by Alexa Land
“In that case, I have a suggestion for you.” Jessie leaned across the table and pulled the laptop over to him, then hit a few keys as he said, “Have you ever heard of Eddie Guerrera?”
“No, who is he?” Zan asked.
Jessie pivoted the laptop back around to face us. “He’s this college kid that has a small following on YouTube. He’s gay and talks openly about his sexuality and about the challenges he’s faced, like being bullied all through high school and almost taking his own life. He wants to be a journalist when he finishes school, but he talks about his shyness and insecurity and how he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to overcome them to pursue his dreams. Anyway, take a look at that vid I pulled up, it’s a short one but it’ll give you some idea of what this guy’s all about.”
Eddie was a cute guy of about twenty with glasses and shaggy black hair that spilled forward into his big, dark eyes. The video was just two minutes long. In it, Eddie tried to talk about a transgender teenager that had recently committed suicide. He ended up breaking down in tears, then reaching up and shutting off the camera.
“You want to make not only someone’s day, but someone’s life?” Jessie said once the video ended. “Call up Eddie Guerrera and give him the interview. You’ll totally be my hero if you do.”
“That’s a wonderful idea, but do you think he’d do it?” Zan said. “If he’s really that shy, dragging him into this media circus might be kind of terrifying for him.”
“Doesn’t hurt to ask,” Jessie said. “He has a website, and I can shoot him an email if you want.”
“Sure, go ahead,” Zan told him. “I like the idea of going public this way, instead of rewarding any of the vultures that are perched out front.”
“Great.” Jessie spun the laptop to face him again and started typing. “He lives in Vallejo, so he’s less than an hour from here, which is convenient. There’s every chance he’ll just think I’m a crackpot and not bother to reply, but I’m going to ask anyway.” After a minute he said, “Okay, message sent,” and got up from the table. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, and slid it over to me. “Go ahead and answer if he calls back, I gave him my number. I have to go help Nana now.”
“Help her with what?” I asked.
“She’s totally perturbed that the rainbow on the front of the house is only half-done, so we’re going to go out and finish it. Dante and Charlie are going to help.”
“Is that a good idea?” Zan said.
“Well, we’ll see. The reporters aren’t allowed to come onto the lawn, and Dante alerted his big, hot, beefy security team, who are going to act as a wall of muscle between us and them. Have you seen those guys? Holy crap, talk about sexy. Anyway, Nana had a good point: if ever there was a time to make a political statement, it’s right now, while the whole world is watching.”
“I wish I could help,” I said. “I’m pretty sure that’d cause a stampede, though.”
“It totally would. You just sit tight.”
“Christian’s not going out there, is he?” Zan asked.
“Nope,” Jessie said. “He’s as worried as you are about the media finding out you have a son. Since Skye’s his bestie and they spend a lot of time together, they thought he should remain off camera, too. If the paparazzi started following Skye and spotted Christian, they might do some digging and find out who he is.”
Nana came into the kitchen. She never just walked into a room, she rushed, bustled, or scurried. This time she did a combination of all three. The idea of confronting the media obviously excited her. She said, “Hi boys. Jessie, the security team’s in place, and of course the moment they made a move, the fucking paparazzi all jumped up like they got poked in the ass with a sharp stick. Here’s your t-shirt, fresh from the dryer. Let’s do this!” She tossed a rainbow-tie-dyed t-shirt to Jessie, who pulled off his plain yellow one and put it on. The front of the shirt had a big, black equal sign on it. Nana was wearing an identical shirt. When he turned around, I saw there was a hand-lettered message on the back, which said equality now.
“Did you guys make matching shirts?” I asked.
Dante appeared in the kitchen. He too was wearing a rainbow tie-dyed t-shirt with an equal sign on the front. It was a big change from his usual expensive dark suit, and I smiled at him. “We all did. You missed the arts and crafts party last night,” he said with a little grin.
“So, you’re going out there and getting on camera? Aren’t you worried about being hounded by the media forever?” I asked him.
