by Hayes, Lane
I pursed my lips and scratched my head, dumbfounded. What was I supposed to say to that?
“Okay.” That worked.
Or not. Mama frowned as she smoothed her hand over my head. I had a sudden déjà vu of doing the same thing to Miles the other day. Oh man, I was turning into my mother.
“Listen. It’s no good to be alone. You have a good job now. And everyone will notice. The girls, the boys. People take advantage of success. I’m not here to look after you. Talia will try but…I want you to be sensible. Remember who you are and where you’re from.”
“Toronto?”
She pinched my earlobe and shook her head irritably. “You know what I mean. It’s time to settle down, Gio. You should have a person. If it’s a man…okay. That must be what God wants.”
“But what you’re really saying is, God wants me to find a Greek man,” I said in a slow deliberate tone.
My mother had a great sense of humor. I figured she’d laugh, smack me upside the head then change topics. But she didn’t. She went perfectly still and nodded.
“Yes,” she replied. “And Talia may know someone. She’s going to give you his number tomorrow and you’re going to call him. I’ll get ready now.”
Then she pinched my cheek, kissed it, and sashayed out of the kitchen and down the hall, leaving me completely and utterly shell-shocked.
* * *
Thankfully, traffic wasn’t an issue on Sunday afternoons. I dropped my parents off at the airport and received the usual ten-minute spiel from my mother regarding cooking instructions for the meals she’d premade, laundry tips, and a reminder to change my water filter often. I was just grateful she didn’t bring up my love life again. I wasn’t sure who’d come unglued first, my father or me.
There were plenty of topics we avoided, but the biggest one was my gayness. It was a no-go area. By unspoken mutual agreement, we agreed to leave it alone. Or so I thought. The idea of my parents speculating anything about Miles and me, let alone deciding I should date a Greek man, was beyond cringe-worthy. It was disturbing.
I dutifully hired someone to help them with their luggage, nodded to the never-ending reminders and said a good-bye that took longer than necessary. Then I jumped into my Audi and hightailed it back to the city, anxious to reclaim my home. Restoring some semblance of order was going to take the rest of the day.
But when I turned onto Castro Street, I had a sudden change of heart. I didn’t want to go home yet. I couldn’t face all that clutter without muddling through ancient guilt and feelings of gross inadequacy. I needed a break from work and family. I needed my friends.
Twenty minutes later, I pulled up in front of Josh and Finn’s three-storied Victorian home and looked up at the huge bay windows for signs of life. I probably should have called first. They had a kid now, and though the baby lived full-time with her moms, Josh and Finn spent a lot of time with their daughter on the weekends. I supposed I could always say I came to help. I glanced at the quiet park across the street before taking the stairs two at a time and knocking on their front door.
“Hey, what d’ya know? Just in time to change a dirty diaper!” Josh announced, gesturing for me to enter, with a big dopey grin on his face.
“That sounds like a job for Daddy.” I followed him through the spacious living room and down a hallway to the great room beyond.
In typical Victorian fashion, the house was long and narrow with tall ceilings and beautiful original features like molding and fireplaces with ornate mantels Finn had preserved when he renovated the property. The family-style kitchen overlooking the garden was probably the most modern room in their home. It carried elements of old-world charm in the custom cabinetry, revival lighting and rustic farmhouse decor with contemporary amenities. I cast a cursory look around the adjacent family room at the riot of primary colored baby toys and blankets lying across the gray sectional sofa.
“Want some coffee?” Josh asked, pulling out a fresh mug before I could respond.
“Sure. Where’s Anna?” I took a seat at the kitchen island and pulled my phone out of my pocket. I didn’t want to miss my dad’s usual “We’re about to take off” call. The one he always made after the flight attendants asked everyone to put their electronic devices on airplane mode.
“You just missed her, Uncle Grant. Finn took her home to Scar and Keisha. We had her all weekend. Kids are freaking exhausting, and she’s teething now. I don’t think I’ve strung eight whole hours of sleep together since Thursday night,” he groused, setting a full mug in front of me before circling the island and perching on the barstool next to mine.
