Tiny Imperfections

by Alli Frank

  “And you ‘like, like’ me?” I interrupt. “Are we in eighth grade and you’re about to hand me a note asking me to mark yes or no if I like you back?”

  “Well, we are currently standing in a school. And while the note thing is not a half bad idea, what I want to know is: Did you hear me say I’m not gay? Yes or no?”

  “I don’t understand. You’re not gay. But I never once caught you checking me out.”

  “Oh, trust me, I was checking you out, even in those ratty sweats you were sporting when I came over for the house call. Maybe you just weren’t paying attention, you know, since you thought I was gay and all. Do you really think I have time to make house calls to every single one of my patients? I made a house call to get to see you.”

  “Are you sure you aren’t confusing needing a beard with liking me? ’Cause if you need one I’m already spoken for. Roan and I have mad gay man–straight woman love.”

  Ty shakes his head no. “I look terrible with a beard.”

  “So, you’re talking man-woman um, like? The opposite of what you and Daniel got going on.” I need to get myself really clear on what he’s sayin’.

  “Yes . . . I’m talking man-woman like. Glad to know you’ve heard of it.”

  “So then, are you bi? Cis? Pan? Trans? Fluid? What have I forgotten that you can possibly be that might explain the past six months? Wait, does Daniel know I’m the reason your family is breaking up?” I don’t know what universe I’m existing in because it sure isn’t the one called my reality that I left back at the apartment a few hours ago.

  “Nope, none of those. I’m just your average, boring, old-school, straight, heterosexual white guy. Except I can dance. I’m actually a really good dancer by anyone’s standards. That’s what I’ve wanted to tell you all night.”

  “You’ve wanted to tell me you’re a good dancer?”

  “No. I want you to know that I’m crazy attracted to you and I’m done lying about it. C’mon, Josie, is this really so hard to believe? I swear I’ve caught you checking me out.” He’s got me there, but I’m not admitting it. My brain can’t digest the information enough to construct a coherent response to Ty’s confession. This is hands down the most bizarre professional encounter I’ve ever had with a potential parent, actually any parent. This is beyond more than I can handle for one night, and more than I’ve ever had to deal with in one admissions season. At a loss for words I start to wander off, bombarded by my own thoughts, but Ty pulls me back in.

  “Josie, hear me out.” Ty waves his hand inches from my face to wake me into reality, well, this altered reality. He does it with the efficiency of a doctor who has performed this exact move a hundred times on patients in shock. Still, my mind is having trouble focusing, flipping from Nan and Meredith, to the scholarship, then the threat, to Aunt Viv and Etta, to Ty. And why can’t I find Lola?

  “Josie, focus, please. I can explain.” Golden Boy picks up my hands hanging limp at my sides. His palms feel familiar. Ty has touched me before and my body remembers: at lunch overlooking the Bay; in Aunt Viv’s hospital room; and, of course, my mini breakdown during his house call. All those times I convinced myself it was an act of professional courtesy—his and mine. The truth is settling in and it’s starting to feel good. “Caroline is my sister, and Daniel is her husband, my brother-in-law. Well, first he was my best friend in college, then my brother-in-law. Gracie is their kid, my niece, and I would do absolutely anything for her. Are you following me?”

  “Uh-huh.” I’m listening—after thirteen years in admissions I really thought I had heard it all, but I guess there’s always room for something new.

  “Caroline desperately wants Gracie to go to Fairchild, more than anything in the world, and she is a force like none other. I mean, she was a force not to be messed with before she had kids, but now that she’s a mom there’s no obstacle she can’t figure out how to go over, around, or under to get what she wants for Gracie. It’s impressive and terrifying at the same time. And she helped me pay for medical school, so I kinda owe her.” Ty pauses for a breath and makes eye contact with me to make sure I’m tracking. Dang. He’s a good doctor and a good brother. I’ve wanted to find someone like Ty, thoughtful and kind, whose humor is as sharp as mine. Who knew all this time it could be Golden Boy bringing my sexy back.

  “Caroline knows that their hurdle to getting Gracie into Fairchild is that they are an average, middle-class, hetero white family—well, they are if you subtract Caroline’s world-class cunning and Daniel’s exceptional lying. I was surprised by our acting chops, but more surprised to find you.”

