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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Travels - 9. Rocky Ground
Sunday, 3 August 2014
Although they’d both slept a couple of hours on the first leg of their trip, the almost twenty-four hours of traveling and twelve-hour time difference left CJ and Owen tired and grumpy when they arrived in Miami on Saturday. Brett and César in contrast were tan, smiling, and appeared relaxed―the dads later told CJ they had spent the previous two days playing golf and laying out by the pool. They were waiting for the weary travelers when the two young men finally cleared customs and immigration and the four of them stopped for a quick bite to eat before heading to their hotel and calling it an early night.
Knowing he would be waking up early on Sunday, CJ wanted to hit the spa at the Biltmore Hotel where they were staying. He found no interest in the others for a morning workout, so he promised to give them a wake-up call once he returned to his room to shower before they all headed to brunch.
“Oh no, that won’t work,” CJ vigorously shook his head when he saw the way Owen was dressed. He placed a hand in the middle of the Aussie’s chest and gently pushed him back inside the room. “Dude, this is South Florida, you gotta dress the right way.”
“What’s wrong with this?” Owen asked, looking down at what he was wearing―slacks, a dress shirt with a tie, and a sports jacket. “This is what I wear when the family goes out for a nice brunch after church.”
“You’re wearing too damn much, bud. Miami’s just as relaxed and casual as Australia. Maybe even more so. Lose the jacket and the tie. Open up a few buttons to show some skin and roll up the sleeves. The dads will probably be dressed like you, but I refuse to put on long pants unless I have to.” CJ wore topsiders, dressy khaki shorts, and an untucked, white, button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. An extra button open below the neck revealed the patch of dark chest hair.
“But this is a fancy place,” Owen whined. “And I’m meeting your grandparents for the first time. I’m kinda nervous and I want to look my best.”
“You look great.” CJ leaned in and gave his friend an affectionate peck on the cheek. “Stop worrying. The abuelos are cool. They’ll love you. Now get rid of the excess stuff and let’s go downstairs. The dads already went down saying they needed a Bloody Mary.”
The Biltmore Hotel Sunday Champagne Brunch was an over-the-top affair CJ compared to a Roman bacchanalia while riding the elevator down to the lobby. It was something he’d done with César and Brett each time his dads had come to visit while he still lived with his mother and stepfather. The extravagant buffet displayed around the edges of the open courtyard included caviar, smoked salmon, shellfish, carved meats, fresh omelets, pasta, sushi, and more. Brunch ended with a table full of tempting desserts. All of this was enjoyed al fresco while a jazz band played in the background.
“Good morning, Owen. How’d you sleep?” César waved at the man when the younger guys stepped into the hotel’s lobby. He and Brett were sitting on comfortable-looking couches with two tall glasses in front of them each with a celery stalk sticking out the top.
“G’day. I slept great, thanks. I was more tired than I thought.”
“Brett, why don’t you take Owen over to the bar and get him a cocktail? Something to keep him entertained while we wait for my parents.”
“Hey! What about me? Don’t I get a bloody too?” CJ asked.
“Nope,” César answered. “You’re back in the land of legal drinking age being twenty-one. No booze for you in public places.”
“Damn! I shoulda stayed in Sydney. Go ahead, Owen, I’ll wait here with Dad.”
“Good, I need to talk to you for a minute anyway.” César lowered his voice while watching Brett throw an arm around the Aussie’s shoulders and guide him towards the bar. “Check it out, CJ. Papa looks funny as shit with his arm around your buddy. He has to reach higher than he does with me. Owen’s a tall fucker.”
“Don’t remind me,” CJ grumbled. “After the growth spurt I had last year I thought I’d end up being as tall as you. But I haven’t grown any since I moved to Washington. I think I’m destined to be the shortest one in the crowd.”
“You may still grow some. Anyway, I need a favor. Once we get seated, I want you to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom or look at the food and follow our server.”
“Okay, and what am I supposed to do with him when I catch him?” CJ smirked and wiggled his eyebrows eliciting a grunt from his father.
