California Dreaming
Page 2
“Yeah,” I whispered, but my stomach was tied in knots.
Chapter 2
I snatched the car keys out of Zach’s hand. “I used to live here. I know the traffic. I’ll drive.”
“You haven’t live here for ten years, Mick. And you were younger and less grumpy.”
“No, I wasn’t.”
Zach gave me one of his trademark smirks together with a little lift of his dark eyebrows. “So you’ve always been this grumpy?”
“Pretty much.” I approached the numbered spot for Car 1212 in the rental lot. A ubiquitous white sedan awaited us. I clicked the button to pop the trunk. “Just put your suitcase back there and get in the passenger side.”
I had decided to rent a car for the duration rather than inconvenience my already grieving sister to come pick us up at LAX. We’d need to have a car to get around on our own while there anyway. I slung my suitcase into the trunk after Zach’s and headed for the driver’s side after closing it.
Once I pulled the car out of the lot and got on the road, I risked a glance at Zach, who was staring ahead, seemingly serenely.
“Are you really going to ask that flight attendant out?”
Zach shrugged. “Maybe. He was pretty cute. And his home base is Miami.”
“Even on funeral flights you’re picking up guys.”
“The flight wasn’t a funeral. And I didn’t pick him up. He slipped me his number.”
“Didn’t slip me his number,” I muttered.
He patted my leg. “You want his number? I can give it to you.”
“No,” I said quickly. “He’s not my type.”
“Hmm.” Zach sounded far too pensive. “What is your type? When was the last time you actually saw a guy, anyway?”
“I see guys.”
“Who?”
I slowed down to the almost crawl of the other cars on the 405. My sister’s place was in Santa Clarita, so we still had a somewhat long drive ahead of us. “That guy, um, Lennie.” It was true I had to drag his name up from the bowels of hell.
“Right,” Zach said, as though he actually remembered Lennie. “Thinning hair, glasses?”
“That’s him. He’s a shrink.”
“I don’t think you seeing a psychiatrist counts as a date.”
“Funny. I wasn’t seeing him. I mean I was. God, you’re impossible.”
Zach laughed and reached into a small bag in front of his seat and pulled out dark sunglasses, which he set upon his face. “How many Lennie dates?”
I tried to recall. The truth was they were all entirely unremarkable. “Five. Four. Five.”
He snorted. “Did he fuck you?”
“Jesus, Zach.”
“Oh, don’t get all prim and proper on me. Did he?”
“Er.”
“That means no.”
“He tried. He wasn’t successful.”
“Dysfunction?”
“Yep.” I shrugged. “I did get a rather sloppy blowjob out of it though.”
“All right,” Zach said. “Lennie sort of counts. Who else?”
“I don’t know. Jeez. You know I’m not like you.”
“I’m not asking you to be like me, Michael.”
I winced at his use of my full name. Zach used it whenever he was becoming annoyed with me. It wasn’t often, but when he did, I was usually in trouble. And it bothered the hell out of me.
“Don’t get all lawyerly on me and bombard me with questions like it’s the third degree,” I said. “I’ve dated. Not often. I’m picky.”
“No one compares to Joe?”
No one compares to you, I thought. But squelched the desire to blurt that out pretty quickly.
“I don’t compare anyone to Joe. Never have.”
“Okay.” He patted my leg again. “Lot of cars.”
“Total understatement.”
* * * *
My sister’s home was a two-story Spanish-mission style. Probably built less than twenty years ago and surrounded by other similar homes in a nice middle-class suburban area. I parked the rental car directly in front, sort of surprised at the lack of cars around her home, having thought she’d be inundated with friends and family visiting.
She was already standing at the front door waiting for us as we approached with our suitcases.
Raine’s hair was the same sandy-blonde shade as mine, but I recalled she had always referred to it as honey colored. Just now she had it up in a sort of knotted bun. She had the same deep-blue eyes as me, too. Currently hers were rimmed in red. She was, of course, about a foot shorter than my six feet. She came to about the middle of my chest. She’d always been quite pretty, if I did say so as her twin, and today she wore a severe-looking sheath dress in mourning black.
“Mickey,” she said softly, then held her arms out wide.
Though it felt awkward to do so, I went into her embrace readily enough. It was what people did when they’d suffered a loss, and though we hadn’t been close in years, we were still family.
I was surprised by the tightness of her hold on me even so. Once upon a time we’d been the closest of siblings, as twins often are, but that ship had sailed long ago. Or so I’d thought.
“I’m sorry,” I managed to whisper against her hair.
“Me, too.” Raine finally loosened her hold and released me to turn to Zach.
“This is Zach Covington. My sister, Raine.”
Zach gave her his hand. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you. Why don’t you guys come in? Your room’s on the second floor next to the girls’ room. Hope that’s okay.”
It hadn’t occurred to me until that moment that when I told Raine I was coming with Zach she might assume he was my boyfriend. I opened my mouth to tell her that Zach was just a friend and might prefer his own room.
“That’ll be fine, Raine. Thank you,” Zach spoke up for both of us.
