February 2025 #4
“Are you drunk?” I asked him.
“No,” he said, lobbing a nut at Duncan, who caught it in his mouth like a trained seal. I glanced at the floor, assuming there had to be all the ones he’d missed while they practiced this weird act of theirs. But no, nothing.
“What is going on?” Aja chuckled as Sam put an arm around her and hauled her up against his side.
“These things are always horrible,” Duncan said flatly. “I hate them, you all hate them, but we’re here to support Aaron.”
“This is not supporting Aaron,” I advised him. “To stand around in our nice clothes, that is supporting Aaron.”
“Agreed,” Aja said, trying not to smile as Sam flagged down a waiter to bring her a White Russian and me a pina colada. “Sam Kage, I have not had a White Russian since college.”
“I think that’s been the same for me with a pina colada,” I apprised him. “What’s gotten into you?”
His smile was gorgeous, with the curl of his lip and the glint in his eyes.
“I mentioned the last time that these things should be far more casual and thus much more fun,” Duncan informed me. “So this is just an experiment to see if Aaron can get the same networking done, for him and others, without the formality.”
“I don’t know,” I said as the waiter returned with my frothy mixed drink. Just smelling it brought back memories of dancing in clubs until two in the morning.
“And no one ever eats anything,” Duncan pointed out. “We have all this food catered and end up having it all delivered to the closest homeless shelter.”
“That’s a good thing.”
“Yes, but Aaron already donates food that is designed by a nutritionist to every shelter in the city on a regular basis. This feast is not at all high in antioxidants, all the food groups are not represented, and it’s high in fat content. It’s all very bad for you.”
“Good,” Dane announced as he left us for the buffet that was set up in the dining room.
“Is there steak?” Sam asked, giving Aja a squeeze before letting her go, taking hold of Duncan’s bicep and tugging on him a moment to get him to move.
“Was there drinking at Hannah and the boys’ place I didn’t see?”
“Apparently so,” I said, walking along behind them.
It was like one of the restaurants in Vegas Sam and I had been to the last time we were there, food elaborately presented under mood lighting where the plates were endless and everything looked amazing.
“Oh who cares, let’s eat,” I told Aja.
Normally, neither of us ate. We stood around, we sipped things, we were exceedingly polite and were both ready to speak when Aaron dragged someone over to talk to us or brought us over to talk to them.
She spoke on education and what was needed for the future.
The last time he had her chatting with one alderman after another.
He had me talk about all the different brands under the Sutter umbrella, and how grateful I was to work with the amazing people at the company.
Duncan and Sam talked about the duty of law enforcement in these changing times, and Dane, of course, about the cultural importance of architecture and what it said about the city.
It was a snore.
And apparently Duncan was sick of it. He was tired of us having to get a bite to eat at our favorite diner on the way home because we were all starving.
He had taken the menu out of the hands of the people who normally planned and executed dinners at Chez Sutter and did it himself.
“I love tri-tip,” Sam said with a sigh as he filled his plate and passed up mashed potatoes for sweet potato fries sliced thin and Caesar salad.
“None of these things go together, you get that, right?” Aja asked Duncan.
“Yeah, but lamb with mint jelly and whatever the hell else is gross. We shouldn’t be eating babies at all. Of anything.”
“Veal is disgusting,” Dane chimed in. “It should not be eaten.”
“A hundred percent agree,” Duncan told him. “Look, I ordered the yummy yeast rolls.”
When we all went to sit down in the living room, people around us who were having serious conversations started inhaling the air.
“Is that pulled pork?” a woman asked me. She looked utterly exhausted.
“Yes.” I smiled back. “And there’s brisket too, and potato salad and coleslaw.”
She whimpered.
“It’s been a long week. Go get some barbecue.”
Glancing around, she had no idea what to do with her glass of white wine.
“Put it next to my pina colada, I’ll keep an eye on it for you.”
“Thank you, um…”
“Jory. Jory Harcourt. And you are?”
“Pam Dumont. I write for the Times.”
“That’s awesome. Come back and tell me all about it.”
“I will,” she said, beaming at me.
Aja had Douglas Hemmings, who ran a nonprofit that taught ESL at youth centers, and Brenda Cooley, assistant to the mayor, chatting with her about secondary education in private schools. The thing was, they all started talking originally because Doug had an awesome phone case that Aja asked about.
