Goodnight, My Angel - Georgeotown Book IV - 25. GMA XXV

Sufficiently inebriated and in a great mood, CJ and Owen left the bar before closing and stumbled down the still-buzzing streets of Key West. Continued carousing was tempting, but they did not want to spend the next day recovering. Inside the Cypress House compound, they shed what little they wore, and splashed in the pool until the sweat and cigarette smoke permeating skin and hair dissipated. A quick rinse under the outdoor shower to wash away the chlorine was the last thing CJ remembered. He was content when the following morning they woke up wrapped around each other, the soft, white sheet tangled between their legs. The ceiling fan whirred above them, and sunlight streamed through the open french doors leading to the second-floor veranda. The morning breeze carried the scent of tropical blooms.

“So this was President Truman’s vacation spot?” The Conch Train Tour trolley dropped them off in front of the Little White House after they had stopped at the Hemingway home and taken pictures in front of the US1 mile-marker zero sign. Owen babbled about his plan to reframe the one they had taken the prior year on the Canadian border by the northern terminus of the same road.

“Yep. I read that he visited like a dozen times while he was president. There’s something about Florida… We’ve never had a President born in the state, but Truman vacationed here. Kennedy did it in Palm Beach, and Nixon right outside Miami in Key Biscayne. Clinton stayed at the Biltmore Hotel in Coral Gables all the time, and the orange buffoon has Mar-a-Lago.”

“You gonna keep the tradition going when you get elected?”

“Shut it, Oz. Let me graduate college first. Then we can discuss me running for office. Or not.”

Aaron insisted on driving them to the airport on Monday. “Guys, I can’t thank you enough. Do you realize we’ve already booked rooms because of your posts? If nothing else, you’ve proven word of mouth is still the best kind of marketing. Whenever you want to come back, you have a room.”

“Thanks, big guy. Not sure when, but we’ll return.”

Their flight landed in Washington with enough time to catch the tail end of the party. CJ was happy to see his father’s Escalade parked near Thiago’s place; he knew the access code, so he transferred their luggage while Owen paid the cabbie.

“That’s convenient your dads are here. Saves an Uber ride back to our place.” Owen threw his backpack in the SUV and closed the gate. “Let’s get inside. It’s too cold for a hoodie over a t-shirt after a weekend in the warmth.”

“Then move it. I’ve got the present.” While strolling Duval Street the previous day, a plush animal in a store’s window had attracted their attention. It was now in the bag CJ carried along with a birthday card.

“Mate, can you believe Fabricio’s already one? It feels like it was just yesterday—”

“CJ! Ozzie!” Brett opening the door caught CJ and Owen by surprise.

“You playing doorman, Brettman?”

“Let us in already. It’s bloody freezing out here.”

Brett’s laughter made heads turn toward the new arrivals. “Listen to the Aussie. A weekend in Key West and he’s—”

“Uncle CJ! Uncle Ozzie!” The brown blur moving faster than his legs should have allowed tried to run toward them, stumbled, and crawled the rest of the way.

“Hey, Lollipop, happy birthday!” The boy wiggled until Owen picked him up. Harley had plastered the name on the kid; he claimed the tall, skinny toddler with the bushy afro resembled one. “We brought you a present.”

The wide-open eyes showed delight when CJ handed over the stuffed animal. ”It’s a Manatee from Florida.”

“Come on in, guys. Welcome back.” Thiago traded his son for the two beers he carried. “How was the trip?”

CJ recognized the strains of the world famous bossa nova playing in the background. He smiled when the image “The Girl From Ipanema” conjured was Tom Brady’s wife, Gisele, strutting down the catwalk during the Rio Olympic Games opening ceremonies, showing leg all the way up to her hip. There went his fag card. “Dude, it was awesome. We ate, we drank, and we relaxed. I’ll tell you about diving on a wreck later.”

If finding his fathers at the party was a pleasant surprise, seeing Ritchie talking to Harley was a shock. For the past year or so, Ritchie had spent less time with the older crowd and associated mostly with his school peers. “Hey, bro. What are you doing here?”

“What? Thiago invited the Squad. I didn’t crash the party.”

The defensive tone made CJ think something was wrong. “Wasn’t implying you did. What’s up, Harley? Why’s my brother sitting with you instead of your sister?” CJ looked around the room searching for his brother’s girlfriend. “Where’s Lucy?”

