Belonging (15 page)

“What does that mean exactly, a good
opportunity for someone like you?” Chance asked.

“Well, look at me. I’m almost thirty,
barely employed, and living with my grandmother. I’m kind of a
total failure in all aspects of my life. Now here’s this guy who
thinks I’m something special and who’s willing to take care of me.
At my age, how many more opportunities like this am I going to
have?”

“But why do you need someone to take
care of you?” Chance asked me.

“That’s totally Gianni,” Yosh chimed
in. “He’s had that idea forever. It’s what he thinks he
wants.”

“It’s what I
know
I want. More than
that. It’s what I need,” I told them.

“
But what if it isn’t?”
When I opened my mouth to say something, Yosh said, “Just hear me
out. You’ve done this half a dozen times before, Gianni. You found
yourself someone who you thought was going to be the answer to your
problems, but it never quite worked out the way you hoped. You
always ended up hurt, or disappointed, or both. They treated you
like a prized possession until something newer and shinier came
along. None of them ever really loved you, Gi. I’m sorry if that
sounds harsh, but it’s the truth. And that’s what you need and what
you deserve: someone who’ll love you for who you are, not just
covet you because you’re beautiful.”

“But maybe Jason will learn to love me
in time,” I said, looking at the drink in my hand. “I think he
really likes me, and that’s a start.”

“So, for that you’re willing to leave
your whole life behind.”

“Not just for that. I’m spinning my
wheels here in San Francisco, my life is going absolutely nowhere.
Maybe this fresh start is what I need.”

“It sounds like you’ve already made up
your mind to go,” Chance said.

“I haven’t,” I said. “But I’m going to
give this some serious consideration.”

“When does he want you to go?” Yosh
asked.

“He bought me a plane ticket for
Thursday, because that’s when he’ll be returning to New
York.”

“Thursday! He expects you to move
across the country in just four days?” Chance exclaimed.

“Yeah. And here’s the thing: I could
do that so easily! All I really have to do is get someone, Vincent
maybe, to take over for me with Zan and my twice-a-week delivery
job. That’s it. I don’t have to give two weeks’ notice in an
office, or a month’s notice on a rental, or pack a houseful of
furniture. I just have to put my clothes in a suitcase. My only
major possession is my car, and Nana’s let me store it in her
garage before so that’s easily dealt with.” I sat back and looked
at my friends. “All of that should tell you something about my
life, and why moving isn’t that big a deal to me.”

Yosh said, “I’m going to miss you if
you move.”

“I’d miss you too, both of you. But
I’d come and visit all the time, you’d barely know I was gone.
You’d just need a new workout partner Yoshi, but that’s it. Oh, and
even my gym membership is month-to-month. Another example of how
easy it’d be to pull up roots.” I turned to Chance and said, “I
told you I’d help with your photography assignment and I want to
make good on that. Whether or not I decide to go, I can meet you
every day between now and Thursday to make sure you get the
pictures you need.”

“Thanks. I’d like it if we did one
more session,” Chance said, “though really, I’ve already taken
three times as many shots as I probably need to.”

“So, are you going to announce this to
your family over dinner tonight?” Yosh asked.

“No, and please don’t bring it up. I
need to think this through for a couple days. I probably sound like
I’m raring to go, but this is a big decision and I’m not taking it
lightly.”

“I’m glad to hear you’re giving it
some thought,” Chance said. “Moving in with someone you barely know
is a huge deal.”

“Actually, we wouldn’t be living
together,” I told him. “He’s not out, so we’d need to be discrete.
He mentioned letting me use one of his investment properties near
his apartment.”

“Oh.”

“And really, that’s a good thing.
There wouldn’t be the pressure of living together and I’d be able
to do things on my own,” I added.

“Doesn’t any of that bother you,
though?” Yosh asked. “It doesn’t sound like he’s asking you to be
his boyfriend, he’s just moving his booty call to the east
coast.”

