I left my roommates and simply said I was moving out. Then, I gave my old Jeep to Shirly, the homeless lady in my neighborhood. I stuck twenty grand with a note in the glove compartment for her. I hope she’s doing all right. She was always so nice.
Since my family was there when I found out, I couldn’t keep the secret from them, thank goodness. So with the help of my lawyers, I set them each up with two million dollars and a trust for two million more when everyone turns forty-five. Dad got the full four million right out the gate and officially retired from his corporate engineering job last week.
After begging and pleading, Rafael and Joaquín let me tell their moms about my windfall. Christina and Ana basically raised me. When I tried to set them up with money, they flat-out refused. I kept trying, but Joaquín said his mamá is too proud.
I’m gonna keep trying though. What else am I supposed to do with all this money? My lawyers told me I couldn’t just have a lump sum sitting in a bank account. It’s all like, invested now. I only get a certain amount each month, and I have to ask my finance guy before taking out anything over twenty grand. And no one liked my idea about getting a yacht! Where’s everyone’s sense of fun and adventure?
On the other hand, I’ve been thinking about that ten grand in casino chips I found in a Vegas cab a few years ago—the ten grand I blew in less than six months. I didn’t spend it on bills or tuition or anything meaningful. The sad reality is, I don’t even know what I spent it on. I don’t wantto make that same mistake again, so I’m listening to those smarter than me. Trying to at least. It’s a struggle to find the balance between having fun with my money and not living up to my reputation as a fuckup.
I quit my job at Strip Tease, not because I wanted to, but because I had to. It was too hard to keep my winnings a secret. I almost spilled the beans about a dozen times. Returning to work was different; not only did I have a massive secret, but every time I entered that private room or even walked past it, I remembered Professor Wilde.
I still have her panties—and they look so good wrapped around my hand when I stroke myself to the thought of her.
For the past few months I’ve been inundated with legal jargon and real estate stuff that I still don’t understand—all of it making me feel like I'm in over my head. I’ve been so busy with meetings that I haven’t been able to find her. She said to pretend what we did never happened, but I can’t.
“This is incredible, Jonah,” Joaquín says as he exits his own car and parks next to all the others. The warm summer breeze dances through his long, dark curls, he takes a deep breath of the invigorating, fresh country air.
Joaquín lives in DC and splits his time between there and Philly. He’s a project manager for the company he runs with Rafael. They own, renovate, and lease apartments and homes. He’s always busy, but he’s never too busy for me.
We’re both free spirits, he and I. He’s a lot more calculated and was always the one helping me pass my classes, but he’s always down for an adventure and can shift gears on a dime. Even with hundreds of miles between us, we’re still in sync with each other. Ang is the same way with Raf. It must be a Johanssen/Jimenez thing. We were inseparable growing up, and nothing changed after Joaquín came out as trans—we still went together like peanut butter and jelly.
My whole family is already inside my new house helping set things up. My sisters are going from room to roomtalking about paint colors. Dad is poking around in the utility room and inspecting the hot water heater. But no one has entered my secret room yet, and I’m itching to show it off.
I gather everyone and take them to the finished basement with a smile a mile wide. With my hand on the door handle, I turn around to speak as everyone waits. “I know you all said I had to be smart with my money and not spend it all willy-nilly, but...”
“Jonah,” Raf says. “What did you do?”
“You wouldn’t let me get a yacht, so what else am I supposed to do out here all by myself?” I fling open the frosted glass door to reveal a soundproof room filled with instruments: my old drums with some fresh additions, a keyboard, bass, violin, and trumpet, electric and acoustic guitars, microphones, amps, the works.
With a surprised “Whoa,” Joaquín jumps past everyone, eager to get to the keyboard. “This is awesome!”
I scramble for my stool behind the drums and throw my hands out. “C’mon, Raf. You can’t be mad. I already owned half of this. I just filled in the missing pieces.” Even Dane and Isaiah are cracking smiles when they each find their respective instruments.
Raf stares at me. “You didnothave an entire recording studio, and this house wasnotlisted with one.”
Joaquín plays the opening from "Get Down On It” by Kool & The Gang, and my brothers and I follow suit.
“See it as an investment in my happiness,” I beam. I get lost in the music and silence Rafael with the funkiest beat. Nico squirms in his arms, and Raf just shakes his head before—there it is—a dimple forms in his cheek when his lips curl. Got him! He sets his son down, and his daughter’s already clapping along—terribly, I might add. I’ll have to work on that with her.
Rafael takes a deep breath and glances at Angie, who’salready in the groove. Ivy dances with our baby nephew in her arms.
“Fine,” Raf chuckles between verses. “This was a good idea.”
Damn right it was. Music’s in my blood. All of us Johanssen kids inherited some kind of musical gift from our mom, God rest her soul. Angie played the violin in the school orchestra with Rafael. Ivy’s singing voice can bring me to tears. And Zay, Dane, Joaquín, and I started our family band, Agony Nectar, before I even hit junior high. We played mostly rock and punk, but I’ve always been a sucker for anything with a good beat. I can hear a song once or twice and match it note for note. It’s a gift—what can I say?
We play a few more songs, including an Agony Nectar original called "Stab Me," where Dane lays out some of his best emo lyrics. Joaquín and I take the rest of the family on a walk around the grounds while the dogs explore. It doesn’t take them long to find the ducks and goats, and Dane, being the vet that he is, starts training the dogs as we go. I guess everyone was right; they really were meant for a country life like this.
When we get back to the house, I notice a woman walking across the street with two young kids, each holding something. When they get closer and step onto my driveway, I walk toward them as the rest of my family heads into the house.
The woman is wearing jeans and a T-shirt, her hair pulled back in a ponytail except for the long curtain-like bangs framing her face. All at once I register her striking red mane and the curves of the woman I’ve been spanking it to since college.
Professor Wilde is standing inmydriveway.
When she realizes who I am, she stops in her tracks and forces the two young girls on either side of her to stop as well.
“What are you doing here?” she asks.
“I live here. I just bought this house.”