“Asshole! Stop thinking about sex all the time.” César leaned into CJ and whispered in his ear, making the boy smile and nod vigorously.
“RUBIO!” The shout made CJ turn to look at the speaker. “Where’s my grandson? And more importantly, why aren’t you carrying a Bloody Mary for me?” Sebastián Abelló stared at Brett who was returning from the bar with Owen beside him.
César stood, shook his head, and walked around the couch towards his parents. “What’s wrong, Papi? Is your volume control broken again?”
“Yeah, Abuelo,” CJ put in. “We could have heard you all the way over at your house if we’d been there.”
“CJ!” Rosario Abelló exclaimed, spreading her arms wide and motioning for her grandson to hug her. “Como estás, mijo?”
“I’m doing great, Abuela. We have to stick to English, okay? My friend doesn’t speak any Spanish at all.”
“Campeón, I want a hug too.” Sebastián took a step towards his grandson and wrapped the boy up in his arms. “I see you brought us another rubio.” The distinguished-looking older man, with the short-cropped white goatee, then proved his volume control was functioning. He lowered his voice and whispered in CJ’s ear. “Is he your boyfriend?”
“No!” CJ exclaimed, wiggling out of his grandfather’s embrace. “Solamente amigos.”
“What’s rubio mean, Captain?” Owen asked quietly.
“Blond. That means you and me, dude.”
“Owen, get over here.” César motioned for the Aussie, who CJ had just referred to as only a friend, to take a couple of steps closer to where his parents were still fussing over CJ. “Mami, Papi, this is our friend, Owen Liston. I told you about him yesterday.”
“Señor y señora Abelló, es un placer,” Owen said, glancing back and forth between the older couple.
“Huh?” CJ scrunched up his face in disbelief. He hadn’t taught Owen how to say it was a pleasure when being introduced. Then his father tapped him on the shoulder and pointed at Brett who was pumping a fist in the air in a clear sign of victory.
“Great accent,” Sebastián said, reaching to take Owen’s hand in his and vigorously pumping it. “Welcome to Miami.”
“Bienvenido a Miami.” Rosario rose on her tiptoes and motioned for Owen to bend down before kissing him on the cheek.
“Dad, I’m leaving if they start singing the Will Smith song. I couldn’t handle my grandparents rapping.”
“Hush. Don’t put ideas into my father’s head.” Looking over at Brett, César winked at his husband and tilted his head towards the open French doors in the back of the room. “Let’s head to the patio, everybody.”
The Biltmore Hotel courtyard was dominated by a stone fountain gurgling away, a soothing sound that underplayed the hum of conversations. Between the walls of the hotel and the open-air square, was a covered colonnade lined with tables laid out with crisp white cloths and overburdened by platters of food and chaffing dishes.
“Hey, Abuela,” CJ said once they’d been seated. “Can I bring some clothes over and use your washing machine?”
“Of course you can. But you don’t need to do it. I’ll be happy to wash it for you. You too, Owen. If you need anything washed I’ll take it with me.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Abelló but I have a lot of clothes with me. I’ll wait to do laundry until we get to Washington.”
“Speaking of Washington,” César interjected. “We get in Saturday, but JP and Tom will be in Boston. They’ll return on Sunday. We have keys to their place but you’re welcome to use one of our guest rooms. Now that the basement’s finished, we have plenty of space.”
“Is it done?” CJ asked. “Did you take any pictures?”
“Nope,” Brett replied. “When we left it was clean and empty. The decorator will supervise furniture placement this week when it’s delivered and hang up some of the artwork.”
“We’ll finish the decorating part once we get back,” César added. “We wanted you to help us in that area. There’s a couple of things we know we want down there, but the rest we haven’t figured out yet. Now, how about we get up and hit the buffet? I’m hungry.”
The meal stretched out over two hours as CJ and Owen repeatedly rose to refill their plates. While they were interrogated about CJ’s recent trip to Australia, Owen was peppered with questions about his background and his family.
“Hey, Dads, do you remember the biker from Florida I mentioned?”
