
reading his features, before ducking towards him for the lightest
kind of kiss; its a brush at first, and then a slow peck, and then a
real kiss, and then a soul kiss.
When Dashs tongue darts into Campbells mouth he whimpers.
Not a groan or a hurrah, but this weak little mewling sound he
hadnt meant to let out, but that sound brings Dashs tough hands
to the rescueto slide up his back and steady each side of his
face, and hold him still for one damn fine kiss.
Their mouths break apart because they need to breathe, and that
is the only reason that makes Campbell want to stop. They
breathe bits of the same air back and forth for a long moment, just
refusing to part any further. Then Dash takes an extra deep
breath to loosen his body into letting go of Campbell. Its not okay,
but it is right; theyll meet again soon, and they both know it.
You should . . . come to my restaurant, Dash says. Bring . . .
your sister, bring any guest. Let me . . . impress you.
Campbell nods earnestly (nearly falls over doing it, too) and only
manages to say, Its a date.
Dash coughs up a laugh, makes a sketchy salute, and then
leaves.
Campbell turns into the embrace of his rooms air conditioning,
and crashes onto his bed before showering and changing, which
he never does, except that tonight its just too unimportantits
irrelevant compared to the bliss inside of him.
5. Late Night Delight
Dash drives home with a hard-on so prominent and sturdy he

feels like hes driving a stick-shift. He knows hes doing the
gentlemanly thing, being courteous and respectful by the book,
but that doesnt mean that his desire disappears at will. What he
wants to do is turn his car around and kick in Campbells door and
crush him with an embrace. He knows every detail about how it
would go down, and he somehow manages to arrive home before
he fully explores that knowledge.
Dashs apartment is on the second story of a house that was
converted into two apartmentshis downstairs neighbors come
and go, but Dash is home so rarely he doesnt track whos there.
He drags himself up the stairs and opens his pants the second
the door is closed. He doesnt even move further into his
apartment, just slides to the floor, closes his eyes, and retreats
into his fantasies.
He got a glance at Campbells bed through the doorhow good it
would have felt to throw Campbell into that nest of pillows and
hold him down. Too crush his face into all that comfort and tug
down his pants to reveal just his ass, then part those sweet
cheeks and drive right into him. Dash wants to see that man
writhe, wants to see him adjust to fit Dash inside of him, wants to
feel his body shake with the intrusion, tremble around him . . .
Dash wants to hear him moan for more.
Dash comes quickly into the palm of his hand, so quick to finish
because hes so wound up. He stays slumped on the floor until
his breath evens out, then realizes hell have to spend the rest of
the evening resisting the urge to call Campbell. It will be an
absolutely Herculean task.
Dash takes a hot shower, stroking himself contemplatively all the
while, and then he lays down on his couch naked to run the
scenario over again at his leisure. It would be a delicious sin to
really grab Campbell by his hair and just take himdrag him
close, practically lift him off his feet for a kiss, and then lick down
his neck until he hit clothes. Would he take them off himself? But
then hed have to let go of Campbells hair and he doesnt want to
do that. Better make him undress himself.
Campbell would obey his command and start to unbutton (in this
scenario he definitely has a button down shirt on because Dash is
not dropping his hair)the shirt slips off, and then Campbell
unzips his pants, but thats when Dash would swat his hands
away and reach into the underwear himself, to cup and fondle and
uncover, and then? Dash pauses to think of what he would do
next, opens his eyes to try and picture it physically happening
around him, and not just watching it as a movie in his head. If
Campbell was half-naked and held before him . . . Dash would
want to be naked too.
So Campbells next command is to start stripping Dash, and
when he opens the shirt (another button down) and gets to the
waist, Dash lowers the hand holding his hair so that Campbell can
drag his pants to the floor and then be at the perfect kneeling
height for worshipping his cock.
Campbell would probably . . . hed obviously be very tender with
his lovers cock. He wouldnt just start swallowing and throating it,
hed probably never do that on his own, hed have to be rammed
to take it that deep, but the fantasy wasnt there yet. No,
Campbells a connoisseur, hes a gourmand with a refined palate,
he would kiss it first, he would taste it, flutter his lips around it, and
then lick. It would be slow, maddeningly slow, and Dash would let
it torment for only so long. Once Campbell took it in enough times
and it was good and coated with saliva he would start to thrust.
Easy at first, and watching for any signs of discomforta wince or
a gagbecause hed still be holding Campbells head in place,
and he wouldnt want to go too far.
Eventually Dash would have to let go of the hairhed pull out
and release the locks at the same time hopefully leaving
Campbell woozy and swaying, and then snatch him up again, but
this time under his arms. Stand him up, spin him around, stomp
his pants off him and leave them on the floor as he marched
Campbell into the bedroom. There he could bend him over, tell
him to bite down on a pillow, hold the mans thin wrists together
across the middle of his back, and put his own hand right up the
back of him, from knee to tailbone, like running a credit card
through a charge slot, making Campbell gasp.
Lube would appear magically somehow, just be right within
reaching distance so Dash wouldnt have to let Campbell go
againits important to the fantasy that Dash always has a hold
of his man, he doesnt have to worry about where the lube comes
from in fantasy, just so long as he knows Campbell is slick
enough to sink into because hed want to go in deep. The deepest
would never feel far enough with this entrance, hed long to have
his own body sucked in and turned inside-out in the process, to
have his whole self under Campbells skin and controlling his
movements like a puppet-master.
And Campbell would moan, he would lift up on his toes and he
would clench the sheets in his fist, and hed say, Yessss, a long
hiss like the one thing hes been waiting a lifetime for finally
arrived.
Dash comes all over himself after that, and after lingering a while
with the images in his head, he hops through another quick
shower, then has a hard time falling asleephis bodys tired but
his mind is racing, but he manages to fall into vivid, swirling,
restless sleep, and shows up to work looking exhausted on his
day off.
Here to brag? Reuben asks with a smile when he seems him
come up to the bar. You look like you didnt get much sleep last
night.
I didnt, Dash admits. Too sexually frustrated.
Too bad, man, not a match? You seemed so sure he could be
the one when last I saw you.
A perfect match, so perfect Im trying to be a goddamn
gentleman about it, which is killing me.
Reuben laughs, and sets out an empty glass and says, What am
I pouring in here?
Got any strychnine? No, wait, I dont want to die without kissing
him again, give me a shot of morphine to dull the pain.
Reuben pours him some of the strongest whiskey theyve got and
says, This is close enough.
We went out to dinner. The place he picked? It was so stupid-
looking it nearly crossed over into cute, but not quite. But I had
him to look at, so I didnt care, and the food was goodhe was
right about that. I took a sneak-picture of him, look at this guy.
Dash hands over his phone, and on its a picture of Campbell
squinting at the menu and tucking his hair behind his ear.
Hes . . . pretty?
I think so too. Im already in love with him though, so Im not
exactly objective.
Maybe you should fuck him before you decide youre in love with
him, see how that goes first.
Dash just shakes his head and drinks his drink while Reuben gets
a little work done. Thats what he always ends up doing, fucking
guys before he really knows them, what they want, who they are,
how they think, what they like. All his previous encounters, be
they shallow ex-casual boyfriends or one-night-stands, could have
all been orphans for all that Dash can swear he knows about
them. He just gets so hot for any guy who welcomes the attention,
and he knows he comes on too strong every time, but he just
cant help it. Or at least he couldnt help it much until now. Maybe
all these years in the maze of maybes and frustrations have given
Dash the strength to improve? Maybe Campbell really is the one
hes been looking for, and thats why its different this time,
because this time its right, and all those other times it was just
practice.
I met his sister, Dash says, almost like its a brag, and in a way it
ishe knows more about Campbell than he does about every
other guy hes hooked up with put together: hes met the sister,
and heard stories about the grandfather, and they share a love of
food, and Campbell even complimented him about a million times,
pointing out all the good things he wanted to report to his sister,
saying that shed be impressed, shed approve. He said it like that
was a good thing. Dash just tried to keep his most winning smile
on the whole timeby the end of the night it felt like his face was
going to freeze like that, until kissing Campbell heated him into a
puddle.
Is she single? Reuben asks.
I dont know about single, but I know shes got four kids, so I
hope not, that sounds like a nightmare without a team effort. But
anyway, if you see a leggy strawberry-blond gal, and I know you
never miss noticing women like her, and shes standing next to a
guy who looks like the picture I showed you? Thats my guy. Tell
me if he comes in, I want to feed him something amazing.
You want to spoon feed him? Hand feed in some perverted
ritual?
Yeah, you think youre being funny, but Id chew his goddamn
food for him and fucking kiss it into his mouth if he wanted me to, I
wouldnt even ask questions, Id just learn to like it.
Youre sick, Reuben says with a smile, but we can all get that
sick when were in love, its such a flu.
Dash is happy to agree with him on that, but before he can say
anything, Reubens eyes bug out a bit (and hes a hard-to-fluster
guy, hes been dealing with drunks in New Orleans for years),
then leans in to say, Get your ass into the kitchen, a tall
strawberry-blond just walked in, and shes got a friend, move it.
Dash feels his heart spike with fear (a thrilling sort of fear), and he
earns his name with the speed he uses to dash into the kitchen.
Theyve come to eat at Simmer Down! If only he could take the
advice of his restaurants own title, but no luck. Campbell knows
its his day off, is that why they came today? Or did he forget?
Hes got to make Reuben find outwhats the point of coming on
the day when Dash isnt cooking for him? Hes losing his mind in
this kitchen, more than he ever has before with any difficult
customer, unhelpful member of staff, or just a nightmare dinner
rush. He cant see into Campbells head and he wants to, wants
to pry him all the way open and then put him back and hold him
together for the rest of his life.
Reuben recommends they order what he knows Dash will cook
best, and he also knows that Dash will be taking over the Bakers
meal whether they know about it or not. Appetizer: fried eggplant.
Soup: oyster and artichoke. Dinner: one orders catfish almandine,
and the other fried oysters. Somebody likes stuff fried, somebody
likes oysters, but which is which? Dash swears Reuben to
secrecy and then hates him for keeping his promise, but its too
important he doesnt know so that he works hard to impress them
both.
Dash cusses at everyone while he cooks, every member of his
staff and all the living and all the dead, and especially himself, but
he knows he didnt burn or poison any Bakers today, and thats
the best he can do. He actually curls up in the walk-in freezer to
wait out the time it takes for Campbell and his sister to eat, letting
the freezing air try to soothe his burning skin (though it doesnt do
that great a job). Reuben comes to get him. when theyre enjoying
coffee and dessert cookies, crouches down to his level to give
him some the information hes waiting for.
They liked your food, and theyre good people, I like them. Now
get the hell up and go tell them what you did, theyll thank you for
it. And find out if that sister is single, really, I grew up with six
siblings, kids dont scare me, and shes . . . shes made from the
same stuff hes made of, so you know its quality.
Dash laughs a bit, and starts to get up, saying, Yeah, good eye,
man, well-spotted. Reuben lends him a hand to stand him, and
walks out with him to say goodbye to the Bakers at the cashiers
desk up front.
Campbell, his hair tied back in a ponytail (Dash never even
thought about grabbing onto a ponytail, thatll keep him up tonight
for sure), blushes and nearly hides behind his sister, who faces
Dash head-on, with a wry look on her face.
You made me that food? she asks. I loved that food, I like your
style.
So hes good enough for your brother? Reuben asks, staring at
her openly, but respectfully, in awe.
Hes good enough to try and prove it, she says.
Saffron laughs and Reuben laughs, and Dash and Campbell lock
eyes, and Campbell straightens up out of his blushing, hidden
stance to look around the entryway. Theres the menu stand with
a hostess in it, the cashiers desk with their administrator in it,
doors to the bathrooms a few feet away, and a tiny hallway to a
coat-check closet they only ever use about two weeks a year in
New Orleans. They mostly use it as storage for holiday
decorations. Campbell beckons Dash to this alcove. Dash follows.
Campbell has his arms crossed, still a little guarded, and mostly
looks at the floor while flashing his eyes (a sort of cloudy green)
up at Dash and back down again.
I wanted to come when you werent here just to see the place, to
show Saffron, I didnt mean to put you to some test or anything, I
just wanted to show my sister.
She wants to put me to some test, Dash says, smiling again.
Hes still nervous, but hes too happy being around Campbell to
worry about that too much.
Youll pass just fine, Im sure, its not that hard a test. Its: do you
like Campbell, and are you a good person? Just like, shes into
honesty and principles and stuff.
Wow, what a weirdo; Im all about lies and cons.
Campbell smiles at that little joke and lets down his arms. Dash
opens up his own arms hoping for a hug. He gets what he wants.
He and Campbell pull each other close, and thats enough to
completely intoxicate Dash with happiness, but when Campbell
lifts up his head and kisses Dash right on the spot of his neck
where his throat meets his jaw, it enflames him. He snatches up
Campbells face and kisses the hell out of his lips, hed bite them
if he could do it without hurting Campbell, but even with all the
control he can muster, he still leaves Campbell with stubble-
burned, obviously reddened lips, and the poor guy has to walk out
to his sister and Reuben and two staff members who are trying to
be as discreet as possible, but they cant leave their stations, and
everyones aware of everyone else.
Um, Campbell says, rejoining his sister. Call me, okay?
Okay. Wait, do I have your number?
Saffron rolls her eyes (still smiling though), and says, Ask Mr.
Sandwich over here, he has my number and I have Campbells.
Later, gators. With that she takes her brother and leaves. Dash is
left with Reuben, both looking outmatched, but optimistic about it.
Mr. Sandwich? Dash asks him.
Yeah. How do you like someone named after a damn spice
making fun of my name?
I like it just fine, but I bet you like it better.
Smart fucker. Go home, man, youre not even supposed to be
working tonight, get a life.
All right I will! Dash says. By which he means thats hes going
to go home and figure out how long he has to wait before he can
call Campbell, how long before hell see him again.
Part II:
6. Sweet Kisses
Its Monday night before Campbell plans to see Dash again, the
night before Dashs mid-week weekend. He has a plan to surprise
him at Simmer Down the right way, instead of going in on a sneak
mission and surprising them both by accident. He wants to bring
him something delicious, a dessert this time, something sweet,
but though Campbell can roust out the best ingredients and can
taste the essential components of almost every dish he eats, he
can advise, but he cant really cook. He can burn stuff just fine,
but thats not the skill hes in need of today.
Saffron saves him again! Sunday night he goes over to her
house, and after making it through the rounds of greeting each
kid, he makes his way to her kitchen with a sack of ingredients
and a pathetic help-me sort of look. Saffron assigns her oldest,
Rosemary, to help her sad uncle, and then its Rosemary giving
Campbell little assignments she thinks he cant screw up.
Saffrons putting her littlest girls to bed (thats Olive and the baby
at five, Clementine), while Frankie the boy plays a video game in
pure, Zen-like mesmerism. Campbell sits at the kitchen table and
measures ingredients until Rosemary hands him a bowl and tells
him to stir; she does all the heating and timing, then lets Campbell
decorate the topits a pecan pie, so he puts pecans on the top
in a nice circular arrangement. Rosemary whips up some heavy
cream and puts it in a separate container, puts the pie (once its
cooled) in round pie/cake-specific Tupperware, and pats him on
the head and tells him he did a good job helping her.
Thank you, Rosemary, he tells her. He can hear Saffron
laughing in the next room. He wanders out of the kitchen and
joins her on the couch.
Ill bring that pie to the store tomorrow, and you can take it from
there to your boyfriend.
Im over thirty, Campbell says. I do not have a boyfriend, thats
ridiculous.
Oh, you dont want me to get more creative than that, Saffron
says, turning so that she can lay her head in her brothers lap,
knowing hell comb out her hair with his fingers. Your beau? Your
gentleman caller? Your lov-uh-boy?
Not a lover yet, but, you know.
Soon! Hes gorgeous, kid, I bet youll like it.
I hope so. He seems gentle enough even when he grabs me,
hes very . . . firm.
That kiss he laid on you wasnt too soft. I get it, she says, before
dropping her voice to a whisper and saying, I like it a little rough
sometimes too.
Oh, dont tell me that, come on. With Herb, really? Herb is the
father of her kids, dead and gone for three years now, from a car
accident over slick roadsnobodys fault but bad luck, still the
worst bit of luck this familys ever had.
Herb had his moments in the bedroom, and I dont like that stuff
all the time, we figured it out.
Campbell goes quiet and contemplative, and Saffron is in
sympathetic silence with him for a moment before she starts
laughing, hard. Campbell smiles and lets her go on with it until
she catches enough breath to tell him whats so funny.
I really hope he likes eating out your pie! she tells him
eventually, which makes her redouble with laughter, while
Campbell rolls his eyes and kisses his sister on the forehead.
Youre precious, he tells her. Hes too nervous to really laugh
about any of this. Its all butterflies inside Campbell.
Monday night he takes the pie and calls a cab (doesnt drive, has
no car) and arrives to sit at the bar where he can talk a bit to
Reuben before the real show starts. Reuben nods at him when he
sits down, but doesnt say anything to acknowledge their previous
meeting. He only asks, Whatre you drinking?
Uh . . . something with juice, please, I dont know, surprise me.
Reuben nods, puts some orange and cranberry juice in with some
vodka: two juices, perfect.
Did you bring Dash a present? Reuben asks. When everyones
served, thats when hell be your friend, but not before it seems.
Yeah; he doesnt hate pecan pie, does he?
He only hates black liquorish, no other food.
Oh, damn, because its actually a black liquorish cake, its my
specialty.
Reuben smiles and nods at Campbellapproval granted.
Campbells just glad his attempt at being funny actually worked
(usually it doesnt, and even his youngest niece will pity him for
that, and shes still only five years old).
I wanted to ask you . . . whats your sisters situation? I ask
because . . . I didnt see a wedding ring, but that might not mean
what I hope it means.
Now Campbell is surprised, and he finishes his drink and lets
Reuben get him another before he can deal with it.
Her husband died three years ago, but she hasnt been dating,
shes got four kids. And me, she also takes care of me.
She sounds like quite a woman.
Shes pretty in charge. I can give her your number, but shed flick
me in the neck if I gave you hers.
Awesome. Would you do that, do you mind? Give her my
number? Here, Ill write it down. He takes a clean, unused
cardboard coaster and puts his name and number on the bottom
of one. Campbell tucks it into his pocket just when Dash pops his
head out from the kitchen door to say something to Reuben, but
when he sees Campbell he forgets to speak. His hair is just long
enough to curl around his bandana at the end of a long day over
the stove. He looks a little wrung out, but still great.
Hey, its you, he says, walking over to stand in front of
Campbell, though with the bar still in between them.
It is me, Campbell says. Theyre not silver-screen scintillating
with their repartee, but Campbell doesnt care. Reuben removes a
dirty towel from over Dashs shoulder, and unties an apron with a
random assortment of forks, pencils, spices, and whatever in the
pocket.
He brought you something, man, Reuben tells Dash. Weve got
us a gentleman here.
Campbell blushes a little as Dash looks down at the counter and
realizes theres two containers therehe hadnt noticed them at
all. Campbell opens the top of the pie container, shows it to Dash
and says, Take a whiff, tell me if it seems edible.
That looks great, it smells great, Dash says. I didnt know Baker
was your name and occupation.
More like my niece is a baker, in only the one sense, since she
has her dads last name, Boyle. Your friend Reuben there thinks
he wants to ask my sister out. Im going to hand his number to
her, and good luck to him.
That guy, Dash criticizes, though hes still smiling and friendly.
Trying to horn in on my love life like that? Rude.
Campbell smiles, but doesnt feel the need to say anything; he
and Dash are just mooning at each other.
So do you have time to try this pie tonight? Its maybe the
filthiest sentence hes ever said to anyone, hes not one for
propositioning, really.
Dash laughs to see Campbells attempt at boldness. Wipes his
hands on his shirt before he realizes all his aprons and rags are
gone.
Yeah, Dash says. Let me clean up and change, and then . . . I
have a wine at my place that would go perfectly with it. Are you
interested in that?
Campbell is very interested in that. He waits at the bar for Dash to
clean up and change clothes, and then gets driven in silence to
Dashs apartment. Its far more of a bachelor pad than Campbells
placeCampbells room resembles his nieces bedroom more,
with decorations all over the walls and comfort and pretty objects
everywhereDashs place looks like it belongs to someone
recently released from prison, with few possessions and an
imposed habit of order (if not cleanliness). But Campbells not that
concerned with ambiance right now. Hes mostly just in panic
mode about when itll happen. Its definitely going to happen, the
moment they touch again, kiss again, go further . . . but when,
and exactly how?
Dash pulls down two plates (he only has four) and two forks out of
a mismatched cutlery drawer and takes up a fine knife out of a
block to start cutting the pie.
How about we just share one slice? Campbell asks. Im not that
hungry right now. More like he can think of something hed rather
be doing than eating pie, someone hed rather do.
Good idea, Dash says quietly, all his swagger and charm
suddenly muted. Dash cuts one small slice, hands Campbell a
fork, they both take one bite and put it in their mouths and then
ignore it.
The pie tastes fine, great even, and good for it, but Campbell
might as well be chewing on a piece of flavorless gum; he does
not care. Dash doesnt seem too enthusiastic either, and not
because its bad baking, just because hes too distracted.
This is amazing, he says with his flat, unfocused voice. Hes
eating itchewing it, swallowing itbut he might not be tasting it
at all. His mind is elsewhere.
Ill tell my niece we both liked it, shes really good at baking, she
might even join the family business if she wants to, at the bakery
counter, Campbell says. It feels like the dumbest, rambling thing
hes ever said, like so irrelevant that the sound of a vomit would
have added more value to the world, but he doesnt care because
all he can think about is his body, and Dashs body. Theyre both
leaning their hips against the same counter, just two to three feet
of space between them. Campbell glances down at Dashs
leaning hips for a second and then looks back at his face. That
darted glance is what finally triggers the moment.
Dash is against him in an instant, his arms around Campbells
back and his hips pressing against Campbells and backing him
against the counters edge. His eyes are open, stark, and
unblinking when he stares at Campbell for a moment of control
before he acts, in case Campbell has anything to say. Dash
kisses his speechless lips, and kisses them hard. His tongue
pushes inside of Campbells mouth, and his tongue is sweet, with
the sugared filling of the pecan pie still lingering there, coating it.
The first kiss starts out as slow as molasses, but the second kiss
starts before the first one can end, going deeper, pressing further,
until Campbells losing his sense of balance, which is only
restored when he feels Dashs hands encircle him, slide over his
back, with one roughened hand clamped on the back of his neck.
Campbell reaches up between them to stroke Dashs face when
he starts running out of air, though Dash lets go of his mouth, he
keeps hold of Campbells body, cradling him, foreheads pressed
together and panting slightly, breathing each others air.
Campbell, he whispers. Would you stay the night with me?
Please?
Campbell gets dizzier still as blood rushes away from his head
its like the word please was the password to kick open a door,
and Campbell is aroused and stunned by the rush of it at the
same time. He was eating some pecan pie less than a minute
ago, and now hes drowning in the most beautiful sea of ecstasy,
with coral spires and fluttering darts of life, and waves crashing all
around him.
While Campbells relishing this sensation, Dash is waiting, and
when Campbell feels his face grimace, his teeth clench where
their cheeks are pressed together, he takes Dashs face in both of
his slim, soft hands and says, Yes.
Dash makes a noise like a whimper, and nuzzles his face into the
palm of Campbells hand before he returns to kissing him, and
then starts nipping at him, at his lips and his jaw and his ear lobe.
Campbell closes his eyes and leans his head back, opening
himself up to whatever comes next.
7. Staying the Night
It isnt at all the way Dash imagined it happeningits better. He

