A Charm of Finches

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A Charm of Finches Page 14

by Suanne Laqueur


  “When does it release?”

  “Tomorrow morning,” Jav said. “And Saturday afternoon, I’ll be drunk on an airplane, kicking off a three-week signing tour.”

  “What’s the itinerary?” Stef kept his face neutral, thinking three weeks?

  “Miami first,” Jav said. “Atlanta, Charleston, Raleigh, Virginia Beach, DC, Baltimore, Philadelphia, Providence… I’m forgetting something before Providence. Boston, somewhere else I think, then home.”

  “Your agent coordinate all this?”

  “Publicist.”

  “Is she good?”

  “She’s expensive. And so far, good.”

  “Does she come with you?”

  “Oh God, yeah. She tells me what to do.”

  Stef pictured a young, nubile PR rep with mile-long legs, telling Jav exactly what to do. “Is she cool?”

  “For a sixty-two-year-old woman, she’s extremely cool.”

  Stef laughed, mostly at himself. “What are the venues? Book stores?”

  “Yeah. Some just signings, some will be readings.”

  “Nervous?”

  Jav paused, taking a deep breath. “Yeah.”

  “I predict by Charleston, it’ll be easy.”

  “Here’s hoping.”

  Stef’s beer arrived and they clinked glasses. “To the next phase of your career.”

  They drank.

  “So your card says Javier Landes,” Stef said. “Your book covers say Gil Rafael. Who’s the real you?”

  “Technically neither. I was born Javier Gil deSoto. I left home when I was seventeen and became estranged from my family. The woman who eventually became my mentor, her name was Gloria Landes. I changed my name to hers when… Well, that’s a story for the third or fourth date.”

  “Is this a date?”

  Jav barked a laugh. “No. It’s just a line.”

  Satisfied now? Stef thought. Let it fucking go already. “Who’s Gil Rafael?”

  “Rafael was my dad’s name. It was literally a spur-of-the-moment decision. I was submitting a short story to The New Yorker, I wanted a pen name. I took Rafael and the Gil part of my original surname and put it together. Then at the last minute, I reversed them. Gil Rafael. And that’s who I’ve been writing as since.”

  “Why use a pen name at all?”

  Jav took a drink and stared straight ahead.

  “Or is it for date six or seven?”

  Jav glanced sideways and his shy smile opened up. “It’s no one asking me before, actually. Not even sure what the answer is.”

  “Were you hiding?”

  “Kind of. Or maybe if I bombed, no one would know but me.”

  “Same if you succeeded.”

  Jav nodded. “I guess I was okay with that.”

  “Are you still estranged from your family?”

  “Sadly, my nephew and I are the only Gil deSotos left.”

  “This is the nephew at New Paltz?”

  “Ari. He’s my sister’s son. Until two years ago, neither of us knew the other existed. But when my sister died, she named me his guardian. And we met.”

  “What was that like?”

  “Surreal,” Jav said. “But he’s a great kid. I’d think so even if I weren’t related to him. I doubt I’ll be having any kids of my own at this point, so it’s like finding a son. No. Not really. More like finding a little brother.”

  “I see.”

  “You have siblings?”

  “Two older brothers.”

  “Are you close?”

  “Not particularly.”

  The bartender came by. “You guys hungry?”

  Stef and Jav exchanged glances.

  “I haven’t eaten,” Jav said.

  “Me neither.”

  The bartender slid over some menus.

  “You’re not close with your brothers?” Jav said, perusing his.

  Stef smiled. “I’ll tell you about it on date nineteen.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “Short version is my parents divorced when I was thirty. If divorce is tough on young kids, it makes adult children into total lunatics. It resulted in a lot of sides being taken and a lot of bitterness.”

  “Gotcha.”

  “It also didn’t help that my mother left my dad for another woman.”

  “Shut up.”

  “It was a blurry year in my life. Going through my own divorce made it even more hazy.”

