by Roan Parrish
Daniel and I have texted and talked on the phone some, and I saw him when he came to Philly to interview for the Temple job. He was a mess—nervous he wouldn’t get the job, possibly more nervous that he would because he was convinced that Rex didn’t really want to leave Michigan and move with him if he got it. It took Ginger to calm him down finally, practically shaking him and then snatching his phone and calling Rex to extract assurances that, yes, he really would move to Philly if Daniel got the job, and no, he wouldn’t resent Daniel forever for making him leave his cabin in Michigan.
Daniel may be cool with me now, but despite working together to calm him down that night, I’m pretty sure Ginger still hates me on his behalf. And after years of hearing stories where I was the boogieman, I guess I can’t blame her. Of course Daniel insisted she and the guy she’s dating come to dinner with us too.
I shake Daniel’s hand awkwardly when we get to the restaurant. I can never tell if that’s what I’m supposed to do or if I’m supposed to hug him. Ginger snorts with amusement and I ignore her and let Daniel make the introductions.
Christopher’s handshake is as warm and genuine as his expression. He’s got bright red hair, freckles, and a boyish smile. Everything about him seems friendly and nonthreatening, and I find myself wondering if Ginger eats him alive.
I expected the restaurant Daniel chose to be kind of snobby, but Little Nonna’s is a small Italian bistro with brick walls, mismatched table settings, and a view to the kitchen. The waiter leads us down a twisting hallway and out onto a back patio where there are larger tables. There are barrels of wine stacked at one side and what look like vintage aprons tacked on the wall amid strings of twinkly lights.
“This is nice,” Rafe says, looking around.
“Christopher knows one of the chefs,” Ginger says as she and Christopher slide into the table across from each other. I’m trying to figure out what configuration will be the least awkward. Daniel’s looking around at the table, seemingly as baffled as I am. Rex finally takes the chair next to Ginger, but instead of sliding onto the bench across from him, Daniel sits down next to him. I must wait too long because Rafe just slides in next to Christopher and gives me a weird look.
We all sit in awkward silence as the waiter comes up and pours our water. Then Ginger shrugs and says, “So, Colin’s gay now, we all have boyfriends, and Colin and Daniel are friends. Who’da thought?”
My face turns hot at once, and I want to kick her under the table, but Daniel just laughs and goes, “Right?” like he was thinking the same thing.
“Hey, did you ever invite Sam?” Daniel asks me.
“Yeah, I asked him at work.” I hesitate and Daniel rolls his eyes.
“Dude, it’s not like it could be worse than what I’ve heard from you guys my whole life.” Rex puts his hand on the back of Daniel’s neck. “I just—uh, sorry—just… what’d he say?”
“He said, ‘I’ll just let you two hang out since you have so much in common now.’”
“Has he been… shitty to you?” Daniel asks.
“Nah, he’s been fine at work. Normal. But every time… like, when I said you were moving back, he was just kind of whatever about it.”
Daniel sniffs. I used to think that sniff was him being prissy, but I’ve realized it’s one more of the things he does when he’s trying not to show he’s hurt.
“Yeah,” he says, “well, he didn’t care before; why would he now?”
“I think maybe he’s just being grouchy ’cause he’s got his own shit going on at home,” I say. I’m not sure if Sam would want me to tell Daniel this, but Sam’s not here, so…. “He and Liza were trying to have a baby and she had a miscarriage.”
“Oh shit,” Daniel says. “That’s awful.”
We make polite small talk about Daniel’s job and about the shop, though I stop myself from going into detail when Daniel’s eyes start to take on the faraway look they always got when Pop or me, Brian, and Sam would talk about sports and cars. Instead, I tell them about Ricky, who’s started working with me.
“She’s awesome. She’s this kid from YA—uh, the Youth Alliance—and she’s a genius with cars. She asked me some question about a carburetor once, for a science project or something, so I brought her to the shop to show her. She’s just…. She loves it, man. She’s so into it, so I asked her if she wanted a job and she jumped on it. She’s… not autistic….” I look at Rafe for the right description.
“She was born addicted to meth, and some symptoms that are on the autism spectrum go with that.”
