by JD Hawkins
“Yeah,” I say. “At the end of the day, it just means I have to wait a little longer for the schedules to sync up. And I know it’ll come together. I just…want to get it going, you know?”
“Yeah. But I’m sure it’ll pay off in the end. Maybe you can film some of your other ideas in the meantime.”
“I’m going to,” I say, nodding with determination. “For sure.”
We walk on a little further, between the shrieking kids playing in the surf and the lazy chatter from the sunbathers. Feet covered in sand now, Teo takes my hand and leads me to where the waves push and pull, so our toes sink into the wet sand, water massaging our calves beneath our rolled-up jeans.
“Oh, hey,” I say, suddenly remembering. “Are you free this Saturday?”
Teo squints at the sun as he thinks for a moment.
“Yeah. I think I am. Gotta put in a few hours at the shop, but I’ll be done by four.”
“You like barbecue, right?”
Teo spins me around to face him, his hands pushing back hair from the side of my face.
“The word alone makes me wanna bite something,” he says, playfully swooping on my neck as I try to fend him off.
“Good,” I say, wrapping my arms around his waist and looking up at him. “My sister is having a get-together at her place this weekend and I thought we could go. It’ll be fun.”
Teo’s playfulness disappears almost instantly, turning into a wincing withdrawal as he pulls away from me.
“Aah…I’m not so sure about that,” he says, reluctantly.
“What? It’s just a barbecue, Teo.”
“I know…but…”
“Come on! It’s just my sister—well, and some of my family.”
He grimaces. “Your dad?”
I shake my head and try to smile reassuringly. I understand Teo’s reservations, but this is really important to me. “No, he’s in NYC this month, helping some senator with a bill or something.”
“I never really knew your sister,” he muses.
“Right, so there’s no weird history between you. Nothing to be afraid of. It’d be a good first step for you...for us.”
“Eh…”
“She’s celebrating the third-year anniversary of being elected mayor. It’ll be fun. Food, booze,” I stroke his arm and smile mischievously, “a big house with lots of empty rooms if we wanna get away for a bit…”
Teo’s smile looks like it’s pasted on, and he rubs the back of his neck like he’s trying to remove a shackle from it.
“Politicians and all that…I wouldn’t even know what to talk about. It just doesn’t really sound like my kind of scene, Ash. I’d only draw attention to myself—and away from you having a good time with your family.”
I glare at him for a few seconds, then exhale.
“You think Mandala was my kind of scene?” I say, sounding more annoyed than I want to. “Tattoo artists and rock stars? Runaways and transplants? Where all the stories involve brushes with the law and living broke? Christ, I don’t even have a tattoo myself! You think I didn’t feel like an outsider when I first met your friends?”
“That’s different.”
“How? Because they were your friends?”
“Because they’re open-minded, they’re cool with everyone,” Teo says, then frowns a little. “I thought you liked hanging out there, with them?”
“I do—that’s the point. I gave your ‘world’ a chance, and I liked it. It made me feel closer to you. Why can’t you do the same for me?”
His jaw tightens. “I came to your work drinks, didn’t I?”
“For all of about two minutes. During which you got in a fight with my boss and probably made my relationship with her go from bad to worse.”
“It’s not my fault your boss pounced on me like a cougar in heat.”
Teo shakes his head, his hands clenching a little with the anxiety of what I’m asking him. I look away, the happy kids playing in the waves now seeming a little farther away, the waves brushing against our ankles now a little irritating.
“Is this what it’s always going to be like, Teo? You want me to keep you a secret? Hide you away from my family just like we used to?”
“Of course not.”
“Then what is it?”
Teo heaves a big breath that puffs his chest out, then shrugs a little.
“I just figured we’d spend a little more time like this, enjoying each other, before we start doing the whole ‘family’ thing. This is good, right now—why risk putting all this weight on it?”
I laugh sadly, shaking my head as I turn away, unable to look at him as he says these things.
“My mistake,” I say to the ocean. “Maybe I got a little ahead of myself—maybe I’m a little more into this than you are. I thought we were a couple. Adults in an actual relationship.”
“Ash,” Teo says, stepping in front of me and putting his hands on my arms. “How can you even say that? We’re in this. Together.”
“How can we be when all it takes is a barbecue at my sister’s for you to start pulling back? Is that how fragile all of this really is?”
“Come on, Ash. This is ridiculous. It’s no big deal. I just don’t wanna go to some dumb barbecue.”
My eyes narrow in anger, and I see in Teo’s shifting gaze that he regrets saying that.
“Dumb?”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean that.”
“Dumb,” I say, nodding.
“I shouldn’t have said it. You’ve backed me into a corner—”
“No. It’s good to know where you’re at.”
“Ash…”
“You know what this feels like, Teo?” I say, slowing down to make sure he hears me. “It feels like you making sure you don’t get in too deep. Like you’re keeping the exit doors open. You know, ever since that first night I spent at your place, I thought there was something…I don’t know, something you were holding back.”
“That’s nothing to do with you. That’s just…just another problem on my mind.”
I nod.
“Another problem you won’t tell me about. Another problem that you want to keep all boxed up in your separate little world.”
