A Tale of Two Trucks Read Online Free PDF Page A

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    “You’re welcome,” I managed to say. “And I do understand what it’s like to… to have someone leave you, when you’re still in love with them.”
    “Oh!” he said, startled. “I… I didn’t know….”
    I rearranged the chicken and confessed, not daring to meet his eyes, “I just ran into my ex at the store. He… he was with another guy, looking all happy and stuff, and I just…. It just hit me again, how much I loved him—how much I had loved him, and how much it had hurt when I’d found him cheating on me…. It was just the worst feeling in the world.”
    “Yeah. Like a ton of bricks hit ya, right in the gut.”
    “Exactly!”
    “So, you… you’re gay ?” Joe blurted out.
    I looked up at him and blinked.
    “Well, yeah ! Of course I’m gay. Isn’t it obvious?”
    “Well, I… I didn’t know…. All the guys said you were, but I… I didn’t wanna peg you as gay, just because you were… y’know… small .”
    I stared at him for another moment before I burst out laughing. In fact, I laughed so hard and for so long that I nearly let the potatoes get scorched, but I recovered in time to pull them out, wiping my tears on a dishcloth. Poor Joe looked like he didn’t know whether to laugh along or be mortified at having made some flagrant faux pas , so I patted his arm reassuringly.
    “It certainly would be wrong to peg someone as gay just because they’re small ,” I soothed with an irrepressible grin, “but regardless of my size, I am definitely gay! Notice the gay man’s impeccable attire,” I declared, in my best David Attenborough impression, stepping back to let him take in my clothes. “See the perfectly creased trousers, pressed even on the weekend! See his fashionable deck shoes, coordinated to match the exact color of his belt! Notice, too, that the brand-name polo shirt is ever so slightly tighter than what the average American male would wear, for the purpose of flaunting his body in the gay man’s intricate mating rituals—a fascinating subject, about which very little is still known!”
    Joe was beginning to smile again, somewhat self-deprecatingly but amused by my prattle. I moved over to the stove to check that the chicken was done and began loading everything onto the plates.
    “Really, Joe, if you know what signs to look for, I practically scream ‘gay’ in neon lights. But thank you for not jumping to conclusions!” I told him, handing him his lunch.
    “You’re welcome, I guess,” he said with a grin. “And thanks for cooking!”
     
     
    A NY fears I had of things getting awkward between us, now that Joe knew for sure that I was gay, were soon dismissed by how naturally he mentioned that his mother-in-law had requested him not to contact Cindy about the dress, since she was worried about dredging up unpleasant memories for her daughter. Her suggestion was to donate it to Goodwill, which apparently had a separate store for women who needed work outfits or nicer clothes for special occasions. Joe also asked me to help him go through his closets and get rid of some clothes that “aren’t up to snuff, since you’re good with that sort of thing.” I beamed at the compliment and promised to take him clothes shopping sometime to update his wardrobe too.
    After all of the tough stuff we’d both had to deal with—especially Joe!—it was nice just to joke and talk about work or our favorite TV shows over lunch. I was glad to find out that he was also a fan of NCIS (although not quite as rabid a fan as I) and took the opportunity to warn him that, should he ever have the poor judgment to call me on a Tuesday night, I would not answer the phone. The NCIS hour was sacrosanct.
    “Don’t take it personally,” I added. “I just think that Leroy Jethro Gibbs deserves my full attention!”
    “What about Tony?” Joe teased good-naturedly. “Don’t you think he’s handsome?”
    “Tony is a total homophobe—didn’t you see the episode where he kissed