“Really? Damn, he looks older. Must be all the time he spends in the gym.” I stopped in my tracks, gaping at my younger brother. Had he really just said that? Was it possible I wasn’t the only Marino who didn’t score a zero on the Kinsey Scale? Tony spun around when he realized I was no longer following him. “What? I’m not blind. The kid’s hot.”
“If you say so.” I shook my head, filing that little revelation away for future conversation. I’d always seen Tony with girls, so it’d never occurred to me that he could be attracted to guys as well. “I’m grabbing dinner because they’re getting back into town late and I figured it’d be the friendly thing to do to have something ready when they get home.”
“And we all know your cooking skills aren’t quite up to box mac and cheese level,” Tony teased.Scorch the noodles to the bottom of the panonetime…“Good call having Freddie’s crew handle the cooking. You think you’ll be able to heat it up without the fire department joining this little welcome home celebration?”
“I’ll have you know my skills have improved since I was twelve,” I quipped, watching over Tony’s shoulder as he rang in not only a pan of the lasagna, but also a salad, garlic bread, and the cannoli.
“Whatever you say, big brother.” He put the order through and I handed him my credit card. Thank God for the employee discount, because the total was enough to make my ass pucker. I made a mental note to add that to the things we talked about when the three eldest brothers sat down later in the week. It felt wrong to leave Enzo and Matteo out since this was supposed to be a family business, but Enzo had never shown an interest in anything other than being a line cook and Teo was still overwhelmed trying to learn the ropes. Eventually, it’d be nice to get both of them more comfortable sharing their input. “I put a note on there to wrap everything up with directions for heating. You’d better hope Mama doesn’t see you picking up the order or she’ll be up your ass wanting to know who the special girl is.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me.” It’d been a while since Mama last got on my case about settling down with a nice girl to start a family of my own. She loved reminding me that she’d already had both me and Freddie before she was my age. That was well and good, but even if I wasn’t gay, I didn’t think I’d have felt any differently about kids. Meaning they were awesome as long as I could spend time with them and hand them off to someone else.
“You know, there’s an easy way to get her off your back for good,” Tony pointed out. I rolled my eyes, knowing what he was about to suggest. No way in hell was I ready for that fight with Mama. As far as Italian Catholic women went, she was pretty progressive. She didn’t go on rants about how the gays were leading to the downfall of Christian marriage or preach to them about eternal damnation, but I doubted that grace extended to finding out one of her own kids was gay.
“Eventually,” I told him, because if I ever met a man I wanted to build a life with, I wouldn’t hide that from Mama.Thatis something she’d never forgive. “Right now, I want some time to focus on me. When the time’s right, I promise I’ll tell her.”
Tony grabbed me by the shoulders, turning me to face him. His expression was solemn. “Don’t wait too long, Frankie. Remember tomorrow is never guaranteed.”
I knew he was thinking about how suddenly Papa died. We’d all thought he was healthy for a man his age. We pushed him to take Mama on the vacations they’d always dreamed of after he signed control of the restaurant over to me. I was sure the airline tickets for the trip we’d given them for their twenty-fifth anniversary were still sitting in the top drawer of Mama’s dresser. The man who we’d all thought infallible had a massive heart attack less than a week before they were scheduled to leave.
“I won’t,” I promised. “I just need a little time. It’s messing with my mind that you know and you’re being so cool, but I’m not dumb enough to think everyone’s going to react the way you did.”
“You might be surprised.” He gathered me into a one-arm hug and thumped me on the back before heading to the dining room to get ready for the dinner rush. I watched him walk away, thinking about how little credit I’d given Tony over the years.
7
Calvin
As soon asI opened the front door, the scent of garlic and oregano filled my nostrils. I dropped my suitcase and kicked off my shoes, anxious to thank Frankie for ordering ahead. We’d hit insane traffic on the way home, probably from everyone trying to get in one last vacation before the end of summer, and the drive took nearly double the time it should have. I was mentally exhausted and every bone in my body reminded me I was on the wrong side of forty.