  Jav gave him a long, appraising look. “I think we’re gonna need a bigger bar.”

  Stef laughed. Through another two rounds of beers and burgers, they laughed a lot, trading bits of stories, asking and answering questions. Even it if wasn’t a date, it still felt like a really good first date. The kind that made you wonder when the next one would be. Keeping a running tab of the things they’d talk about at a later time made Stef optimistic this wasn’t a one-off.

  Except the three-week tour was going to delay next time. Damn it all to hell.

  “Crap, I gotta get going,” Jav said, checking his watch. “I got eight thousand things to do.”

  “Who watches the dog while you’re away?”

  “I have a neighbor who dog sits, but not for this length of time. I’m going to drive him up to Guelisten, leave him with some friends. Trelawney Lark’s sister, actually.”

  “How did you meet her?”

  Jav pointed the neck of his beer bottle at Stef. “Dude, you have no idea how complicated that story is.”

  Stef raised his eyebrows. “Date sixty-two?”

  “At minimum.”

  “Are you keeping track of what gets talked about when?”

  Jav tapped the beer bottle against his temple. “I got this.”

  “Well, good luck,” Stef said, after they squared up and headed outside. “You’ll have to sign my copy of The Trade when you get back. If your hand isn’t paralyzed.”

  “My nightmare is nobody shows up.”

  “Dude, not to cheapen your talent, but if you stand in the middle of Barnes & Noble, they’ll show up.”

  Jav chuckled at the ground, scraping at the pavement with his foot. “Buddy of mine once described me as a marketing man’s wet dream.”

  “He was right.”

  Jav looked about to say something, then stopped.

  “What?” Stef said, crossing his arms.

  “Nothing. I’ll call you when I get back.”

  “Give me a call from the road,” Stef said, he hoped casually. “If you want.”

  “Sure.”

  “All right. Knock ’em dead.”

  They shook hands, touched right shoulders and bopped each other on the back. Then walked off in separate directions.

  After six steps, Stef ventured a look back. Just as Jav looked back. They each raised a palm before turning away again.

  Help, he texted Stavroula.

  Speaking, she replied.

  He called her. “I met a guy.”

  “You need help with this?”

  “I’m pretty sure he’s straight.”

  “Not one hundred percent sure?”

  “No.”

  “You want me to seduce him and report back?”

  “Cute,” Stef said, exhaling heavily as he waited on a red light. “Anyway he’s leaving tomorrow on a three-week thing.”

  “Where’d the evening end?”

  “We both kind of floated the idea we’d hang again. I got an ‘I’ll call you.’”

  “The kiss of death.”

  “You think?”

  “That’s just my experience.”

  “I got a look back as we walked away.”

  Stavroula laughed. “Oh my God, I’ve never seen you like this.”

  Me neither, Stef thought. “
Everything is really strange right now,” he said.

  “So talk to me. What do you need?”

  “I don’t know. Do I tell him I’m bi now or later?”

  “Hm. Think you’ll talk to him while he’s away?”

  “I have a hunch yes.”

  “Well, is he cool? You think if you tell him and he’s straight, it’ll be the end of everything? Even potential friendship?”

  “I have a hunch no. It’s really my own sanity I’m thinking of.”

  “Oh, if this is a sanity thing then tell him now. Otherwise you’ll create a big three-week buildup. He’ll come home, you’ll tell him and when he says he’s straight, it’ll be beyond a bummer.”

  “You could’ve said if, not when.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m off my optimism meds.”

  “No, you’re right. I’ll tell him now. Get it over with.”

  “I’ll be up late. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll assume it went well.”

  “Thanks, sis.”

  “Good luck.”

  He ended the call. But didn’t text Jav. He put it off and put it off.

  “Don’t be a pussy,” he muttered, and finally reached for his phone around eleven o’clock.

  So listen, he typed. Now that you’re going away for three weeks there’s something I need to throw out there.

