Chapter 9
Armando
At the end of July, my son and his husband finally returned from Europe. They’d ended up extending their honeymoon by several weeks, because they were having such a good time. The day after he got back, he told me all about it on a video call.
When he finished, I said, “I’m so glad you had fun.”
“I really did. The best part was getting to share it all with my husband.” Kit grinned. “I love saying that. My husband. Devon thinks it’s funny, because I go out of my way to use that word. Like, hey, husband, pass the butter.”
I chuckled and adjusted my phone. It was propped up against a coffee mug on the desk in my office. “I think I’m still processing the fact that my baby boy is married.”
“That’s because a part of you still thinks of me as like, twelve years old.”
“Maybe.”
“Oh, hey, I meant to ask. Did you get the link I sent you to that online album? Devon and I uploaded a ton of photos from our trip, and even though we haven’t organized or labeled anything yet, I thought you’d enjoy seeing them.”
“Yeah, I’m looking through it right now.
You went to some fascinating places.” I scrolled through about fifty pictures of the Colosseum.
Of course, they automatically made me think of Tory, and everything he’d told me about growing up near that landmark.
“Thanks for the postcards, by the way. I brought them to work so I could show everyone.” I picked up the phone and pointed it at the trio of postcards I’d taped to the wall behind my desk.
“There are a couple more coming,” he said. “I guess the mail’s kind of slow.”
I heard some footsteps in the background, followed by Vee’s voice. “Hey, Kit. Where’s your hubby?”
“He’s still asleep,” Kit told him. “The jet lag is kicking his butt.”
Vee asked, “Are you talking to your dad?” When Kit nodded, he said, “Let me talk to him for a minute.” My son handed the phone to his housemate, who appeared on my screen and exclaimed, “Hey, Manny! I’ve been meaning to text you. How did it go with that guy you were seeing?”
My son sounded confused. “What guy?”
Vee’s dark eyes went wide. “Oh no! Did I spill a secret? I’m so sorry. I thought you and Kit told each other everything.”
“It’s not a secret,” I said. “I just hadn’t gotten around to telling him yet.”
Kit took the phone from his housemate and asked, “Are you dating someone?”
“Yeah. His name’s Tory. I met him the night of your wedding.”
He looked surprised. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I was going to, but first I wanted to hear about your honeymoon.”
“This is wild. I mean, I knew you were bisexual. But as far as I know, you’ve never dated a man before, right? Actually, you’ve barely dated at all, my whole life, so the fact that you’ve been seeing someone for two months is a big deal.”
“It’s been great, but we both agreed to keep it light when we started.” Okay, so it had become a lot more intense than either of us had probably bargained for, but I didn’t want to try to explain that to my son—not when I hadn’t even sorted it out for myself.
“Did he tell you he’s not interested in a relationship? Because that can be a red flag. A lot of men are only interested in sex, so—”
“It’s not that. I’m busy with the diner, and he’s new to the US and not sure where he’ll end up long-term, so we’re just taking it day by day.”
“What does he do for work?”
“He’s between jobs right now.”
My son frowned and said, “He sounds sketchy. Please tell me you haven’t given him any money.”
“He’s got plenty of money. He doesn’t even let me pay for anything when we go out.”
Kit was still frowning. “Did you meet him online? There are a lot of con men on the internet, and this could be how he’s setting you up, by pretending he has money and—”
“No, I met him at the hotel where you got married, and you’ve got this all wrong. Even if he was a con man, which he’s not, those people prey on wealthy widows or divorcees, not broke diner owners.”
“What’s this guy’s full name?”
“Salvatore di Pietro.”
“Is di Pietro one word or two?”
“I assume it’s two.”
Kit sounded frustrated. “You assume?”
“I never asked him to spell it for me.”
Kit sighed before turning to his left and saying, “Try googling it as two words, Vee. If that doesn’t work, try one.” I hadn’t realized his housemate was still in the room.
I asked, “Why are you googling him?”
“Because that’s what you do in this day and age, Dad.”
“Okay, but there’s nothing to worry about. I trust him.”
“Yeah, but you trust everyone.” Vee said something I didn’t catch, and Kit told me, “We just tried searching him with a bunch of different spellings of his name, and he didn’t come up. That’s suspicious right there.”
“It’s really not.”
“Is he on Instagram?”
“How would I know? I don’t use social media,” I said.
The frown line between my son’s brows was so deep that it looked like it might become permanent. “What exactly do you know about this guy?”
