by D. J. Manly
Drake went pale.
"You think I don't know? You think I haven't known all along? Christ, Dad, everyone knows! They're just too afraid to say it out loud. When I was on the road with you guys, don't you think I saw it? The long line of lovers that never stayed around too long, the jealousy between you, the way Uncle Johnny always tried to make you jealous by flaunting his men in front of you?
I'd walk in on you in the dressing room and he'd be rubbing your back in a way I've never seen any brother rub another guy's back before. I know you slept with him last summer. I knew it as soon as you came back, because nothing was ever the same again! And now Johnny is not enough, you have to have your nephew too...a nephew who is young enough to be your son!"
Angelo was so angry that there were tears in his eyes.
Drake was speechless.
Angelo looked at Tony. "And you were moaning about the years you had lost with this family? Ha! You should thank your mother, she did you a favour by keeping you away. What benefit have I had as the great Drake Russo's son? None whatsoever."
Drake crossed the floor quickly and slapped his son hard in the face.
Tony winced at the sound of it.
Angelo never moved a muscle, even though his face was turning red where he'd hit him.
"I didn't sleep with Tony. I can't believe that your opinion of me is that low. I loved you the best way I could. I tried to keep you out of the spotlight, protect you. When you got older, I allowed you to make your own choices. I taught you to love music. I took you places, showed you the world and yet you stand there and say you..." his voice faltered.
Suddenly, Sophia came to stand at the door. She looked from Drake to his son and then back again.
"Why are you tearing each other apart when you love each other so much? Angelo," she walked over to her grandson, "I've seen your father rock you to sleep in his arms, sing you lullabies, rush to your side if Janet even so much as thought you had a runny nose. He loves you more then anything in this world, and you know this."
"And you?" Sophia looked at Drake. "How can you scream at your son for hitting Tony when you have just hit your son yourself? I have never seen you hit Angelo in your life. What's got into you?"
There was silence. "I'm sorry, Angelo," Drake said and left the room.
Sophia looked at Angelo. "What about Tony? Are you man enough to apologize to him?"
Angelo heaved a sigh and looked at his grandmother. "You don't understand, Grandma."
"I don't have to. You have no cause to hit anyone. Now make a man out of yourself and apologize."
"He doesn't have to, Grandmother," Tony said.
"Be quiet!" She snapped. "He does, and he will. It's Christmas Day, all my family is together and we are going to have peace. It could be my last Christmas on this earth. Angelo, do it for me."
"I'm sorry, Tony," he murmured and then walked out.
"Come on," Sophia said, taking Tony by the arm, "let's have a look at that."
"He said it, but he didn't mean it," Tony muttered as they walked to the bathroom.
"Down deep he did. He meant it. He lost his temper, that's all. He's a good boy."
Tony laughed. "Ya, and I got a fat lip to prove it."
Sophia grinned.
* * * * * *
Drake stood out on the terrace, his hands gripping the rail. He thought he would like to cry, but he couldn't.
When he heard a sound behind him, he was surprised to see his son standing there.
"Hi," Angelo said, raising a hand.
Drake nodded at him and turned away.
"Dad, I...I'm sorry for the things I said." He moved closer to him. "I do love you...I..."
"Why?" Drake turned around and looked at him.
"Why are you sorry? Everything you said was true."
"I didn't mean to attack you like that. I was angry, upset. I came in today and I saw Tony coming out of your bedroom and I assumed...."
"I can understand why you would have thought that. I've had lovers that age before. Nothing happened, Angelo, but it almost did." He spoke as if to himself, turning away.
Angelo said nothing. Instead he looked down at the floor and uttered a soft sigh.
"All this time," Drake said, turning to face him again, "you knew about Johnny and I and yet you said nothing. I can only imagine what holding that inside must have done to you. I never wanted my sins visited on you. My misery was my own."
"Dad...I may not understand, but..." Angelo began.
