“Golf,” Gerald said like it was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard.Brigitte’s smile was sharp enough to cut ice.Maybe Gerald felt some of it, because he added grudgingly, “I used to ski, but I’ve got a bum leg now.”
“What do you do to keep busy?”Jem asked.
“Gerald does coaching now,” Brigitte said.The color was back in her cheeks, along with that same razor-sharp smile, and she was doing something with her eyes that must have meant something to Gerald because he grunted.
“Life coaching?”Jem asked.“Executive coaching?”
And because Tean knew Jem and because he loved him and because he had once walked in on Jem practicing a life coaching session with Scipio and then been forced to throw away the business cards Jem had already ordered, he recognized that tone ashey, this might come in handy.
It took Tean a moment to recognize the twist to Gerald’s mouth as a smile.“A little bit of everything.”And before Jem could follow up on that, he said, “Brigitte says you work in a call center.”
Jem nodded.“Yeah, for now.”
“What does that mean, for now?You’ve got something else lined up?”
“Jem’s still figuring out what he wants to do,” Tean said.
“Figuring out what he wants to do?How old are you, son?Thirty?”
Red sparked in Jem’s cheeks, and nobody had to tell Tean that for Jem, who was maybe the soul of happiness and easygoing kindness and who was one of the most capable people Tean had ever met at dissimulating his own emotions, that wordsonhad been like a match to kerosene.
“Twenty-nine,” he said with a tight smile.
“Well, what are you doing with your life?You’re running out of time.”
“Gerald,” Brigitte said with that same laugh.
“What’d you study in school?”
Tean couldn’t help himself; he shot a sharp glance at Gerald, and then at Brigitte.The color ran down into Brigitte’s neck now.
“I actually didn’t go to college,” Jem said.He kept his gaze locked on Gerald.
“But you learned a trade,” Gerald said.“What have you been doing since you graduated high school?”
The smile was still somehow there on Jem’s face.“Oh, you know.Dinky jobs.Kind of finding myself.”
“Finding yourself,” Gerald said like he’d picked up a bug.
“Gerald,” Brigitte said.“Let’s talk about something else.”
“Like, what?Working at Walmart?”
“Stuff like that,” Jem said.“Yeah.”And then, because he was Jem and there was this part of him, Tean knew, that went absolutely feral in situations like this, he said, “You know my favorite job?Night manager at McDonald’s.Have you ever had their breakfast burrito?”
Gerald sat back heavily, like this was too much, like he had to give up.But a moment later, he was saying, “Son—”
“Jem.”And there was no mistaking the correction.Or the tension that was finally laid bare.
If Gerald heard it, though, it didn’t stop him.“I don’t understand.You’re wasting your life.This is the time you’ve got to be working hard.Investing in yourself.Life is an investment, you see?You sock away hard work and time right now, and then you get to enjoy the fruits of your labor later.What are you going to do in five years?In ten?What’s your plan?”
“I mostly make it up as I go along.”The smile again.“I call it riffing.”
Shaking his head, Gerald said, “What about a family?Didn’t you ever think about having a family of your own?”
Jem didn’t even glance at Tean; his face was fixed in that pleasant mask.“Tean and I haven’t talked about that yet.”
For a moment, Gerald’s eyes were empty, as though he hadn’t understood.Then he made the same gesture he’d made to the waiter—like whatever issue had been raised, it wasn’t even worth addressing.“I mean getting married.Having children of your own.”