Josh definitely looked the part of a pooped parent or maybe a grad student at exam time in his battered Radiohead T-shirt with a hole in the sleeve and faded gray sweatpants. Somehow, it worked for him. Tired or not, he oozed a happy contentment many craved and few achieved.
“Poor Joshy. And the crazy thing is, you don’t seem to mind at all. Who woulda guessed you’d be the first to become a parent?”
Not me, that was for damn sure. In our tight group of friends, Josh had always been the one who was still trying to figure out what he wanted to be when he grew up. Hell, he’d been bunking in my guest room just over a year ago. Now he lived with his boyfriend in a decidedly family-oriented neighborhood and helped raise the daughter Finn had agreed to help his lesbian friends sire. Lucky baby Anna had two doting moms and dads. And I could barely handle having one of each, I thought with an amused huff as I tousled Josh’s wild mop of hair.
He batted my arm away then rested his chin on his hand and gave me an expectant look. “What’s up with you? Aren’t your parents still here?”
“I just dropped them off at the airport.”
“Ah. How’d the week go?”
“About the same as usual. I know a parental visit doesn’t compare to a cranky five-month-old, but I’m exhausted too. Mentally and emotionally fried,” I admitted, mimicking his pose before closing my eyes for a second to regroup.
“You’re allowed to be frazzled. Your parents are cool but they’re…a lot.” Josh said with a shrug.
I had a fleeting memory of Eric using that same phrase to describe Miles…“a lot.” I smiled and picked up my mug. It certainly fit. I was a magnet for high-maintenance complicated situations and people. My parents weren’t complicated per se, but they were definitely high-maintenance, and Miles was—he was someone I shouldn’t be thinking about at all. I frowned and turned my attention back to Josh.
“They are a lot. I don’t want to talk about them, though. And I don’t want to think about the mess I have to clean up when I get home. Tell me about Anna Banana.”
Josh’s eyes crinkled at the corners and lit up like a Christmas tree. He may have been the last one of us I would have guessed would be a parent first, but Josh was a natural. He was infinitely patient, easy-going, and fun-loving. No doubt he’d be the cool dad who pitched a tent in the living room and read Harry Potter by flashlight in a rainstorm. I grinned when he perked up and gave me an animated rundown of the joys of fatherhood, complete with drool, spit up, and park drama.
“…since I switched my class schedule. I have two free days during the week, so we have her more often. I’m the only guy at the playground on weekdays. You’d think people wouldn’t be fazed by dads taking care of their kids, but I get weird looks all the time.”
“It’s your hair,” I joked. “You’ve got the wild and crazy professor thing going. Get the scissors out. Let me trim it for you, buddy.”
“Back off! We’re never doing that again,” he proclaimed with a huff.
“Aww. Gimme another chance. It was a long time ago. I think I was drunk.”
“You think?” he scoffed. “You were so sick the next day. I held your hair back while you puked and used my free hand to call every person I knew who I’d thought might be able to fix the Edward Scissorhands job you did on me. I’m scarred for life, Grant.”
I busted up, grateful I’d made the detour to Josh’s.
He always made me laugh.
I held my hands up in surrender. “Don’t worry. I’ve learned my lesson. At least we can laugh about it now.”
“Hmph. Let’s hope all near-catastrophes are so funny after the fact,” he said, raising his cup in a mock toast.
“I’ll drink to that.”
“So what kind of trouble did your folks get into? Did they paint your living room blue, reorganize your pantries, and throw out your thongs and dildos?”
I snorted in amusement. “I’m pretty sure my pantry is alphabetized now, and I haven’t checked, but there’s always a chance my mom went through my socks and underwear drawers to make sure I wasn’t wearing anything with holes. But she didn’t find my dildos this time around,” I reported, pausing to give him a moment to howl with glee at the memory of when my poor mother walked out of my room with a giant black phallus in her hand and asked, “What’s this?” I was too horrified to laugh about it for a while, but it was pretty damn funny now.
