When I asked Sebastian, who everyone callsBaz, what was up, he smiled and told me he’d taken the girls andfor an early breakfast at IHOP, then they went to the park wherethey ran off the sugar high, and he made sure they walked longenough for them to reach the little girl version of relaxed. Whilethey were gone, my sister had time and peace to make her twodishes. When Baz and the girls got home, my sister went in to takea shower and the girls had quick baths and got dressed. Baz didtheir hair.
As he was wrapping up his rundown, my sistercame into the kitchen looking the picture of serenity in a winterwhite cable-knit sweater that rested on her hips, worn over a pairof ruby red wide wale cords under which were black cowboy boots. Igave her a big hug and she said in my ear, “He got a blowjob lastnight before he got laid, and he got a blowjob this morning. Ididn’t have to ask him to do a damn thing.”
Incentivizing through reward clearly workswell for Baz.
Since all was well in their world, there wasno need to talk my sister off a ledge.
Baz loaded up their Range Rover, includingtransferring my dishes to their vehicle, while I took Eloise out toBoo. They were enthralled with each other to the point where Boodidn’t even notice me walking away.
We pulled into my parents’ driveway – longuphill driveway – at the same time Andie and Lars were getting outof his – I have to stop here and let you know, anyone who doesn’tdrool over this vehicle has something wrong with them – new MansoryLamborghini Urus Venatus. It had the shiniest black paint I’ve everseen on a vehicle. It’s a crossover SUV, but it’s nothing like myRAV4, and it sure as hell isn’t a hybrid. Lars said it had shit gasmileage, maybe 20 mph on the highway, if he’s lucky. But it’s abeauty. Along the grill work, which is like a futuristic Mad Maxkind of grill, there’s red piping that also goes around the wheels,and there’s one red line down the side of the vehicle, about theheight of the door handles. There’s piping around the tail pipes,and one red line bisecting each side-view mirror. Oh, and pipingover the small spoiler in the back and along the bottom of thecarriage. It’s wicked to look at, and damn it goes fast. Lars tookme, Laura, my sister, and Baz out for a quick spin, and holy hell,what fun. It has red and black interior and it’s totally hightech.
When we got back all hell broke loose. Andiehad taken the girls, who weren’t interested in going for a ride,into the house, and told my parents where the rest of us were. Mymother was waiting by the front door and went into a tirade abouthow rude we were for not coming into the house straight away.
Honestly, Lars is a prince ’cause he doesn’tneed that shit, and he could’ve said a lot of choice words to mymother. But he gave her a peace sign, told us he’d see us inside,and he sauntered in the house like he owned it.
Baz waited until Lars was gone beforeletting my mother have it, and I swear, I wanted to applaud. Hetold her we were having Thanksgiving at her house instead of hisand his wife’s because she can’t get the stick out of her ass longenough to realize how lucky she is to have two fantastic daughtersand two amazing granddaughters, and if she didn’t cut this shitout, she’d be seeing a lot less of all of us. Then he stomped intothe house, leaving me and Laura with our mother, who looked palebut tried to save face and said, “I never,” and then walked intothe house.
Laura turned to me and said, “He earned theblowjobs when he took on the girls this morning. But what he justsaid to Mom…he’s getting a blowjob every morning for the next twoweeks.”
Valeria and Austen love their nana andpoppi, and we didn’t want to do anything to upset that apple cart.I sat next to my dad and across from Baz, who had Austen betweenhim and Laura. Valeria sat next to Laura. Lars, then Andie were tomy right. Andie nonplusses my mother, which meant Valeria had allher nana’s attention. The food was good. My mother’s housekeeperhad prepared the dishes yesterday. All my mother had to do was warmeverything, and, of course, she made a fuss like she’d been cookingfor weeks. My sister’s baked macaroni is one of my all-timefavorites, so I scarfed, hoping for a carb coma. Actually, theconversation at dinner wasn’t too stilted since everyone focusedaway from Mom. We sang “Happy Birthday” to Austen, ate dessert, andleft.