  Thinking back, Ty’s texts were flirty for a doctor checking in on his patient. If he wasn’t so deliciously good-looking and, at the time, gay, I would probably have considered the texts hugely inappropriate, particularly when he could have called Aunt Viv directly. Or maybe I wouldn’t have because that’s how desperate I am for a bit of male attention, fake gay or not. I guess it’s possible Golden Boy was slyly checking me out while stuffing his face with Aunt Viv’s coffee cake. How’d I miss all that?

  “Anyway, my sister’s a recruiter for Salesforce, Daniel’s an accountant, and they live in a town house they rent in Jordan Park. You can write their life script from there. Their chances of getting Gracie into a snooty private school are slim. Sorry, but it’s true. I mean, look at this party; a lot of these people, they’re not normal. Follow me on rounds at the hospital, I’ll show you everyday people.” I consider telling Ty he’s not wrong, that many of these people, if not all, strive to be anything but normal. “There’s nothing exotic, special, diverse, or, frankly, terribly interesting about Caroline and Daniel. They’re loving parents who want the best for their kid, just like everyone else. So that’s where I came in—as the gay husband.” A pained expression flashes across Ty’s face, hopeful for some recognition that I’m following the story he’s laying down.

  “Daniel does look like an accountant. That’s the first thing that rings completely true since you started talking.”

  “I know, right? Such a numbers nerd!”

  “Not the point. Keep going.”

  “Well, since they can’t build Fairchild a new gym, Caroline thought if Daniel and I posed as a gay couple the chances of Gracie getting into the school would be higher.”

  Maybe. But this story better have a good ending. “Go on.” My mind still needs convincing, but below the neck I’m hopping on board.

  “Daniel is my family. Has been since we met over beer pong sophomore year in college, and Gracie won my heart the minute I held her for the first time in the hospital. But, man, I didn’t realize how much time this whole private school application thing takes—it’s like a second job. I thought I’d have to sign a few documents, show up a time or two, and be done.” The look I throw him says, You don’t know nothin’ about raising a kid in the city.

  “I’m sure my colleagues at the hospital think I’m having some kind of illicit affair because I keep leaving for two hours here and there for tours, visit dates, parent interviews—and no one knows what I’m doing or where I’m going. The plan was working pretty well. You believed us. I was a little worried about Roan. We hadn’t planned on a gay guy to sniff us out, but, hell, we even fooled him!” Ty’s momentary look of triumph is followed swiftly by one of remorse.

  “But it turned out Roan wasn’t our Achilles’ heel; it was that I was attracted to you.” Ty runs his index finger from my bare shoulder across my collarbone, stopping at the neckline of my dress. “That I am attracted to you. Like in the I can’t stop thinking about you morning, noon, and night sort of way.” His eyes implore me to forgive him, to give some indication that I feel the same. “I kept wanting to ask you out to coffee or dinner or something, but Caroline begged me to wait until after the acceptance letters come out. I’ve been counting down the weeks. I thought I could keep my feelings under control for Gracie’s sake, I really did, but th
en you show up in that dress and those heels and what’s a straight guy supposed to do?” His touch is winning me over, but I’m not ready to surrender. I want him to work for it a little bit longer.

  “Am I going to ignore my chance to be with a stunning woman who consumes my every thought just for a coveted seat in a fancy kindergarten? I mean, I was going to have to keep up this ruse for the long haul. That’s why I’m throwing my niece under the bus now, hoping there may be a shot that perhaps you can get over this whole lying thing and let me ask you out on a date. Not an interview. Not a doctor’s visit. Not a house call. A real date.” Finally, a pause and a moment of quiet. I didn’t realize Ty was such a talker.

  Now I have questions. “So, when you were ‘gay’ you didn’t notice my fabulous outfit at your parent interview, but now that you’re straight you love my dress and shoes?”

  “I love how the dress accentuates what’s underneath. I couldn’t give a shit about the shoes.” His eyes leisurely roam my body, taking it all in for the first time as a straight man. Or at least a straight man to me.

