Outside The Crystal Bubble Read online

  “It’s all right,” Peter smiled, deciding he liked Adam. Short, clean-cut, well dressed, and polite, Adam had a very professional bearing. From the conservative haircut, gold Rolex, and tasseled loafers, Peter guessed Adam was a white collar professional. Probably law or finance. With an unlined face and honey blond hair, Peter knew Adam could be anywhere from 20 to 40 years old, but decided it was more likely he was in his early thirties.

  After they ordered, Peter resumed their conversation by asking how long Adam had been in recovery. He figured it was a safe question since most alcoholics were eager to announce their sobriety date.

  “Two years this time,” Adam replied. “Had three years the first time round, but a bad breakup ended that. In total, I have five years with a six-month hiatus.”

  “Ah, the bad breakup,” Peter commiserated. “Probably responsible for more relapses than anything else. I’m glad you found your way back.”

  “I am, too,” Adam smiled. “Thought I met the love of my life. Closeted CEO in his sixties. He told me we had to keep our relationship secret until he retired and I reluctantly agreed. When he finally retired, he ghosted me to marry some twink he imported from Brazil. I was totally blindsided.”

  “He ghosted you?” Peter frowned, unfamiliar with the term.

  Adam nodded. “Blocked me from contacting him by phone, email, text. Shut me out of all his social media accounts. Made it impossible for me to contact him. That’s how it’s done now. I had to find out about his new husband from a friend.”

  “That’s so gutless,” Peter muttered. “Nobody deserves to be treated that way. I’m so sorry.”

  “Thanks,” Adam nodded. “Anyway, I tried to get my revenge by drinking Nebraska dry for six months. When that didn’t work, I started going to meetings again. Nobody criticized me for my slip. They just welcomed me back with open arms.”

  “Sounds like a good group, Adam. Hope I can become part of it.”

  “I’m sure you’ll be a welcome addition,” Adam grinned. After sipping his coffee thoughtfully, Adam asked if Peter had friends in Omaha.

  “I did years ago,” Peter replied. “Lost touch over time. My parents had a farm about a hundred miles northwest of here. When they sold it, they retired to Palm Springs, so I had no reason to come back here.”

  Handing Peter his business card, Adam offered to help Peter settle in if he relocated. “If you’re looking for a good hair stylist, dentist, realtor, or attorney I can offer suggestions.”

  Studying Adam’s business card, Peter said, “Securities analyst. Does that mean you analyze stocks and bonds and recommend them to clients?”

  “I do the research and turn it over to brokers who work with our clients,” Adam explained.

  “I see,” Peter murmured, tucking the card into his billfold. “I may take you up on your offer. First thing I need is a realtor. Pretty sure I want to live downtown, but I need a realtor to show me the properties I’ve identified as prospects.”

  “I know just the guy!” Adam exclaimed. “Marco Liu. Gay, Chinese, early thirties. More camp than a row of tents, but he won’t embarrass you. Very professional in public. Knows the downtown market extremely well. If you give me your phone number I’ll send you his contact info.”

  Peter handed Adam an old business card. “Cell phone number at the bottom is current.”

  As he entered Peter’s info into his phone, Adam said, “Pool business, huh? I’m sure that’s very lucrative in California.”

  “And very competitive,” Peter chuckled, grateful three of his former employees were able to arrange financing to buy his business.

  “Where are you staying while you’re in town?” Adam asked.

  “900 Building, only a few blocks from here,” Peter replied.

  “One of Todd Overton’s units?” Adam guessed.

  Nodding, Peter wondered how Adam knew.

  “Todd owns a lot of rental property downtown,” Adam explained. “Think he only advertises on gay websites.”

  “Yeah, that’s how I found him,” Peter murmured.

  “You’re just a couple blocks from my office. Maybe we can get together for lunch this week.”

  “That’d be great,” Peter grinned. He really liked Adam. Genuine. Gainfully employed. Very attractive. In recovery. Seemed to like older men. Peter thought it was odd that he was attracted to the very first man he met in Omaha. Was he that desperate to be in a relationship again? Or was Adam the ideal mate he’d been seeking his entire life?

