by Alexa Land
“Oh.”
“And really, that’s a good thing. There wouldn’t be the pressure of living together and I’d be able to do things on my own,” I added.
“Doesn’t any of that bother you, though?” Yosh asked. “It doesn’t sound like he’s asking you to be his boyfriend, he’s just moving his booty call to the east coast.”
“I know. I can accept that that’s all I am.” I pushed back from the kitchen table to make myself another drink, and Yosh jumped up and grabbed me in a hug. “Shit,” I said, “did I trip the pathetic puppy switch?”
“I love you, Gianni,” Yosh said, “and I really hope you do give this a lot of thought.”
“I will, I swear,” I told him. “Now let’s all focus on what’s important here: getting drunk and preparing ourselves. Nana’s threatening to turn tonight’s dinner into an episode of her cooking show. Believe me when I say, none of us should be sober for that.”
*****
Coincidentally, the theme of Sunday dinner and the episode-in-the-making of my grandmother’s cable TV show was ‘cooking with alcohol’. Nana, Jessie and Tom Selleck the puppy arrived home with a big box from the liquor store. While Nana went off to change and the dog terrorized the backyard, Jessie unpacked a dozen bottles of booze onto the kitchen counter and regaled us with tales of puppy training. Marie had apparently almost met her match in Gizmo, but she felt there was hope for the creature. My brother hired her to come to the house five days a week until the little beast was at least sort of civilized.
Vincent, Trevor and Josh arrived a couple minutes later. Trevor usually acted as the cameraman and Vincent helped with sound and lighting. Nana had used a professional crew for the first few episodes of her show, but then she’d fired them. They hadn’t taken to being bossed around as well as her family did.
Christian and Shea arrived at the same time as my brother Dante and his husband Charlie, soon followed by a tired-looking Nico. I’d set up shop on the kitchen table, mixing up Lynchburg lemonades by the pitcher, and immediately supplied our new arrivals with some big cocktails. “You planning to get everyone drunk tonight?” Dante asked me with a grin.
“Oh hell yeah,” I told him, “and so’s Nana, by the sound of things.”
“Bring it on,” Nico said, chugging half his drink.
I yelled across the kitchen, “Jessie, can you be the designated driver and ferry everyone home if they get wasted?”
“Of course! We can load up the limo and make deliveries of your drunk-ass family all over the city,” he yelled back.
“Thanks, Jess,” I called. “By the way, is your real name Jahaziel?”
“No! Where’d you even get that?”
“I googled awkward Biblical names beginning with J.”
“Who says it starts with J?”
“Call it a hunch. Japheth?”
“Quit guessing! I won’t tell you even if you’re right!”
“Jemuel?”
Jessie burst out laughing. “Stop! I’m going to be so mad if you actually guess it!” I flashed him a smile and let it drop.
My grandmother bustled into the room just then dressed in a crisp turquoise suit and an extremely tall chef’s hat. “We better get this show on the road,” she said. “We got hungry people to feed! Roll the camera, Trevor, and make sure we got the mic on, Vinnie. Like usual we’re just gonna film everything and sort it out in editing.”
Jessie, whose job description had expanded at some point to include being Nana’s on-air assistant, had put a bunch of pots and pans on the big six-burner stove before turning his attention to opening the bottles of wine and spirits. He was a ham in front of the camera, and as soon as Trevor turned it on, he struck a pose and flashed a huge smile. “We’re rolling, Nana,” he said.
“What?” Nana looked around, and eventually realized the camera was running. “Oh good, okay. We got lots to get through today and not much time to do it. Why is this show only half an hour? What’re you going to cook in that time? We’re not making fast food here. Am I right, Jessie?”
“Absolutely.”
“I got my family here for Sunday dinner and I want to make them a nice pasta e fagioli to start. That’s a soup with beans and pasta, only you don’t need me to tell you it’s got pasta in it because it’s right there in the name. We got a theme for tonight’s meal. I’m gonna kick it up with some booze. Normally, you might put some red wine in this soup. Let’s see what we got here.” She grabbed the wine bottle closest to her and took a big swig.
