by Mells, J. C.
“What’s up, Lake?” I finally said once I’d located it.
The sound of loud music in the background made it impossible to decipher what she was trying to say.
“I can’t hear you, Lake,” I said, raising my voice to try and make myself heard over the noise coming from her end. She’d evidently caught a second wind after we’d dropped her off.
Knowing Lake like I did, it was probably her third or fourth wind.
She must have gone into another room, as I heard the sound of a door closing and the loud music now sounded muffled.
“Can you hear me now, Cali?” Lake slurred, as I heard the chink of ice rolling around in a glass.
“Yeah, loud and clear.”
“We need to celebrate your homecoming, girlfriend! Dad’s heading to New York tonight. Pack your bags – we’re going with him! There’s a new club opening up tomorrow night and you and me are so going to be there! I’m picking you up in twenty.”
I took a deep breath… again.
“No, Lake. I’m not going.”
There was a pause on her end as her befuddled mind tried to digest this information.
“What do you mean, no?” I’d never said ‘no’ to Lake before. Except for that last trip to Vegas.
“I mean ‘no’. I just got home and I don’t want to go to New York.”
Lake gave a loud laugh. “Very funny, Cali. The sooner we wash that rehab stink off you and get you back into the game, the better. I’ll be there in twenty.” Lake hung up the phone.
I sat on the edge of my bed, my legs feeling a little shaky all of a sudden. I’d only been out two minutes and I was already in danger of being sucked back into the lifestyle I knew I had to get free of.
I also knew my weaknesses, too. Letting Lake talk me into things I didn’t want to do was up there in the top three of that list.
Then, it hit me.
I needed to leave.
I needed to pack a bag and just leave. Get in my car and drive away and just not be here when Lake arrived.
There was a small knock against my open bedroom door, and I looked up to see Rose standing just outside it. She was a short, dark-haired woman in her late forties. Chubby and rosy-cheeked, her name suited her to perfection.
“Welcome home, Cali,” she smiled as she stepped into the room.
“Oh, Rosey,” I said as I got up to hug her. “It’s so good to see you.”
“What’s the matter, my love? You’re shaking like a leaf.”
“I have to leave. I have to leave like right now.”
“But why? You only just got home,” Rose countered with concern etched across her face.
“Lake is coming over and wants me to go to New York with her. She won’t take no for an answer – you know how she is.”
Rose pursed her lips together in disapproval. It was her usual look when Lake was the subject of a conversation.
“Indeed, I do know,” she replied as she made her way over to the walk-in closet and threw open the doors. “Call down to George and have him bring your car out front. Tell him to move the bags you took to the Institute with you into it. We’ll need to add some stuff, though. I’ll help you get packed.”
Fifteen minutes later, I was following signs for the Interstate-15. I had no idea where I was going, but I felt free and empowered – like I was finally taking a step to extricate myself from the toxicity that is my family. My Audi S5 convertible wove through traffic and, with the wind in my hair and Los Angeles at my back, I felt like I could do anything – go anywhere.
I merged onto the I-15 and saw my first sign for Las Vegas.
At the back of my head, I think I’d always known that that was where I was headed.
It might’ve been only a one-night-stand but, over the last three months. Thatch Reston was all I could seem to think about. I couldn’t get the man out of my head.
Where else would I go except Vegas?
***
When the desert sun became too hot for me, I put up the soft-top on my convertible and switched on the A.C.
“Call Bernie,” I said to my E. P. A. – my Electronic Personal Assistant.
“Calling Bernie,” the automated voice responded.
Bernie was my father’s long-time, and extremely gay, personal assistant. I spoke to him more than I did my dad.
“California Huntington! Why has it taken you this long to call me, girlfriend? Didn’t you get out at eight o’clock this morning?”
“Lake came to sign me out,” I laughed.
“Say no more. How are you? How are you feeling? And, where the hell are you going? You sound like you’re in a car.”
