Let It Beatle

Love, Love Me Dude-7

“Hi, Tory,” he said, seeming a little unsure as to what his reception would be.

“Maury?” I was stunned. “What are you doing here, hon? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Um, can I come in?”

“Oh, sorry, sure. Please.” I moved out of the way and he stepped inside.

I closed the door and moved toward the kitchen.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” I asked, eyeing the half empty wine bottle that still sat on the table, and the pot of coffee on the counter.

“No, I’m fine, thanks.” I turned back to him, watching his eyes as they roved over the items on the table. “Am I intruding?”

“No, no. Wheeler just left, so we’re okay.” I observed Maury’s facial expressions change a thousand times in a few seconds.

“I see.” He coughed. “So, uh, are you and he a thing now?”

“What?” My laughter was incredulous. “Hell, no! Bygones. He was just here asking for advice.”

Maury looked relieved, but he tried valiantly to hide it. “Really?”

“Yeah, really.” I walked over to the couch and sat. “Take a seat, if you want to,” I said, “unless this is a quick visit. I was about to choose a movie.”

“I, ah, came to give you some of Sheila’s sweet potato pie.” It was then that I noticed the container he carried in his hand. “She was sorry you couldn’t make it to Thanksgiving dinner, so she wanted you to have some dessert. It’s really good.”

I took the container from him and set it on the low table before me. “Tell her thank you very much. I’ve had it before, and you’re right. It’s very good.”

I went back to deciding which movie to watch, giving Maury time to say what was really on his mind.

“Uh, Leonard Novak was there, too, and I think he and Sheila are getting close. They get along very well, and the kids really like him.”

“Huh,” was my response. There was more to this conversation. I just had to wait.

“Tory…” he began, and then stopped. I chose a Punisher flick and put it in the DVD player.

“Since you don’t seem to be in a hurry to go anywhere, why don’t you sit down and watch this with me? I’ve seen it many times, so I can pause it whenever you’re ready to talk, okay?”

Maury sat beside me, and I pressed play. Five minutes later, he grabbed the remote control and paused the screen.

“Tory,” he began, “I’m sorry for acting like a spoiled brat the day I told you I was taking the job with Mr. Murray. I…” He paused, then started again. “I try so hard to be the adult Sheila and the kids need me to be, but I’ve never had a boyfriend before, or a serious relationship.”

He stood and paced in front of the TV. “When I started working here years ago, you were so nice to me, so sweet, so good-looking that I fell for you completely, and I couldn’t shake it. And I was fine, loving you from afar, but then Wheeler Ridley turns up and I see how he looks at you, and I know I can’t compete, and probably never could. It dashed all my unrequited hopes. I told myself—well, my heart, really—that it was time to move on, to think logically, to do what was best for Sheila and the kids. But it hurt, Tory.”

Maury stopped to face me, and those beautiful eyes of his were filled with a depth of emotion that took my breath away. “I wanted you, but I couldn’t have you, not then, not ever. I acted badly, and I apologize. Anyway, that’s the story. I wanted to be a man about the whole thing and not some snot-nosed kid with his nose pressed up against the window pane, pining for something he’ll never have.”

Oh Maury.

He took a little package out of the jacket he still wore, and gave it to me. “I know it’s not Christmas, but I’m thankful for all you’ve ever done for me and mine, and I’m certainly grateful for having you in my life, in whatever way I can get you. And that’s okay with me.”

Completely humbled, I took the package and tore off the wrapping paper. When I opened the box, there was a keychain with an Ode to Hermes, the god of speed engraved on the metal tag in red ink.

“This is beautiful, Maury. Thank you,” I said reverently, and immediately got up to find my ring of keys and add this to it. “I will cherish this, always.”

He smiled shyly. “You’re welcome, Tory. I know how much you like to run, so…well.” He looked at his watch. “I should go. Although…” He frowned, then sighed. “It’s probably too early. Sheila gave me ‘the eyes’“—he used his fingers to make quotes in the air—”not to come back until late since Leonard was staying over for a bit.”

“Watch the rest of the movie with me, then,” I said, patting the couch. “I don’t mind your company.” I smiled at him.

He hesitated. “I’m not…”

“Please?” I batted my eyelashes at him and he laughed.

Maury grinned. “Okay, okay. You win.” He removed his jacket this time, revealing that turtleneck he’d worn when I’d seen him in town that day, the one that really fit him well. “Bring on the punishment.”