The Scandal - 5. Chapter 5: Blast From The Past

(1382 days before)

Even before he got the job, Desmond always made it a habit to be an early riser, usually for his morning jogs or to hit the weights before the gyms got too crowded. Still, having to wake up at 6:00 AM sharp every Monday through Friday proved to be a much more difficult and inconvenient task than he’d anticipated.

The muted yet noticeable sawing sound of a man snoring could be easily heard throughout the house as Desmond got ready for the day. After showering and getting dressed, Desmond surreptitiously tiptoed to the kitchen to brew himself his usual morning java, moving swiftly so as not to disturb his roommate, still trying to savor the few precious moments of sleep he had left. However, as Desmond swirled his favorite hazelnut creamer in his coffee, “No One Like You” by The Scorpions suddenly blared at full blast in Bryan’s room.

Like it or not, Bryan now had no choice: The local rock radio was telling him that he needed to get his ass in gear.

The lumbering brick wall of a man emerged from his room with his trademark heavy footfalls as Desmond took a sip from his coffee and started pouring himself a bowl of cereal. Desmond did a quick double-take to find Bryan in the middle of the open foyer, doing his usual morning stretch routine and wearing nothing but his usual grey bikini briefs, causing him to stifle a quick burst of laughter and recoil in secondhand embarrassment.

After putting the milk back into the fridge, Desmond carried his cereal and coffee to the dinner table and began to scan the morning paper. Bryan had yet to notice Desmond was up and about, and Desmond found himself unable to ignore the former strongman’s imposing presence, as awkward and a smidge uncomfortable as it currently was.

Despite his portly stature, Bryan was quite limber, retaining the ability to touch his toes without bending his knees, the act of which gave Desmond a show he was rather unprepared to see. “Ugh, DUDE! Personal space!” Desmond thought as he averted his eyes. “Did I really need to see that much fat, hairy man-ass this early in the morning?!”

Thankfully, the unintentional striptease didn’t last long as Bryan immediately got his clothes off the bed and made his way into the shower without acknowledging or even recognizing Desmond’s very existence at that moment. “Bryan’s a good guy and all,” Desmond thought to himself as he held his head in bewilderment. “But I SO wish he’d put on a pair of pants when he gets up or wear boxers or something,…says the guy who got kicked out of a hotel pool for wearing a banana hammock.”

Despite being the last to wake up in the morning, Bryan ended up being the first to leave for work, a rather common occurrence Desmond took notice of. As Bryan drove off in his grey ’99 Camry, the intrusive image of him bending over in his underwear orbited around Desmond’s mind like a pissed-off yellow jacket on a humid summer day. “What I’d give to live with a hot girl instead of another guy…” Desmond grumbled to himself before realizing what was truly important. “Still, I have a roof over my head and food in my stomach, I don’t want to risk fucking that up...I guess I’m just gonna have to deal with looking at a guy in his underpants every so often. Not the worst thing I have to endure, but still…could do without it.”

***

It was the day that everybody, teachers and students alike looked forward to the most out of any of the other days of the week: Friday. With the work week said and done, Desmond decided to make this weekend a special occasion by preparing the traditional Friday night dinner in the Mancino household, homemade pizza. A delicious meal that his new roommate would undoubtedly appreciate.

Conveniently, Bryan’s home oven was already equipped with a pizza stone on the bottom, and he was also in ownership of a small wooden pizza peel. The pristine condition of both implements showed that they had never been used until today. “Makes you wonder how much cooking he really did before I moved in.” Desmond speculated to himself. As the stone heated up in the scorching hot oven, Desmond wasted no time preparing the pizzas just like he was taught throughout his twenty-four years of life. Tossing the dough effortlessly in the air to stretch it out, using freshly grated low-moisture cheese as opposed to the bagged stuff, and determining the perfect marinara to mozzarella ratio.

He purchased multiple different toppings when shopping, but rather than be presumptuous, he decided to ask his roommate which one he preferred.

“Bryan?” Desmond asked out loud, only to be met with radio silence.

“Hey, Bryan? I need to ask you something!” Again, no answer. Desmond glanced out the bay window in the living room to find Bryan’s Toyota nestled comfortably next to Desmond’s Bronco in the driveway. Clearly, he was still home. The bathroom door was open and the light was off, ruling out Bryan’s presence in there. And of course, there was no reason for Bryan to be in Desmond’s living quarters. The door to Bryan’s bedroom was open and sure enough, he was in there picking out something more comfortable to wear after a long day’s work.