Drake reached out for his son. He pulled him into his arms and held him. "I love you," he murmured, kissing his hair, "Please, no matter what, don't hate me. I hate myself enough for both of us. I know this whole thing has hurt you. It's hurt everyone. I tried to protect you, Drake, I really did."
Angelo kissed his father on the cheek and released him. It had been a long time since his father had embraced him like that and called him Drake.
"I don't hate you, Dad. I don't understand this whole thing between you and Uncle Johnny, but I could never hate you." Angelo walked over to the railing and looked out at the water in the distance. "I...I made a mistake just recently myself, a big one. I should have never..." he paused, closing his eyes.
"Slept with Tony?" His father raised an eyebrow.
"Ya. He used me, and I ended up feeling more then I should have. My emotions got away from me. I thought everything was under control...I don't know. It was a mistake, that's all, a mistake I mean to put right."
"How?"
"I'm taking Company Angelo on the road. We've found someone to manage the band..." he paused.
"Don't worry, Dad," he sneered, "I didn't ask Frank."
"Angelo," Drake sighed heavily and threw up his hands, "I know I told you I wanted you to experience what it was like to struggle. I didn't say you couldn't use some of my connections..."
"No, Dad. I either do this entirely on my own or I don't. This is what you wanted. No compromises. Anyway, we leave next week. I know Tony will be living here with you and Uncle Johnny. Johnny is staying with you until he recovers completely, isn't he?"
Drake nodded.
"Anyway, I want to put some distance between Tony and I."
"How many times did it happen?" Drake asked him gently.
"Twice," Angelo replied, looking away.
"His idea or yours?"
"His, both times."
"Are you in love with him?" Drake asked, watching the expression on his son's face.
"I don't know. I could be with the right persuasion."
Drake sighed. "I'm sorry. Any chance he feels the same? You are only cousins."
Angelo shook his head. "I'll tell you what my take on Tony is, okay? When he found out he was a Russo, he immediately assumed that he had missed a lot in his life. He associates L.A. and the rock music scene with freedom, sex, and having a good time."
Drake nodded. "I can understand that."
"In that town where he's from, he never got the opportunity to express his sexuality and it appears there was no one to even talk about it with. Now suddenly he's in L.A. with people who don't bat an eye at being gay and he wants to throw off his old skin. He's too afraid to do the L.A. bar scene right away, so he figures I can break him in. Who he really wants is you, because you've been his sexual fantasy since he was a boy. He used me to get ready for you."
Drake said nothing for a minute. "He'll get over that. It's a crush. Are there been others besides you?"
"Ya. He had two guys with him one night when he came down to the club to hear me play."
Drake met his son's eyes. "Do you think a father can pass on an attraction to his son?"
"What?" Angelo was confused.
"Could you be attracted to Tony because of the way I feel about Johnny?"
"Dad, that makes no sense."
"Could Johnny have passed that on to Tony so that he would feel attracted to you?"
"Dad?"
"Johnny had a dream. He told me about it in the hospital. I got real
angry at him but..."
Angelo came over and placed a hand on his father's arm. "Stop it, Dad. There is nothing between Tony and I except some misunderstandings, that's all."
"You were his first. I still remember my first," Drake smiled.
Angelo laughed. "You must have a good memory!"
"Oh, shut up." Drake poked him in the ribs. "Not nice. Anyway, I've been doing a lot of thinking about things this morning."
"Thinking about what?" Angelo asked.
"About the way my life has been. I've made a few decisions."
"What's that," Angelo laughed, "to become a monk?" He threw himself into one of the easy chairs.
He sobered when he saw the serious look on his father's face. "What is it, Dad? I'm listening."
"I'm going to set some ground rules with Johnny. We're going to stop trying to hurt each other so much. We're going to try it for six months and if after that, it doesn't work, I'm going to leave the band."
Angelo's eyes widened. His jaw dropped open.
"You're going to what?"
"You heard me. If Johnny and I can give each other nothing but misery when we're together, then it's time we live apart."
"But you are the band!" Angelo protested, springing out of his chair. "You'll tear The Russo Brothers apart, Dad. It will never survive without you, and even if it could...Mac would refuse to...so would Pepi and Johnny...well...Dad..."