  Jav replied almost immediately. Is it date 2 already?

  This is date 1-A.

  Sub-dates are a thing?

  Um, yeah. Where have you been?

  Out of touch, apparently. Fire away, then.

  Within the context of dates and joking about dates, I just want to mention I’m bisexual. So I’m not entirely joking.

  He almost hit send, then decided to barrel through to the end, send it in one fell swoop, then hurl his phone into the Hudson River. If I’m barking up the wrong tree, it’s cool. I just figured it’s better to be honest from the get-go. Anyway. That’s all for 1-A.

  “I hate everything,” he said through clenched teeth as he hit the button and burned the boat. He went in the bathroom and brushed his teeth, but when he returned to the counter, no reply had come in.

  “Shit, I blew it,” he mumbled. He leaned on his hands, head hung between, staring at the phone.

  The phone stared back.

  “Come on,” he said, closing his eyes. “Easy answer. Right tree or wrong tree. It doesn’t matter. It does but it doesn’t. I just want to know now.”

  The phone pinged.

  Stef opened his eyes.

  A picture was flashing on the phone’s screen. He blinked a few times before he realized it was a rope ladder dangling down from a tree branch.

  Stef stared, his mouth slowly falling open. “No way,” he said.

  A text popped up beneath the picture. Stop barking, you’ll wake the neighbors. Just come up.

  “No fucking way,” Stef breathed, picking up the phone. He typed LOL, because he couldn’t think of a damn thing else to say.

  I like this sub-date thing, Jav texted. Will there be a 1-B?

  I was planning to bring up my past convictions at 1-B but I could do it now.

  Better check with your parole officer.

  Good call. And nice tree, BTW.

  Thanks. It’s new.

  New?

  Really new.

  Stef blinked, not sure he was understanding. How long you been out?

  What time is it?

  Shut up.

  And here I was worried we wouldn’t have anything to talk about while I was on the road.

  “This isn’t happening,” Stef said, hitching up to sit on the counter. He looked around his apartment, around at his life, as if he’d walked into a surprise party. “This is not happening…”

  Jav rang the doorbell of Gloria Landes’ home in Riverdale. He didn’t wonder why, after twenty-odd years, he still rang. He liked to. Ringing her bell had changed his life. Now, as then, she opened it with a delighted expression and the same words she always spoke.

  “Jav, darling. How wonderful you came.”

  He was still called Javier Gil deSoto the first time he stepped over this threshold. Twenty-one and broke, living hand-to-mouth in a minuscule studio in Washington Heights. Gloria found him tending bar at a wedding. She offered him a business proposition with an open-ended contract. She said with his looks and the way he behaved with women, he could make a lot of money.

  He didn’t trust many people at that time in his life. But he trusted this woman. She groomed him. Literally taught him everything he knew about being a champion date and a professional lover.

  And he made a shit-ton of money.

  Gloria went on to guide him through his early writing career. She encouraged him to submit “Bald” to The New Yorker, and then helped him negotiate the sale of the movie rights. Rarely a week went by when he didn’t spend a well-paid, enjoyable night in Gloria’s bed. After 9/11, though, their sexual relationship ended. When Jav lost Flip, he found in Gloria the one person who loved him unconditionally. The woman who had taken him in when his own people cast him out. He went to court and legally changed his surname to Landes. He would never think of her as his mother. He chose her name because it was the thing he respected most in the world.

  “So,” Gloria said, as they sat in her study with coffee. “You leave tomorrow. Are you excited?”

  “Excited and terrified,” Jav said.

  “Excellent combination. I highly recommend it.”

  “I usually do what you recommend.”

  Gloria smiled at her protégé. “It’s going to be fantastic. I’m thrilled for you. And proud. You dropped Roman off with the Larks?”

  “This morning.”

  “What was that like?”

  “Quick.”

  “Quick?”