“She’s just kind of vacant with people, but she’s amazing. Dude,” I say to Daniel, “remember when Pop would open the hood and have us see if we could guess what was wrong?” Daniel nods, a slightly pained expression on his face. “Well, asking Ricky’s like running a human diagnostic. She inputs all the stuff that’s wrong and she remembers every detail about the make and model’s system and she, like, spits out the most likely scenario. She can’t really talk to customers, but who cares.”
Rex looks at me consideringly. “It’s great that you gave her a chance even though she isn’t… great with people,” he says, his voice low. I remember Daniel telling me he used to be really shy. I didn’t notice it at first since he throws up such a protective vibe, but I can definitely see that shyness tonight.
Ginger’s telling a story about a client who came to her shop today when there’s an obscenely loud sound of something vibrating against wood. Daniel jumps, jerking out of his chair, and fishes a battered flip phone out of his pocket.
“Jesus Christ, sorry, guys. I thought it was on silent.” He shakes his head, looking awkward as he sits down. Then he flips open the phone and gets a kind of puppy-dog look on his face. “Aw, poor Leo—sorry, Ginge.”
“Ooh, what’s the latest in the tale of our young bizarro Daniel?” she asks. “Daniel made friends with this kid in Michigan who’s basically exactly like he was as a teenager,” she says to me with a wink, as if she assumes I know what she’s talking about.
“Poor Leo,” Daniel says, shaking his head in amusement. “He’s, like… how would you explain it?” he asks Rex. Rex thinks about it for a minute before saying anything, like he and Daniel are alone.
“He’s exactly who he seems to be,” Rex says finally. Daniel nods, like this is exactly right, but I have no idea what that means.
“Yeah, there’s no mask or anything. He’s guileless,” Daniel says, seemingly satisfied with that description.
Rex shakes his head.
“Oh,” Daniel says, “yeah, he’s totally genuine—like you said. So he’s just really easy to hurt, I guess. Vulnerable. You know?”
“That is just like you, then,” I say.
Daniel looks surprised. “What? No! What?” He looks between me and Rex. Rex gives him this barely there smile, but the way he’s looking at Daniel… it’s like there’s a whole history behind it. Daniel blushes and looks down, mumbling something I can’t make out.
“Um, anyway, he’s only eighteen—no, nineteen now, I guess—and he’s got this huge crush on Rex’s friend… ex-boyfriend, really,” he says, his nose wrinkling in distaste.
I shoot Rafe a look to say Why the hell do we care about this shit? but he gives me that stern eyebrow raise that means “You’re being a dick,” so I just shut up and listen.
“Will. And Will’s—how old’s Will, twenty-six?” Rex nods. “They met in Michigan when Will was visiting his sister, but Will lives in New York. Anyway, Leo was devastated when he left and I guess they kissed…. Leo’s very secretive about what actually happened.” Daniel trails off like he’s trying to put a bunch of pieces together and has distracted himself by doing it. “I don’t know,” Daniel muses finally, “maybe when Leo goes to school in New York….”
“I don’t think so, baby,” Rex says softly. Daniel shrugs and leans into him.
When the waiter comes to take our order, Daniel and Rex are whispering, pointing to things on the menu like they’re planni
ng a covert military action or something, and then Daniel orders for both of them.
Once the food comes, things are a little less awkward. Daniel starts leaning over Rex to answer Ginger’s questions about when he starts teaching at Temple and something about Christopher’s cousin, so Daniel and Rex switch seats.
“Daniel was telling me that you built the cabin you guys live in,” Rafe says to Rex, who’s paying a lot of attention to finishing Daniel’s plate of spaghetti and meatballs.
“Yeah,” he says. “Well, not from scratch. It was… it was going to be torn down, so I started working on it. I saved what I could, but it was kind of a mess.”
“Do you know where you want to live in Philly?”
“Um, well, I’m not real familiar with things here,” Rex says, “but—”
“That’s bullshit,” Daniel interrupts, tuning back in to the conversation. “Rex took one look at the map and knew the city in, like, ten minutes.”
“Well,” Rex says, shaking his head, but he’s smiling a little, so maybe it’s true. “We were talking about… is it called Fishtown?” he asks Daniel, who nods.
