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Authors: TJ Klune

Tell Me It's Real (26 page)

BOOK: Tell Me It's Real
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Dad grinned as he shut the door. “Wow. Maybe I should find myself a boyfriend too. Apparently the gay boys give each other nice things.”

“I heard that,” my mother said from the kitchen. “You go find yourself a nice man, Larry. Let me know how that works out for you.”

“Your mom thinks that if I was gay, I’d be a bottom,” he whispered to me.

“The fact that you’re sharing this with me does not bode well for how tonight is going to go,” I told him. “I’ve been here for two minutes, Dad. You think we could wait until at least dessert before we have to have this conversation and show Vince just how dysfunctional we really are? I’d like to lead him in with a false sense of security before ripping it all away to reveal the dark underbelly of the Auster family.”

“Of course,” he said cheerfully. “Oh, and your mother wanted to know if you are going to be allowed to eat at the table with the rest of us, or if your master is going to make you sit at his feet and stare at the floor and feed you by hand.” He glanced over his shoulder then leaned in closer to me and lowered his voice. “We haven’t told Nana about that side of you, so I just wanted to ask if you could keep the pony sounds to a minimum. We’re not stifling you, and we want you to be who you are, always, but I don’t want Nana to get worried when you start neighing when Vince hands you a sugar cube or piece of apple.”

“I can’t believe you guys think I
do
that. Dad, I’m not a fucking pony! Vince is not my master! He’s my
boyfriend.

“Language,” my father said.

“Sorry,” I grumbled. And I was. If there was one thing my father asked for, it was that we watched our mouths. He was of the opinion that cursing added nothing to a conversation. I didn’t fucking agree with that in the slightest, but it was fucking important to him, so I fucking did it. Fucking shit balls. “I’ll be sitting at the table like everyone else.”

“Is that Paul?” I heard Nana shout from the living room.

“Yes, Nana. It’s me.”

“Johnny Depp! You hear that? Paul is here!”

“Ass-wrangler!” Johnny Depp squawked. “Don’t touch me!”

“This is so not going to go well,” I muttered. I wheeled the bike down the hall and hid it in one of the bedrooms before going back out to the living room.

My nana, Gigi, sat in her old lounge chair, her feet propped up on a bright green ottoman that clashed horribly with her bright purple recliner. Ever since I was a kid, she’d always had a thing for vivid colors, not caring if they went well with each other or not. She used to tell me that she was a little bit color-blind, and the bright colors helped her see them clearly. It wasn’t until years later that I learned that one cannot be “a little bit color-blind” and that she was essentially full of shit. Some might think that she was batshit crazy, and given that her cat used to eat out of her mouth, she just might have been, but she was also my nana: a hard-core woman fiercely protective of her family. Unfortunately, she included Johnny Depp as part of her family and told me once that it was just good-natured ribbing and that the bird wasn’t really homophobic. I didn’t believe that one in the slightest. The bird hated homosexuals.

“Paulie!” she grinned at me toothlessly. Her white, curly hair shot off from her head in odd directions. She was a short, squat woman with a kind, wrinkled face and eyes that showed a sharp intelligence that had yet to fade.

“Fairy!” Johnny Depp told me. He sat in a large cage in the corner, his gorgeous plumage hiding his evil, beating heart. He glared at me as I entered the room, clicking his claws against the wooden beam as he moved closer. “Don’t put your finger in my bum!”

Nana cackled.

I hadn’t heard that one before. “Are you teaching him new things?” I said as I kissed her cheek. “I told you that it can’t be healthy for an animal to be so hateful.”

“I didn’t teach him a thing,” she said, grabbing and squeezing my hand. “He seems to think of these things on his own.”

“You’re so full of shit,” I told her.

“Larry!” she called out.

“What?”

“Your son is using foul language around me!”

“Language,” my father scolded from the kitchen.

“Paul touched penises with a neighbor’s dog,” Johnny Depp said.

“Oh Jesus,” I groaned. “Nana, can we put him in another room, at least until we leave? Or better yet, can I flush him down the toilet?”

“Killing animals is a sign that you could be a serial killer,” she told me. “I saw that on the news. You kill animals, you grow up to kill hookers.”

“I don’t want to kill anyone,” I told her. “Especially not hookers. I just don’t want that bird to be around tonight. Or alive.”

“Paul’s a homo!” Johnny Depp told the room. “Homo, homo, homo.”