"Then maybe you could step into my place if..." he paused as he saw the pain on his son's face. "I didn't say I was leaving the band for certain...I..."
"Who's leaving the band?" It was Johnny. He was standing in the doorway, leaning on a crutch. He wore a Santa Claus hat to hide the bald patches around his ear. His hair was growing out pretty long already in the back. He was dressed in black flannel pants with a forest green sweater, the pants loose on him. He had lost a lot of weight.
He was looking at Drake now, who had turned his back.
"No one is leaving the band, Uncle Johnny," Angelo said with a smile.
Johnny's eyes stayed on his brother's back. "Then why did you say it?"
When there was no response, Johnny said, "We built this band together, you and I and Mac and now...you want to destroy it? Is that it, Drake? You want to run away and leave me? Do you really believe Mac, Pepi or I could carry on without you? Why don't you just rip out our hearts while you're at it?"
"Stop it, Johnny!" Drake snapped, turning to face him. "Stop the goddamned drama. No one is leaving the band today, okay?"
After a few seconds, Drake forced himself to smile.
He walked over to his younger brother. "Merry Christmas. You look wonderful. How do you feel?"
Johnny searched Drake's face, then relaxed. The tension was gone. "Not bad, actually. The turkey smells wonderful." He turned to his nephew. "Merry Christmas, Angelo," he smiled at him. "Is that what you're wearing today?"
Angelo looked down at his old blue sweatpants and white T-shirt and laughed. "No, Uncle Johnny, and I get the message." He gave Johnny a mocking grin.
"And you, big brother?" Johnny raised an eyebrow.
"Are you going to stay in your housecoat all day?"
"I'm going...I'm going..." Drake protested, leaving the room.
Seconds later, Tony walked in. He gave Angelo a hesitant look and then smiled at his father, who with Angelo's help had hobbled over to a chair and sat down.
"Good God, what happened to your mouth?"
Johnny demanded.
"Ask your nephew." Tony narrowed his eyes at Angelo.
Angelo rolled his eyes. "Poor baby. It's not that bad, just a scratch."
"You hit him?" Johnny swung his eyes in the direction of his nephew.
"Ya, I did. Why don't you ask him why?" Angelo replied, folding his arms defensively across his chest.
Johnny met Tony's eyes.
"I have no idea," Tony answered his father's wordless question. "Jealous, maybe?" He raised an eyebrow and gave Angelo an exaggerated grin.
"Fuck you!" Angelo replied hotly.
"Hey...hey..." Johnny protested. "This is Christmas day and no matter what the problems are, I expect both of you to put them aside until this day is over. Is that understood?"
Angelo nodded. "No problem," he said and left the room.
Tony was about to follow when he heard his father say, "Halt!"
Tony groaned and turned to face his dad. "I don't want to talk about it, Dad, okay?"
"No, it's not okay. What happened? Tell me."
"I fell asleep in Drake's bed last night....
"What?" Johnny interrupted. "You...what in hell were you doing in Drake's bed?"
"He wasn't in it...at least he wasn't until morning," Tony muttered.
"What...and...?"
"Angelo saw me coming out of his dad's room and he thought we had slept together."
Johnny felt as if his lungs were bursting. "And...did you?"
"No!" Tony cried.
"Thank God," Johnny sighed with relief. "Have you had sex with Angelo?"
"Dad! I don't think I..."
"You have, haven't you? I knew it. I had a dream about it. Tony, why...why did you...?"
"Because it was safe and I was scared to do it with a stranger. I only needed him to...well...break me in. I'm fine now." He smiled.
"Tony, you can't play games like that and expect that there won't be any hurt feelings. Are you in love with Angelo?"
"No," Tony protested. "Are you kidding? I wish he'd...I don't even want to see him...I wouldn't touch him with...I don't give a..."
Johnny looked at him. "A simple no would have been enough, son, and far more convincing. Anyway, I can't save you from a broken heart. I saw it in a dream and even if Drake makes fun of my dreams, they always come true."
