Page 46 of My Big Fat Shifter Wedding

That was another thing I’d noticed in my nearly forty years of life: almost everyone got excited about surprise pizza. Especially since I made sure to have vegetarian and vegan options. Thankfully, when my students had filled out the class application, I had them list out allergies and food sensitivities. No one had a gluten allergy or coeliac disease. I’d done a lot of research in my first class for someone with a very severe form of that condition and in the end they still had to take their pizza home with them, because removing it from its protective box and insulated bag while everyone else was eating gluten around them apparently put them at risk for cross-contamination.

“These are for all of us to enjoy while I check out your finished projects. When I’m done with you, you’re free to leave, hang around and socialize, or ask me any questions for woodworking projects you want to do at home. You’ll find paper plates, cups, and napkins below your workstations. Soda and water are in the fridge in the back. And don’t worry, it’s been sterilized since the shop teacher forgot his lunch in there and it grew its own colony of… whatever that was.”

There were some cheers, including a truly hearty one from Amanda, a lot of claps, and smiles all around. It wasn’t thunderous applause or anything like that, but it might as well have been to me. It was a sign of a job well done and me bringing some brightness into people’s lives in a world that so often seemed so bleak.

“Now, everyone line up! I made sure to get a little something for everyone, yes, I’ve got vegan for you, Pat, don’t you worry.”

That brought about a few more murmurs of approval. Once people started lining up, I looked out over the happy faces. It wasn’t just Amanda and Olivia who were talking to each other, but my eldest student Rudy was laughing with the middle-aged couple of Pat and Patty (affectionately called Pat squared in my head) while another middle-aged woman, Vidalia, was clunkily signing to my hard-of-hearing student D’angelo. It was a temporary community, but it was still a community.

“Aren’t you going to have some?” Olivia asked. She was the last in line because she had the last workstation in the shop, but she didn’t seem to mind. I’d learned a lot about her in the last six weeks, and one of the many things I’d picked up was that she was always observing. Not in a paranoid or unsettling sort of way, but it was clear to me that she was so used to having far too much responsibility, so she was always on alert to respond to a need.

At least she wasn’t that way at my place. Truly, it was the only spot I’d ever seen her guard come all the way down.

I considered it an honor.

“I’ll have a bit after I go around. Hard to have a bunch of conversations when my mouth and hands are full.”

She leaned in slightly, her voice low even though she was the only one left in the line. “I don’t know. I kind of like it when your mouth and hands are full.”

I nearly choked on my own spit but managed to keep some semblance of normalcy. “Olivia!” I hissed.

“Thanks for the pizza,” she said as she loaded her plate with a piece of pizza from each box except the vegan one.

I took a deep breath as she headed back to her workstation, trying not to think about how much I also liked having my hands and mouth full of her. Shaking that thought away, I headed toward my first student to ask them about his project.

***

“Have you ever looked up at these high-rise apartment buildings and thought that behind all those windows is a person with their own story, their own heartbreaks and triumphs that we’ll never know?”

I paused mid-lick of my ice cream, taking time to consider what Olivia was saying.

Spring was starting to creep into summer, so our dates had shifted from indoor places to stay warm and cozy on a chilly night and to outdoor events where we could enjoy the relief after hot days that were only going to grow hotter. This led to us going to several outdoor concerts, a jazz festival that got rained out, a food truck rodeo, and a whole lot of walks.

“I can’t say that I have,” I answered honestly. In the three months that we had been dating, I’d never needed to lie to Olivia. When I made mistakes, we talked it out. If she said something that accidentally hurt my feelings or made me feel a certain type of way, she apologized and vice versa. I never once felt disrespected or trivialized, and it had led me to realize that a lot of my previous relationships and even friends-with-benefits situations hadn’t been healthy. And not just because of the women—it would be easy to blame them because they weren’t there—but because of my own flaws. Flaws I’d been working on lately instead of accepting their inevitability. “Do you feel that way often?”

I switched my focus from the myriad of windows to the gorgeous woman beside me. I didn’t think it was possible, but somehow, in the quarter of the year that we’d been seeing each other, she’d become even more stunning. Maybe it was her finding her style and being comfortable in it, but I liked to think that it was something else. Like maybe the healthy glow that came from a happy relationship. Even though I knew it was a little egotistical to want to be part of the reason, I enjoyed seeing my partner flourishing no matter the cause.

“No, not often. But every now and then. Honestly, it can be a little…”

“Overwhelming?” I supplied.

The smile on her face was so soft, so fond, it made my heart race. I’d been in situationships longer than Olivia and I had known each other, but none of them had moved me like she did. None of them made me stop and think the way she did. She truly took nothing for granted, despite always seeming like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. A weight I very much enjoyed her sharing with me.

Still, I could sense there was a lot she was keeping to herself. I hoped that as time went by, she’d let me in on those things, but I understood that I still had to earn more of her trust.

“Exactly,” she said, shifting closer on the park bench and leaning her head against my arm. We could get plenty of ice cream in the suburbs around where I lived, but supposedly the gelato in this park was the best in the city, and there weren’t really a lot of walking areas where Olivia and I could linger until well into the night. Whenever we went out together, we stayed out for as long as possible or until our desire grew too strong. “Overwhelming. It’s like feeling too much all at once. Like my brain is trying to work through a hundred different stories that are just as deep and involved as my life is.”

As difficult as it was to tear my gaze away from her dreamy expression and the soft shape of her lips, I looked back up to those windows and tried to do exactly what she was describing.

I didn’t get very far. Mostly, I imagined people I went to high school with. I thought about what jobs they might have, if they ended up marrying their high-school sweethearts or had some other torrid affair. And much like Olivia said, it grew to be too much too fast, especially when I began to wonder what they would think of me falling in love for the first time in nearly forty years.

No. We are not going down that path. Your life is your own, and comparison is the thief of joy.

Speaking of flaws I was working on, I’d started seeing a therapist via video call. I was much more consistent when I didn’t have to schlep over to their office. So far, I’d stuck it out for a month, where I usually stopped going after two weeks. One of the biggest things we were working on was my tendency to bully myself through pretend avatars of other people. In truth, most people didn’t think of me at all, and that was okay.

Except for Olivia, of course. I liked when she thought of me. I liked it quite a lot.

“Are you trying right now?” she asked, sounding amused. I wanted to see her face again, but I wasn’t about to ask her to stop leaning on me anytime soon. I loved physical contact with her, loved feeling like a strong and steady presence that she could count on.