Dane talked to a man about an initiative for the wetlands, and a gorgeous textile heiress who wanted to start her philanthropic journey.
The heiress asked what Dane had bought for his wife—she saw the ring—for Valentine’s Day, and he went into his rant about the absurdity of the day.
She agreed, and the wetlands guy was thrilled to find like-minded individuals.
Sam explained to several guests that the marshals service in Chicago was there for Chicago and all of its people. They would stand with their state, their city, their governor and the mayor. As far as I could tell, everyone appreciated hearing that.
Duncan walked people that he met over to Aaron, and I watched my friend stare at his husband in surprise and happily be introduced.
Jackets came off, people sat with napkins on their laps under plates, and glasses cluttered end tables and coffee tables. Everyone held a plate for someone else, helped carry, and scooted over to make room. There was a lot of bonding going on. I collected many phone numbers and gave out mine.
Several women were chatting about their husbands, and as I always liked to hear anyone gush about their partner, I joined in.
They all had their phones out, showing off how gorgeous their guys were. There were lots of hot men in suits, more than a few in tight jeans with shirts barely buttoned.
“Sorry,” I said, grinning crazily, “but I’ve got you all beat.”
“There’s no way,” a gorgeous blonde told me, and I had to admit, her husband looked great up on a horse with a cowboy hat on, smiling rakishly at her.
I turned my phone around to her and the others, and there was Sam Kage, leaving the house two days earlier, for a morning raid to arrest drug smugglers with the DEA.
He had on a pair of cargo pants that hugged his ass, a long-sleeve shirt stretched tight across his wide chest hugging his thick biceps.
The star was hanging in the middle of his chest, his aviators were on, his baseball cap on backwards, and the thigh holster was on his right leg, that, in the video, he was sliding the gun into.
When he turned and saw me, suddenly there was the aw-shucks smile.
“Oh…wow,” the blonde barely got out.
“I love that as soon as he saw you, he went from Superman to big softie,” Aja said with a sigh. “But I have maintained from the start that your man is fine.”
“Is he…here?” another woman asked with a little squeak at the end.
I pointed him out, called his name, and they all waved with me. His grin was wide when he returned the gesture.
Later, there was a totally improvised game of charades in the living room that Dane and Duncan picked teams for. Aaron looked a bit nonplused but also, very happy. It was, all in all, the best dinner—with strangers—that was ever held at Duncan and Aaron’s.
As the party was winding down, I went to take Sam a slice of pecan pie with ice cream, but he didn’t want that.
What he did want was me, sitting beside him, head on his chest, arm around me, as he talked to Duncan.
He rubbed his chin in my hair, snuggled me in tighter, and listened.
As I looked around, I noticed how many people I had spoken to in the course of a single remarkable evening, who were smiling over at me now.
I forgot sometimes that I needed to be more open.
Not just with my neighbors and the people I worked with and saw every day, but with strangers.
Especially at the moment, in this time, a community was what was going to keep us all sane.
People looking out for other people. Helping hands were so necessary, and not just for the big things, but for the little things as well.
Building and connecting with others was vitally important.
And yes, it was inconvenient at times, because didn’t we all just want to stay home and watch Netflix?
But in the end, it was so very worth it to put yourself out there.
When everyone else left, Aaron thanked us all. I enjoyed watching both Dane and Sam give him a hug.
When we got home, Sam went upstairs, and I remembered I had to send some quick emails.
One of them, I had to wait for a response back before I could shoot it off to the printer.
I hit my playlist on my computer, and “Love Train” by the O’Jays came on.
I was dancing around the kitchen when I did a quick spin and noticed my husband with his phone out.
“What are you doing?”
“I have a ton of these of you dancing. I play them whenever I need a little happy during the day.”
“You do?”
He chuckled. “You think you’re the only one who has a husband they’re crazy about?”
“How do you know I’m crazy about you?”
“Oh I dunno, could be how often I catch you staring.”
I nodded. “Yeah. That could be it.”
“C’mere.”
I got to end my night being twirled around my kitchen by the man I loved. Now that was a good Valentine’s Day.
Have a wonderful rest of February, all. I’ll see you in March.