  As Adam drove home, he was amazed by the sudden turn of events. Earlier that night he was thinking how limited his dating opportunities in Omaha were. He saw the same people at work, the gym, AA meetings, and at the bars week after week. He desperately wanted to meet a sane, mature, single, sober man. Fearing he’d never meet the right man in Omaha, Adam had been exploring other cities on-line. Cities where his firm had offices he could transfer to. Dallas. Atlanta. Chicago. Minneapolis. Even San Diego. Then Peter materialized right before his very eyes.

  It was almost enough to make Adam believe in miracles again.

  Chapter 3

  As Peter was about to enter his rental condo, his neighbor appeared in the hallway. The attractive young man waved and smiled at Peter.

  “I’m Jaden,” the neighbor introduced himself as he rushed over to shake hands. “You must be Peter from San Diego.”

  “I am,” Peter smiled, detecting a slight British accent. “Nice to meet you Jaden. How do you know who I am?”

  “Your condo owner is also my landlord,” Jaden explained. “He owns five units in this building. Todd mentioned you’d be here for the month of June.”

  “That was thoughtful,” Peter murmured as he studied Jaden. Average height and weight, clean shaven and slim, Peter guessed the young man was in his late 20s. “Looks like you’re on your way out or I’d invite you in for a drink.”

  “Another time,” Jaden smiled. “I work the late shift at a nearby hospital. Need to run along or I’ll be late. Let’s chat soon.”

  “Since you sleep during the day, I’ll try not to make too much noise,” Peter promised.

  “Thanks!” Jaden called over his shoulder as he ran to catch the elevator.

  Watching Jaden disappear into the elevator, Peter shook his head. So far he’d met two people in Omaha. Both were adorable, much younger men. If Adam was right about Todd only renting to gays that meant Jaden was also gay.

  “So far, so good,” Peter grinned as he entered his condo.

  Rising with the sun, Peter showered and shaved while brewing his morning coffee. Rather than watch the news, Peter filled a giant coffee mug and sat on the balcony. He wanted to see the city below come to life. Solid brick and glass buildings surrounded him. Freeways brought commuters into the city to work, but there were no snarling traffic jams. There were no oceans or sandy beaches, however, there was a sea of green. All the trees and bushes lining city park trails had come alive with the spring rains.

  It wasn’t the view Peter was accustomed to, but he was convinced he could get used to it. Maybe come to love it. He might even enjoy the view when everything was covered with snow, as long as he didn’t have to shovel it or drive on it.

  Peter called the realtor Adam suggested and made an appointment to see him. He also sent the properties he wanted to view so Marco would know what he was looking for.

  After two giant mugs of coffee, Peter went inside and checked his email. While he listened to business news, he searched the Net for places to shop and eat. Just as he finished his grocery shopping list, he heard a knock on his door. Checking his watch, it was exactly eleven, the time Marco said he’d drop by.

  Flinging the door open, Peter welcomed Marco inside. As they shook hands, Peter was amused by his realtor’s attire. Wearing a Chicago Cubs baseball cap, polo shirt, baggy plaid shorts, and flip-flops, Marco looked ready for the beach. Short, with trendy blue-framed glasses, Marco was cute and casual.

  Sensing Peter’s surprise, Marco quickly
explained. “This is normally my day off, so I was with my nephews at the zoo when you called. Didn’t have time to go home and change.”

  “I’m sorry,” Peter apologized. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your day. I suppose it’s too late to reschedule since you’re already here.”

  “No need to apologize,” Marco assured Peter. “Clients always come first. Especially a client who’s already done so much homework. You seem to know what you want.”

  “I do,” Peter nodded. “There are some very good choices nearby.”

  “What about this unit?” Marco asked.

  “Didn’t know it’s for sale,” Peter replied.

  “Everything Todd owns is for sale at the right price,” Marco snickered. “That old queen has more money than God. He only rents or sells to gays. Have you met him yet?”

