A Clean Break (Gay Amish Romance Book 2) (28 page)

Estoy extended his hand to David. “Welcome to the family.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Uncle Vic and Auntie Baby just pulled up,” Jen said, peering out the window by the door. “Oh, and there’s Aaron. He ran to the store.”

Gloria hugged David, and he had to stoop. “Such a good husband. Do you think my husband ever goes to the store? Let alone
cooks
?” She snorted. “He would be lost without me. But you boys today are different.” She stepped back and eyed David and Isaac critically. “Which one of you is the wife?”

Estoy’s bushy eyebrows shot up, and he glanced between Isaac and David.

“
Mom!
” Jen glared. “It doesn’t work like that.”

“What? It’s a real question. I didn’t mean anything bad. Was that bad?”

David smiled. “It’s okay.”

Isaac added, “We’re not offended.”

“See?” Gloria said to Jen before her brows drew sharply together. “What are you wearing?”

Jen looked down at her jeans, T-shirt and ever-present fuzzy blue slippers. “This is the house uniform.” She winked at David and Isaac, who wore jeans and T-shirts but no slippers. Jen’s purple tee read
San Dimas High School Football
. “I like to be comfortable, Mom.”

“So do we! But at least our shirts have buttons,” Gloria said. To David and Isaac, she added, “She wears scrubs all the time—you’d think she’d want to get a little dressed up once in a while!” She unlaced her running shoes. “Pacs, hand me my
tsinelas
.”

Jen’s father reached into the hall closet and pulled out two pairs of thin slippers from the collection in the back corner. David had wondered about the slippers before, but had forgotten to ask Aaron why they were there.

“I’m sorry…I thought your name was Estoy?” Isaac asked.

Jen laughed, still holding the huge container of food. “We Flips are very, very big on nicknames. Pacs is short for our last name. I know—it’s weird.”

Gloria said something to her husband in another language, and Jen clucked her tongue. “No Tagalog, remember? English so everyone understands.”

“Yes, yes. Sorry!” Gloria sighed heavily. “I am always doing something wrong in my daughter’s eyes.”

Laughing, Jen went toward the kitchen. “Poor Mom—so hard done by!”

The next little while was a flurry of arriving family members, all bearing large dishes of food. There were introductions and many hugs, which David still wasn’t quite comfortable with. Also a stream of questions.

“No electricity at all?”

“Tell us about this Amish mafia I see on TV. Do you know them?”

“Will you ever see your family again?”

“Why are Amish beards like that?”

David escaped outside to get a little fresh air on the narrow back patio. The sun peeked through the clouds, and he inhaled deeply. Since Jen’s family didn’t drink, there wasn’t anything out at this party, and he wished he could have just a little something to calm his nerves. He hadn’t had an episode again, but his chest felt tight.

Isaac seemed so much better at meeting new people and answering their questions. In Zebulon David had done okay with the staff working at the drive-in, but when there were big groups his tongue felt thick and he wanted to be anywhere else.

“There he is!” Clark slid the glass door shut behind him. “The Paculbas can be a little overwhelming, huh?”

David breathed a sigh that it was Clark, and he wouldn’t have to answer any more questions. “They’re all very kind. I don’t think I’ve ever hugged that many people in a row in my life.”

Clark chuckled. “Indeed. It’s funny—all the white Adventists I knew growing up, including my family, were not exactly what you’d call demonstrative. But the Filipinos did not get that memo.”

“The Amish aren’t either. The adults especially. It’s like as you get older, you get more and more…I don’t know. Serious, I guess. It’s not that they’re unkind, or don’t care. They’re just…”

“Repressed?”

David had to laugh. “I suppose so.” He motioned to the glass door and the people milling around the main floor. “It’s nice, though. That Jen has such a big family. Her parents seem to really like Aaron.”

“Do they ever. We weren’t sure how it was going to go, to be honest. I mean, Jen already has a swishy gay BFF, and bringing home a white boyfriend could have been a bad scene. The key is that she waited so long to get serious about a guy. They were so relieved she’s not a lesbian that they didn’t care who he was. Plus, he’s wonderful, so that’s an added bonus.” Clark straightened the collar on his silky red shirt.

