His mother turned to his brother and he could almost sense everyone at the table stop chewing their food.
“Murray,” she said brightly. “When are you going to bring home a nice girl like Jori?”
Murray scooted his chair closer to Hadad’s and draped his arm over his shoulder. “Don’t hold your breath.”
“I want more grandchildren.” She busied herself with the corn casserole to avert her eyes from the unseemly display. “My friend Annette from Pilates class has five already and I can’t stand her yapping about how wonderful they are.”
“Maybe Axel will give you more grandchildren,” Murray said with a brotherly smirk. Murray knew the score. He wouldn’t come right out and out him to their parents, but he never wasted an opportunity to make him squirm.
Axel scowled at him. He didn’t mind taking his share of the parental heat, but Jori shouldn’t have to, especially when she already had her hands full with Baylee and was doing an excellent job taking care of her all by herself, never demanding anything of him, leaving him free to live his life. If she had a second or third kid, that might change. But his mother didn’t see it that way. She saw it as her job to push her sons to pass on their DNA, which she thought of as her DNA, which was of course better than anyone else’s DNA and therefore urgently deserving of life regardless of how many needy mouths they had already spawned.
Parenthood. Ugh. Baylee was cute when she was well-behaved, but two hours a week was about all he could stand.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Mom,” Axel said. “I never said we were getting married.”
“That didn’t stop you the first time,” his mother said.
Murray snorted. “Can we talk about my sex life next?”
“Yes, let’s,” Axel said. “I’m sure my five-year-old daughter would love to hear it.”
“She’s four,” Jori corrected.
“I’d love to hear it,” Baylee piped up.
“It’s exciting stuff, Baylee.” Murray swished his shoulders, which never failed to make their generally silent father cringe and order him to knock it off.
“Knock it off,” their father said, right on cue.
Murray did it again, swishing his shoulders in a way that was possibly even more gay than the first time. “But not as exciting as watching your grandmother pressure your parents to get it on before they get married.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Murray,” their mother said. “Axel and Jori will…” Cough, cough. “…marry…” Cough. “…when they’re ready. It’s you I’m worried about.”
“Of course it is,” Murray said.
“Which is why,” his mother continued, “I have arranged a date for you with a nice young lady I met in Pilates class.”
“I’m not going on a date with her, Mother. I’m with Hadad.”
“I’m not telling you to break things off with Hadad. You can just…live separately.”
“You want me to marry this girl and keep Hadad on the side? This is more acceptable to you than me being gay?”
“You’re the one who insists on having a man in your life,” his mother said.
“Let’s talk about something else,” his father suggested. “Shall we?”
“Murray, I’m giving you the girl’s phone number,” his mother said. “You can at least meet her. For me.”
“No.” Murray clasped Hadad’s hand, raised it above the table where everyone could see, and kissed it.
“Knock it off,” his father growled, stabbing a hunk of steak and chewing hard.
Axel was afraid to look at his mother’s face. She always tried to seat someone between Murray and Hadad—presumably because she disapproved of their relationship and not because she imagined there might be hand-holding or worse under the table—but most of the time Murray rebelled and picked up his chair and squeezed in next to his boyfriend and forced everyone to scoot over to accommodate him, giving no thought to their mother’s blood pressure.
“Gu—Jori and I went to the gym yesterday,” Axel said loudly, trying to draw his mother’s attention away from Murray, who was rubbing his thumb over Hadad’s hand and looked like he might be about to suck on his fingers next. Murray did not know when to quit. “We were lifting weights and he—she—” Man, he had to do a better job watching those pronouns, or his mother would have a stroke. One gay son was already more than she could handle. Why was he screwing this up tonight? You’d think the word she would roll off his tongue after all this time, but thinking about Gus at the gym in all his masculine glory—well, not all his masculine glory—and what a sight that was—tripped up his brain.
It would be easier to not say anything and not tell any of his stories, but he was too much of a talker to stay mute for long. So he switched pronouns. And pretended to his mother that Jori was Gus. And pretended he didn’t see Murray and Hadad roll their eyes at him from across the table for being a coward. Besides, how could he convince his mother of his faux relationship without providing details?
Axel began his story again. “We were lifting weights, weren’t we, Jori, darling?”
Jori put her fork down with a noticeable clink. “Can we back off on the mushy terms of endearment?”
Great. Now Jori was annoyed. He kept a wary eye on her elbow. “Whatever you say, darling.”
Jori kicked him underneath the tablecloth. A small grunt of pain somehow escaped his throat. He covered the embarrassing sound with a manly, hacking cough.
Jori looked down her nose at him. “You were saying?”
His mother smiled indulgently at them both and exchanged a glance with his father. Maybe Jori was right about her theory that acting like they hated each other made their relationship more believable. It certainly seemed to be working on his mother.
“Do tell,” Murray said, failing to acknowledge Axel’s masterful redirection of their mother’s focus and saving Murray’s sorry ass from further maternal questioning. It had to make Murray crazy that they could almost hear her counting down the days until the anticipated engagement with the nice girl from Pilates he hadn’t even met. “What fascinating thing happened at the gym yesterday with Jori?” He leaned hard on Jori’s name, harder than necessary.