  “I said hello, how are you, thank you for doing this. Val said no problem, good luck, have a great time, keep us posted. And we said goodbye.”

  “Sounds cold.”

  “No, it wasn’t cold, it was just…quick.”

  “Well, you did sleep with her husband.”

  “I didn’t sleep with him,” Jav said.

  “I’m sorry, let me rephrase,” Gloria said. “You did kiss and grope naked with her husband.”

  “When you call me out on my bad decisions, at least get the details right.”

  “I take it you didn’t see Alex in this fast transaction?”

  “No.”

  Gloria set her cup down. “You miss him.”

  It wasn’t a question.

  “Yes, I do,” he said. “In other news, I met someone.”

  Gloria’s eyebrows raised. “Is he married?”

  Jav pointed a finger. “Now you’re being mean to me.”

  “Well?”

  “No, he isn’t married. Yes, he’s bi. And ironically, after we’ve established mutual interest, I’m the one getting on an airplane this time.”

  The teasing fell out of Gloria’s expression and her hand dropped onto Jav’s knee. “I won’t tell you not to think about it,” she said.

  Jav shook his head, eyes closed. “I have no idea what I’m thinking. Or doing or feeling.”

  “I think you’re feeling the sadness of an ending and excitement of a beginning, like any human being would.”

  “Am I making it too complicated?”

  “A little. But you only just became an amateur lover. You’re bound to make mistakes, just like you did when you were learning to be a professional.”

  “Thing is, I always had you to cover my gaffes.”

  She laughed. “I can’t whisper in your ear through this one.”

  “I like this guy and I feel like I need to be careful. Careful I’m not digging him just because he’s hot and built and the first guy I’m free to pursu
e.”

  “Those are perfect reason to dig him.”

  “Are they?”

  Gloria’s eyes rolled around the room. “Javier.”

  “See, I’m an idiot.”

  “You’re scared and playing the idiot card. It’s not attractive.”

  “Fine, I’m smart, but I’m new at this so I’m bound to be a little dumb. I’m only starting to figure out who I am as a non-escort.”

  “Have you told him about your former career yet?”

  “No.” He glanced at her. “Is it one of those sooner-rather-than-later things?”

  She nodded. “I’d put it on the table while it’s early.”

  “You’re right. As usual.”

  “Often wrong, never in doubt.”

  “Which is why I love you.”

  She opened her arms. He rolled his eyes a little, but fell sideways and allowed himself a long, indulgent sigh on her shoulder. She stroked his hair and they sat, quiet and still within their pure, unwavering adoration of each other.

  “I owe so much to you,” he said. “I don’t know what my life would’ve been like if you hadn’t come along.”

  “I feel the same way. And I still want so much for you.”

  “I’ll find it.”

  “You will. Let me do the worrying for you, all right? I’m better at it.”

  “Deal. I won’t panic until you do.”

  “Just be prepared not to find love on the first try,” she said. “Love doesn’t always play nice. Love plays games you haven’t had to deal with before. Love is going to serve up a buffet of emotions you neatly avoided for decades.”

  “I know,” Jav said. “And love isn’t going to leave me an envelope on the mantel for my troubles.”

  That night, Jav prayed. Something he hadn’t done formally in years. On his knees at the side of his bed, fingers clasped by his open suitcase and head touching his crossed thumbs. Beseeching the god of his childhood with one simple request.

  Let me come home alive.

  No plane crashes, no hotel fires, no freak accidents.

  The gamut of disasters he envisioned would be laughable if the breathless hope squeezing his heart weren’t so damn familiar. Last night, when he looked over his shoulder to see Stef looking back at him, the joyful anticipation that socked him in the gut was both exhilarating and haunting. This was the edge he’d been standing on exactly six years ago, watching Flip Trueblood leave his apartment. Flip looked back from the door, eyes glazed, smile goofy across a mouth swollen from Jav’s kisses. Young and sexy and vulnerable, with less than twelve hours left to live.

 

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