*Whew*
Back from the long holiday sweep. So back to the business of posting stuff here, yes?

Staccato Signals of Constant Information - Avi

Since I'd instigated the lunch at Milk Street, I was very concerned that it all work out OK.


All right, to be honest, I'd be worried no matter which one of us had instigated it. I always feel awkward in one-on-one situations with new acquaintances, and I didn't want to make a fool of myself in front of Dan. Now that the Gang of Three had planted the idea that Dan was interested in me, I was really worried that I would say something inappropriate. I had nothing to go on regarding Dan's sexuality other than Dalia's hunch. And, while I trust Dalia's hunches most of the time, she has been wrong a time or two. And it's always me that ends up embarrassed when she's wrong.

So now I was standing in front of the Milk Street Café having second thoughts about this lunch. My excuse for us getting together was very flimsy, and I was honestly surprised that Dan had agreed. But he had, and now I was here, waiting.

I looked at my watch for the second time in five minutes. It was still only 12:25. I had five more minutes before Dan was even scheduled to meet me, and that was only if his meeting ended on time. I was on a two-hour break, so I wasn't worried about getting back to the courthouse, but I figured that if lunch got too awkward I could beg off early.

I looked at my watch one more time. 12:29. I wasn't sure whether, as our appointed meeting time came, I was more worried that he would show up or that he wouldn't. I didn't think Dan would blow me off - he'd said he would call if he was running late, so I figured he really meant to meet me - but in some ways I would have a much easier time if he did. I could then go back to the Gang and explain that Dan had stood me up, and that would be the end of my brief experimentation into same-sex relationships.

If that was even what this would turn out to be. Heck, for all I knew, Dan was straight and involved with someone. I actually knew very little about him at all.

Though I could change that this afternoon, if the conversation permitted such personal questions.

"Hey, Avi!" I looked up again to see Dan headed down Milk Street toward me. "Sorry if I'm a bit late," he said. "I had to wait forever for the Red Line."

"Actually," I said, "you're right on time." I stuck my watch back into my pocket and smiled at Dan. "So...you ever been here before?"

"I've had their food at various work things, but I really didn't know they were kosher until just now. That is, I figure they're kosher or you wouldn't have recommended them." Dan looked quickly at the menu posted in the window of the café and then said, "Looks good. Let's go eat."

"They try to be subtle and attract clientele other than just the kosher-keepers. And I've seen people without kippot having business meetings here, so it seems to be working." I knew I was rambling again, but I was unable to stop myself. "Anyway, the food's good, so that's the place's main selling point."

We got into the line to order and after just a couple of minutes we were sitting down at one of the tables, our trays laden with food. Or, at least, mine was. Dan had gone for the Caesar salad and soup, I'd gone for the soup-and-entrée combination. Oh - and one of the decadent brownies. I almost never turn down an opportunity for one of Milk Street's brownies.

It took me a couple of minutes to realize that I'd been concentrating on my food much more than usual and that I was using it as a way to escape actually conversing with Dan. But I didn't know if I could say anything without it becoming a rambling mess again.

Luckily, Dan broke the silence. "So...what is it that you're up to today? Do you frequently have jobs that take you to Government Center?"

"I go wherever the job is," I said honestly. "I find myself travelling all over eastern Massachusetts, and some weeks I'm in Worcester one day, Dennis the next, and Lawrence on the third day. There aren't enough interpreters to fill all the jobs that people want us for, so we get gigs all over. During the school year, I have a relatively steady stream of business from the various colleges and universities, but during the summer and winter breaks, it's much more random." OK, I had now proven to myself that I could not avoid babbling like an idiot in front of Dan, but he didn't seem to mind it. In fact, he asked another question.

"Do you always carry a pocket watch? It's kind of cool - I love them, but I know I would lose it within 15 minutes if I wore one."

"The one I use was my grandfather's. He gave it to me when I graduated from college. At the time, I didn't know just how much use I'd get out of it. But I hate having a watch on while I'm signing - it distracts me, and that is very bad for an interpreter. So I started carrying a pocket watch, and now it's what I use exclusively."

"So it's handsome and practical. That's just cool." Dan ate a couple more bites of his salad, and I decided that it was time for me to start asking the questions; while he now knew such trivia about me as my preference in timepieces, I knew close to nothing about him. I didn't want to seem nosy or intrusive, but if the goal of this lunch was to get to know Dan better, I would have to actually get him to talk about himself.

"My siblings liked meeting you on Sunday, as did Dalia," I started. "Do you have any siblings?" The question was stilted and sounded a bit idiotic, but it still served my purpose - getting Dan to talk so that I'd stop rambling.

