“How about the loser pays for the last two rounds?” the older man suggested.
“That sounds fair,” Mark replied, thinking that wouldn’t be much more than the original bet.
They hadn’t gotten too far into the final match before Mark’s remark about people playing better with something at stake proved true. Moves took even longer, with more concentrated deliberation between them. Somewhere around midpoint, Mark noticed that the new drinks had barely been touched, such was the intensity of their focus. Finally there were only a few pieces left on the board and, as Mark studied them, he had to admit that there was no chance of him winning. He could delay the outcome, but not change it.
“The game is yours,” he said, tipping over his king.
Pleased with himself, Don smiled.
“Having someone as good as you to play against was almost worth the price of losing,” Mark offered as, pulling out his wallet, he dropped a couple of bills on the tray the drinks had come on, telling the waitress to keep the change when she came over to pick it up. “I’ve missed playing more than I realized. Plus the company was pretty good too.”
“You know, we could forget the bet and just split the bill,” Don suggested.
“Nah, a bet’s a bet,” Mark replied.
“I’d offer to go another round and give you a chance to win some of it back,” Don said after a brief consideration, “but I really need to head down to the basement and check on how that temp repair I made is holding up. Also, having skipped lunch, my stomach is reminding me I need to grab something to eat.”
For a moment, Mark thought, given how well they were getting along, that Don might ask him to have dinner with him. But that moment passed as the older man shifted his attention to packing up his chess kit. He briefly considered asking him, but knew that, even before paying off the bet, that would’ve been more than his wallet could handle.
“Well, it was really nice meeting you, Mark,” Don said as he extended his hand. “I enjoyed both the game and conversation.”
“I feel the same way,” Mark replied as he reached out as well.
After shaking hands, Don turned to leave, but then paused after only taking a few steps.
“You know, Mark, I was just thinking,” he said as he turned back and retraced his steps. “I should be back in my room by seven o’clock. If you happen to find yourself still here around that time, why don’t you stop by? I’ve had enough of chess for the day, but I’m sure we could find another way to keep ourselves entertained.”
Mark wasn’t sure what to say, but he doubted that another board game was what the older man had in mind.
“No pressure, of course, I just want you to know the option is there if you’re interested,” Don continued. “Oh, and it’s room 114 by the way.”
With that, he again turned and walked away.
-=-=-=-
Since he hadn’t had lunch either, Mark also decided to get something to eat. Only, in his case, he elected to go to the fried chicken place across the street rather than the hotel’s dining room. He could only imagine Teresa’s reaction if he submitted a bill for that, no matter how much she wanted to fuck him. As he ate, his mind kept going back and forth about the things he’d told Don and what the older man had replied in turn.
It was clear to him now that Don hadn’t asked him to dinner in order to give him time and space to consider his offer — and considering it he was. Clayton Springs was five times the distance from home that the bar in the Bronx had been, and a private room was certainly better than a dingy bathroom. The question of whether this was something he really wanted to do, regardless of how many times he might have fantasized about it, was one he just couldn’t make up his mind about. Part of him said yes, but part also said he still wasn’t sure. He thought it significant, however, that there wasn’t a part of him that said — absolutely not.
By the time he’d finished his early dinner and walked back to the motel down the road, Mark had made up his mind to not make up his mind. Instead, he was going to just go with the flow and see where it led him. After all, if he had a chance of heart, he could simply turn around and leave — right?
Despite the motel’s limited amenities, Mark was able to take a long hot shower, followed by a close shave and a change of clothes. All he’d brought with him were fresh underwear and a second t-shirt, but at least he wasn’t still wearing what he’d worn on the long drive upstate.
-=-=-=-
The cheap digital watch on his wrist, his biggest indulgence since getting the job at Amalgamated, displayed seven twenty-two as Mark stood outside the door to room 114. It had said seven fifteen when he’d first arrived and had slowly advanced while he tried to come up with the nerve to knock. He finally found it, rapping his knuckles against the hard wood three times.
When no response came after what he thought was a reasonable wait, he knocked again, wondering if perhaps Don had gotten tied up with the air conditioning equipment. A thought, he admitted to himself, that brought some disappointment.
Mark was about to leave when he heard the sound of a security chain on the other side of the door being undone. Then the door swung open, revealing Don standing there wearing a short robe. Attire that, along with the wetness of his hair, showed that he had just gotten out of the shower.
“I thought that maybe I’d scared you off,” Don said in reference to Mark being almost a half hour late.
“No, not yet at least,” Mark quipped as he stepped into the room.
“Well, you’re here now, that’s what matters,” Don said as he closed the door behind Mark.
“When I didn’t get any answer,” Mark shared as Don turned back around to face him. “I figured that you’d gotten tied up with the air conditionings.”
“I almost did,” Don said as he gestured for Mark to have a seat on the edge of the bed. “That jury-rigging I did is still iffy at best. I wouldn’t be surprised if it crapped out before that replacement part gets here.”
“Shouldn’t you be down there watching it then?” Mark asked.
“Wouldn’t make a bit of difference if I was,” Don responded. “It’ll either last, or it won’t. If it’s the latter, they’ll page me.
“But the part is coming tomorrow, right?”
“Supposedly, it’s already on the way,” Don answered. “In fact, I put in a call to the distribution center just before dinner to confirm it. I’m just waiting for a call back from the shipping manager.”
“Then maybe I should come back later…” Mark started to say, thinking that a phone call in the middle of…whatever… might be awkward.
“No need for that,” Don insisted. “He promised to get back to me by seven-thirty, so he should be calling any minute.”
As he listened, Mark found himself staring at Don’s attire, or more accurately, his lack of it. A loosely tied belt left the top open enough to reveal a hairy, well developed chest, while short sleeves and a garment length that barely extended to his knees displayed arms and legs just as impressive.
“Would you like a drink while we wait?” Don asked.
“No, I’m good,” Mark replied, thinking that the beers earlier had been enough. He wanted to stay clear headed.