“Ash,” Teo says, moving closer now with determination, putting his hands on the sides of my face so he can look me straight in the eyes, forcing me to see the honesty in his own, “this is crazy. I’ll come. I didn’t know it meant this much to you, that’s all. I’ll come, I’ll wear a nice shirt, I’ll drink my beer out of a glass and eat my burger with a fork for you. Ok?”
I look at him and smile politely, but I wonder whether he can really brush it off so easily. It was always so simple for me and Teo to just be together, hanging out, doing things together, being intimate…but through all those years of high school I would sometimes wonder how it would be when we faced the world, actually existing in public as a couple. I’d struggle to imagine introducing Teo to my friends, my family, and having him fit in well. Too much of a loner, too comfortable playing by his own rules.
And what if he can’t?
“You know…maybe you shouldn’t…” I say, then stop myself. “Never mind.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” I say, nodding slowly. “I’m sure it’ll be great.”
But as he takes me in his arms again, I can’t help praying I’m not horribly wrong.
16
Teo
We take Ash’s car to her sister’s—partly because I don’t want to ride my bike there and partly because Ash couldn’t wear the tight, yellow dress that drives me wild. So wild that I fuck her in it twice before we finally get going—the first time ‘cause she looks so good, the second because I still don’t feel great about going.
I feel like I’m being driven to jail as the imposing white structure looms up at the end of the long road.
“There it is,” Ash says.
“I thought you said it was a house?”
“It is.”
“That’s not a house.
That’s a mansion.”
Ash laughs, then looks from the road to me.
“Relax,” she says, reaching over to squeeze my thigh. “It’s gonna be fun. Just think about barbecue. We don’t have to stay for the whole thing.”
I shrug and look back at the large entrance, intricate wrought iron gates wide open. We pass through and Ash guides the car down a driveway long and wide enough to land a small passenger jet. She stops in front and before I can open my door, the dark-suited valet has it open for me.
“Good day, sir,” he says as I get out, feeling awkward for not opening my own door, and for being called ‘sir’ for the first time in my life.
“Cheers, buddy,” I say, feeling suddenly like I’m in a movie, surrounded by people acting parts, reading from scripts.
I’m still taking in the giant mansion, as white as bedsheets, when the car spins away and Ash comes up behind me to lock her arm in mine.
“Impressive, huh?” she says.
“Yeah,” I mutter. “Does anyone actually live here?”
Ash laughs and pats my chest.
“Only my sister, her husband, their three kids, and the help.”
“The help?” I say, turning a shocked face to her.
“Yeah. The nanny, the housekeeper. A chef—though he doesn’t actually live there.”
I stare at her, waiting for her nonchalant face to break into a smile and for her to tell me it’s a joke, that she’s just playing on my preconceptions. Except she doesn’t, and I feel some part of me sink even lower.
A guy in a white suit gestures for us to walk around the building toward the back, and I struggle to find some sense of reality in the clusters of well-dressed people around us. This is nothing at all like the laid-back, casual backyard barbecues I’m used to.
The men are all stiff and upright—even the portly ones. There’s not a t-shirt in sight, and I’m glad I listened to Ash when she suggested I wear a button down shirt. They carry themselves with confidence, the arrogance of money and power. Not so much swagger, but a stiff, raised head as if looking down their noses at everything in front of them. Listening to each other’s stories with a deadness behind the eyes, a distant judgment of everything around them. The weirdest thing is how they all look the same, no matter how old or young, like the same man at different stages of his life.
The women are the only color around, and as if compensating for the blandness of the men, they seem to make themselves look larger than life. Ruffles on skirts, wide-brimmed hats, unnecessarily flashy jewelry. Dressed in lurid pinks and greens, voices articulate and assured enough to ring like crystal, flinty, forced laughs that pierce the atmosphere like sirens. Faces made up to look constantly emotive, constantly engaged, even though their eyes scrutinize everything as if it’s happening a million miles away.
“Oh my God. There’s like a million people here,” Ash gasps beside me. I just nod.
I overhear conversations filled with small talk, short and brief, as if people are exchanging headlines, name dropping people I’ve never heard of, words that mean things I don’t know, a secret code as tight and exclusive as street slang.
Unconsciously, I start to roll down my shirt-sleeves.
“What are you doing?” Ash asks, noticing.
I look down at my arm as if surprised myself.
“I’m the only guy here with tattoos…” I say.
“So? Your arms are great. You don’t have to hide.”
I shrug half-heartedly and continue to pull the sleeves down.
“I know…I just don’t want it to be the first thing people talk to me about,” I say, as if I’m even considering entering into a conversation with any of these people.
Finally, we get around the house, stepping onto a gigantic lawn that feels like it’s the size of a football field, grass as perfectly clean and deep as a fine rug. A gigantic stone fountain stands in the middle, a string quartet playing in front of it. There must be a hundred people here, mingling in tight groups, between a couple of long tables filled with food. Waiters in white gliding between them effortlessly, offering giant silver trays to guests.
One approaches us with a tray stacked with wine glasses, and we both take one. Ash smiles at me questioningly.
“Wine?”
