Autumn - 19. My Hometown

“Dads, this is ridiculous.” CJ looked over at César sitting on the aisle spot. He’d claimed it using the need to stretch out his long legs as an excuse. Brett ended up trapped in the middle. “After those train rides, I feel like a sardine in this stupid plane. Is this like the worst airline in the world?”

“Not even close, but not one of the best ones either. Captain, why don’t we lease a plane?” asked César in a joking way.

“You nuts? Grandfather used to have one. He was always complaining about something or other. The contractors did this. The contractors didn’t do that. The one way I think it would be worth doing is if we went all out and bought the plane. And a hangar. And hired our own staff. And―”

“So, when are we going shopping, Papa?”

“Not!” Brett looked at CJ seriously for just a moment. “But if you wanna learn how to fly we can sign you up for lessons.”

“Ummm. Nah. Maybe one day. But I wanna be able to drive a car legally first. Need to get my learner’s permit as soon as I turn sixteen, and then practice like every day until I’m allowed to take the road test.”

“Stop trying to complicate our life, Jarhead. I was kidding about the plane anyway. I have enough to worry about already. The thought of CJ in a little plane, flying off somewhere by himself is not comforting.”

“Hey, I have a great idea. Let’s make Abuelo and Abuela fly to Washington next year. We can have Thanksgiving at our house. They could stay longer, and we would be together for more than just three days.”

“Not bad, champ. You may be on to something there. Wadda you think, Emperor?”

“Let’s see what they think of it. Rico and Lynne would have to agree to it also.”

 

Sebastián and Rosario Abelló purchased the Mediterranean-style house at 1810 Alhambra the year they moved to South Florida. The Coral Gables home was large and much too quiet most of the time these days; their children had grown up and moved away over the years. But at least one weekend every November, it was crowded and noisy when the family gathered over the Thanksgiving holiday.

“ǃQue grande estás!” Abuela Abelló smothered CJ against her, repeatedly kissing her grandson.

“Abuela, please. I can’t breathe!” The laughing boy returned his grandmother’s embrace and kissed her on both cheeks.

“Bah! You’re being silly. How about a kiss for your mother, César?” The smiling woman turned to her youngest son, wrapping her arms around his waist, her head coming up no further than his chest.

“Hola, Mami. You’re looking well.” César bent down and kissed his mother on the forehead. “Something smells terrific.”

Brett was next in line to be hugged and kissed by his septuagenarian mother-in-law. “¿Como estás, Rosario?”

“You’re in trouble with me, gringo. Speaking Spanish won’t help you. How dare you get married to my baby and not tell us until after the ceremony?”

“Don’t blame me! It’s your son’s fault. He decided Rico would be his only guest since the other three grooms wouldn’t be having family there. The Abellós would have taken over the party.”

“Mueve el culo, mujer. Let the boys in the house before you start harassing them.” The tall, silver-haired man affectionately spanked his wife’s behind, opened his mouth to display two rows of perfect teeth, and opened his arms, moving towards CJ. “¡Campeón! ¿Como está mi nieto favorito?”

“Hey! I heard that. What the heck are Randy and I? Chopped liver?” Rod chuckled as he moved in to bump fists with his cousin. Randy and Tyler following close behind.

“What’s everyone screaming about?” asked Ty looking at his boyfriend. “I need to learn some Spanish if I’m going to be part of this family.”

“Abuelo called CJ his favorite grandson,” explained Randy.

Brett reached over to shake hands with the three young men from Chicago. “Just do what I did, bud. Learn a couple of greetings, a few curse words, and smile a lot. Thanks for taking care of CJ when he went to visit.”

“Yeah. About that. We’re sorry.” Randy looked at his partner and his brother with a somber expression. “CJ told us what happened when―”

“Stop. I screwed up, guys. I overreacted and made an ass of myself. You have nothing to apologize for.” Brett’s contrite smile made CJ feel good. He was proud his big marine father was willing to admit in public he’d been wrong.

“I have no idea what you boys are talking about.” Rosario exaggeratedly shook her head. “And I probably don’t want to know. Come on in and get comfortable. We’ll eat in a half hour or so.”

“Ummm, I’m not staying for dinner, Abuela” CJ’s comment earned him a look of surprise from his grandmother.

