The Cat in The Window - 1. Chapter 1

My name is Brandon Gorman. Just call me Brad. I’m twenty-nine years old. I went to work in my chosen profession, right out of college, when I was twenty-four. I took a gamble with my job. Let me explain.

My boss, Jaden Moore, is a few years older than I. When he graduated college, he went to work for a very prestigious architectural firm. After four years, he decided that he had to move on. He was earning a very healthy salary, but he couldn’t abide how regimented everything was. He had no artistic freedom at all, and his designs had to conform to a strict set of rules.

One day, against his better judgement, and warnings from his wife, Jaden quit, and went out on his own. He leased a very small office in midtown Manhattan, and hung up his shingle, so to speak.

One of his college buddies had taken over his father’s business. He constructed one-family dwellings, mostly in the suburbs. He asked Jaden to give him some designs, and after viewing them, he hired Jaden on the spot. Jaden’s house designs were spot-on originals. They only lacked restricting rules and regulations, and Jaden was delighted about that. As time went by, he also got hired by other builders.

After one year, he was so busy, he advertised for an associate in Architectural Digest. I was two weeks shy of my graduation, so I answered his ad. I met him at his small office and I was not impressed. However, when he told me that he had gone from zero to operating on all cylinders in one year, I did become impressed, and I knew that I wanted to work for this man.

When Jaden initially took the plunge, his wife threatened to leave him, and she did. He wasn’t too sad. He told me that he went clubbing every Saturday night, and never failed to take home a beautiful woman. That didn’t shock me. Jaden is exceptionally handsome. He works out several times a week, and the bottom line is, he’s a hunk.

I’m gay, so I notice such things. I told him up front that I was gay, and he gave me a very so what attitude. Much to my delight, he hired me, and I began working for him on the Monday after graduation. Most of my classmates were still unemployed, so I considered myself to be very lucky.

At the time I graduated high school, I had no family at the ceremony. My father disinherited me when I came out on the morning of my high school graduation. He and my mother did not attend my graduation. They had no idea that I was class valedictorian. I was able to rent a furnished, one-room, efficiency apartment in lower Manhattan. Fortunately, I had a bank account with four thousand dollars that I had amassed from summer jobs during my high school days. I also got a partial scholarship from Columbia University. All through college, I worked as a waiter in a fine dining restaurant. They were only open for dinner. It was perfect for me.

My hard work paid off. I was able to afford the apartment, and to continue my studies. I graduated in six years instead of four. Given the circumstances, it was a major achievement for me. I asked Jaden to attend my graduation. He was my only guest, and he got very emotional, which surprised me, because I hadn’t started working for him yet. I found out later, that he had been raised in foster care, and since his divorce, he had no family either. His emotions were a portent of the close relationship that would grow between us.

With a job in my pocket, I could now afford a nice one-bedroom apartment in a better neighborhood. Unfortunately, I’m a procrastinator. I’ve been with the firm now for almost five years, and I still live in the efficiency. Why not? It’s cheap and Greenwich Village adjacent.

Just so you know, after six years, since Jaden began the business, our firm now has fancy offices in the financial district, five other associates besides me, and Jaden made me a partner. I can afford a condo on the Upper East Side now, but I still live in my college efficiency apartment.

I told you that I’m a procrastinator.

******

My office is best reached from my apartment by bus or subway. I prefer the bus. The subway is always a mass of humanity, and I am sensitive to the body odors. It’s six of one and a half dozen of the other, anyway. From my apartment I only need to walk one block east to the bus stop, or one block west to the subway. If the weather is bad, I take the subway. That way, I can wait for the train in a sheltered area, and not in the open, while waiting for a bus to arrive.

The morning that the fates took over my free will, I walked to the bus stop. I had to pass a row of town houses, called brownstones in New York. As I walked, I glanced at the brownstones to see if I could look through any inviting window. About halfway down the street, I glanced in a house. Sitting on a sill, in a ground floor window, was a big orange cat. It looked obese. It was way overfed.

As I walked past the house, the cat’s eyes followed me until I was out of sight. It bugged me somewhat, but I didn’t know why. Every day after that, as I passed by, I waved at the cat, and it followed me with its eyes. Other than that, it didn’t move a muscle.

One Monday morning, when I had been working for Jaden for three months, I automatically waved as I passed by the cat in the window. Imagine my embarrassment.The pet’s owner was standing at the window, holding the cat. I waved before I realized that a man was standing there. He waved back. I didn’t know what to do, so I smiled at him, and moved on. He smiled back. I guess it might be said that we had an encounter.

He was very handsome. I’d say he was about thirty-five. He had brown hair, and I suspected brown eyes, as well. His body was muscular, and I got the hots for him. He was fully dressed in a business suit, so I figured he was about to leave for work in a stuffy office. My office was more informal. I was wearing a sleeveless sweater vest, and no tie. I hardly ever wore one, even when meeting with a client. My office reflected Jaden’s philosophy of no rules or regulations.