“Fuck it,” Dante said. “I’m sure the reporters already found out who all your relatives are, so what’s the difference? If I’m going to have a spotlight on me, I might as well say something important.” He turned around so I could read the back of his shirt, which said, I love my husband. Charlie came into the kitchen and smiled at him, then turned around and showed us the back of his rainbow shirt. It said the same thing. He was holding the puppy’s leash, and even the dog was wearing a rainbow t-shirt with an equal sign.
“Let’s do this thing!” Nana exclaimed and rushed/bustled/scurried from the room. On the way out, I caught a glimpse of the back of her shirt. It said in big block letters: If you have a problem with gay homosexuals, you can suck my dick!
Zan burst out laughing and I muttered, “Oh hell. Did nobody try to steer her toward a more appropriate message?”
“Of course we did,” Dante said as Jessie, Charlie, and the dog followed Nana. “When has that ever worked?” He grinned at us and followed his little tribe of tie-dyed warriors.
The local station that we’d been watching interrupted their morning newscast and cut to a live shot of my family as they came outside. I could hear the din from the kitchen as every reporter started screaming questions at once. Jessie waved to the cameras, Nana flipped them off, and then all four of them turned their backs to the throng and went to work. I noticed they’d all donned headphones. Nana had what looked like a 1980s Walkman clipped to the belt of her white capris, and she started singing along to whatever she was listening to and shaking her butt as she popped open a can of paint and gave it a stir.
The paparazzi meanwhile were going totally ape shit. They tried to charge my family, but the dozen beefy security guards held the line at the edge of the lawn. A couple police cars pulled up, and the officers spent some time reminding the media to stay off private property. Finally, an officer started to approach the house.
Shea appeared in the kitchen doorway. He’d been watching TV in the family room along with Christian, Skye and Dare, and said, “I’m going to let that police officer in, he’s my brother.”
He stayed out of sight of the cameras when he opened the front door, and a minute later, an enormous guy in uniform appeared in the kitchen, holding an SFPD baseball cap in his hand. Shea said, “Gianni and Zan, I’d like you to meet my brother, Finn Nolan.” To Finn he said, “I didn’t know you were working this neighborhood.”
As he shook hands with us, Finn said, “Nice to meet you.” Then he told his brother, “Everybody’s been working this neighborhood since Zan’s story broke.”
“Figures,” Shea said.
Finn asked, “You want a police escort to get out of here? I’ll make sure you don’t get hassled by the paparazzi.” That had actually been directed at his brother.
“We’re not going anywhere unless Zan does,” Shea told him. “Christian’s worried about his dad and wants to stay close.”
“Okay. So, here’s the official part of my visit,” Finn told him. “The chief wants me to talk to Tillane about relocating to a more secure location. He sent me because I told him in confidence that you were in this house. I didn’t tell him about your fiancé’s relationship to Tillane, though. I know that’s a secret.”
To Zan, Finn said, “You have every right to stay here if you want to, of course. Nobody can make you leave. I want to ask you to consider relocating, though, as a personal favor to me. I’m totally playing the family card here as the brother of your fut
ure son-in-law, and I know that’s really cheesy. I apologize for that, but my captain has put me in an awkward position here.”
“Dude, that really is cheesy,” Shea told him.
“I know, but my captain’s desperate. The fact is, Tillane’s reappearance has put a huge strain on the department. Two officers are working around the clock just to keep fans from climbing over the back and side fences of this property, and that’s even with your private security doing their part,” Finn said. “Half a dozen more are rotating on twenty-four-hour shifts to man the traffic controls. They blocked off this street at both ends and have to ID everyone to keep out all but the folks who live here. Plus, they’re trying to direct traffic, which is completely snarled. People keep trying to drive by the house, then are forced to turn off when they reach the roadblocks. It’s just made a mess of things. Other geniuses have been flying private planes too low over the neighborhood, trying to get a look at all of this, but that’s another story. Worst of all, we’ve had to put dozens of officers on that Tillane-a-paloosa happening in the park. It’s been peaceful so far, but with that many people in one place, it’s all just one fistfight away from breaking into total chaos. It’s not just fans and the gay community that have gathered there. Anti-gay protesters have started to show up with picket signs. Those people love to get on camera and stir things up.”