thought hed want to take charge, and he does, but he doesnt
want to be in control of Campbell, he wants to control himself in
Campbells thrall. Fantasy is just that, a fake thing, a ghost, an
imitation. Its nice when its all youve got, but now Dash has this
beautiful man in his house, standing in his kitchen, and though he
wants desperately to touch him, he doesnt want to overwhelm
him with desperation and ruin the moment.
The only thing he touches is the tie holding Campbells hair in a
ponytailhe wants his hair to be free should an opportunity arise
to get a hold of it.
With the hair tie tossed on the counter, Dash pulls himself
together and takes Campbell by the hand to lead him to the living
room. Campbell looks at Dash, waiting for him to say something,
to do something. Dash decides to tell him what to do, and hope
that hell deign to listen.
Take of your shoes, would you? Dash asks.
Campbell shrugs, and steps on them until the shoes are off his
feet. Dash comes close enough to kick them aside, and then
steps back again.
Now the shirt, take that off.
Campbell looks around like the room he knows to be empty might
somehow be watching him, scrutinizing, but he still strips off his
shirt and balls it up and then shrugs. Dash nods at the corner so
that Campbell will toss the shirt aside, and he does. So now thats
out of the way.
Dash hesitates so long just admiring Campbells naked chest
the sharp pools of his collarbones, the slope from his ribs into the
valley of his stomach, leading beneath his pants. Campbell,
without another request, takes the initiative to unbutton his pants
on his own. Dash cant let him do that himself, it makes him
jealous! Campbell undresses himself every day, hes had enough,
and he cant appreciate it the way Dash will. Instead of ordering
him to stop (Dash cant do that either, cant raise his voice above
a whisper right now without regretting it) he hurries forward and
goes down on his knees in a short slide, arriving right at
Campbells feet, ready to worship.
Let me, he begs, and Campbell slowly lowers his hands, his
skinny chest rising and falling quickly with his shallow breaths.
Dash takes the two petals of his open jeans and folds them back
so he can lean forward and kiss Campbells body, just below his
navel, which makes Campbell gasp and his body suck in, but his
hands come up and hold Dashs head to the spot, stubble and all,
until he pulls back using his lip-covered teeth to pull Campbells
zipper down.
The pants puddle to the floor after that, and to remove Campbells
underwear, Dash raises up his arms and starts dragging his
fingernails lightly down Campbells sides, causing him to writhe a
bit with the tickle of it, but he otherwise stays put. When Dashs
fingers reach his underwears waistband, he hooks each tip over
the band and continues to drag slowly. He thought hed be so wild
with desire that hed never be able to move this slowly, but though
his passion is overwhelming, its such a huge, lumbering sort of
intoxication that he cant be rushed. Itd be like leaving a sauna
and walking out into a New Orleans wet summer noonthe whole
world is in slow-motion sometimes, and this is one of those times.
Campbells cock is bright red at the tip, blushing furiously with the
throb and pulse of his blood. It feels hot even to Dashs lips, which
already feel stung and flushed. He kisses the tip and then starts
putting out his tongue to lick the bottom of the shaft, to go deeper
and further each time, to consume him. When Campbell reaches
the back of his throat, his arms hug Dash to him again, bring him
closer, as if in gratitude. Dash sucks him until Campbells joints
are so jellied with ecstasy he can hardly stand. Thats when Dash
stands up. He hugs Campbell, lifting him up, and Campbells legs
wrap around him so Dash can get his hands under this mans ass
and support him as they make their way into the bedroom.
Campbell is hiding under his own hair the whole time, face tucked
beneath Dashs jaw, kissing Dashs neck.
Dash crawls onto his bed before setting Campbell down right in
the center. He wishes briefly that he had more of a nest of pillows
to enthrone him on, but that would just get in their way. Dash
strips off his shirt and pushes his pants down to his knees so he
can inch out of them by crawling ever so closer to Campbell. He
never knew he could be so happy on his knees, so content just to
try and please someone else.
Campbell is propped up on his elbows, so he reaches for Dash
with his legs, starting with both feet on his hips to pull him closer
and to use him as leverage to position himself. Dash takes one of
his pillows, folds it in half, and puts it beneath Campbells hips, so
he has something to rest on. Thats when Campbells legs wrap
around Dashs lower back, and bring him right up to the precipice.
Lube really doesnt appear out of nowhere, but between the pre-
cum on Dashs cock and some spit on his fingers to get them
started, it doesnt stop them because he takes it slow.
At this angle, all Dash has to do is let go to sink into Campbell,
and with every thrust he lets more of his weight settle, gets further
inside. The feeling of being engulfed by someone elses body is
one thing (a lot of times its the only thing that brings two people
together), and that feels as good as it always does, but what turns
him on more, and what stokes his desire to nearly hallucinogenic
heights, is that once hes deep inside, his every small movement
can be felt by Campbell in a way that Dash has never
experiencedthe trust in his eyes, the way they light up when
Dash hits the sweet spot and stays there, hitting the same button
over and over again just to see Campbells eyes roll back, to see
him surrender . . . that finally drives Dash into the frenzy he was
expecting.
Its when Campbells arms slip out from under him, and hes only
propped up by the pillow beneath him and Dashs grasp, that he
starts to lose himself to what Dash is doing to him. Campbell tugs
his own hair, and when Dash sees him pull on his hair that hard,
he reaches up to do the same.
A fistful of hair, his other hand clamped on Campbells hip, and
one, two, three more grinding thrusts before Dash comes, and
Campbell moans to feel himself being filled up, and Dash takes
him by the hair to bring him close enough to kiss. Campbell
thrusts his tongue into Dashs mouth, kisses furiously a mouth
gone slack with wonder and pleasure, and Campbell reaches
between them to pull himself off while Dash is still in the slow-
motion crash of his orgasm, and when his substance erupts
against Dashs chest, he collapses.
For a second Dash believes he cant even see, he certainly cant
think in any sort of practical straight line. He lifts himself up just
enough so that he isnt crushing Campbell, but hell stay inside of
him unless Campbell asks him to get out, which he doesnt. They
dont speak, just default into making out, wallowing in each other,
until theyre so exhausted that they roll into a spooning cuddle
and fall asleep.
When Dash wakes up the next morning, all hes holding is the
pillow. He knows hes not so crazy that he just masturbated into
oblivion the night before thinking it was real. Campbell was
definitely here, Dash can still smell whatever goes into
maintaining hair that long, if its some kind of gel or spread or oil,
the scent of its all over his sheets, its on his skin because he fell
asleep nuzzled in that hair and breathing it in like fresh laundry or
a bouquet or a basket of goddamn muffins. He wasnt alone when
he fell asleep, but now he is . . . why?
He heart falls through a trapdoor, or at least thats how it feels.
Dash clutches his pillow close to him knowing that at any minute
hell probably start crying, and hell want to muffle the sound and
sop up the tears with something, so at least he was left with it as
a consolation prize. Was this just Graham all over again? Can he
really not tell the real thing from a one-night fling? Or is it less to
do with the guys and something thats wrong with Dash? Like,
fine, okay, hes good enough to sleep with a bit, but not someone
youd want to hang out with or talk to ever againhes served his
purpose, and so thats enough of him. So long, nice knowing you
and everything, but I dont want to know you anymore?
Dash is just about to get up and go for his emergency bottle of
whiskey, thankful at least that its his day off so he can get blind,
blot-out-the-memory wasted, and hopefully forget the whole night
with Campbell even happened, when he hears something drop in
his kitchen, and a voice go, Oh, shoot.
In an instant Dash is about to cry for a different reason, in
thankfulness. Hes still here! And who doesnt swear for real when
they drop something? He must spend a lot of time around those
kids of his sisters if even his cuss-words are so innocent. Dash
doesnt know what to do now either thoughrun out and hug him
or stay here and pretend to be asleep until he comes back?but
he hears Campbells feet approaching after that, and so just sits
up and waits for him, like a kid told to stay in bed while the
parents set up a Christmas morning surprise, in a fevered state of
anticipation.
Campbell comes back into the bedroom with two plates and two
forks, and nearly drops them again when he notices Dash sitting
bold upright and avid with attention.
Oh, youre awake, I wanted to surprise you.
You did surprise me, Dash says, but he doesnt elaborate, just
takes the plates from Campbell and sets them aside on the
mattress. Why speak of imagined pain now? Real life is here, and
its happy.
I figured we could have some pecan pie for breakfast since you
dont really have much else.
Yeah, Im not really into breakfast, Dash says, getting up on his
knees to touch Campbell, comb through his hair and stroke down
his neck, shoulders, arms, as if forming clay into a real person,
one he can keep. I usually dont eat until I get to the restaurant
and then just eat whatever the staff lunch is.
Hmm, very mature, Campbell says, his smile a tease. Dash
starts to kiss those lips, that smilehe would bite it off if he
couldbut Campbell says, Hold on with that, lets eat first, Im
hungry.
Im not, Dash lies. Not for real food at least; hell contemplate lip-
cannibalism but not a pastry, go figure.
Then feed me, and then you can have whatever you want,
Campbell says with a smirk. They both start laughing.
Dash tosses one of the forks on the ground (Campbell rolls his
eyes, but laughs again), and once Campbell lays down, Dash sets
both plates of pie on his chest and starts feeding them both bites
back and forth, mooning at Campbell the whole time.
How do you own a restaurant so young? Campbell asks. Its
time for pillow talk, it seems.
Me and Reuben and his father and two more investors own it, its
not just me. We run stuff on the ground, Reubens father is the
business manager, Dash says. Even with all those people its a
ton of work, the opposite of too many cooks in the kitchen, we
always could use more help than we have, but we keep it
working. They finish one piece of pie and start on the other
Dash moves the empty plate to the bedside table. What about
you? How does a store established, like a lifetime before you
were born, get your name on it? Hasnt it always been Campbells
Canteen?
Grandpa Campbell, is how. It was my fathers middle name, itll
be my sons middle name, and hopefully hell be willing to keep
the tradition going.
Thats pretty cute, Dash says.
Do you have a name picked out for a son?
Yeah, Dash says, any name but mineI cant take another
lifetime of jokes about dashing. To dash, a dash, dash around, my
hopes are dashed. Its exhausting.
Campbell giggles. Would you hide it in a middle name or do you
want a fresh slate.
I sooner name every one of my children Slatethe boys and the
girlsbefore Id name any one of them my Junior in any way.
Campbell keeps smiling. Understood.
The pecan pie slices are eaten, and now Dash is hungry, because
they just werent filling enough. He kisses Campbell a few times
and says, Let me take you out for a real breakfast, with like
protein and salt and stuff, we have to replenish. I know a great
place I only eat at when Im hung overno one responsible
knows about this place, its a secret for the losers and the people
who are lucky enough to get lost and find it.
Sounds perfect, Campbell says. You can take me anywhere
you like.
Dash loves hearing that, but he doesnt want to get ahead of
himself, get into a thoughtless dashing rush like his name always
accuses him of doing. He wants to spend all day with Campbell,
and wants every part of that day to feel like a sweet eternity, like
the kind of eternity you get when you spend your life the right
way, appreciating what you have while you have it, and treating
everyone around you with treats.
First, we should shower. Ive never gone to this place at all
presentable, I want to surprise the guy who runs it, make sure he
cant even recognize me Im so cleaned up and energized. How
do you feel about showering together? To conserve water of
course, no funny business.
Whatever, Campbell says, youre all about funny business,
thats why you make me laugh so much, but he gets up and
follows Dash into the bathroom and the shower stall, and thats all
Dash was looking for as an answer.
8. Out to Brunch
Campbells never taken a shower with anyone before, but he likes

it right away. Theres not much point of speaking in the shower
(the sound of the water really drowns you out, ha ha!), but the
slow-dance of reaching around one another for soaps, the spin
you must do to make sure the water rinses you all the way off
when youre crammed in there with someone else, and of course
the tenderness of being allowed to wash someone else, to
explore their body and learn their most intimate habits . . . it turns
out Dash shaves his face in the shower, which is why its often so
patchy (hasnt put a mirror in here, and it would fog up uselessly
anyway). He lets Campbell clean up the parts he misses.
Campbell doesnt grow any sort of beard at all, but hes careful
enough not to cut anyone today.
The place Dash takes him too is a pretty established little food
truck. Its on the far reaches of a parking lot with some wooden
picnic tables set out so people can sit to eatthe tables are
wooden, and they come with benches, but there are several
plastic lawn chairs scattered around too, in case anyone wants to
eat at the head of the table. Its not exactly a classy set-up, but
then neither was Campbells favorite diner, and this place isnt
trying even remotely to be fancyits called Shuck Off. On
purpose they called it that. Had a side painted to say it and
everything. So the dcor really matches the ambiance.
The theme of this place seems to be oysters with fixins. Plain or
fried or seared, whatever you like, grab whatever relishes and
sauces you want, ask for a drink or BYOB, and have fun.
Campbell lets Dash bring him a veritable sample platter of stuff he
likes, and two Cokes he offers to spike from a flask he carries with
him, but Campbell declines (hard alcohol numbs the taste of food
too much for him), and Dash joins him in sucking mouth-
wateringly salty mollusks down their gullets and enjoying the
spike of flavor that comes from whatever spice, salt, or pepper
sprinkled over each one. Theyre having a perfectly good, albeit
sloppy time wiping salt water off each others chins when Dash
suddenly freezes up, looking past Campbell to something behind
him. He stares until Campbell turns to see whats happened, and
Dash puts out a hand to cover his wrist and says, Please dont
turn.
Why? Campbell asks, though he stays facing Dash as he awaits
an answer. Dash puts a hand over his face to hide, like hes
shading his eyes from the sun even though theyre under an
umbrella, and tells him.
My ex is here. This has always been my favorite place. I took him
here a couple of times when we were seeing each other, and I
guess now he brings guys here too . . . jerk.
Campbell considers for a brief moment feeling less special
because apparently Dash has a pattern of bringing his dates to
this place, but Dashs face is so miserable, flushed and
embarrassed, that its clear he expected this place to stay his
secret spot, and not be passed on to whoever he shared it with
like a virus.
Hopefully he wont see us and wont stay long, Dash says, but of
course the second he wishes something like that, he gives the
universe the idea, and Campbell doesnt have to turn around to
see this guy now, because he comes sauntering up to the table
saying Dashs name.
Hiya, Dash, its been a while! The guy has a short, spikey
haircut and a way of standing that makes you notice the cut of his
hips. He sets both his hands on the table and leans down to kiss
Dashs cheek, the same way Campbell kisses his sister, but
without any true love or affection. You still like this place too? I
was just bringing my friend to check it out, get a taste of the town.
Hes some kind of food blogger, so I promised Id show him some
of the citys best secrets.
Dash looks up at this guy like hes trying to contain a sneer inside
his mouth, and its taste is bitter. Hi, Chip. This is Campbell.
Heeeyy, youve got a date too, good for you! Hi, Im Chip, the
guy says, holding out a hand for Campbell to shake. Hes got
quite boney hands, this Chip, and once he sizes Campbell up on
whatever criteria for judgment is in his head, he turns back to
Dash and says, Colby and I can join you! Hes not asking, hes
telling. Theres nowhere else to sit, so a double date it is.
Chip decides to sit down next to Campbell so he can keep a good
sightline on Dash, and insinuate into Campbells ear with stage
whispers whenever he wants. Within five minutes, Campbell
knows when they broke up (just before Dashs restaurant hit a
successful level of stability) and whos happy about it (nobody).
Dash is clearly uncomfortable having Chip in his present-day
reality, and Chip clearly feels that Dash only reached success to
spite him (though with how aggressive Chip is being and how
much Dash wanted to hide from him, Campbell doubts thats
true).
Chips date shows up with a couple baskets of oysters and is
introduced all around. Hes Colby, hes from Florida, so he knows
how to eat food dredged out of the Gulf, but hes really interested
in regional styles of the same familiar food. Hes interested in
talking to Dash especially, Ive been trying to talk to serious
chefs, but they flick me off like a fly on their meat most of the
time, and that happens again today, because Dash can barely do
anything but watch Chip like hes waiting for the guillotine to drop.
And so Colby ends up talking mostly with Campbell, through this
laser-intense channel between their two dates.
Ive been in this city for months, and Ive been finding places to
write about, obviously, New Orleans makes a lot of good food. I
mean, sure, youll find garbage for idiots and tourists
everywheresome nearby tourists ruffle up at hearing
themselves talked about, but they quickly attribute that to any
citys riffraff and go back to their foodI mean not everything you
eat in Paris is going to fine and gourmet either, but a lot of it will
be, and so thats going great here, but I keep wanting to talk with
someone whos local, born and raised in food and this place, but
Im practically a foreigner out here, people dont trust me. I mean,
Im from Florida! I grew up in a swamp too, Ive seen and eaten
gators, those bastards used to fall into the community pool every
once in a while, but I might as well be from New York City with the
way people look at me here, its weird.
I know that feeling, Campbell says. My familys been here for
generations, but I still dont understand jazz music, and whenever
I ask someone about it they look at me like, If you have to ask,
youll never know.
Exactly, yeah, Colby says, you know my struggle.
Campbell giggles a bit, but its hard to ignore the back-and-forth
battle of expressions going on between Chip and Dash. Chip
raises his eyebrows with a shrug towards Campbell, like hes too
unimpressive to even bring outside. Dash becomes affronted,
looking like an irritated bull someones trying to spurn into a fight
he doesnt want to have, and sort of shakes his head at their
whole environment: how dare Chip keep coming around to a
place that he knows Dash cares about? And then he looks down
at the table and back up again: how dare you sit down with us on
top of that? Chip rolls his eyes as if pointing out that its a free
country, he can do whatever he wants. Dash looks off towards the
parking lot like, yeah, its a free country, but its a big country too,
and maybe he wants to be anywhere else in it but here.
Dash, how would you like to be interviewed? Do you think
something like that would be good for Simmer Down? Campbell
asks.
Colbys eyes light up and he turns to look at Dash like hes just
met a wizard in disguise; Dash has no idea what Campbell is
talking about, he hasnt been listening; Chip looks absolutely
pissed, since suddenly the whole picnic table has turned.
Campbells come to the rescue, Colby will want that interview any
way he can get it, and Dash will win twice: hell be able to one-up
Chip and do something beneficial to his restaurant and his real
friends. Chip has lost all his power here.
Dash and Colby exchange contact information, promising future
meetings. Colby will come by to eat a review meal, and Dash
agrees to sit down and meet with him some time for an interview,
and Colby shakes both Dash and Campbells hand vigorously,
saying he finally feels lucky, must have stepped on a four-leaf
clover and gotten it wedged in his sneaker tread or something, he
can barely believe his good fortune. Chip doesnt say goodbye to
anyone, just walks off and goes to sit in his car, bitter and waiting
for the party to break up.
Dash and Campbell leave after clearing the table in silence. They
drive over to Campbells place without saying anything about that
either. Dash is driving, and Campbell doesnt want to ask why
theyre headed to his apartment, if its because the day has a
shadow on it now or because Dash doesnt like that Campbell
stepped in between whatever was going on with him and his ex.
Campbell starts to wonder if hes just too helpful for his own good
when they pull up to his place and Dash turns off the engine and
just sits there.
For a good thirty seconds, he sits there.
And then he launches across the center console and kisses
Campbell, whos still strapped into his seatbelt and wondering
what to do.
After three long and two short kisses, Dash stops and says, Im
sorry about that. Im sorry he was there, Im sorry it was so
awkward, Im sorry that Im weird now, I know I am, and I dont
want to complain about my ex with you, I know thats stupid, so
Im trying to stay quiet, and Im sorry.
Campbell unhooks his seatbelt and opens the passenger-side
door. Dash gives him a heartbreaking look like Campbells just
done with him suddenly, ready to walk back into his life and stay
there alone, but Campbells not doing that.
Get out, come on. Youve got another day off tomorrow, and my
sister is always nagging me to take a vacation, were spending
tonight at my place, lets go. Its small, but at least theres food
here, chop chop.
Dash looks stunned for a moment, like he cant trust himself to
believe what he just heard, but he gets it pretty quickly once
Campbell starts unlocking his front door (his only door), and
seems struck with wonder when Campbell gestures to let him go
in first.
Inside he mostly blinks around like hes taking shutter-flash
pictures with his mind. Campbell invites him to sit down on the
bed because its the only place to sit besides the floor. Campbells
apartment looks a lot like a shook-up genies bottletapestries
hung on the walls to crowd the place with patterns, and though he
doesnt leave food or dirty clothes lying around, he does drop
everything wherever he stops needing it. He only keeps track of
his keys, really, everything else in his life he has to hunt for at
least once a week.
Dash sits on Campbells bed, looks at all the detritus on his
nightstand, and then picks up a hairbrush without disturbing the
rest of the heap.
Can I brush your hair? he asks as Campbell comes back with
two cans of soda, one of which Dash takes and sets aside without
opening.
Sure you can, but I have to teach you how unless youve done it
before.
Dash sits quietly looking up at Campbell and waits for instruction.
Here, turn this way. Campbell instructs Dash to sit so that
Campbell can sit between his legs, at the same level, but facing
away, and then he makes his fingers into a little claw to
demonstrate. Start at the bottom and move up in increments, you
see? That way everything is combed out easily; if you start at the
top and try to rip down, youre just going to get the brush stuck.
Okay, Dash says, starting his work brushing human hair the way
someone might gently try to remove a thorn from a frightened
baby animalhes being so careful.
When hes done brushing the snags out and just enjoying running
the brush freely through Campbells locks, Campbell says, Next
time you stay over Ill teach you to braid, and then my nieces will
all love you.
Youd let me meet your nieces? Dash asks, finishing his last
brush stroke and taking his hands back.
Well, what are you going to do, eat them? They can be annoying
when theyre having tantrums, so honestly I worry more about you
meeting them than those girls meeting you; youre normal, theyre
nuts.
Dashs arms spring around Campbell and pull him into a tight hug,
which Campbell sinks into the same way he does a warm bubble
bath.
I think I already love you, Dash says, kissing Campbells cheek
from behind. Do you really think I should do that interview? That
wasnt just a way to break the tension because Chip was
I definitely think you should do the interview, Campbell says,
cutting Dash off before he can get bogged down in the past again.
You probably didnt notice, but Colby seems like a good guy
hes a thinker, he knows food, kind of a good talker, I bet he
writes pretty well. Check out his reviews before you make your
decision of course, but I know about food too, if not really how to
prepare it, and I know he wasnt full of bullcrap.
Youre so sweet, Dash whispers into Campbells ear. And you
said you wanted me to stay here tonight?
Yeah, I did say that, Campbell whispers back, and turns his
head so that Dash can kiss him, and love him if thats what he
truly feels, and stay with him regardless of why for the moment.
Campbell wants to live in this moment, and not over-think it.
9. Culinary Cabaret
Dash did not know that he could appreciate a one-night stand,

