Acrobat

by Mary Calmes

  My heart hurt for him.

  He leaned in, gently pressing his forehead to mine. “Michael and I will have to spend the holidays with you, Nate; we will have nowhere else to go.”

  I leaned into him, arms around his neck, squeezing tight. “Wherever I am, you’re welcome. I want you both with me.”

  His face was pressed to the side of my neck, and his arms around me were like iron bands as he held me.

  “My father is different,” I heard Sal say as I held the man who was becoming more and more important to me with every passing minute that I spent with him. “Salvatore Polo Sr. believes that once you’re family, that never changes.”

  “Meaning what?” Michael asked as Dreo and I parted.

  “You’re all welcome at my house,” he told us. “My parents don’t give a crap, and when I told them I was out because you were—” Sal chuckled. “—my mother said you were always her favorite.”

  “She’s such a liar.” Dreo laughed softly, taking my hand, unable, it seemed, to keep from touching me.

  “You got her son out of a job she hated,” Sal told him. “You are golden in my house, Dreo Fiore.”

  And Dreo liked hearing that if the smile was any indication.

  Normally, the trip from downtown Chicago out to Hillside would have taken a half an hour or less, depending on traffic, but the procession of cars was long, and so the trip dragged into an hour. Queen of Heaven cemetery was huge, with a mausoleum as well, and in the cold and damp, the wind whipping around and the dark-gray overcast sky, it was a very fitting day for a burial. I had been to other Italian funerals in my life, and normally, they were open casket for viewing and people kissed the deceased on the forehead. But Sal had told me there was not much left of Vincent Romelli to bury, let alone view.

  Michael and I finally parked and got out, and as we were walking, I heard my name called. I saw Alla Strada, then, with her partner Jennifer St. James, and diverted toward them. Jen had a big hug and kiss for me and immediately asked if I had seen Alla smoking lately.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said, and Alla smacked my arm, after which Jen smacked her and made her promise to stop cold turkey… again.

  She rolled her eyes but agreed.

  “He’s a narc,” Michael told both the women. “But you gotta figure that,” he said pointedly to Alla. “He’s a parent, ya know.”

  She shrugged like she had forgotten that, put an arm around Michael’s shoulders, and walked with him as Jen and I followed, arm in arm.

  The graveside ceremony took longer than the church service. Michael and I were standing, and after a while, he moved so he was beside me instead of between Alla and Jen. When his head clunked down on my shoulder, I understood that however hard he was trying to hold up, this was slowly killing him. I put an arm around him and held him tight.

  Dreo was in the first standing row behind the family who were all seated, and when we had walked up, I saw Mrs. Romelli holding onto his hand for dear life. No matter what Joseph felt now, it was obvious that both Dreo and Sal had been very close to his father and mother.

  People again went up and spoke, a string quartet played, and the priest gave the final blessing before he concluded. Everyone then followed Mrs. Romelli and her daughters and her son as they placed roses on the casket. I had never seen so many enormous wreaths, each more stunning than the last. Everyone filed passed the Romellis, and since I didn’t think it was a good idea for me and Michael, I stayed in the back and didn’t move.

  “What are you doing?” Alla asked me when she saw we weren’t following her and Jen.

  “I don’t want to cause anyone any—”

  “Oh for crissakes, Nate,” she sniped, grabbing my arm and pulling me forward.

  The daughters were all kind and shook my hand and Michael’s, but when we reached Joseph, he wouldn’t touch either of us.

  “Joe?” Mrs. Romelli was watching him; her raw red-rimmed eyes were puffy and watering.

  “I told you Dreo was leaving, and Sal, and this is why—I told you why.”

  Her eyes were back on me and then Michael, and then she reached for me, was in my arms, holding me tight. “So good to see you again, Nate. Please take care of Dreo. Love him hard. He saved my son, he nearly died trying to save my husband…. He’s a good boy, the best boy… per piacere.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said, hugging her, rubbing circles on her back. “I’ll take good care of him.”

