Little Squirrels Can Climb Tall Trees by Michael Murphy (namjoon book recommendations txt) 📕

“Thanks, Squirrel.”

“Of course.” I sat down beside Kyle with my own glass of iced tea and asked a simple question. “You ready to talk yet or not?” There was no judgment, simply concern and willingness to listen when the time was right.

“Not much to say, really. It played out better than I thought it would at first, but then she struck while my guard was down.” Kyle looked at me and said, “I had decided to tell her, and just then she said she wanted to go back to her hotel. And I lost my moment.”

I raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“Yeah. I was gonna do it—tell her that her son is gay and loves his boyfriend’s dick up his ass.”

“You might want to hold off on that second part until maybe your second or third conversation.”

“Fair enough. You know that I’m too much of a chickenshit to ever say that to her anyway.”

“True.”

“Hey! You didn’t have to agree so fast!”

“Babe, no boy wants to have that conversation with his mother.”

“That’s better. Why the iced tea?” he asked.

“You like tea.”

Kyle smiled his supernova smile that lit up a room and said, “I like you too.”

“Good thing.”

We sat quietly for a few minutes, watched the eleven o’clock news, and then called it a night since both of us had to work in the morning. Kyle’s shift at the ER began at the usual 7:00 a.m., so he desperately needed his sleep. We were both asleep in a surprisingly short amount of time.

Chapter 16

OKAY, now you have to understand—I was not present for the next part. Still, I feel I can tell the story because I’ve heard it many times from several people who were present. All of them agree pretty much right down the line, so I’m pretty confident that I’m telling it just as it happened.

The next day was another busy one in the ER, which was just as well because it kept Kyle busy and kept him from thinking about—no, dreading—his upcoming evening with his mother. When seven o’clock came around, he changed into his suit and caught a cab across town to his mother’s hotel. In the cab he gave me a quick phone call and found his anxious nerves calmed by simply talking to me for a few minutes—I have that effect on men.

In the lobby he asked directions, hoping that it wouldn’t be too hard to sort out which ballroom to go to for this dinner. It turned out not to be a problem since there was only one event scheduled in the hotel for that evening. As he walked into the ballroom, his mother was almost immediately at his side, and she guided him to the table where she had grabbed some seats with some women she knew.

Like proud mothers since the beginning of time, she introduced her son the doctor to all of her friends. For the most part, Kyle didn’t know the women she introduced and didn’t spend a lot of time anguishing over which name went with which face, since he hoped never to see any of them again after that night. Not that he had anything personally against any of them, but he knew that it was unlikely that he and they would have much in common and that they wouldn’t have much to talk about if they ever met again.

At one point his mother was especially eager for him to meet a young woman. He was a bit confused at first as to why his mother was spending so much time introducing him in this case, and then it dawned on him: Oh, shit! She’s trying to fix me up!

Kyle wanted nothing more than a hunky waiter to walk by so he could grab the man, bend him back, and lay a killer kiss on his lips. Alas, no waiter, especially not a hunky one. If he had wanted a short, heavyset Latina woman, he would have been all set, but that wouldn’t work—now or ever.

Regardless of the circumstance and the fact that he was seething inside at himself for not picking up on things sooner and at his mother for trying to do this in the first place, Kyle was a gentleman. He was polite while quiet.

Fortunately for everyone, the lights were flashed at that moment, indicating it was time for everyone to take their seats for dinner. Kyle escorted his mother to her seat and took the seat next to her, letting everyone else fend for themselves.

They were all able to focus on the hubbub that ensued with hotel staff trying to serve so many people food in one place at the same time. Kyle had seen the dance many times—too many times, actually—at medical conferences in and around the Harvard area during his time in medical school, so none of the activity surprised him. His mother and the other women, however, were new to the experience and were all studying the activity intently. Kyle was silently delighted that it gave him a few minutes to try to calm himself and refocus his energy on getting through the experience.

Another distraction came when their salads were delivered. The hotel had done a fairly decent job of jazzing up the simple ingredients. Everyone at the table admired the handiwork, and several asked one another if they knew what particular ingredients were.

The salad course seemed interminable, but Kyle did his best to sit quietly and listen to others babble about meaningless bullshit that meant nothing to him. He had no idea who they were talking about and couldn’t have cared less about who was knocked up or whose cow had won what blue ribbon at what showing.

Finally the salad plates were removed and dinner was served. As they finished eating, the lights of the ballroom dimmed, and everyone looked to the stage at the front of the room. Kyle had no idea who was going to talk or what they were going to talk about, and he