Family Man (11 page)

“I still wonder if I dropped it in the parking lot, or if somebody stole it. It was rabbit fur. It was brown and gray.”

“I know! I remember it!”

“We were in Boston—”

“
Mom
!”

She gestured toward the TV, which was still on some home-shopping channel. “They showed one. It was just like the one your dad bought for me.”

“And?”

She shook her head. “It was so soft. Your dad looked and looked. He even offered a reward.”

This was always what she did, circling back over her words, repeating herself endlessly.

“
Why are you drinking again?
”

“It’s not my fault, Trey.”

“Then whose fault is it?”

“It’s a disease.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit.”

“You don’t understand. You never understand.” Her voice caught, and tears fell from her eyes, but any sympathy I’d ever had for her had dried up years ago.

“So you saw a goddamn fur coat on the TV and decided that was a good reason to get drunk?”

“You don’t understand.”

“I understand that you’ll use any flimsy excuse you can find.”

“It’s a disease. It’s not my fault. I can’t help it!”

“It
is
your fault! The disease didn’t decide to drink. The disease didn’t go find your purse. The disease didn’t walk out the door and down the street to Lucky’s. The disease didn’t walk to the back row where the vodka is and pick the bottle up off the shelf—”

“I didn’t go to Lucky’s. You never understand.”

“—and walk up to the register and pay for it. The disease didn’t open the bottle, Mom. The disease didn’t drink it, either. You did. It
is
your fault. It’s always your fault.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head hard, like a dog shaking water from its fur, as if she were trying to shake her thoughts into order, trying to make sense of what I was saying. The motion caused her to fall sideways a bit. She caught herself and sat there, frozen, leaning to the side, her eyes shut tight. “It was so soft. It was brown and gray. We looked and looked…”

Swearing, I turned away from her and headed for the stairs. On the way I kicked something on the floor, a small brown bottle that went immediately under the couch. Instead of picking it up, I went up the stairs and slammed my bedroom door shut behind me, thankful that my Gram was asleep and without her hearing aid wouldn’t be wakened by my temper.

I threw myself down on the bed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I held my pillow over my head and forced myself to take a deep breath. And another. The anger began to fade, but behind was the tired resignation I’d grown so familiar with. It brought tears to my eyes. Not sympathy for my mother, but frustration at knowing that I was on a merry-go-round that would never, ever stop.

Up and down, round and round, the same goddamn nauseating music going on and on and on. It was enough to make me wish Vinnie had asked me to go home with him. How much better would my night have been?

I probably wouldn’t still be a virgin.

I took another deep, shuddering breath. Yes, the merry-go-round went on, and I’d never escape, but at least now I had a new distraction. I thought about Vinnie—the way he’d kissed me in the club, grinding against me, and again on my porch, a sweet, lingering kiss that made me giddy—and I smiled.

I shouldn’t really have agreed to the date on Sunday. I had too much schoolwork to do and too little time between jobs.

On the other hand, it would give me a perfectly good excuse to spend all of my time at home locked in my room, studying.

And on Sunday, Vinnie Fierro would kiss me.

Chapter Thirteen

Counting Vince, there were currently fifty-five living and local members of the Fierro family. Counting exes, the few who had moved out of Chicago and kids away at college, the family boasted sixty-seven members. Thirty-some of those members worked for the restaurants in some fashion, both the cafe and the one downtown, though some of the work was rather loosely associated.

Vince had six living aunts and uncles on his father’s side and fourteen cousins. He had four nieces and nephews and twenty-three first cousins once removed, though every last one of them called him Uncle Vin. He had a first cousin twice removed as well: Shane Giuseppe, the much-lauded fourth generation currently working at the restaurant. The poor kid was only sixteen and had dreams of going places and doing things. Vince hoped he got to live his dreams, but he wouldn’t have bet much money on that happening.

The Saturday night after his date with Trey was Uncle Marco and Aunt Eva’s fortieth anniversary party, which meant it was a command performance for anyone living and able to get to the original cafe. The restaurant would remain open because it always did except for Christmas and Easter, but the basement would be filled to the gills with Fierros until the upstairs closed, and then they would very likely run the place out of booze, bread and desserts. Most of the upstairs had been reserved by friends of Marco and Eva, and most of them wouldn’t get to pay for their dinner, either, especially if they came with a present.

When Vince arrived, the party was already in full swing. He’d had to mingle with many of the upstairs patrons before heading to the basement party, and once there he was mobbed by children wanting his attention. Eventually he was able to get to Marco and Eva and pay his respects. Vince’s mother was seated near them, and Eva and Lisa spent a good fifteen minutes fussing over him, asking if he’d found a girl yet, trying to set him up with people they knew who knew people. They were ramping up the pressure to get him to commit to a string of dates when Frank rescued him and dragged him over to the group of men at the service bar, where Vince’s own father poured him a scotch.

Dino handed Vince the glass with a nod. “How’s business?”

“Good.” Vince sipped the scotch. “Keeping me busy.”

“We’re busy here,” Dino said, his voice heavy with meaning. “Could really use an accountant.”

“You need to stay by family,” Frank added. “Don’t know what will happen to an unmarried man if he strays too far from home.”

Dino clapped his hand on Vince’s shoulder. His dad had already had a few glasses of scotch, Vince could tell. “Your mama wants more grandbabies, son.” When Vince winced, Dino laughed. “That’s right. Fina has
eight
. Louis and Gilly can’t have them all. You and Rachel need to get going.”

“Families need babies,” Frank agreed, toasting the air with his drink.

Dino met the toast. “Men need wives.”

“Otherwise they end up like your cousin Hank, Vinnie. You don’t want to be like Hank, do you?”