  She leaned back, nodding, and Michael was suddenly there, hugging her, telling her how sorry he was. He told her he knew how she felt, as he too understood the loss of a loved one. Michael said that it would be hard, but that every day it would get a little better. He promised her.

  Mrs. Romelli grabbed him back and was sobbing, her daughters looking at Michael like he was the most beautiful thing on the planet. Two of them took my hands and held them, and the third told me how much they all loved Dreo. They went on to say that I should not be a stranger and neither should Dreo or Michael. They expected to see us at the house.

  My eyes flicked to Joseph, and I could see the fury as well as the resignation. In the tide of acceptance and love that was the women in his family, he was drowned. Looking over at Dreo, I saw his gentle smile and warm brown-black eyes. The way he was looking at me, proudly, possessively… I felt my chest tighten just seeing it. We really needed to talk.

  THE drive to the house in La Grange took forever, but there was no way we couldn’t go. We were expected, and our absence would have been noted. Alla and Jen left her parents’ car to ride with Michael and me, and the company was nice. I caught Alla up on my brunch date with Sanderson the following day, and she asked if I was doing penance from God.

  “The man’s a pig,” she told me.

  “Is that the one who hit on you at that faculty mixer?” Jen asked.

  She nodded fast. “Yeah, even after I told him I was not only in a relationship but gay as well.”

  Jen chuckled. “Gonna go with ‘wow’ there.”

  “You should have seen the shit fit he threw over Nate being in charge of the Medieval Feast this year.”

  “But now he’s in charge,” I told her.

  “That’s not what I heard.”

  “May I say that you all are a bunch of big geeks?” Jen snickered.

  “But we dress up like fictional characters,” I told her. “And it’s super fun.”

  “Oh, we do not,” Alla laughed. “Don’t make it any worse than it already is.”

  “But we will at my Yule Ball, and you’re both invited.”

  They looked at me, so frightened that I was telling the truth. I nodded to let them know that I was.

  As I drove, I checked on Michael in the rearview mirror. He had given up the passenger seat to Alla, insisting that she sit up front with me.

  “I’m fine,” he told me when he noticed my regard. “I’m just tired. I don’t know why.”

  “Funerals are exhausting, that’s why,” Jen told him, patting his knee. “I need a nap too.”

  The Romelli house was a mansion, complete with a long circular drive that still couldn’t hold all the cars. We had to park a block away. I was surprised to see the same news trucks, the same gaggle of reporters, and the same squad cars that had been constant for the entire day. It would have been nice for Mr. Romelli’s family to be given some semblance of privacy, but it was not to be.

  Once we passed the end of the drive, it was private property, and no reporters or police could pass. It grew quiet as crowds of people trailed over the cobblestones toward the front door. There were a couple of maids there to take coats, and then a huge foyer that opened up into an enormous great room, where a buffet was laid out.

  “Oh shit,” Michael gasped.

  “What?”

  “Those are my grandparents.”

  I looked to where he was pointing, and standing with Dreo was an older man who looked just like him and Michael and a gorgeous woman who had the whole Sophia Loren thing going on. Her hair fel
l to her shoulders, thick and chestnut with dyed blonde streaks in it, and she had the same dark eyes that her son did. Dreo had inherited his broad shoulders and height from his father, who stood just an inch or so shorter than his son. Stunning man, and I had an idea of how beautiful Dreo would be when he too hit sixty. Instantly, I moved to the side of the room.

  “What’re you doing?” Michael asked, having followed me.

  “Go see your grandparents.”

  “You too, come on.”

  I shook my head. “Not here. It’s not a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s not fair to them. We already know they’re going to hate me, Dreo said. But I don’t want to make a scene.”

  “They won’t, just come on.”

  “You go,” I told him. “I’ll be right here.”

  “Nate—”

  “Go,” I ordered him.