“Smells awesome in here, Dad.” Ryan shoved past me, heading for the kitchen. He’d been begging me to stop for the last hour of the drive, insisting he was starving. I’d almost caved a few times, but I irrationally believed the traffic would be worse if I exited the freeway and got back on after a pit stop.
“Shower first,” I called out. If I hadn’t been so anxious to get home, I’d have made the kid shower at the rink. Few things were more unpleasant than hours in a car with a sweaty teen and his rank hockey gear. I doubted I’d ever get the stench out of my upholstery.
Once I heard the bathroom door slam and the water turn on, I made my way into the kitchen. Frankie was dancing around the room, earbuds stuffed in his ears, which explained why he hadn’t heard the commotion when we’d come in. It amazed me how much more at ease he seemed in the past week.
When he bent over to reach into the oven, the last thread of my restraint snapped. I’d worked so hard all week to keep my hands to myself, but knowing he’d gone out of his way to have dinner ready when we got home was a gesture that deserved to be rewarded. I leaned against the door jamb, watching him until the pan was safely on the stovetop, then stepped behind him. He jumped when I placed a hand on his hip, spinning around to look up at me. I pulled out one of his earbuds and allowed my hand to rest against the side of his neck.
Frankie leaned into me, his eyes fluttering, silently begging me to kiss him. But I wouldn’t. Not yet. “You did this for us?”
“Thought it’d be better than pizza,” he responded, as if it was nothing special. He nodded to the Marino’s bag on the counter. “I grabbed it from the restaurant, so it’s not like I raced home and put everything together from scratch.”
“True, but it’s not who assembled the meal that matters.” I wouldn’t allow myself to taste his lips, but I did close the distance between us to brush my lips across his cheek. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Frankie’s cheeks darkened. It seemed he wasn’t accustomed to accepting praise. That was a foreign concept to me, because he always spoke highly of his family. It seemed to me his parents would’ve been the type to shower their children with love and compliments. “The lasagna needs to rest for a bit and I just put the garlic bread into the oven. Where’s Ryan?”
He tentatively placed his hand on my hip, pulling back when he realized he’d moved close enough our groins were nearly touching. I tightened my grip on him, holding him close to me. The contact was killing me since I couldn’t take things further with Ryan in the house and awake, but we’d been tap dancing around one another all week. Having him close felt good. More terrifying was that it felt right. Like he was always supposed to be there and now that he was, life could move forward.
“He’s grabbing a shower. Believe me, it’s for the best.”
Frankie laughed, fine lines forming at the corners of his eyes. He was too damn young for laugh lines or any other signs of aging. “Freddie played football and I played lacrosse, so I totally understand. I’m not sure how you put up with being in the same car as him. Most weeks, Papa was cursing up a blue streak by the time we could drive ten minutes home from our games.”
“Yeah, well we all make sacrifices for those we love,” I told him. The bathroom door opened, and I jumped back instinctively. It wasn’t that I was ashamed of following my desires, but if things between Frankie and me fizzled out, I didn’t want Ryan to feel as if he had to hate Frankie for my sake. The two of them had gotten along the first time they met, not quite friends, more like Frankie served as a bridge between me and my son.
Dinner was pleasant. Ryan thanked Frankie profusely around mouthfuls of pasta and bread. Frankie talked about the solution he and his brother had come up with so he wasn’t at the restaurant seven days a week. I was proud of him for taking that initiative and selfishly hoped the simple messages we’d been exchanging throughout the week had helped him realize it was okay to put himself first sometimes.
After dinner, we all moved from the bistro table in the kitchen to the living room. Before I could get myself a drink and settle into my chair, Ryan had made himself comfortable. I smacked his feet, which were draped over one of the arms of the chair. “If you wanted to stretch out, you should’ve taken the couch.”
“That wouldn’t have left anywhere for Frankie to sit,” he explained. “And I’m pretty sure putting my feet up on his lap would be crossing all sorts of dude boundaries.”