“You’re not quite as…” David waved a hand over Clark’s outfit of shirt and slacks. “Sparkly.”

Clark laughed. “I tone it down a bit for the family. Not that I’m anything but out and proud, but there’s a time and a place for see-through mesh.” He drew a little tube from his pocket and ran it over his lips before smacking them together. He held it out. “Gloss?”

“No thanks.”

“You never know, you might like it.”

David laughed. “It doesn’t quite seem like me.”

“True. You’re very manly, with your tools and your strong silences. Tall, dark, and deliciously broody.” He stood up straighter. “Oh! I almost forgot—I took a picture of the table in my condo.” He pulled out his phone and tapped. “See how amazing it looks?”

The dining table did look good in the photo—big and proud, yet simple, with four chairs around it. “I’m sorry the rest of the chairs will be a few weeks at least.”

“No worries. Not your fault the wood’s on back order. I just have exquisite taste for the rare and wonderful, clearly. You should come over for dinner and experience your handiwork in its new home.”

“Sure. That would be nice.”

“What would?”

David turned to find Isaac in the doorway with a strange expression. “Clark was inviting us over for dinner.”

“Yes, once I have all the chairs, I’ll throw a lavish dinner party. With lots of wine, I promise.” He glanced inside beyond Isaac and lowered his voice. “It’s not that Jen’s family doesn’t know she and Aaron indulge, but she finds it easier to stick to soda when they’re here.”

Isaac shrugged. “I don’t mind. I don’t really like the taste of alcohol anyway.”

Clark tilted his head. “Bless. I just want to put you in my pocket.”

“Come and eat!” Gloria called out.

“Coming!” Clark shouted. “Make sure you try the chicken adobo.” He held his fingers to his lips and kissed them. “Perfection.” He brushed past Isaac and disappeared inside.

Isaac looked after him, and when he turned back to David, his mouth was a thin line.

“What’s wrong?” David asked. He snagged Isaac’s hand, worry rising.

Isaac opened and closed his mouth, and then sighed. “Nothing. It’s stupid. Come on, we should go inside.”

“Wait. Tell me.” David squeezed Isaac’s fingers.

“It’s just…” Isaac glanced back inside. “Sometimes I feel like—”

Aaron appeared in the door. “You guys aren’t hungry?”

“We’re coming,” Isaac said. He let go of David’s hand. “It’s nothing. Let’s eat.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” Isaac seemed to shake off whatever was bothering him. “My stomach’s growling. Come on.”

The food was spread over the dining table, pots and plates of exotic-looking meat and soups, and things David wasn’t quite sure how to identify. Gloria shepherded them around the table, spooning generous portions onto their plates.

“This is chicken adobo, and this is
pancit
. You have to try the
kare-kare
. And the
lumpia
and the
caldereta
.”

David’s plate was getting so heavy he had to hold it with two hands. “I think I have enough to start. I’m afraid I’ll spill it.”

“I want to make sure you boys are eating enough. I know Jing-Jing certainly isn’t feeding you.”

From across the table where she scooped rice onto her plate, Jen rolled her eyes. “It’s not like I’m busy at the hospital or anything.”

Gloria spooned something else onto Isaac’s plate. “I was a nurse, but of course my daughter has to do one better and be a doctor. So many brains. My grandchildren are going to cure cancer. If I ever have any, that is.”

“I’m walking away, Mom,” Jen said.

There were about a dozen people visiting, and they sat all over the main floor—in the living room, and by the kitchen counter, and anywhere there was a chair. Clark sat at one of the kitchen stools, but when David headed that way, Isaac tugged him toward the living room, and they squeezed next to Aaron and Estoy on the couch, balancing their plates on their knees.

David took a bite before remembering he hadn’t prayed. Isaac was already eating as well. More and more they were forgetting, and David wondered if it even mattered. Just in case, he put down his fork and silently recited the words. He knew it wasn’t nearly enough all things considered, but at least it was something.