never to be seen again, but after running into his ex, suddenly
Graham seems like a perfect and charming gentleman of his
pastat least he had the decency to leave Dash and the country
at the same time. Thats pretty considerate, under the
circumstances.
The relationship with Chip only lasted a few months, but they
were the best months of Dashs life at the time. Not only were he
and his best friend starting their own business, but he finally had a
serious boyfriend! Everything he had took a lot of work to
maintain, but it was the best kind of work, the kind of effort that
leads steadily to better and betteror so he thought.
It was true when it came to the restaurant. Building patched up
and decorated, menu decided, vendors contacted, staff hired,
paperwork filled out, ads bought, reviewers invited, and then
opening night. It wasnt a disaster, and thats the best success
Dash and Reuben were hoping fordont expect to be amazed,
and in fact dont even wish for itthe best case scenario is that
everything goes so smoothly its practically boring. No fires, no
tantrums, nothing too interesting on day one, and thats what they
got. Reuben and Dash opened champagne and almost hugged
for a full second (theyre not huggers), and all the while Chip was
there, moody and sullen, wondering what all the fuss was about.
Thats it? he asked them. You guys did all that work and
nothing even happened. Nobody important was here, there wasnt
even a party.
This is the party, Reuben said, holding up his champagne. Its a
very exclusive party, were the only ones invited.
Chip had rolled his eyes and stayed quiet until he and Dash were
in the car. Dash was driving to his place to drop him off for the
night before going home to dream of the next day before it even
began, and thats when Chip wrecked what should have been the
best day of his life.
I dont think Im into this anymore, into us. Its nothing against
you, really, things just arent going the way I expected, and youre
not the kind of guy Im looking for.
Dash was pulling up to Chips place, putting the car into park
when he heard this. He finished parking and then just sat there in
silence, staring out at the street and the wrought iron gates
capped with decorative spikes, and thought vaguely that falling
from a roof onto one of those rows of spikes would feel better
than this breakup.
Are you going to say anything, Dash? Are you even hearing
me?
Yeah, Dash said. Youre saying youre done with me, that were
done.
Right. Okay, then, I guess thats all there is to it. He reached for
the door handle, but Dash reached over to him first, touching
Chips shoulder.
Wait, he said. Can I at least get a goodbye kiss?
Chip sighed, and looked Dash up and down like he could hardly
believe his own eyes.
Thats pretty sad, Dash, Chip told him.
I didnt ask if it was sad, I asked if I could have one, just one last
kiss. Of course it was sad, and Dash knew he was going to be
sad for a while, a long while, as soon as Chip got out of his car
and walked back into his own life; he just wanted to put off that
moment a little bit longer.
Chip sighed again, and said, Fine, and gave Dash one firm,
close-mouthed kiss on the lips like he was lending money to a
junkie, hearing promises of repayment he knew were lies, but too
weary to refuse someone so pathetic.
And that was the last Dash saw or heard of Chip until seeing him
at the Shuck Off truck. That was the last time hed been in any
sort of relationship at all. And just like Chip managed to ruin the
opening night of his restaurant, up he popped again on the first
day after getting serious with Campbellwhats he going to do,
be the goddamn photographers date at Dashs wedding? Is he
going to be seeing a nurse on the day Dashs kid is born?
Messing around with the commencement speaker the day that kid
graduates? If only hed meet a nice, glamorous alien and just
move to another planet, thatd be the decent thing to do if you
asked Dash, but no ones asking Dash anything . . . except for
Campbell.
How do you want to do it, how would it work best? Should Colby
write the food review and then the interview or should it be the
other way around?
Just watching Campbell sit at his bar with some pink drink and a
notepad, like this thing with Colby is going to have any planning
on their part, is precious. Dash cant believe hes really sitting
there, on Dashs side, trying to help for nothing, for no other
reason than he seems to want to.
Colby can come here and eat and review whenever he wants,
reviewers never need my permission for that, although we do like
to know when theyre coming by so we can bring our A-game. Let
him eat here first, decide Im a good enough chef to even bother
talking to, and well go from there.
And indeed Colby does come to eat at Simmer Downhe orders
the duck confit, he gets his hand shook by the chef, he texts
Campbell when the link to his review is live, and its a pretty good
review. Colby compliments the quality of the ingredients (thats a
thanks due to Campbell), the prep (thats all due to Dash), and the
ambiance (that ones for Reubenthe furniture and the feel of the
place, since hes the one who doles out the booze). Its all good,
and Reuben even breaks out another bottle of champagne when
their review on Colbys website gets picked up by the Times-
Picayunes website, and when next they hear from Colby he has
even more good newswhen he was contacted for permission by
the paper he mentioned the interview, and they want to feature
that too, in a much biggerway that involves sending a
photographer and putting Dash and Reuben on an actual
newsprint page. Thats a much bigger deal that Dash was
expecting, but he wont turn it down, he cantattention for him,
when it might also mean attention for their business, he refuses to
refuse.
And one day Dash is scheduled to come in early on a Tuesday
he dresses up just like its any old regular day at work, and shows
up to meet Reuben and wait for Colbys arrival. Campbell is there
too, mostly because he spends a lot of nights over at Dashs
place and gets driven to work before Dashs day starts the next
morning. Today hes with them because hes the real connection
with Colby here, and much to Dashs worrisome discomfort, he
and Colby seem to be growing into friends. That would be totally
fine with Dash, if only they all thought a chip was a food and not
his annoying, awful ex. A chip should be a potato slice or a drop
of chocolate and nothing else.
Morning, guys, Colby says, coming in with some beignets to
share (so hes way too thoughtful a dude for Chip, Dash thinks
bitterly, though says nothing about it out loud). This guy here is
Earl, hes from the paper. He showed up with a camera so Ive got
to assume hes a welder, something like that, right?
Earl laughs without moving his face into a smile, but he plays
along with the joke. Considering the magic I can render with
retouching pictures, thats pretty close to it. Earl shakes hands
with Dash, Reuben, and Campbell, then goes scouting for good
places with good light to pose them for the shots. Colby sits at the
bar, but refuses an offer of a drink.
Its not that I dont love drinking first thing in the morning, Ive got
that in common with some of the locals, but I do have a rule about
drinking before I do my work. I get wasted afterwards, like any
respectable writer. Colby pulls out a recorder, sets it between
them on the table, and hits record. That must be how he guards
against any drunken blackout problems.
Good policy, Dash says. Campbell doesnt participate but he
does sit close by to watch the show.
What are your policies, what are your principles? Colby asks. I
dont mean to go straight to philosophy, but I am going to ask
around and try to figure out what makes you tick, what makes you
work for a career like this, so let those questions percolate if youll
excuse the term. But first: where are you from, where were you
born?
Right here, Dash says, meaning New Orleans, but Colby comes
back at him with:
What, right here in this restaurant?
Absolutely, Dash says, joking with him because its making
Campbell squirm with a repressed giggle. Its the only way to be
a really authentic chef, be born literally in the kitchen, preferably
onto a plate and then served to your mother, you know.
Colby laughs out loud. Man, see I knew you chefs were
hardcore, I just didnt know what that word really meant, very
intense.
No, but I was born and raised in New Orleans, and Ive only been
technically outside the state, like vacations were, Lets go see the
part of the gulf that are on the other side of the Mississippi
border! Not all that different, it turns out.
Colby nods and makes a note on a folded up piece of paper he
pulled out of his pocket, then crosses three things out.
Youre pretty charming for someone who spends all his time
behind the scenes, Colby says. You think thats a real
marketable skill with chefs, that sort of personal appeal?
You havent talked much with Reuben, hes my partner in this
place, and theres the reason hes the one face-to-face with just
about every customer and staff member in the joint, hes much
more charming than I am.
Thats not exactly charm, what you just described, thats
diplomacy. Its still a good thing, dont get me wrong, and an
essential skill for a place like this to thrive, but its not the same as
charm. Charm is more . . . natural. Unguarded, less calculating. It
sounds like Reuben sees people on a chessboard, and I bet
youre terrible at chess, but thats the sort of non-shrewd, honest
kind of intelligence that would make people like you so much.
Not everyone likes me, Dash says, remembering uncomfortably
that hes talking to his exs new boyfriend and clamming up a little.
No one can say that everyone likes them, Colby says. Im a
wonderful, winning person, and I once put ketchup on a hotdog in
Chicago and someone spit on my shoe in disgust. You cant be
liked by everybody.
Especially not vegetarians and vegans, Dash says.
Hmm, I should hire you to interview yourself, youre great at
doing my job for me! Thats a question on the list: why meat, is it a
deal breaker with you to even think about leaving meat out of your
menu?
It is a deal breaker, Dash says, remembering that Chip was a
freegan vegan in that he was a vegan all the time unless
someone else was buying, then hed eat anything. Not because
Im some gun-nut hunter or anything, but because meat-eating
animals eat each other, and humans are omnivoreswere like
garbage disposals, we can eat just about anything, but we have
the ability to taste and appreciate flavors, and thats something I
dont see sharks or lions doing, savoring their food. The way I
think of it, its like I can see too many colors to want to wear
sunglasses through this world, and I love food and nourishment
too much to tie one hand behind my back and only eat
vegetables. We serve non-meat options on the menu, and weve
got kosher dishes too, and all our food is as locally sourced and
cruelty free as we can find and afford. Im not going out of my way
to love tortured veal or some fat-choked foie grasIm a meat-
eater and an omnivore, you know? But Im not unreasonable. Im
an animal just like what I eat, but Im not a monster.
Hmm, Colby says again, nodding his head in appreciation or
contemplation or something, then darting his eyes at Campbell to
raise his eyebrows like, Nice one. Has Dash just been appraised
and approved. Campbell is smirking at him while Colby turns back
and says, Theres a title in what you just said, I know it, I can feel
it. The photographers coming back with Reuben, lets switch you
two out and then Ill talk to you guys as a team, sound good?
Dash nods. It all sounds like someone elses life to him, but he
gets up to have his picture taken, and asks Earl if he can get a
couple of him and Campbell please, as a favor. Hes granted this
favor, and he and Campbell sort of slow-dance around each other
as the camera clicks away, and Dash tries to pretend the thing
isnt even there, tries to just ??? in relation to Campbell, to be only
what he sees and admires.
10. Dine & Dash
I fucking hate that title, Dash tells Campbell when the story
finally comes out. Because it wasnt just a simple interview, oh no,
it became a whole profile story on Dash alone. Reuben got left
out, and its barely about the restaurant at all, and some of the
stuff he seems to know . . . I think hes been listening to Chip talk
about the past, which makes my skin want to crawl off and get
boiled up and pressed into Spam, seriously.
Colby hates the title too, the editor did that without asking him,
look, Campbell says, holding out his phone so Dash can see the
texts: I didnt pick that title, thats lowbrow, and, tell Dash were
both better than that but there was nothing I could do, Im too
smalltime and freelance, and, if you guys can get past the title I
still think the article serves you all well.
Dash looks at the phone like it might be watching and recording
him for more betrayal later. Whenever he woke up and went to
get himself a copy of the paper, he came straight to Campbells
room afterwards, walking in with the key Campbell gave him,
waking Campbell from sleep (though he still hasnt moved at all to
leave his bed), and then pacing back and forth in the small space
waving the newspaper around like a decorative fan. Then he
opens the paper up and starts to do a dramatic reading.
The aptly named Dash Reese is handsome and charming in a
way that cant be taught to the rest of us schlubs, and his practical
way of thinking, his ease of being, translates into a menu that has
something for everyone. Chef Reese, unlike many a
megalomaniac and control freak youll often find running a
kitchen, has no agenda or vision to push with his food. He told
this reporter that he was born and raised in the city of New
Orleans, built this restaurant with help and with friends, and
maybe thats part of it: he feels a certain belonging here that
doesnt prompt him to try and prove anything, except that he
knows how to cook a fine meal.
Dash stops reading, stops pacing, and finally looks directly at
Campbell, who is still laying half-dreamy in bed. When hes silent
for long enough, Campbell flips open his covers and holds out a
hand so that Dash will join him. Dash kicks off his shoes and
drops the paper on the floor (but still within reach of the bed), and
then slips in beside him. Campbell is still wearing what he sleeps
in, a t-shirt and underwear, and he likes the incongruous feeling of
Dashs day-clotheshis jean shorts and his belt under a t-shirt
too crisp with laundry soap to have been worn to bedand
Campbell curls towards, feeling like a cat in someones lap.
That article sounds like some psychological study, like some
profile for a famous person or a winner of something so that
people can find out who the winner is, Dash says dejectedly.
I think youre a winner, Campbell says.
That story doesnt even mention Reuben by name, and this is a
family business for himhe and his dad together own more of the
restaurant than I do, they could replace me if they wanted to.
They wont want to do that. Youre like the pretty-boy front man of
a band that just wants to play music, but they have to get famous
enough to make money at it first. Youre like the bait for the fans,
and its not the funnest joball the pressure and attention is
going to be on you, and everyone else can just go on with their
business while you have to deal with distractions. Campbell
starts opening up Dashs belt under the blanket so he can start
being just that: a distraction. Trust me, if Reuben and Company
are smart enough, theyll be thanking you for taking the hit to get
the restaurant some notice.
Dash is quiet for a moment, watching the movements under the
blanket as Campbell undoes his button and zipper and gets his
hand inside Dashs underwear to start jerking him off.
Youre in the picture on the article too, did you see? Dash asks.
Its one I didnt realize they were taking, I thought we were done
with the little photoshoot. I was looking through that little portal
window at the kitchen and started counting some inventory, and
you were hanging back, and you were . . . sort of gazing at me.
I saw the picture, Campbell says. Ive seen all the pictures, Earl
sent them to Colby, and Colby sent them to me. We even talked
about which one we should use.
And why Dash pauses to gulp a bit, as a rush of blood swells
his cock and gives Campbell more to hold on to. Um, why did
you pick that one?
We both agreed that it looked better than the staged ones, you
look a little stiff when you know someones taking your picture. It
fit in better with that working class hero sort of slant Colby was
going for, and besides, its got kind of a cool composition divide,
dont you think? You anxious to get back into the kitchen to get
cooking, and me an admirer, gazing from the dining room?
Sure, I guess, Dash says, his eyes darting all over Campbell
now, no longer all too preoccupied with the story thats done and
in the past, regardless of how he feels about it. Too late now! Best
to just live in the moment.
Dash settles his restless sight on Campbells lips, and though hes
kept his hands by his side for the duration so far, his blood is too
pumped up to hold off any longer. He puts one hand behind
Campbells head and pulls him in for a kiss, while wrapping his
other hand around Campbells where it rests on his cock, and
starts pumping harder, hand in hand. When he comes, he moans
a bit into Campbells mouth before he regains enough control for
kissing, sucking, nipping. After a bit of that his eyes are bright with
crested pleasure, and he starts to slide down the mattress until
his face is level with Campbells cock.
Dash wraps his arms fully around Campbells waist, like a low-
flying hug, and then dips down the band of his underwear to get
access to what he wants. As Dash takes him into his mouth, he
hugs Campbells body closer and closer, holding him tightly while
his neck does the work to suck and slide along his shaft.
Campbell feels unmoored, unstable, like even though he is lying
down, it still feels like his been tossed over someones shoulder
and is being carried away. Its dizzying, but its not scary because
Campbell trusts the man whos snatched him up, and he combs
his fingernails gently over Dashs head, lightly scratching through
his hair and over his scalp to communicate that trust, and at his
touch Dash moans again. His moan sends a vibration of sound
through Campbells most sensitive area, and that drops him over
the edge. He spills into Dashs mouth, and Dash swallows until
theres nothing left to consume, and then he crawls back up to
rest his head on a pillow next to Campbell, and Campbell lifts up
to kiss him a few times, and to ask him, So do you feel better
about that article now?
What article? Dash asks. I dont even know what youre talking
about.
Campbell giggles and keeps kissing him until they both have to
haul out of bed for work. The kissing stops for Campbell when he
separates from Dash, but for Dash its only getting started: TV
reporters start calling to kiss his ass and ask to do a film interview
with him; over-emotional women show up for their three-martini
lunch to get a look at him and kiss lipstick onto his cheeks for
being so handsome in the paper!; and by the end of the night,
when Saffron drives Campbell over to Simmer Down to
congratulate everyone, and mostly Dash, she too lays a smooch
right on his lips, gluing them together for a moment with her lip
gloss, and making Reuben truly jealous for the first time all day,
until she goes to him next and kisses him better.
Im glad my brother finally found someone so sterling, she tells
Dash from her seat in Reubens lap where he sits on a barstool,
happy to be holding Saffron up while braced against the bar.
Now you two just get so successful that you become stinking rich
and make some honest women out of us, you got that?
Reuben laughs, and they go back to kissingthey started seeing
each other discreetly at some point, and though they seem pretty
serious about each other now, and Campbell likes Reuben for his
sister (and likes that her kids like him, theyre the biggest test), he
doesnt exactly want to watch closely as they suck face, so he
looks away. When he does, he notices a bit of a haunted look on
Dashs face, but it clears up quickly enough when he meets
Campbells eyes, so Campbell tries not to worry. That is until
Dash gives him another reason to worry, by inviting him to dinner
at a fancy restaurant.
That would be lovely and normal to some other couple, but thats
not what they do in their free time, fancy dining, thats what they
do professionally. Campbell has found it lovely that they go out of
their way to show each other dive-style eateries, not in an attempt
to poison each other, or to eat slop-fried garbage, but to find and
share secrets with each other, like a mutual scavenger hunt for
treasure. Now Dash texts him to ask him if hell spiff himself up
and get taken to Magazine Street for a night out eating high on
the hog. It makes Campbell nervous wondering whats
happenedwhats changed. Is Dash moving? Some job offer
somewhere far away and hes either saying goodbye or asking
Campbell to drop his life and go with him, is that it? Is it cancer?
Its cancer. Its probably some fast-acting cancer and Dash wants
to be super romantic because he only has six weeks to live. How
does one dress up for cancer? Campbells stomach feels so
queasy he doesnt even want to pretend to eat when Dash shows
up for their date.
Wait, Campbell says when Dash goes to start the car, more
jittery than Campbell has ever seen him before, which then makes
Campbell suspect drugsjittery, amphetamine-type drugs, like
super-cocaine that Dash is addicted to and wants to share. I
dont want to go anywhere until I know whats going on,
somethings definitely going on.
Well, something is going on, but . . . I had a plan, I thought I was
being discreet, but . . . I guess not.
Not at all, Campbell says. Is it a good thing or a bad thing?
I hope its good, Dash says, it depends on how you answer a
question.
Whats the question? What if its, I know this really easy place to
rob, want to be rich and live the fugitives life with me? Probably
he wont say something so extreme, but it feels like that level of
intensity in the car.
Lets get out of the car and walk around a bit, the moon is out.
Then we can go to dinner if you still want to, Dash says.
Campbell feels faint, too weak to lift himself out of the passenger
seat, with limbs made of fully cooked noodles, and a heart of Jell-
O.
Dash takes his hand though, and thats reassuring, and they walk
down the street towards the canal that doesnt look quite like a
gross run-off ditch under the magical sheen of moonlight. Dash
starts talking while Campbell looks around and wonders what kind
of memory this night will be when hes old.
I feel more like myself when Im with you than when Im alone,
Dash says. That doesnt sound like it should be true, but it is.
When I was alone, I felt like some sort of fraud in my own skin
sometimes, I just didnt know what to do with myself, so Id drink
or Id go out looking for any kind of connection, just someone to
give me some purpose even if that purpose was shallow, like
getting off or getting into a fight or even getting my heart broken;
that would at least eat up a week or two. Thats no way to live,
thats not real, and the more I lived like that, alone, the less real I
felt.
Campbell is listening to this as if its a hypnotic mantra; its lulling
his worries away.
And then I met you, Dash goes on. And you and me fell
together like it was planned almost, its been so easy. No one else
has ever had a key to my house, no one else has trusted me with
theirs, and I dont even remember thinking about it, I simply knew
I had a spare key and why was I holding it when you needed it, so
you could get to me faster, at your convenience, without having to
knock for permission first.
Campbell knows what he means, that feeling of comforting
inevitability. He squeezes Dashs hand now, knowing that
wherever this conversation is going, its going somewhere
Campbell wants to be taken to, just like arriving at the moonlit
canal as they are right now, and pausing to appreciate how
anything can be perfect and beautiful in the right light.
I want to keep doing that, I want to keep sharing with you, and I
dont have any more keys, really, but I do have this. With that he
pulls a box from his pocket, drops down on one knee, and opens
the box to reveal a small, gold wedding band, a ring small enough
for Campbells slim fingers. Will you marry me?
Campbell looks Dash over closely in the bright blue-white glow of
the moon, and he looks over the ring, and he finds he has one
question to ask for himself before he gives Dash his answer.
Dash . . . is that a recipe box? Its not tall, like the recipe boxes
Campbell has seen used, it looks more like it might hold a deck of
cards or a pack of cigarettes, but theres velvet nested in it now to
hold a ring, and the outside of the box has pictures of pies and
roast chickens painted on it.
Well, yeah, Dash says, a little concerned perhaps, because he
hasnt heard a yes or a no from Campbell. Uh, it was my
grandmothers, obviously passed down to me and none of the
other cousins because Im a chef, and I thought it would make a
good presentation, you know, for us . . .
Campbell drops down on his knees to meet Dash at that level,
and to kiss that nervous stammer right out of his mouth, and tell
him, Yes, Dash, yes, of course, yes, yes.
Dash hugs him, and when he can he pulls away far enough to put
the ring on Campbells hand saying, I looked up which hand is
the engaged hand and which is the married one, its supposed to
go on the right hand, and then it switches over at the ceremony,
right?
Oh, who cares; just put it on the left, I like it on that hand better,
and my sister will tell us if were wrong.
Are you going to want a big wedding? Are you going to want a
small wedding but like your sister will pressure you into some big
one with frills and tradition? Dash asks, moving the ring from
right to left already, just doing whatever Campbell asks him to,
whatever makes him happy.
My sister got married in a bathing suit because she decided her
wedding should be her favorite kind of party, a pool party. Were
free to do whatever we want.
Perfect, Dash says, settling the ring onto Campbells finger, and
giving him a soul-deep kind of kiss.
Part III:
11. Stag Night Delight
Dash can hardly believe hes about to become a married man,