“Yeah, there are all these converted industrial spaces—like, living space over what used to be an ironworks or a welding place. So Rex could turn that space into his workshop. We’re looking at some more places tomorrow.”
Rex nods and then starts eating again, clearly uncomfortable being the center of attention.
“You know,” Christopher says, “I have some friends who are opening a bar near my shop and they’re looking to do custom built-ins. A bar, some shelves, a few booths. I wonder if you could talk to them about putting in a bid for the work?”
Rex’s head snaps up and he nods immediately. “Yeah. Yes. That’d be great. I could do that. Do you… they’d want a… formal bid, I suppose?” His eyes dart to Daniel, who just smiles.
“I think you could probably talk with them first, then write down whatever you agreed on later,” Daniel says.
Rex lets out a breath and nods. “Thanks, Christopher. That’d be great. Really great.”
“Rex,” Rafe says, “I know you’ll have your hands full, with your work and moving and a new city and everything, but if you ever have some free time, maybe you’d want to run a workshop at YA? I know the kids would love to learn some carpentry and woodworking. It would need to be stuff that isn’t too dangerous, but if they got permission slips….”
I squeeze Rafe’s knee. It’s not surprising to me at all that he’d be thinking of ways to help the kids even though he can’t work at YA anymore.
Rex looks a little anxious, but he smiles. “Yeah, I—I think I could probably do that.” He turns to Daniel. “It’ll give me something to do while you’re hanging out at Ginger’s shop.”
“Yeah, seriously, babycakes,” Ginger says, “I’ve missed out on, like, a whole year of you, so you’d better be ready to hang hard.”
Christopher says, “Yeah, I don’t know what I’ll do when these two kick me out. Maybe I can come hang out at YA too?”
“Maybe,” Rafe says. “What do you have to offer?”
“Um. I make sandwiches.” It’s clear Christopher’s joking, but in the pause that follows, I can almost hear Rafe scouring every last corner of his mind to think of how he can translate that into anything but a workshop that would imply he thought the kids were going to work at McDonald’s someday.
“Well,” he finally says, “you could just volunteer to supervise programs they’ve already got running.”
“I can supervise with the best of them,” Christopher says, smiling. Ginger snorts.
“What? I can!”
“Yeah, sure, babe. That wasn’t you the other day totally letting your cousin walk all over you. And you definitely don’t let your employees get away with showing up late and taking extra time off.”
“Okay, okay,” he says, “so I’m a lenient boss.”
“It’s no way to run a business,” Ginger says, her eyes narrowed intensely, like probably this isn’t the first time they’ve had this conversation.
“I think I’m doing fine,” Christopher says, his tone lazy. He leans back, looks her up and down, and winks at her. “Yup, I’m doing just fine.”
I swear, if there wasn’t a table between them, they’d be making out right now.
“Um,” I say, desperate to change the subject, “did you see Brian since you’ve been back?” Brian’s guilt over the way he—we—treated Daniel growing up was out of control for a while. He kept calling Daniel to apologize. So often that I think eventually Daniel just told him he forgave him to stop the incessant phone calls. After which, Brian showed up at my door one evening and was so relieved that he didn’t even notice Rafe, just said, “Dude, it’s okay now!” and plopped his ass down on the sofa with the remote while Rafe and I eyed each other over his head.
“Yeah, I went by there last night.” When Daniel heard that Brian was looking to bartend, he put him in touch with his old boss. “Dude, he’s wrecked!”
“Huh?”
“That girl? Callie?”
“Oh yeah.”
“So, Brian fell for this girl he met, like, once,” Daniel tells Ginger and Christopher. “And he blurted out that he loved her over the phone, so obviously she freaked.”
“Obviously,” Ginger agrees.
“But now they’re dating and he’s all… mushy.”
“Mushy?” I ask. I haven’t seen Brian at work much since he’s not in the shop anymore. He’s still living in the house, though. The mortgage was paid off and Pop’s insurance money was enough to get Brian through a few months of expenses before his job turned full-time.
“Yeah, he’s all… squishy about it. He was talking about buying her… something, and I don’t know. He’s kind of an incoherent storyteller; have you noticed?” Daniel asks me.