The real fun started at Baz and Laura’s,where we all relaxed, talked, drank, and laughed. Andie keepsphotos of her sculptures on her phone, and she let me see the workthat’ll be in her new show at J-Gestia Gallery in Soho in NYC. Sheinsisted we all come to the opening, and I’m going to go. Baz andLaura go to all Andie’s openings, even some in Italy when they canswing it.
I drank too much to drive home, and spentthe night. Boo was happy to sleep in bed with me – Laura is coolabout that stuff – and we left after breakfast. Baz made “birthday”pancakes and we sang “Happy Birthday” again, and then Austen openedher presents. I got her Design and Drill Creative Workshop. It’s aSTEM drill and construction toy.
No office hours the day after Thanksgiving,and I don’t go shopping on Black Friday. I’m not into crowds andfrenzy buying. Today’s a home spa day. Face masks, lots of lotionsfor different parts of my body, and copious napping.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Flower
What I couldn’t tell Ethan – not because Idon’t want him to know, but I worry about putting him in an awkwardposition at work – is that more happened at Thanksgiving than Ishared in the letter.
To backtrack, right after we cut Austen’scake, my phone pinged and I had a message to call my serviceimmediately. My patients know if they call my service off-hours, onthe weekend, or during holidays, I’ll return the call. I stayed tosing “Happy Birthday,” then asked my dad if I could use his studyto make a work-related call. When he said, “Sure,” I went down thehall and around the corner to his home office, and then closed thedoor before I sat in the big chair behind his desk and called myservice.
The holidays are stressful for everyone fordifferent reasons. For one seventeen-year-old boy they areparticularly horrendous because his father died of cancer lastmonth, and his mother has never worked outside the home.
Ramon, my patient, is seeing me on what Itell families is my scholarship fund. I don’t have a scholarshipfund, though I wish I did. I use the moniker so the families don’tfeel beholden because I’m really giving free visits to my patients.I get these “scholarship fund” kids when a guidance counselor orschool psychologist has a severe case and wants to get the kid intotherapy.
I started to see Ramon when his father was inhospice care at their home, and over the past few months it’sbecome clear the weight of the entire family – he has three youngersisters – has fallen on this poor kid’s shoulders.
I talked to Ramon for about forty minutes,and he breaks my heart. He’s such a good guy who’s looking for amiracle, and he doesn’t know what to do to keep everyone andeverything afloat. On Monday, I’m going to speak to my friends atthe garden center and ask them to give Ramon a part-time job towork after school and on the weekends. The money won’t be enough topay a mortgage, but it’ll make him feel useful and like he’scontributing while I get a social worker friend of mine from SocialServices to go over to the home to help the family.
While I was on the phone with Ramon,absently, I was staring at paperwork on my father’s desk. Somethingcaught my eye, and after the call ended, I picked up a copy of aletter from my father to a business associate overseas. Since mostof the business my father does as the executive manager for animport company is with purveyors of fine foods from theMediterranean, the letter in and of itself was no big deal. But I’dnever seen the company letterhead before. Or, if I had, it didn’ttrip anything until today.
Substantial Food Imports
An ADC Holding company
When I was fighting with Don Di Caro aboutpaying my medical bills, I knew some of how much he was shellingout because, by accident, one of my therapist’s agency had mailedthe Don’s receipt to me. The name and address of his company was onthe receipt: ADC Holding.
While everyone was helping clear the table, Ipulled my father aside and asked him if Don Di Caro had alwaysowned Substantial Food Imports. My father’s answer was, “Leave it,cara.”
A yes or no would make me curious, but “leaveit” means he’s hiding something and there’s a story he doesn’t wantme to know.
On the drive home, my mind started reeling.Did Don Di Caro send Sofia to see me nearly two years ago becausemy father works for him? Did he provide all that care and pay forall those bills out of a sense of obligation beyond what he’dexplained to me every time we went ’round and ’round about himfooting the bill?
I know my father. I’d sooner get my mother todye her hair pink than have my father spill the beans. I could askDon Di Caro, but he’d stonewall or deflect. He’s never lied to me,but there’ve been plenty of times I didn’t get a straight answerout of him.