somebodys husband. Hes an adult, and he has been for quite a
while now, that Dash is used to, but to be a real man to somebody
else? He can age, but that doesnt mean hes grown up in all this
time, does it?
But Dash knows this is right, he knew it enough to measure
Campbells ring finger in his sleep to know what to tell the guy at
the jewelry store, and he bought like a sheet of velvet to scrunch
into his grandmothers recipe box, he picked a nice restaurant and
took Campbell to it after he said yesDash thought hed be
proposing over dessert or maybe after driving out to the lakefront,
and if the steps were particularly romantic-looking he would
propose to Campbell there and take him for a celebratory drink
but he regrets nothing. The goal was to make Campbell say yes
and be happy at the same time, and that goal was accomplished.
Campbell mooned at him over dinner all evening, and took him to
bed all night, and the next day they told Reuben and Saffron the
good news, and then those two went into high gear and took over
at least half the plans.
Were obviously having the wedding at Simmer Down, right?
Reuben asked. Dont tell me you have your heart set on some
ballroom or mountaintop, that would give me high blood
pressure.
Dash was agreeable to the restaurant as their venue, and so was
Campbell, and so Reuben checked that off.
Saffron said shed handle all the pretty stuff: flowers, invitation
design, outfits, agreeable? Everyone said yes to that as well.
The food was an easy one: Campbells Canteen would get the
ingredients, and Simmer Down would hire some auxiliary staff to
cook and serve, and short of spoiled meat or a grease fire, that
wouldnt be any problem at all. Checklists were made and slowly
ticked down, and then there was just a matter of the bachelor
party. Dash and Campbell werent really asked for clearance on
any of thatReuben and Saffron said they knew the grooms
better than they knew each other, so theyd be handling the Stag
Night.
Dash and Campbell are sleeping at Campbells place the night
before their partyan all-day affair, on a Saturday, Reuben and
Saffron insist that it be as memorable a day as their actual
wedding, just three weeks away. Dash doesnt know how, they
certainly never decided officially, but he and Campbell spend
most of their night together in Campbells tiny one-room garage
apartment. Dashs place is bigger, and full of a lot more adult
conveniencesnewer and more plentiful appliances, better water
pressure in the shower, two sinks in the bathroom (one for each
of them), and yet still its more comfortable here. Its got more
character, Dash thinks; Campbell is all over this place, he clearly
surrounds himself with everything he likes and takes comfort
from, and thats a nice place for Dash to spend time, since he
loves Campbell so much. When left on his own, Dash feels more
like an android and less like a human; he could easily live in any
hotel, cell, pod, barrackseverything he owns that has any
personal meaning or connection with him and the people hes
loved could fit in a duffle bag. He has no love for his furniture, his
clothes, his kitchen supplieshe bought them once and they
could all be replaced easily, but Campbells room is full of the rare
and precious: things made by the hands of his family, painted art
from street-hawkers, cheap flower pots covered in mosaics of
beach glass that Campbell has collected himself, and even his
books are full of what he says is called marginaliaa bunch of
notes he took in the spaces around the text. Campbell leaves his
mark on everything in this room, and Dash cant wait until they
share the same room, really live together, and Campbell starts
leaving his mark on Dash too.
Should we get a house together or like some kind of loft? Dash
asks as they fall asleep.
How many puppies and babies are we going to have? Because
Im thinking well have to get some kind of rich persons mansion,
on like an estate, whatever those things are called.
Do you want a dog?
Yes, Campbell says, the second I have a yard.
Dash notes that; he has more surprises planned for Campbell,
and hopefully those sneak up on him better than the proposal. He
kisses Campbell to distract him, and kisses across his cheek to
nibble on his earlobe.
What do you think theyre going to do to us tomorrow?
No idea, but Im sure itll be exhaustingly fun.
Dash laughs and buries his face in Campbells hair to sleep.
Its Saffron who shows up to get them the next day.
Rise and shine, boys, lets go, my kids got ready before I even
brushed my teeth, so I expect the same enthusiasm from you two
schlubs, youre adults.
If you say so, Campbell says, yawning with a stretch that raises
his sleepshirt high enough to expose his stomach, which Dash
doesnt even try to resist touching. Saffron smirks at them from
the doorway.
Ill wait in the car, but Ill tell you where were going so you know
how to dress: City Park, darlings! Were spending a huge chunk of
the day being wholesome with family, taking pictures, we got that
guy from the newspaper to do it since you looked so damn
handsome in those shots, the both of you, she says. Pet a real
horse, ride a carousel horse, vice versa, as you please, and when
the sun goes down were going to eat whatever tasty slop they
serve there, walk through a swarm or a flock of butterflies with
some discreet alcoholic beverages, and then youll be free to
thank us, got it?
Dash and Campbell smile at each other and nod. They have their
instructions.
Once they arrive, everyone throws some confetti in the air and
gives them a kiss, back-pat, or an offer of breakfast depending on
how familiar they are with either groom. Dash and Campbell are
drawn into the park with donuts and eclairs in their hands, bottles
of juice in their pockets, and finally Dash gets to meet these kids
of Saffrons, and they get to pass judgment on him.
Rosemarys easyDash says he liked the pecan pie she made,
and agrees with her that horses are majestic, and thats about all
she needs to give him a pass to be part of her family. Frankie the
boy is way more interested in being friends with Reuben, and
luckily Reuben has a good enough reputation with him that
vouching for Dash is all Frankie requires to nod at him and then
promptly ignore him to get back to his own life. That was easy
enough.
Its the little girls, Olive and Clementine, that are the hardest sells.
Theyre quite possessive of their Uncle Campbell, and he has a
whole new attentive persona with them, as if theyre both very
valued customers who have come to him to discuss business.
Their business is mostly the business of being little girls.
This shoe buckle is very hard! Olive says, showing off her new
sandals and pointing out the leather strap. On my last shoe, the
buckle was on the inside, and thats easier, but look, now its on
the outside!
Campbell crouches down like this is a serious responsibility he
has to take on. I see what you mean, it is on the outside. And you
find that difficult, you say?
Its hard to reach, its stupid!
Dash, do you agree, is this buckle stupid? Campbell asks him.
He isnt trying to hold back a smile, like he usually is when hes
teasing with Dash alone, hes locked into this fantasy with Olive.
Well, yes I do, Dash says, squatting down next to Campbell to
talk about the matter at hand. But, if you notice all the other
sandals around here, I think the prettiest ones all have the buckle
on the outside too. So its stupid, but stupid is fashionable.
Campbell nods, but mostly to hide the fact that Dash has nearly
gotten him to break his pretend-mask with a smile.
Olive is nodding too. Fashion is stupid, she considers,
eventually agreeing, and telling Dash hes a good thinker. Olive is
the toughest sell for Dash to make. Clementine mostly just wants
him to carry her on his shoulders so she can sit above everyone.
This Dash does whenever they walk from place to place, and by
the time a group of them end up at the carousel, Clementine is
insisting to her mother that Dash is great, as if shes the one who
found him first. Saffron flashes an OK hand sign at Dash, and
collects the girls to get them onto their favorite painted steeds.
Dash and Campbell find one horse big enough to fit them both,
and Campbell sits in front of the pole (really quite against the
pole, the way it ends up fitting right between the cheeks of his
seat as he leans forward over the horses mane to get a look at its
painted face. Dash mounts the horse behind the pole and just
enjoys the view until the ride starts upthats what he always
thought a bachelor party would look like, some guys ass riding a
pole, and here it is! True but not exactly accurate, his
expectations. Dash runs a palm up Campbells spine, and
Campbell comes back to lean against Dash, ignoring the poll in
between them, surrounding it.
Dash nuzzles his face into Campbells hair so he can kiss his
neck in secrecy.
Dont start with that, Campbell says, We wont be home for
hours yet, youre just killing me.
Im happy to blow you in the bathroom, honey, whatever makes
you happy.
The bathroom where my nephew might come in to pee at any
minute? With my whole family like two feet away? Thats sweet
but thats okay.
Prude, Dash teases, before he catches sight of a face he wasnt
expecting. Hed nodded at Earl, the photographer from the paper,
when they first arrived at the park, and that was fine. Their head
waiter was there too since hes a pretty good buddy of both Dash
and Reuben, so it was just a casual get-together of friends and
family . . . so why is Colby here?
When the carousel stops, Dash says to Campbell, Hey, go ask
your sister whats for dinner, would you? Im getting hungry, but I
gotta find the bathroom right now.
Sure, Campbell says, before leaving in the direction opposite of
Colby, which is what Dash was after.
Colby waves a bit, unsure of himself, as Dash approaches. He
speaks first.
I know I wasnt invitedIm not actually here.
Youre not uninvited, either, we liked the article you wrote, lots of
people did.
That title though . . . Colby says.
Im over the title, and if Reuben doesnt have a problem with
being upstaged or whatever, I guess I dont either.
Out-shown, more like. Ive got to tell the best story I can see,
youre a good leading man.
Not everyone thinks so, Dash says, wondering if Chip is here,
on today of all days. If he and Colby are still a thing, he could be
lurking somewhere in this park, hanging out with Dashs friends
and future family, casting a shadow on the day.
Everybody I like thinks so, Colby says. In fact thats how I
ended up hereyou invited Earl to take pictures, and Im seeing
Earl these days.
You and Chip broke up? Dash asks.
We did! It, uh . . . we didnt want the same things, it turns out.
You didnt want him to steal every show? Dash guesses.
Something like that, although I suppose its rather gauche to talk
about your ex with his ex, especially on a day like this, Colby
says with a smile. Id rather say congratulationsI think
Campbells great, and I think you two really deserve each other, in
a good way. Youre each good enough for the other.
Thanks, Dash says, spotting Campbell heading back towards
them, spotting Colby and smiling and waving. Dash feels his face
go silly with a smile just to see him approach. I think Campbells
great too.
After a few group and family photos, Earl is off-duty as their
photographer, and he and Colby are invited to join them all for
some sunset drinks as the evening winds down. Saffron packs up
the youngest kids and takes them home early with kisses all
around. The rest of the guests leave as the drinks dry up and the
sun goes down, until its just Reuben, Rosemary, and Frankie,
and then Reuben takes the kids home, promising them an ice
cream on the long way home so they can finish before their mom
sees them. Dash and Campbell sit for a while longer, enjoying the
twilight.
Best bachelor party Ive ever had, Campbell says, smiling,
happy that hes thought of a joke to make.
Really? My last two or three bachelor parties have been pretty
good, but still, none of them are as good as your first.
Oh, jeez, with you, Campbell says, leaning into the arm that
Dash puts around his shoulders and reaching to squeeze Dashs
thigh. You should take me home now, before Im too sleepy to
have any fun.
Dash rubs up and down Campbells back, kisses the top of his
head, and says, Im having fun right here. Its nice to be lazy
with Campbell knowing that its not now-or-never with him, its just
a matter of now-or-later, just a matter of time, and theyve got
plenty of time now that theyre in this life together.
Campbell was too tired for any more action today. Maybe it was
the sun that made him so sleepy, maybe the drink he had since
hes a lightweight with booze, or maybe its just the sort of
emotional exhaustion that comes with something so
momentousfor whatever reason, he falls asleep with his head
on Dashs shoulder. Dash only wakes him enough to make sure
he holds on when Dash carries him to the car to take him home
again.
12. Home Cooking
With two weeks to go before the wedding, Campbell has a