“I know. I can accept that that’s all
I am.” I pushed back from the kitchen table to make myself another
drink, and Yosh jumped up and grabbed me in a hug. “Shit,” I said,
“did I trip the pathetic puppy switch?”

“I love you, Gianni,” Yosh said, “and
I really hope you do give this a lot of thought.”

“I will, I swear,” I told him. “Now
let’s all focus on what’s important here: getting drunk and
preparing ourselves. Nana’s threatening to turn tonight’s dinner
into an episode of her cooking show. Believe me when I say, none of
us should be sober for that.”

*****

Coincidentally, the theme of Sunday
dinner and the episode-in-the-making of my grandmother’s cable TV
show was ‘cooking with alcohol’. Nana, Jessie and Tom Selleck the
puppy arrived home with a big box from the liquor store. While Nana
went off to change and the dog terrorized the backyard, Jessie
unpacked a dozen bottles of booze onto the kitchen counter and
regaled us with tales of puppy training. Marie had apparently
almost met her match in Gizmo, but she felt there was hope for the
creature. My brother hired her to come to the house five days a
week until the little beast was at least sort of
civilized.

Vincent, Trevor and Josh arrived a
couple minutes later. Trevor usually acted as the cameraman and
Vincent helped with sound and lighting. Nana had used a
professional crew for the first few episodes of her show, but then
she’d fired them. They hadn’t taken to being bossed around as well
as her family did.

Christian and Shea arrived at the same
time as my brother Dante and his husband Charlie, soon followed by
a tired-looking Nico. I’d set up shop on the kitchen table, mixing
up Lynchburg lemonades by the pitcher, and immediately supplied our
new arrivals with some big cocktails. “You planning to get everyone
drunk tonight?” Dante asked me with a grin.

“Oh hell yeah,” I told him, “and so’s
Nana, by the sound of things.”

“Bring it on,” Nico said, chugging
half his drink.

I yelled across the kitchen, “Jessie,
can you be the designated driver and ferry everyone home if they
get wasted?”

“Of course! We can load up the limo
and make deliveries of your drunk-ass family all over the city,” he
yelled back.

“Thanks, Jess,” I called. “By the way,
is your real name Jahaziel?”

“No! Where’d you even get
that?”

“I googled awkward Biblical names
beginning with J.”

“Who says it starts with
J?”

“Call it a hunch. Japheth?”

“Quit guessing! I won’t tell you even
if you’re right!”

“Jemuel?”

Jessie burst out laughing. “Stop! I’m
going to be so mad if you actually guess it!” I flashed him a smile
and let it drop.

My grandmother bustled into the room
just then dressed in a crisp turquoise suit and an extremely tall
chef’s hat. “We better get this show on the road,” she said. “We
got hungry people to feed! Roll the camera, Trevor, and make sure
we got the mic on, Vinnie. Like usual we’re just gonna film
everything and sort it out in editing.”

Jessie, whose job description had
expanded at some point to include being Nana’s on-air assistant,
had put a bunch of pots and pans on the big six-burner stove before
turning his attention to opening the bottles of wine and spirits.
He was a ham in front of the camera, and as soon as Trevor turned
it on, he struck a pose and flashed a huge smile. “We’re rolling,
Nana,” he said.

“What?” Nana looked around, and
eventually realized the camera was running. “Oh good, okay. We got
lots to get through today and not much time to do it. Why is this
show only half an hour? What’re you going to cook in that time?
We’re not making fast food here. Am I right, Jessie?”

“Absolutely.”

“I got my family here for
Sunday dinner and I want to make them a nice
pasta e fagioli
to start. That’s a
soup with beans and pasta, only you don’t need me to tell you it’s
got pasta in it because it’s right there in the name. We got a
theme for tonight’s meal. I’m gonna kick it up with some booze.
Normally, you might put some red wine in this soup. Let’s see what
we got here.” She grabbed the wine bottle closest to her and took a
big swig.

“That one’s white wine, Nana,” Jessie
pointed out.