“I’m fine, Bernie. Everything’s fine. I’m heading to Vegas right now.”
“Vegas! What the fuck are you going there for? Are you sure….”
“Calm down, Bernice. It’s not what you think.” My heart warmed at the fact that someone in my immediate family actually cared about what I was doing and where I was going. Bernie was as much a part of my immediate family as anyone else.
“It’d better not be what I think, because I’m thinking about a lot of things right now. Please tell me Lake isn’t with you.”
“No, no. I’m actually getting away from her before she leads me back into bad habits again.”
“Why Vegas, Cali-girl? What you got going on in Vegas?”
“I have a sort of acquaintance there I want to look in on. Think of it as sort of part of my twelve steps. I need to make some amends.” I hoped he wouldn’t ask me more. But, who was I kidding? This was Bernie.
“Has this got something to do with that tattoo artist… Thatch something?”
“How the hell do you know about him?” I asked in shock.
“Cali-girl, haven’t I always told you nothing happens that I don’t hear about… eventually.” Bernie snickered.
“What exactly have you heard, Bern?”
“I heard that he called your house a couple of months ago, looking for you. He spoke to Tallulah.”
My heart skipped a beat at the news he had called me. Then, it sunk low in my chest at the realization that he’d spoken to my stepmonster.
“Tallulah called me straight afterwards,” Bernie continued. “She recognized his name from Max and the whole tattoo-cover-up conspiracy. Don’t tell her I said this, but it was about fucking time Max got that monstrosity taken off his arm. She wanted to know everything about the tattoo guy and why it was he was calling for you. She was furious when she found out Max had passed on your number to him.”
“What did you tell her?”
“I couldn’t tell what I didn’t know. All I said was that it was possible you two had met when he came to do Max’s tattoo. I know you were in Vegas with him that weekend. I can tell you now… she was not a happy camper. She had one sandy vagina over the thought of you mixing it up with a tattoo artist.”
I giggled over his description of Tallulah, but then sobered up as I had a sudden thought.
“She had you look into him, didn’t she?”
“She sure did. I haven’t sent her the entire file yet. I wanted to speak to you first, honey. I can’t not do my job, but I feel better telling you first before I do it. Is there something going on between you and the hot, young tattoo artist that I need to know about?”
“Yes…and then a big, fat no. We met and really hit it off. Then Lake happened and we had a fight and he left. Not that it’s all Lake’s fault, mind you. He was an ass and I was a bitch and all I want to do is go say I’m sorry and move on with my life. Did you see he competed in the Ultimate Ninja Athlete competition?”
“Are you kidding me? I live for that show. Well-toned hotties climbing over cargo-nets and swinging from ropes? It’s like crack for the eyes. He made it through the next round, you know.”
“He did?” I couldn’t help smiling.
“Yeah, it’ll be televised tomorrow night, but the Regional Finals actually happen a few weeks after the qualifying round in real time. So, he would
’ve competed in the Dallas Regional Finals last month. The Vegas Finals are in a few weeks.”
“That’s awesome, Bernie. I’m so happy for him.”
“You want to know anything else about him? I have some interesting stuff about his time in New York.”
“Anything bad? I mean… I want to know, but at the same time I don’t want to know. If it’s too personal I’d want to hear it from him and not from you, no offense.”
“No, I get it. Just bear in mind Tallulah will have all this info by the end of the week. I’d hate to think of her knowing more about him than you do. It’s pretty obvious you like the guy.”
“All right, hit me with some easy-to-find stuff. Things I would’ve been able to find out on my own had I not just spent the last three months locked up in rehab.” This invasion of his privacy didn’t sit too well with me but, then again, I’d never confessed to being a good girl, had I?
“I don’t have all the particulars here, but the long and short of it is, he got a girl pregnant at sixteen. Her parents are a couple of religious wackos that basically threw her out of their house and their life. The girl ended up moving in with your guy and his mom. Just over two years later, the mother, girlfriend, and baby were in a car accident. The baby was the only survivor.”