surprise idea for Dash, and hes so focused on it that he doesnt
realize Dash has a surprise for him too. Hes so invested in hiding
his own secret that he doesnt notice: Dash stashing papers when
he walks into a room; Dash talking in a hushed voice and quickly
hanging up when he sees that Campbell has perked up to the
sound of a conversation taking place; Dash gazing at him when
he isnt looking back, and smiling too fast when hes caught at it.
Campbell is ready to spring his surprise, just waiting for the right
circumstance and about to ask Saffron for her ideas on how to
manipulate men when Dash comes to him and says, Heylets
go for a drive.
Campbell squints, finally suspicious because this has never
happened before. Who goes for a drivewhat is this 1950? But
he gets up from Dashs couch and follows him downstairs to the
car, why not? Hes never yet taken Campbell anywhere he didnt
want to be.
On the drive, with the sun shining and the A/C on full blast, Dash
starts talking. You said youd want a yard, for pets and kids,
right?
Yes, Campbell says, wondering if Dash has already guessed his
surprise and wondering when he might have given the game
away, but Dash keeps talking.
Wed obviously want a serious kitchen, lots of room for lots of
food. And rooms and space for kids, right?
Dash . . . where are we going?
Dash smiles and turns onto Florida Avenue and says, Home, if it
suits you. Four bedrooms, so well be able to fit a lot of people in
here. Yards small but its a corner lot, more space to fudge with.
Kitchens big enough for an island, we can add on as we see fit,
move stuff around.
He pulls alongside a plain little house, nothing much on the
outside, a little stained by rusty water with unkempt grass, but
when Dash dangles the keys and walks them both through the
front door, Campbell sees that the inside is clean and solid
granite counters, freshly painted walls, and cherry-looking
hardwood floors. Dash backs his way through the shotgun layout
of the placethere are three rooms off the living room and
kitchen area, and a master bedroom at the back. Campbell
glances into each one as he follows Dash into the kitchen and
sets his elbows down on the island, for support.
We can live here? Campbell asks. Half of him cant believe it at
allsurely Dash is just being overconfident, just dreaming about
a distant future, how could this ever happen to Campbell in a
day? But the other half of him already believes ithell turn the bit
of grass they do have into a garden, and the kids they have will
grow from room to room, with the oldest near the front door and
the youngest closest to their room, in case theyre needed. The
kids will get to play in the dirt by helping Campbell in the garden,
theyll fill the living room with the softest furniture, slip-covers over
it all so its easy to clean and therefore okay to mess up on. Its
perfect; Campbell can see his whole life here, he can see so
many lives here.
Dash circles the kitchen island watching Campbells face as his
thoughts weave through this place. When he comes to
Campbells side again, he leans to whisper in Campbells ear, So
what do you think?
When can we move in? Campbell whispers.
We can sign the papers on Monday, your sisters been helping
me figure out our financials, she said youd love this place, dont
you just love this pl Dashs talk gets cut off when Campbell
kisses him.
He kisses him deep, feeling like he might start crying if he stops,
but he rides out that feeling until he can stay in control, and only
then lets Dash go so he can kiss the smooth countertop of the
kitchen island, his island, their island paradise.
Dash covers his back with a hug, and runs his hands up and
down Campbells arms before settling around his neck and urging
him to lay flat on the counter. Campbells cock twitches to life
immediately, starts pressing again the towel holder mounted
there, as Dash picks up his arms by the wrist, and slides his
hands almost too far, but still just far enough for Campbell to
grasp the far side of the islands countertop and hold on for dear
life.
Dash rushes to a few cabinets and finds what he needs: a bottle
of cooking oil. He comes back and starts undressing Campbell
from the bottom up, first removing his shoes and socks, then his
pants and underwear, until hes stark naked from the waist down,
and hanging just high enough for his tippy toes to touch the floor.
Dash eases the weight of Campbells grasp by taking Campbells
ass cheeks in hand and lifting and parting them.
He kisses Campbells pucker before he does anything else,
kisses and then licks, full tongue and then little shiver-causing
flicks that make Campbells fingers tighten where they are until his
knuckles go white. The tip of Dashs tongue tries to urge its way
inside of him, and Campbells too tight and too wound up for it to
get very far, but just the feel of it, the thought of Dash tongue-
kissing him there, is enough to make Campbell moan, and
enough to make his cock start to leak.
Dash stands up and Campbell hears him unzip. Campbell
presses his face onto the cool surface of the island, their island, to
try and take the heat out of his burning cheek, and to embrace
this place as much as he canhis new home. His indefinite,
forever home.
Dash strokes the oil onto himself first, and then starts to push his
fingertips inside of Campbell, coating his hole, and then sticking
his first two fingers in all the way up to the base knuckle, all the
way to his palm.
Are you ready? Dash says with a shake in his voice.
Uh huh, Campbell says, feeling too weak for words.
Dash spreads his cheeks apart and enters his hole, slowly
pressing down until his entire shaft is inside of Campbell, filling
him up. Dash stays deep as his hips start to move, just pressing
closer and closer leaning his chest against Campbells back.
Do you like that? he whispers.
Yes, Campbell whimpers.
You like having me inside of you? You like being pinnedhe
thrusts harderand fucked?
I love it, Campbell says. His body jumps with each pump from
Dashs hips, his thrusts getting longer and longer until hes pulling
out to just below the tip of his cock and then ramming full-length
back inside.
Thats good, Dash says, his hands on the counter too, using it
for leverage. Because Im going to fuck you until youre full of
come, do you hear me?
Yes, Campbell says.
And he doesDash fucks Campbell until sweat runs down the
inside of his thighs, and his hole feels hot with the friction, and his
insides feel so stirred up its like everything hes made up of will
slide right out of him the second he stands, and then Dash clamps
both his hands on Campbells shoulders to make sure what he
spills nestles deep inside of his lover, there to stay, to become
part of him.
Dash cools a bit as Campbell hangs on and keeps still; his own
cock is still throbbing beneath the countertops edge. Dash slides
Campbells shirt up and kisses his back, before dropping out of
Campbell fast enough to surprise him, then he walks around to
the other side of the island while he buttons up. He bends down
and turns his head to the side to look at Campbell. Campbells
breath is coming in pants, fogging up the countertop.
Let go, he says. Stand up, take off your shirt, and follow me.
Campbell does what hes told, trembling all the while, and follows
Dash into the living room, moving gingerly around his well-reamed
ass, and happy to see Dash sit down against a vacant wall and
pat his lap.
Campbell tries to lower himself down gently, but Dash snatches
him down and starts kissing his neck ferociously, tweaking his
nipple with one hand and gathering his hair into the other. He
holds Campbells head back firmly, exposing his neck like a
cutthroat would and kissing him there as the other hand trails
down Campbells stomach and starts to squeeze and stroke his
cock.
I love you, Dash whispers as he strokes.
IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou, he mumbles over and over until the
feel of his whispered breath and the strength of his tough hands
take Campbell over the edge of an orgasm that rattles him to the
bone.
Campbell turns in Dashs lap, grabs his face in both hands, and
kisses in between saying, I love you too, as many times as he
can.
By the time they get back into Dashs car hes talking a mile a
minute, about how he and Saffron have been house-hunting so
they could surprise Campbell, how they can both afford it together
(Saffron helped him snoop out those numbers too), about the real
estate lady whos excited to meet him, is tickled that shes selling
both a house and a honeymoon present, and all the while
Campbell is telling Dash where and when to turn, because theyre
not going back to either of their apartments quite yet, but Dash
doesnt realize it until hes pulling into a parking lot.
. . . I think we can be in that house and unpacked before the
wedding, Im serious, and wouldnt it be amazing to get hitched
and come back to our house, how amazing wouldwait, where
are we?
Campbell is smiling wide at Dash, who cuts the ignition and looks
up to see the sign that says Animal Rescue.
Ive been seeing a guy on the side, Campbell says. His name is
Oscar. Hes a Dachshund with silky fur who wiggles when you rub
his tummy. Im in love with him and I want to bring him into our
relationship.
Dash starts laughing so hard that tears leak out of his eyes, and
once hes under control, Campbell gets to tell him the best news
of all.
Our new dog has a last name, he tells Dash as they walk to the
shelters front door. Its Mayer.
Dash thinks for a second, and then rolls his eyes as he smiles.
Oscar Mayer, because hes a wiener dog. Thats quite enough
from you today, he says, throwing an arm over Campbells
shoulder and ushering him inside. When they walk out its with a
wriggling little pup in Campbells arms, and a shopping list so they
can start feeding the little guy right away, playing chew toy tug-of-
war, and watching him sleep on a puppy cushion. Its so much
good news all at once, Campbell can hardly believe hes still alive.
Is this Louisiana or heaven? Its only the humidity that reminds
hes still earth-boundearth-bound and lucky.
The next week is a whirlwindthey start packing right away, and
once the papers are signed, they start moving small stuff in and
making appointments to get the place full of power and water and
internet (priority being internet, of course). Its an exhausting few
days of clearing out their old places, paying out of their old leases,
and sorting their stuff from two households to one: pick the best
coffeemaker, the best bed until they get a new one, the biggest
TV, and donate or trash the rejects. Saffrons kids (mostly
Rosemary) make them a housewarming cake and all sign a card
for themall from the goodness of their hearts, but also purely to
have a reason to come over and play with Oscar.
Nice choice of dog, Saffron says, as she eats a piece of the
housewarming cake (chocolate all over; cant go wrong with
chocolate in this family) and watches her kids all try to woo Oscar
from their siblings. Oscars dizzy with attention, running circles in
the middle of them all. You know why I say that? Saffron asks,
looking directly at Dash, but she doesnt give him enough time to
answer. Because hes clearly good with kids, you understand
me? Like it looks like this dog is going to be deprived unless you
surround the little wiener with tons of kids, okay? I want to be
clear as possible, she says, pointing her fork at Dash and then at
Campbells middle. You put a baby right in there, got it? Hes
already going to fit into his wedding dress, so no worries about
that, get right on it.
Im not wearing a dress, Saffron, am I? Campbell asks. She said
shed pick their outfits, and shes capable of just about anything,
but she doesnt answer him, because shes too busy hearing what
Dash says.
Trust me, sister, I get on that now hes pointing at Campbell
too, a little lower down all the time, dont you worry a bit about
that.
Saucy! Saffron scolds, though shes clearly amused. Id ask you
if you kiss my baby brother with that mouth, but it would just
encourage you, nasty boy.
Who, me? I didnt do it! Frankie says from the living room.
Calm down, Saffron says, Im talking to your uncles, but it
sounds like youve got a guilty conscience out there, so Ive got
my eye on you too. Saffron checks her watch and then takes her
empty plate to the sink. Ten more minutes with Oscar and then
were going home. She kisses Dash and Campbell each on the
cheek and says, Im happy for you both. Im going to cry all
through your wedding, Im so freaking happy.
And then its their first night in their new home together. It was the
bed that needed to be installed before they really lived here,
stayed here, and they did a combination of Dashs mattress and
frame but Campbells sheets and pillows and whatnot (couple of
stuffed animals, some scented bean bag, hell tuck anything soft
and comforting into his bed), and when they turn out the lights
and retire together, its not at all like that first day in the house,
fucking on the only surface in sight as if to mark the place as
theirs. No, the first night seems more sacred than that; less body
and more soul.
They crawl under the covers and hold one another. Dash kisses
him a few times, slow kisses, but they dont even turn into a
make-out session, theyre just gifts. Tiny Oscar comes in at a
certain point and must be lifted onto the bed to be with them, and
Campbell decides right away that theyll need a little puppy
staircase so that Oscar can come and go as he pleases, but he
doesnt have to say that out loud. Dash is probably thinking the
same thing, or at least hed agree, and it simply doesnt have to
be said aloudon their first night in their home, things are both
unspoken and understood.
13. Hard Work
Dash loves his jobit is literally his dream job. Hes always
wanted it, he worked hard for it, that work took years to
accomplish, and should have taken longer without an amazing
amount of luck and help. Most days being at work feels exactly
like being at home, a second home.
But that was before he had a home like the one hes sharing with
Campbell. Like, no shit he didnt mind leaving his bachelor place,
the whole apartment was like an empty refrigerator. It wasnt a big
wrench to leave that ice box for the heat and bustle of Simmer
Downs kitchen, a place where he could hang out with his best
friends and hear gossip from the staff and get complimented on
his food sometimes, and make money the whole time before,
coming home to decompress again.
But now that he lives with someone else . . . its different. Hes not
complaining, but its definitely not the same.
His house is no longer the place where he spends his alone time,
the time anyone needs to be bored, sloppy, silent, whatever, to be
human and reenergize for the world at large. But now when he
comes home hes consumed by being with Campbell, and with
playing with the dog, and he loves that time, and he prefers it
overwhelmingly to going to work all of a sudden, but that just
means his life is a whirlwind now. He talks to people all day, and it
gets exhausting by the end of every work week, and when he only
has so much energy to spend, hed rather spend it with Campbell.
The only days he didnt like walking into work before this were
days when he was hung over, in pain from overindulgence, but he
was never grouchy, just dehydrated. On Mondays, his last day
before his days off, he can actually feels resentful. Its a brand
new problem to have.
But its a good problem, a first world, top class, best-in-show-kind
of problem. Its like having too many beautiful clothes than there
are days in the year, or too much cash to fit into just one wallet.
Hes got too many friends than waking hours to spend with them,
nice problem! But he doesnt realize just how lucky he is until hes
reminded that not everyone is his friend.
Dash comes into work on the Monday before the weekend of his
wedding, and hes dying for his Tuesday and Wednesday breaks.
Theyre barely going to be breaks at allhes got chores to do,
phone calls to make, crap to pick up (not crap, nice things for his
wedding, but it would still be nicer if the stuff would magically
transport itself into his house without Dash having to leave his
sanctuary and go and drag it all back), so he is in a touchy mood
while he cooks. The best he can do is keep his mouth shut and
answers questions in grunts so that he doesnt snap at anyone.
Hes almost gotten through the day without incident, but towards
the end of the night, when food orders start winding down and
Dash can step out to the bar for a drink, he overhears a nearby
conversation. Its whispered, because its about him, but its not
meant to be heard by him. Dash never would have heard them if
hed stayed in the kitchen, but sitting at the bar with his back to
this table of gossipers, he gets an earful.
Look, the food is fine, but its not that good, you know? That
review was practically a hand job for this place.
Thats what I hear is actually behind it, you know how the chef
was written like some big hero in the piece, its because he was
flirting with the writer. Now I dont know for sure, right, but my
friend was seeing that writer, and now hes not, you know?
Suddenly the guy breaks up with him, says he met someone on a
job, and then off he goes with another guy, and its not hard to
guess who.
Reuben is hearing this too, but hes used to hearing troubling talk
as a bartender, so his face is impassive, watching Dashs for
reaction. He knows Dash has been on edge all day, all week, and
might be very tempted to lose his temper now.
Reuben pours a nice helping of whiskey and sets it in front of
Dash with a whispered, Numb yourself with this, let me handle it.
Reuben walks down the bar a few paces where hes closest to the
table of gossipers and says, I remember that writer coming
through here, he did swap boyfriends, but for the photographer,
not the subject. Chef Reese is getting married this weekend, and I
doubt hes inviting the papers to cover it.
Pff, how well do you even know the guy? Because honestly,
marriage doesnt mean squat to people anymore, and the way
this writer was thinking about him, and the fact that he was after
the photographer too? I mean he sounds like a bit of a hound dog,
chasing after everybody. Easy to fall prey to those types, it
happened to my friend, and my friends smart as a whip, he got
used.
So youre friends with Chip? Dash finally asks loudly, not turning
around. How well do you know him?
Oh my god, its the chef, how embarrassing, says the other guy
at the table. Sorry, he mumbles towards Dash and starts pulling
out his wallet and looking around to pay the check and escape.
I am friends with Chip, and he told me more about you than I
even care to say. You two went out for a while, but as soon as
you got your nice restaurant and became a big shot, suddenly you
two were no more.
Big shot, Dash thinks as he down his big shot of whiskey and
gestures for another one from Reuben. Yeah, really big shot,
pining over goddamn Chip for too long and then so desperate for
love for so many years I thought I was a terminal bachelor, and
the second my life turns around, here comes Chip again, ruining
every good day Ive earned. Hes cooking himself into a fit of rage.
Rueben knows the signs of this, and he watches Dash nearly
helplessly, but still hopeful that tonight will be different, as he
refills Dashs glass and lets him do what he must.
Chip and I did break up after the restaurant opened, Dash says,
then takes a gulp to turn around and face his accuser. Hes seen
pictures of this guy, but he never met many of Chips friends,
because Chip barely knows his friends himself, all of his
relationships are shallow at the end of the day. This guys name is
Keith? No, Heath, like the candy bar. Dash is pretty sure his name
is what Chip liked best about this guy, because it meant he could
introduce them as Heath Bar and Chocolate Chip, whatever the
hell he thought was funny about that. Heath purses his lips a little
bitchily and doubles down on his totally unfounded accusations.
I guess you let your work take all your attention and forgot about
the man in your life, Heath says. Chip deserves better than that,
but he keeps meeting you catch-and-release types, just in it until
you find something better.
Dash cant believe hes hearing this, when he was the one totally
blindsided by the break-up, tossed away as if by some whim.
Reuben knows what really went down, and Heaths companion is
cringing with embarrassment at this point, looks like he wants to
crawl out of his skin and into a nice dark, cool gutter. But Heath is
dug into his opinion and wouldnt be convinced by any fact or
emotional appeal. Chip is like that too, Dash realizes, and he cant
believe he spent so much time caring about someone who wasnt
invested at all, who has only enough heart to feel slighted, and
not enough to give.
Dash starts to sneer, and when his face breaks like that he can
feel tears coming up next, so he bites down on his lips and
gestures to Reuben: he points at his glass and then holds up two
fingers, and then points to two spots on the bar. Two more of
what Im having.
Reuben doesnt know whats up, but he puts a finger of whiskey
each in two more glasses, and watches Dash pick them up and
take them to Heath and Company. He sets them on the table in
front of each of his customers, hoping that thinking of them as
impersonal customersand some customers are more belligerent
than this, its just part of the joband not a personal attack on a
day in a week that should be one of his happiest.
I hope you enjoyed your meal this evening, Dash says. Please
enjoy a drink on the house before you go.
The guy out to dinner with Heath starts to reach for his glass in
little timid movements like, Maybe? Maybe the tension will break
right now, and theyll have a drink and everyone walks away
going, Well, that was odd, but thats life in the Big Easy! Some
platitude, something you can brush off before returning back your
own life.
Heath doesnt allow it.
We dont want these, Heath says, pushing his drink away, and
glaring at his companion to do the same. The companion does,
his face flushing with even more embarrassment. Not all of us
turn to alcohol to solve our problems.
Dash starts to sneer again, and this time it goes the other way, it
almost breaks into hysterical laughter. One bitter laugh escapes
before he picks up one glass and then the other, downing them
both in one gulp.
Heaths face is haughty, like hes proven a point and cant wait to
text Chip all about it. His companion just shakes his head like he
cant believe how badly this all went. Dash grabs a bottle from
behind the bar, ignoring Reubens caution of, Dash, you dont
need that, and calling a cab to take him back to his old empty
place, hoping the key still works so he can hide from the world.
He key does still work, the place is his until the end of the month,
paid already, lease unbroken until then. Its empty, but Dash lets
himself inside and starts to pace, first swigging with his shoes on,
then slowly discarding his cumbersome clothes as he continues to
drink. The blackout comes on and blots out most of the night, but
he does remember drinking water from the running kitchen faucet
the way only a pet should do, and then waking up with a dried
sponge for a brain, wearing his pants but not his underwear, with
of a full bottle gone. At some point hed gotten totally naked,
and then put only his pants back on, and he doesnt know why.
He knows exactly why he drank nearly a full bottle of whiskey,
though, and he starts suckling at it again even though hes
dehydrated and probably too sick to cure with anything but a
coma.
He paced around his old apartment all night, just remembering
the person hes been these past few years, the bachelor chef. Its
nothing he isnt happy to leave behind, its nothing compared to
what he has with Campbell, but he still cant believe he spent so
many of his young, vital years in this empty stasis. And even
though he has Campbell now, he indulges in the horrible fantasy
of never finding him or anyone, of having to be this person
forever, because that might have happened! Chip and his shitty
friend remind Dash of that, the fact that hes not complete without
other people, and that feels weak to know; never mind that no
man is an island, and all the people in his life would tell him, Duh,
Stupid! Wed all be lost without each other, wed be lost without
you! Dash can know that all day long, but he cant always feel it.
By the time the bottle is empty and Dash is dreading what hell
have to do to recover (either dry out or get another bottle and
some supplies, but either way hell have to get dressed and go
out and be coherent enough to make purchases), theres a gentle
knock at the door and the knob turns. He forgot to lock it after
walking in. His keys, in fact, have been left in the doorknob all
night and day, he forgot about them. Its Campbell who comes in
pocketing the keys, looking around at the knotted clothes and
reaching into a canvas shopping bag to pull some items out and
set them down in a line on the floor at his feet. Dash stays
slumped against a wall, watching him.
A bottle of Gatorade, a bag of baby carrots, a container of
hummus, a travel kit with body wash, toothpaste, and a foldable
toothbrush, and the last item: a three-pack of clean underwear.
He sets them all down, and then sets himself down cross-legged
and looks at Dash, and waits.
Dash bursts into tears.
Campbell stays where he is, which is smart, maybe Reuben
warned him about how to deal with a mid-bender drunk, and waits
for Dash to wind down and say what he has to say.
I didnt mean to, is what Dash has to say. I didnt make any of
my pick-ups today, Im so sorry . . . wait, is it Tuesday? Its not
Wednesday, is it?
Its not Wednesday, Campbell reassures him. And Reuben
picked up that stuff, hes a good friend.
I didnt want you to know I was like this, Dash confesses. I
didnt want you to know I was this weak.
After a moment of silence and contemplation, Campbell finally
speaks.
Before I met you I kissed one of my customers, Campbell says.
I didnt ask or anything, Im pretty sure thatd be sexual assault if
I wasnt so pathetic, but I thought I was being brave, looking for
love, whatever. Ive always had Saffron to pick me up after stuff
like that, and who have you had?
Dash looks around at the empty room, all the nothing in this
place, and says, No one.
Campbell nods. Thats not true anymore, because you have me.
Dash laugh/sobs to hear that, he cant tell what hes feeling, but
he knows its intense.
I love you, Dash says, and that is when Campbell truly smiles.
I know you do, now tell me what you need first: a shower, a drink,
or a snack?
Dash smiles too as he drags himself upright, feeling a towering
depth of gratitude, feeling truly loved.
14. My Gourmet Groom
Campbell drives Dash home (badly, hes not good at driving) after
he takes a Gatorade into the shower while Campbell cleans up
the empty apartment. Reuben and Saffron sat him down when
Dash didnt come home to tell him what was up.
The thing about Dash, Reuben told him, standing in Campbells
new living room with Saffron standing arms-crossed by his side,
and this hasnt been a problem since he met you, but hes
basically a functional alcoholic. He always managed to make it to
work and everything, but he wasnt happy, not really. He came to
work to take up time in between drinking, basically, nothing else
made him feel anything without being hurt more than he could
stand. Like, the hang overs were nothing compared to being shot
down for a date, or going home alone to do what? His taxes?
Watch TV? Little things werent enough for him and the big things
were too catastrophic, it was a pretty bad cycle, but I knew it
couldnt last forever. I knew eventually hed find someone like you
and have a reason to be sober, its . . . last night, that jerk in the
restaurant, it reminded him of his old life, his old habits.
I dont want you to excuse him too much, Saffron said. Reuben
says this guy at the restaurant really hit all his triggers, and Id
trust for now, trust him, but dont let his bad habits ever become
yours, you hear me? I know nobodys perfect, Ive got my
weaknesses too, the other day I sling-shotted a pair of dirty
underpants at Frankie to get him to clean up his damn room,
thats probably not good parenting, so no one heres a saint, but
be careful. If youre always picking him up Im going to step in and
regulate.
What like sling-shot dirty underpants at us until were acting
right? Campbell said, sitting on his couch in pajamas, Oscar
nestled in his lap like a hot dog in a bun, trying to deflect with
humor the sudden sadness he felthed been waiting for Dash to
come home and join him, and Dash wasnt coming that night, and
he wasnt going to call and tell Campbell about it either, and
instead an intervention walked in, and that didnt feel right at all.
Reuben said hed pick up the wedding stuff Dash was supposed
to do, Saffron said shed be by in the morning to take Campbell
shopping for drunk supplies and to drop him off at Dashs old
place. Reuben swore hed be there, that there was nowhere else
Dash would go.
He drinks alone, thats part of the problem, its not a social thing,
its just . . . he cant trust company sometimes. Dudes too
sensitive for his own good most of the time, but he loves you.
Dont let him fuck that up, okay?
Okay, Campbell said. He got a couple of hugs, but he still had to
spend the night alone, with Oscar licking one or two tears off his
face. His next night is so much better.
Dash walks him through the drive home, makes sure they dont
crash, but its Tuesday mid-day traffic, its not so bad, and once
theyre inside their house, Campbell is weirdly happy. Hes just so
glad that last night is in the past, and that right at this moment
Dash is nestled in bed, about to be brought some soup (mostly
from a can, but Campbell heated it up without burning it, thats a
win), and he brings it in on a tray table, and then joins Dash and
Oscar in bed, in a cuddle nest. Campbell sits cross-legged but
doesnt nestle in with them quite yet.
When Dash is done eating and back to resting on his pillow,
petting Oscar and gazing at Campbell, its finally time to talk.
Tell me about you and Chip, Campbell says.
Dash rolls his eyes back and turns away in an instantthat
request has broken whatever spell he was enjoying, and he
clearly doesnt want to talk about his past. But too bad! If he didnt
need to talk about his past, he wouldnt be repeating it like this.
Campbell does him the mercy of speaking first.
My first love was this guy who transferred to my high school
senior year. He was from New Orleans, but his parents were
separated, and his dad got a new job in Los Angeles, and so he
had to move and transfer for a year to finish high school. He was
already planning to go straight to L.A. when he graduated, we
never should have started anything, but, you know. I was so
stupid for him, so smitten. Like, first of all his name was
Huckleberry, I never got over that.
What, like the character? Dash asks, engaged in the story even
if he doesnt want to have this conversation.
Yeah, that dad of his was an English professor, so that was his
name. He always wanted people to call him Barry and never
Huck, who wants that? No one ever called him Barry here, were
all too loyal to the Mississippi for that betrayal, right? I just . . . I
couldnt get enough of him. Tall, gangly mess of hair and elbows,
I didnt want to do anything but make out with him for six straight
months until graduation. And the night we graduated . . . hmm.
We skipped the senior party and had sex in his car underneath
the most beautiful tree. I mean moonlight flickering in the leaves,
just bright enough through the windows to see what we were
doing, and then he moved to L.A. about four days later, and Ive
never seen him again. Hes probably Barry by now, someone
else, whoever he wants to be. I didnt . . . I didnt want to know
anyone else for at least a year. I mean, how can being in love with
someone not work out like that? But I wanted him! And I also
wanted to always live at home, and wanted to think of him as
Huck instead of Barry, and so basically I wanted what I couldnt
have. Do you know what I mean?
Dash smiles, his face full of gratitude, because he understands
what Campbells told him: were not that different, we both want
the same things and have been burned before, were in this
together.
Yeah, I know what you mean, Dash says. Campbell wishes he
could take a picture of Dash like this, soft and tender with his
precarious hang over, but with puppy Oscar laying belly-up in the
crook of his arm, and his hair curling around his head like a
crown, vulnerable but really starting to trust Campbell to see it,
and protect him.
Tell me about you and Chip, Campbell requests again.
Dash nods, and looks away as he starts talking.
Hes the one who asked me out, and that had never happened
before. Im always the one begging for a date, and most of them I
got just out of amusement. Reuben says Im too good-looking to
take seriously, which doesnt sound like a problem, but it can be
sometimes. People would go on dates with me like they were
one-night stands, and thats never what I meant when I asked a
guy out, I wanted . . . to talk to them. I wanted to fuck them too,
every time, but I just wanted to know them, you know? Inside and
outside, every which way, and they never took me seriously.
And then Chip! He was at the bar Reuben worked at before the
restaurant became a reality, and he listened to us talking about
our plans for an entire night, whenever Reuben wasnt serving we
were planning, and when it was closing time Chip sort of sidled up
to me and wrote his phone number on a coaster and said
something like, Id like to get to know you, if you want to know
me, heres my number, and then just sashayed out, probably
knowing we were watching him.
I texted him three times that night, no response, and then called
him the next day and we agreed to brunch at Shuck OffI was
apologizing right away for texting him so much, but he seemed to
think the attention was due to him, right? Its like he was just
amusing me by letting me like him so much.
Dash clams up for a minute after saying that, and squeezes
Oscar and kisses the top of his velvety-soft puppy head.
He never took me seriously, I got duped, Dash says next, his
voice thick with held-back tears. He thought me and Reuben
might be a big deal, hes a user, even with Colby thats all it
wasColbys a nice guy, we both like him! And Chip was only
after him because hes an up-and-comer, and he wanted to show
him off to me like hed moved on to better, and I should feel bad
for Chip and happy for myself and guys like Colby, right? I should
be happy we move on and just pity Chip because he never does,
but . . . then his awful friend was in my restaurant, talking shit
about me in my own place, when I should be free to be who I am
with you and it just . . . it dredged up an old injury. Im so sorry,
Campbell.
Im not, Campbell says, finally unwinding and burrowing under
the covers so he and Dash can gaze at each other on pillow-to-
pillow level, as Oscar squirms out of the crush of their bodies and
decides to go sleep in his own bed.
Why not? Dash asks.
Campbell pulls himself closer, so they can wrap their arms around
one another, before he answers.
We know each other better now, we should know everything we
can before we get hitched, dont you think? I cant believe youre
the one who had a cold-feet freak out though, Id have guessed it
would have been me, running home to Saffron, afraid to grow up.
Is that what this was, I had cold feet? Dash laughs a tiny bit. I
dont know, I wanted to marry you the whole time, I just didnt
think I deserved you.
That sounds exactly like cold feet, Campbell says before
springing up out of bed. Oh here, look at our outfits, Reuben
dropped them off, were going to look so good.
Arent I not supposed to see your outfit before the ceremony? Its
bad luck.
Campbell snorts as he pulls two tuxedoes zipped into the same
skin out of the closet, and takes them out and hangs them over
the back of the door where they can look at them from bed. He
crawls back under the covers with Dash and they gaze at the
suits like theyre watching TV.
We dont need traditions that dont work for us, and I think that
superstition is about seeing the bride in the dress before the
wedding, but thats a superstition from the days when you werent
supposed to see the bride out of clothes before the wedding
either, and weve already broken that rule, havent we?
We sure have, Dash agrees, but youre not my bride youre my
groom. My gourmet groom.
Gourmand groom, unless you mean to eat me because Im so
delicious, Campbell says with a smile.
Oh, okay, so I was right the first time, Dash says, nibbling on
Campbells ear.
They go quiet for a minute or two after that, looking at their
tuxedoes. The color scheme, Saffron finally had to tell them, is
bruise chicblues and purples and black. White weddings are
for lily-white, boring people, we live in a swamp, we eat like kings,
lets pomp it up a bitit doesnt have to be Mardi Gras but it
doesnt have to be boring either. And so both tuxedoes are all
black, and come with black shirts and black dress socks and
black shoes, but theres piping on each ones lapelsDashs that
sort of vacation ocean blue, and Campbells an amethyst shade of
purpleand candy-cane-style striped ties; the big stripe is blue on
Dashs tie, purple on Campbells, but both are wound together
with the other color in a pretty obvious kind of symbolism on the
occasion of a wedding.
How many other guys have you been with? Campbell asks. He
doesnt want to ruin their cozy moment, but its now or never with
finding out about each other before they commit for life, and hes
not going to flinch in the face of the truth, hes made of stronger
stuff than that, and they both have to be.
Dash sighs heavily, the rise and fall of his chest actually bobs
Campbell up and down once since hes resting against Dash.
I have to count, give me a second. Dash holds up one hand and
starts ticking off fingers, then he holds up the other hand and
does the same, until hes out of fingers and still counting, now in
his head. Not counting you, Dash says when hes done tallying,
its been fourteen other guys.
How many of them were boyfriends? Campbell asks.
Just Chip, thats probably what hurt so much about that whole
situation. I thought I was done searching, Ive always been
looking for that, but sex is so much easier to get, you know? Id
get lonely, and Id take anything I could get and just hoped it
would lead to something real, but it never did. It killed me not to
go to bed with you the first night, that was a sweet, sweet agony,
but I just couldnt keep repeating the same pattern. The last guy
before you was this waiter Id been smitten with for months, I
finally plucked up the courage to ask him out, and it turned out he
was about to leave the country indefinitely. So it was either sex or
nothing, and something always feels better than nothing, at first.
Dash starts tucking Campbells hair behind one ear, just a reason
to comb his fingers through it. What about you, how many other
guys?
Two, Campbell says. Ive dated a few more, but just casual
stuffa few coffee dates that petered out to nothing, dinners that
werent worth repeating. It was Huck from high school, and the
other guy was . . . he was really sweet, and he was quite a bit
older than me, older than we are now, and I dont regret being
with him or anything, he treated me so well, like I was some
precious doll, but that was the problemhe just wanted to admire
me, he didnt want to actually know me, and its not like we were
really set up to be equals anyway, to really share a partnership,
we had nothing in common and nothing to talk about and he had
too much money to ever work with me for anything.
Theres no such thing as too much money, Dash says,
squeezing Campbell closer, giving him a hug.
There is when its enough to make life pointless, Campbell says.
He could buy and sell stores like mine, it wouldnt have meant
anything to him, when to me its like a family homeweve lived in
houses and trailers and apartments and whatnot through the
years, but that place has been ours for three generations because
it has to be maintained.
Like a garden, Dash says.
You know I really want to start a garden, Campbell says.
Yeah, I was thinking about that the other day, it doesnt have to
be all veggies and spices, right? Like, lets have a couple of spots
for flowers; we can put them on the dining room table too, just as
a centerpiece instead of a meal, agreed?
Agreed, that all sounds like a good idea to me.
And suddenly the spell of the past is broken, because theyre
talking about the future.
15. Wedding Cake
The day of their wedding arrives. A sign goes up on the