“Home as far as I know, bruh. And like I already told Ritchie, I’m not talking about her. Didn’t I say a long time ago I’d never get involved in my sisters’ love lives?” Harley raised his hands in surrender. “I’d rather talk about your trip. What bikes did you end up renting? And how was the new helmet?”

CJ had his suspicions about what was going on and decided to wait until later to talk to his brother. Instead, he recounted the riding portion of the trip for Harley. Later, once the single candle was blown out, and the cake was cut and shared, the party fizzled out. As soon as his father started the car when they left, CJ pounced. “Okay, bro? What’s going on? Did you and Lucy get into a fight?”

“Easy, son.” César’s admonition reminded CJ his fathers did not know of the girl’s abortion.

“Hey! I’m just curious. He and his girlfriend are usually attached at the hip.”

“Not no more.” Ritchie mumbled his response, making CJ stare at his brother in the last row of seats. “We broke up.”

Owen’s expression blended sadness and concern. “Oh, bloody hell. Sorry, mate. How are you doing?”

“Meh… okay, I guess. It was her idea. She said since we’re going to be so far away from each other it made sense. I guess she’s right. Everyone kept telling us long distance relationships are hard. Still, getting dumped’s no fun.”

CJ was certain the inopportune pregnancy played a role in the decision but figured that would be a subject to be discussed when the parents were not present.

“Sorry, bro. Hey, why don’t you come hang with us when the dads drop us off? Either Ozzie or I will give you a ride back home later, so you don’t have to walk in the cold.”

The following week, the fathers let CJ and Owen know Ritchie’s stoic attitude was an act. He came home each day and moped around, watching TV after he was done with schoolwork and chores. The couple was busy and unable to find time for the teen. To compensate, they invited him to spend Saturday with them.

“Wow! You guys done a lot since last time I was here.” Spray insulation covered the inside of exterior walls and a stack of drywall awaited installation. Ritchie’s previous visit had been after the lead and asbestos mitigation when bare walls and wood supports were all that remained.

“Your brothers wanted it done fast, so we’ve been working a few of hours of overtime each day. And Saturdays too as you can tell.” Gray had asked the couple to meet him so they could finalize a few design decisions.

“Break time!” Owen motioned for the laborers wrestling one of the new windows in place to join them. After picking up Ritchie, they had stopped at Dog Tag Bakery and carried a large coffee container, cups, and a box of baked goods with them.

“This looks good, Gray. What are we looking at as far as completion date?” CJ knew better than to rush the work, but he was itching to get out of the apartment and into the house.

“Mid-summer. As long as we don’t hit any snags. Whatever you did after that douche tried to blackmail us worked. Every time I call for an inspection we have someone here the same day or early the next morning.”

“Ozzie put the fear of god into those people.” CJ patted his husband on the back. “They’re all afraid of the big, bad Aussie.”

“Hey! I’m not the one they have to be scared of. You’re more likely to hurt them if they look at you wrong.”

Ritchie glanced at the staircase one of the workers had been sanding when they arrived. “Can we go upstairs?”

“Yeah… Actually, that’s where I need you guys to confirm some decisions.” Gray switched his attention to a dust-covered man. “Roberto, no mas.” He pointed at the portable sander the worker had been using. “Help them with the windows when you’re done with your break.”

CJ chuckled and slapped his friend’s back. “We’ll get you fluent in Spanish yet.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it, CJ. I work with these guys all the time, and they laugh at me whenever I say something.” They skipped the middle floors and ended in what would become the master suite. The appearance was similar to the first floor: all plaster was stripped, leaving a wooden skeleton. The wall separating the original front section from the first bedroom no longer existed, and a large walk-in closet next to the bathroom was framed.

Ritchie peered out the front window before turning around to take in the entire space. “This is going to be a huge room. Have you decided what furniture you want?”

“Not even close, bro. The cousins’ been sending us pics and links for possibilities, but we haven’t liked anything yet. We’ll probably go to the Washington Design Center in the next couple of weeks to check out showrooms. We’ll let you know in case you want to come with.” CJ and Owen had agreed to include Ritchie in as many of their activities as possible. They felt it might help the teen weather his relationship’s failure.