“What? What do you mean you’re not eating? Where are you guys going?” There was a look of consternation on the woman’s face as she looked back and forth between her grandson and her son.

“It’s just CJ, Mami. We came here right from the airport. Haven’t even checked into the hotel yet.”

“Yeah, Abuela. I’m spending the night at Aba’s, so I can hang out with Ritchie tonight. You know we’ve always spent the night before Thanksgiving over there.”

“But I thought since you aren’t living here anymore, you’d at least eat with us. I was making extra tostones. I miss not being able to cook for you.”

“And I miss you too, Abuela, even though I love living with Dad and Papa. Somebody will pick me up tomorrow morning. I’ll be here right after lunch when everyone else comes over to watch football.”

“If I can borrow your car, we’ll take CJ, Uncle César.” Rod’s offer was seconded by vigorous nodding from Randy and Tyler.

“That works.” Brett threw the keys of the rental car to the twins; Rod snatched them out of the air right in front of his brother’s chest.

“Come on, cuz. Let’s get you on the road so we can get back here and eat,” said Tyler pushing the boy out the door.

“Hang on! Gimmie a minute so I can say hi to Uncle Rico and Aunt Lynne.”

 

“Done!” CJ leaned back into his seat on the passenger side of the car, a smug smile on his face. They had just left Coral Gables and were traveling west on Bird Road at the moment. “The address is in the GPS. That should keep you from getting lost. Plus, it’ll help you return to Abuelo’s place tonight. And get back to Aba’s to pick me up tomorrow morning.”

“Thanks, CJ,” said Rod, glancing at the unit built into the information console.

“So, after the great time we had in Chicago with you, we wanted to see you again.” Randy sat right behind the boy, next to Ty. “And since you’re jet-setting off to Australia over Christmas…”

“Jealousy does not look good on you, cuz. Real glad to see you guys too.”

“Shut up, CJ. Let me finish. Since we weren’t getting together again until sometime next year, we wanted to make sure everything was cool. I mean, with Uncle Brett and you.”

“Ummm, yeah. It’s all good now. I told you guys we worked it out. Papa got overprotective and seriously pissed me off. We barely talked for two or three days. But then he apologized, big time. It’s been great since he did. He admitted he was being hypocritical since the first time he got laid he was even younger than me.”

“Can somebody explain something to me? How come the three of you call Rosario and Sebastián, Abuela and Abuelo, but CJ calls his other grandmother Aba? Is it some Spanish code to confuse the gringos?” Tyler’s question earned him a smooch from his boyfriend.

“Is my baby feeling left out?” asked Randy.

“That’s easy. Mom and I were living with her parents when I started talking. I couldn’t say the words right, so my grandmother became Aba, and my grandfather became Abo.”

“Oh, cool. And you’re just spending tonight there?”

“Yep. Wanna see them, and my little brother’s there for the night too.”

Rod glanced at his young cousin for a moment while they were stopped at a red light. “Are you seeing your mother and your step-father this weekend?”

“Mom I’ll see Friday morning. That’s according to the plan she agreed to so Ritchie and I could spend time together. My asshole step-father, I hope I never see again.”

 

 

“Morning, sleepy.” CJ sat in his grandparents’ kitchen, drinking café con leche, munching on fresh Cuban bread slathered with butter.

His younger brother yawned and scratched his head before responding. “Hi CJ. Hi Aba. I’m tired.”

“You boys stayed up late talking, didn’t you? Sit down, Ritchie. I’ll make you a cafecito to help wake you up. Is scrambled eggs with chopped ham okay for breakfast?” Their grandmother put down the long knife she’d been cutting ham slices with. “You want some orange juice?”

“Yes, please. What time are your cousins picking you up, CJ?” Ritchie’s big blue eyes fixed on his brother; the younger boy didn’t look too happy asking the question.

“Rod texted me a few minutes ago. They’ll be here by ten.” Unsure of what his first meeting with his mother would be like since his exile from home, he wanted to be gone before Lourdes and Rich came over.

“I wish you were staying the whole day,” said Ritchie pouting. “I miss hanging out with you.”

“Me too, bro. But we’ll see each other on Friday. Hey, the Heat looked good last night didn’t they?” The boys had watched the HEAT beat up on the Cleveland Cavaliers the previous evening. After the game, their grandparents had gone to bed and the brothers had stayed up talking for a long time. “I was hoping they’d be playing at home while I was in town. We could have gone to a game.”