Josh wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “Oh, my God. That was hilarious.”
“Eight years later, I guess it is. But check this out. My mother’s parting line was that it was time for me to find an appropriate mate.”
“A girl?”
“No. I think they’ve given up on that. But they’d like my special someone to be Greek. My mother put Talia on the case. You know Talia, Josh. She’s a bloodhound. She’ll probably have a candidate a day come by the office, and she won’t let up until she’s accomplished her mission. I thought making it through a week with my parents was my biggest challenge but no…they left me a bigger one.” I shoved a hand through my hair unhappily.
Josh winced sympathetically. “They mean well. And you have to give them credit for trying. At least they accept you. Not every super traditional Ma and Pa are willing to bunk at their gay son’s house in the gayest of gayborhoods in a super gay-friendly city.”
“Did you want to get that word in one more time?”
“Nah. But the point is…they try. Or they’re crazy about rainbows.”
I flashed a reluctant smile at him. “Well, my mom likes rainbows.”
“And your dad?”
“Not so much. He likes controlling my life, though. I bet you anything it was his idea, and Mom was his messenger.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Why would he want to get involved? I thought he avoided talking about homo stuff at all costs. Why would he want to insert himself in your personal life?”
“Because I’m about to land a huge deal for our firm. Monstrously huge. It’s a few months out there still, but we’re in the lead and when we get it, there’s going to be a lot of press involved. The family-owned business part will play well, and being gay isn’t a conversation starter in this town. So if I show up at any public functions with a date, my dad would prefer that my ‘plus one’ is Greek.”
“Okay…but why would he suddenly—”
“Because Miles showed up out of the blue looking ultra-fabulous and—”
“Miles? Eric’s secretary? Why would he—?” He stopped abruptly and narrowed his gaze. “Oh, my God. What did you do?”
“Nothing!” I lied.
“Grant…” he prodded, shifting on his barstool to fully face me.
I didn’t answer right away. Frankly, I couldn’t believe I’d blurted what was supposed to remain top-secret info. That wasn’t like me. And now I wasn’t sure how to finesse the truth to something less sordid than reality.
“Um…” I slowly brought my mug to my lips and took a sip then sidled off my seat, away from Josh. The maneuver was stealthy if I did say so myself, but Josh wasn’t impressed.
He bolted up and rounded the island, then snatched the mug from my fingers and glowered at me. “Did you fuck him?”
“Jesus, Josh. No! And you’re a dad now. You shouldn’t be talking like that,” I scolded in a weak-ass attempt to get him off my back.
“Nice try. You did something. Spill it. Why would Miles randomly drop by your office?”
“It’s not what you’re thinking. I mean…nothing happened. Okay, something happened but it won’t happen again and—”
“What the hell? Eric told you to be nice to Miles, not to have sex with him!”
“We didn’t have sex.”
Josh crossed his arm and narrowed his gaze. “Did you see him naked?”
“Uh, well…yeah, but—”
“Did you touch his dick?”
“Really, Josh?”
“And with more than just your fingers, I’m guessing. Dude, that’s sex. You had sex with Eric’s secretary. Oh, boy. Does Eric know?”
“No! And don’t tell him. We didn’t do it…you know what I mean.” I inclined my head when Josh supplied a lewd finger in hole adolescent gesture. “Right. And it will never happen again, so no one needs to know.”
“Except your dad knows.”
“He doesn’t know anything! He’s just interested in selling a package,” I insisted, pacing to the other end of kitchen to lean against the counter.
“Sounds like he’s worried about the guy he thinks saw your package,” he snarked.
“He has nothing to worry about, and neither does Eric, so please…keep it to yourself. Okay?”
Josh nodded but held my gaze curiously. “Something is missing. You weren’t drunk that night. Old habits die hard, Grant. I’ve been watching out for you since our freshman year when I caught Garrett Bingham blowing you in the bathroom. I wouldn’t have interrupted, but you hated that guy, and it made zero sense that you’d let him anywhere near your dick.”