Axel glared at him, sorely tempted to toss him his own version of his brother’s patented shoulder swish, but the impulse passed before he did something he’d regret.
“Jori works out.” Anyone with an ounce of intelligence could see that neither one of them fit the scrawny, scarecrow-ish accountant stereotype.
“With you?” Murray said.
Axel ignored him and continued his story. “Jori was spotting me on a bench press when this guy brushes past her and mumbles a suggestion to meet him in the locker room. I nearly dropped my barbell. I mean, he hit on her right in front of me. I was right there. I could hear him.”
“The nerve of that man,” said their mother. “And did he really expect you to follow him into the men’s, Jori?”
“I think he did.” Jori smiled. She seemed to be enjoying herself. “Unbelievable, isn’t it?”
“I’ll say,” Murray drawled. “I’m certainly finding it hard to believe.”
“I tried to turn him down gently,” Jori said.
“Actually, she told him to fuck off,” Axel said.
Jori coughed in surprise. “I did, didn’t I?” She pounded on her chest like something had gone down the wrong way. “I am such a good girlfriend.”
“Are you choking?” his mother asked her.
“I’m okay.” Jori gave herself another few thumps on the chest and excused herself from the table, still coughing.
“Axel, did you infect her with that horrible cough of yours? I want you to take some of my Echinacea cough drops home with you.”
His-and-her fake coughing fits. Why hadn’t he ever thought of that? It was perfect, just the right amount of commotion to make everyone forget about his dumb weightlifting
story before they realized it really didn’t make any sense.
Jori was the best faux girlfriend he ever had.
* * *
Jori rushed through the door into the classroom where her Information Technology for Accounting exam was being held and slid into the seat next to Axel’s. She’d have to relocate farther away once the exam began, but the proctor hadn’t even arrived yet.
“When are you going to talk to Professor Walston?” she whispered, leaning close so the other students trickling in wouldn’t overhear.
“Soon.”
“I don’t have forever.”
“I’ll get around to it.”
“They’re going to expel me if you don’t say something,” she hissed into his ear.
He jerked away, holding up a hand to ward her off. What did he think she was going to do, lick his ear? Gross.
She gripped the back of his seat and kept her face in his personal space. “I did my part, Axel. Now you do yours.”
“Okay, okay.”
“Today.”
“Only if you promise to be my date at my cousin’s wedding.”
Jori wanted to kick him. Obviously she’d done too good a job of being nice to his mother. It was good for Baylee to spend time with her grandparents, and lying to them was actually kind of fun, in a sick sort of way, especially when they started slinging the anti-gay bullshit. But that didn’t mean she didn’t expect Axel to respect the terms of their blackmail agreement.
“Being your date at your cousin’s wedding was not part of our deal.”
“You’re my girlfriend. My girlfriend has to be there.” Axel slid down in his seat and sprawled out with his long legs and ape-like arms. “No wedding, no deal.”
Jerk. She should have known he was ethically challenged. “When’s the wedding?”
“End of the summer.”
“I’ll have to check my calendar.”
“You do that.”
“I’m not going to date you indefinitely, you know.” She felt one of their classmates in their row staring at them, but whatever.
“My mother signed me up for ‘learn to dance at your wedding’lessons at the dance studio in town. You should attend those, too.”
“Dance lessons.” She gave him the evil eye. As soon as he talked to their professor and cleared her name, she was going to put a stop to all these extra conditions.
“Unless you already know how to foxtrot?”
“Do I look like someone who knows how to foxtrot?”
“How would I know?” Axel muttered something under his breath about women never answering the damn question. “Yes or no?”
She was glad he was annoyed. He deserved to be annoyed for not holding up his end of the bargain. “No.”
“Sassafras Dance Studio. Fridays at seven. Be there.”
“Fine. But keep this up and we may not be friends after this is over.”
Axel shrugged, apparently unwilling to show concern over the fate of their friendship. “Ballroom dance is a useful skill. You’ll thank me for this one day.”
“Don’t count on it.”
Chapter Six
Jori was at the shallow end of the pool hauling a lane divider out of the water in preparation for water aerobics class when the sound of a guest skittering on the slate floor in pool-inappropriate shoes made her glance over. The tight strip of black leather that was meant to be a skirt exposed more bare thigh than she’d seen in her bedroom in far too long, but it was so miniscule that the woman didn’t dare take anything but the tiniest trotting steps. She couldn’t imagine how uncomfortable that had to be. Women were meant to move, not be trapped by their clothes.
Whatever. Axel had finally talked to their professor and convinced him not to kick her out of the program, and no belt masquerading as a skirt was going to distract her from savoring her victory. He’d done it. And she didn’t have to take his word for it—Walston had called her into his office to assure her she was in the clear.
The visitor continued to the far end of the pool where Rae, as usual, was doing her deep-water jogging and yawning. It was too early for sunbathers and there was no one else around, just Rae at one end of the pool and Jori at the other, so when the woman stopped and relaxed against the wrought-iron fence that marked the limits of the extensive patio and pool area, it was obvious that Rae was the one she was staring at.