“The one we met on our ride through Shenandoah National Park?” Brett asked. “You said you lost his card―”
“I did. But I googled the club and found out how to get in touch with them. We should rent bikes, call him, and go riding with his group.”
“When do they meet?”
“Ummm, Sunday mornings for breakfast.”
“Maybe next trip,” César suggested. “Too late today and we’ll be gone next Sunday.”
“Hey, who’s gonna take me to Aba’s tonight? Ritchie already texted me asking what time I was planning on being there.”
“Are you taking Owen with you?” César asked.
“If he still wants to go, yes. We talked about it on the flight and I told Ritchie to tell Aba I was bringing a friend with me.”
“Then you can drive yourself. You can’t use our rental because you’re not old enough. But you can borrow Mami’s car. It’ll be dark by the time you return, and you still have the nighttime restriction, but as long as Owen’s with you it’ll be okay. He’s old enough.”
“What about tomorrow? I wanna take Owen sightseeing, and I promised Ritchie he could come with.”
“You can borrow my car for the entire week,” Rosario interjected. “I’m cooking tomorrow night so you have to be back in time for dinner. Are you going to bring your brother over?”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to ask Lourdes if I can.”
“You’re calling your mother?” Brett asked, sounding surprised.
“Nah, I’ll prolly see her at Aba’s. She’s dropping Ritchie off, and I’m sure I’ll already be there when she does.”
“By the way,” César said, “you need to let your grandmother and your brother know we won’t be in Miami for Thanksgiving. Mami and Papi agreed to come to Washington and so did Rico and Lynne. But the plan’s for us to fly down for Christmas.”
“Rico’s dad’s brother and Lynne’s his wife,” CJ explained to Owen. “Are the cousins coming too?”
“Yep. Rod and Randy will be there and so will Tyler,” Brett replied. “But at least one of them will be over before then too. We want their input on the theatre.”
“I meant to ask about it, Papa. I found a few pictures of the place when I googled it. It’s a dump!”
“Yep, it definitely is. But we want to restore some of the historical flavor to it. Since there’s no outside financing involved, the closing should be soon. We’re hoping by the end of the month we’ll own it.”
“Cool, I can’t wait to go check it out.”
“One other thing, CJ. Papa and I are throwing ourselves a wedding anniversary party two weeks from today. You’ll be there too, Owen,” César added, looking at the Aussie. “It’ll be a joint celebration with JP and Tom.”
“You’re having a party on a Sunday?” CJ asked.
“It’ll be an afternoon thing. And you’ll need to be on your best behavior that day. We’re turning it into a fundraiser for one of the mayoral candidates.”
“Really?”
“With us opening a new real estate development company, we need to make sure we’re friendly with the politicians.
“Enough of this planning stuff,” Sebastián said. “Let’s get our waiter over here, I’ll take care of the bill and we can head over to the house. I’m ready for a cigar.”
“Then we can go, Abuelo. I already took care of the check.” CJ’s grin matched the one on his father’s face and it grew wider when he saw his grandfather’s surprise.
“What? When? How?”
“That was eloquent.” Brett couldn’t stop chuckling.
“Shut up, gringo, this is between me and my grandson. What did you do, CJ?”
“Oh, nothing much. I gave my credit card to the server when we first sat down, asked him to add the tip, and he already closed it out.”
Sebastián shook his head and stared at his son. “Your father put you up to it, didn’t he? That’s an old trick I taught him when he was young.”
“Hey! I’m still young,” César objected.
“Whatever.” CJ waved his hand dismissively and stood. “I’ve paid, I have my credit card back, and I’m ready to go whenever you are.”
“Fine, but you’re going to suffer for this one. It’s not nice to fool your grandfather.” Sebastian looked at their group as one by one they stood. “Hmmm, I’m not sure how comfortable the six of us will be in the car. The four of you are all pretty big. Maybe we should call a taxi?”
“Not worth it, Papi. You and Mami head on back.” César helped his mother up and kept a hand on her back as they headed for the exit. “We’ll walk across the golf course.”