“What happened to your face?” she asked me, concerned about my black eye. She pulled me down until I sat next to her on the arm of the recliner.

“I was mobbed because I’m so famous. They wanted my hot body as I was trying to escape. Men were trying to rip off my clothes and I got an elbow to the eye.”

She nodded sympathetically. “You tripped and fell again?”

I sighed. “Into the wall with my face. Wheels got under my feet, and I didn’t want him to die, so I stepped on his wheel instead and face-punched the wall.”

“See? I knew you wouldn’t want to kill hookers. Not if you got beat up to avoid killing Wheels. How many grandmothers can say that about their grandchildren?”

“I think you’re seriously overestimating the number of serial killers out in the world.”

“Is the young man coming over to meet me a serial killer?” She reached out with a gnarled hand and patted my knee. “I overheard Larry and Matty talking. Why did they say you’re a pony?”

Goddammit.
“I think you misheard them, Nana. They were probably talking about how I planted peonies at my house.” Lying to your grandmother is okay if it has to do with sadomasochistic sex. Trust me on that.

“You full of shit, Paul?” she asked me.

“Dad!” I shouted. “Nana’s cursing in here.”

“Language!” he called back.

“Paul’s a cock-monger,” Johnny Depp muttered.

“He’s not a serial killer,” I assured her. “At least I don’t think he is. He doesn’t have a mean bone in his body, so I am pretty sure he wouldn’t go after a hooker. I don’t think he knows any hookers, so that’s a good thing, just to be safe.”

“His name?”

“Vince Melody Taylor,” I said with a grin.

“Melody?” She giggled. “Oh. Is he a floater like you?”

“Nancy-boy?” Johnny Depp asked.

I rolled my eyes. “No, Nana. He’s not a floater. He’s a manly man. Apparently Melody is a family name.” And the thought of his family again sent a pang across my chest. I tried to keep it from my face, but Nana’s too quick and too perceptive; she always has been.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Do I need to knock him down to size for you?”

I gave a fake laugh. It almost sounded real. “Nah. Nothing to do with him. He’s actually….” I stopped myself.

“Actually what?”

If not to her, then who?
“Amazing,” I told her quietly. “I don’t know what the hell he’s thinking being with me. He’s not the smartest guy in the world, but he makes up for it, Nana. He does. He’s got this heart that just… I don’t know. He sees the world differently than anyone else I know. He chooses to see the good in people. He’s persistent, he’s sure of himself. He knows what he wants and he goes for it.” I looked down at my hands. “He’s everything I’m not. And that confuses me.”

She smiled sweetly at me and reached up to cup my face. “Paul, I’m going to tell you this once and only once, okay?”

I nodded at my beautiful grandmother.

She slapped me upside my head. For being such an old little thing, she had freakish strength. I thought she might have made a deal with the devil to be the strongest old lady to have ever existed. “If you spout any of that bullshit to me ever again, I will tan your hide, you hear me? You need to get over yourself and stop being a whiny little bitch. If he sees something in you that the rest of us have seen for years, then God almighty, you better be giving it as good as you get.”

“Ow,” I mumbled.

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be such a baby. There’s too many other people in the world who want nothing more than to kick you when you’re down. Don’t you dare do that job for them.”

“You were talking to Sandy too, weren’t you?” I accused her.

“Of course I was,” she said. “He’s family. And if he didn’t tell me what was going on, I wouldn’t be hearing about it at all since you keep all this to yourself.”

I chewed on my thumbnail. “But what if he’s Freddie Prinze Junioring me?”

“I don’t even know what the hell you’re talking about,” she snapped. “Maybe instead of making up words, you should focus on pleasing your man. Your old nana knows a thing or two about that, you can be sure.”

“There are times in my life I wish I didn’t understand English,” I told her. “Hearing you say that is one of those times.”

“Is he handsome?” she asked with a smirk.

I blushed, unable to stop myself. “Quite hideous, to be honest.”

“Uh-huh. That’s why you look like a tomato right now. I can’t wait to meet this young man if he’s got you all up in knots after only a few days. After all, you know what happened with your parents after a wee—”

“No chance in hell,” I said. “And I’d appreciate if that was never mentioned to him. Ever.”

“Wow. You were sure quick to protest
that
one.”

“Nana, you don’t understand. He’s already convinced that he’s halfway in lo—”

The doorbell rang, cutting me off.

