Neither of them could pronounce the name, so they always called it “the Indian Place,” as if there was only one in the city. It took some time for him to find a parking spot, but once he did, Jack sat for a long moment, looking at his reflection in the rearview mirror. He wasn’t really seeing himself, though. He stared back into his own blue eyes and saw the past forty-nine years there. He looked at his mistakes, his triumphs, his sorrows, and his joys. He thought about the closet he’d lived in, the reasons for it, the relief he felt when he finally said the words “I’m gay” to another living soul. He thought about the guilt too. He’d carried it around with him for so long, so many decades, that he actually felt lighter now he’d shed its weight. Who knew emotional baggage could be measured in pounds? Jack still wasn’t looking forward to a blind date, but he was feeling better about himself and his life in general when he got out of the car. Mindy had texted him twice asking where he was.