“You guys go ahead,” CJ said, pushing his chair towards the table. “I need to go up to my room and throw what I want to wash in my backpack.”
“I’ll come with you,” Brett added. “I left my phone in the room.”
César and Owen strolled across the fairway on their way to the Abelló home, the Aussie complaining about how much he’d eaten. “CJ told me this is the house you grew up in?”
After César’s parents had retrieved their car from the valet, the two men had started towards the family home, telling Brett and CJ to follow whenever they were ready.
“Yes, it is. My parents bought it when we moved to Miami from Puerto Rico and I lived here through high school and college.”
“But this is not really Miami, is it? I read the hotel brochure last night and it named a different city.”
“Technically, it’s Coral Gables. The cities around here run into each other. To the world, it’s all Miami, but this one’s a bit wealthier than most others in the county.”
Owen was silent for a moment, he seemed unsure of what he wanted to say. “I been meaning to talk to you and the Captain about money. You know my family’s not poor, but I’m realizing we have nowhere near the same amount of money you guys do. I was always taught to stand on my own two feet and not to take advantage of others and I’m having a problem with that right now.”
“Why’s that?” César asked as they stopped to allow a foursome to hit their balls before crossing the green on their way to 1810 Alhambra.
“When you guys invited me, I was fine with you paying for the extra airfare for the stop in Miami. But I wasn’t expecting my flight from Sydney to be upgraded to business class. Or for the ones within the US to be first class. And I definitely wasn’t expecting my own room at a fancy hotel. It kinda bothers me.”
“Get over it, buddy. You used the magic word in there. We invited you. You’re our guest. Same as if we had invited you to our home.”
“But I feel like I’m taking advantage of you!”
“Look, Owen, my family did okay with money. My father made plenty in construction, first in Puerto Rico when we lived there, and then in Miami when we moved here. But I might as well have been homeless and destitute compared to Brett. I didn’t find out how much he was worth until sometime after we’d met. The silly man hadn’t bothered to tell me how much he was worth when he asked me for tax advice.”
“That must have been interesting.”
“Oh, it was.” César shook his head and chuckled, remembering the conversation from years ago. “He may have uttered an oops when I saw his tax return and asked him about the amount of income. I mean, as far as I knew he was a junior officer in the Marine Corps, and I was certain you didn’t become wealthy as part of the military. At least not in the United States.”
“So what happened?”
“It was a long afternoon. I complained about him not being open with me. Brett filled in the details about his family he’d never bothered to share. He explained how he’d inherited money from both his parents and grandparents and how he didn’t make a big deal out of it. It took me a few days to process everything. But in the end, love wins and it did in this case. I was already head-over-heels with my GI Joe and I wasn’t going to allow a few hundred million dollars to come between us.”
“A few hundred million?” Owen visibly gulped. “Crap, I don’t know what to do. I’m uncomfortable having you or CJ spend so much money on me. I’m a bloody mess.”
“I think you better get your shit together, son. Time to butch up and not be a bitch about it. Sorry if that sounds harsh but it’s time to stop feeling sorry for yourself. What the fuck good does that do? You were chasing after my son while we were in Australia last year. And I see the way you look at him now. By the time CJ has access to his trust fund, he’ll have more money than he could possibly spend in a lifetime. And when Brett and I die, he’ll inherit even more. Remember, he’s our only son and heir. I have no idea what will happen between the two of you, but you may as well know if anything does develop, Brett and I will have no problems with it. We approve of you.
“So, what’s it gonna be? You either walk away right now or you bite the bullet, swallow your pride, and accept the fact my son’s wealthy. And if the two of you end up together, so will you.”
• • •
Brett and CJ could see César and Owen walking a good distance ahead of them when they finally stepped on the fairway. Once Brett had his phone in hand, he shared some of the pictures of the inside of the Georgetown Theatre and talked about what they had in mind for it.
“We’d like to use the first floor for retail or maybe a restaurant if we can find a tenant with the right concept. We don’t want a chain or one of the famous starchefs. We’d like a local. And that fits in with the rest of our plans.”