restaurants front doors saying theres a private party, and
decorations appear on the tables and a trellis goes up near the
picture window, but not much else is altered. Why set up the
place like pews in a church when theyll hold the wedding and
reception right here? Why assign seats when its a pretty small
group of people, why not just reserve the front tables for families
and let the waiters sit people like they usually do? So much
tradition and to-do has already been thrown out; theyre free to
keep only what they like. People can eat all through the ceremony
if they want to, they will have hors doeuvres on stands on the
table, replaced when they get empty, and small menus to order
whatever they want off of, no need to decide in advance. Its
going to be like a party where in the middle he and Campbell will
stand up, marry, and kissno problem, no drama. In fact they
even decided not to write any vows, since Saffron ordained
herself online through some hippie church so she could marry
them herself, and shell have plenty to say for the both of them.
No more than one toast for each groom, one from Saffron, one
from Reuben, then desert and an open bar, mill and talk and
laugh and congratulate them: perfect wedding.
Thats what Dash wants and what he expects. Saffron was careful
to make sure there werent too many moving parts to this night.
The simpler the better, harder for anything to go wrong, and so of
course its right before the party starts, when guests are being
ticked off the list and seated, and snacks and drinks are being
delivered to them, and Campbell and Dash are in different parts of
the building getting ready (Campbells in that coat room they
never use, Dash is in the locker room), thats when Reuben
comes by with a light knock on the door and says, Tiny snag.
How tiny? Dash says, hoping thats its just some ten-minute
delay because of a stain or the playlist is being finicky for the
speaker system, but Reuben just makes a wry face.
Very tiny, but youre really not going to like it.
Its Chip. Hes out loitering in the parking lot, I figured Id tell you
first before I did anything, but if you let me, Ill go get him to leave
and thatll be the end of it.
No, Ill go, Dash says. Hes just finished putting on his tux and
mostly hopes he doesnt end up standing outside long enough to
get it sweaty. He feels like he can do this today; Campbell knows
everything about Dash that hed be ashamed to tell, and if Chip
cant touch that, what power does he have? None at all.
Dash walks out into the bright sun, blinking around, before he
sees that Chip has set himself on a planter a few feet from the
front door, just people-watching the guests as they arrive with his
ankles and arms crossed, like a judgmental garden gnome. Dash
approaches him with his hands in his pockets, touching the rings
for comfort and strength. Theyll go into the recipe box so Saffron
can present them for the exchange, but for now Dash holds onto
them, guarding them and making sure theyre real. He feels
comfortable knowing theyre there when he stops a few paces in
front of his ex. Chip speaks first.
Youre wearing all black to your own wedding? Chip asks. Chip
is wearing the kind of outfit youd wear on a yacht, and hes not
blindhe knows this tux isnt all black, hes just being kind of a
bitch. This weddings happening pretty fast, what did you do,
knock that guy up? Dash doesnt say anything to that either.
What if he had knocked up Campbell? They want kids anyway,
and plentylots of beautiful, curious kids to hug and tease and
feed and show the city to; thatd only be the best wedding present
ever. Anyway, I heard you were awfully rude to my friend the
other night, Chip says, still trying to provoke Dash.
He was rude to me. Chip smirks to finally get a reply from Dash,
but Dash is only stating a fact, hes not here to argue.
He said you were drunk, that you tore off with a bottle in your
hand. Still have that drinking problem, Dash?
I blacked out at least half the night, Dash admits. I didnt even
call Campbell, missed picking up this suit, it was Reuben that
went and got it for me. Im not that good at letting the past go, I
guess.
Chips lips sourhe cant rightly claim that hes good at such a
thing, showing up uninvited to his exs wedding.
Well, thats true, Chip says when he finally thinks of a new plan
of attack. You messed up my relationship with Colby.
Dash smiles (its nearly a smirk) to hear Chip take that tact.
Colbys RSVPd to the wedding, want me to see if hes arrived,
so you guys can talk it out?
Oh, so you admit to it, you poisoned him against me!
Dash shakes his head. You brought him to my spot, you got
jealous when he had a big news story, youre probably the one
who forced him away just like you broke up with me, and hes only
here because hes dating our photographer, and because hes
friends with Campbell.
Chip scoffs and stands up after thatapparently he doesnt want
to be confronted with two exes at once, itll be hard to win that
crowdand departs with saying, If I were you Id worry they were
fooling around together, and that only makes Dash laugh.
Thats true, Chip, you would think that! Chip gets into his car and
leaves, and Dash walks back inside wiping his eyes from the
laughter. Reuben looks concerned that Dash might actually be
crying, but he smiles when Dash meets his best friends eyes and
says, Chip has left the parking lot.
Reuben smiles at him, an almost fatherly sort of smile, one of
pride. Look, I dont want to get any more tears going or anything,
but . . . I love you, man. Youre my brother, you know, you really
are, and fucking Campbell . . . the two of you are going to be
perfect together, like those little salt and pepper shakers that look
like pilgrims for Thanksgiving, youre just a perfect pair, and
nevermind that you and him are the reason Ive got Saffron now, I
just . . . its not even like youve made my year, or my career, its
like youve made my whole life.
Dash sticks out a hand to shaketheyre really not huggers, not
even on today of all days, but they can certainly exchange a very
close handshake and back pat. Congratulations all around.
Dash glances towards the coat room and sees nothing put a small
mirror held around the corner, with a fragment of Campbells face
in it, before its snatched backCampbell was listening. It nearly
makes Dash blush to think he would care to know who Dash is
when Campbell isnt in the room. He loves that man, and so its
time to marry him.
The ceremony happens right at the top of the partyeveryones
seated, introduced to their tablemates, popping stuffed
mushrooms and bacon-wrapped scallops into their mouths,
enjoying their drinks, and so Saffron stands at the trellis and waits
for silence. Dash has dropped the rings into the recipe box and
handed it off to Reuben, and now he waits to be summoned.
Friends and family, welcome! Saffron says. Were here to
celebrate the union of Chef Dashiell Reese, she waves and Dash
walks out to stand next to her, and my baby brother, Campbell
Baker.
They did manage to keep an aisle for this part. Dash had to walk
just a few feet from the kitchen and beyond the bar, Campbell has
to walk from the front door all the way through the dining room,
and he does it with Oscar Mayer the pup in his arms instead of a
bouquethe said he wanted the whole family involved, and so
they went with it. Dash leans to kiss Oscar on the head, and
Campbell does the same before passing him off to Saffrons kids,
who leash him and give him some treats so hell stay happy. Their
audience is cooing already.
Now I hate to do this, but Im holding a recipe box with wedding
rings inside, a box given to Dash by his grandmother, with which
he used to propose to Campbell. Honestly, a good relationship
really does take a full recipeyou need the right ingredients to
balance each other out, strong with gentle, sweet with spicy, and
you cant really combine the two without heat. Saffron pauses as
this line gets a laugh, and she glances at Dash and Campbell
before continuing. Simmer down, all of you, she says, and that
gets another laugh that she waits out.
Seriously though, these two already have a give-and-take, they
already fit like two peas in a pod, two spoons in a drawer, two
men made for each other. The joking tone ends when she says
that, and the groom gets solemn. May I have your hands,
gentlemen?
Dash and Campbell hold out their hands as if they might shake,
but wait. Saffron opens the recipe box and places the other mans
ring in each hand, so they can exchange them.
With this ring, I thee wed, Saffron says.
With this ring, I thee wed, Dash says, and puts his ring on
Campbell.
With this ring, I thee wed, Campbell says, sliding Dashs ring on
and then holding on to his hand.
Saffron surrounds their hands with hers and says, By the powers
invested in me by the internet and the state of Louisiana, I
pronounce thee married for life. Now, kiss the groom.
This kiss is one of the sweetest kisses of Dashs life, and the
room bursts into applause to see it.
The night is festive, and half the time Dash forgets its his own
wedding hes at, because it starts to feel like a birthday or a send-
off at times, just any old fun reason for family to come together. It
isnt until the cake is rolled out that Dash is totally grounded in
where he is, as he and Campbell come together to ceremoniously
cut the first piece, and then each pick up a bit of that piece to
hand-feed each other.
Its silly! Its silly and its meant to be silly, and if it gives Dash a
perverse little thrill to be turned on by having his finger in his
husbands (his husbands) mouth, all the more fun, no harm done,
but the kiss afterwards, with cherry-flavor-tinted icing in both their
mouths? That makes him want to ditch everyone else he knows,
pack him, Campbell, and Oscar in a convertible or something, and
just peel out of town and never look back. Like: half Thelma and
Louise, half Butch and Sundance, lets get the hell out of here,
partner!
But it isnt until hours later, after everyone but Saffron, Rueben,
and staff go home, that theyre even remotely alone enough to
talk on their big day. Dash is holding a drink hes not even sure he
wants a sip ofhe sat down with it out of habit, but what does he
really need it for? Campbell finishes tucking Oscar into his carrier
with some water and a sleepy towel until its time to head home,
and then he sits down at a table of festive debris right next to
Dash, and picks up a cold hor doeuvre, and eats it with a shrug
even though its probably a little dried out by now. Dash sets the
drink in front of him and says, Campbell, do you drink at all?
Its been known to happen. Once in high school, Saffron nearly
killed me when she caught me smelling like beer, and of course
when I turned twenty-one. That older guy I told you about, he
always gave me a scotch and soda when we met, but Im sure it
was pretty light on scotch, and even then I wasnt that into it.
Whats this, is this scotch? he asks, picking up Dashs glass.
No, forget scotch, only lawyers and judges drink that crap in
America.
Campbell laughs. He was a lawyer.
I know, I just told you, no one else drinks that stuff. What youre
holding is bourbon whiskey, American whiskey, Kentucky or
Tennessee, thats my kind of whiskey.
Okay, let me try this then, Campbell says, taking a sip and then
exhaling like he expects to breathe flames like a dragon.
Not your favorite? Dash asks with a smile.
I cant even taste it, everything it touched is numb now!
Oh no! So you cant feel this? Dash asks before leaning over to
kiss him, tasting whiskey on his lips, but loving the kiss, the taste
of lovers spit, way more.
How awful, Dash, Campbell says with a smile, I didnt feel that
at all, youll have to do it again, please.
Oh no, really? Yeah, we better try again, Dash says, and
imagines they could do this for about an hour, but Saffron steps in
first.
Theres such as thing as too cute, boys, its called saccharine,
okay? Sugar. Too sweet, too much sugar, take that sugar home
right now.
Yeah, get a room, Reuben says, coming up to clap both grooms
on their shoulders. Honeymoon, gents! Youre wasting time, get
moving.
The four of them exchange a circle of hugs at the front door, and
then Reuben and Saffron physically push him and Campbell out
the front door and lock it behind them.
Ive got the keys, Dash says. Cant have you driving under the
influence.
Campbell giggles and ruffles Dashs hair, something hes never
done before, and it delights Dash more than it should because . . .
how many more small surprises like that are in store for them?
This journey of discovery might never end.
Part III:
16. The Honey Pot
Campbell used to think that a honeymoon without travel would be

