AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“That’s because you’ve only known me for the past year. I used to be a much different person.” Before losing Javier. He didn’t say it, but I knew that was what he meant.
“What were you like?”
“I guess I was just…lighter. I didn’t take things so seriously, and life seemed uncomplicated.”
I said, “So, that’s how you were able to tolerate the party-boy roommate in West Hollywood.”
“Mostly. He’d bring home a different guy literally every night, and that got on my nerves. In retrospect though, I think I was just jealous that he was so free and open with his sexuality.”
“And you weren’t?”
He shook his head. “Not even a little. It took a crush on my best friend Ren to finally admit to myself I was bisexual. Even then, I didn’t act on it until much later, when I met Javier.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“In part, it was a question of self-acceptance. I thought I knew who I was, and changing that definition wasn’t easy. But there was also the fear of losing the love of my big Catholic family.”
I asked, “What happened when you finally came out?”
“My aunts and uncles and both of my brothers stopped speaking to me, but several of my cousins were okay with it. My mother was somewhere in the middle.”
“You never talk about her.”
“It’s a sore subject,” he said. “We used to be close, but our relationship changed after I came out. She didn’t disown me, but she also couldn’t quite accept the idea of me dating men, so things have been awkward between us ever since.”
“Did she ever meet Javier?”
He shook his head. “I asked her repeatedly to come visit us in Mexico City. I even offered to buy her a plane ticket and put her up in a nice hotel if she didn’t want to stay with us, but she always made excuses. I also asked Javier to come with me to Florida so we could visit her, but he totally refused. He was so stubborn. He said he wasn’t going to travel all that way to meet someone who didn’t wholeheartedly accept him.”
“When was the last time you saw her?”
“It’s been three years, and I feel guilty about that. At first, it was because Javier was sick and I had to take care of him. Then when he died, I just couldn’t face seeing her. It was already too much to process without adding her disapproval to the mix. We do talk on the phone once a month or so, but it’s very superficial.”
“What part of Florida is she in?”
“Tallahassee. She remarried six months after my dad died and left L.A. with her new husband. He owns a regional chain of restaurants on the panhandle.”
“You know, Tallahassee’s only a day’s drive from northern Louisiana. When I go to visit my parents next month, you should come along, and we can do a side trip to see your mom.”
“Would you really want me to tag along when you visit your parents?”
“I was going to invite you anyway,” I said. “I’d love to show you where I grew up, and it’d be great to have a friend along. As much as I love my mom and dad, they make me crazy sometimes.”
He grinned at me. “So, you want me along as a buffer.”
“Yup.”
“I’d love to see where you grew up, so count me in.”
“Great! I’ll buy us plane tickets, since I’m assuming you wouldn’t want to fly your Cessna all the way across the country.”
“Yeah, that’s a bit far. We’ll get there in a fraction of the time on a commercial jet.” I nodded at that and climbed off his lap, and he asked, “Where are you going?”
“You’ve probably lost all feeling in your legs, so I’m getting off you. Plus, I’m hungry and want a snack.”
He jumped up too and took my hand, and as he led me to the kitchen he said, “You weren’t heavy at all, but it’s great that you want to eat. I’m planning to put together a nice antipasto tray with a lot of your favorite things.”
As I helped Lorenzo load up a platter with cheeses, pickled vegetables, crunchy breadsticks, and olives, I said, “You know, you have a weird thing about wanting to feed me.”
He glanced at me and asked, “Is it obnoxious? I don’t mean it to be.”
“Actually, it’s sweet. I just have to wonder what’s behind it.”
He stopped what he was doing and turned to me. “I get that dieting is part of your job—you feel you have to look a certain way to land roles. But I think sometimes you deny yourself things you really want to eat as a way of punishing yourself.”
I said, “You’re right. I definitely do that.”
“Am I doing the wrong thing when I try to get you to eat?”
“That’s not what you do. You just make sure I have options available, in case I want them. If you were actually trying to make me eat or making me feel bad about it, it would be obnoxious. I’ve had first-hand experience with that.”