  “That’s such a guy’s answer,” I deadpan; humor my go-to whenever I feel vulnerable.

  “I know. I’ve had a lifetime of practice.” Ty’s hands move up my arms to cradle my face in his palms. He uses his strength to pull me in for a kiss. Butterflies trapped since Obama’s second inauguration are set free as I roll onto the tips of my toes, reach for his shoulders to steady myself, and fall into the smooth hold of Golden Boy’s lips. If his kiss could talk, it would say, Now that I’ve got you, I know I want more. If my body could talk, it would say, FIN-A-LLY.

  “Ouch!” Golden Boy pulls back from what had quickly become a deep, delicious kiss and touches his lower lip. “What’d you bite me for?”

  “That’s for lying to me the last six months,” I say. “This is for coming clean.” I take hold of Golden Boy by the belt buckle and whisper, “Let’s do that again.” I allow my heart to admit that kissing Ty had crossed my mind. Damn, I think I like, like him, too.

  We come up for air, but Ty doesn’t release me. It’s as if he’s keeping me from averting my eyes from his sincerity and his moment of truth. “So, now what do you think?”

  “I think I wanna know what your mama’s gonna say about you dating a black girl.”

  “There’s only one way for us to find out.”

  “Hey, guys, what’s up?” The look on Lola’s face tells me she knows something I don’t. Oh, how wrong she is. Standing shoulder to shoulder, Ty holds my hand, our intertwined fingers hidden in the folds of my dress. I’m caught between wanting to dish with Lola and never wanting this moment to end.

  “Where’ve you been?!” I can’t help barking at Lola for abandoning me in the midst of this catastrophic, but revelatory, evening. “I have some big news that’s going to blow your mind,” I tell Lola, tightening my grip on Ty’s hand so he can’t skulk away. He gets to explain this one to my best friend because she will definitely think I made this story up.

  “Yeah, I got somethin’ to tell you, too. You go first,” Lola says, acting like her tea is hotter than mine. How wrong she is.

  “Well, you’ll need a cocktail to hear my headline.” It’s like our first meeting at Zumba all over again, sniffing the competition, trying to one-up each other. “Ty’s not gay. And he likes me. Like, LIKE likes me,” I emphasize, in case she’s not picking up what I’m putting down.

  Lola gives us the one eyebrow raise but doesn’t break stride.

  “And you accidentally e-mailed that video of Nan out to the whole invite list for Aunt Viv’s party. Instead of selecting ‘Lola Valencia,’ you selected ‘Viva la Viv.’ So now Nan, your boss, and Fairchild families past, present, and a few future, think you sent out a video of Nan puttin’ you on blast.” My jaw drops. “Giiiiiiiiiiiiirl, hold on tight because it’s about to go down.”

  TWENTY-SIX

  Needing immediate space after hearing Lola’s breaking news, I leave Ty with a smooch and a whisper in his ear to text me and step outside for some fresh air. On the one hand, the result of my trigger finger could end up on the front page of Sunday’s Chronicle as the most recent exposé of the rich and richer—something I don’t want for the Fairchild community. On the other hand, Nan brought this on herself showing her true colors by behaving so badly. Despite Nan’s actions, Fairchild is family and I’d never do anything to intentionally harm the school. I can’t believe I’m going to have to deal with this fallout during our family’s mini-vacation and Etta’s audition. Bottom line, I’m pissed at Nan for comin’ for me.

  I bundle up my Bordelon bookends and order an Uber XL. As we pull away from Fairchild, Aunt Viv yawns, showing every molar and filling in her mouth. The night’s excitement is catching up with her, telling me she’s gonna blink out the minute her head hits her Posturepedic. As much as I want to let the night’s celebration settle into Aunt Viv’s bones, I know I won’t be able to sleep if I don’t tell my squad about Ty. The three of us bust up laughing when I tell them he has it bad for me. When Aunt Viv asks how I know, I recount the details, including the toe-curling kiss. Etta can’t stop howling, but eventually is able to eke out that he seems great, and maybe a white daddy wouldn’t be so bad. Then the giggles start all over again. Aunt Viv rests her hand on my leg, leans her head back on the seat, and declares, “Well, ain’t that somethin’. A good doctor and good taste in women.”

