Time Warp: Everything Put Together Falls Apart

[Joshua Bernstein]

Josh scowled playfully at his friend. "Now you sound like my mother," He complained. She, too, expressed concern for his eating habits, although her solution was to find him a girlfriend rather than to teach him to cook. That she had told Talia many times (in Josh's presence, no less) that a woman's worth was more than her skills in the kitchen and that any man Talia dated should cook for himself unfortunately had no bearing on this.

"It isn't that bad! Besides, it's only me. If I had a family it would be more important, you know, meals together and all that."

[Dr. Sean Neville]

The distraction helped, and, inwardly, Sean felt intense gratitude for that. Nudging his friend about his eating habits came easily, since the telepath cared about Josh and wanted him to live a long, happy, healthy life, which included proper nutrition.

Not that he took kindly to the comparison to Josh’s mother. Sean liked Mama B; she viewed him as a surrogate son, treated him kindly, invited him to holidays and family gatherings, and shared recipes with him. She also had some prejudices that the telepath found uncomfortable – and, although he had never broached the topic with Josh, he found it telling that the other man had yet to come out to his family for fear of his mother’s reaction when Sean had been out to his conservative Catholic family for a decade.

When Sean told Josh that he could find a relationship, he said so from optimism and affection, and he never coupled that with the implication that a boyfriend should cook his meals, clean his apartment, or do his laundry.

Even though Sean had done most of the house chores and all of the cooking when they had dated.

When he finished with the tomatoes, he moved on to slicing the cucumber and the peppers, waiting until he had done all of them before dumping them into the bowl, as they didn’t ooze the way tomatoes did.

“Being a bachelor doesn’t make cheese sandwiches three nights a week good for you.”

[Joshua Bernstein]

Josh scoffed. "Being a bachelor means I make my own schedule, and my own schedule doesn't have time for more than cheese sandwiches most days."

He elected to ignore the fact that even among his single coworkers he had the most suspect eating habits. Many of the other attorneys at his firm cooked for themselves and took their health too seriously for cramming crackers in their mouth between meetings or taking fifteen minute smoking breaks every hour.

"It's not that bad. At least I eat."

Most of the time.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“I work the same hours as you do,” Sean pointed out. In fact, his day started earlier than Josh’s, because he had to deal with Hammel’s first bell, and high schools always started no later than 8:00a.m. Between late appointments, disciplinary sessions, chaperoning events, advising clubs, and staff meetings, often the psychiatrist didn’t leave the school until well after the sun had set.

Despite all of that, he ate real breakfast in the morning, real supper at night, and he kept his house immaculate. A house with five bedrooms and large front and backyards.

Sean plucked some olives from the jar in the refrigerator, using those to top off the salad. Then he drizzled some salad dressing and tossed it. With that, he turned around, handing the bowl to his friend so that Josh could take it into the living room to serve himself.

“You don’t have to learn how to cook anything complicated, but since you like eating home-cooked meals when you get them, it would be worth it to learn a few dishes.”

Josh had a mother who cooked well and a friend who enjoyed cooking; he should take advantage of the underlying knowledge rather than the occasional meal.

[Joshua Bernstein]

"Maybe. But cooking seems so hard! I don't know how anyone ever learns!"

Which was to say that he didn't want to learn, because he was already convinced that he wouldn't be able to do it.

And anyway, he wasn't about to go squeeze into the kitchen while Sean was cooking; there was barely enough room for one person in there, let alone two. So rather than worry about that for the moment he chose to ask, "Do you want beer with supper or water?"

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“Home Economics and from their parents.” Sean knew that Josh’s remark had been rhetorical; he knew the telltale signs of his friend arriving at a preconceived notion and then attempting to realign reality to support his perspective. The telepath wouldn’t let him do that with cooking, since it was a basic life skill.

Sean could do many incredible things, most of which involved his powers or his empathy and patience, but cooking didn’t rise to that level.

“That’s how I learned,” he reminded the younger man.

The telepath hadn’t expected to excel in Home Economics, but he developed a knack for it, and his teacher had been both patient and kind. Likewise, once he had the basic skills, his mother had welcomed his assistance and furthered his knowledge. Not the way she had with Kathleen, since, as a girl on the cusp of womanhood, his sister had been expected to learn how to keep house for her husband.

Kathleen worked now, as did her husband, and inwardly, Sean was grateful for that. He loved his mother, but the world didn’t work the way it did when she grew up. More than that, he supported gender equality in education and the workplace, and he wanted his sister to have the same opportunities he’d had. Even though they disagreed about so much otherwise.

“Beer, please.” He might be distracted by the meal, but he still wanted to drink himself into oblivion.

The oven beeped again, this time informing him that the kugel had finished. Once more donning the oven mitts, he pulled the pan from the oven and set it atop the stove to cool. The milky, cinnamon aroma invaded his nostrils, and, while he couldn’t smile, his stomach growled. That was almost the same.

[Joshua Bernstein]

Home economics! That's almost as bad as biology!" Josh gasped. He waited until his friend had moved (mostly) out of the way before grabbing two more beers. "Or chemistry. Don't ask me to mix substances together if you value your life."

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean sighed softly at his friend’s protests, although he stepped back to allow the other man safe passage to the refrigerator for their beverages. “I managed to tutor you in anatomy and chemistry,” he reminded the other man.