"Yeah," he said with a smile. "I have one brother, Dudu...Dave. He's three years younger than me. When we were younger, we were really competitive with one another. But now that we're older, we've actually become very close. Much to our mother's surprise." Dan chuckled quietly, then continued. "Actually, I had just gotten off the phone with him yesterday when you called."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. He'd just suggested that I call you, invite you out for coffee again or something, and then the phone rang. That's why I was a bit short with you when I first answered the phone - I hadn't wanted to delay calling you because of some random caller."

"You were talking to your brother about me?" I asked, pleased for reasons I couldn't - or wasn't willing to - identify.

"He's the one I go to when I need to talk something out, need to figure out how to approach a situation."

I smiled. "Sounds like he serves a similar role for you as the Gang does for me."

"'The Gang'?" Dan asked.

"Jake, Chava, and Dalia. I've called them the Gang of Three since I was in high school."

"So you and Dalia have been together for, what, 15 years?" Dan looked perturbed, and that confused me. I had really gotten the impression yesterday that he and Dalia had gotten along during the tour.

"Actually, longer. She joined our class in tenth grade, and I was one of the only people who could communicate with her without the interpreter. So she and I ended up becoming friends very quickly...and lab partners, and study partners, and so forth. At times it must have seemed to my parents like Dal had moved in. And she was a good friend to Chava, too, who was going through the awkwardness of puberty compounded with her discomfort with being different because she's deaf. Dalia became Chava's mentor in many ways, showing her how to turn her differences into strengths."

Dan nodded. "I can see how that would be valuable for both of them," he said. "But can I ask you something that's totally not my business?" Dan asked.

"Uh...sure," I said. "But I reserve the right not to answer."

"Perfectly reasonable," he said. "So why haven't the two of you gotten married yet? Two frum people dating for over 15 years but still single? Haven't your parents - or hers - pressured you?"

I smiled. It was a common question, given the way Dalia and I interact. "No, Dalia and I aren't dating and we never have. Everyone seems to think we are, though, when they first meet her. It's just that - outside my immediate family - Dalia's probably the woman I'm most comfortable with, and most people interpret that as us having a romantic relationship. So if you're interested in her, I'm in no way an impediment."

Now Dan was smiling, too. "It's not Dalia that I'm interested in."

"Huh?" OK, so I'm not always quick on the uptake.

Dan's expression immediately turned more serious. "I may be completely wrong here, and you have every right to be offended if I am, but I'd like to think that you and I have enough in common to perhaps see where this might go - friendship or something more."

I blushed and looked down at the table. If I was understanding him correctly, Dan was asking me out. And I had no clue how to respond. In my wildest imagination I hadn't anticipated anything like this happening at lunch.

"Avi? You OK?" Dan's concerned tone pierced my confusion enough that I looked up again.

"Yeah...just overwhelmed," I said. "I...I don't know what to say. I don't know what you want me to say."

"Tell me the truth. That's all I ever ask. If you're not interested, let me know. If this has made you decide that you don't want to even maintain a friendship with me, I'll understand. Hell, it wouldn't be the first time I misread someone."

Dan looked so worried that I squelched my automatic instinct to flee and instead contemplated what answer I could give. He wasn't wrong in the least, and I knew I had to tell him that. But I didn't know how. I was so inexperienced, so unsure of myself, that I was positive I would screw this up. Fleeing was, honestly, looking like a pretty good idea.

I presumed that Dan's idea of what we were going to be embarking upon was significantly beyond what I was ready for. For my own sanity, if Dan and I were about to begin some sort of relationship beyond a simple friendship, I was going to have to set boundaries and then stick to them. I've never been good at either one of those. But if I was going to stand up for myself, this was the time to do it, even though I knew that actually saying anything was going to be terribly embarrassing.

"OK," I finally said, "here's the truth. You didn't read me wrong, but you did." Dan started to speak again, but I waved him off. "Here's what I mean: yes, I am beginning to explore what I'm really looking for, and it's looking more and more like what I'm looking for is a relationship with a man rather than with a woman. But, and this is the key, I have no experience with this, and I have no idea what, if anything, you might expect from me. And I don't want to be pressured or cajoled or wheedled into anything before I am ready. So if you're prepared for that, then fine – let's see where this goes. But if you're not ready to go at my speed, let's forget this conversation ever happened and just see if we can be friends." I knew I was blushing, and I could see that Dan was staring at me. I looked down at the table, unable to meet Dan's eyes again.

I couldn't believe I'd said all that out loud. But Dan had asked, and if I couldn't be up front with him from the start, this whatever was going to be very short.

I waited to hear what Dan was going to say. But he was completely silent.