sad. So like: you get married, and its the first amazing day of the
rest of your new life . . . and then you just go home and change
for bed like its any other day? Wouldnt that be disappointing?
Wouldnt it just ruin the spell you had created with your wedding,
and wouldnt it be better to keep that magic going by first down
the aisle and then down a runway? Why even go home at all? It
would just bring you back to your own, average reality again.
But thats the thing: Campbell was underestimating how much he
would like his reality once he was in love. Now hes thinking, Why
would I want to leave my perfect sanctuary of a house to go screw
in some foreign hotel? Why would I ever want to leave Oscar
behind just to spend the first week of my new life somewhere
else? Campbell wouldnt choose to be anywhere but here,
especially since getting somewhere else would involve travel and
check-ins and mandatory exploration for food and touristy pictures
and why? Why would Campbell volunteer for that much time in
public spaces when all he really wants to do is being alone with
Dash? Lock the doors and draw the blinds as far as hes
concerned. The only time he needs to see daylight is if they run
out of food and have to open the door for a delivery.
Their wedding night is no big night of passion, and Saffron
warned him of this. She said, Youll be exhausted from the whole
shebang, dont bother forcing itdrink some water, take a vitamin
or something, and go to bed, and wake up refreshed and ready to
wreck each other in the morning.
Come on, Saffron, youre my sister, dont get so colorful about
how I . . . get wrecked, jeez.
But of course all she did was smile and say, The time for being
shy is over, dear, youre no blushing maiden anymore, youre
married, time to get frank with what you like and how you want
itmake sure you run that house before you fill it with kids,
because theyll all fight you for the throne. She shook her head
affectionately at her own brood, and lapsed into silence.
Wait, Campbell said. Did you just manage to call me a queen?
Saffron smirked. Better a queen than a maid, its a good position,
dont worry about it.
She was right about the wedding night at leastwhen he and
Dash get home its all they can manage to get out of their fancy
clothes, make sure Oscar has water in his bowl, kill the lights, and
crawl into bed. Campbells pretty sure they both fell asleep right in
the middle of their goodnight kiss. But the next days much better
already.
Campbell wakes in bed alone, but he doesnt feel alone for a
second because he can hear noises and smell food scents
coming from the kitchen. Quiet noises to be sure, and delicious
scents, and Campbell takes the opportunity to roll over to Dashs
side of the bed, to lay on his pillow and wallow in his scent. He
hears the jingle of Oscars collar tags in the kitchen, where of
course hed be nosing around for some extra food, but he comes
running into the bedroom and squirming up his puppy steps a few
vital seconds before Dash comes in, which gives Campbell just
enough time to roll back to his side of the bed and pretend hes
only just woken up.
Dash comes in with a short tray table that he sets over
Campbells lap without a word, not even a good morning. Hes
smiling like a fool when he puts down a mug of sugary coffee,
with cream and . . . cinnamon? Thats a nice touch.
Dash leaves the room again and comes back with a huge
platterthe kind you could serve a turkey oncovered in
breakfast foods. He sets it down with one hand and holds up a
finger so Campbell will wait, then leaves and comes back with a
plastic caddy full of orange juice in two squeeze bottles, spray
butter, maple syrup, a bottle of milk and one of their flowering
weeds from the yard in one of Campbells many vases (he thinks
theyre pretty, likes to collect them.) At last Dash sits cross-legged
across the tray from Campbell and speaks.
Hungry? he asks. Campbell laughs and starts to pick at the
food: strips of bacon and sausages, eggs run the next stripe,
some scrambled and two sunny-side up, then a line of small
pancakes, then pieces of fruitwatermelon and cantaloupe and
red grapes.
Very, Im famished.
Dont feed anything to Oscar, hes already emotionally
manipulated me into more pieces of bacon than is probably good
for dogs, like when do they ever eat bacon in the wild? Thats not
for you, Oscar.
Oscar is already on the short edge of the tray, just waiting for
them to look away so he can eat some of the cheese cubes
sprinkled in with the fruit.
Campbell reaches over and pets himhe looks nearly as happy
as Campbell feels, getting breakfast in bed, all married as hell like
he is, which is an awfully happy feeling.
A strange shyness steals over Campbell as he eats. Its almost a
little like being a virgin again, that knowledge that its about to
happen, sexyoure not sure exactly when, or who will touch the
other first, or what will be said, or where in the room its going to
go down, but the vibe is there, and everyone but the dog knows,
and knows the other fellow knows, and it makes Campbell feel
nervous, almost naked and observed, when hes still totally
clothed and eating. He tries to let the food distract him, he starts
guessing.
Cinnamon in here? Campbell asks, pointing to his coffee cup.
Dash nods, smirking. And in here too? he asks, pointing at the
pancakes after he tears off a pinch to taste. And in the scrambled
eggs you put pesto, right?
Just a touch, and some chopped onions.
Right, Campbell says. Nothing fancy with the fruit I assume?
No, theres such a thing as trying too hard, you know?
Good call, yeah, but the meats?
Dash taps on the maple syrup bottle. Little bit caramelized, just a
little.
Oh, of course, you wouldnt smother them.
Dash smiles wider. Hes not eating much, and Campbell is trying
to tuck some of this delicious food away, but its definitely a feast
for two, and since Oscars uninvited, Dash has to help. Campbell
starts handing him a duplicate piece of food for every one he eats.
He eats a cube of watermelon, so does Dash. Campbell grabs a
fork for the pancakes, Dash gets handed one too. Campbell
breaks the yolk of both sunny-side eggs, and expects Dash to
help him try to eat that with forks too, but thats a tough one.
We could really use some toast for this, Campbell says, just
talking useless gibberish really, since his whole body feels thick
with the arousal in his blood.
Do you really want me to go make up some toast? Dash asks.
Campbell shakes his head. He doesnt want Dash to leave this
room at all, except: Just put this food where Oscar cant get it,
he whispers. We can eat it later.
Dash nods solemnly, either in some kind of Zen-trance of self-
control or really good at acting like it. He picks up both the tray
and the caddy and leaves the room. He comes back and says,
Its in the pantry, door locked, Oscar cant get into that.
Lock our door too, Campbell says. Toss him a toy or
something, but we need some time right now.
Thats right, Dash says, pulling a squeaky ball out of a dresser
drawer full of puppy supplies and tossing it into the living room
with a squeeze. Its not an obnoxious squeak, it sounds a lot more
like many of the chit-chatty birds that wake them up each
morninga noise, but not so bad a noise. It certainly wont bother
Campbell right now.
Dash secures the door and leans against it with his hands behind
his back. Suddenly Campbell has plenty to say, theyre finally in
the moment.
Youre goddamn wonderful, Campbell says, and it surprises
Dash, because he really only ever swears under extreme duress
and emotion. Look at you, Campbell commands. Look at who
you are, what you do, how deeply you feel, how gorgeous you are
. . . I cant believe youre mine.
Dash rushes to Campbells side of the bed, slides into a kneeling
position, and lays his head on Campbells lap, hugging him, and
burying his face. Campbell keeps talking.
Youre so honest its almost bad for you, Dash. You ask for what
you want, you reach for every chance, and youre so wide-open
when it comes to feeling, you get hurt more than most of us. Here,
look at me, Campbell says, picking up his husbands face and
feeling his day-old stubble scrub against his palms. I protect
myself. I get hurt or rejected once and its years before I try again,
Dash, years. I just couldnt take the hit again sooner than that, but
you, Campbell pauses to caress Dashs bottom lip with his
thumb, youre tough, youre a survivor, and I know you think its
weak that you drink, but Dash, its weaker to quit trying. I am so
grateful I never gave up hope, that you and me, we found each
other at the right time, because the thought of having missed out
on you . . .
Dash launches up to kiss Campbell before he starts to cryhis
voice had started to waver and tremble. The kiss is reckless, and
with all that unchecked stubble, its like a kind of grater against his
lips, his face, and he loves it.
Its a fight the likes of which Campbell has never felt before to get
out of his pajamas and nude and vulnerable against his husband.
Dash is stripped out of his clothes in a second, like they were only
Velcroed on or something, hes tearing everything out of his way:
blankets, pillows, clothing, he whips it all out of the way so that its
just him and Campbell on the platform of their mattress. Campbell
usually prefers his little cocoon of blankets and comfort, but today
. . . todays a hell of a day, and today, even though he is naked
and exposed, he doesnt feel unprotected.
Its different this time: each of them fully nude, in the daylight,
awake and aware of everything. Dash covers Campbells body
with his own, gently and full length, not crushing him with his own
density, but easing down on him, and watching his face the whole
time.
Open, Dash says, and Campbell pulls his legs apart and
relaxes. Theres lube in the bedside drawer, but Dash chooses to
use what theyve got, putting the first two fingers of his right hand
up to Campbells lips until he parts his mouth and starts to coat
them with saliva as they slide in and out. His fingers taste like
maple syrup.
His fingers go inside of Campbells hole, and he dips his head
down to kiss across Campbells collar bone, down to his nipples
where he sucks and nips, causing Campbell to writhe as Dashs
fingers crook inside of him and pull him back down.
Campbells flexible enough to hold back his knees so Dash can
fuck him with ease, face to face, kissing his face as he enters,
and then his mouth as he starts to thrustdeep, invading soul-
kisses, so deep that Campbell starts feeling short of breath and
dizzy, or is that some sort of love sickness? Probably six of one
and half a dozen of the other, but its a good kind of light-
headedness, a daze of pleasure, and Campbell can barely decide
if he wants his eyes open or closed, but eventually he becomes
so drowsy with pleasure that they flutter shut as a whimper
escapes him, and Dash starts moving with more fervor.
Do you like that?
Campbell instantly blushes to hear that question, it gives him the
thrill of feeling caught, found out, and made to admit what hes
done.
Campbell puts his lips next to Dashs ear and whispers, Yes.
You do? Dash asks gently. You like being penetrated? Hes
teasing Campbell, and its about to drive him mad with the
scandal of his words. Campbell nods against Dashs neck. Why
do you like that?
Campbell bites his lips before answering, lets go of his legs so he
can lock all four of his limbs around Dash to pull him closer; hes
about to come just from Dash hitting the sweet spot over and over
and driving him wild with his talk. Just as Campbells about to
crest, he tells the truth: Because I own you.
Dash groans as Campbell withers under a powerful orgasm and
starts moving frenetically. Dash comes within five thrusts and then
seizes as it flows through him, stunned by it, until he collapses
onto Campbell and starts kissing him again.
Oh my god, he murmurs between kisses. Oh my god,
Campbell.
This they dont have to talk about, but Campbell knows why that
floored Dash so hard. It seems like getting fucked is something
that happens to onebeing taken, drilled, used, penetrated,
being the receiver, but when it comes to making love? Campbell
lets Dash inside, takes him in, and holds him there not with force,
like the way Dash can pin him down with his strength, but with
thrall, and he can get off on that power too; its intoxicating.
They make out like teenagers until Oscar starts whining and
scratching at the door, and they find the strength to pull away
from each other, and get up to let the pup in, finish breakfast, and
start the first day of their new life.
17. The Melting Pot
Dash is almost grateful that he starts going stir crazy after more
than a week inside, because if he didnt, his wedding would have
been his last known sighting in this life. Campbells a world unto
himself, and Dash loves that world, but he only really appreciates
it when he has to go away and then return. Want to really
appreciate freedom? Be caged for a while. Want to really love
your food? Go on a fast first. Want that marriage to feel as much
of a reward as it did on the night he said yes? Go deal with other
people at work all day, and then try to come home without
gratitude. The difference between an oasis retreat and being
hopelessly marooned is the ability to come and go.
And so after two weeks of slovenly bliss, he drops Campbell off at
the store, holds him by the hair long enough to kiss him until his
lips are visibly pink from it, and lets him go. He wants to tell him to
be safe, but he knows thats weird, and instead of saying it he just
wonders how long hell have to fight the urge; when will he get so
comfortable that he doesnt feel the need to guard and protect
Campbell at all times? That day might never come.
Dash arrives to work feeling a little unsteadyhaving grown so
used to having Campbell by his side, he feels slightly
incompletebut the staff all clap him on the back or shake his
hand, and someone cut up a piece of paper into a handful of
confetti that they toss at Dash and then immediately sweep up,
and Reuben gives him a very meaningful nod and jerks his head
towards the bar, where two people are sitting and waiting for him.
Colby and Earl, the photographer.
I told them youd be back at work today, so they came by before
were too busy to pitch something to youwait until you hear this,
its a weird one.
Colby is sitting with one arm over Earls shoulders and the other
elbow resting on the bar. Earl is sitting as if he isnt being touched
at all, perfectly normal posture, hands around a bottle of beer,
except that hes got a smirk on his face like hes got a secret no
one else knows, and he and Colby arent even talking; theyre just
casual, quiet, waiting. So those two must be pretty happy to know
each other.
Dash walks up with a goofy look on his own face, he knows it, and
Colby leans over the bar when he sees Dash and kisses him on
both cheeks, surprising him.
You and Campbell, he says by way of explanation. Oh, man.
Earl slides an envelope out of his messenger bag like it might be
thick with bribe money and slides it over to Dash.
One set of physical prints of your pictures, Campbell specified
the sizes, plus a CD and a flash drive of the pictures too. I trust
you can get these safely to him.
Ill do my best, Dash says.
The lighting looks really good in those, Earl tells him.
Colby laughs and puts his arm back over Earls shoulders. The
grooms look pretty good in them too.
Great, Dash says, wondering what Campbells planning to do
with the prints, but trying to stay focused. Reuben said you guys
had something weird to talk to me about. He holds up his packet
of pictures. This isnt weird.
No, well, the thing is, its about my article, the one I wrote about
you.
I remember it.
Well, theres been some more interest in it, and by it I mostly
mean you, more interest in you.
Oh, Dash says. That does sound weird.
You know the show Meet, Greet, and Eat?
Um, what the hell is that? Dash asks.
Colby smiles. Television, its a show on it. Every episode is about
a chef, and about the host coming to film you cooking a meal that
he eats and talks about, plus an interview with you while he eats.
You want me to eat with some guy on TV?
You dont eat, he eats, you answer questions in a pristine chefs
jacket, so like one thats never been cooked in, Earl says.
Yeah, Colby confirms. Look, its probably sounding like a pain
in the ass already
And not the good kind, not at all, Dash says, which makes Earl
snort.
but! Itd be really good for all of us. I mean for me, for my story
to get picked up like that, for the restaurant, it gives places a real
boost, and wed both get paid for this, its just . . . youre the one
whod have to be on TV.
Why? Dash whines. Plenty of people want that kind of attention,
why is it forced on Dash when hed rather spend his life in the
back of the house, or home drinking alone, or hiding in
Campbells hairhe doesnt like being observed, being
scrutinized! Its almost always more trouble than it is flattering.
Honestly, Earl says, Its got a lot to do with the fact that youre
handsome. Im speaking as a photographer, this is my business
youre good-looking, the camera loves you, and you dont sound
stupid when you talk. You like what you like and know what you
know, and when someone asks you the right questions, like this
one did, Earl pauses to stick a thumb out at Colby, you steal the
show. You got into a natural sort of ramble, and itll play well on
TV. Whoever has to cut the episode together will appreciate the
hell out of you.
He knows about the moving pictures as well, Colby says, lightly
pinching Earls cheek with the hand draped over his shoulder.
Again Earl doesnt acknowledge this, he just enjoys it in silence.
Obviously the choice is yours, Earl says, but it would make
Colby happy and it would make Reuben happy and wouldnt your
husband love to see his husband on TV?
Ugh, probably, Dash says. Ugh because if he thinks it will make
Campbell happy, he knows hes going to agree to this mess.
And so it plays out that way: the camera crew of Meet, Greet, and
Eat show up and tell him just how much artifice goes into
television; theyll film before the restaurant opens but light the
place as if its an evening meal; the meal will be prepared twice
one for the host, a Mr. Rocky Cadbury (which Dash hopes is his
TV persona name and not what his mother calls him) to actually
eat and review, another to be shellacked and rearranged and
staged to look good on camera. Dash too will be put through
make-up and made to stand drinking a fake alcoholic beverage, in
case the interview runs long so he doesnt actually get plastered.
He can do that afterwards apparently. He tries not to think about
the interview at all in the days leading up to iteveryone says he
speaks best when hes unprepared, and at least its easy to
prepare for being unprepared.
That food photography bit is weird, Dash says. Apparently all
the pictures of food on packaging and in ads and on menus is a
model of the food, half made out of wax and resin so they can
take a bunch of pictures of it without it melting or congealing or
whatever reminds you that you should be eating it more than
looking at it.
Visuals are a big deal to people, we eat with our eyes first,
psychologically, Campbell says, the night before Dashs big
break into show business, as he sits on the floor in front of the
couch, between Dashs knees to get his hair brushed before bed.
Like you decide whether a meals going to be filling just by
looking at the size of it on your plate. If you want people to be full
and aware that theyre full, you put big food on a small plate,
thats been studied.
Maybe I should blindfold my customers when they come in so
they cant mess up my cooking with their feeble psyches, Dash
says.
Or only serve the blind, Campbell rejoins. They end the night
pretty amused by the whole deal, but the next morning Dash has
to get up early to go through with it.
He prepared everything he could for the meal the night before,
now all he has to do is fire up the stovetop for an appetizer of
andouille sausages, gumbo du jour, pecan encrusted gulf fish
(pecans for luckDash has good luck associated for that nut),
there will be a plate of cheese provided by Campbell to serve as a
palate cleanser, and then for desert, Ponchatoula strawberry
shortcakethey said try to New-Orleans-up the meal, really lay it
on as thick as he could stand for a national audience to feel like
theyre in the know, so screw it, thats the stuff Dash chose.
Creole, gulf coast, Ponchatoula strawberries, youre welcome.
The host arrives as Dash is being powdered and painted for the
camera lights and joins him at that table with a, Hey, Chef. Hey
yourself, Actor.
So the way this will work, I dont know if theyve explained it to
you, its four questions, one for each plate, and then we clink a
glass and I say, Nice to meet you, thats the tag with the show,
and then your job is done. Theyll wrap up filming what they need
the location for, and were out of your way after that. The show
wont air for a few months, someone will tell you when its
scheduled to be on TV.
Earl is nearby, unaffiliated with the show, but there taking behind-
the-scenes pictures for promoting the restaurant and promoting
Colbythose two are both a couple and a production team,
apparently. He says, Colbys going to write something before the
episode airs, hopefully get more people to tune in.
Good, good, says Rocky Cadbury, even though Earls not
talking to him.
Dash is handed a list of the questions hell be asked and the
windows are blocked so the daylight cant get in and ruin the
evening staging theyre going for. Dash must squint to read:
1. What brought you to cooking and a career as a chef? (Ugh,
career, really? Try job.)
2. What is the best meal youve ever had? (Dash will have to
get inventive with that one, hes not sentimental about
eatingthe best meal hes had is always the last good one
he ate.)
3. Whats one food you really hate? (Black liquorish, probably,
though is it even really fair to call it food?)
4. If your personality were a food or a dish, what would you be?
(Whoever wrote these questions is certainly a cheeseball.)
Dash really only has to do his part for about half an hour. Rocky
takes a bite, asks a question, Dash answers, and cut. They clear
the plate and set it aside for his actual review, but the filming
should look as real as being fake can make it. Another bite,
another question, until they clink glasses and Rocky takes off with
a to-go bag of his food. That wasnt as bad or as impressive as
Dash would have predicted. His family is quick to tell him it was
amazing though.
Earl gives him an OK hand signal before Dash retreats to the
kitchen. Reuben is there to thank him, and says thisll be great for
business. Campbell kisses him, getting some of the thick TV
makeup on his lips (Dash wipes that off with his thumb), and
thankfully its his day off, so he doesnt have to do this and get
right back to work, though Reuben does. Saffron has stopped in
for the filming as well, though shes got to get back to the store
ASAP, this is mostly her lunch break (she ate up some of the
extra food that didnt look good enough for TV presentation).
Campbell started taking his weekend on the same days Dash
doesSaffron approved of this, said shed been nagging him to
take days off forever, everyone else does it. Saffron also tells
Dash he did well, and then says she wants a quick word with him
before she jets off again.
Reuben comes too, and Saffron waves at Campbell to join them.
Dash is wiping makeup off his face with a wet paper towel when
he hears the news.
Reuben and I are moving in together, Saffron says. Hes
moving in with me, that is, but we are not getting married. I cannot
emphasize this enough: not marriage, just living in some nice sin,
okay?
Why not married? Campbell asks his sister, while Dash nods
and smiles at Reuben and says, Nice. Who doesnt like a little
sin? And how much sin can they even get up to with all those kids
around? Take all the fun you can get, thats what Dash would
advocate. Reuben knows what he means just by his nod of
approval.
Because of the kids mostly. I mean, Reubens great with them,
but hes not their father, his name isnt ours, and Im not against
getting marriedIm certainly not against getting pretty and
having a partybut for now were not bringing any signed
documents into this, were just going to start living, and do
whatever feels right going forward.
Your life is really coming together, Dash tells Reuben as
Campbell and Saffron fall to whispering amongst themselves.
Yeah, Reuben agrees. Its a lot of promising stuff all at once. I
havent felt this optimistic since we first started the restaurant. I
mean, we knew it would take a few years for it all to feel stable,
for the work to really start paying off, and I guess were finally
there. The business is so good my whole life is getting better. Its
either the reward for all the hard work or like maturitys finally hit,
and were growing up, you know? But Im glad the good stuff
came for both of us at the same time. Weve got really separate
lives now, but theyre still connected.
Well yeah, we hooked up with a pair of siblings, Dash says.
Theyre connected for life, arent they?
Yeah, but how unlikely was that? Reuben says. And not all
siblings are as lovey dovey as those two, theyre lucky in that, and
were lucky we found them at the right time, you know? I just
really love that were still in all this together, Dash, its pretty
comforting.
Oh, Reuben, you softie!
Come on, man, its nasty to have to feel jealous of your best
friend, its much better to win together.
Thats true. Seeing Reuben happy when hes been down has
always been a source of unwanted bitterness for Dash, and it
sounds like Reubens felt the same way, maybe especially since
he met Campbell and has been so happy he hardly feels familiar
to himself anymore.
Congrats to you and Saffron, Dash says. Were practically
brothers-in-law now, or not in law because who needs the G-
mens permission to be married, but
Weve always been brothers, Reuben says, and then they both
clam up and just nod until Saffron and Campbell approach. Those
two have the beginnings of tears in their eyes. Dash and Reuben
stopped talking just in time to avoid the waterworks, but only just.
18. The Watched Pot
It takes weeks, nearly four months, for the TV segment to air, and
in waiting for it two of Saffrons kids have birthdays. And
Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas come and go. Now its
New Years Eve and theyve got an advance copy of the episode
which will air just after the new year begins, on January 3rd. And
Campbells happy about thatso happy!hes been happy for all
these weeks since the wedding. His sister is happy, everyones
job is doing well and headed for better because of the TV spot,
Christmas was almost chilly this year, thats always magical in
New Orleans, and Saffrons kids are growing up with Reuben in
their lives as a father figure, its all perfect . . . except for the fact
that there are kids everywhere, but none of them are Campbells.
Hes been patient, and content, and very sexually satisfied (the
honeymoon has yet to wane, it hasnt even been a year since he
and Dash met, let alone married), but hes finally got to talk about
thiscomplain about it, worry about it, get some advice and
reassurance. Saffron and Reuben are going to bring the kids over
to watch the TV episodeexclusive sneak peek!and
Campbells going to pull her aside and ask her: HOW? How were
you so fertile? How long did it take? How can I get what you
have? Tell me your secrets.
Saffron and Company arrive holding various dishes and Reuben
with a six-pack of beer. Campbell pets every kid on the head,
kisses every adult on the cheek, and manages to control himself
until after everyone enjoys the episode and congratulates Dash.
Its weird seeing him on TV while sitting in his arms on the couch,
getting his hair played with. Even the kids have the same opinions
about it when they can tear themselves away from petting Oscar.
Mommy, it looks like Uncle Dash, but not really! Thats
Clementines input. Shes got a point about that: the Dash on TV
looks like a very close-looking reenactor, but not exactly like the
real Dash. He sounds like Dash though, to everyone but him.
Thats what my voice sounds like? Dash asks quietly, mostly to
Campbell. I sound like my father, weird.
Did they like change your hair or something? Frankie asks. You
look weird too.
Probably makeup, you were in makeup, werent you, Dash?
asks Rosemary. They need special makeup so youre not shiny
under the lights.
How would you know, Hollywood? Youve never been on TV or
anything, Frankie says.
Um, when youre around long enough you learn things,
Rosemary says. Im the oldest, Im going to know a lot that you
dont know, Im a curious person.
Yes, very curious, very odd, Saffron says, and Rosemary rolls
her eyes and goes to sit in the kitchen with a book shes reading,
bored of them all now.
Rosemarys not in the best mood today, and she and Frankie
arent exactly the picture of sibling unity, but still Campbell is
jealouswhere are his moody children? What will they fight
about? Who will be the reader, the skeptic, the dog-whisperer
who will these children of his be? He wants to meet them already,
at least the first one. Campbells done everything right: fallen in
love, made a loving home, waited long enough, and now its the
right time, so where are they?
He waits for the episode to end, he waits out the discussion of
opinionswhich was everyones favorite part? What kind of food
are each of us? That one took a long time, with everyone
identifying everyone else; all agree that Campbell is a
marshmallow since he wont participate, wont pick a food for
himselfhes too distracted.
He meant to corner Saffron at the party, but she corners him first
after he steps out of the bathroom.
You seem really out of it, Saffron says. Are you okay? Next
she drops her voice to a whisper. How do you feel, do you feel
off? Do you think you might be pregnant? You should tell me if
you do, maybe Ill recognize the symptoms.
Im definitely not pregnant, he whispers back. Thats whats
wrong. He gestures for her to follow him out of the crowded
house into the backyard. She can admire the garden Campbell
tends quite carefully because he has nothing else better to do.
Saffron runs her hands over the leaves and petals as they wander
through the yard and she waits for Campbell to say what he wants
to say; she knows its coming.
Look, how did it work for you? Campbell asks. Were there any
methods you used or like some kind of schedule you were on?
Oh, honey, I never planned or waited for any of mine, I just got
laid and enjoyed my life and when I got sick from just the smell of
foods I usually loved, thats when I knew, every time. Oh my god,
how much I love clam chowder most of the time, and when I was
pregnant it was like someone vomited into a feed bag and
strapped it to my face, I couldnt stand thinking about it. Like a
bowl of creamy mucus blobs and tumors, you know?
I got it, thanks. Im grossed out but I dont feel very sick, no more
than any normal person would be after hearing all that.
I dont have any advice I can swear by, kiddo, unless the trick is
to quit waiting for it. Just try to forget that youre waiting, think of
how much youll miss this time when youve got kids jabbering
and crawling all over you for twenty straight goddamn years at
least if you have a fewjust love this time for what it is, relax, and
the rest should come at its own pace.
Easy for you to say, but what if it doesnt come? Im not that
young, right? What if I need a doctors help? And the longer I wait
the fewer kids I can have because of how long itll take to, like,
diagnose, and treat?
See, thats what Im talking about, Saffron says. Youre
stressing yourself out, and stress really does have an influence
over this stuff, Campbell. You literally and spiritually need to
unclench, okay? Youd think with all the sex you must be having
youd be more relaxed.
Oh, dont start talking like that, please, this isnt funny, Campbell
says.
Im not really joking, but you could use a laugh, seriously. Either
laugh or, I dont know, stand on your head after sex, use gravity to
get that baby batter really deep in there, she said, snatching
towards Campbells tummy, trying to tickle him, really let it sink
in.
Oh my god, Saffron, dont, ew, he protests, but she gets what
she wanted anyway, since Campbell does start to laugh a little.
They end their talk with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and
Saffron starts asking Campbell questions about how he grows his
gardenfertilizer? Scraps for composting, whats the secret?
Maybe its just the way his nurturing gene manifestsSaffron
gets all the kids, Campbell gets all the tomato plants, everyone
feels a little cheated out of something, even though they both
have plenty to love and grow and appreciate.
When the party ends, Dash is in a fine mood. His episode didnt
embarrass him as much as he thought it would, he wasnt a fool
but he didnt come off as a know-it-all either, and his friends all
said he was passablethats just the kind of fame he can stand,
the brief, passing kind. Hopefully the fans that are drawn to the
restaurant by the show are hardcore foodies and not chef
groupies, he could handle one but not the other, not without
feeling put-upon.
Campbell decides to see how Dash will handle a very odd
requestif hes in a good enough mood, he might just go with it.
Campbell switches off the TV and gives Dash The Look. Its The
Look that says maybe we should pull the blinds unless we want to
give the neighbors a peep show, that kind of look. Dash comes to
him quickly when he catches that look, as fast as if hed heard
someone call his name.
Dash kisses him a few times before saying, Turned on by the fact
that youre married to a celebrity now?
Maybe, Campbell says, though thats almost a lie; he watched
Dashs episode but he didnt really see it, his mind is on other
things, one other thing. Hey, are you willing to try something
different tonight?
What do you have in mind? Dash says.
Well, what if I . . . Campbell walks over to their free-standing
armchair and sits on the back of it, and then flips over so that his
shoulders are on the seat, and his ass is in the air. How about in
this position? Campbell says, though its hard to talk with his
neck at this angle, and his chin nearly pinned to his chest.
Are you sure you can breathe? Dash asks him.
Totally, Campbell says breathlessly.
Dash walks over to stand between Campbells knees and looks
down at him. Whered this come from? Do you think the blood
rush to your head would do something, or . . . ?
Im just curious, Campbell chokes out, and then squirms without
dignity out of the chair and tries to retreat, but Dash wont let him
keep any secrets like this. Campbells face is blushing, and not
just from the blood rush of being upside down but from
embarrassment at his own idiocy. Why did he think that idea
would come across as something fun and sexy? He feels like an
idiot.
Campbell, whats
Sorry, Campbell says quickly, before Dash can ask him whats
wrong. Hed tried to go hide in their bedroom, but now hes just
standing in the doorway, his back to Dash, his hands braced
against both sides of the door frame. Im just . . . Im just
wondering why we havent gotten pregnant yet, and I wanted to
try something dumb to see if that would make the difference, Im
sorry.
Oh, Campbell, Dash says, coming up behind him and encircling
him in a hug. Campbell resists for one more moment of idiocy,
and then drops his hands from the door frame and covers Dashs
arms with his own. They rock back and forth like this for a
moment, and then Dash goes on. You know Id fuck you every
which way from Sunday if it turned you on, he whispers. I mean
get as weird as you want to, get creative, come up with a safe
word, Ill get into it, I know I would, but I dont want it to be some
sort of chore, you know?
I know, Campbell says. I know, and Im sorry. He turns around
to bury his face in Dashs chest, to hug him as tight as he can,
and Dash holds him back.
No need to be sorry, babe, Dash says. I love you.
Campbell picks up his head and starts kissing Dash, and he
wonders for a moment if they might end up having sex anyway,
and then maybe afterwards Campbell could go sit upside down if
he really wanted to, but somehow the mood just isnt quite right at
the moment, and rather than meet up with their first instance of
awkward sex (and who would want to chance breaking their
streak of wins?), they decide to clean up after their party, and sit
down to a small dinner of leftovers.
Dash slices up a cooked chicken breast that theyll share from the
same plate, along with a big dollop of blended cauliflower
(seasoned like and meant to mimic mashed potatoes, but a
healthier substitute), some green beans theyll each be able to
pick up with the stab of a fork (peas wouldnt really work for that),
and a bottle of beer for Dash, a hard cider for Campbell. Dash
sticks the plate in the microwave and sits down with Campbell at
the kitchen table to wait. With one hand hes drinking his beer,
with the other hes holding Campbells hand stroking his thumb
across Campbells knuckles, and hes smiling even when hes
taking a drink, but he doesnt say anything and neither does
Campbell, until their food dings and Dash gets up to bring it to the
table. And the aroma of hot food comes with him.
It hits Campbell badly, but only for a moment because he knows
what it means, and his mind starts racing with magic: Saffron just
said this would happen and then it did, does she speak prophesy?
Nevermind that it takes more than an instant for a fertilized egg to
implant and start changing the body; Campbell was just upside
down, did that really do it? Or what about stress; did this blessing
only occur now because he was honest, because he told Dash
what he was worried about and thus unburdened his soul? He
doesnt care how, or with what fateful coincidence its happened,
but Campbell knows that the smell of this perfectly tasty plate of
food, food that hes eaten before during this very week and
enjoyed, is making him feel sick. He doesnt want to eat anything
but crushed ice or drink anything but seltzer water until this baby
is born because the very idea of everything else is too rich and
disgusting to him suddenly, and because thats what this isa
baby to be born.
Campbell starts smiling and laughing, which is why it feels weird
that tears start slipping down his face, and into the corners of his
mouth where he can taste themtheyre not too badmaybe salt
water will be acceptable to Campbell during the coming months,
surely thats okay to drink and not what kills people delirious with
thirst on rafts who start drinking sea water only to dehydrate
faster, right? Apparently right now Campbells experiencing the
same kind of madness. Dash doesnt know what to do at all, hes
frozen.
Campbell waves the plate of food away, then beckons Dash back
to him. Dash sinks to his knees on the kitchen floor and waits to
be told whats going on. Campbell wipes the tears from his eyes
and sets his hands around Dashs face and tells him,
I think Im pregnant. He knows hes pregnant.
19. Bun in the Oven
Dash is happy to know theres going to be a baby but . . . he is not