Owen clasped Gray’s shoulder with one hand and waved the other one in the direction of the bathroom. “Okay, Gray, what is it you wanted to discuss?”

“Come on, let’s walk back there.” He led the way toward what would become the master bathroom; not even plumbing pipes remained after it was gutted. “I taped off the space so you can get a better idea of where things will go.”

“What’s in there?” CJ pointed at a cardboard box in a corner of the room.

“Samples. We’ll get to those in a minute. Okay”—Gray faced the wall fronting the alley next to the house—“the design calls for two small spaces with pocket doors.” He pointed at the corner. “One’s for the toilet and the other one’s for the urinal. To the left will be the glass-enclosed shower and to the right, the soaking tub.”

“Yeah, about that.” Owen retrieved his phone and flipped through gallery pictures. When he came to the one he wanted, he passed the device to Gray. “That’s the one we settled on.”

“Nice…”

“Let me see.” Ritchie pushed himself between his brother-in-law and the general contractor. “Copper inside and black outside? Aren’t you doing a copper sink in the wine cellar? Is it going to be the same all over the house?”

“Nope. Those will be the only metal ones. Maybe the kitchen, but that’s up in the air. The rest are all porcelain or stone. And if you remember, the one in the basement is hammered copper, so it’s a different look.” CJ scratched his head while thinking. “Listen, I have an idea, but I’m not sure what you guys will think. The cousins seem to have forgotten we asked for a bidet. Can we flip the water closets and the tub? Toilet, urinal, and bidet on one side, and the shower stall in the other. That way, with the free-standing tub centered in the space, the living wall Ozzie wants would look real good.”

“I can see that…” Gray appeared lost in thought while rubbing his chin. “It balances the placement of the fixtures, but if we do an all-glass shower, the other side will look too heavy because of the drywall. What would you think about making the end wall of the water closets opaque glass and doing the same with the shower?”

“Could we get some 3D drawings to get a better idea?”

“Yeah, I’ll e-mail Chicago and get them to send us something. And speaking of Chicago, that box you asked about is something they sent. It’s full of samples. Wanna pick tiles for all the bathrooms? I already looked at the stuff inside. I think you’ll like it.”

“Let’s do it.” An enthusiastic CJ looked to Owen for approval and was rewarded with a nod and a smile. “Are we using the same for all three floors?”

“That’s up to you guys.” Gray sliced the tape he used to reseal the box with a utility knife. “Let’s start with the floor. They sent three options we’ll lay atop the mesh with the heating coils.”

“That one!” Owen pointed at a sheet of small tiles in varying shades of white with darker veins. “CJ?”

“I like it. That’s not ceramic, is it?”

“Nope. Marble. And figures you’d pick the most expensive one.” He handed the sample over and retrieved the other two. One was a herringbone pattern, also in white, and the other one a black and white mosaic. “The one you like is a one-inch hexagonal Calacatta Gold Italian Marble.”

“Yeah, I really like it. It has an old-school vibe. What about it, Oz? Do the same on the other two floors?”

“That’s fine. It’ll tie everything together instead of having a crazy look with different stuff everywhere.”

“Then I suggest a similar marble for the shower.” Gray handed them a small, square, stone piece. “This isn’t the shape or size we would use. The actual ones would be one-foot by two. We can mount them in whatever direction you choose. They didn’t send a sample, but your cousins suggested using a contrasting color stone for the inside of the niches we’re putting in to hold shampoo and shit like that. Randy says it should be purple marble.”

“Fuck that shit! No way! Nothing too trendy. Oz, what do you think of black, so it’ll match the tub’s exterior?”

“Works for me, mate. Definitely not purple.”

By the time they left, tile had been chosen for all the bathrooms and the kitchen backsplash. They postponed the decision on kitchen countertops until they made a visit to a stone supplier.

“I looked at the timetable and Gray’s right. You should be moving in around Independence Day.” Brett reached for the bottle of Orange County, Virginia, 2015 Viognier; they were waiting for Ritchie to return from the Chinese restaurant with Sunday dinner.

“Ozzie and I were talking about that, dads.” CJ accepted the bottle, filled his glass, and passed it to his husband. “We wanted to move Aba into the apartment next to ours, but we’re reconsidering it.”