“Um. Not really. Well, when he said the thing about puking on her cat, I was a little thrown, but—”
“He puked on her cat?” Ginger says so loudly that everyone turns to look at our table. She just gives them a grin and ignores it.
“He… yeah.”
“And cat is a euphemism for…?” Ginger asks me.
“No, he vomited on her pet cat,” Daniel explains. “I know, I know, it’s better the other way.” Ginger pouts and nods. “Anyway, he was basically raving. I think he might do something insane like propose in a hot air balloon or… with skywriting or whatever. He’s out of his mind.”
“So, what are you going to do?” Rafe asks us.
“Uh, about what?” I say.
“Brian.” Rafe looks at Daniel this time, but Daniel just raises his eyebrows and looks from side to side, like a kid who got called on in class but doesn’t know the answer.
“Um….”
Daniel and I look at each other for clarification, but we both shake our heads.
It’s like a scene in a movie where everyone has a gun pointed at someone else: we’re all silently looking around, all sure we’ve misunderstood. Finally, Rex and Rafe lock eyes and both start to laugh. It’s Rafe’s real, genuine laugh, not his polite, on-my-best-behavior laugh, and Rex has this low, warm chuckle. Rafe kind of gestures between me and Daniel and they nod. Daniel and I look at each other blankly and they laugh even harder.
The kids are jammed together in the gazebo that they’ve decorated with streamers and glittery feather boas for Mikal’s birthday. Dorothy sees us first and waves. She jabs Mischa, who jabs Carlos, who spins around and yells, “Conan! Winchester!” as the others scramble toward us.
“Ow!” Mischa says as someone elbows her to get to us.
Rafe is grinning hugely as they all jump on us and start talking at once. When Mikal texted me to invite us to the party, Rafe was clearly thrilled but he talked all this shit about it not being appropriate for us to go, clearly wanting me to talk him into it. When I told him he was being an idiot and of course we should go, he looked relieved and agreed in about five seconds.
What I didn’t
tell him was that they were having the party in a park at the Wissahickon even though it was still kind of chilly outside precisely so he could come, because when Mikal had asked for permission to have the party at the YA, it was made clear to him that Rafe was not, under any circumstances, allowed on the premises.
“Happy birthday,” Rafe finally says to Mikal, who’s decked out in an entirely glittered outfit—sparkly leggings and a T-shirt with a print that looks like an Easter card of a pastel kitten that’s covered in rhinestones. His eye makeup is glittery. He even has glittery shoelaces in his purple Keds.
“Yaaaay!” Mikal says, bouncing on his toes. “You’re here! We’re just waiting for—”
Mikal breaks off as a guy I’ve never seen before walks up, hands in his pockets, looking around suspiciously. He looks older than the other kids and he’s limping a little.
“—Philip, yay!” Mikal calls out, bouncing over to the new guy and drawing him into the circle. “Philip, this is Rafe and Colin.”
We shake his hand, but he doesn’t quite make eye contact.
“Philip’s my new friend from school. You should totally start coming to YA,” he says to Philip. The guy doesn’t say anything, but he keeps his eyes on Mikal.
“Okay,” Mischa says, clapping her hands together like a camp counselor. “The stations are: sponge-painting T-shirts at this table and nail polish at that table. And snacks and drinks are right here. Go for it!” Then she pushes a button and disturbingly upbeat music pours out of speakers plugged into her phone.
“Omigod, Colin, can I please paint your nails. I see you in purple—maybe a purple ombré?” Mikal’s looking up at me, his eyes bright.
“I—um, well… I—” I look to Rafe, who seems totally relaxed and amused by this turn of events.
“It’s his birthday” is all Rafe says, smiling at me warmly.
“What’s wrong with you?” Dorothy says to Mikal. “He doesn’t want that.” I take a deep breath and turn to Dorothy in relief, ready to give her whatever she wants for getting me out of it. “Look at what he’s wearing! It’s gotta be gray. Ooh, maybe use the crackle topcoat,” she says, nudging Mikal with her shoulder. Then she looks up at me and winks, nodding. I shoot her a look and she just laughs and goes to the sponge-painting station.