Just as Desmond began to approach the open hatch to ask the pertinent question, Bryan had already undone the zipper on his pants and proceeded to disrobe, revealing that Damien’s suspicions were true and his choice in underwear flaunted his bare backside for all to see.

“Hey, Bry-Oh, Marone a mi…” Desmond found himself once again recoiling at the sight of seeing more of Bryan than he was expecting. Bryan, realizing he was not alone in his room, jumped up in surprise and horror.

“OH FUCK!! I’m so sorry, Desmond! I didn’t mean to moon you like that…I was so caught up in grading tests last night that I completely forgot to put my underwear in the dryer. I had no choice but to wear my old jock…”

“It’s alright. I’ll….give you a minute?” Desmond asked nervously.

“What did you want to ask me? I’m just gonna throw on some sweats.”

“Well…I uhhhh…I’m making pizza for dinner. I just wanted to know what kind of toppings you’d like.”

“Well, what do you got?” Bryan asked as he put on a pair of grey sweatpants, covering himself up and making the conversation less awkward.

“I picked up some chorizo sausage, some black olives, and some hot peppers when I was at the store today.”

“Ah, I usually like pepperoni on mine…I’ll go with the chorizo then.”

***

Shortly thereafter, both Bryan and Desmond sat down at the dinner table and had a feast. Both men gorged themselves on four decently big slices of Desmond’s not exactly New York style, but still delicious pizza.

“Man, I’m so full I can’t even think about eating another bite!” Bryan said as he patted his decently sized powerlifter belly, a clear affirmation of Desmond’s culinary talent. “Where did you learn how to make pizza so fuckin’ good?”

“My Uncle Jonathan,” Desmond replied. “He owned a pizzeria in Brooklyn and he taught me everything I know about making pizzas.”

“Well, he certainly taught you well because that was absolutely delicious!”

“He taught me a lot of things growing up…” Desmond then took the time to reminisce about his precious childhood memories growing up in New York.

“I loved my Uncle Jonathan more than anything growing up and I LOVED visiting the pizzeria to have lunch. He really was the coolest uncle a kid could ask for…Physically, he was a pretty imposing man; he was a tough six-foot-four Sicilian who was basically the epitome of an old-school circus strongman from the 1920s, right down to his signature handlebar mustache. He definitely wasn’t someone you’d want to mess with, but as much as he looked like a brawler, he really was an absolute sweetheart. He loved his family with all of his heart and treated me and my kid sister Josephina as if we were his very own.”

Desmond paused and sighed to himself as the flood of memories came pouring down like a sudden monsoon.

“It sounds like you and him were pretty tight-knit,” Bryan interjected.

“That’s putting it pretty lightly. He was always the person who’d pick me up, dust me off, and give me a pat on the shoulder whenever I was going through something. He taught me some very valuable skills and life lessons that I still follow to this day and he was probably one of the most capable people I have ever met in my life. He was the kind of man who dabbled in everything from baseball to rugby to weightlifting, fishing, hunting, skiing, mountain climbing, horseback riding…he knew how to play the guitar and the piano…He truly was a renaissance man, always willing to accept a challenge; NOTHING was impossible in Uncle Jonny’s eyes.”

“Fuck, dude…he sounds like a real man’s man. No wonder you looked up to him so much.” Bryan said in sheer awe. “What’s he up to these days?”

At that solitary moment, Desmond froze, and the color started to drain from his face. Sadness filled his eyes with a few notes of anger and guilt. He almost looked as if he would cry, but he held it together.

“Well….uhh…”Desmond cleared his throat. “He, um…passed away about four years ago.”

A forlorn pall filled the room when Desmond revealed that devastating fragment of information. Bryan’s thoughts retraced back to the day his tenant moved in, how he nearly broke down in tears when he put a certain photo on the bookshelf. It all came painfully clear that the mustachioed man was not his father but rather his beloved deceased uncle.

“Oh my God…I’m so sorry for your loss, Desmond. I can’t imagine how painful it must have been for you to lose someone so close. You must have been heartbroken,” Bryan lamented.