It became my habit to wave at the man and his cat, every morning. Somehow, we were becoming friends without ever having met. In time, I began to smile broadly at him, in addition to waving. I began to mouth the words, ‘good morning,’ and then he did too. his went on for about six or seven weeks. Then the inevitable happened. As I passed by the house one morning, the owner was just leaving. He was descending the steps from his front door. He spotted me and smiled.

“Good morning,” he said, “we meet at last.” I suspected that he had orchestrated this meeting, despite making it sound like an accident.

He stuck out his hand to shake mine. “My name’s Cal Torrence, and you are?”

“Brad Gorman,” I answered, hardly above a whisper.

“How do you get to work?” he asked.

“I take the bus at the next corner.”

More than one bus route stopped at the corner, so he asked, “Which number bus do you take?”

“The 604, and you?”

“The 607.”

“That’s too bad,” I said, “but we can walk together to the bus stop.”

“I’d like that,” he said. “What’s your line?”

“I’m an architect, and what do you do?”

“I own a small microchip company,” he said proudly.

The die was cast.

We established that we were both single, and a couple of weeks later, he asked me to have dinner with him the following Friday evening. Neither one of us thought that it was a date. In fact, to further emphasize that it was not a date, we agreed to meet at the restaurant.

When we agreed to meet at the restaurant, I asked, “What’s your favorite eatery?”

“I need to tell you something,” he said very seriously, “and I suspect you won’t mind at all. I’m gay, and my favorite restaurant is a gay bar in The Village, called The Male Room. If you feel that you’ll be uncomfortable going there, we can go elsewhere. What’s your favorite restaurant?” he asked.”

“It’s a place in The village called The Male Room,” I said, and I began to laugh my sides off. Cal laughed also.

“In that case,” he said, “I live right up the street from you. I’ll make reservations, and I’ll pick you up at 6:30. Is that okay with you.”

“It’s perfect,” I mumbled shyly.

For the first time, I wished I had a better apartment; one furnished in my taste. I was embarrassed for Cal to see my humble abode, but I’d explain it to him.

If we weren’t starting something, you can tear up my membership card in the gay club.

******

When he knocked on my door, I asked him in. We hugged each other for the first time, but no kisses.

“What time are our reservations,” I asked.

“Unfortunately, the earliest I could get was 8:30.”

“Then we have plenty of time. Let’s have a drink before we go.”

We had time for more than one drink, but I didn’t offer a second. I wanted to be sober, just in case. When we finished our drinks, I suggested we go to the restaurant, even if it was still too early.

“We can socialize, and get better acquainted,” I said.

“I’d like that.”

Cal smiled at me and leaned in for a kiss. I kissed him back, more passionately than he expected. The man kept smiling at me, and I was simply losing the battle to keep everything platonic.

When Cal realized how passionately I had kissed him, he asked, “Would you like to skip dinner, and stay home where we can get even better acquainted than at the bar?”

“I certainly want to get as acquainted as possible, but let’s have dinner first. It’s Friday. We have all weekend to make love, or as you put it, to get better acquainted.”

I was surprised that Cal hadn’t commented on my efficiency apartment. I told him that I was looking for a one bedroom, preferably in this neighborhood. Again, I was overwhelmed by his ingratiating smile.

“I think I have the perfect place for you,” he said. “We’ll talk about it later.”

We called for a cab, and headed for The Male Room.

The die was cast deeper.

******

At dinner, I asked him what he meant about having the perfect place for me. He dove right in.

“My house has three bedrooms, so I have two unused ones. I set one up as an office. How’d you like to rent the other room? It meets your requirements; a better apartment, in our neighborhood.”

“Wow,” I said, “give me a couple of days to think about it.”

That was a subterfuge. I really wanted to see how things would go for us this weekend, before deciding.

“It would be great for both of us to have company at night and not be lonely,” Cal said, trying to add spice to his offer.

“That’s for sure,” I replied. “What would my rent be?”

“I don’t want to make money off of you,” he said, very seriously. “I just need to cover food, extra utilities, and a small portion of my mortgage. Would $750 a month be agreeable?”

Cal was surely joking. Apartments in Manhattan, even one-room apartments, rented for more than $2000 a month, closer to $4000. Hell, I was paying $1800 for my efficiency. Originally, I had paid $800 a month, but inflation took its toll after all these years.

“It’s more than satisfactory,” I said. “Are you sure that’s enough?”

“Yes, I’ve crunched the numbers. We can hang out here for a while after dinner, but then come home with me tonight. I want to show you what I have to offer.”

I loved that double entendre.

When the check came, Cal insisted on paying. “After all.” he rationalized, “I asked you to have dinner with me.”

“But that would make it an official date. I thought we agreed that this wasn’t a date. I insist we go Dutch.”

“I’ll give in this time, but when you move in with me, we’ll change the rules,” Cal said.

“Don’t rush me,” I said. “You promised that I could have a few days to think about it.”

“Fine,” Cal said, “take all the time you need. For sure, I’m not renting to anyone else.”

Once again, he leaned into me and he kissed me. I kissed back.