Vinnie pasted on a smile and toasted with them, drinking faster than he should and wishing the women would harass him again.

He escaped the men at the bar and mingled around in the back, where he surveyed the crowd and ate standing from his heaping plate. There would be dancing once everyone was done eating, though food would be available until it was all gone. He nodded and smiled at Rachel, who was caught in a web of female cousins and aunts giving her the same grilling he’d gotten: get married, have kids.

Within the Fierro clan only three of them were over twenty-five and unmarried: Vince, Rachel and Hank. Hank was the only one they didn’t hound anymore, but sometimes the way they spoke of him, it was like he was dead already. He was ten years older than Vin, but they’d been funny about him since Vince had come out of college. Hank rarely came to family functions; he’d moved far into the northern burbs and kept to himself. When he did show up, he never had a date, not anymore, and he always looked grim.

No, Vince didn’t want to end up like Hank.

He drank some wine and pondered what it would have been like to bring Trey. Could he have, he wondered? If he’d just said he was a friend? Maybe. They’d have all asked a lot of questions, many of them including his availability to be matched up for dating single Fierros. Which would mean Trey would say he was gay, and…well.

What if Vince said Trey was his date?

He laughed at himself and drank more wine.

When the dancing started, the kids found him again, and he shucked his jacket and got all hot and sweaty twirling the girls around and teaching the boys how to behave around the girls. His sister Gilly nudged him to dance with Marcie, who blushed but smiled under Vince’s teasing. He did a turn with Eva too, and his mother.

At nine thirty he collapsed beside Rachel and reached for her uneaten cake.

“I’m going to sneak out for a smoke pretty soon,” she murmured. “If I thought I could go for good without a lecture from Mom, I would.”

“Mmm,” Vince said around her cake. He wiped his mouth with a napkin and shook his head. “You wouldn’t hear the end of it for a month.”

Rachel groaned. “God, Vinnie. Doesn’t it drive you crazy? Because I know you got the same degree of grilling I did. I swear one of these times I’m going to show up with a drug dealer, just to make them shut up.” She nudged him with her elbow. “Speaking of dates. How did yours go with Trey?”

She spoke the latter quietly, but Vince still looked around nervously before replying. “Good.” He took wine. “Great, actually. It was a nice time.”

“You get lucky?”

Vince glared at her. “You’re not getting that kind of information.”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “Do you even know how to get lucky with Trey?”

Not really, no. He had ideas, obviously. He’d admit to a little web recon, and hadn’t that been an adventure unto itself. He picked up a bite of cake and held it toward her. “Here. Put this in your mouth.”

She pushed it away and rose. “Come on. Let’s go smoke.”

They went out the back door that led up from the basement into an alley, heading down a few buildings and obscuring themselves behind a doorway. Rachel passed Vince a cigarette, and he took it and the lighter from her, setting up a flame and a protective shield via his palm for her before lighting up himself. The smoke burned his lungs and the nicotine buzzed at his brain, and within three puffs he was feeling a whole lot better.

He ashed out into the alley. “What do you think would happen if I brought Trey to a gig like this?”

“As a date, you mean?”

“Yeah.”

Rachel took a long drag and blew out before replying. “I don’t know. I really don’t. I’d like to think they’d get over it fast because it was Trey, but—well, Hank doesn’t come to family functions for a reason. Or maybe not. Maybe he’s just worried and it would be okay after all.”

Vince frowned at her. “What do you mean?”

Rachel gave him an incredulous look. “Hank’s gay, Vinnie.”

She might as well have thrown ice water on Vince. “He’s what? Since when?”

“Birth, I suspect.” She glanced sideways at Vince and smiled apologetically. “Or not. I don’t know. But he is now. I thought you knew.”

You don’t want to end up like Hank.
Vince put his cigarette to his lips. “Jesus.”

“Not everyone knows. I think a lot of them are in denial.”

“So the precedent here is, if you’re gay, hide it?”

She sighed. “Maybe? But that doesn’t mean you can’t change it.”

“Rach, I don’t even know what I am. I mean, I don’t feel gay.”

“But you like Trey.”

He nodded. “A lot. So I guess I am.”

“Does it have to have a label? You can be bi or whatever. Or you can just be Vinnie. Trey’s a good guy. If he makes you happy and you make him happy, go for it. Adopt a pile of kids if you want to be a good Fierro, or have a surrogate mother or something.” When Vince twitched, she laughed. “Not ready for kids yet?”

“Fuck, no.” Except the jolt hadn’t been revulsion. More like a shock to his spinal cord at the idea of herding his own band of Fierros into a family event with Trey as his co-bouncer. Trey as part of his family. Trey, period.

No. It hadn’t been revulsion at all.

He flicked the end of his cigarette into the alley. When Rachel handed him a second one, he took it.

“So you guys really aren’t doing it?” she asked as he passed the lighter back. “I thought that was the gay perk or something: fucking like bunnies.”

“Rachel, for God’s sake.” He grimaced at her. “Trey’s not like that.”

“Trey doesn’t like sex?”

“Trey wants to wait for sex. Which I find charming.”
And more than a bit of a relief.

“So you didn’t do
anything
?”

“Jesus. You want me to take a video the next time we make out, or what?”

Her eyes danced. “Yeah, that’d be all right.”

Vince shivered. “
Rach.
”

She laughed. “Seriously, I’m glad it’s working out. You seem happier. Nervous, but happy. Lose the nervous and I think this could be a great deal you have going.”

“A great deal I can’t bring home to the family.”

“You don’t know that.”

He tipped his head back until it rested on the brick behind him. “I don’t know either way.”

“Well, just ride the ride until you’re ready to try and find out.” She elbowed him lightly. “And when you are, give me a holler, and I’ll come play back up.”