Animate Me

“Those things aren’t necessarily mutually exclusive, Nathan. She may care about him and you too. I could tell she really likes you and I would imagine you’ve gotten even closer since I saw you two together.”

“Yeah, you could say that,” I offer as I think about her asleep, curled up against me in her bed. My world felt perfect at that moment.

“Hasn’t she been with him a long time? Isn’t he her boss?”

“Yes,” I whisper. Don’t say it…don’t say it…

“It’s complicated Nathan.”

Damn. She said it.

“And you know what?”

Don’t say it…don’t say it…

“You have to have faith.”

Ugh. She said it. I knew she would.

I believe in Pixar, the tenacity of Walt Disney and number two pencils. I’m not so sure about a God who didn’t give me the skills or appeal to win my true love.

“But Mom, what kind of God would present me a Brooke and then take her away? And then she ends up with a damn monkey, not even someone that deserves her.”

“A monkey?” she asks bewildered.

“It’s a long story. Never mind.”

“Look Nathan, there’s a reason you both are going through this. I don’t know what it is but I do know it will make you stronger and even better if you finally get together. If you can find your faith it will get you through.”

“I wish I could believe that,” I moan.

“You’ll still see her around work, won’t you?”

“Not really, we’re on different floors. She did ask me to go shopping with her Saturday. What do you think that means. Do you think she thinks I’m gay?”

“No. She knows you’re not gay. Where do you come up with these things, really! It means she wants to spend time with you away from that Arnold’s world…some place you two can just be, without any pressure or people watching.”

“Really?” I suddenly feel more hopeful realizing she may be right.

“Yes,” she confirms. “I really think this can still work out, Nathan. So make the most of your shopping date. Be sweet and kind with her. Be yourself.”

I hold onto my mom’s words, they wrap around me and hold me up. She makes me want to believe in Santa, the Easter Bu

So for added motivation, after I crawl in bed, I wire myself up for the Dr. Wayne Dyer recording about relationships. I don’t fall asleep until he’s convinced me that I can take my destiny into my own hands. I can’t give up yet.

• • •

Saturday morning I get up early and take a run, eat some Fruit Loops and then shower and shave. I give myself a pep talk as I put on some of that cologne my mom gave me for Christmas. I’m looking my best and ready to go see Brooke.

When I pull up to her place she’s waiting by the gate. Either she’s really excited to see me or she doesn’t want me to go inside. I try to convince myself the former when I see the big smile on her face.

“Hey you!” she says as she slides into her seat. “Looking forward to our outing?”

“Well, I’m looking forward to being with you,” I reply smiling.

“What’s this?” She asks, pointing to the cup holder section of my car.

“Well, I know I can’t get you your macchiatos at work anymore, but that doesn’t mean I can’t other times,” I insist.

“Oh, Nathan,” she sighs happily, wedging her foamy drink out of the cup holder to take a sip. “You even did a drawing for me!” She holds it up and studies it with a big grin on her face.

“Yeah, it’s me post-shopping at the hip store.”

“Oh, it’s great! You’re so clever. Thank you.”

“Guess what else?” I grin as I reach in the back, grab the bag and set it on her lap.

“Krispy Kreme doughnuts!” she squeals.

“You didn’t…how could you? Now all my Zumba-ing is for naught.” She tears open the bag and pulls out a doughnut, immediately taking a bite.

“Sorry,” I mumble, gri

“Mmmm.” She closes her eyes as she chews. She has the most sublime expression on her face. “So good…”

As we wind down the hill towards the land of hip, she feeds me bites, in-between hers. I watch her lick her sticky fingers, her eyes dancing as she reaches into the bag for more to share.

I feel alive again, like a remastered cartoon print where every color is brighter and more vivid, every detail sharper. We laugh and joke in our own bubble, sugar flakes falling over us like snow on this brilliant California day.

Animate Me / Chapter Seventeen / Magic Jeans

“I was hiding under your porch because I love you.” ~Dug, from Pixar’s “Up”xvi

“So you’re trying on a ‘cute’ outfit at this Fred place?” I ask as we turn onto Melrose Avenue. “Cause if they have dressy yoga pants, that’d be my suggestion.” I grin, and as I glance over, I see she’s gri

“Hmmm, maybe they have some stretchy black velvet ones,” she teases.

“Yeah, fancy ones like that. Now, we’re talking,” I agree.

“Well, my personal shopper picked a few things so we shall have to wait and see.”

“Personal shopper? What does that mean?”

“If left to my own devices, I would wear jeans and hoodies everywhere. So Arnauld has this woman who works at Fred Segal’s put things together for me. It a

Svengali Arnold strikes again.

“Well, that makes two of us,” I agree. “My idea of clothes shopping is stuffing a few things in my cart at Target on the way to the video game aisle.”

“So is that why you looked so thrilled about this outing when I first asked?”

“Well, let’s just say I can think of other ways I’d rather spend our time together, but I’ll get through it.”

• • •

“What do you think?” Brooke asks as the salesman holds up a pair of men’s jeans with really narrow legs. I’d be very irritated with how close this guy is standing to Brooke, but when we approached his area he was practically grabbing another guy’s butt, so I’m not overly concerned. Besides he spent a little too much time assessing my body to figure out what style and size would work on me, so I’m pretty sure he’s pitching for the other team.

I’m having trouble focusing because there are so many distractions here in Fred’s collection of individual boutiques. To start with, our salesperson’s name in this one is not Joe or Bill or Dave, but Ransom. What the hell, kidnapper dude? I really wish he was out somewhere on a casting call rather than trying to help Brooke make me hip.

I turn back towards her to see that she’s holding up a tiny pair of jeans.

“Is that one of those pairs of ski

Brooke makes a face at me.

The salesman, who confuses me again by being the straightest looking gay guy, gives a wry smile. “I don’t blame you. They’re a bit restrictive. I don’t care how stretchy the fabric is.” He reaches for another style and checks the tag for sizing. “What about these? They have a great fit. They’re True Religion.”

“Holy jeans? Well, that’s a new concept. But they’re still too small looking.”

“You always wear your jeans baggy, Nathan,” Brooke says. “This is a chance to try something new. Besides, they’ll show off your great butt.”

Great butt? She really likes my butt! I can’t help smiling.

The salesperson nods with conviction, and I pretend I don’t notice. He also hands me a dress shirt to try on.