“That would have been cool. Are you watching them when they play in Washington?”

“I hope so. Dad said he’d get us tickets. If they’re playing at home next time I come to Miami, I’ll take you to a game.”

“Neat! They better win the championship again. I want them to threepeat.”

“With Dwayne, LeBron, and Chris on the team, they’ll be in the finals for sure.”

 

From the back yard of the Abellós home in Coral Gables, across a canal and the fifteenth hole of the golf course, sat the Biltmore Hotel. Built in the 1920s, the Mediterranean-style structure had served different purposes over the years, including a stint as a Veteran’s Administration Hospital. In the late twentieth century, it reopened its doors as a luxury hostelry. It was where President and First Lady Clinton stayed during their frequent visits to South Florida. Because of how convenient it was to their parents’ house, it was also where César and Rico stayed when in Miami.

“What a creep!” CJ stormed out of the building onto the pool deck shaking his head. He kicked off his flip-flops, peeled off his black Salt Life t-shirt―with a skull in between the two words colored to resemble a scuba diving flag―chucked off his shorts, and sat on the lounge chair next to Rod. “Fuck him!”

“Who? Why? What happened?” asked Randy lifting his sunglasses, and raising himself from where he was laying on the other side of his brother. He looked around at the sparse crowd of guests sunning themselves, before adjusting the skimpy bathing suit barely covering his manhood.

“Where’d you go? We thought you were coming straight back here.” Tyler was in the water, hanging on to the coral rock edge of the pool, facing the twins.

“I was planning on it but got distracted. I went to talk to the concierge. I was looking for suggestions on where to find something I want to buy when we go shopping tomorrow.”

“Are you nuts? You’re shopping the day after Thanksgiving?” asked Rod. “What happened to get you all pissed off anyway?”

“We are going shopping. You’re playing chauffer for Ritchie and me. Don’t worry, we’re not going to a mall.” CJ smiled at his cousin’s surprised look. “And what happened is the creep asked me out!”

“The concierge? He asked you out? Like on a date? If he saw you walking around with us, he probably thought you were gay.” Tyler’s loud laughter attracted some attention from the other guests around the pool. “Cuz, ain’t it a bitch being a totally hot stud?”

“Fuck you too, Ty.” The boy jumped up from his spot and cannonballed into the pool right behind Tyler, splashing water over all the guys.

“Watch it, buster. You’re gonna get us thrown out,“ sputtered one of the twins wiping water from his face.

“So, where’s he taking you?” asked the other one.

“Please. The guy’s old enough to be our grandfather, and he invited me to go to the nude beach with him. Bad visuals. Very bad visuals.”

“You better not tell Uncle Brett. He’s liable to kill the fucker.” Tyler was once again laughing, barely able to get the words out.

“Nah. I hope I got the asshole fired already. I didn’t say anything to him after he asked me. Instead, I turned around, walked over to the front desk, and asked for the manager. Told him who I was and who I was traveling with, explained what happened, and made sure he knew I’m fifteen.”

“Randy, please remind me never to piss off our cousin.”

 

“I swear, your mother won’t be happy until I have a fat Cuban ass.” Brett patted his stomach, staring at the tip of his cigar with the floodlit tower of their hotel in the background.

Rico was quick to agree. “The amount of food she put out tonight was obscene.”

“Mmm. Big, muscular, marine ass…,” replied César, blowing a cloud of aromatic cigar smoke into the night air. The three men and CJ wore shorts and sports shirts, enjoying the balmy weather.

“Down, Dad.” CJ closed his eyes and smiled at the memories the scent of tobacco brought. One of his earliest recollections was of being enveloped in the sweet aroma while sitting on Abuelo’s knee as a toddler. “But, I agree, way too much food. You guys joining me for an early run around the golf course?”

“Ha! Not a chance, buddy. Your dad and I are sleeping in for a change. You’d have to roll me down the links anyway. The three of us are playing a round of golf with your grandfather mid-morning. That’ll be our exercise.”

“What are your plans for tomorrow, buddy?” asked César. “Rod told me he needed the car. Said you drafted him as your chauffer for the day.”

