“You’re exhausted,” I said as we walked through a cluttered mess of cubicles and offices.
He lifted a shoulder, the smudges under his eyes more noticeable in the bad fluorescent lighting. “I’ll just be a minute. I’d give you a tour of the office, but all we have is piles of paper and bad carpeting.”
He wasn’t lying.
I thought my small office in the economics building was a blast from the past, but this made my office-in-a-box seem sleek and modern in comparison.
The entire space looked like it hadn’t been renovated since the seventies. Clearly a place where people were too busy to think about décor.
It was not how I’d envisioned where Easton spent his days.
I’m not sure why I thought that someone who worked for the county would have an office that looked like a Wall Street law firm, but that’s what I’d imagined. Now, walking into his small and cluttered office, painted in a very non-pleasing bright blue, the reality of who Easton Archer was hit me. He had opted into this. Knowing the family he came from, I was almost certain there was an empty office somewhere decorated in sleek leather, hardwood and chrome he could’ve claimed. That he walked away from, to do this.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Easton’s puzzled tone snapped me back from my errant thoughts.
“Like what?” I asked, perfectly aware that I’d been staring.
“Like you’re trying to crack a code,” he said as he got his coat on. His brow furrowed at whatever face I’d been pulling.
“Not a code. I was trying to figure you out.”
“Me?” he asked, as if I’d said something terrifying.
“Yes. You.” I lifted my shoulders as I leaned on the wall waiting for him, and decided to say something that I’d needed to say for a long time. “I was just thinking that you’re sort of an outlier. The more I know, the more I like you. Which is generally not the case.”
“Well thank goodness for that,” he joked, and stepped up to me and smoothly closed the door to his office. His eyes looked tired, but that ever-present playfulness was there. When he leaned in to kiss me he ran his hand behind my neck. I sighed into his mouth, tongues caressing, a reconnection after a long day.
When he pulled back he seemed normal again.
My sunny man.
“I needed that.” He sounded like he’d just taken a bite of the most decadent dessert. “Now let’s go to this fundraiser.”
He looked a little hesitant when he said it, and that surprised me. “You don’t want to go?”
He sighed as we made our way to the elevator, then turned to me, speaking quietly. “Of course I want to be there. I wouldn’t let Nesto down.” His gaze dipped and when he looked up he had the unhappy expression that appeared anytime a particular subject came up.
“Are you parents going to be there?”
He lifted a shoulder in response and we moved to get into the elevator. “I’m not sure, I haven’t talked to them, but my sister will be there. She heads all the philanthropic efforts for the winery, so they may not come. But OuNYe’s is the new hot place in town and knowing them, I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re there.”
I was expecting to feel freaked out or uneasy about meeting Easton’s parents, but as we waved at the bailiffs who greeted Easton as if he were their favorite person that feeling of protectiveness took over again. I grabbed his hand as we walked onto the rainy sidewalk and hurried along the two blocks to Nesto’s restaurant. The temperatures had risen since the snowstorm the week before, but the rain still felt like ice on my skin.
Easton didn’t say anything but tightened his hand around mine. “You’re so quiet tonight.”
He looked at me and I could see again just how tired he was. “It’s not because of my parents. I’m always like this after we wrap up a trial. I sort of run through everything in my head a dozen times, trying to figure out where we fucked up. It’s how I keep my expectations in check. I need to be prepared for disappointment because I have to face the families after and I can’t go to them feeling like the outcome came out of nowhere.”
“I get that, I hope that jury does right by her.”
After a second Easton lifted his head and glanced up at me. “How are things at work? Are things still good?”
I nodded, glad to see the restaurant was near. “Yeah.” The meeting with the dean had gone a lot better than I’d thought. He’d basically called me in to ask if I wanted to be involved in a task force looking at implicit bias in the faculty, which I did not expect. “Task force thing is moving surprisingly fast.”
“Good,” Easton said, as we arrived.