“Shit,” I murmured.
Finn turned his attention to me. He resembled his brother, with the same bright blue eyes and handsome features. While Shea was usually smiling though, the frown on Finn’s face looked like it probably spent a lot of time there. “I’m not saying you have to get out of town or anything. It’s not like I’m here to run you off. But I wanted to ask if you might have someplace else where you could lay low, because the center of San Francisco really isn’t ideal.”
“Actually, that sounds exactly like you’re trying to run them out of town,” Shea said.
Finn sighed and told his brother, “Give me a break. I’m just trying to make a bad situation better, not only for our department, but for these two. I’m guessing they’re not enjoying getting hassled by the press and the paparazzi and the hundreds of people that are flocking here, given the fact that they’ve been hiding inside since the story broke.”
“You have a point,” I said, “but I’m really not sure where we’d go. I don’t think Zan wants to go back to his house, and hotels are too public. If we try to stay with any of our friends or relatives, that’ll just throw the spotlight on them, like we did with this place.”
“I actually came up with an idea if you’re interested,” Finn said. “It’s someplace off the beaten path, and I’d be happy to escort you there and help you settle in. It’s up to you.”
“They’d be recognized wherever they went,” Shea said. “Where do you think you could take them, outer Mongolia? I’ll bet even there you’d find a yak herder with a Zan Tillane album on vinyl, hounding him for an autograph.”
Finn rolled his eyes. “I was thinking of something a bit less drastic.” He turned to Zan and me and said, “My cousins Kieran and Brian own a cabin above Lake Tahoe. It was left to them when their dad died. It’s not exactly in the middle of nowhere, but still, it’s fairly private. I know because Shea and I have been going there since we were kids. As long as we didn’t drive up there with a caravan of news vans behind us, you’d buy yourselves some time and some peace and quiet.”
“That’s actually not a stupid idea,” Shea said, and his brother shot him a look.
Finn addressed Zan and me again as he said, “What do you think? We could make a big show of you two leaving this house, so the reporters clear out. After that, we could switch cars and slip out of the city.”
“How very Mission Impossible,” Shea quipped.
“I actually like this idea,” I said. “I’d love to lure the paparazzi away from my family, even though I bet a few will stay and keep trying to get a story from them. Also, I think it’d be great to go somewhere calm and quiet. Both of us could really use that.” I picked up Zan’s hand and asked him, “What do you think? If I’m wrong and you want to go home, we could do that, too. We’d do the same thing, switching cars and all of that, but I kind of like the idea of going somewhere random. I’m worried about being followed despite our precautions and the paparazzi discovering where you live.”
He said, “I’ll go wherever you want. As long as you’re there, I’m good.”
I smiled at him, then told Finn, “Okay, we’re in. So, when do you want to do this?”
“In about three or four hours, maybe. I already asked Kieran,” Finn said, “and he’s fine with letting you use the cabin. I just have to pull a few of the logistics together. I’ve been thinking about how to switch cars without the paparazzi noticing, and I may have figured it out. I’ll just need to make some calls and get it all set up.”
I glanced at Zan, and when he nodded I said, “Okay. We can be ready to go this afternoon.”
Finn looked relieved. “Great. I’ll text my brother when we’re ready to roll.” He put on a pair of mirrored sunglasses and the baseball cap and said, “See you soon,” before Shea walked him to the door.
When we were alone, I asked Zan, “Are you really okay with this idea? We could stay here if you’re not comfortable with it. Or we could go ahead and go back to your house if that’s what you want. I know all this change has already been a hell of a lot for you, and I don’t want to push it.”
“It’s a good idea to get out of the city, but I can’t go back home. Not yet. I want to, but I’m afraid going back too soon would mean getting stuck there again.”
“Okay. Do you like the cabin idea, or would you rather think of something else?”
