Mikey and the Chickadee

Chapter 9 - Part 1

I settled back into wakeful existence with the fluttering undulation of a dead leaf, or of a sheet of paper, sidestepping erratically in its journey to the floor. Not one to suffer confusion upon waking, I resumed acknowledgment of my location without pause. Mikey lay still in dormancy next to me, chest exposed, swathed stomach-down by the comforter. With his eyes closed and pink lips slightly parted, his face softened to a faint melancholy that I observed as upsettingly beautiful.

I turned onto my side to face him and realized that part of this action was motivated by the will to assert my presence—as if to say that I am here, another muscled, male human in your bed next to you, the heat from my body uniting with yours, corralled in the tiny space between us, and this is what happens when you invite me to stay. Just in case you hadn't realized what you were up to, then here, behold the outcome of your decision.

My movement caused him to stir and his eyelids blinked open. They slowly closed again and he heaved himself onto his side, now facing me. The inches parting our two faces were in short supply—shorter, I assumed, than he was aware. He said in a small, hazy voice, "So have you...wait, hold on." Eyes still shut, he began again, "So you have very rudely pointed out, and so shall I confirm your allegations: Indeed, there are a few precious aspects of my life over which I retain tragically little control."

He was quoting. I wracked my brain for that single, complementary response and quickly dusted it off. "You're wrong," I said. "Just one aspect."

He smiled and his eyes flicked open for the second time, calibrating lazily on my nearby features. If our proximity just now became known to him, he did not show it. "Good morning, Chickadee," he said.

"Morning. Still thinking about the movie, I see."

He laughed hoarsely and lifted himself to a sitting position, staring blankly out toward his dresser. "Did you sleep okay?"

I moved to my back. "I did. What about you?"

"Like a baby. I don't remember a thing."

"Me, neither."

"That's good," he said. "Be right back." He left for the bathroom and I could not help but appraise his backside as he moved away from the bed, inwardly reeling at the way his bulking upper-thigh more than filled the leg of his underwear.

I checked my phone and set it back on the nightstand. It was after nine.

Mikey returned with his phone in hand and said, "I'm going to meet Sophie around eleven at the office. We still have a few things to sort out before the company meeting tomorrow."

I sat up. "No problem. I'll get going."

"Will you at least stay for breakfast?"

"Sure."

He rattled off some options as we dressed.

"Cereal is just fine," I said. "I don't usually eat much for breakfast."

As we ate Mikey held his spoon in his left hand; with his right he swept across the table, clearing away some invisible detritus from its surface. After repeating this motion several times he looked up at me and said, "If Sophie has a free evening this week, it would be cool if you could meet her. Would you be okay with getting dinner or something?"

"Sure, that sounds fun," I said.

"Awesome." He dropped the spoon into his cereal and seized up his phone. "Let me just look at a few things..." He smiled to himself as he tapped at the screen. "I'm guessing Tuesday will be okay. Six o'clock? Does that work for you?"

"Yeah, that's fine," I told him.

"Okay, awesome. Yeah." He set down his phone. "Fuck, this'll be so cool."