“I don’t think the word ‘heartbroken’ even begins to describe how I felt. It’s…not something I like to dwell on too much, but I’ll tell you the story...”

***

Cancer.

It was cancer that took my favorite uncle from me.

The guy spent hours of the day at the gym getting as strong as possible. Motherfucker could bench press a goddamn baby elephant, but yet, he just couldn’t put down those goddamn cigars and cigarettes…

Back in December of ’03, I was coming home from the first semester of my sophomore year of college, hoping to enjoy a nice holiday season with my family, when Uncle Jonny caught a chest cold that wouldn’t go away and got worse over time instead of better. He went to his doctor who then referred him to a CAT scan specialist.

The verdict? Stage four lung cancer that spread to his spinal cord and brain.

That Christmas was definitely an emotional one, but Uncle Jonny remained in such high spirits despite his diagnosis. It was almost as if there was nothing wrong with him at all. Throughout the three weeks that I was home, he went out of his way to reassure me that everything was going to be alright and that he was going to beat the shit out of this disease. And I believed him…

When I went back to school, I remained blissfully unaware of his true condition. My parents, my sister, and even Uncle Jonny himself would keep reassuring me that everything was fine. And I believed them...

But of course, they knew the real truth...They knew that the cancer spread too much for surgery, they knew it wasn’t responding to chemo, they knew it was only a matter of time and they kept me in the dark to spare me the heartbreak. It wasn’t until Uncle Jonny was literally on fucking death's door that they finally told me the truth.

April 23^rd, 2004 will forever be a day that will live in infamy for me. It started like any other Friday. Philosophy class was in the morning, followed by a few hours of free time to hang out with my buddies in the common hall before hitting the weight room with my roommate and best friend Tyler. That evening was going to be massive for Tyler and me, as we’d been invited to this huge all-night frat party, which was supposed to have some of the hottest babes on campus in attendance. In some sick, twisted form of irony, right as we were getting ready for the party, Tyler mentioned my uncle’s illness.

“Yo dawg, is it true what Kate said, that your favorite uncle has cancer? Sorry to hear that, man.”

And, of course, because I had fuck-all idea what was truly going on, I just mounted my high horse and boasted about how strong and badass he was.

“Bro, Let me tell you somethin' about my Uncle Jonathan. He is one tough muthafucka. He may have cancer, but cancer doesn’t have him. He still goes to the gym daily and even lifts weights between his chemo treatments! Trust me on this, bro. If anyone can kick this cancer's ass, it's my Uncle Jonny. The man’s a fuckin’ tank.”

Then…right as we were about to leave for what was going to be a long night of drinking and debauchery…That’s when I got the call.

“Yo, Dez! They’re already at the frat house! We gotta go!

“Hold up Ty, I gotta take this call. It’s from my sister. Heeeeyyy, JosAY!”

“Desmond….You need to come back to New York as soon as possible. Uncle Jonny is….he’s not doing well.”

“WHAT?! No….no he was doing fine the last time I called him! What happened?!”

“The cancer spread all over…the treatments aren’t working… there’s really no time to explain. He’s dying, Desmond, and he really doesn’t have much longer. Just please, catch the first flight you can.”

“Devastated”…didn’t even come close to describing what I was feeling at that moment. I was so overwhelmed with emotion that I immediately just went on autopilot. Tyler was in earshot, so he knew and understood the sudden change of plans. I rushed over to LAX as quickly as I could and booked a last-minute flight back to Kennedy that evening; not that easy with airport security still being so tight after 9/11 and of course, my fucking flight ended up delayed….I was supposed to arrive back in New York by the early morning but didn’t land until around two in the afternoon. When I finally made it to the hospital he was staying at, I just barged right into Uncle Jonny’s ICU room where….I saw something that will permanently be engraved in my memory for the rest of my life…..The heart monitor was making one long beep, and a frail old man was lying on the bed, eyes closed and not breathing. I would have thought I was in the wrong room if it wasn’t for the fact that Josie was there, crying her eyes out. She wiped her eyes and held back her tears long enough to tell me what happened…I still remember her words crystal-clear to this day.

“Desmond, he passed away about fifteen minutes ago. His last words….were him calling out for you.”