“That idea’s good as any,” he said. “You’ll be with me, so that’s all that really matters.”
Jessie’s phone rang, startling me. I glanced at the screen, which listed an east bay number but no name. I said, “I forgot about that journalist, I’ll bet that’s him.”
When I answered, a young-sounding male voice said, “So, um, this was probably totally a prank and I’ve been sitting here trying to convince myself not to fall for it. But, well, then I figured what the hell. So, is Jessie there?”
“No, he’s outside painting the house,” I said. “Is this Eddie Guerrera?”
“Yeah. Who am I speaking with?”
“Gianni Dombruso.”
“Bullcrap.”
“I don’t blame you for being skeptical, but I can prove I’m really him.” I thought for a moment, then glanced at the TV and said, “Do you get channel twenty-two?”
“Yeah.”
I got up and headed out of the kitchen as I said, “Turn it on. That station is currently showing a few members of my family painting a big rainbow on the house, as if that’s actually news. In just a minute, I’m going to give them a reason to zoom in on the front window.”
I reached the hall closet and pulled out a five-foot-tall cardboard cutout that someone had gotten Nana for her birthday, then carried it with me into the formal living room. I lifted the drapes just an inch and slipped the standee in place. Immediately, I could hear the buzz of the reporters, even through the double-paned glass. I said into the phone, “Say hello to my little friend.”
Eddie started laughing, and said, “Dude, seriously? Did you just have that laying around?” The cardboard figure was a happy, buck naked little old man holding a popping, spewing champagne bottle that covered his junk.
“My grandmother did, actually. It’s completely random, I know. That’s her in the t-shirt inviting the world to suck her dick, incidentally. Here, I’m waving to you in case you need more proof,” I said, sticking my hand through the gap in the curtains and waving at the cameras. “I guess I probably could have just gone with the wave, but I wanted to make sure I had the camera’s attention.”
“Oh my God,” Eddie said. “This is real! I’m actually talking to Gianni Dombruso. Or someone in his house, anyway. Jessie’s email
said you guys wanted me to interview Zan Tillane. Was he serious?”
“Yeah. We think you’re the perfect person to do that interview. Jessie’s a big fan of your internet videos and showed us one of them.” I’d returned to the kitchen and glanced at the TV, where my friend was mugging in front of the cardboard cutout and pretending to flirt with the naked octogenarian. “That cute blond on TV right now is Jessie, by the way.”
“But...I mean, every reporter alive would kill for that story. Do you know what the talk shows would pay to get an exclusive?”
“We just want someone with integrity, and that’s you. So, do you want the interview?”
“Yes! Oh my God, yes!” Eddie exclaimed.
“Great. Can you do it this afternoon?”
“Of course. I’ll cancel everything for this!”
I told him, “We don’t have a lot of time, because we need to change locations in a few hours. How long would it take you to get to the city?”
“An hour, tops. I think my roommate’s home, so I can probably borrow his Datsun.” I gave him the address and he stammered, “Okay. Well, great. Thank you so much! Oh my God, I don’t believe this is happening!”
Once we disconnected, I set Jessie’s phone on the table and put my arms around Zan. “Eddie’s on his way. He sounds nice.”
“Good. I’m looking forward to dispelling the insane rumors that are going around. I want to send a message to my fans, too. I’m not sure what to say to them exactly, but I suppose I’ll think of something.”
The painting party came inside a few minutes later. Jessie was thrilled to hear about the interview. I asked Dante to have his security team let Eddie through when he arrived, and my brother fired off a text and said, “Done.”
“Letting Eddie Guerrera interview you is such a good call,” Jessie said. “I just know this guy’s going to do you justice.”
“I think you’re right,” I said. Then I asked, “So, how’d the painting go?”
“Well, we got a little done,” he said. “But a lot of the paint was knocked over when the reporters charged the house yesterday, so we need to buy more. Also, even with headphones on, we could totally hear the paparazzi screaming at us the whole time we were out there, and we could only take so much of that.”