While he could hardly argue that distraction had taken its toll on Josh’s grades in some areas, they hadn’t dated the first semester of Josh’s freshman year at NYU. Instead, upon learning that the other boy had somehow managed to sign up for higher level science classes without the proper background to assist him, the telepath had volunteered to tutor him. He had tutored him, had helped him grasp enough about the concepts to enable to him to do well. Not as well as Sean had done in the class when he had taken it, but Josh had earned a respectable grade.

Of course, they didn’t have Home Economics in college, for which the telepath was grateful. Even though he supported the notion of all college students learning basic life skills.

With Josh out of the way, he turned to the brisket and began slicing it for the two of them. He served some onto his friend’s plate first, before turning to his own. Then he cut them each a square of the kugel.

[Joshua Bernstein]

"And if you quizzed me on either subject today I would fail," Josh pointed out. He clinked their beers onto the coffee table, just above their place settings. "You're a perfectly good tutor, but I'm an atrocious student."

That wasn't entirely true; Josh had done well during his K-12 days even when skipping classes with Donald. With most topics he easily picked up the material and breezed through his courses. Science had been somewhat more difficult than other classes, particularly once he reached college, but overall he had been an A student.

However, there was a problem with achievement with little effort, and that problem was that he tended to assume that when a topic wasn't effortless that he simply wasn't capable of learning it.

And that was how he felt about cooking. He had read over recipes in home ec class in high school, but it had been utterly confusing. And so of course that meant it was beyond him, and he ought not to try.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“That’s because you haven’t needed to know it for about sixteen years,” Sean pointed out. Josh had done well enough in the class that term, and the telepath had insisted on helping the freshman choose his courses for spring. Not all of them, since the other boy had his heart set on becoming a lawyer, and the telepath knew nothing about the course requirements for pre-law. But, insofar as helping him with his required science courses, Sean had wanted to make sure that Josh took something appropriate for a freshman.

Josh wasn’t a patent attorney; he didn’t represent laboratories in law suits about environmental issues, and his form didn’t do a lot of medical malpractice over all. As a result, he had no reason to remain up on biology and chemistry, and, as the brain often did, his knowledge of those areas had faded to make room for information he used more frequently.

None of that meant he couldn’t understand science if he put his mind to it. It also had no bearing on cooking.

However, Sean’s heart wasn’t in the argument.

He carried both plates out into the living room, setting them down at either place on the coffee table, before collapsing onto the sofa.

[Joshua Bernstein]

Josh nudged one of the bottles towards Sean with a half smile. "You deserve a treat after all that work."

No matter that Sean had told him several times that he liked cooking; Josh couldn't fathom enjoying it, and it had obviously taken a long time. Ergo, his friend deserved a reward. For instance, the beer that he was going to drink anyway.

"I don't know what I did to deserve a best friend who cooks for me!"

He knew that had he remained friends with Donald he wouldn't be getting any home cooked meals out of their relationship. But that friendship, to his disappointment, had faded away as they had grown apart. He wished that it hadn't ended, not least because knowing that his former best friend was more of a misogynist and homophobe than he had noticed growing up had soured what would have been nice memories.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“Thank you,” Sean said with a soft sigh. His mood had turned somber again, something he didn’t want to do lest it spoil their evening. Yet, he could do little to regain the jovial distraction of a few minutes ago. That had always been a problem for him after breakups; respite from the misery felt so fleeting.

He couldn’t fake a smile, but he did nod to acknowledge both the remark about a treat (which Josh had made in jest), as well as the compliment inherent in the other remark. Picking up his beer and twisting off the cap, he replied, “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

That went beyond running errands for one another or doing chores, or preparing meals. It went beyond gentle teasing and playful banter. It went beyond the fact that they were best friends but they had dated once upon a time.

Rather, it went back to the fact that they were best friends who had dated once upon a time. Right now, Sean simply felt gratitude to have someone who cared about him deeply enough to take him into his home on such short notice when the telepath needed to be anyway but his own house right now.

[Joshua Bernstein]

Josh stuck his fork into his brisket with a laugh. "I think the better question is what didn't you do? Don't you have best friends knocking down your door? Especially since you're all the way in Vermont!"

Surely there was at least one person angling for that position since the person currently occupying it wasn't even in the same state. It wasn't as if Josh could blame Sean if he wanted a best friend who was closer, who could go out to eat with him after work instead of having to plan trips and balance schedules.

But he was glad that Sean hadn't replaced him.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean brought his beer to his lips and took a long sip. He frowned slightly at the implication that he might find someone to replace Josh.

Their arrangement worked for the telepath, because Josh was his best friend, and he didn’t want anyone else to fill that role. He shared emotional intimacy with the attorney, he was in sync with the attorney when they were together; he and Josh had spent more than a decade and a half as close as two people could be, and he could foresee nothing that could change that. Breaking up hadn’t ended their friendship, after all.

And, while Sean didn’t want for friends up in Pilot Ridge, this changed nothing about his relationship with the younger man. His only regret about their friendship was the fact that they no longer resided in the same state, and that the distance between Pilot Ridge and the City was 400 miles, rather than the twenty or so between Manhattan and parts of New Jersey.

He set down his beer and reached for his knife and fork to cut into his beef, since he liked to get that out of the way before eating. “Who would knock down my door?” He asked, and he did so with a bit too serious a note in his voice.

He didn’t mean specifically, but, in general.

[Joshua Bernstein]

Josh hasn't expected such seriousness in reply to his teasing.

"Well anyone would want to be your best friend! " he answered with sincerity. "I expect this is a contested position."