Nesto, as expected, had drawn a crowd. I knew Jude and his best friend Carmen had been helping him with the planning and the place looked great. The usual crowd of college students and young professionals that frequented OuNYe had been replaced by very wealthy-looking and older people. As we walked in, I once again took a moment to look around my friend’s restaurant. The place was lit by vintage lamps hanging from the high ceilings. On the red walls were enormous aerial photos of the islands Nesto, Camilo, Juanpa and I came from. I glanced over at the gigantic photo of one of my favorite places in Haiti, the old fort on the northern tip of the island called Cap Haitien.
I was still bowled over by what Nesto had done and how he was honoring all our roots with this place. Nesto had built all this with his hard work and being tenacious. Like he always said, we really were our ancestor’s wildest dreams.
Easton let go of my hand as he took his own look around and pointed his chin in the direction where Nesto had placed a coat checker. We spotted my best friend too, and as soon as he saw us, he grabbed Jude’s hand and made a beeline toward us, a big grin on his face.
He came in close to give me dap as Jude smiled at us, waiting for his turn to say hello. Nesto gave Easton a pat on the shoulder and angled his head in the direction of the courthouse. “I heard you kicked ass in court today. Cindy’s around here somewhere, she came in buzzing about how she’s going to make you run for DA.” Easton groaned as Nesto and Jude both grinned.
“If you’re not up for it, you better let Cindy know now, Easton, because she looked like she was going to make the official announcement,” Jude said with humor. “I feel your pain too. Cindy’s like an older version of Carmen, pushy and selectively hard of hearing when people don’t want to do what she says.” Jude’s commiserative tone pulled a smile out of Easton, who lifted a shoulder before answering.
“I’ve been handling Cindy since I was fifteen. The key is waiting her out,” Easton said with a grin, but the way he looked, I knew he wasn’t amused about Cindy talking about it publicly. Before I could ask, Nesto pointed the drink he was holding toward me.
“You haven’t met Cindy yet, P?” he asked with a glint in his eye that made me think that was probably a good thing.
“Not yet,” I said as I bumped Easton’s shoulder. “But I’ve heard a lot about her.”
“I’m not even going to ask if any of it was good, because I know how this demon likes to slander me.” The voice came from somewhere behind me, and when I turned around I saw a tall and slender middle-aged woman with a crew cut and no-nonsense pantsuit giving me an impish smile. She extended a hand to me at the same time that she put her arm around Easton’s shoulders.
“You must be the man that’s brought my best prosecutor to distraction. Cindy Grey.” I almost laughed at Easton’s pained groan and extended my hand to her, unsure of how to respond.
“Patrice Denis.”
Cindy rolled her eyes at Jude and Nesto, who were standing there looking incredibly entertained. “Oh, I know who you are. Believe me,” she said, giving Easton, who was beet red, some side eye.
Easton exhaled and looked at her with an equal mixture of fondness and frustration. “Cindy, why?” I actually cracked a smile at his exasperation. “Also, what are you doing out, aren’t
you supposed to be resting?”
That got him another look of fond exasperation. “I’m here with Lorraine. We wanted to stop by, and support this wonderful event,” she said as Nesto preened. “We’re heading out soon.”
She leaned in closer to me, as if to share a secret, but when she spoke everyone could hear her. “I don’t know what you’ve been doing lately, but keep it up. This one’s practically skipping into the office these days. I might actually get him to agree to run for DA.”
This elicited another groan from Easton and a laugh from the rest of us. “I’ll try.”
Before she could embarrass Easton any more she waved goodbye and walked off toward the door where a short woman with white curly hair was waiting for her.
Jude shook his head and smiled, watching them leave the restaurant. “She’s playing hardball with the DA thing, Easton. She might wear you down.”
