The ABO Serum

Old Dogs

When Gary responded to Bob's text that he was working on Monday, he meant it as an excuse not an invitation. He did not expect Bob to show up in the GenLife lobby at eleven in the morning with a picnic lunch. He started work early so it was an okay time, and the GenLife building had a nice atrium for sheltered outdoor lunches, but still, the wedding was only two days ago, and bringing him a picnic at work felt rather more like an intimate couple thing than an outside date would have.

Surprisingly, the food was good. Bob said he learned to cook when his wife had cancer, to take care of her. Bob mentioned his wife a lot. It made Gary feel awkward, so he decided he'd mention his husband more and try to make Bob feel awkward, but it hurt to remember. Especially when his body felt drawn to another man. It felt like a sort of betrayal, though that was ridiculous after ten years. He did end up telling Bob that he didn't have that opportunity for a long goodbye. His husband died suddenly of a heart attack.

"I don't know if that's better or worse," Bob said. "I felt like I did so much grieving while she was still alive, and I didn't want her to have to see that. Then, I felt relieved when it was over which made me feel guilty. I had time to tell her I loved her, but the whole thing was so emotionally messy. I've wished that it could have been a sudden clean end. But I can imagine you'd disagree."

"Yeah, I didn't get to say anything in his last moments. I wasn't even with him. But we always parted with 'I love you' so I didn't have any regrets. It was just hard suddenly being without him. There was a huge hole in my life. Part of the reason I agreed to move out here to the new lab was to get away from all the places I could feel his absence. And it has helped. I've begun moving forward again." Gary startled when Bob placed his large comforting hand over his own.

"I'm glad you did," Bob said. "I thought I was too old to make a new friend like this, but I'm so glad you're here. Our sixties aren't the end for us, but it was feeling like it before I met you."

The moment was too serious for Gary, so he lightened it in a rather reckless way by saying, "Speak for yourself. I could still get pregnant," as if pregnancy were always an option for him.

Bob's eyes went wide. "Seriously? At our age?" This precipitated a long explanation about the ABO disease that was far more technical than information widely circulated, but Bob managed to keep up. Something changed in the way he looked at Gary, knowing Gary could bear children. It was weird, but also wondrous.

Gary's assistant, Mac, was shocked when he came back from lunch ten minutes late. Gary was never late. And his expression was weird, like happy but also confused or exasperated. The way parents looked when their kids were being naughty but cute.

"What's going on?" She asked.

"I have no idea," he answered. But he whistled as he shelved returns.

He really couldn't explain how it happened if he tried, but somehow Gary was spending time with Bob on a daily basis. If Bob hadn't made it clear he was straight by talking about his wife all the time, Gary would have thought he was being pursued. Even if he wasn't, it did feel good to have such a persistent friend. He was like a puppy who could talk.

No, not a puppy. An old dog who got tired on long walks but still embarked on them enthusiastically. That's how they ended up at one of Carey's coffee shops downtown, talking about the merits of Cabs versus Ubers and whether they should call one or the other to take them back to where they'd started this ill-advised trek.

Insisting they could make it back on foot after a rest, Gary bought them iced coffee and asked if Bob might want to start walking together with him regularly. If this winded him, he needed more of a regular exercise regimen. And it was always easier to exercise with a friend.

Unfortunately, Gary's heat interrupted those plans in the second week. Since he had no mate, he went back into quarantine to wait it out. When Bob tried to visit the receptionist explained to him that Gary was not in any condition to receive visitors. When he insisted, one of the managers came out and lectured him about exactly what Gary was going through and how he ought to have some compassion.

Stunned by the vivid description of Gary's condition, Bob tried to make sense of all the new emotions he was feeling. Gary was fertile and desperately wanting sex they said but went into quarantine to avoid doing it with random strangers and having an unwanted pregnancy. He didn't want sex with strangers. Of course, he wouldn't. But what about Bob? Would he do? Could they have a baby together? Where were these thoughts coming from? Why would he want to have sex with another old guy? What would he do with a baby at this age? He'd be 86 years old when they graduated from high school.

But the image of Gary's face in his memory, especially when he smiled, caused Bob's chest to ache a little. And at night when he was all alone, the thought of Gary masturbating to take the edge off his heat gave Bob the first erection he'd had since before his wife passed away.