by Alexa Land
“Uncle Johnnie!” I spun around and dropped into a crouch as my three little nephews ran up to me and grabbed me in a group hug.
“Hey buddies!” I said, kissing each one on the forehead. “Thanks for coming to celebrate my birthday with me.” I’d last seen them three weeks ago when Mikey had brought them to Tahoe for a long weekend.
“Nana says there’s a really big birthday cake,” Markie said excitedly. “Cousin Josh said he might take us on a cake raid before dinner. He knows how to sneak frosting and then cover it up so nobody can tell you ate some.” He beamed at me delightedly.
Mitchell sighed and said, “Smooth move, ex-lax. That was a secret. You weren’t supposed to tell any grown-ups!”
Markie rolled his eyes and told his brother, “I didn’t tell a grown-up, I told Uncle Johnnie.”
I chuckled at that as Mitchell informed him, “Uncle Johnnie just turned thirty today. He’s super old and like, totally a grown-up now.”
I looked up at Zan and said, “Did you hear that? I have to be a grown-up now. That’s so unfair.”
“Whatever you do, don’t tell them how old I am,” he said with a grin. “They’re liable to lock me up in an old folks’ home.”
“Markie,” I said, “how old do you think my boyfriend Zan is?”
My nephew considered the question carefully, then said, “He’s got to be at least twenty. He still likes to play dress up with that cool jewelry, but he’s really tall so I know he’s not a kid.”
Zan burst out laughing and I said, “You’re exactly right. He’s at least twenty.”
I straightened up and saw my brother Mikey crossing the lawn to us. He was holding hands with Marie, the pretty, blonde dog trainer. Okay, that was news. Marie wore a hot pink halter dress that accentuated her curvy figure and carried a pair of silver spike-heeled sandals.
“Hey there,” she said, her Alabama accent immediately making me smile. “Happy birthday, Johnnie.” I introduced her to Zan and she beamed up at him and said, “Well, shit fire and save the matches! I had the biggest crush on you when I was in high school, and I swear to sweet baby Jesus you’re even better lookin’ now than ya were back then. I’m kinda embarrassed to be meetin’ ya all barefoot like I just stepped out of a trailer park, but my damn heels keep sinkin’ into the lawn. Mike had to pull me out twice, that’s how bad I got stuck! Isn’t that right, honey?”
Mikey grinned at her and said, “I warned you we’d be outside, M. You could have gone with flats.”
“Flats and this dress?” she exclaimed. “Oh hell no! Ain’t no southern girl gonna be caught dead makin’ that fashion faux pas.” She pronounced it ‘fox pass’, which was completely endearing.
I took a look at my brother as he bantered with his date. Marie said something that made him laugh, and Mikey hugged her to his side. He seemed different, not just because he’d grown his hair out slightly and was sporting a tan. My brother looked happy and relaxed, two words that didn’t always apply to him. Marie was worlds away from what I would have assumed was his type, yet so exactly right at the same time. It didn’t seem like a case of opposites attracting, it was more a question of two people appreciating each other’s differences.
I really hoped it would work out for them, especially when Marie tossed her shoes aside and grabbed MJ and Markie’s hands, yelling, “Attack of the mushies!” The three of them ran after a laughing, squealing Mitchell and caught him in a group hug, all of them giggling.
“Hold on to that one, brother,” I said.
“Oh, believe me, that is most definitely the plan,” he murmured, watching her at a distance. She bobbed and weaved, laughing delightedly as the three boys joined hands and ran after her.
“You didn’t mention this when you came up and saw us,” I pointed out.
“I didn’t want to jinx it.”
I grinned at that. “Jinx it? Really?”
Mikey grinned. “That’s one of Marie’s expressions, and you know what I mean. I didn’t want to talk about it prematurely. She and I had only been going out a couple weeks at that point. It’s still really new, but I feel so optimistic.” He still hadn’t taken his eyes off her, a dreamy expression on his face. I smiled and reached for Zan’s hand, and he gave mine a squeeze.