  “No, all our contact has been on-line. I like the building and neighborhood, but this unit is too small. Only one bedroom and one bathroom. Even though I’m recently widowed, I’d like more space.”

  “All right,” Marco nodded. “Since all six properties are within a few blocks, do you mind if we walk? Adam said you’re in excellent shape and it looks like he wasn’t exaggerating.”

  “You spoke to Adam?” Peter chuckled.

  “He called a few minutes before you did,” Marco smirked. “Told me to expect a call from a gorgeous California guy. Asked me to give you the VIP treatment since you’re one of us.”

  “One of us?” Peter echoed.

  “Gay in recovery,” Marco grinned. “Queer Chinese can be drunks, too!”

  “Yes, I suppose,” Peter murmured. He was flattered by Adam’s compliment. Peter also realized he was dealing with a very small, tight-knit community. He needed to be careful what he said. He had met three people so far and they were all connected directly or through his landlord Todd.

  Chapter 4

  “How long have you been a realtor in Omaha?” Peter asked as they walked to their first property.

  “Since I graduated from UNO ten years ago,” Marco replied. “Grew up in Chicago. My parents wanted to get away from the gang violence, so we moved here while I was in high school. I hated it at first, but Omaha grows on you if you let it.”

  “And you met Adam through AA?” Peter asked.

  “I met Adam while we were still using,” Marco admitted. “We closed the bars many nights, and then went to after-hours parties. Even hooked up once, but discovered we’re not a good match in bed. Now we’re just friends. Good friends. Sometimes competitors, but still friends.”

  Peter assumed that meant Marco and Adam were attracted to the same men. That wasn’t unusual in a small community. Made for a lot of drama which meant Peter had to be sure not to send mixed signals.

  “I suppose you know all about Adam’s bad breakup,” Peter said.

  “Of course!” Marco cried. “I warned Adam he was being played by that closet case.”

  “How did you know?” Peter asked, wondering why Adam claimed he had been blindsided.

  “Cuz Adam’s closet case was very active on every gay hookup site,” Marco snickered. “I told Adam his lover was out trolling for tricks every night, but Adam just blew me off. Insisted his lover told him he never used those dating apps after they met, but that wasn’t true. You’ll probably discover Adam is very determined to have his way. Master of selective recall and focus. Screens out any data which might interfere with him achieving his goals.”

  “I see,” Peter murmured. “You must be the friend who told Adam about the young husband from Brazil?”

  “Yup,” Marco grinned proudly. “Ran into Adam’s wicked ex and his new Brazilian twink shortly after the ghosting. We belong to the same health club. The old troll only goes there for massages while his horny young husband prowls around, sticking his dick into every willing orifice.”

  “Open relationship, huh?”

  “More like a revolving door,” Marco sneered. “I can understand why. I saw Brazil Boy in the shower. He could be president of the double-digit members club.”

  “Double-digit members club?” Peter frowned.

  “Gotta have a member ten inches or longer,” Marco giggled. “He’s at least eleven inches soft. I’m told it’s more than a foot long hard, but it’s bent.”

  “Bent?” Peter smiled.

  “Yeah, curved. He’s got Peyronie’s Disease. Scar tissue inside makes his dick curve up. If he ever gets the surgery to remove the scar tissue, his dick could be 13 or 14 inches erect. Biggest dick this tiny Asian will ever see. He’s tall with shiny, smooth, very dark skin. Screwed one of my friends in a toilet stall at the club. Told my friend he was the third trick of the day and it was only noon.”

  “Must have made your friend feel very special,” Peter snickered.

  Nodding, Marco said, “That young man has needs which obviously aren’t being met at home. I wouldn’t go near him though.”

  “Skin color?” Peter guessed, surprised Marco might be a racist.

  “I like black men just fine,” Marco replied. “It’s bugs I hate. Club manager told me several guys complained they got crabs from young Gabriel. When the manager passed the complaints on to the offending couple, they insisted Gabriel had been thoroughly deloused before entering the U.S. Apparently the visa physical back home turned up a variety of lice, tapeworms, and other hitchhikers. They had him de-bugged, put him on PrEP, and gave him all his STD shots. Still, any man who has sex with strangers half a dozen times a day is bound to pick up more bugs, am I right?”