We followed her up the stairs in the middle of the house, lugging our suitcases behind. I realized then that maybe Raine didn’t have any extra rooms other than the one she was giving to us, anyway, so it was probably smart of Zach to just thank her. I was so clueless of my sister’s current life I didn’t even know how many rooms she had in her house.
“How was your flight?” she asked, sort of vacantly.
“Fine.”
She pushed open a door, and we entered a decent-sized bedroom with a queen-size bed, a dresser, a desk and chair, and a walk-in closet.
“Joe’s grandmother used to use this room when she’d come to stay with us,” Raine explained. “She passed away two years ago. I hope this is okay?”
I vaguely recalled her mentioning Joe’s grandmother’s passing in one of her Christmas cards.
“It’s fine, Raine. Whatever you have, it’s fine.”
She nodded. “There’s a bathroom attached. That door.” She pointed. “You won’t have to share with the girls.”
“Okay,” I replied.
Raine hugged herself and lingered in the doorway. “When you’re finished getting settled, maybe you can come downstairs? Mommy and Daddy are there with the girls in the living room.”
It had been a long time since our parents had been Mommy and Daddy, but maybe Raine needed that right now.
“We’ll be right down,” I promised.
“Thank you for coming, Mickey,” she whispered and then turned and left, closing the door behind her.
“Um. Sorry,” I said to Zach.
“For what?”
“This.” I gestured to the room, especially the one bed. “I didn’t even think to mention you were just a friend. Didn’t think she’d—”
“Michael.”
“Yeah?”
“It’s fine. As far as I know you don’t have cooties. We’ll deal.”
“Okay. But first chance I get I’ll tell her we aren’t a couple.”
Zach shook his head and slung his suitcase onto the bed and unzipped it. “She has other things on her mind other than who you’re s
leeping with, buddy.”
“You’re right.” I sighed and did the same thing with my own suitcase. “You’re always right. I hate that.”
Zach laughed. “It comes with my education.”
“I have a similar education.”
He pursed his lips. “You do. Well, then I am just smarter than you.”
“Probably.” I hung up my suit for the funeral next to his. Frowned at the wrinkles. “I hate ironing.”
“I’ll take care of it. You don’t have to worry.”
It occurred to me again that Zach did a lot for me. Probably more than most buddies did for one another. And it was probably weird or something. But I’d never really thought to analyze it too much. “Lucy and Ethel.”
“Are you stalling?” Zach asked me, leaning against the bedroom wall closest to the bathroom as he watched me fussing with the contents of my suitcase long after he had finished arranging his things. Even taking his toiletries into the bathroom.
“You noticed, huh?”
“Yep.”
“I haven’t seen my parents since I left.”
“I know. Or your sister.”
“It just…It’s like bigger with them, isn’t it? Maybe I should have made an effort or something. My sister made an effort to reach out, but they never did. Maybe they thought they were better off with me gone.” I shook my head. “I shouldn’t have come here.”
“You’re here now, Mick. Make the best of these five days.”
“That was too long, huh?”
“Mick.”
“Okay.” I blew out a breath. “I’m ready. I guess.”
Chapter 3
I’d certainly been accused of being overly dramatic before. Obviously someone who would move across country and stay away from his family for a decade was not calm and laid-back. And I came from a family that thrived on drama. Witness my sister, Raine, who just had to name her daughters Autumn and Summer.
The girls saw Zach and me hovering on the edge of the living room before anyone else did. I had a moment where I couldn’t recall which was which, but then my brain started working again and I remembered Autumn was six and Summer four. Neither of them had ever met me, of course, and I wasn’t sure if Raine had even showed my picture to them.
Raine’s daughters both had long, strawberry-blonde hair, which made some sort of weird sense because Joe’d had traces of red in his hair. Auburn, I guess it was called. They had Joe’s big brown eyes, too, and both sets were wide as saucers as they took in the two strange guys standing just outside their living room.
“Mommy,” Summer whined.
Raine turned from her position on a chair facing away from us. She rose at once. “You don’t have to stand over there. Come on in.”
Besides knowing how to do dramatic, I also knew how to do awkward. I tamped down the urge to run back up the stairs and walked into the living room and over to where the group was gathered.
My family.
Autumn and Summer were perched on the edge of a couch—a settee, as my mother would have called it—that had seen better days. Raine had been seated in one of those high-backed rattan chairs favored by Morticia in that old television series. And my parents, who had somehow become tinier and frailer than I remembered in the last ten years, sat on a large brown leather couch. Both of their faces were pinched, as though in a great deal of pain, and I couldn’t tell if it was from Joe’s death or my reappearance.
My mother, Barbara, who’d always preferred to be called Barbie, got to her feet. I was pretty sure she’d shrunk in size, or maybe that was my memory. She couldn’t be more than five feet four inches. She seemed especially short since I was six feet and Zach stood two inches taller than me.
She stepped over to us. Actually over to Zach, ignoring me altogether for the moment.
“You must be Zach.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, taking her offered hand. I suspected he thought he was supposed to shake, but my mother had decided to keep his hand in hers.
“The new boyfriend,” she murmured.
I opened my mouth once more to refute the misconception.