“What? After all the shit you gave us to convert it after we moved our offices out?”

César rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Jarhead. We were moving to the second floor no matter what. Don’t give them crap. What’s on your mind, CJ?”

“If Aba’s moving up to DC at the beginning of April, it means she’d be there for something like three months only. Wouldn’t you guys like to rent the place out to some GU student and have them sign a year’s lease?”

“That would be smart. What do you propose to do with your grandmother instead? Move her into the second room in your apartment?”

“Not a chance. That would be a pain for her and for us.” Owen tasted the wine before passing judgment. “This is good, Captain. You did a good job picking this one out.”

“Since it’s only for a short time, we thought she could move into our old room in the basement.” Hearing no objections from his fathers, CJ felt encouraged. “It would also mean Ritchie gets to have her around until he moves to Colorado.”

“Either CJ or I could drop off the baby in the morning and pick her up at night.”

Brett was definitely surprised. “HER?! You’re having a girl? That’s fucking awesome!”

“Dammit, Oz.”

“Ooops…” Owen did not appear overly bothered. “Honest slip. But I see neither Brett nor César are upset about it.”

“Why the hell would we be upset? As long as the kid’s healthy…”

“Brett has it right, guys. As long as our grandchild’s healthy, that’s all we care about. So what’s her name gonna be?”

“Shut the fuck up, Ozzie. Let’s at least keep that under wraps until she’s born.”

“Well, at least I know what to buy you guys as a present. I’m gonna have to figure out what brand of shotgun is best for deterring teenaged suitors.” Brett’s humor did not amuse Owen.

“Suitors? Quarter word, Captain. And for the record, no shotguns. You know what I think of guns. Bad enough Lola’s part of the household.”

The sound of someone kicking the kitchen door meant Ritchie was back, and his hands were full of food containers. CJ almost stumbled when his brother pushed past him. “What took you so fucking long to answer, bro? It’s freezing out here.” Ritchie shivered and his teeth clattered when he spoke.

CJ tried not to laugh. “Ummm, Ritchie? Maybe you shouldn’t run out of the house in sweats and a tee in the middle of winter?”

“Yeah, well, if you and Ozzie hadn’t blocked the way, I would have parked in the garage and the cold wouldn’t have been an issue. But nooo, you had to—”

“Shut the fuck up and get the food in here, Ritchie. I’m starving.” Brett had a way of getting to the core of any issue.

“Fuck you too, Captain. What am I? Like the errand boy around here?”

“Yes!” The response came from all four men.

“Hey, errand boy, have you made plans for spring break?” CJ held a finger to his lips not wanting the fathers to reveal what they had already discussed.

“Fuck you too, CJ. And no, I haven’t made any plans. It’s not like the dads are gonna let me fly off somewhere by myself.”

“Oh, that’s such crap.” César tried to sound offended and failed. “Like you haven’t flown to Miami by yourself before.”

“That doesn’t count.”

CJ decided to tease his brother some more. “Does that mean you don’t want to go to Miami then? Ozzie and I thought you could go down, stay with the abuelos, borrow their car, and visit any old friends you wanted to.”

“Really?” Ritchie looked excited and apprehensive. “What’s the catch?”

“You suspicious, little shit!” Brett’s laughter made his youngest son cock an eyebrow.

“Fine, there’s a catch. Ozzie and I discussed it with the dads, and we think we can trust you. We’d like you to help coordinate Aba’s move to Washington.”

---911 Bad AF Call Me---

“I wonder what crawled up his ass.” CJ was reviewing class notes when Chipper’s cryptic text message came through.

Owen dropped his ass on the couch. “Call him. Let’s find out.”

Chipper must have been waiting because he answered on the first ring. “Damn, that was fast. Thanks for calling me. I need help.”

“What’s wrong, mate?” Owen sat next to CJ so they could both be heard. “What do you need help with?”

“Shit, this is a pain. I need to borrow the apartment in New York.”

“Why are you asking, Chipper?” CJ was confused, his friend had a key to the place and knew he could use it any time he wanted. “You know you don’t have to.”

“Not for me, bro. For my sister. I want her in a safe place until I can get to New York.”

“What’s wrong with Cristina?” CJ’s alarmed tone reflected his concern.

“Damien raped her last night.”