  “There’s something else, too.” Since we’re stuck in evening traffic a few blocks from home, I figure now is as good a time as any to show them the video I mistakenly sent out to the entire party invite list. The car is silent listening to Nan spew her drunken venom.

  “Mama, we can turn around right now and snap that skinny stick in two.” Etta is on fire, her teenage night owl energy kicking in as the rest of the family is winding down.

  “Thanks for the offer, love. I know you got my back. But our family has had enough drama for one night.” I give Etta a kiss on the cheek and open the car door as our Uber arrives in front of our building. “I think it’s best if we all focus on getting a good night’s sleep. We have a big day of travel tomorrow.”

  I follow Aunt Viv to her room to say good night. I know there’s no way nothing’s going to be said before she turns out the lights.

  “You learn the truth about a person when they been drinkin’,” Aunt Viv claims, sitting on her bed rubbing her feet after too many hours in heels. “And what I learned tonight is what I was suspectin’ all along. Nan Gooding is only out for herself. She don’t really care if you black, brown, red, yellow, or white. Don’t try to make a mark in her territory.”

  I move to her side to help as Aunt Viv works to unclasp her necklace. “I feel sorry for her. Only carin’ ’bout yourself is a lonely place to live. I’ve been caring for Fairchild children for fifty years, you for thirty-five, and Etta for fourteen, and I ain’t ever been lonely. And you know what? I ain’t ever been unhappy, neither. Oooh, child,” she whoops. “This was a wonderful night. I’m glad you made me go. I’ve always been proud of you and proud of Etta, but it never crossed my mind to feel proud of myself. Tonight, I do.” With a kiss good night planted firmly on my cheek, Aunt Viv waves me off to bed.

  “G’night, Aunt Viv.” As I’m about to close my bedroom door, Aunt Viv’s voice floats through the apartment with one last comment for the evening. I’m not surprised, that woman likes to have the last word. “Josie, you best be givin’ that good doctor a chance. You know, you ain’t been shakin’ them sheets in a while.”

  “You might be right, Aunt Viv.” I’ve been leading life with my head these last few years, but maybe it’s time I start paying attention to my heart, too.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  FROM: Yu Yan (Helen) Wu

  DATE: March 3, 2019

  SUBJECT: Liu family

  TO: Josephine Bordelon

  Dear Josie,

  Mr. Liu has decided h
is children will continue enrollment at Shanghai American School. The school has had over 40 graduates go to Harvard in the last ten years and he prefers clear numbers to Fairchild’s limited evidence. I hope Fairchild will take the Liu decision as an opportunity to better gather Ivy League acceptance statistics and market to prospective parents more aggressively. Mr. Liu will retain the property next to the school for an investment, but it is no longer available to rent for Fairchild. If the school would like to consider a sale, he is amiable to a cash offer.

  Thank you,

  Yu Yan (Helen) Wu

  EDUCATION CONSULTANT

  ADMIT INTERNATIONAL, HONG KONG

  Other than Helen Wu, my inbox is mysteriously empty given the video debacle. Thank goodness because Lola and I have been blowin’ it up over text all morning breaking down this video thing. I had to keep her from marching down to lodge a complaint at the NAACP at 7:00 a.m. on a Sunday. I’m choosing to view the e-mail silence as a lukewarm sign over the fate of my job, and will do my best to leave the drama in San Francisco to focus on Etta once we hit the airport.

  I couldn’t sleep last night between Nanageddon and thinking about Ty as a straight man, maybe my man and not Daniel’s husband. It hasn’t even been sixteen hours since the big reveal and already I’m acting like a fifteen-year-old girl staring at my phone wondering when he’s going to text. If he’s going to text. If indeed last night was legit or if he woke up this morning and realized it was the booze talking. He better not be waiting for me to make the next move.

  Etta and Aunt Viv flank me as we wait at SFO to board our plane to JFK. Aunt Viv tells me that if I’m sittin’ next to her on the plane I have to put my damn phone away, she ain’t no stranger takin’ up a seat next to me. This is a family trip and we’re gonna spend our time with each other, whether we laughin’, cryin’, or doin’ something someplace in between.