“Just for the morning. Mom’s dropping Ritchie off on her way to work. I want to do some shopping, but he wants to watch the University of Miami game in the afternoon. We’ll be back for lunch, or right after.”

“Where’re you going to watch the game?”

“Not sure, Dad. Either at the hotel, if they have it on a big screen somewhere or we’ll walk across the golf course, and come back here to the house.”

César turned his head slightly to look at his son. “Speaking of your mother, have you talked to her?”

“Nope. But I will when she brings Ritchie over in the morning. She’s dropping him off on her way to work. That’s why I plan to go for an early run. I want to be showered and dressed when she gets to the hotel.”

 

 

“CJ!” Ritchie ran up to his brother and hugged him before bumping fists with him.

“Hey, little brother. Morning, Mom.” Standing near the entrance to the hotel, a few steps away from the valet parking stand, CJ watched his mother get out of her car and walk toward him. “Thanks for letting Ritchie spend today and tonight with me.”

“Bah, not a problem. Rich and I made plans to go out tonight anyway. He would have slept at his grandmother’s.” Lourdes pushed her youngest son’s hair out of his eyes, all the while keeping her gaze on CJ. “Do I get a hug and a kiss?”

“Hang on. Ritchie, here’s the key to my room.” CJ put his hand on his brother’s back as he handed him the plastic card. “Wanna take your bag up? When you come back, we’ll get some breakfast. I’m starving.”

“Okay. Be right back.” The boy walked through the revolving glass door as CJ turned his attention back to his mother.

“No, Mom. One thing I’ve learned over the past few months is the value of honesty.” CJ kept reminding himself to stay calm, not to get angry or start crying. He was going to stand firm and not let his mother get to him. “A hug and a kiss would be fake. Sorry, but I don’t like you too much right now.”

“How can you say that?” asked Lourdes looking startled. “I’m your mother.”

“And I’m your son,” retorted CJ sharply. “But you kinda forgot that when you let your husband throw me out of the house. Didn’t you?”

“You’re too young. You can’t understand.”

“I may be young, but thanks to the two of you I’ve grown up a lot in the past six months. And I think I understand enough. Especially after finding out how I was conceived.”

“What do you mean? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“That you raped Dad?” CJ’s reply made Lourdes visibly wince.

“Your father broke his promise to me. He swore he would never tell you what happened.”

“He didn’t. My dad’s much too honorable to go back on his word. Uncle Rico, however, made no such promise to you. We had a long conversation last month when I was in Chicago. You are a selfish person, Mom. You care about yourself, first and last. Not much about anyone else.” CJ kept glaring at his mother, even after she averted her gaze. Realizing the woman was avoiding looking directly at him, he decided it was better to end the conversation. “I’m getting upset. I don’t want to talk to you anymore right now.”

“César and I have an agreement. You’re to maintain a relationship with me.” Her eyes darted everywhere, never meeting CJ’s.

“Who cares what the two of you agreed to? It’s my life, and I don’t have to go along with it. I’ll never forgive you for what you allowed your husband to do. In a way, he did me a favor. I have two great dads now. Those are my parents.”

“It might not be a good idea for Ritchie to be around you while you’re in this type of mood. Maybe it’s better if he stays with his grandmother today.”

“Forget it, Mom. Ritchie stays. He doesn’t need to find out what a bastard he has for a father, or how his mother only cares about herself. Do you want him hating you because you kept us apart?” CJ’s voice was full of anger as he spat the words out. “You keep him out of this. He’s a nice kid. Stop trying to piss me off. You wouldn’t want me to get nasty.”

“How dare you talk to me like this way? What have they done to you in Washington?”

“What have they done to me in Washington? They’ve shown me unconditional love and allowed me to grow up. I’ve learned how to stand up for myself. You and Rich aren’t the only bullies I’ve dealt with recently. Don’t mess up my relationship with Ritchie, and we’ll be fine. I’m hungry and I want to go eat. Have a nice day.” Without waiting for an answer, CJ turned around and walked into the hotel, not looking back at all.

 

He failed to notice his fathers had been sitting on one of the stone benches on the other side of the entrance to the hotel. Worried CJ would break down during his first meeting with Lourdes; they had decided to discretely observe the reunion. Twice during the confrontation between their son and his mother, Brett placed a hand on César’s arm, shaking his head to stop the man from interfering.