I looked over to see his reaction and noticed he seemed uneasy. I wasn’t sure if it was about Cindy, the DA thing or about his parents. “She’s been on me about it for weeks.” He lifted a shoulder then and gave me a look I was not entirely sure I understood. “We’ll see.”
When we’d talked about it weeks ago he didn’t seem very into the idea and the way he was still looking at Cindy made me think he still felt the same way. I wondered if he hadn’t talked more about it with me because he thought I’d be put off by it. If I was honest, I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. Thankfully, before I could go down a rabbit hole of worry over something I had no control over, Nesto spoke up.
“P, did you talk to Ari today?” Nesto’s face had the concerned parent look he got anytime we discussed Ari.
I shook my head as I glanced around the room, trying to spot my mentee. “No, I left early for campus and didn’t see him.” I wasn’t going to say that I’d stayed at Easton’s for the fourth night in six days, and that I didn’t even make it to my place this morning.
“That’s cool, man,” Nesto said. “No big, he’s just staying with Jude and me this weekend. Last weekend at the Farmer’s Market for the season and he wants to be close to the kitchen since he’s in charge of the truck now.” Nesto always talked about Ari like a proud dad.
I nodded and looked at Easton, who still seemed a bit flustered from Cindy’s teasing. “Sounds good, man.”
Nesto angled his head in the direction of the kitchen. “I gotta go check on the food.” He turned to Jude then. “Baby, can you go take one last look around to see that everything’s set to go for the silent action?”
Jude nodded and pushed up to give Nesto a kiss on the mouth. “Sure.” Those two had been together for almost two years, and still could barely stand to go for a few minutes without touching. I turned to look at Easton and tried not to read too much into the wistful expression on his face.
“Thanks for coming, brother,” Nesto said, pulling me in for dap.
“Like you would let my ass stay home,” I grumbled.
He laughed as he clapped his palm against Easton’s. “True. Easton, you know you’re in your house, man.”
Jude waved at us too as he and his man walked off.
Easton and I stood there in a corner of the crowded restaurant, too close to not be together, but not close enough that people would label us as a couple offhand like they would with Jude and Nesto. Those two could be on opposite sides of the room and you could see they were a unit. It was like they had an invisible thread that tied them together.
I thought about how it would be to get there with Easton. It’s not as if I didn’t feel that drawn to him. The issue was letting it show. To let the whole world know he was mine. I wasn’t exactly surprised to notice that between reluctance and yearning to have that, the latter feeling won out.
“You’re certainly deep in thought.” Easton’s voice was curious and when I glanced at him I found him looking at me as if he knew what I’d been thinking.
“Nah, just taking everything in.” He didn’t look very convinced about my answer.
I was about to deviate the subject to Cindy’s comment about him running for DA when I saw Easton’s eyes widen and then heard him groan as an older couple headed in our direction. The woman had platinum-blond hair coiffed to perfection. She was dressed expensively, almost but not quite too formal for the occasion, and was very petite. I’d recognize those green eyes anywhere though. Easton took after his father, because the man walking toward us could’ve been my lover in thirty years.
Easton’s entire demeanor changed by the time they reached us. His mother spoke first, as she leaned in to air kiss him hello. “We weren’t sure you’d make it, darling.”
“We thought you’d have to stay late at that place with everything you seem to have going on this week.” That was his dad, voice heavy with disapproval. I assumed he was talking about the trial Easton had been killing himself over for months now, but from his tone you’d think he was running heroin up and down the Eastern corridor. He just bent down and kissed his mother’s cheek, then responded in a jovial tone.
“I was able to slip away,” he informed his father, who’d been giving me a long look. “Father.”
“And who’s this?” Easton’s eyes widened when his father asked the question and then turned his head so he was fully facing me. When Easton turned around, his expression was completely blank, like he barely could recall who I was. I had yet to see that expression on his face. I was sure that for him to do his job he’d probably learned to master not showing his emotions, but he’d never done that with me. From the first moment I’d met him I’d always been able to see exactly how he felt about me. Now, with his eyes seeming to go right through me, it was like a gut punch.