“What do you mean?” CJ asked, shifting the backpack with the dirty clothes to his other shoulder.
“This is a little complicated. Let me see if I can make it short and simple. Anyway, we want to create an apartment in the front section of the second floor and office space in the back.”
“Will that be for your new business?”
“That’s the plan. It’s going to take at least a year but where we are should work for now.”
“Okay, what did you mean when you said it was complicated?”
“Look, CJ, money was never a big deal for me. I knew I didn’t have to do anything and I would still have plenty. So, I left it all in the hands of the professional managers my family had used. Then I met your dad and I started paying attention to what I had and what I'd be getting as I got older.”
“I guess his being a tax accountant may have had something to do with that, eh?”
“You bet your ass.” A grinning Brett swatted CJ’s butt and quickly moved away to avoid any potential reprisal. “The first time I asked for advice and showed him a copy of my tax return I thought he was going to choke on his words. I’d never told him how much I was worth. After I explained how I had such a nice nest egg when I was only a marine, the fucker pointed out a couple of things that would save me a shitload on taxes. I’d never bothered with that stuff too much. I had more than enough and never thought about actively trying to make more.”
“But you changed your mind?”
“A little at first. I turned over everything I had and your father slowly but surely gained insights on how my money, and what was in the trust funds, was invested. During the Bush recession, he suggested we take advantage of the downturn and started picking up properties around D.C.”
“So you took advantage of people who lost their place? You guys bought foreclosures?” CJ wasn’t sure he liked his dads profiting from other people’s problems.
“Yes and no. We picked up most of the units we own today in foreclosure, but we refused to buy anything which was a home for anyone. All the units we acquired were owned by investors, both individuals, and corporations. They gambled on the over-inflated values and when they crashed, we stepped in. We probably helped a few of them out by making them an offer when we did.
“And then you came into the picture. All of a sudden I had a son and the possibility I could one day have grandchildren hit me. I gained access to the remainder of my trusts when I got married and after the helicopter crash, I decided I was ready for a change. We want to build a solid business. One you could take over if you want to when you’re old enough. No pressure there, it’s only a possibility.
“Your dad and I also want to try and make a difference with our money. You could say your interest in other people’s welfare has inspired us. We want to do good with our wealth and creating a development company will help us do it. I’ll fill you in on details of how we see it happening later. There’s your grandparents’ house now.”
“I can’t believe your grandmother just handed you the keys to her Beemer,” Owen said, unbuckling his seat belt and opening the door. “Mate, this car is mint!”
“Yeah, it’s a pretty cool car, but it’s like five years old,” CJ replied. They’d spent the afternoon relaxing by the pool before borrowing the car and heading to the Westchester neighborhood where his other grandparents lived.
“So what? It’s still the fanciest, most expensive car I’ve ever been in.”
“You can drive it later. But you have to promise to stay on the proper side of the road. I don’t need an accident right before school starts.”
“You’re such a wanker. I can see why your dads call you an asshole all the time.”
“Oh, that’s only ‘cause they love me!” CJ replied, grinning as he knocked on the front door which opened immediately.
“CJ, mi amor!” The dark-haired woman, wearing a simple blue house dress with yellow flowers, barely came up to the boy’s chest. “Where’s your father? Did he drop you off or did your friend drive you?”
“No, Aba. I drove myself. I have a license now. This is Owen,” he said untangling himself from the bone-squeezing hug his grandmother had wrapped him in. “He’s the one I went to visit in Australia.”
“Come in, boys. Come in. It’s nice to meet you, Owen. Welcome to Miami. How long are you visiting the United States for?”
“Thank you, ma’am. I’m not really visiting. I’ll be in Washington for at least the next three years going to law school.” Owen followed CJ and his grandmother as they walked through the living room of the modest house. She pushed a swinging door with the two young men on her heels, entered the kitchen, and moved towards the stove top.
“Owen’s cousin’s one of Dad’s best friends, Aba. He bought the house next to ours, so Owen will be our neighbor. I guess Ritchie’s not here yet?” CJ asked, motioning for Owen to sit with him at the small table tucked into a corner of the room.