Rae’s back was turned to them both, and she didn’t turn around, either not realizing or not caring that anyone was there. The woman in the leather skirt kept watching, waiting for Rae to notice her. After sixty, ninety seconds of being ignored, she shifted her weight so her breasts pushed subtly forward in Rae’s direction.
Jori wasn’t sure their visitor was even consciously aware of what she was doing, but she did not want to watch. It was tainting her happy morning.
So why was she? It was none of her business who Rae was friends with. If they were even friends. Jori coiled up the lane divider, lining up the floats with more attention than she usually bothered with. Maybe the woman didn’t know Rae at all. She looked familiar, actually. Could she be a confused guest looking for the aerobics instructor? Maybe she ought to check. “Can I help you?”
At the sound of Jori’s voice, Rae spun around. And spotted their visitor.
“Kaoli?” Rae stopped her endless water jogging and swam toward the mystery woman.
Kaoli. That was an unusual name. Was that…could it be…Kaoli Morgenroth? Oh my God, it was. Kaoli Morgenroth’s songs weren’t overplayed on the radio as often as they ought to be, but she was a huge star. Jori glanced behind her toward the entrance to the fenced-in area, and sure enough, there was a bulky man—a bodyguard?—standing by the gate acting jumpy. The singer must have ordered him to stay back, because he looked like he wanted to be pacing the perimeter, not lurking behind a potted rosebush.
Kaoli approached the edge of the pool and gazed down at Rae. “Griffin asked me why I had to come down here to check on you and I was like, Griffin! You’ll just have to deal.”
She looked different without the heavy stage makeup and her trademark leather duster billowing behind her, sweeping the backs of her knees. But her voice—her voice she recognized. It was the voice that had Jori and half the lesbian population swooning. What was she doing here? And how did Rae know her?
Jori realized she was staring and adjusted her floats, trying to play it cool. She might have to check out the parking lot later to see if there was a long, sleek tour bus with Kaoli Morgenroth’s name splashed across the side. That would be a fun thing to tell her friends about.
“We’re sleeping in different cities anyway, so what does he care if I’m in my tour bus heading for Atlanta or here in Nowheresville, Pennsylvania with you?”
Rae stopped a few feet from the star and treaded water. “You didn’t have to visit. That’s quite a detour.”
It was. Whatever city she’d started in, if it was anywhere near Atlanta, this swimming pool was not on the way.
Kaoli flicked her wrists dismissively. “There’s no reason I have to stick with the group. Most of the crew won’t even notice I ditched them until I’m back.”
Really? They wouldn’t notice their star was missing? A production the size of hers was sure to involve several buses to house the performers and crew and several more semitrucks to transport the stage sets, but still. She was the star. People probably kept track of her. Although as long as her performance schedule allowed it, maybe there was no reason she couldn’t take a side trip and catch up to the group later.
Or maybe she just did whatever the heck she wanted.
“You didn’t tell anyone?” Rae said.
“I told them I had a social event I couldn’t miss. I’m sure they thought I meant a party.”
“You couldn’t tell them the real reason?”
Kaoli leaned forward and teetered precariously close to the edge. “Did you know this dinky town you’ve hidden yourself
away in has its own airfield? I think they have to chase the cows off the runway before people can land.”
She had flown. Of course. She didn’t have time to divert her tour bus for a two-day roundtrip. That meant no splashy vehicle to gawk at.
“Convenient, though,” Kaoli said. “Because I need to talk to you. I have news.”
Kaoli wiggled excitedly and Rae drifted closer as if the wiggling was doing something for her. The only thing it was doing for Jori was pissing her off, closing her throat with something that felt remarkably like jealousy.
Was Kaoli flirting with Rae? As far as anyone knew, Kaoli had a boyfriend, but her vague comments on the topic of her sexuality fed rampant speculation. If she ever did come out, the lesbian community would welcome her with open arms.
Rae reached the side of the pool and clung to the coping with both hands. She could probably see up Kaoli Morgenroth’s skirt. Not that she would want to.
“It’s a secret, but…” Kaoli bent her knees and sat on her heels, balancing on her stilettos and challenging the stretch of her microskirt to get as close as possible to Rae’s ear. It was a miracle she didn’t fall into the water. She paused to glance in Jori’s direction, but with a turn of her head seemed to decide that the uninteresting pool employee wouldn’t hear. She was wrong about Jori’s auditory powers, though, because her voice was a lot louder than a whisper. Wouldn’t be surprising if her hearing had been damaged by years of giving concerts and she didn’t know the volume of her own voice anymore. “Griffin and I are getting married. The ceremony’s being held at a secret location in the Bahamas.”
Married? So much for the rumors. Unless she’d misheard the name? No, she was pretty sure she’d heard her say Griffin, and Griffin was a boy’s name. Too bad.
“Congratulations.” Rae didn’t sound particularly thrilled. “Griffin must be overjoyed. He’s been waiting for this a long time.”
He. Definitely a boy.
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