  He left me, and I stood there beside one of the huge windows that looked out at the front drive. When Michael closed in on them, Mrs. Fiore reached for her grandson and pulled him into a hug. I watched them talk, looked at Dreo and his father as well. They stood side by side, talking but not looking at each other as Mrs. Fiore spoke looking right at Michael, both of her hands on his shoulders. Whatever she was saying was urgent.

  My phone rang as I watched them, and I answered without checking the caller ID.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Dad.”

  “Hey Jare.” I smiled, feeling like the vise my heart was in fell away. My kid, my life, everything righted.

  “You got a second?”

  “Always for you.”

  “Okay” was all he said.

  I waited a minute. And another. “Jare?”

  He cleared his throat. “You can’t get mad.”

  My grunt was loud. “That’s not fair. I might get mad; depending on what it is, I might even lose my mind. You can’t tell me how to be. Just spill it.”

  “Shit.”

  “Jare?”

  He took a breath. “Me and Gillian are getting married.”

  I was confused. “Why would I be mad about that?”

  “Really?”

  Was he kidding? “Yeah, why?”

  “Mom was mad.”

  “You called her first?”

  “So now you’re mad?”

  “Not mad,” I assured him.

  “Ohmygod, you can’t be hurt ’cause I called her first.”

  “Fine.”

  He chuckled. “God, I love you.”

  It was not that his confession was any kind of revelation. I never doubted he loved me; I was his father, after all. “What?”

  “No, I just mean… you always say how you feel, and I never have to dig.”

  “I hate digging.”

  “I know, me too, and since you raised me, I always think everyone is just like us.”

  “Nope.”

  “Yeah, not at all. So far the human race has been a great big disappointment in that department. No one just says how they feel, you have to excavate.”

  I snickered. “Not your mother.”

  “No, she was pissed.”

  All at once I realized why his mother would have been mad. “You’re getting married for a reason, right? Is Gillian pregnant?”

  Silence.

  “Jare?”

  “Yeah,” he said softly.

  I couldn’t breathe. “I’m going to be a grandfather?”

  “Yeah.” He sounded like he was wincing.

  “Really? You’re not screwing with me?”

  He chuckled. “No.”

  “Oh. Oh, shit. Oh—where are you going to—what is your—”

  “We, uhm—” He cleared his throat. “—were thinking of moving back to Chicago, if that would be—”

  “That would be fantastic! You can stay with me!”

  He let out a deep breath. “We really don’t want to do that. I mean, I love ya, you know I do, but—”

  “I’m pretty sure that there are three available lofts in my building,” I rushed out the words. “I mean I know for sure there are two, one on my floor even, but that might be too close, so we could talk to—”

  “On your floor would be great.” He caught his breath.

  “It would?”

  “Yeah, it—I mean, I would love to be that close, and Gillian has been madly in love with you since the moment she met you, so I know she’d be thrilled too.”

  “Are you sure, Jare? You want to move home?”

  “Yeah, I really do.”

  I was getting excited. My son would be back in Chicago, close to me where I could see him whenever I wanted, whenever he wanted, whenever he needed me. “I do too. God, it would be a dream to have you back home, to be close to the baby so he or—”

  “She.”

  “She?” My voice quavered. “A little girl?”

  “Yeah.”

  I felt the tears behind my eyes as I nodded.

  “You’re cryin’, aren’t you?”

  “Not yet,” I managed to get out.

  “God, Dad, are you serious? You want us that close to you? I mean right there? You just got rid of me not too long ago.”

  “Yes.” I was smiling so big I knew I was probably glowing.

  “Ohmygod, that would be so perfect. That would be… amazing.”

  “Okay.” I was shaking. “Then I’ll get to work on it first thing Monday morning and give you a progress report later that day.”

  I could hear him breathing, but no words were coming.

  “Jare? Honey?”

  “Jesus, you’re just so—” He sucked in air. “—I can always count on you.”