“Right,” Zach said instead, and I only just managed not to glance at him in surprise.
While I agreed Raine and everyone had other things on their minds, I didn’t think it was right to deceive anyone.
“I’m Barbie.” Still clutching Zach, my mother pulled him forward toward where my father still sat on the couch. “This is my husband, Horace. But we don’t call him that because he hates it.”
“What do you call him?” Zach asked.
“Ken.” She smiled a little. “Get it? Ken and Barbie?”
Zach’s lips twitched ever so slightly. “Yes, I see.”
“His name is Horace Kenneth Lawler,” I explained, feeling hot enough I was sure I had turned a ridiculous shade of scarlet.
“Don’t spoil things, Michael.”
It was the first acknowledgment of my standing there I had received from her. To my relief, she finally let loose of Zach, who to his credit had not squirmed once. But now that meant she had turned her attention to me.
It took her only a few steps to reach where I had been standing, frozen in place. She looked like she was torn between embracing me and slapping me silly. I wondered which one she would choose.
She ended up doing neither. Which wasn’t a complete shock. That had been the way she was with me all through my childhood. We’d never been close, really. And the way my parents had supported Joe’s relationship with Raine more than they ever had with me had only made things worse.
“Well.” She sniffed, staring up at me. “You’ve grown, haven’t you?”
I didn’t really know what to say to that so, of course, I ended up saying nothing.
My mother turned away from me then. Apparently our greeting had been concluded. During this time my father hadn’t said anything. Just sat sullenly on the couch. I supposed the situation of Joe’s death called for at least a little sullenness.
Raine decided to take over after the awkward silence seemed to go on forever. “Autumn, Summer, this is your Uncle Mick. He’s come all the way from Florida.”
“Hello,” Autumn said softly. Summer hid her face shyly.
“And this is his…friend. Zach. I’m sorry, I forget your last name,” Raine said, turning to him.
“Covington.”
“Yes, that’s right,” she said, as though there was a doubt. She smiled at the girls. It was a strained smile, but it was there. “You remember Uncle Mick is my twin brother, right?”
Autumn nodded, but Summer continued to hide. I didn’t really blame her.
“Why don’t we make a pot of coffee?” Zach spoke up. “I know I’d like some.”
“I’ll show you where everything is,” Raine said, leading us into her kitchen.
The kitchen was very white, as though the painting had been done very recently. Every appliance was white, too. Raine showed us her coffeemaker and handed us filters and coffee.
She lingered by the doorway leading back to the living room. No doubt she wanted to avoid going back to our parents and the girls. I didn’t really blame her for that either.
But I was still surprised when she rushed at me and threw her arms around me so hard as to bump me into the counter behind me.
“I’m so glad you’re here.”
I returned her hug, patting her back a little. I was, frankly, at a loss as to why she was that glad I was here. I didn’t seem to be doing much of anything but acting weird.
“I couldn’t do this without you,” Raine whispered. Then she pulled back to look at me, her eyes shining with tears. “Will you go with me to the funeral home in the morning?”
“Of course I will. Anything you want.”
“Thanks.” She stepped back and wiped her eyes. “There are cookies there in that cabinet. And my neighbor brought over some kind of casserole a little bit ago. It’s in the fridge. If you’re hungry. Or we can heat it up a little later?”
She put her hand on her stomach. “I wonder if I can ever eat again.” Then she turned and went into the living room.
I exhaled very slowly and then turned to the coffeemaker.
“Hey.”
I looked to Zach.
“I can do that.” Zach took the coffee filter out of my hand and set it in the maker. He grabbed the carafe and went to the sink.
“Thanks, but I’m okay.”
“I know you are. But you knew Joe, too. And all this family stuff. It’s hard, I know.”
I watched him in something of a daze as he set up the coffee to start. He had great, masculine hands, with long, elegant fingers and lots of dark hair on his wrists all the way up his arms.
“Mick?”
“What?”
Zach stepped closer to me, and then, to my surprise, he put his arms around me and drew me against his chest, holding me tight. God, he gave the best hugs ever. Almost against my own will, I leaned my head on his shoulder, snuggling in close. He even smelled good, like cinnamon and cloves. I had no idea why; I just knew it.
I hadn’t really known I needed it before he’d wrapped his arms around me. I thought I was doing okay. Well, a little wonked out, but not that bad. But now that he was holding me, in a surprisingly intimate manner, I didn’t want to pull away. Ever.
“Michael—”
I pulled away from Zach the minute my mother spoke as she came into the kitchen. Or at least I tried to. Zach only let me get so far. He still had his arms around me.
“Oh,” my mother said. Her hands went to her face. She looked vaguely shocked, and I wasn’t really sure why. She knew I was gay. Zach, too. In fact, she thought he was my boyfriend. “Is the coffee ready?”
“Almost,” Zach answered for me. “We’ll bring it in with some cups when it is.”
She nodded, then turned to leave. “Don’t forget the cream and sugar.”
I huffed out a breath. “That was awkward.”
Zach gave me a smile. He had a beautiful smile and didn’t use it often enough. “It shouldn’t be, Mick. You need to stop running from who you are.”