“Don’t,” whispered the marine. The woman had just raised her voice slightly, to ask CJ what had been done to him in Washington. “He’s doing fine. Our boy’s strong. In the long run, this will help him realize even more that he can stand on his own. It may also help clear out some of the demons still haunting him. This could be his final break with her and with this town.”

“What’s this place, CJ?” Ritchie was staring at the gray-colored silos rising next to the boxy structure painted the same color.

“It’s called the Bakehouse Art Complex, bro. The building was a bakery a long time ago. Now it has studio space for a bunch of artists in it.”

“And what are we doing here? It looks closed.”

“Nah. It’s not. I checked it out. It opens at nine on Fridays. People are at the malls today, which is nice. Means we won’t be fighting crowds. And we’re here to see if I can find a Christmas present for my dads.” CJ looked at his cousin who was locking their backpacks in the trunk of the car. “Thanks for driving us, Rod.”

“Hey, my pleasure. I think this looks kinda interesting. Places like this are good for unknown artists. Sometimes you discover great works in them.” Rod climbed the steps with the younger boys and held the door open as they stepped inside the building.

Ritchie had never met his brother’s cousin before this morning. He kept staring up at the tall guy after commenting on his height early on. “Where’s your boyfriend, Rod?”

“Oh boy!” CJ’s laughter echoed through the empty hallway.

“Ain’t got one, Ritchie. I’m single. And anyway, I’m not gay. Randy’s the one with the boyfriend.”

“Ooops,” exclaimed the youngster, quickly covering his mouth with a hand. “Sorry. I guess I got confused. Don’t be mad at me.”

“And why would I do that, bud?”

“Because I thought you were gay?”

“Ha! That’s nothing to get mad over. You and I are part of a special group. We both have super cool gay brothers.”

“Yeah!” Ritchie’s enthusiastic response made Rod smile. “Do you have a boyfriend, CJ? I forgot to ask you yesterday.”

“Nope. And I don’t want one right now. I’ve made some good friends in school, but I’m still getting used to living in Washington. It’s a big change. Maybe after I turn sixteen.”

“I wish I could come see where you live.”

 

“Do you think we could get a little more bread?” CJ smiled up at the young, olive-skinned server who was refilling the water glasses at their end of the long table. “My cousins seem to be starving. All I got was one small slice.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll bring it right away.”

“Damn, this is the same shit we had to deal with in Chicago.” Randy gently elbowed Tyler while shaking his head.

“Yep. Your cousin seems to be a magnet for cute servers. But hey, we benefit from it, so I’m not complaining.”

“Tyler, it’s not your cousin. It’s our cousin.”

“Isn’t that what I said?”

“No, you ass.” Rod shook his head and rolled his eyes. “He means CJ’s your cousin too. If you’re marrying Randy, it means you and the little man are related.”

“Who you calling little?” objected CJ. “And I think you guys are seeing things. The waiter’s just being nice and doing his job.”

“You guys are weird,” added Ritchie. “But you’re funny. It’s never this much fun when I go out to dinner with Mom and Dad. Their friends are boring.”

The extended Abelló clan was at Versailles Restaurant, an institution in the Miami Cuban-American community. Located on Calle Ocho, in the heart of Little Havana, it served typical Cuban food in large portions. It was a must-stop for tourists and politicians. Every election year, candidates found their way to the place, to drink a cafecito at the window, while shaking hands in front of the television cameras following them around.

“So glad we’re at this end of the table,” said César sarcastically, looking at the five younger guys. “They don’t seem to be having a good time.”

CJ patted his father’s arm in a consoling way. “It’s okay, Dad. Cheer up. I know you’re just depressed ‘cause you lost our bet today.”

“And what bet was that?” asked Lynne sitting next to Brett, facing her husband and her brother-in-law.

“Dad and I made a little wager on the football game this afternoon. The Hurricanes beat the University of Pittsburgh, so he lost. He has to do my chores next weekend.”

“I won’t have to. We’re on for double or nothing tomorrow. He actually thinks Florida State’s going to beat the Gators. Even though the game’s in Gainesville.”

 

“You better hope your Florida Gators win.” Brett had been kidding his husband all evening long after César lost their bet over a football game score.

“They have to win. I hate raking up leaves as much as CJ does.”