“I know he’s kind, and incredibly generous.
He’s taken me on the most amazing dates.
One weekend, we went to one of those stunt driving schools.
Another time, he took me rock climbing. That was a bust because it’s way harder than it looks, but it was fun to try.
Two weeks ago, we took a sailing lesson.
And last weekend, we stayed at an incredible resort on Catalina Island and went horseback riding. He treats me like a prince.”
“That all sounds fun, but—”
“He’s good for me in so many ways, Kit. You know how you’re always telling me I work too much? With Tory’s encouragement, I hired Javier’s cousin Cami part time as a second assistant manager. I also hired a bookkeeper, which is going to save me a ton of time. Now I can take every weekend off.”
“So you and this guy can be together?”
“So I can have a life for a change.”
“I’m glad you’re cutting back your hours,” Kit said. “That’s something you needed to do for a long time.”
The frown line was still there though, so I asked, “Was I like this when you were dating? Because you’re surprisingly overprotective.”
“You were way worse. For one thing, you always insisted on meeting the guys I dated.”
“You’re right, I did. But you never listened to me if I told you I didn’t like them.”
“Yeah, I guess I didn’t,” he conceded. “You probably won’t listen to me either, but I’d feel better if I got to meet this guy.”
“We can do that. Tory has some relatives in San Francisco, and he mentioned taking me with him when he goes for a visit.”
“When will that be?”
“Sometime in August. We still need to pin down a date.”
“Okay, good.” Kit’s expression softened, and he said, “I’m sorry if I seem negative. I really am happy that you’ve decided to start dating, but I can’t help but worry about you, Dad. You don’t have a lot of experience with this type of thing, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I’ll be fine, I promise. I’m not as na?ve as you seem to think I am.”
“I never said you were na?ve.”
No, but it was definitely implied. I said, “I’d better go, so I can finish my paperwork. But I’ll talk to you soon, and I’ll let you know about that visit.”
Vee stuck his head in the frame and asked, “Quick question. How’s the sex?”
Kit looked shocked. “Did you really just ask my Dad that?”
He turned to my son and explained, “I sent a bunch of stuff from the health center with Manny when he was here, so I’m just following up.”
“What kind of stuff?”
“Lube, pamphlets, that kind of thing, since this was going to be his first time doing it with a man.”
Kit muttered, “I hadn’t thought of that.” Then he asked me, “Are you being safe? You know condoms are important, right?”
“I’m hanging up now.”
Once we said goodbye and ended the call, I leaned back in my office chair and sighed.
Sometimes it seemed like Kit parented me as much as I parented him.
Maybe that was to be expected, since I’d been such a young dad—he and I basically grew up together.
I just wished he didn’t worry about me so much.
And there really was no reason to worry about Tory. I might not know everything about him, but I knew for a fact that he was a good person. He was sweet and considerate, and he’d never hurt me. He just wouldn’t.
He was incredibly patient, too. Even after almost two months, we still hadn’t fucked, because I hadn’t felt like I was ready.
But he never pressured me. Last time I brought it up, he’d told me, “Please don’t worry about it, Arie.
You’ll know when you’re ready. And if you decide you don’t want to take it that far, that’s fine, too.
I love what we have, so nothing has to change if you don’t want it to. ”
I missed him, so I sent him a text that said: Thinking of you. A video call appeared on my screen less than a minute later. When I answered, Tory smiled and said, “Ciao, bello. I was thinking about you, too.”
“Yeah? What were you thinking about?”
“Your lips. Your eyes. The fact that it’s only Wednesday, and the weekend is very far away.”
“There’s no rule that says we can only see each other on weekends,” I pointed out. “You could come here today if you wanted to. Although it might be boring for you, because I need to be here until closing.”
“Would it really be okay with you if I drove down and hung out at the diner?”
“More than okay. I’d love it.”
“Then text me the diner’s address, and I’ll be there this afternoon.”
I sent the address after we ended the call, and then I got up and wandered out of my office. The breakfast rush had ended, so the cook was keeping busy by restocking the kitchen for lunch service.
In the dining room, Myra was sitting behind the counter reading a gossip magazine.
She’d worked here as a waitress for decades, and even though she had to be in her seventies, she refused to retire.
She wore her bright red hair in a stiff, puffy helmet, and she was never without her blue eye shadow, which matched the polyester uniform she insisted on, no matter how many times I told her she could wear whatever she wanted.