  “That’s what fathers are for, love,” I promised him. “You must know that.”

  “Some fathers, Dad, not all.”

  “I know you’ll be like that. You’ll be a wonderful father.”

  “’Cause I have you to… you….”

  “Nate?”

  “Gillian.” I was surprised my kid was gone but happy to hear her at the same time. “What happened to Jare?”

  “He’s fine. He’s just a little… it’s been a weird day, but—” She took a shaky breath herself. “He just needs a minute.”

  “Okay.” I smiled into the phone. “How are you, sweetheart? How do you feel?”

  “What,” she said, sniffling, and only then did I realize that she was upset, “did you say to Jare? He’s all smiling and crying and—”

  “Oh, I told him that there’s a couple of open lofts in my building, one down the hall from me and one two floors down, because maybe you guys don’t want to be quite that close and—”

  “No, I’d love to be on the same floor as you.”

  Amazing. They both liked me. I was doing something right, that was for sure. “Well.” I cleared my throat. “I was telling him that first thing Monday morning, I’ll call my Realtor and she’ll find out who owns them, and we’ll get started on purchasing—”

  “Ohmygod!” she gasped, cutting me off, squealing. “You’re the only one who… my parents just disowned me, and Jare’s mother was so….” She inhaled like she could barely breathe. “Nate… it means… oh God!”

  “Gillian,” I soothed her, “love, your parents will come around. And I know Melissa. You guys just shocked her. She’ll be around too, you’ll see.”

  “But you… you were just wonderful right from the start, first words out of your mouth were just—perfect and supportive and let’s do this and….” She had to stop, to cry for a second and get herself back under control. “I mean the baby, our baby… this is my child that everyone is angry about, and you, you’re actually happy to be a grandfather, aren’t you? Like really, completely happy?”

  “I’m over the moon,” I told her honestly. “I would give you a happy whoop, but that would be in very poor taste at the moment since I’m at a funeral. When are you coming?”

  “When can you make arrangements?”

  “Sweetheart, you guys can come today. I
have room at my place. You know that; you’ve been here.”

  “Yes, I have. Some of my favorite holidays are the ones I spent with you and Jare.”

  “There, see. We can put your things in storage for a couple of weeks and then move it all right in. Don’t wait, just show up. Everything will be fine. We’ll have a place for you guys certainly well before Christmas.”

  “Ohmygod!” She squeaked, and there were muffled sounds, and then my boy was back.

  “Dad,” he said, his voice a throaty whisper.

  “Jare,” I said back with the same über-serious tone.

  His laughter was loud and boisterous, and since I loved it so, I couldn’t stop smiling.

  “When can we seriously come?”

  “Come now, come today, come before Thanksgiving. I was sick that I wouldn’t get to see you. I would love it if you could make it. I’ll cook a huge turkey.”

  “I don’t know if we can get things together that fast, but we’ll so try. I didn’t want to be away from you for Thanksgiving either. It doesn’t feel like anything special if I’m not with you.”

  My kid was trying to kill me. “I feel the same exact way.”

  He sucked in his breath.

  “I’ll talk to my Realtor like I said, get things rolling on the place, and I’ll find Gillian a top OB and have the appointment made when you guys get here if she wants.”

  Muffled sound again, he had his hand over his cell phone.

  “Yeah,” he said after a second. “That would ease her mind.”

  “Okay, good.”

  He was quiet.

  “Jare?”

  “I… this is my family now, you know? I mean, how everyone was, they only get one shot at that. I’ll remember this for the rest of my life. I may forgive what they said, but I’ll never forget it. Not ever.”

  “Your mother doesn’t do change well,” I reminded him. “You know that. Give her a second chance, love.”

  “I don’t know if I… this is my baby.”

  “Please,” I pleaded. “One more chance for Mom.”

  He took another breath. “I love you.”

  “I love you too,” I told him. “Call me.”