“Your mother’s bringing him over. They should be here real soon. And, CJ? I don’t want you and Lourdes fighting in front of him, okay?”
“I don’t want to fight with her, Aba. I promise I’ll behave.”
“Good. After your brother returned from his visit to Washington, his father wasn’t happy. He claimed César was trying to corrupt the boy because of all the presents he got while he was in Washington. Your brother couldn’t stop talking about you, the city, your dads, your house, and your friends. I think it bothered Rich the boy had such a good time. One night they were over here for dinner and we argued. I warned him that if he interfered with you spending time together he was going to have to deal with a very angry woman. Me!”
“He, he, he. I bet Rich ran away scared. Rich’s my step-father, Owen,” CJ said looking at his friend. “He thinks I’m a bad influence on my brother and I may make him gay.”
“But that’s impossible. You can’t just turn someone gay.”
“Even I know that!” Olga exclaimed. “I may not understand why two guys or two girls like each other that way, but CJ’s my grandson, and I love him no matter what. That man doesn’t realize the world’s changing and keeps talking about the good old days. I’m not sure what he’s babbling about. The good old days he refers to weren’t that good to begin with. I remember when we first arrived in Miami and there were signs in front of stores on the beach that said, No Dogs-No Jews-No Negroes-No Cubans.”
“That was back in the early sixties, Owen,” CJ explained. “When people started leaving Cuba in large numbers―”
“CJ?” The shout was followed by the front door slamming shut.
“In the kitchen,” CJ yelled, standing up with a big grin on his face. Moments later, the swinging door opened and Ritchie ran in, throwing his arms around his brother. “Hey, bro!” His attention was quickly diverted to a small ball of fur trying to climb up his leg while yapping away.
“Wingnut!” Ritchie called out, bending over and picking the puppy up. “Sorry, CJ, he gets all excited when he meets people.”
“He’s adorable, mate. Can I hold him?” Owen tentatively extended his arm to pet the dog and was rewarded with a happy-sounding yip and a wet nose trying to burrow into the palm of his hand.
“Sure,” Ritchie replied, lifting the animal and gently placing it on the Aussie’s outstretched arms. “His name’s Wingnut and he’s like less than three months old.”
“Oh, he’s so soft and cuddly. Hi Ritchie, I’m Owen. I’ve heard a lot of good stuff about you from your brother.”
“Hi… You’re the guy CJ went to visit in Australia, right? Are you his boyfriend?”
“Ritchie, that’s enough. You know your father doesn’t like you talking about that kind of thing.” Lourdes followed her youngest son inside and stood in the doorway to the kitchen, glancing at the three guys in front of her.
“Dad’s silly. CJ’s gay, and he’s gonna have a boyfriend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend, Ritchie. Owen’s a good friend, and he’s going to be my neighbor in Washington. He’s moving there to go to law school. Hello, Lourdes. Owen, this is Lourdes Peterson. Lourdes, Owen Liston.”
“Welcome to America, Owen. And what’s this thing of calling me by my first name? Whatever happened to Mom?”
“Oh, I think we’re way past that, Lourdes. After my adoption last year, I have two dads but no mom.” CJ’s tone was gentle. There was no recrimination or anger in his comments. He was simply stating facts.
“Ritchie, why don’t you take the puppy outside? It probably needs to pee. Owen, would you mind going with him? I’d like to speak to my son alone.”
“Awww, Mom. Do I hafta?”
“Hang on one minute, Owen.” CJ gave his mother a hard stare before crouching to be at eye level with his brother. “Go on, Ritchie. This will be short and I promise Owen and I will come play with you and Wingnut until dinner’s ready.”
Olga seemed to blend into the background as she watched one grandson grumble and unhappily head towards the patio, while the other one stood smiling once again staring at his mother.
“You stay right there, Owen.” CJ’s commanding tone visibly jolted his mother. She looked back and forth between her son and the tall, blonde young man standing next to him. “Whatever you want to say to me, you can do so in front of him. Or are you too ashamed to let others see the real you?”
