The Handyman's Dream by Nick Poff Page B

minutes.
    “Good enough,” he mumbled.
    He looked at his watch again. Well, he’d used up a whole twenty minutes. Now what?
    He’d already decided to have a pizza delivered for their dinner, as Rick had mentioned he liked pizza as much as Ed did, so he didn’t have any food preparation to do. He didn’t know what they would end up doing all evening, besides eating, talking, and—he let out a big sigh—maybe repeating last night’s lovemaking in the bedroom.
    He went to his record cabinet and pulled out an album of Carly Simon’s greatest hits. Soon “Anticipation” was pouring out of the speakers. He paced around the room, wondering if Carly Simon had ever felt this nervous and excited about James Taylor. He couldn’t imagine that anyone who was cool enough to write “You’re So Vain” ever felt as dorky as he did. As Carly sang about how right it feels to have her lover’s arms around her, Ed remembered exactly how it felt the night before with Rick’s arms around him.
    He shook himself back to the present. Just look at you, he told himself sternly. It was bad enough you were channeling Gidget last night when he was kissing you, but now you’re acting like Gidget. You may be queer, but get a grip already. He laughed, a loud happy laugh. Oh, what the hell. Even if things crashed and burned with Rick, he knew he’d always remember how he felt right now. It was a grand feeling, and Ed decided to enjoy it.
    He dreamed through two sides of Carly Simon, then decided it was late enough to hit the shower. It would be his second shower of the day, but he wanted to be as fresh as possible when Rick arrived. He scrubbed himself with a worn-down bar of Dial and joyfully butchered “Anticipation.”
    Ed wiped the steam off the bathroom mirror, then carefully studied his face. What on earth did Rick see in him? The same old Ed Stephens looked back at him, and all Ed could do was shrug at himself. He didn’t know what Rick saw, but Ed was just glad Rick saw something.
    “Son of a gun,” Ed whispered to himself, switching from “Anticipation” to “You’re So Vain.” Hell, Carly could have James Taylor, and she could have Mick Jagger singing backup for her. Ed didn’t envy her. He was more than content with the idea of Rick Benton coming to see him.
    Towel around his waist, he went into his bedroom and wasted a few more minutes deciding what to wear. Rick seemed to enjoy the whole handyman thing, so Ed dressed as he usually did, relieved that Rick didn’t seem to have any more fashion sense than he did. He glanced at the clock radio. Almost five-thirty. He dressed slowly, then wandered into the kitchen to help himself to some of the Pepsi Laurie had sent home with him. How was he going to survive these last few minutes?
    He took his pop into the living room and wondered what kind of music Rick would like to hear. They seemed to have about the same tastes, but Ed wanted something special playing when Rick arrived. He flashed back to the night before and his thoughts of Chicago’s “Beginnings.” Perfect, he thought, substituting Chicago’s greatest hits for Carly’s on the turntable. He was about to place the needle on the record when he saw a burgundy car round the corner and enter his driveway. Rick! He looked at his watch, and smiled. Ten minutes early, even. Maybe Rick was anticipating the evening as much as Ed was. Ed dropped the needle carelessly on the record and hurried to the kitchen window.
    “Carly,” he muttered, watching Rick reach for something on the passenger seat. “Take your anticipation and get the hell out. He’s finally here!”
    Chapter Four

    Ed moved away from the kitchen window before Rick could see him. He didn’t think Rick needed to know just how anxious Ed was about the evening ahead. He crept back into the living room, where Chicago was playing. “Make Me Smile” was the first cut on the album side, and Ed was indeed smiling.
    He heard a polite knock on the back door. He