The silence was almost like another person sitting there on
the couch between us. It seemed to sum up everything there
was to say between us--nothing. We had said it all but there
was still something there, something tangible in the
silence. If things were different . . . If he didn't have a
boyfriend . . . If I didn't have a boyfriend . . . All
said without being said, there in the silence between us.

I hadn't planned or predicted any of this when I first made
the plane reservation for Boston. I came to visit colleges
the summer before graduation and planned to see the city,
see if I might want to live there at some point in my
life.

Then Cristi called Jonah and asked if I could stay with him
since he lived so close to Harvard. "No problem," he said
and offered to let me sleep on the couch. The same couch I
was sitting on with Chad and that palpable silence.

Jonah and I had never really talked to each other before
that weekend, even though it had been two years since his
sister married my brother. I felt uncomfortable imposing on
this seeming stranger. But Jonah (unlike most of my own
family) actually would have told me if I going to be a
nuisance. I had always admired how straight-forward he
was.

When I asked him, he assuaged my fears. "It'll be fun. I
don't know the city very well 'cause I just moved here but
my roommate went to Harvard. He said he'd help us figure out
where to go, what to see."

So I flew into this strange city with this strange almost-
relative of mine. I didn't know if Jonah even knew I was
gay. I had never had the opportunity to tell him and I
didn't think that Cristi had.

When Jonah and I got back from the airport, I found a travel
guide for Boston in the living room by the couch that would
be my bed. I picked it up and leafed through it. A piece of
paper fell out addressed, "Hey, Guys!" My eyes darted to the
bottom and where the signature was it only said, "I won't be
home tonight but I'll catch up with you tomorrow!"

On the page was a meticulously detailed list of 23 Things To
Do In Boston. It had page references which corresponded to
the pages in the travel guide. He inventoried them in
diminishing order from the things he thought we would like
most to the more questionable activities.

I smiled as I looked down the list, not because of its
content but because of its maker. I had never seen a man so
sweet and so anally-retentive. I looked forward to meeting
him.

The next day, Jonah and I left for Harvard--tour book in
tow--to take a morning tour. We followed Chad's advice on
where to start, which tour to take, which buildings to see.
By noon we were tired and completely satisfied with our
tour. Our absent tour guide had done us well.

It was on our way out of Harvard's main library that Jonah
stopped and waved to someone coming up the stairs. He was
cute in a boyish way but he also looked strong. That boyish
face made him seem open, accepting, inviting. He smiled when
he saw Jonah, an easy smile, one of those smiles that makes
you smile back.

Jonah introduced us and sometime while we were talking--
asking where we had gone, what we had liked--I knew that
Chad was gay. Something as intangible as the way he
empathized or showed he was actually interested in something
Jonah or I had to say. Something about his awareness, his
eye contact. Something.

Chad had to work out and we were on our way to take another
tour. We made plans to meet up with Chad that night.

As we walked away, Chad called to us. "Have you guys seen
'The Hunchback of Notre Dame?' I think we're going see that
tonight."

I smiled again. A Disney movie. The little boy in him. We
made plans to meet that night.

"Chad's pretty cool," Jonah said a little later.

"Seems pretty cool," I said.

I paused, thinking how to talk about this with my straight
sister-in-law's brother. "I couldn't tell if he was gay or
if he was just from Boston."

"Oh, he's gay," Jonah said. He surprised me with his matter-
of-factness about it. "He told me before we even moved in
together. His boyfriend sleeps over at our place all the
time."

"That's cool," I said. "That's really cool." Another pause.
"Do you know that I'm gay, too?"

"Yeah," he said, almost apologetically, like maybe he wasn't
supposed to know. "I mean, that's what Cristi told me. I
hope it was alright she told me." He started blushing and
that made me start blushing.

"Yeah, yeah. I don't care who knows. I just wanted to make
sure you knew 'cause we had never really talked about it
before . . ."

We continued talking about being gay until the tour
began.

* * *

We were laughing hysterically when the lights went out.
Which only made us giggle more--roar, really. Even in the
moonlight, I could still see Jonah sitting in the chair
across from me holding his belly. Chad was beside me, his
head thrown back, also holding his belly. Seeing them laugh
made me laugh more.

Chad started winding down his laughs, sucking in great
breaths of air between laughs. Jonah and I followed
slowly.

"Should we go check it out?," Chad finally asked. For some
reason that sent us into giggles again.

"No really. Should we?," Chad asked again. This time Jonah
and I managed to giggle little giggles.

"Yeah," Jonah said. "I think I know where the fuse box
is."

"Your bread!," I said to Chad.

"Shit!," he said as he got off the couch and ran towards the
kitchen. Jonah and I followed.

"It's okay," Chad said once he got to the kitchen. We all
huddled around his bread maker, peering into the little
dollhouse-sized window that let us watch the mysterious
alchemical process churning inside. "It's cooling off now;
it doesn't need electricity to do that." Then the lights
came back on and we started laughing again.

This time it was Jonah who wound down first.

"What time is it, anyway?," he asked.

"Three twenty-three," Chad said. Jonah groaned and I
giggled.

"I'm gonna be screwed tomorrow," he said. "My first day at
work and I'm up 'til three a.m. I'm gettin' to bed. I'll see
you both tomorrow."

And that's when Chad and I sat down on that couch that would
be my bed and were joined by that weird silence, that
somehow calming silence between us. The silence sounded so
jarring now after all the laughs we shared that night, all
the smiles Chad and I had given each other, all the ideas we
shared. And in that silence, the words ran through my head:
This was a great first date.

There was so much affection and tenderness and attraction
between us. When Chad told me the next morning that he had
felt it, too, I wasn't sad that something could have
happened but didn't. I know we could have slept together and
made love and that neither David nor Ed--his boyfriend--
would have ever found out. But we didn't. And because he
didn't want to sleep with me while he was committed to
someone else, I was attracted to him even more.

"Well, I better get to bed, too," he said. He still didn't
move off the couch. Did he want me to press him?

"Yeah?," I said. A question? A statement?

"Well, goodnight, then."

I only nodded my head. He stood up.

"Goodnight, Chad. It was wonderful to meet you in this
strange city. You made me feel at home."

"It was a pleasure meeting you, too." He made it seem more
than a cliche. "Goodnight."

I curled up on the couch and closed my eyes, thinking of
moving to Boston and that little window on the bread
machine.