There was another big surprise waiting for us. We excused ourselves from the group after a few minutes when we spotted Christian and Shea. They were talking to my brother Dante and his husband, and when they saw us, all four of them turned to us and smiled. Christian steadied himself on Shea’s arm, and the two of them began walking toward us.
A sob tore from Zan and he quickly closed the gap between them, grabbing his son in an embrace. “Look at you, boyo,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “I knew you’d beat that damned wheelchair.”
“I have to admit, I had my doubts,” Christian said when his Dad finally released him, “but Shea kept on believing I was going to regain what I’d lost.” He beamed at his fiancé. “I’m not back to where I was before, but some of my coordination is returning, bit by bit. I still have the handwriting of a chimpanzee on crack, but there are worse things. My doctor says my brain is forming new connections to replace the ones that were damaged.”
“He’s been working hard in physical therapy to build back his muscle tone after all those months in the wheelchair,” Shea said. “I’m incredibly proud of him.” He looked at Christian adoringly and kissed him deeply, but seemed to suddenly recall he was doing that in front of Christian’s father and pulled back with a shy blush.
We spoke with them for several minutes and made plans for them to visit us soon. Then the couple insisted they were hogging our time and told us to go mingle. I introduced Zan to a dozen assorted cousins, including Jerry, who’d taken over the ‘family business’ when Dante stepped down. We also chatted a bit with Vincent and Trevor before someone tapped me on the shoulder.
Yosh and Nico were right behind me, and my best friend grabbed me in a hug as he said, “Happy birthday, Gi. I missed you so damn much.” Even though we texted every day, I hadn’t actually seen him in weeks. He hadn’t gotten a chance to visit us at the cabin, because his business had been overrun with new clients. Ever since Zan wore the t-shirt for Yoshi’s tattoo studio in his interview, my best friend had had more work than he knew what to do with, and was in the process of leasing a second store front and hiring more tattoo artists. He hugged Zan next and said, “Hey man, you’re looking great. Cabin living must have agreed with you.”
“That it did,” Zan said before turning and shaking my cousin’s hand.
“Hi guys,” Nico said. “Yosh and I are acting as each other’s fake dates, since we both were feeling pathetic and single.”
Chance walked up to us and said, “Aw man, I need that, too. Is anyone left for me to fake date?”
Yosh linked arms with him on his left and Nico on his right. “We’ll fake date you. If anyone asks, we’ll tell them we’re in a ménage-type situation. Watch, they’ll be totally impressed that we’re so hip and progressive.”
Chance chuckled and said, “Awesome.”
*****
Maybe an hour later when I finally had a moment alone with Zan, I kissed him and asked, “How are you doing?”
He draped his arms over my shoulders and said, “I feel good, actually. I don’t know why I was worried about tonight. Your friends and family are terrific.”
“The size of the crowd doesn’t bother you?” There were at least a hundred and twenty people on the lawn by that point, many of whom were members of my extended family.
“Nah. This isn’t bad at all.” I smiled at him and he glanced over my shoulder as the piano player got up to take a break. “Come here for a minute, love. I want to give you your birthday present.”
He took my hand and led me to the piano, and we both sat down at the bench. As soon as we did that, the crowd gravitated around us. Zan began playing the moment he sat down, as if doing so was totally automatic. “I got famous writing love songs,�
� he said, looking in my eyes, “but like I told you, I didn’t know what it meant to be in love until I met you. I get it now. Your love inspires me every single day, Gianni, and I wrote a song for you. It doesn’t adequately convey my feelings for you because words fail me, but I want you to know it’s from the heart and I hope you like it.”
After a few moments, he began to sing. His voice and the melody were astonishingly beautiful, and I watched in awe as his graceful hands flew over the keys. The song told me simply and eloquently how much he loved me. It was the single greatest gift anyone had ever given me.
When the song concluded, I was startled by the applause. I’d completely forgotten there were people around us. “Thank you,” I whispered, and I kissed him tenderly.
“Happy birthday, love,” he said, resting his forehead against mine.