“Oh my God, Bernie, that’s awful!” My heart bled for Thatch and his little boy.
“Yeah, he’s not had an easy time of it. At nineteen, he and the kid came to Vegas to live with his estranged father.”
We didn’t say anything for a few moments as I took all this in.
“So how long is this… apology… going to take, Cali-girl?”
“I’m not sure, Bernie. I don’t think I want to head home until dad gets back. You guys are in Spain right now?”
“Yes. We’re going to be delayed, thanks to this OCD director, so you can expect us back in about three weeks. Are you still planning on leaving the nest?”
“The nest of vipers?” I laughed. “Yes, I am.”
“Well, it looks like I’m going to have to set you up in Vegas for the next few weeks then. How does that sound?”
“Sounds wonderful. Nothing too fancy though. I’m not up for staying in a five-star hotel or anything. And no bodyguards either, Bernie.”
“Are you sure? I can send you just one. He or she would be very discreet.”
“No. I’m going to be staying completely off the radar and out of the limelight while I’m there. I don’t need any personal security.”
“All right, all right. Give me an hour, darling, and I’ll make sure you’re all set. How long before you get there?”
“I’m about two hours away.”
“Perfect. Speak to you in a few, my lovely.”
“Later, Bernie… and thanks.”
{5}
Cali
It was just before six when I pulled up in front of the ranch-style home several blocks northwest of the Strip. Apparently, this was an up-and-coming, gay-friendly neighborhood where one of Bernie’s closest friends kept a vacation home. This friend, Eric, was delighted to loan me the house for the next few weeks – or as long as I needed it. He was a photographer currently working in Paris and didn’t know when he’d be back. He also had a state-of-the-art security system that had propelled Bernie to approach him in the first place. As I refused a bodyguard, knowing I was in a safe house was his main concern. Bernie texted me all the codes.
As instructed, I picked up the spare keys from the neighbors Zak and Tony, a cute, married gay couple in their late thirties, who welcomed me to the neighborhood and gave me detailed instructions on what plants needed watering and when. If they knew who I was, they didn’t say anything. I’m sure Bernie briefed and vetted them before I arrived.
The house was very mid-century modernist, with gorgeous artsy, black and white photos of near-naked men on just about every wall. Taken by the owner of the house, no doubt. Out back there was a small pool and enclosed paved patio area. After that drive, hitting rush hour traffic on the way into the city, a swim in the pool was exactly what I needed.
Dragging my freshly packed suitcase, as well as the carry-on bag I had with me at rehab, I made my way to the bedroom.
Holy gay bachelor sex pad! I am talking heart-shaped bed, more near-naked-men pictures – with some full-frontal nudes thrown in for good measure – and a mirror on the ceiling. Actually, mirrors everywhere. The entire room was decorated in reds and deep purples, with silver accents. It looked like a modern and chic - yet seedy - room in a club. I looked up and, yep, there was even a disco ball hanging from the ceiling.
I laughed out loud before snapping a couple of pics with my phone and forwarding them to Bernie. I sent a text message to accompany the photos.
Me: Thanks for the pad. Can’t wait to put this room to good use!
His response came back a few minutes later.
Bernie: Don’t laugh, but I’ve actually been… entertained… in that room.
Me: Ewww! Now I’m grossed out. Should I be washing all the sheets before I use them?
Bernie: Do you even know how to use a washing machine, girlfriend?
Me: Good point, smartass.
The walk-in closet was half empty, which was strange for a gay man, but then again, his main home was in L. A. and he only vacationed here. I threw my bags inside, planning to unpack them later.
The downstairs living area was open-plan, with large patio doors off the dining room area that opened out onto the pool. The surrounding wall was high and there were a lot of potted plants and trees – the neighbors hadn’t been kidding. I checked to see what kind of vantage point they had of the patio area and from what I could see they had none. This was good because I’m pretty damn sure that in our rush, neither Rose nor I had thought to pack a bathing suit.