“That one’s white wine, Nana,” Jessie pointed out.
“So it is. It’s real nice, though.” She took another drink from the bottle before setting it down and picking up another. “Is this one red? Never mind, I’ll find out for myself.” She drank from that one too. Then she said, “I premade a few things to save time. You gotta do that on these cooking shows, otherwise you’re not gonna have anything to show your audience. Grab the sausages and meatballs from the fridge, Jessie.”
“On it.” He retrieved a couple big trays and put them on the counter.
“Show your balls to the camera, Jessie,” she said. “I want everyone to see how big and meaty they are.” Jessie fought back a laugh and tilted the tray of meatballs toward the camera. “Some people like small balls, but not me,” Nana said. “I say the bigger the better. You want balls you can really sink your teeth into.”
Christian, who was right beside me, tried to cover a laugh with the old cough-in-your-hand trick while Chance chuckled and whispered, “Sounds painful.”
“I precooked these and the sausages,” Nana was saying. “Now I gotta get the soup going, but first I need to pick out the wine that’s gonna be going in there.”
She drank from a couple more bottles as Jessie said, “Do you want to show your audience the soup you made earlier, so they get an idea what it’s going to look like?”
“Sure, why not? Serve some up, Jessie.” While he got a plastic container from the refrigerator and ladled soup into a shallow, decorative bowl, she looked into the camera and said, “You don’t just have to limit yourself to wine in your cooking. That’s why we went and got all this other stuff at the liquor store. Some whiskey might make for a real interesting soup base, or even some tequila. It’ll give it that, you know, international flair. Let’s see what this is over here.” She picked up a small bottle and chugged some of it before saying, “What the hell was that?”
“Jagermeister,” Jessie told her.
“I don’t know about that one. Maybe some of this.” She picked up a bottle of Schnapps and took a long drink before saying, “Now that one I like. Forget the soup, we should just drink this stuff.” She took another swig.
The puppy began whimpering at the back door and Nana said, “Somebody let Tom Selleck in, would you? It’s not very professional to have him whining in the background while we’re doing a high-class cooking program.” She took another drink of Schnapps while Josh went to do as she asked.
As soon as the door was open a crack, the dog pushed his way in and ran right for the food. He jumped up on his hind legs and caught the sausage tray with his huge paws. The sausages went flying and Jessie dove in to try to help, but ended up whacking a corner of the other tray and catapulting the meatballs. “Shit, there go my balls,” Nana yelled as meat rained down all over the kitchen. Jessie saved one of the sausages while Vincent jumped in and struggled to get hold of the big animal. The dog meanwhile was in a meat-induced frenzy, squirming and straining as he tried to vacuum up everything within reach.
“This is my favorite TV show,” Shea said. I toasted him with my glass before we both took a drink.
“I’m going to save the Jager,” Yosh announced, then quickly dashed into the fray, flashed a thumbs up at the camera, and grabbed the bottle.
“It’s good that you have your priorities straight,” I told him when he rejoined our group at the kitchen table.
Once Vincent leashed the dog and dragged him out of the shot, Nana regaine
d her composure and looked into the camera. Trevor had been calmly filming throughout all of that. “That shit wasn’t supposed to happen,” she said. “But look, we still got a nice soup here.” Trevor focused on the dish as Nana added the long, brown sausage that Jessie had saved. It curved up and out of the shallow bowl.
“He got most of ‘em, but there’s a couple meatballs here that the dog missed,” Nana said as she plucked them off the counter. She dropped them into the soup bowl on either side of the sausage. Jessie chuckled as he pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of the suddenly NC-17 dish.
“Maybe that should be a wrap for now, Nana,” Dante suggested.
“Yeah, you’re right,” she said as Trevor shut off the camera and cut the stage lights that were mounted to the ceiling. “We gotta regroup and figure out dinner after all of that. The only one we don’t need to worry about feeding is Tom Selleck.”