“I absolutely adore you.” I was still whispering, because I knew my voice would break if I tried to speak louder. He smiled at me and kissed me again, and the crowd broke out in another round of applause, this time including whoops and cat calls. That made me laugh and bury my face embarrassedly in Zan’s shoulder.
“Are you taking requests?” my cousin Jerry called from somewhere in the crowd and everyone chuckled. Zan’s fingers had started picking out a tune on the keys, as if acting on their own.
“Yeah, why not?” Zan said, and someone called out the name of one of his hits. I watched him closely as he played it for them. He was completely in his element, relaxed and happy, doing what he’d been born to do. I watched the crowd, too. They were completely enthralled. A lot of them looked like they couldn’t believe what was happening right before their eyes, and rightfully so. Zan was extraordinary, larger than life, and I felt so incredibly proud of the man I loved.
He played for almost an hour, taking request after request. Finally Nana broke it up, saying, “For the love of God, people, stop hogging the birthday boy’s sweetheart. These two got better things to do than entertain your ass!”
Zan got up and took a quick, self-conscious bow as the crowd went absolutely wild, cheering and applauding. I took his hand and led him into the hotel. There was a little alcove off to the right, and I pulled him into it and kissed him passionately.
The private moment didn’t last long. A timid voice behind me said, “Mr. Tillane? I’m so sorry to bother you and your boyfriend, but do you think I could have your autograph?” I turned to look at the young auburn-haired piano player, who was blushing furiously and holding up a Zan Tillane CD and a pen.
“Sure,” Zan said, taking the items from him. “Be glad to.”
“Could you please make it out to Susanna? That’s my girlfriend. I won her over by playing one of your songs on the piano for her,” he admitted embarrassedly, scratching the bridge of his heavily freckled nose.
“You’re incredibly talented,” Zan told him as he signed the CD case. “I’m not surprised you won her over.”
The guy blinked at Zan in disbelief and murmured, “You think I’m talented?”
“I know it. I’ve been listening to you all night. I bet your boss here at the hotel tells you to stick to the song book, yeah?” The guy nodded, and Zan said, “I love it when you sneak in those ad-libbed riffs anyway, like you did on that Cole Porter number. It’s brilliant and subversive and shows the true depth of your talent.”
The guy’s jaw was hanging open as Zan handed the autographed CD and pen back to him. “I didn’t think anyone was even listening,” he murmured. “They never seem to. I’m just in the background at all these events. I sit and play and nobody cares.”
“Fuck ‘em,” Zan said. “Joke’s on them and your boss anyway. There you are, doing things more genius than they can even comprehend, and the whole time you’re at work, you’re practicing and getting better and better and better. When you figure out where you need to go from here, you can give ‘em all the one-fingered salute and tell them, ‘thanks for paying me to rehearse, but I’m way too fucking good for this shit so I’m out of here.’ Won’t that feel good?”
The guy smiled ear to ear. “It’ll feel awesome.”
“What’s your name?” Zan asked.
“Freddie Jankowitz.”
“Freddie, I’m going to look for you after you make it big, and I’m going to buy a ticket to your concert when you’re headlining the top venues.”
The kid burst into tears and said, “Thank you so much, Mr. Tillane. You don’t even know how much all of that means to me, coming from someone like you. I just can’t even tell you!” Freddie grabbed Zan in a quick hug before retreating back to the piano, drying his eyes on the sleeve of his white dress shirt.
I kissed Zan deeply before saying, “You’re an amazing man.”
“What makes you say that?”
“The thing you just did for that guy. You made his day. No, scratch that. You made his year.”
“He seemed sweet, and he really is talented,” Zan said. “All he needed was someone to believe in him. I hope I gave him that.”
“How do you know that’s what he needed?”
“Because it’s what we all need,” he said with a little smile. Freddie had returned to the piano, and a Zan Tillane song drifted to us. “I wonder if that’s in the sanctioned playbook, or if he’s going rogue.”
I led him back out onto the lawn and said, “May I please have this dance, Alexzander?”
“It would be a pleasure and an honor.” He took me in his arms and I rested my head on his shoulder as we swayed to the music.
