Second Chances in New Port Stephen - Chapter 21

[adminnovelsaudio]

Listen Audiobook Version:



Second Chances in New Port Stephen - Chapter 21

After everyone had eaten their fill, they started the long process of cleaning up. Tian-yi excused
himself to the garage with the teetering stack of leftovers in their mismatched containers—
there was a bonus fridge out there with enough space for everything. Nick started washing the
dishes, and without even being asked, Eli got into position next to him at the sink with a towel
at the ready, drying what Nick rinsed clean.
They worked in companionable silence for the time it took to wash two platters and a pair of
chopsticks before Nick spoke up. “You could have told my dad about being unemployed, you
know. He wouldn’t have thought any less of you.” That, he thought with wry fondness, was
reserved for Nick himself.
Eli made an uncertain noise while he dried a serving spoon. “I didn’t want to make it a whole
thing. Sometimes it’s easier to let people think what they want instead of explaining every
detail.”
Nick wondered if that applied to being trans, too, but he held his tongue, instead saying, “So no
news on your friend’s show?”

-- 104 of 228 --

“Nothing yet. Like I said, I really don’t want to pin my hopes on that.” He stacked a dry plate
atop the others on the counter. “I might have to go back to stand-up after all.”
Nick soaped up his dad’s grill pan. “That would be cool, right? I mean, you’re really good at it.”
“How would you know?” Eli demanded.
“I watched some clips of you.” Nick tried to look as calm as possible while scrubbing a pan. “Not
because—I mean, when you mentioned your old stuff, I got curious.” He hoped that didn’t
sound too stalker-ish.
“You liked my old stuff?” Eli stared at him like he was actually Santa Claus, come to bestow
Christmas cheer and traverse rooftops. “Seriously?”
“Sure. Those impressions you did of your parents?” His shoulders shook a little with laughter as
he remembered. “That was great.”
“Thank you,” Eli said, quiet and subdued, like he wasn’t sure how to take the compliment. He
took the now-gleaming pan from Nick, their fingers brushing. “I—” He cleared his throat loudly.
“I really need some new material, though. I’m not sure where it would even come from.”
Nick hummed in thought. “I noticed you didn’t do any jokes about being trans,” he said in a
leading sort of way.
Eli made his own feelings clear with an incredulous raise of his brows. “Not sure I want to go
digging in the deep well of my trauma for laughs, to be honest.”
“I get it. No one likes being pigeonholed,” Nick said.
“It’s not even that, really.” Eli took a pair of tongs from Nick’s nerveless fingers; Nick hadn’t even
noticed he’d washed them. “It would be different if I was performing for other trans people. But
I’m supposed to be as palatable as possible to ticket buyers, right? I can’t ignore who I’m talking
to. And they’re not people like me, for the most part.”
“I’m not trans,” Nick pointed out. “You don’t seem to mind performing for me.”
Eli didn’t even protest that his antics were a performance at times; he looked at Nick again with
soft eyes. “But I know you,” he said. “I know you’re safe.”
“Oh.” Nick felt a frisson of pride work through his chest. “Thanks.”
Eli was not done, apparently. “But this is my art, right? This is where I’m supposed to pour out
all the good stuff. The whole damn spectacle.” He placed some dried utensils in the caddy on
the shelf, exactly where they belonged. Like he remembered where Nick’s parents kept
everything. “No one expects white cishets with hour specials to share anything more traumatic

-- 105 of 228 --

than their worst blind dates. They get to have fun. I’ve got to carve my heart out and put it on a
platter? Fuck that. We can’t all write Nanette, okay?”
Nick squinted at him. “Who’s Nanette?”
“Oh my god.” Eli put his drying cloth down and looked as pained as if someone had told him
Publix had run out of deli sandwiches. “Please, I’m begging you: seek out queer media.”