Tony blinked. "Your dream said that Angelo is going to have a broken heart?"
"No, that you are."
"Me?" He laughed. "No way. Oh," Tony said, looking out the window, "Janet and Mac just drove up. I'm going to go say hi."
Johnny nodded. "I'll be there soon."
"Want some help?"
"No. You look nice, by the way."
Tony was wearing navy dress pants with a pale blue shirt. "Thanks," he sang and went to greet Janet and Mac.
Johnny looked out the window and sighed. The thought that Drake could actually consider leaving the band made his heart ache. He closed his eyes. Tony would come to know that ache soon enough although he refused to acknowledge it for the time being. It would hit him all of a sudden, at a time when he least expected to feel it. Then it would settle into his bones and would never leave him.
As for his nephew...well, he would hurt too, but somehow he would handle it better. He would lash out, hit something...like Tony! Angelo was like his father.
Tony, on the other hand, was just like him. He had noticed it over these last few weeks as he had got to know him and began to understand his temperament.
Tony felt things deeper and took things to heart.
Johnny got up out of his chair, leaning heavily on his crutch. Sophia met him at the door and took his arm.
They went into the living room, where Janet and Mac sat together curled up on the sofa.
Tony was there, talking to them. Johnny sat down opposite them.
They made small talk and then Drake came in with Pepi. They both wore corduroys, Drake's were burgundy, Pepi's were tan. Drake had on a cream-coloured cableknit sweater and Pepi wore a chocolate-brown one. They sat side-by-side, Pepi looking exceptionally pleased to be seated beside Drake.
Tony couldn't help thinking how handsome Drake looked and the image of him naked in that bed this morning manifested itself clearly in his mind.
He tried to shake it loose and concentrate on what Mac was saying, but it was difficult. His eyes riveted to the curve of Drake's mouth as he smiled, and then moved downward to where his hands rested on his knees. He tore his eyes away and looked over at his aunt.
Janet seemed unusually quiet today i
n her knee-length red dress and high heels. She didn't look very happy. Mac held her hand the whole time they were sitting there on the sofa, giving it a little squeeze once in a while.
Sophia also had said very little since Pepi insisted she take a seat near them.
There were some questions concerning the puffiness of Tony's mouth, which Drake quickly redirected to something else.
Angelo made an appearance now, fresh from the shower. He wore soft brown leather pants with a caramel-coloured peasant shirt, open at the neck. He leaned over to kiss his mother and grandmother, then perched himself on the arm of the sofa next to his father.
Tony looked him over, noticing that Angelo had grown a thin moustache on his upper lip. It suited him.
His hand rested on the top of his upper thigh. It was magnificently shaped with long tapering fingers. Piano-playing hands, as they called them. They were strong, well-shaped hands and Tony suddenly got the vaguest recollection of what those hands felt like when they were caressing his skin. He looked away.
Father and son. It was funny how when they spoke, their voices sounded remarkably similar. Both deep, Drake's a little less exuberant, more laid back, calm.
Angelo's voice was younger, full of excitement as Pepi asked him to tell him about Company Angelo.
When Angelo announced that he was taking the band on the road, all eyes turned to Tony as he blurted out, "For how long?"
"I don't know," Angelo replied, lifting an eyebrow.
He looked surprised at Tony's outburst. "Six months, a year maybe."
Tony flushed. He felt stupid for asking. He nodded.
"That will be nice."
Drake was praising the move, telling Angelo that going on the road was just what was required.
Janet glanced over at her son. "My son is deserting me again. Just like your father, you've got the wanderlust."
"Oh, Mom, it will go fast. You'll be busy with Mac anyway," Angelo winked.
Mac rolled his eyes and made a face while Janet laughed and hit him.
Drake gave Janet a tender look and then grinned at Mac. "Watch it, Mac, she's a wild one but I don't think she ever got that excited with me!"
She shook her head. "Stop it, you guys. And Drake, no comparing notes, please."