  “I suppose,” Peter murmured. “Haven’t known anyone that active for decades. Didn’t realize there are still people like that.”

  “Oh, yeah!” Marco giggled, deciding it was time to get back to business. “Will you need help finding a mortgage or will this be a cash purchase?”

  “Cash,” Peter replied quickly. “Already sold my home and business in San Diego. Once I’m settled I might want to buy some investment properties here, too.”

  “Great!” Marco beamed. “I can help with that. The six properties we’re looking at are in the most expensive buildings downtown. There are some very nice properties further from downtown. If not for yourself, maybe as an investment?”

  “Yes, we can look at some of those, too,” Peter agreed. “On paper, all the units we’ll be looking at today meet my needs. I’m interested in seeing what condition each property is in. If there’s adequate guest parking and security. Good views. Conveniently located garage space. Things you can’t tell by visiting a website.”

  “Of course,” Marco nodded. “Don’t think you’ll find much fault with any of the six properties today. They’re pretty much the best this city has to offer. However, you might prefer one building layout over another. So, are you exclusively a rice queen?”

  “No,” Peter laughed, surprised by the abrupt topic change. “Why would you ask that?”

  “Found your Facebook profile,” Marco confessed. “Noticed your husband was Thai. Can I assume you prefer Asians?”

  “No, I don’t really have a racial or ethnic preference,” Peter insisted. “Dusit is the only Asian I ever dated. Before Dusit there were a variety of men. Mostly white, but a few Hispanics, too.”

  “You’re an equal opportunity kinda guy, huh?” Marco teased.

  “Guess so,” Peter grinned as they entered their first property.

  Peter was impressed with all six properties they visited. All had great views, were well maintained, and had a variety of amenities. He couldn’t find fault with any of them. Two units surfaced to the top of his list. Marco told him both units had been on the market more than six months, so the owners might be receptive to offers below the asking price.

  “That means I don’t need to make an offer right away,” Peter remarked. “Let me think about it a while. I’ll make a list of pros and cons for each unit. Honestly, I don’t think I can make a bad choice. They both fit my needs.”

  “That’s what I like to hear,” Marco grinned. “Some buyers make
me show them a hundred listings, then decide they like the first one we looked at best. Since it’s past one, can I buy you a late lunch on the way back to your condo?”

  “Sounds good,” Peter nodded, enjoying Marco’s constant chatter. All he had to do was prime the pump with a simple question and Marco flooded him with information.

  Gesturing toward an Italian café, Marco said, “Let’s duck in there and you can tell me why you decided to return to Omaha after such a long absence. Did you miss the blizzards? The tornadoes? The truck-sized potholes? Daily grain reports?”

  “All the above,” Peter laughed.

  “Or did you just get tired of nice weather, sandy beaches, and sexy surfer dudes?”

  “I hate to disillusion you, but California isn’t the perfect paradise many Midwesterners think it is,” Peter warned. “Sky high tax rates. Outrageous health insurance premiums. Quakes. Wildfires. Sometimes the smoke was so bad we couldn’t use our balcony, pool, or patio for months at a time.”

  As they were seated in a booth and given menus, Marco said, “What really drew you back here?”

  Peter shrugged. “Euphoric recall I guess. I enjoyed being a student here. It was easy to get around. People were nice. Moderate cost of living. I left here seeking something different. Found what I was looking for in San Diego. Large LGBT community. Great business opportunities. Beautiful weather. Nice beaches. Lots to see and do within easy driving distance. It was ideal for a young man just starting a career. Many of the things which drew me to California are no longer important. All that’s left are the annoyances. I’m interested in a smaller gay community. An affordable home where most of the things I want and need are within walking distance. Somewhere I’m fairly certain my money will last the rest of my life.”

  “Makes sense,” Marco nodded. “How much of a factor was losing your husband in your decision to relocate?”

  “That played a big part,” Peter admitted. “I didn’t want to be the poor widower all my married friends pitied for a while and then ignored.”