“This was different. I like Miles.”
“So do I, but I wouldn’t sleep with him!”
“That’s because you’re practically married with a kid.”
“True. But even if I wasn’t, Miles isn’t just anyone,” he said sternly.
“You don’t have to tell me that,” I snapped.
Josh sighed heavily and reached out to grab my elbow when I turned away. “Sorry. I just worry about you sometimes. Especially when your parents visit. You get all melancholy and down on yourself. I should have checked on you.”
“We’re not in college anymore, Josh. I have my shit together, and I don’t need a babysitter. Even a well-intentioned one. So thanks, but…back off.”
“Hang on!” He yanked my shirt hard enough to pull it from my jeans. I growled as I swiveled and gripped his wrist then twisted it behind his back.
“I’m going home now, and we’re going to forget this conversation, got it?”
“Fuck, you’re strong,” he grumbled, rubbing his wrist dramatically when I released him. “Wait up. Since we’re sharing secrets, I’ve got one for you. It’s more of a heads-up, but in light of what you just told me, you should know that Eric is going to ask you to help Miles find an apartment in the city.”
“What?” I furrowed my brow in confusion. “Why would he—”
“Miles is moving here, and I may have volunteered that Kostas Realty has a business relocation program. Something I was kind of proud I remembered from my short stint as Talia’s assistant. When you said he came by, I thought maybe that was why but…whatever. Look, you’re the boss. You can give it to one of your minions to handle, but Talia knows everything that goes on there. If she recognizes Miles as the guy your dad was worried about, shit could get weird.”
I swiped my fingers through my hair and fixated on the pink baby blanket draped over one of the barstools, hoping it would calm me, because Josh was right. This was weird. Very weird. I had to keep my cousin away from Miles. Talia had supermom powers. She could sniff a hint of bullshit before it even left your mouth. One conversation with Miles and she’d know everything.
But was that so bad?
Maybe I was overthinking this. Maybe it wasn’t such a big deal. So I had a one-night stand with Miles. So what? We mutually agreed not to mention it again. We were just casual acquaintances. He was my friend’s secretary and I was…fucked.
Lying might come naturally to some, but not to me. The stabbing jolt of awareness made it almost impossible to not think about that night. Given a few weeks or a month or two, I’d be fine. But if he walked into my office or even set an appointment to meet with one of my cousins about relocating, I’d become consumed all over again. The only solution was to head this off before it got out and everyone lost their minds.
Chapter 5
The following morning, I felt like myself again. Josh talked me into staying for lunch when Finn returned from taking Anna home. An afternoon spent with friends was exactly what I needed to slow my turbulent thoughts and relax. I had a tendency to blow things out of proportion in my head and cover my madness with a smile and an “everything’s cool” vibe that in no way matched the self-doubt and worry going on inside. My friends kept me grounded.
Josh and Finn’s proud papa stories offset my self-indulgent musings. They made me laugh and forget my problems. So much so that I didn’t mind the chore of rearranging my townhouse when I got home late that afternoon. I’d happily popped one of my mom’s premade dinners into the oven then sat back with my feet on my newly decluttered coffee table and watched reruns of The Office until my eyes crossed. There were no major issues. At least nothing I couldn’t handle. I just needed a fresh start on a regular ho-hum Monday.
* * *
“Good morning, handsome. You survived!” Talia exclaimed from my doorway before moving into my office and sliding a folder across my desk.
She was dressed in a black, tapered dress that accentuated her figure and a pair of high heels so tall she came up to my chin. The spark of amusement in her expression went a long way toward resetting the balance. God, it felt good to be back to normal.
“Yeah. We all did. Thanks for helping out with my dad.”
“It was my pleasure. I love Uncle Andreas. He still puts sweets in my pocket and tells me I’m beautiful,” she said with a girlish sigh.
“That’s kind of lecherous in the workplace, Tal.”