Aaron swallowed a mouthful and pointed to one of the stews. “That might be a little spicy. Well, not
spicy
, exactly, but the flavors are strong. It takes some getting used to after the food we grew up on.”

Jen’s Aunt Erlinda spoke up from the arm chair nearby. “What kind of food did you eat?”

“A lot of chicken,” Aaron answered. “Potatoes. Pie. Hearty kind of stuff. Pretty bland. Also a lot of sugar.”

Jen came to perch on the arm of the couch by Aaron. “Oh my god, there’s this pie made of molasses that Aaron made for me once. It was
amazing
.”

Isaac laughed. “You made shoofly pie?”

“I did. I know—Mom would be horrified to see a man making pie.” Aaron laughed.

“My sister Mary’s pie is incredible,” David said. He felt Isaac tense beside him, and wished he’d kept his big mouth shut.

“Aaron, why haven’t you made this pie for us in all this time?” Gloria called from near the dining table, where she was still surveying the food.

“I wasn’t sure you’d like it.”

Jen said, “It’s sugar. Who doesn’t like sugar?”

“Well, you know your Uncle Junior is diabetic, Jing.”

“Because he likes sugar way too much,” Jen muttered.

“Perhaps you can bring it at Easter,” Estoy said.

Aaron smiled. “Sure.”

“You boys should bring all your favorite food. Then you’ll feel right at home. How do you like the kare-kare, David?” Estoy asked.

He swallowed his bite, savoring the beef and sauce smothering his rice. “I like it very much. Thank you. It tastes like…peanuts?”

“Yes! Exactly. Good, good. You’ll have much more of it in years to come.” Estoy nodded, smiling kindly.

With his own smile, David scooped up another forkful. As they ate, Isaac talked to Estoy about what he was learning in history class, and David’s thoughts drifted to Mary’s shoofly pie and home.

The wave of longing might have knocked him over if he’d been standing. Surrounded here by Jen’s family, he wondered what his own was doing. It was a church Sunday, and the singing would soon be starting.

He wondered whose house church was at. It would be the Lantz’s turn about now. Perhaps the youngies were all taking their seats at the long table, Anna and Mary among them. Grace as well. He hoped she’d found someone new—someone so much better than him.

“What?” Isaac whispered.

There was a spirited conversation dominating the living room about something David didn’t quite understand but was a sport of some kind. He shrugged. “Nothing. Just thinking.”

A soft smile lifted Isaac’s lips. “We all know that never ends well.”

He nudged Isaac’s shoulder. “Nope.”

“Tell me.”

David kept his voice low. “It’s strange to think we haven’t gone to church once since we left.” They’d talked about trying different English churches once in a while, but each Sunday morning they wound up staying in bed.

“I know. We could go to another kind of church here, but it seems wrong for some reason. Disloyal. Which doesn’t really make sense at all.”

“It does to me.” He glanced around the room at Jen’s family. Raucous laughter filled the air, and people talked over each other in a mix of Tagalog and English. “It’s like a barn raising, but with no work.”

Isaac laughed. “It is.”

“Jennifer tells us you’re both carpenters,” Estoy said.

David tried to ignore the pang for the days when that was true. With each passing week, Isaac was busier with school, and David insisted he not worry about coming to help at the workshop. It was better for Isaac to learn. Yet David missed him fiercely.

“David’s amazing. He’s taught me so much. I’ve always loved working with wood, but for now I’m going to school.”

School made Isaac so very happy, and that was what mattered.
Even if he doesn’t want to be a carpenter, he still wants me
.

“Okay, you guys have to settle this dispute since you’re not invested in either team,” Jen announced.

David focused on her. “Uh-huh. Okay.”

“Here’s the situation. There are the Oakland A’s, and the San Francisco Giants. One of the bonehead players for the A’s—”

“That’s leading the witness!” someone called out.

“They’re the judges, not witnesses,” Gloria said.

“Then it’s leading the judges.”

Aaron leaned over. “Just go with it.”

The food was heavy, and the room fairly vibrated with laughter and chatter. It was nice, but David felt a headache forming by his temple. He nodded and smiled, careful not to say the wrong thing.