“You’re the one who decided he needed chores and got rid of the lawn service.”

“Don’t remind me. I hope I don’t have to regret that idea.”

“What did you think of Ritchie today?”

“Cute kid. Extremely well behaved. I feel bad for him. He obviously misses having his brother around.”

“Yep. Big case of hero worship there. You think we’re going to hear from Lourdes after what happened this morning?”

“Doubt it. There’s not much we can do anyway. She doesn’t realize what a strong person her son is.”

“Yeah, about that. I learned my lesson with the Chicago fiasco. Please remind me to never piss off our kid.”

 

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the beach with us, bro?” asked Randy, looking at his brother sitting across from him, having breakfast.

“Nah, you guys are going to spend all your time drooling over the good-looking muscle boys anyway.”

“And the problem with that would be?

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe that he’s straight?” Rico was shaking his head at the conversation between his two sons. “I think he’ll enjoy going deep sea fishing with Abuelo, the uncles, and me better.”

“Details, details.” Randy waved his fork in the air with a flourish. “Anyway, are you guys going to be out the whole day?”

Brett looked up from the bill the server had placed in front of him. “Nope. We booked a half-day. There’s some silly football game this afternoon someone wants to watch.”

“Silly my butt,” said César. “I seldom get to watch UF play on TV. Hell if I’m going to miss my chance. Plus, there’s the raking of leaves riding on this one. Ritchie, did you have a good time yesterday?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you. I miss having CJ around. I wish I could go to the beach with him today, but Mom said I had to be home.”

“You’re welcome, kiddo. And it’s always good to listen to your mother. I’ll see what we can do so you and CJ get to see each other again real soon.”

“Thanks for letting us use the car again, Dad.” CJ stood, picked up his backpack and Ritchie’s, and motioned to Randy and Ty with his head. “Let’s go, guys. We need to get my brother home before we head up to Fort Lauderdale.”

 

“Hey, guys! Over here! It’s great to see you again.” CJ recognized their server from the previous night waving at them from a few feet away. The muscle cub with the bright eyes and the shiny brown beard and hair smiled as he greeted them. Wearing a very brief bathing suit, with a series of patterns mostly in light blue, his goodies were clearly outlined for all to see.

“Hi, Uriel. I thought you lived in Miami. What are you doing up here?” CJ bumped fists with him while trying hard not to stare at the prominently displayed bulge. “Can we put our towels down here?”

“Sure. Join us, please. This is my boyfriend, Victor,” replied the young man, pointing at a smooth muscular guy lying on the towel next to him. The skin around Victor’s almond-shaped eyes crinkled as he removed his sunglasses; their shape and the rest of his facial features hinted at some sort of Asian background. “He lives here in Lauderdale. I came up yesterday after work and spent the night.”

“Good to meetcha, Victor. I’m CJ. The tall dude’s my cousin, Randy. The other one’s his boyfriend, Tyler.”

“Hey! Sup? Uri told me about working your table last night. He mentioned it was a bunch of good-looking guys. But I thought he said there were five of you?”

“Hi, Victor. There were five of us last night. My brother Rod decided to go fishing with the older guys in the family. CJ’s brother, Ritchie, had to go home. Those two are straight anyway. Not sure they’d fit in around here.”

“I thought you guys were from out of town.” Uriel ran his hand down the middle of his chest, wiping away beads of sweat clinging to the fur on his torso. “I also kinda figured you might be gay from some of the conversations I heard. Are you boys going to the White Party?”

“We are from out of town. CJ lives in Washington, and we live in Chicago.” Randy tucked the corners of his towel under the sand to prevent it from blowing away and pulled off his t-shirt before sitting. “We came down to spend Thanksgiving with our grandparents. Ty and I aren’t into the circuit party scene. We smoke weed, but all the other drugs we stay away from.”

“Sounds like Uri and me.” Victor glanced back and forth between the out-of-towners, moistening his lips with the tip of his tongue. “Crap. The three of you are all so hairy! I feel like a little kid around you. I’m so smooth.”

Uriel leaned over and kissed his boyfriend. “I like you smooth, baby. You know opposites attract. Today’s your lucky day. You get to spend time in the sun surrounded by the Fur Patrol.”

