A continuing story of love and lust in Chicago, the city of big shoulders and abs of steel.

“Hope you don’t mind me barging in, but I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Adelle Frish from right next door,” says the smiling blonde after she releases her new neighbor from her tight embrace.

I’m Seth Robinson,” he replies.

And I’m Roger Hardy.”

Oh, you big silly, I know you-nothing but trouble he is-so you better watch your back with him,” she warns Seth while shaking a bright red fingernail at the other man, who nods his head in agreement and adds:
“And your front.”

This remark sends the woman into brief hysterics as she slaps Roger’s arm: “Stop it, you’re terrible. Oh, I like this lamp.”

After admiring the funky ’70s light fixture inherited from Seth’s mother, Adelle collapses into an overstuffed paisley print armchair and asks: “So tell me, what in God’s name made you move to Chicago in February? You just couldn’t wait ’til spring?”

Adam-my partner-he got offered a terrific new job so-here we are.”

That’s wonderful, dear, and what does Adam do for a living?”

He works in advertising.”Oh, very nice. So where is this magnificent man of yours?”

“He’s upstairs-trying out our new shower.”

“All alone?”

“Oh, Adelle, now who’s being terrible?” Roger reprimands her.

“I’m sorry, darlin’, I just couldn’t resist. Now, Seth, I noticed you chatting with our Miss Havisham out front earlier.”

“Who?”

“Edna Ice-whom I’ve always thought would make a great Dickens character.”
“Be nice,” says Mr. Hardy with a smile.

“Oh please, we both know the woman’s a living nightmare! And ever since her beloved White Sox went in the toilet last season, she’s been simply unbearable! I told her a thousand times, ‘Welcome to my world.’ The Cubbies have been floating in the commode since 1945-and even then they didn’t win. But this year is their year! I can feel it in my bones! Are you a Cubs fan?”

“No, sorry,” Seth hesitantly admits.

“Please, God, tell me you’re not a Sox fan.”

“Oh no, I’m just not much into baseball.”

Mrs. Frish appears to be greatly relieved: “That’s okay, sweetie. Nobody’s perfect.”

“Adelle’s a Hillary fan as well,” Roger reveals-although this is fairly obvious from her coat, which is covered with buttons in support of Senator Clinton-and her husband: “Miss Bill? Vote Hill!”, “Bill Clinton For First Dude!”, “Bill Clinton for First Laddie” (in an attractive Scottish plaid), “Kittens for Clinton Meow for Change in 2008″ and “Give’em Hell Hillary”.

“Yes, I’m proud to say I am-us girls have to stick together. And what about you boys? I noticed an Obama sign in your window, mister,” she tells Mr. Hardy in the disapproving tone of a teacher he never liked.

“That’s Doug’s. I’m still undecided.”

“Well, as long as they’re aren’t any Republicans in the room.” Mrs. Frish now casts her eyes upon Fosse Avenue’s newest resident. “Please, God, tell me you’re not.”

Before he can reply, Seth is saved by the doorbell, and he quickly goes to greet his new visitor-a beautiful brunette, who hands him a plate of heart-shaped sugar cookies with red and pink frosting.

“Welcome to the neighborhood-and Happy Valentine’s Day,” she says with a big smile. “I’m Tippi Henshaw from two doors down.”

Minutes later as everyone is devouring her sweets, Roger gives his stamp of approval: “Scrumptious as always, Tip.”

“They’re delicious,” Seth agrees.

“Just call her Donna Reed,” quips Adelle, who bets the woman is wearing an apron under her expensive fur coat.

“I just wanted to welcome our new neighbors to our wonderful street and hope they enjoy living here as much as we have,” Mrs. Henshaw tells Seth, who then says, “Thank you. I’m sure we’ll be very happy here”, before he realizes that his audience is no longer captivated by his every word. They’re all staring over his shoulder at the stairs, where a vision of wet hunkiness in a white bathrobe now stands.

“Adam, come meet our neighbors,” he calls to his gorgeous lover, who gives everyone a mouthful of his dazzling pearly whites as he enters the room and grips each of their hands in a strong yet gentle manner that would make even the most hardhearted of souls melt into a puddle of buttery love (which is how Seth has always described his partner’s potent charisma that very few are able to resist).
The doorbell now rings again-startling all of them out of their obvious adoration of the attractive attributes of Adam McTavish-and Seth finds a cute young boy on his doorstep.

“Is my mom here?” he inquires before a concerned Tippi appears to ask: “Billy? What’s wrong?”

“It’s Cookie. She’s locked herself in the bathroom again.”

“Your sister’s a girl, honey, deal with it,” says Adelle as she helps herself to another cookie.

“Hi, I’m Adam,” the sexy stranger then introduces himself to the youngest Henshaw-age seventeen-who experiences an emotional jolt of overwhelming desire when their fingers touch for the very first time.

And as the love-struck boy swoons into the muscular arms of Mr. McTavish, his mother-who believes his frequent fainting spells are related to his sudden growth spurt over the past few months-bites into one of her own marvelous cookies and smiles and tries not to think about the importance of making a good first impression.

To be continued . . .

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Marc Harshbarger lives in Chicago with his partner and two spoiled cats, Shubert and Mr. Grant. His first novel, Deep Dish, was published last year. He is currently a staff writer for Q Netwerk and can be contacted at m.harshbarger@q-netwerk.com. You can find out more about Marc at m.harshbarger@q-netwerk.com. You can find out more about Marc at www.myspace.com/deepdishdrama.

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