that into how long it takes to meet the baby. Nine months, thats
practically a year, an eternity. Nine months? Thats about as long
as hes known Campbell from that first day he walked into the
Canteenthats a short period to enjoy but an extremely long
time to wait. So Dash tries not to think about it too much, not the
baby at least. Campbell focuses on the babyhe monitors for
movement, squints at Dashs face and his own in a mirror trying to
imagine combined features, hes got looooong lists of names for
boys and girls, and sub-lists for middle names, and hes online all
the time shopping for deals and safety features on cribs, car
seats, toys, and any kind of apparatus in use for a babyhigh
chairs, bouncy chairs, play pens . . . hes measured their house
so many times hes got its dimensions memorized in metric and
standard. Campbells got that stuff covered, and hes got Saffron
to talk to about it, since she knows better than all of them what
works practically in on-the-ground child rearing. Dash is
unnecessary in these preparations and he finds them frustrating
months away! Months. Dash can barely handle the wait.
So what can he do to help? Dash just concentrates on Campbells
needs and doesnt think too much further than that.
Pregnancy is a temporary condition, a happy one often, but also
an uncomfortable and dramatic one. Campbell finds most foods
disgusting half the time, and this from the guy who met Dash by
insisting he eat a plate of delicacies! If Campbell was presented
with that plate of raw, slippery slices of fish right now hed
probably pass out. He and Saffron have switched jobs at the store
as best they can because even with gloves on Campbell cant
stand touching raw meat. Its a band-aid until the baby comes,
because Saffron is better with check-out chatting, and Campbell
is better at slicing, but itll hold for as long as they need, and
brother and sister have ditched cell phones for just straight-up
constant communication walkie-talkies with ear buds, they give
each other advice, and meet in the freezer aisle when they must,
and so theyve got work life handled too . . . but Campbell still has
to eat.
Thats what Dash occupies his time with, coming up with weird
concoctions that wont disgust his guy. This isnt just a balm for
his restlessness, and something to distract him from the long wait
it takes to even see a bump start to grow, its also something that
might serve him well for years. They want lots of babies, right?
And this might happen every time, and Dash wants to know
exactly how to deal with it. He can run a kitchen and feed a very
picky clientele; he can feed this man and this baby too, hes sure
of it.
His preference for ice, especially knowing that hes going to be
hugely pregnant during the summer months in New Orleans, is
the key to Dashs start. He gets them a snow cone machine but
cant just dump generic syrup on it, because Campbell says that
its got the consistency of drinking blood and the sugar is so
strong it burns his throat, so real fruit juice snow cones it is! After
that Dash starts questioning every gag Campbell has.
Is it the flavor, consistency, texture, all three, everything about
it? When Campbell stops heaving and wipes the sweat from his
brow, he answers, until they find a few things he can eat when
hes too hungry to ignore it anymore: pressed tofu to take the
place of any and all breadsif meat cant be eaten, protein still
has to happen, but springy, rubbery tofu? Not going to happen.
Dash puts slices of tofu between cheesecloth and takes a rolling
pin to it, and that works for certain spreads. Pulp doesnt seem to
bother Campbell at all, so slices of tomatoes are okay as long as
theyre not soggy, and just about any fruit in a blender works as
an acceptable spread for Campbell, basically baby food, thats
pretty fitting as far as Dash can see. Campbell hates nuts (theyre
favorite, the pecan that brought them together, is not welcome in
his mouth right now), but seeds he loves. Fruits that have seeds
and even just a bowl of them with some olive oil he likes to eat as
if its a bowl of oatmeal: hemp seeds, chia seeds, sesame seeds.
Hell snack on pumpkin and sunflower seeds out of a baggy in his
pocket at work. Its not the most well-rounded diet, but hes got to
eat, because the baby certainly will take what it needs to grow out
of Campbells stores, his bones. Dashs biggest worry is calcium,
because milk products all seem sour to Campbell.
Pulpy orange juice with calcium added helps, but the babys going
to have a whole skeleton, so Dash wants Campbell getting more
than that. He starts sprinkling calcium powder over the tofu slices
before adding that days topper. He brings Campbell a tray of
selections for every meal and takes note of what he eats a la
carte, making sure hes not veering too far from one nutrient
source or another. Its a lot like tending a sickbed, except the
opposite: a bed of life. It makes it a more enjoyable sort of task.
After the first few months, either Campbells nausea starts to ease
up, or he just gets used to it, and eats on schedule when he must
without as much cringing as he began with. When the bump starts
to show, and the baby gets big enough for Dash to feel, at least
from the outside, he finds a whole new level of excitement hes
almost sorry for, since Campbell cant really share in it the same
way. Dash starts cupping the bump whenever he can, certainly
whenever they sleep he wraps his arm around Campbell so that
he can always feel the bump too. Dash starts talking to the bump
the bigger it gets, the realer this baby becomes to himCampbell
cant forget whats happening and the seriousness of it for even a
minute, but Dash can forget until he sees that bump and knows
that its growing into someone Dash will talk to someday. He
starts talking every time that occurs to him.
Hiya, Bump, Dash will say to Campbells belly, its about the
same way he talks to Oscar, who he knows can hear but doesnt
talk back in the same language. Campbell shook his head at first,
and insisted that Dash not get used to calling their child Bump,
but as the months go by, the bump starts to twitch and kick
whenever Dash addresses it, and that Campbell approves of very
much.
It knows you, Dash, he says with wonder when he finally
realizes the pattern. Thats good, the baby will recognize
something about you right away at this point. I worried it would be
too sad if the baby didnt trust you at first, but I think it will.
Thats very good, Dash agrees, rubbing the swell under
Campbells shirt back and forth with the palm of his hand, which
reminds him of the other divide between him and Campbell, the
fact that this change in his lovers body is kind of turning Dash on.
According to the internet, some people get horny while pregnant,
and some people say that they can orgasm while giving birth, but
thats not exactly how its going for Campbell; Campbell mostly
moves gingerly around some mysterious ache and faints around
food, its not that sexy, and Dash has to handle himself alone . . .
for the first two trimesters.
Just like the food aversion seems to lighten up after a while,
Campbell becomes a little more sturdy on his feet just when the
babys extra weight needs to be carried (so thats lucky), and
around that time is when Dash suddenly starts being awoken
each morning with his hand moved from the bump to Campbells
cock, with Campbells hand pressing it down.
The first morning this happens, Dash is delicate, tender. He
slowly slips his hand into Campbells underwear, in case this is
some wet dream and he doesnt realize whats going on, doesnt
really want it, but Campbells awake enough to sigh pleasurably
when Dash grasps and starts to jerk him. Its sweet, and Dash is
so hard-up for sexual contact that he just about comes in his
shorts merely from the grinding Campbell does during this early
morning reach-around. Dash kisses his neck from behind, and
nibbles gently on his ear, and when Campbell comes he falls back
to sleep almost immediately, and Dash takes the fluid he caught
in his hand and goes to the bathroom to pull himself together. On
a normal day Dash would have washed his hands and just walked
with a bit of a swagger for the rest of the day. After all these
weeks without real sex he doesnt wash his hands until after he
uses Campbells release as lubricant to jerk himself off into the
toilet. Definitely not the most romantic thing hes ever done, but
Dash doesnt regret it all; he doesnt remember it over-fondly, but
it was the closest hed gotten to fucking Campbell in such a long
time that the orgasm was strong enough to make his knees weak.
He walked the rest of that day with jelly legs instead of swagger,
but it got the job done.
This morning arousal of Campbell happens again the next day,
and then again, and on the fourth day in a row, instead of letting
Dash tuck his hand beneath the bump and take care of business
without any other communication, Campbell reaches his own
hand behind him to touch Dashs face and says, Hey, kiss me.
Dash lifts up immediately and kisses Campbell with love and
respect, but thats not the kind of kiss Campbell is after, because
Campbell slips his tongue into Dashs mouth and ends the kiss by
biting his bottom lip.
Well, hello, Dash whispers. His voice is thick with passion, he
can hear it himself, which is why Campbells next question is all
the more mind-boggling.
Why dont you fuck me anymore, is it because Im too big?
Youre just not into it?
Dash shakes his head and tries to get his thoughts in order
through the cobwebs of his lust, looking down at Campbells
spritely little face in that cascade of hair.
Are you kidding? Im actually . . . it might sound weird, but it
actually turns me on that youre so . . . pregnant. It turns me on to
know theres something deep inside you, Dash pauses to rub
Campbells belly from top around to the bottom, moving around
in there. Now he cups his hand over Campbells cock and balls,
then moves further to nestle at the crack of his ass.
Then do something about it, wont you? I miss you.
Now Dash kisses Campbell with fervor. He wants to ask if
Campbells sure its safe for the baby, and to be reassured that
hes not got some pregnancy fetish just because no version of
Campbell isnt appealing to him, but he doesnt have the patience
for words right now. Campbell wouldnt ask for anything that
would endanger the baby, first of all, and so what if hes a pervert
for a pregnant belly? Hell have plenty of time to deal with that in
this family, since Campbell wants as many kids as they can
handle. Dashs only question at this exact moment is, How?
Which position? He doesnt want to bend or crush anythinghe
cant be in charge of moving Campbell around this time, Campbell
has to be the boss.
Lay on your back, Campbell says, and when Dash obeys,
Campbell takes down his underpants and Dashs, and then crawls
over his waist. Theyve never done it like this before, with
Campbell on top; in fact, Dash has only let someone ride him like
this once, and that guy was so aggressive with it that Dash has
taken to pinning people down, always being on top and in control,
but thats not how he and Campbell workCampbells always got
more control than can be seen, today hes only showing it.
Dash puts his hands behind his head as Campbell gets into
position, settling his knees on either side of Dash, and setting his
swollen belly down on Dashs, and then reaching behind him to
pick up Dashs cock and set it at his entrance. Dashs pre-cum is
enough lubrication today, he feels like a leaky faucet, and
Campbell tells him a couple more instructions. First: Put your
hands on my hips, and then second: Be careful, but not too
careful.
Thats a total riddle; Dash just goes in and hopes for the best.
He takes a firm grasp on Campbells hips and does his best to
gently pull him apart. Its slow getting all the way in, but Dash
needs it to go slow, because hes already right on the edge of
orgasm. Deep inside of Campbell he pauses, closes his eyes and
bites his lip much harder than Campbell did to distract himself,
and then starts to buck up inside.
He cant even look at the bump right now, because the feeling of it
brushing against his stomach with every thrust is already driving
him wild with depraved desire. Campbell is silent while Dash
thrusts and cusses and groans, but his eyes are rolling back in his
headhes been a long time without this too.
Its over in under a minute, with Dashs come leaking right back
down from where he releases it and pooling in his groin, and
Campbell doing his best to jerk a cock he cant even see these
days. Dash sits up quickly, wraps his arms full-length around
Campbell so he can ease him back onto the bed, on his side
facing Dash, and then Dash slides down the mattress and starts
to suck him, one hand grabbing his ass, and the other arm
wrapped around the bump pressed to one side of his face, where
he can nuzzle it as Campbell releases into his mouth. He stays
there milking Campbells cock until he feels a tap on his shoulder
and stops. He wipes his lips and joins Campbell breathless and
spent on their pillows.
Think you could kiss me right now? Dash asks. Or would the
taste of this of all things be way too much to deal with.
Im good right now, Campbell says between pants. I wonder if
its the endorphins or whatever, I feel like I could eat anything
right now, but, you know, screw it, I dont care. Campbell grabs
Dashs face and brings it down to kiss him, and Campbell kisses
the hell out of him, and its really good to have him back like this.
20. Bakers Dozen
Campbell knows the babys coming long before anyone else does
on the day it happens. He knows labor takes a while, and so
when the first contractions hit, he doesnt press the panic button
right away, he just breathes deeply and thinks very carefully of
what this day will bring.
Honestly, he can see his whole future before him like a prophesy.
He wants a dozen babies of any sort, more in fact, a Bakers
dozen, thirteen! They dont all have to be children, Oscars his
baby too; this one thats coming is already the second baby in a
sense. Theres a contraction but Campbell clenches his jaw
through it, and concentrates on what its all for.
He knows there will be days coming home from work with Aunt
Saffronmaybe the kids will learn to call her Ronnie, she always
gets her boyfriends to do it, but to most people she stays either
Saffron or mommyand even on days when shes got to rush
home, the girls especially will run out to show her something they
made or tell her about something that happened, just to get their
cool aunts attention. Campbell will be wiping the same lip gloss
smudge off of his kids as he does off of hers, and thatll be
something hell treasure doing every time he gets the chance,
especially when theyre young and have no idea its there, when
their cheeks are still springy with youth.
Campbell doesnt know if he wants more boys or girls, or an even
mix of both. He can see the appeal of all threeoverrun by a
sorority of girls, skirts and gossip everywhere, with Saffron as
their queen bee biggest sister; but then a platoon of boys would
be a joy to watch Dash command, and yeah the house would
probably be a lot more disgusting with nothing but boys, but the
dogs would all get enough exercise, what boy doesnt love his
dog? They could have one pup for every son, and that would be a
hell of a full house too. If Campbell wishes for a scenario though,
he thinks he wants the best of both worlds: sons who are
protective of their sisters, sisters who give sage advice to their
brothers. Sage . . .
Campbell gasps on the next contraction, but only because hes
too distracted to grit against it. Dash comes running right away,
grabs the diaper/hospital bag that he insists on calling a go bag
like theyre in some spy thriller, and has Campbell in the car, back
seat next to the childs seat because according to him if the infant
outside of Campbell cant sit up front, then why should the infant
in his belly be up there? In a crash that pregnant stomach would
hit the dashboard first, so nope on riding up front for him. Dash is
too excited knowing whats about to go down that he cant actually
hear anything Campbell says, he cant register it. Campbell tests
him by saying stuff like, Ive packed Oscar in the go bag, thats
cool with hospitals, right? and Dash agrees without thinking. Hell
have to tell him the real news later, the most important news: boy
or girl, he knows the name of their baby, and it came to him in a
trance right on the kids birthday. How fitting that he couldnt know
the name until the day he would need to use it, the day he and his
baby will meet face to face for the first time? Sage.
Saffron shows up to the hospital first somehow, she rushed there
when she got Campbells text that it was happening, and shes
the one who goes with Campbell into the delivery room, not
because Dash is uninvited, though there is a one-civilian-in-the-
room-only rule at this place, just because Campbells known
Saffron his whole lifeshe was there when he himself was born,
and shes been a mother four times before, shes been through
this, and without their mother around, shes the closest thing to
having her, and so its not really a question. Dash kisses
Campbell goodbye and stays in the waiting space of the birth
ward; Saffron kisses him hello, a big kiss on the mouth, that
tastes like lip gloss and salt because shes already been weeping
some joy-tears, though shes sturdy when Campbell needs to lean
on her.
Saffron whispers in his ear the whole time, cracking a joke
whenever Campbell can breathe freely enough to afford a laugh,
and clamps his hand with an iron grip when he has to push. Shes
the first one to meet the baby when it arrives, and so shes the
first to know the babys name.
My daughter, Campbell tells his sister when the baby is placed
in his arms. Saffron, meet Sage.
Saffron is crying again now, and babbling. Oh my god, look at
her! And that name is the cutest I cant believe I never thought of
it! Oh my god shes my favorite niece, favorite, hands down! Oh
my god please name all of your kids after herbs and spices, oh
my god.
Campbell is tired, but smiling, feeling the same euphoria from
before; hes never been the calm one when Saffrons a gibbering
mess, its always been the other way around. Maybe its the
magic of being somebodys parent, perhaps, or whatever
chemical stew washes over a parents brain to make sure they fall
in love with their child and sign up for a lifetime of loving it.
Campbell looks down at Sage, and her eyes are nobodysnot
Dashs fawn-brown and not Campbells cloudy-green exactly,
more of a shifting hazel. The next kid Campbell will have to see
before naminga girl with eyes just like her big sisters would
make a wonderful Hazel.
Saffron is at Campbells side checking her phone for more name
ideas while the nurses go to tell Dash hes welcome to come
greet the good news. Saffron is listing more common garden
herbs she wants children named for. Campbell just enjoys
listening to her talk, like hearing someone recite a nursery rhyme,
her list is soothing.
Angelica is one, but its too popular maybe, she says. Shes
letting the baby suck on her finger while she scrolls through her
phone. Basil for a boy, thats a good one. Ooh, Coriander too, we
could call him Corey for short. Dill is maybe a little too much, but
ooh, she gasps. Juniper! Oh, I need a Juniper in my life, and so
do you. Then Dash comes through the door.
He looks stunned. He looks as if someone hit him in the face the
second before he walked into the room. Hes shaking his head as
he looks at the baby, as if to say no wayhe finds her literally
unbelievable, this baby. Hes got that look on his face still when
they go home from the hospital, even Reuben can see it when
they walk through the front door and are greeted by a Welcome
Home party.
You look like you dont even know your own name, Reuben says
with a pat on the shoulder. Saffrons kids finally forget about the
puppy for half a minute to be fascinated by the new baby. Sage is
passed straight to her cousins, nestled safely in Rosemarys
arms. As soon as the baby is surrounded, Campbell goes into his
bedroom for a nap. He leaves the door open though, because the
sound of a crowded house is soothing to him. Hes asleep in an
instant, and doesnt wake up until late afternoon. The house is
quiet by the time he wakes up, the sun setting.
Dash is sitting in the rocking chair next to the bassinet where
Sage is sleeping. Dash is still, just watching Campbell. Campbell
holds out his hand, so that Dash will join him. He gets under the
covers and wraps Campbell in his arms. Campbell puts his head
on Dashs chest and closes his eyes again, though hes not tired
and does not intend to go back to sleep. He closes his eyes so he
can concentrate on where he is in this moment. Dash starts
talking.
Saffron and Reuben brought over a lot of food, so neither one of
us is cooking anything in this house for a while, we dont need to.
They left about an hour ago but nobody could stand the idea of
waking you up, you looked too precious. Saffron said you should
call her when you wake up, but just . . . get around to that later,
dont get up right now. Sage went to sleep the second I put her
down. I sure hope shes always like that and its not just a one-
time thing. Her eyes are really prettySaffron says they might
change a bit over the next few months, I hope its a slight change
if any. Campbell lifts up and kisses Dash; thats the only way to
stop him babbling.
The kisses start slowlike molasses, like honeyand they get
deeper when Dash starts putting his hands through Campbells
hair. He really likes playing with the hair.
Campbell lifts up on his knees and starts to undress, and again
Dash stills, and watches him. The shirt comes off, the pants open
up, and that is when Dash reaches to touch him, to stroke him to
full attention. Campbell starts to unbutton Dash too, and then lies
down, his head on the pillow like he might go back to sleep, but
he takes down his pants first, and doesnt sleep in the nude. He is
smiling when Dash covers over him and kisses his cheek.
Are you happy, Campbell? Dash asks as he slips his hand
between Campbells cheeks and starts to touch him, to open him
up.
Very happy, Campbell says. He wraps his arms under his pillow,
loving the feel of the sheets, the comforting squash of the pillows
cotton, the smell of laundry soap still on the linens, and most
importantly that he shares this bed with Dash, who is touching
and prodding him with the same appreciation and wonder.
Youre sure this is okay? You arent too tender? You arent in any
pain?
Im not in pain, Campbell tells him. Hes a little sore, but its a
good kind of sore, a healing sortits a little like the first day after
working out, it hurts a little, but its not a problem, and theres
nothing stopping him from getting right back to his life.
Okay, Dash says, kissing him again, and making very carefully
sure that Campbell is well-lubed and at ease before entering into
him. He fucks Campbell slowly, gently, but somehow it doesnt
make the orgasm any softer. The opposite is true, in fact. When
Campbell reaches his climax hes nearly concerned about its
power, the way it shakes through his body and causes tears to
well in his eyes. Dash must feel that same sort of power, because
he doesnt finish with his usual grunting or moans, he bites his lip
and then he stays there. He lingers inside of Campbell like he
doesnt have the energy for anything else for a bit, and Campbell
is fine with this. Their life together has just started, this is still day
one, and already hes worried that itll all go by too fast. This
house, this family, this man who loves him . . . if only it could all
be immortal somehow, but since it isnt, times like this are all the
more important. On days like today, a moment or two must be
taken, to enjoy everything in its temporary state, because every
minute changes something; sometimes the change is for the
better, but its just not still, is all. Moments of pause will be
important to him. He hopes theyll be important to his kids too; he
knows Dash already understands this, because its how theyve
come together, here and now.
They get up when the sun goes fully down, and have some
dinnerSaffron made them a few casseroles, and they choose
one to heat up for dinner. They feed the baby when she wakes
up, then put her back to sleep. They toss a squeeze ball around
the living room for Oscar to use up some energy and get some
attention, they eat M&Ms for dessert, they nap until the baby
wakes them up again, and they watch the sunrise together.
Which do you prefer, sunrises or sunset? Campbell asks, as
they rock to and fro in the yard, Dash with his arms around
Campbell. The sunrise in front of them now is a pale, chalky pink
and blue, like an Easter egg. There are a few lines of clouds, and
theyre yellow with early morning sunshine, glowing gold.
Probably sunsets, theyre gaudier, you know? More interesting to
look at, or at least I see them more often than sunrises.
Thats why I like sunrises better, more rare to see, more special,
like this one. Not a lot of people are awake and paying attention
this early, it sort of feels like it belongs to us, you know? No one
else to share it with.
Are you sure youre not being a tad selfish, thinking like that?
Whole, huge sky full of sunrise and you think it should only belong
to you and me?
Well, you, me, and the dog, sure. Thats not selfish, its split three
ways.
Dash laughs. Well, thats good, I cant have my daughter learning
selfishness.
Oh, shes your daughter is she? Let me guess, when shes
cranky shell be mine, right, but when shes sleeping angelically
shes yours?
Is that not the arrangement you want, or what? That sounds
great to me. Are you on board with that?
Now Campbell is giggling too, thoroughly enjoying the way they
can tease each other already. What should we eat for breakfast,
more casserole?
Sure. I know for a fact that one of those suckers is a breakfast
casserole; your sister thought of everything.
Good, Campbell says, going inside to discover the whereabouts
of this breakfast casserole Dash speaks ofhes starting to get
quite hungry. There are smart genes in this family, that bodes
well for the future.
Its a future, and a rich, full life, that hes happy to have.

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1. A Dash, A Pinch, A Dash

Dashiell Reese leaves everything but his knives to his dishwasher

The second Dash walks out of Campbells Canteen, Campbell

5. Late Night Delight

Dash drives home with a hard-on so prominent and sturdy he

7. Staying the Night

It isnt at all the way Dash imagined it happeningits better. He

Campbells never taken a shower with anyone before, but he likes

Dash did not know that he could appreciate a one-night stand,

10. Dine & Dash

11. Stag Night Delight

Dash can hardly believe hes about to become a married man,

12. Home Cooking

With two weeks to go before the wedding, Campbell has a

13. Hard Work

14. My Gourmet Groom

15. Wedding Cake

The day of their wedding arrives. A sign goes up on the

16. The Honey Pot

Campbell used to think that a honeymoon without travel would be

17. The Melting Pot

18. The Watched Pot

19. Bun in the Oven

Dash is happy to know theres going to be a baby but . . . he is not

20. Bakers Dozen

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