Waiting For August

Part 50 ~ Idiots and Intimacy

"You're an idiot."

I frowned and exhaled loudly.

"I mean, you do know that, right?" Naomi swirled her wine as she watched me work. She was wearing a tan wrap-dress and a pair of strappy shoes that she had probably worn to work that day. Her chair was pulled out from the table and her legs were crossed as she swung her foot.

It was dinner time; Friday, and I was putting the final touches on the meal. I had made pasta with meatballs and had a salad on the side. The pasta came from a box; but the meatballs and sauce were from scratch, and I'd had them simmering together in a saucepan for most of the afternoon.

Jonah and Ben chuckled. The were sitting across the table from one another with drinks of their own at hand.

"Why don't you tell him how you really feel?" Jonah said as he took a sip of his beer. He grinned at his partner.

Naomi turned on them. "Do you not agree?"

I glanced over my shoulder to see their reaction.

"Ah, well. I can sorta see his point." Ben said carefully, probably because he could see me watching. It was Jonah who's back was turned and therefore he had no reason to spare my feelings.

"But not even inviting August... that is a little harsh."

"Right." Naomi stated as if this validated her point.

"Wait. You didn't even invite him to come to dinner?" Ben shook his head. "I'm gonna change my vote."

I carried my wooden spoon with a splattering of sauce across the kitchen towards Naomi. I held it out to her. "Careful, it's hot."

She tasted it carefully as she nodded her head. "That's delightful."

"In my defense," I said to the three of them, "If August were here and living with me, as he should be, then I wouldn't have to invite him to dinner."

Naomi shook the spoon at me. "You are being way too stubborn."

I headed back to the stove to drain my pasta. I placed it in a large platter, tossing it with a bit of olive oil, some freshly chopped basil and a bit of Parmigiano-Reggiano before I carried it to the table. I had a cross-section of a log which I used as a trivet, and I placed it on the dining table before I brought over my saucepan of meatballs and sauce. When I returned with the salad, I joined them, sitting next to Ben and across from Naomi.

"I don't think I am." I looked between Ben and Jonah. "Is it really too much to want my mate to live with me? I mean, I live alone with more than enough space for us both, while he is camped out in a hotel room with no place to call home." I held my fork up as I spoke. "If one of us is being stubborn; it's him."

Naomi rolled her eyes at me, so I turned to the guys. "Imagine how it would feel for the two of you to be separated, night after night, day after day, for no apparent reason. How would that make you feel?"

Ben and Jonah looked at each other wearing similar frowns.

"First of all, no thank you. That sounds horrible." Ben said.

Jonah shook his head in agreement. "I'm getting all jittery and uncomfortable just thinking about it."

I looked smugly towards Naomi who was silently picking at her food as she watched us. See, my look told her. I wasn't the only one who thought that—

"However," Ben continued, staring directly at me as he did.

Uh-oh.

"I would be doing everything that I could to bring us closer together."