 

“Dad that was a seriously hard pounding you took.” CJ had been making snarky comments from the moment the game ended, with the Florida State Seminoles beating the Florida Gators by thirty points. “It’s going to be sooo nice not to have to do yard work for two weeks.”

“Keep it up, buddy. You just keep it up. It’s not a good idea to pick on your father this close to Christmas. I may have to tell Santa to put you on the naughty list.” César cleared off pieces of the cracked, mottled shell, stuck the fleshy delicacy in his mouth, and brought his teeth together against the sweet meat. All that remained behind, when he pulled his hand back and tossed the remains into the bowl at his side, was the center cartilaginous membrane still attached to the curved claw tip. The man closed his eyes, a smile formed on his lips, his appreciation for the stone crabs evident. “Ahhh, truly a gift of the gods.”

“Right! Like Santa’s going to take back my present and leave me home alone, while you two fly off to Australia. What do you think, Papa?”

“I think the two of you should keep talking. You’ll eat less, and there’ll be more left for me. This was a great idea, whoever thought of it. I don’t care how much of an experience it is to eat there. I refuse to wait in the stupid line at the restaurant. Getting food from Joe’s Take Away was smart.”

“That would be my wife who used her brains, Jarhead.” Rico winked at Lynne. “She’s addicted to the critters. We have them shipped to us a couple of times a year during the season.”

“It takes a woman to make the hard decisions.” Lynne rose slightly from her chair and took a small bow. “So, CJ, you’ve been traveling a lot the last two months. What’s next after Australia?”

“Nothing else planned, Auntie Lynne. I want Ritchie to come visit me for a long weekend. I’d love to show him around Washington.”

 

Miami International Airport was in a state of chaos early Sunday afternoon. It was crammed with people, lines were long, and patience seemed to be in short supply—typical for the last day of Thanksgiving weekend. The sizeable number of South Florida residents hailing from elsewhere in the country ensured a correspondingly large number of travelers during holidays. Families flocked to the Sunshine State for the opportunity to visit relatives and spend a precious few days in warm weather.

“I hate the damn crowds,” groused CJ. He’d given up the window seat to Brett, sitting between his two fathers this time. “I think you should buy a plane, Papa.”

“Nope. Ain’t happening.” César shook his head to reinforce his quick reaction. “Ostentatious, wasteful, dangerous―”

“Okay, okay. We get it,” chuckled Brett. “Can we at least splurge on first-class next year? Not like we can’t afford it.”

“Maybe…”

“Don’t know about you, CJ, but I hear a but there.”

“I’ve been thinking about what CJ said before. How would you two feel about skipping Miami next year, and celebrating Thanksgiving in Washington? My mom and dad could come spend at least a week with us, and the trip would be shorter for the Chicago crew.”

“Hell yeah! I’m all for that. CJ?”

“Ummm. Do I get a vote?”

“Of course you do, buddy.” César placed his hand on the boy’s knee and affectionately shook it. “Whaddaya say?”

CJ stared at his lap as he thought about his response. “Not sure, dads. It would be fun to have the abuelos in Washington and get to spend more time with them. But then I don’t get to see Ritchie or the other grandparents.”

“We could come down around Christmas instead,” suggested Brett. “We would spend more than three days. Washington would be colder then anyway, so we’d get a little warm weather in the process.”

“Speaking of warm weather. Did you wear sunscreen at all this weekend?” César took his son’s chin in his hand, and turned his face toward him. “You’re really red.”

“Nah! I wanted to get red. It’ll turn dark in a couple of days.” CJ snickered, looking at his father while wiggling his eyebrows. “I’ll be the only white boy at Walls with a tan this week.”

“Not smart, dude. Ever hear of melanoma?” Brett shook his head in disapproval. “I used to get real dark growing up. Spent all my time surfing, and wasn’t smart enough to slather on protection when I got out to the beach. Got burned more than once.”

“But, Papa. Look at you. You’re blond. And your skin’s real light. Of course you’re gonna burn. Anyway, back to Thanksgiving and Christmas. Going down to Miami for a week in December would be cool.”

César rummaged through his backpack, took out his reading glasses and a book, and settled back into the seat. “I’ll talk to my parents, and to my brother. See what they think.”

“Cool,” said CJ, taking out his headphones, ready to listen to music and maybe take a nap. “It’d be cool to have the family in my hometown.”