Tempranillo.
Of course I’ll have to buy the Barbera instead, because every time I buy a Spanish red, Jonathan starts to sulk. It’s not that I’m jealous of Zach for being Jonathan’s ex. I just wish his memory didn’t have to join us for dinner quite so often. I hate having to compete with nostalgia.
I CAME home that afternoon to a house that smelled like seafood and Cole barefoot in my kitchen.
“Are you busy tomorrow night?” I asked him.
He glanced slyly at me. “I don’t know, love. What are you offering?”
“I have tickets to see Wicked .” It was the first time in months that I would actually be in town to use my own seats at the show, and I was looking forward to it.
“Two gay men going to the theater?” he teased. “Such a stereotype, isn’t it?”
“You know, I’ve never understood that,” I answered as I opened the wine that was sitting on the counter. “I go to the theater every chance I get, and I can tell you, the vast majority of the men there are straight. Believe me,” I said, smiling at him, “I look!”
“I’m sure you do,” he laughed. “It doesn’t matter to me. I’d love to go.”
“Good. How long until dinner’s ready?”
“Long enough for you to shower, if that’s what you were going to ask.”
I emerged from the bathroom ten minutes later to find him sitting on the bed, grinning at me. He was giving me that look through his hair that told me he was laughing at me for something. “Hey, sweetie,” he said. “Did you forget something?”
“I don’t think so. Why?”
“Your phone rang while you were in the shower.” I picked my cell phone up off of the dresser to check it, but he said, “Not that one.
Your landline. I hope it wasn’t terribly inappropriate of me to answer for you.”
“That’s fine. Who was it?”
“Your father.”
“My father?” And then I realized why he was laughing at me. I was supposed to have dinner with my father tonight. “Shit! It’s his birthday!” I checked my watch. I was already ten minutes late. If I hurried, I could make it to the restaurant in another twenty, but I also knew that Cole had dinner halfway ready. “Cole, I—”
“Relax,” he said in that mocking tone. “We realized you must have had your days mixed up, so—”
“Was he angry?”
“I don’t think so, but I dare say I don’t know your father—”
“I should call him back.”
“Honey, just wait and talk to him in person. He’ll be here in five minutes.”
“ What ?”
Now he looked even more amused. I wouldn’t have thought it was possible if I hadn’t seen it myself. “I’ve been trying to tell you, sweetie, but you won’t keep quiet long enough listen to me. He was already on this end of town, and he obviously wanted to see you, and there’s plenty of cioppino—”
“You invited him over?”
“Is that not what I’ve just been saying?”
I was trying to imagine the conversation between the two of them—Cole talking non-stop, calling my father “darling,” and my dad trying to keep up. “And he said yes?”
“Of course.” I had a feeling he just hadn’t been able to come up with an excuse quickly enough to get out of it. “It’s not a problem, is it?”
“I’m not sure it’s a great idea, that’s all. My dad isn’t very comfortable with my sexuality, and—” Right then, the doorbell rang. I definitely would have preferred to answer it myself, but I realized I was still standing there wearing nothing but a towel. Cole smiled at me again.
“Don’t worry, sweetie. I’ll get it.”
I got dressed quickly, telling myself the entire time that it would be fine. There was no reason to assume that dinner would be a disaster.
When I came out of the bedroom, I found that Cole had managed to shepherd my father straight into the dining room, where he had already set the table. Cole was talking a mile a minute. And my father?
My father had a look on his face that was part shock and part horror. It