“I’ll take whatever they’re handing out right now,” I say, downing the glass like it’s a shot of cheap vodka.
We move into the crowd, and I start thinking about switching to Plan B. Plan A was to find another schmuck who would rather be anywhere but here, another poor guy dragged here by a girlfriend or wife, and then use each other to fend off conversation with anyone else while we get hammered enough to forget the whole thing. But the more I look around me, the more I realize that everyone except me wants to be here. Plan B is to find the grill and be one of the ‘grill guys,’ watching whoever’s turn it is to flip the burgers and sausages. Grill guys don’t need to talk much. Entranced by the meat, hooked by the smell, there’s little room for thinking of anything else. It won’t last, but if I can get to the grill, it’ll be like touching base for now.
Except I don’t see it. All I see are long tables with pastries as detailed and delicate as ornaments, tiny cuts of cheese and meat, sushi and elaborately sculpted vegetables.
“Hey,” I say, getting Ash’s attention from scanning the crowd, “I thought you said this was a barbecue? Where’s the grill?”
“It’s here,” Ash says, looking around, then pointing at a plume of smoke in the distance. “Over there. Grace likes to put the grill far from the guests—you know, so they don’t end up smelling like smoke.”
I look over at the two guys in white chef hats working the grill, so far away it’d take a minute to walk there.
Shit. I didn’t come up with a Plan C.
Suddenly, there’s a scream so shrill it makes me wince, and a stunning woman in a white pantsuit comes barreling toward us like a linebacker for a tackle.
“Ash!” she shouts, arms wide.
“Grace!” Ash screams in reply, as they smash into each other happily, Grace’s wide-brimmed hat flopping about.
Her outfit has a silvery, glittering pattern all across it—to me it looks like the kind of thing a middle-eastern dictator would use for curtains, but then again, this whole place feels like another planet to me.
“I’m so glad you came!” Grace says.
They pull apart, and suddenly Ash’s older sister turns her beaming, political smile to me, offering her hand.
“And you must be…”
Her eyes go straight to my neck, where my fire tattoo is.
“Teo,” I say.
“Teo,” she repeats, looking thoughtful. “Such an odd name…but it sounds sort of familiar.”
Ash glances from me to her, then quickly says, “We went to school together.”
“Oh, I see,” Grace says. “Well, I’m eight years older than my sister, so forgive me if I don’t exactly remember you.”
“It’s fine,” I say, trying my own version of a political smile.
“So what do you do?” Grace asks.
I open my mouth, but stop myself before saying ‘tattoo artist,’ seeing a whole load of awkwardness, of stupid questions, of uncomfortable smiles ahead that way.
“I own a business,” I say, then quickly add, in my best impression of the other clowns here, “Congratulations on three years. Very impressive.”
“Well thank you,” Grace says, satisfied enough to turn back to Ash. “How long have you two been…”
“A few weeks,” Ash says, after glancing at me.
“Well, it’s good to see you out with somebody for once,” Grace says. “Nice to meet you, Teo.”
“And you.”
“I’ve got some great news, Ash,” she goes on, beaming.
“Yeah?”
“Daddy’s here!”
The words drop like an anvil, making me freeze.
“Really?” Ash says, her smile faltering. “That’s…a surprise.”
&nb
sp; Grace nods.
“Apparently the bill got pushed back, so he took an early flight home this morning. Come on,” Grace says, stepping away already. “You can introduce your new ‘Teo.’”
Ash looks at me, half a step away already.
“Um,” I say, pointing in the other direction toward the buffet table, “I’d like to get something to eat first, before we start mingling and…you know. I didn’t eat all morning so…”
“Oh,” Grace says, looking both disappointed and confused. “Sure. Well, we’re over here, by the fountain. Just come over when you’re ready.”
I nod. “We will.”
I move toward the buffet, mind racing, chastising myself for the stupidity of even coming here in the first place.
“Teo…Teo,” Ash hisses beside me, as she struggles to catch up. “Is something wrong?”
I stop to grab another wine glass from a passing waiter and look at her.
“It’s nothing. I’m fine,” I say, wishing I could sound a little more convincing than I do. “I just want to ease in, you know? A little more slowly.”
Ash gazes up at me, searching my face for clues.
“You could have just said hello to my dad first. Gotten it out of the way? He doesn’t bite. And I’ll be right by your side. I know we didn’t plan it this way, but…”
I sigh a little and try to keep myself from downing the wine in one gulp again.
“Look, why don’t you go ahead. I’ll just hang back for a few,” I say. “Take all of this in a little. I’ll find you, don’t worry.”
“Teo…I’m not going to go off on my own. We’re here together. I’m not going to just abandon you.”
Another waiter passes, this one with glasses of gin, and I down the wine to quickly grab one.
“Look,” she says, “I know this is a little more…fancy than you expected, probably.”
“Fancy? I feel like I just stumbled into a period drama.”
She looks at me with bemused, almost pleading eyes, and I realize I’m stuck. “An hour, maybe two max, is that too much to ask?”
I nod.
“I can manage that. It’s just, I thought it would be your sister, her family…you know, informal. Now I’m suddenly meeting your dad? I didn’t think I was biting off this much.”