Before he spoke, he moved so that there was some distance between us. He extended a hand toward me and kept his eyes on his parents. “This is Dr. Denis, he’s one of the new faculty at the Cornell economics department. He’s also best friends with Ernesto, OuNYe’s owner.” He blankly glanced at me for a second before speaking. “These are my parents, Anne and Easton Archer Jr.”
I shook their hands, still not sure what was going on with Easton. I knew things with his parents were strained, but he seemed to have morphed into a different person. It was like he could barely stand to look at me.
I was about to excuse myself when Anne spoke, her tone pleasant while her eyes did a very thorough assessment of me. “Dr. Denis, how are you finding our little town? Must be a shift from urban life.” Her tone was pleasant enough, but urban life? What the fuck was that supposed to mean?
My back almost went up at that, but years in the Ivy League meant I’d had many a run-in with Anne Archer types, nice ladies who had a very interesting idea of how a black man got to be in places where they didn’t “usually belong.” Easton, on the other hand, seemed to get tenser with every word exchanged.
“It’s Patrice, and Ithaca has been fine so far, ma’am. Thank you for asking.” Again I kept my tone polite. Odette had not raised me to be anything other than painfully polite to women like Anne. Not a word, not a look, not a hair out of place.
Easton Archer Jr. spoke next, and he didn’t bother to pretend he was doing anything other than sizing me up. “Where are you from, Dr. Denis?”
I wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted to hear, but I was not in the mood to make people comfortable today. “I’m Haitian, sir. I came to the US with my mother when I was young.” I turned my eyes to see what Easton was doing and he looked like he was going to be sick.
Did he think I was going to embarrass him or something?
I gave myself and internal nudge, to finish answering Easton dad’s question. “We came seeking asylum in ’91 when I was about six years old. I’m fortunate I came at a time when refugees were still welcome.”
I got two variations of those kinds of smiles people give you when they’re not really sure what you are, while Easton made a sound like he was in pain.
Easton’s mom gave him another look and it seemed like she was finally putting two and two together, and the way her face changed told me she wasn’t really happy with the information. “Your parents must be really proud of you.” She said it in a way that made it clear she was not feeling the same way about her own offspring.
Easton’s dad jumped in then, to continue the Twenty Questions game. He eyed me up and down before speaking. “It must’ve been quite a change for you to come to the US.”
I nodded at his comment and tried to come up with something to say, feeling like wherever this conversation was going was not a place I wanted to be. “Well I’ve lived here most of my life,” I said, working very hard not to roll my eyes. “It is different, better in many ways, but I missed Haiti, I still do. We left a lot behind.”
“Oh?”
I almost laughed at the surprised expression on both their faces when I said that. Like the fact that I would miss my homeland was completely crazy.
Easton started fidgeting then. “I’m sure Dr. Denis has other people to talk to.”
Like I was going to leave him alone with these two.
“I’m not in a rush. Everyone will be here for a while,” I said, noticing Easton did not seem relieved at all by my response, but before I could process his reaction, his mom took another turn.
“Well, but look at you now. Having achieved so much. I’m sure it’s nice to be able to help your family with all your education.” She sounded genuinely glad for me when she said it, but there was something in the way she talked to me, like she could not quite figure out how I was here.
“Well, like I said, it’s just me and my mother here, and she was an amazing role model. I had a lot to look up to at home.”
“No father in the picture, then.” This was Easton’s dad. I’d always thought the expression “doing a double take” was a figure of speech, but my head actually swiveled.
Anne made a sound almost like a protest, but didn’t call her husband on his rude fucking comment.
At least it got Easton to finally look at me like he knew who I was. He seemed like he was about to say something to his father, but I didn’t let him speak. I was perfectly capable of dealing with this particular type of bullshit.
American Love Story (Dreamers) Page 21