A few couples joined us and I grinned. “They’re hearing him. Freddie, I mean. They’re dancing to his music.”
“He’s not nearly as invisible as he thinks he is. I hope he learned that tonight.”
“I think he did.”
Zan kissed the side of my head and asked, “Are you having a good birthday, love?”
“The best one ever,” I said, holding him tight.
That would have been absolutely true, except for what happened next.
Chapter Nineteen
We heard the news helicopter a few moments before it came into view. It appeared around the crest of the hill and hovered above the lawn. The words ‘Channel 17 Investigates’ were painted on the side, and a guy with a big camera hung out the open door by a strap as a powerful searchlight washed over the crowd.
The noise was deafening. They were flying way too low, the force of the blades sending food flying off the buffet table and whipping everyone’s clothes and hair. Zan and I stood frozen in shock as the chaos swirled around us. The spotlight landed on us and locked on, and both of us raised our hands to shield ourselves from being blinded.
To our left, a dozen paparazzi were running around the edge of the hotel. We were easy to find with the spotlight on us, so they began barreling toward us. The security team had mobilized, running to intercept. They had to dodge the crowd, which was scattering in confusion. The paper lanterns on their long cables surged skyward in the updraft, uprooting two of the twelve foot-high aluminum flagpoles, which apparently were just on temporary stands. The poles toppled like felled trees. Everyone dodged out of the way, except for MJ. The pole struck the child and he fell to the ground with a cry of pain.
The moment I saw that, I started to run toward him. A paparazzo jumped in my path, shoving a big camera in my face. In the next instant, my brother-in-law Charlie leveled the guy with a hard body check, his years as a high school football player really apparent. I dodged around them. It felt like I was running in slow motion, but finally I got to my nephew and scooped him into my arms.
I stood up and looked around, but didn’t see his dad or brothers. MJ was sobbing hysterically, his little body trembling. My only thought was to get him to safety, so I took off running. Zan was right by my side, shoving paparazzi out of our way. Dante and Charlie caught up to us and also helped clear the path.
We burst into the hotel and ducked into what turned out to be a little business office to our left. I sat MJ on the desk and asked him, �
��Are you okay? Where did that pole hit you?”
“My leg,” he said between sobs, pointing to his right shin. “I was so scared. I didn’t know what was happening.”
I pulled up his pant leg and examined his shin. A big bruise was already beginning to form. “Does it hurt when you move it?” I asked, and he shook his head. I straightened up and said, “I don’t think it’s broken. Does anyone know where Mikey is?”
“We’ll go find him,” Charlie said, and he and his husband hurried from the room.
I picked up MJ and held him, and the little boy clung to me tightly. “There was so much noise, and everyone was running,” he managed.
“I know, sweetie. Everything’s okay now,” I said as I rocked him. He was calming a bit and no longer sobbing. Meanwhile, Zan paced at the far side of the room.
“Don’t tell Markie and Mitchell I got scared, okay?” MJ said, his voice quavering. “I’m the big brother, I’m supposed to be tough. I don’t want ‘em to think I’m chicken.”
“I won’t tell, but you don’t have to be tough all the time,” I told him gently. “Do you know where your dad and brothers are?”
MJ sniffed and said, “Daddy and Marie took my brothers upstairs to our room to tuck them in ‘cause it was their bedtime. I begged them and they said I could stay up an extra half hour. I was supposed to stay with Cousin Josh, but I didn’t. It’s my fault I got hurt.”
“Nothing’s your fault,” I told him. I pulled out my phone and shot Mikey a quick message with one hand, letting him know where his son was as I hugged the child with my other arm.
“It’s mine,” Zan said quietly.
“No it’s not,” I said. “It’s not your fault that some jerk tipped off the paparazzi, or that they’re so unscrupulous in their quest to get the photo that they behave like animals.”
“It’s always going to be like that, as long as I’m with you,” he said, his voice little more than a whisper. “I stirred up way too much publicity by disappearing and coming back after all that time, so the media circus just isn’t going to die down, probably for years. I can’t keep doing this to you and your family, Gianni. I love you way too much to keep you in the public eye.”