The Lion’s Mail Order Menage

And it didn’t make him a chick, either.  It made him a man.  It made him sure that there was still enough humanity in him to feel things in a real way and that wasn’t something he was prepared to be ashamed of.  In his opinion, it was a good thing.

“No, not a chick, just tired.  I need to rest, man.  And I need to think.  This was a lot, OK?  I need some time.  Why don’t you go on and get some lunch without me, go find Geno and the boys.  You know they’re always up for a meal.  I’ll call you in a couple of days, OK?”

“A couple of days?  Are you for real with this?”

“I am.  I need a couple of days.  Thinking I’m gonna go off the grid for a spell, get my head in order.  Especially if there’s going to be this big change coming.  You know I’ve never been a big fan of change.”

“That’s true, I guess you haven’t.  OK, that’s fine, I guess.  You take your time, go off the grid and get your head right.  Just make sure you do it quickly because those chicks are coming whether you’ve got everything screwed on right or not.”

“I know.  I got it.”

Tyler gave him a contemptuous look, a look with pity in it, and made his exit, making sure to slam the door on the way out.  Finally, Caleb was alone, splayed out on the floor and looking up at his ceiling with empty eyes.  How could one night of drinking have made things so monumentally different in his life?  How could it have cost him so dearly? 

He felt like the rug had been ripped out from underneath him, like he didn’t understand his world the way he thought he did, and he wasn’t willing to leave his apartment until he felt like he had his control back.  He didn’t really care how long it took to get it, either, not really.  He was a pretty patient guy and he happened to live in a city where you could order pretty much anything you wanted twenty-four hours a day. 

As it turned out, it took five days.  Five days of reading his books and staring out the window, of listening to old records and eating take out right out of the cartons.  To be fair, it took almost two full days to fully shake off his hangover, which was necessary if he was going to be able to think straight. 

But then it was just him and his world, the two together alone, trying to decide what sort of man he was turning into and what kind of man it was he wanted to be.  And who knew how much longer he would have holed up that way, had he had the chance.  He could easily have turned into a hermit if it hadn’t been for the timid little knock he heard on his door late one Friday night. 

He would have thought it was Tyler, but he was pretty sure Tyler had never done anything in his life as quietly as that knock.  He got up, feeling the strangest sensation of excitement and foreboding tingling in his limbs, and went to the door, looked through the little peephole to see who had come to visit him. 

What he saw took his breath away.  There was a girl standing in the hallway in front of her door, all alone, with a suitcase that was almost bigger than she was.  She was impossibly petite and heartbreakingly beautiful and she appeared to be waiting there just for him.  Had it been a week already?  Was this one of the women from that god awful site?  And if so, why was there only one? 

He had no idea what to do with this situation and for the first time since their fight he sorely wished that Tyler was there, but of course, there was no time to get him to the apartment before he let this girl in.  Seeing as there was no way he could just leave her standing out there in the hallway, he had no choice but to open the door, to let her in and navigate this situation as best he could.

“Yes?  Hello?”

“Hello,” she said with a voice that was accented but spoke perfect English nonetheless, “my name is Meena and this is the address I was given.  I hope very much that I am in the right place.”

Lord help him, but he couldn’t help but hope that she was, too.