“So it is. It’s real nice, though.”
She took another drink from the bottle before setting it down and
picking up another. “Is this one red? Never mind, I’ll find out for
myself.” She drank from that one too. Then she said, “I premade a
few things to save time. You gotta do that on these cooking shows,
otherwise you’re not gonna have anything to show your audience.
Grab the sausages and meatballs from the fridge,
Jessie.”

“On it.” He retrieved a couple big
trays and put them on the counter.

“Show your balls to the camera,
Jessie,” she said. “I want everyone to see how big and meaty they
are.” Jessie fought back a laugh and tilted the tray of meatballs
toward the camera. “Some people like small balls, but not me,” Nana
said. “I say the bigger the better. You want balls you can really
sink your teeth into.”

Christian, who was right beside me,
tried to cover a laugh with the old cough-in-your-hand trick while
Chance chuckled and whispered, “Sounds painful.”

“I precooked these and the sausages,”
Nana was saying. “Now I gotta get the soup going, but first I need
to pick out the wine that’s gonna be going in there.”

She drank from a couple more bottles
as Jessie said, “Do you want to show your audience the soup you
made earlier, so they get an idea what it’s going to look
like?”

“Sure, why not? Serve some up,
Jessie.” While he got a plastic container from the refrigerator and
ladled soup into a shallow, decorative bowl, she looked into the
camera and said, “You don’t just have to limit yourself to wine in
your cooking. That’s why we went and got all this other stuff at
the liquor store. Some whiskey might make for a real interesting
soup base, or even some tequila. It’ll give it that, you know,
international flair. Let’s see what this is over here.” She picked
up a small bottle and chugged some of it before saying, “What the
hell was that?”

“Jagermeister,” Jessie told
her.

“I don’t know about that one. Maybe
some of this.” She picked up a bottle of Schnapps and took a long
drink before saying, “Now that one I like. Forget the soup, we
should just drink this stuff.” She took another swig.

The puppy began whimpering at the back
door and Nana said, “Somebody let Tom Selleck in, would you? It’s
not very professional to have him whining in the background while
we’re doing a high-class cooking program.” She took another drink
of Schnapps while Josh went to do as she asked.

As soon as the door was open a crack,
the dog pushed his way in and ran right for the food. He jumped up
on his hind legs and caught the sausage tray with his huge paws.
The sausages went flying and Jessie dove in to try to help, but
ended up whacking a corner of the other tray and catapulting the
meatballs. “Shit, there go my balls,” Nana yelled as meat rained
down all over the kitchen. Jessie saved one of the sausages while
Vincent jumped in and struggled to get hold of the big animal. The
dog meanwhile was in a meat-induced frenzy, squirming and straining
as he tried to vacuum up everything within reach.

“This is my favorite TV show,” Shea
said. I toasted him with my glass before we both took a
drink.

“I’m going to save the Jager,” Yosh
announced, then quickly dashed into the fray, flashed a thumbs up
at the camera, and grabbed the bottle.

“It’s good that you have your
priorities straight,” I told him when he rejoined our group at the
kitchen table.

Once Vincent leashed the dog and
dragged him out of the shot, Nana regained her composure and looked
into the camera. Trevor had been calmly filming throughout all of
that. “That shit wasn’t supposed to happen,” she said. “But look,
we still got a nice soup here.” Trevor focused on the dish as Nana
added the long, brown sausage that Jessie had saved. It curved up
and out of the shallow bowl.

“He got most of ‘em, but there’s a
couple meatballs here that the dog missed,” Nana said as she
plucked them off the counter. She dropped them into the soup bowl
on either side of the sausage. Jessie chuckled as he pulled out his
phone and snapped a picture of the suddenly NC-17 dish.

“Maybe that should be a wrap for now,
Nana,” Dante suggested.

“Yeah, you’re right,” she said as
Trevor shut off the camera and cut the stage lights that were
mounted to the ceiling. “We gotta regroup and figure out dinner
after all of that. The only one we don’t need to worry about
feeding is Tom Selleck.”