Everyone got up to lend a hand. I started to wipe down the counter, but then I paused and took a long look at the people around me. I loved my friends and family so much, and if I moved, I was going to miss them like crazy. But my life was at such a stand-still. A few months ago, I’d returned to the house where I’d grown up because I hadn’t had any other options. Now Jason was offering me an alternative. Didn’t I owe it to myself to give that relationship a shot and to say yes to a fresh start? I sighed quietly and went back to cleaning.
Chapter Nine
I spent the next couple days grappling with my decision. Meanwhile, Jason kept texting me from his whirlwind travels, saying all the right things. I assured him I was giving his offer serious thought.
On Wednesday, Vincent rented a wood chipper, which we towed to Marin behind his big SUV. I hadn’t told him (or any other member of my family) that I was thinking about moving, so when he remarked that I was quiet, I just went with, “I have a lot on my mind.” That was certainly true enough.
Zan was being...well, Zan when we arrived. He did come out of his cave to say hello, then went right back in a minute later. When Vincent went into the house for a glass of water after a couple hours, Zan immediately engaged him in conversation. But as soon as I joined them, he retreated to the den.
I watched him through the windows while we worked. Even from a distance, I could tell he was agitated. He’d pace for a while, then perch on the edge of the couch before leaping up and pacing again. What on earth was up with him?
When the very last of the yard work was completed, I paused to take a look around me. I’d done all I could. The hills were freshly mowed, the trees cleared of dead branches, the landscaping around the house totally cleaned up. I couldn’t make Zan any safer all alone out here. Hopefully a wildfire would never occur, but if one did, I’d done as much as possible to ensure he’d be okay.
After he washed up, Vincent went inside to say goodbye. I spent some time wiping off the grass clippings that stuck to the mower, and when my brother came out of the house I told him, “I’m going to be a couple minutes, I want to talk to Zan.”
“Take your time,” my brother said, pulling out his phone and typing a message.
I picked up a little black box that I’d left on a shelf in the garage to keep it cool, and carried it into the house with me. The door to the den was closed again, and I hesitated before I knocked. My heartbeat increased as nervousness crept up on me.
Come on, Zan, I thought to myself. Give me something. Anything. Just the smallest sign that lets me know I’m not the only one feeling this. Please. Be the reason I stay.
When he opened the door, he just stared at me. He still seemed agitated, or maybe upset about something. I couldn’t read the turmoil in his eyes.
“I brought you something,” I said, thrusting the little black box at him. It had a clear lid, revealing three square, chocolate-covered confections inside. “I decided not to go with fruit this time. These are salted caramels. I know that sounds odd, but they’ve become popular in the last couple years and they’re actually kind of amazing.”
“That sounds revolting.”
“I know, but trust me on this.” He made no move to take the box from me so I gently picked up his hand and placed it on his palm. I held on to him a few seconds longer than I needed to. He didn’t pull away. He didn’t do anything at all, aside from staring at me.
Finally, feeling stupid, I released his hand and took a step back from him. My voice was quiet when I said, “Please, Zan, give it a chance. Open yourself up to a new experience. You might be pleasantly surprised.”
I just as easily could have been talking about giving me a chance. It didn’t make a difference either way, though. His expression didn’t change. He wanted no part of any of this.
This is all me, I thought. One hundred percent. He doesn’t even like me, and he sure as hell isn’t attracted to me. You’re being pathetic and you need to let this go.
“Please take care of yourself,” I whispered, then turned and left. He didn’t say a word.
When I was in the SUV, I turned my head to look out the passenger window. Tears prickled at the back of my eyes, which was ridiculous. How could I feel like I’d lost something when I never even had it in the first place?
About the time we reached town, the wood chipper rattling behind us, I had made a decision. I asked my brother, “Would you be willing to take over that job for me? You saw all that it entails, there’s not a hell of a lot to it.”