After dinner, we went to the piano bar. The area was very crowded, and Cal and I could not avoid being pushed together. I felt his erection, and I prayed that he felt mine. I finally figured out that if we didn’t make love tonight, I would have a permanent case of blue balls.

It was obvious that we were very aroused. Our eyes met, and he said, “Please, Brad, let’s go home.”

He started toward the front door, and I followed him like a puppy.

******

We entered his apartment, and all our restraints flew out the window. We wrapped ourselves together, and started to undress one another. We let our clothes fall haphazardly to the floor, and when we were naked, we stared at each other with the intention of memorizing every vein, every mark, every dimple on our bodies.

We are both cut, and about seven inches erect. I think Cal is a little fatter, but I’m not sure. I wanted to fall to my knees and swallow that beautiful man tool, but Cal stopped me.

“No,” he said, “let’s shower first.”

He led me to a bathroom in the hallway. I was not surprised.The brownstone was over a hundred years old. There was no master bath, just this one. For one silly moment, I thought that would be a bit uncomfortable. Then it hit me. I wouldn’t mind sharing anything with Cal, even an inconvenience.

He turned on the taps in the bathtub shower. When we were happy with the water temperature, we stepped in. We had intended to take a short, cleansing, shower, but lust won out once again. We sucked and rimmed, but it was too uncomfortable. When I tried to start fucking Cal, he stopped me.

“In bed,” he said, “it’ll be more comfortable.”

We dried each other, and ran back to the bedroom. Cal is older than I, and obviously more experienced. He took over. I was flat on my back, and he graced me with the first of many trips around my world. He didn’t miss a spot, front or back, except he stayed away from my cock and balls. He was teasing me, so I said, “Switch positions.”

We did, and I reciprocated. By now, we were in a sexual frenzy. This time, I didn’t listen to Cal. I started to suck his balls. I swear, his cock grew larger. I took his luscious lollipop into my mouth, and started to suck as sensually as ever I could.

Suddenly, Cal pulled out. I asked if I had hurt him.

“No, of course not, but I want to fuck you,” he mumbled in my ear.

I started to laugh. “Silly man,” I said. “Tonight is the beginning of our forever. Let me finish you off. I want to taste your cum. Then you can do me. When we’ve rested, we can fuck. It’s Friday night. We have all weekend, no, we have a lifetime.”

Cal sighed. “Does that mean you’ll move in with me?”

“Of course.”

“When?” he asked.

“Would yesterday be all right?”

“Perfect,” he laughed.

“I just thought of something,” I said. “You will still have a room to rent.”

“Never, I want you all to myself.”

Despite the late hour when we finally quit making love, Cal insisted on making coffee or tea, and he defrosted some Danish pastry to go with it. As we were having our repast, I thought about Cal’s cat.

“Where’s your cat, and what’s its name?” I asked.

Cal’s face clouded over. He looked disturbed.

“I don’t have a cat,” he stated emphatically.

“Sure, you do. It’s overweight, orange, and it sits in your window every morning.”

“Do you think that you might have my house mixed up with another? All these brownstones are in a row, and they all look alike,” Cal said, trying to clear up a misconception on my part.”

“Not on your life. There’s no way I confused your house with another. I saw you holding the cat often.”

“Brad, I swear to you. I don’t have a cat, at least not now. When I was a youngster, we had a big, overweight, orange cat named Sylvester. My mom is allergic to dogs, so my dad bought me a cat when I was about nine years old. I loved that cat, and when I was on my own, he kept me company on many a lonely evening.”

“What happened to him?” I asked.

“He grew old and sick. I was forced to put him to sleep seven years ago.”

“But, I tell you, I not only saw him, I saw you holding him” I insisted. Tell me I’m not going mad,” I screamed too loudly.

Cal reflected for a long time, and finally spoke. “Let’s assume that your experience was paranormal, but it brought us together. In that case, let’s not look a gift horse in the mouth. If that’s not what happened, then I posit that our guardian angels brought two old soulmates together. Honey, I don’t want to question anything. I’m just thankful that we found each other.”

“Okay,” I said. “I won’t question what happened, but I have one request.”

“What’s that?” Cal asked.

“Let’s keep this our secret. Now that I’ve found you, I don’t want to be committed to a looney bin.”

“Done,” Cal said.

“Cal, I need to tell you something,” I said. “I don’t believe in an afterlife, or ghosts, or guardian angels. At least, I didn’t used to. After this, I intend to be more open minded.”

“Me too,” he murmured.

I moved in with Cal immediately. I never saw Sylvester again. I had never been so much in love, nor so happy, in my life. A year later, Cal and I were married. Jaden was my best man, and when he found his happily ever after, I was his best man.

Cal’s parents, and a handful of his relatives, were at our wedding. I wouldn’t invite my parents, if I knew how to reach them. They were completely out of my life.

Cal found an old photograph, from when he was about thirteen years old. In the picture, he’s holding Sylvester, and hugging him tightly. I had the picture framed, and it’s prominently displayed on our mantel.