“Oh sweat balls,” I moaned. “This will be the second I’ll remember later on as the moment before the shit hit the fan.”

“Language,” my father shouted from the kitchen.

“Go get the door,” Nana said.

“Butthole bitch,” Johnny Depp said.

“You stay out of this,” I warned the bird. He eyed me warily through the bars on his cage. “For some reason, Vince wants to see you, but I swear to God if you keep up the whole time we’re here, I will put you in the washing machine.”

“Dick-lips,” he responded.

“Bastard,” I hissed at him, moving past the cage.

I took a deep breath once I reached the door and sent up a little prayer to God for tonight to not be the social abortion of the season. I opened the door.

God, he was so fucking handsome.

I could see the slight nervousness on his face as I opened the door, as if he was unsure who’d be on the other side and was fretting about it. But as soon as he saw it was me, that look faded and a brilliant smile bloomed on his face, dimples out in full force. He was so fucking
happy
to see me that it almost knocked me flat. I didn’t think I’d ever had anyone look at me like that. It was disconcerting. It was terrifying. It was fucking awesome.

“Hi,” he said, almost shyly, stepping into the door and kissing me sweetly.

“Hey,” I said roughly. “Thanks for coming over.”

He shrugged. “Your mom invited me. I couldn’t say no to that.”

And what about your mom, Vince? What’s going on with her?

“You may end up regretting that sooner than you think,” I muttered to him. Only then did I notice his arms were full. “What’s all this?”

He blushed. He fucking blushed. It was so unfair. I blushed and I looked like I had third-degree burns spreading over my body. He blushed and it made him hotter. “Just thought I should bring something for your folks and your nana.” He shuffled his feet. “Also got you a birthday present, even though your birthday has already passed. I felt bad that I missed it.”

“You… come in here all… so awesome and I can’t even… so unfair….”

He looked up and grinned. “You’re sputtering,” he murmured. “That usually means I’ve done something good. It’s nothing big. Just flowers for your mom and Nana, and some scotch for your dad because he looks like he’d like it.”

I shook my head. “You’re so fucking weird.”

“Yeah. But you think I’m awesome.”

“Did you have a good day?” I asked, trying to keep my voice level as I closed the door behind him.

I thought he stiffened slightly, but it was gone before I could be sure it was there. “It was fine,” he said.

“Oh. That’s good.” Only then did I notice slightly dark circles around his eyes. “You okay? You look tired.” I felt bad. “Look, we don’t have to do this now if you’re not feeling it. Trust me, my family can be exhausting like you wouldn’t believe. Maybe we should—”

“It’s fine, Paul,” he said with an exasperated smile. “I just haven’t been sleeping well.”

“Is it your back? Still sore?”

“Yeah. A little bit.”

“Are you sure you—”

“Paul!” Nana shouted from the living room.

I groaned. “Here we go,” I whispered. “Yeah?” I shouted back.

“Quit trying to get fresh with your young man in the hallway and bring his ass in here so I can meet him!”

“Language!” my father yelled from the kitchen. “Hi, Vince!”

“Hi, Larry!” Vince called back.

“Hi, Vince!”

“Hello, Matty!”

“Paul’s a fudge packer!”

Vince’s eyes bulged.

“Johnny Depp,” I sighed. “I told you. This is going to be bad. He hates everyone and all he does is say horrid things. I would feel bad, but
you
wanted to see this. I only ask that if you feel like screaming and running in the opposite direction you give me plenty of notice so that I can start looking for a new country to live in so that I may die in embarrassment around people who don’t speak the same language I do.”

“This will probably be the most magical day ever,” he assured me.

“You say that now. I’ll ask that you remember that in two hours when you’re trying to find the best way to file a restraining order against us, or if you’re looking up support groups after being verbally raped by a parrot.”

“Hi, my name is Vince,” he intoned. “Paul’s homophobic parrot touched me in my no-no place.”

“You’re a natural,” I sighed. “Let’s get this over with.”

He followed me down the hall and into the living room, where Nana was waiting expectantly in her chair. She’d put on her glasses, smoothed down her hair, and sat with her hands in her lap. If one saw her like this, they’d think her a sweet, demure little old lady. Too bad the façade was all a lie. I knew the steel-trap mind and tiger’s claws that were buried underneath. If Gigi didn’t like him, she’d tear him to shreds piece by piece. I’d seen her do it before and there was little one can do to stop it.

BOOK: Tell Me It's Real
4.24Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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