Vincent glanced at me. “Why do you ask?”
“I think...” I looked out the passenger window again and chewed on my lip. Finally I said, “I think I’m going to be moving. I’ve been seeing Jason Jax and he asked me to come to New York with him. But before I go, I want to make sure Zan is in good hands. He likes you, and you’re the most reliable person I know, so you’re the logical choice to take over. I’d have to clear it with Christian, of course, but there’s no reason for him to object.”
“Sure, I’d take over for you. When would you be moving?”
“Tomorrow.”
“What?”
“I know. Jason asked me over the weekend and I’ve been debating the pros and cons. I kind of just made up my mind,” I told him.
“What ultimately convinced you to go?”
“Zan, I guess. I can’t even really explain how or why. I just know it hurts to see him day after day, week after week, knowing nothing will ever change with him. He’s just stuck there, unwilling to do even the tiniest thing to address his problems or expand his world. I can’t help him, I can’t make anything better for him, because he doesn’t want my help. So, I don’t know. Maybe this move is an excuse to end it. Even if New York wasn’t an option, I’d still want to leave that job because it makes my heart ache.”
“You really care about him,” Vincent said gently.
“I do. But what I feel for him will always be one-sided.”
“You sure about that?”
“Yeah.”
We drove in silence for a while until Vincent asked, “Is this move really what you want?”
“I guess so. I mean, why not give Jason a chance? He seems to like me, and he’s offering me a great opportunity for a fresh start.” Vincent didn’t say anything to that, so I asked, “Don’t you approve?”
“My opinion isn’t what’s important here.”
“God, you’re frustrating,” I told him.
Vincent shot me a quick glance. “How am I frustrating?”
“You’re always so calm and neutral. It’s like having Switzerland for a brother. You never try to tell me what to do.”
He grinned at that. “If you want someone who’ll tell you what to do, go talk to Nana or Dante. They’ll be more than happy to give you their opinion.”
“But you must have an opinion, too.”
He glanced at me again. “You’re a grown man, Gi, and it’s your life. Whatever you decide, I support you.”
That made me grin, too. “Josh is lucky to have you for a dad. That Zen-like calm has to be a good thing when raising an almo
st-teenager.”
When we finally got back to the city, I asked him to drop me off at Yosh’s tattoo studio, which was on the way to the equipment rental yard. I climbed out of the SUV and turned to my brother. “Thank you for all your help with the landscaping. I really appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome. It was fun.” That made me grin. Only Vincent would think that.
I slid Zan’s keys off my key ring and handed them to my brother. “I’ll go see Christian this afternoon and make it official. Here are these in the meantime, and I’ll email you Zan’s shopping list.”
“Alright, and you don’t have to worry,” he said. “I’ll make sure he has everything he needs.”
“Thanks again, Vincent. Oh, and do me a favor, okay? Don’t tell Nana about New York. I want to tell her myself when I get home tonight.”
“Will do.”
“I love you, V. I’ll talk to you soon.”
“I love you too, Johnnie.” That made me smile. My brother had been really closed off before he met his husband, and there would have been a time when that simple exchange would have been way too much for him. It was nice to see him evolve. I shut the door to the Land Rover and watched him drive away, then headed into the studio.
*****
I returned home close to midnight. I’d spent the afternoon and evening visiting my friends and my brothers and telling them my plans. Christian and Shea had been out though, so I left a message letting Christian know I needed to speak to him. I didn’t anticipate any problems with Vincent taking over for me, but there was still the formality of asking my friend.
Surprisingly, my grandmother was awake when I got home. I found her in the kitchen, dressed in a pink, fuzzy robe over a pair of purple pajamas, baking lemon poppy seed muffins. She wore her big, round glasses, which she always needed but was normally too vain to use, and was referring to a stained recipe card that was probably older than me. “Hi, Nana,” I said as I pulled a couple muffin tins from the cabinet and found the paper liners. “You’re up late.”