“I see you’re still the angry, young man I saw last year,” she said, sighing. Lourdes stepped next to her mother and kissed her. “I don’t think we should be discussing family matters in front of strangers,” she said, turning to look at her son again.
“Not much of a family, if you ask me,” CJ replied calmly, still smiling. “I think that relationship between you and me died when you let your husband throw me out of the house.”
“I did what I did because I thought it was best for you. And for Ritchie. You going away to a military school wasn’t the answer. I knew your father would take care of you.”
“Is that so? Is that how you justify your actions? Don’t worry, I’m over being angry, and I don’t hate you. You actually did me a favor.” CJ’s calm and composure seemed to make his mother nervous; she sat on one of the chairs and accepted a glass of water from her mother. “The past fifteen months have been the best ever. I have two fathers who love me without preconditions. I live in a great house in a great city. I go to a fantastic school and have made some very good friends. Not much more I could ask for. Plus the ability to travel’s a nice side benefit.”
“Is that all it takes? Your rich father throwing money at you to buy your affection?”
“You’re still as clueless as you ever were, Lourdes. I don’t care about the money. It means nothing. It’s nice but it’s not why I love Dad and Papa. They actually care about me. More than they do about themselves. Maybe you should give that a try sometime.”
“What did she have to say?” Brett asked as soon as César finished his conversation and placed the phone on the table again. They were shirtless, sitting on the patio, smoking cigars Sebastián had brought out after dinner. A tall, oscillating fan fought a losing battle against the heat and humidity of the sultry South Florida August evening.
CJ had texted to let them know he was on the way and César had immediately called Olga. Since the conversation had been mostly in Spanish, Brett felt a little lost. “She said it all went well. Ritchie’s spending the night at her place along with his new puppy. That woman’s proof there are good people around. We just need to look.”
“That sounds interesting.”
“You know something, Jarhead? We’ve spent so much time at the end of the line, wishing the world wouldn’t spin against us, we often fail to see what’s right in front of us. Olga’s so much more conservative than my parents. I’m amazed by her acceptance. My parents had no choice. I came out of the closet right after high school and they took it in stride. Then Randy announced he was gay, and my parents shrugged it off. Last year it was CJ and by then it was like, so what.”
“The times, they’re a changing, babe.”
“Yeah, well, not sure Dylan was talking about gay rights but I’ll take it. Lourdes was there to drop Ritchie off and she and CJ went at it.”
“Oh, shit! Was Olga upset?”
“At her daughter, maybe. She said CJ was serene, composed, and smiling. Lourdes was the one who insisted on talking about his move to Washington last year. He spoke mostly in a soft tone and told his mother to go fuck herself.”
“No, he didn’t. Fuck!”
César choked on the smoke he was about to blow out when Brett’s comment made him laugh. “Not it those words, asshole. I think our boy’s become too classy for that, even if he’s still only sixteen. Olga said he put his mother in her place very calmly. Oh, and you may want to know there will be no issues with Ritchie visiting us in the future. When Dickhead fussed after the last trip, Olga told him to shut up and to start acting like an officer and a father, instead of a hateful idiot. She threatened him with unspeakable pain if he dared interfere between her grandsons again. One more thing, she wants to see us. I told her we had some plans this week but promised we’d come over for lunch one day.”
“That works for me.”
“One more thing you should know. I came down hard on Owen today while we were walking from the hotel.”
“How come? What happened?”
“He started complaining about how uncomfortable he was with us upgrading his flights and about the amount of money you and I were spending. He said it made him feel funny like when CJ always wanted to pay for things when we were in Australia.”
“So what’d you tell him?”
“Told him to stop being a whiny bitch…”
“Asshole! I’m so glad your family likes me. I’ll talk to Owen at some point and try to calm him down if he’s still having problems with the money thing. And I hope Dickhead listens. If he fucks up again, sounds like he’ll be teetering on rocky ground.”
As usual, my thanks to my editors and beta readers.
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