Then she started to cry again…and I just fucking lost it. I’m not a big crier, but after it finally hit home that Uncle Jonny was fucking dead and I was too late to say goodbye….Jesus, how could I NOT cry?! The man taught me so much in life: how to make pizza, how to fish, how to play rugby, how to play the guitar, how to ride a horse…Josie did her best to console me as I gasped for air and bawled my face out, but…it just wasn’t enough.

“Dezzy, maybe it was for the best you weren’t here when he died. He was in excruciating pain…He just kept moaning and crying until he slipped into a coma…”

The cancer eating away at him aged him horribly. He used to have muscles on top of muscles, but he was literally skin and bones when he died. His slick black hair and handlebar ‘stache that made him so recognizable were all gone from the chemo….He wasn’t that old when he died, only fifty-three, but he looked like he was over a hundred. Despite that, I was just… completely devastated that I never had the chance to bid my final goodbye and tell him how much I loved him.

Burying Uncle Jonny was probably the hardest part...At one point during the funeral, Josie, my mother, my Aunt Maria, my dad, and Jonny’s sister were so beside themselves that they were screaming like howler monkeys which freaked the shit out of me. I don’t think I’d ever witnessed such raw grief like that in my life, and I came close to joining them. Me, my dad, and four of my cousins were the pallbearers, and all I could remember from when I carried that casket on my shoulders was just repeating to myself over and over again “I’m so sorry, Uncle Jonny. I’m so fucking sorry. I should have been there and I wasn’t there” like it was a mantra or something.

I know that it sounds excessive and dramatic for the loss of an uncle, but...In a way, I loved my Uncle Jonathan more than my own mother and father. Don’t get me wrong, I love my folks to the moon and back, but Jonny and I just had this special, strong bond…I was like a son to him, and he was like a second father to me, and I feel like when he died, he took a part of me with him.

***

“That’s a pretty sad story, Desmond.” Bryan finally mustered the courage to speak up after Desmond’s intense and emotional recollection. “I wish I could empathize more with your pain…But…I guess I should count my lucky stars that my folks are still alive and well.”

“Cherish your memories with them, Bryan, " Desmond solemnly stated. "You never know what could happen.”

“We’ve only known each other for a few weeks, and I don’t know why, but I feel like we've become more comfortable about opening up to each other now,” Bryan observed.

“Well, I figured it was only fair to show you some of me. After all, I did get to see a lot of you today.” Desmond joked, attempting to lighten up the dour mood.

“What do you mean?”
“Heh, you think I wouldn’t notice your little yoga routine in your undies this morning? Plus, leaving the door wide open while you were changing?"

Bryan turned beet red in sheer embarrassment after realizing his early morning faux pas. “OH…damn it...you were already up?”

“Yup. You gave me quite a show when I was trying to eat my Wheaties.”

“Shit…I’m sorry about the striptease. I’m still not entirely used to the fact that I don’t live alone anymore.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it, dude. We’re both guys; our bodies are nothing to be ashamed of!”

Desmond’s blasé response shocked Bryan to his absolute core. Even during his bodybuilding and strongman days, he had never encountered another assumedly heterosexual man with such a nonchalant attitude about another man’s body. Bryan found himself faced with the exhilarating possibility that he had Desmond pegged entirely wrong. Despite it being a long shot, morbid curiosity took over and Bryan proceeded to ask his roommate an extraordinarily personal question.

“Don’t take offense to this, Desmond, but….uhh….are you…gay?”

“WHAT?!” Desmond exclaimed in incredulity after letting out a short burst of laughter. “Where did you get THAT idea? Didn’t I tell you that I used to have a girlfriend not too long ago?”

Dejected, Bryan attempted to salvage the discussion from the quagmire of inelegance. “I don’t know, it just seems like everyone is gay these days…Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with being gay...I’m just saying that today probably would have been more awkward for me if you were.”

“Well, I’m not. So….don’t worry about it.” Desmond’s choppy and uncomfortable response caused Bryan to become flushed with embarrassment. Like a bag of trash, the subject was immediately dropped and while Desmond continued to munch on the leftover pizza crust on his plate, Bryan began kicking himself for his gracelessness and social oafishness.

“Damn it, Bryan! Was that fishing expedition really fucking necessary!?” Bryan screamed at himself internally. “DO YOU WANT HIM TO FIND OUT, FOR CHRISSAKES?! No? Then shut the fuck up!”