I stripped down to my bra and panties and dove straight in. The water was absolutely glorious. It felt so damn good that I thought, fuck it, and removed all my underwear, too – throwing it off to join the rest of my clothes now lying in a heap on the ground.
“Yoo hoo! Anyone home?” A sing-songy voice came from behind the gate at the side of the house.
The gate that was now being opened.
“It’s just me, Zak from next door,” the voice continued as Zak himself walked through it and onto the patio next to the pool.
“Sorry to interrupt you, Cali,” he continued, “but I heard the splashing and Tony and I wanted to invite you—and… oh my God, you’re naked, aren’t you?”
The look of absolute horror on his face knocked any embarrassment I might have felt at the situation right out of me. I started giggling and, as his face got redder, I began to full on laugh.
“I’m so sorry, Zak,” I finally spluttered as I tried to keep my shoulders below water level. “I don’t have a bathing suit and the water looked just so damn good.”
“No, it’s me that should be apologizing, Cali,” he said shamefacedly. “I normally would completely respect your privacy, but I know you’ve had a long drive and I also know there isn’t a speck of food in this house. We’re going to be grilling out back in about an hour and we wondered if you might want to stop by for a bite to eat?”
Two months ago eating in front of strangers would be a big no-no. It was just something I never did. But, I was a new person today.
“I’d love to join you guys. I’ve barely eaten all day and that’s really bad.” One of the things I learned at the Recovery Center was to be open and honest with friends about my food issues. I wasn’t quite ready to test the waters with such a new acquaintance, but I’d just taken a tiny baby step in the right direction.
“What can I bring?” I added. “Or rather, seeing as you know the inside of this house better than I do, what does Eric have here that he won’t miss and I can bring?”
Zak laughed and then cupped the side of his mouth to fake-whisper to me conspiratorially. “He has a very well-stocked wine cellar down in the basement, and Tony is rather partial to a nice Cab Sauv.”
“You got it,” I said with a wink. “See you in about an hour then?”
“Perfect. See ya then!”
***
At seven-thirty, I was sitting in Zak and Tony’s backyard where they had a built-in barbeque all fired up and good to go. Tony, the more, shall we say, manly one of the pair, was grilling hot-dogs and steaks with the help of their six-year-old daughter, Hayley.
“Our surrogate mother for Hayles is a dear friend, who lives in New York now,” Zak said noticing where I was looking. “She’s an African-American and Italian mix, if you’re wondering about Hayley’s ethnicity. Tony was the donor. He and I have been together for fifteen years.”
“She’s beautiful, Zak,” I said with a smile. It was Hayley that answered the door when I arrived and had led me out back to join her daddies. “How long have you and Tony lived in Vegas?”
“Tony was born and raised here – big Italian family – although he swears there are no ties between them and the ‘Families’,” Zak added using air quotes. “I’m not so sure though,” he laughed. “His Uncle Augustine is very suspect.”
“My uncle is not a Mafioso,” Tony said with a sigh. “Ignore everything Zak tells you. He has a mission to make everything seem much more exciting than it actually is,” he added affectionately as he came over with a large platter of meats and put it on the table next to the coleslaw, potato salad, and mixed green salad.
“Daddy, can I take my hot dog inside and eat in front of the T.V.?” Hayley asked him.
“Just tonight, pumpkin, and only because we have company. Tomorrow we’re back to the usual setup, okay?”
“Yes, don’t get used to it, Hayley,” Zak added, in a failed attempt to sound stern.
“Thank you daddies,” the little girl said as she scurried inside and out of the evening heat.
“Is it too hot for you out here, Cali?” Tony asked. “We can move to the dining room, if you prefer.”
“Oh, I’m fine. I can take another swim later to cool off,” I said waggling my eyebrows in Zak’s direction.
