Chapter 4 #2
“That’s my full name. But I like my friends to call me Jem. What’s your name?”
“Milo.”
“Shake his hand,” Gerald barked.
After a moment, the boy did. Then Jem let out a yelp and twisted in his seat. “Help! Help! He’s too strong!”
Giggling, the boy doubled-down on the shake, wringing Jem’s hand. He bumped the table. Glasses rocked. Silverware clattered. Gerald’s breathing got heavier, and Brigitte got halfway to her feet and in a voice starting to shrill, said, “Okay, boys, that’s enough!”
The light in Milo’s face died, and he sank back into his seat.
“Hi,” Jem said to the girl, offering her his hand as well. “I’m Jem.”
“I’m Maeve.”
“That’s a pretty name. I’ve never heard that before. Tean has a cool name too—this is Tean.”
Maeve waved at him from across the table, and Tean waved back.
“Is he your boyfriend?” Milo asked.
“Milo,” Brigitte snapped. The color was high in her cheeks. She did that nervous laugh again. “I’m sorry—”
“You don’t need to be sorry,” Jem said, and although the friendliness was still there, it was wearing thin. “Yes, Tean’s my boyfriend.”
Milo laughed like this was hilarious. Maeve’s eyes got huge.
“Sit up straight,” Gerald said to Milo. “You’re making a scene.”
Milo quieted.
Everyone quieted.
Fortunately, at that point, the waiter came to ask about drinks. Jem got Diet Coke. Tean asked for water. When the waiter asked about appetizers, Gerald waved the question away like it wasn’t worth answering, and the waiter retreated.
Silence dropped over the table again.
Jem, of course, was the first one to speak. “Gerald, what line of work are you in?”
“Gerald’s retired,” Brigitte said. “He worked in consulting.”
“Tell me you play golf,” Jem said with a grin.
“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 as hey, 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 word son had 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.”
When the realization came, Tean had to fight a giggle that he thought might be the start of a nervous breakdown.
Because what Gerald really meant—what he apparently thought was so obvious that he didn’t even have to say it—was marry a woman.
And that gesture, the one he’d made, was his indication that Tean would eventually be removed by some heavenly waiter, like an inconvenient hors d’oeuvres.
To judge by Jem’s blank expression, the realization still hadn’t landed for him.
“Children,” Brigitte said. “Why don’t you go play in the arcade? Buy yourself a grilled cheese.”
Milo was out of his chair so fast, Tean was surprised it didn’t turn over. Maeve followed more slowly, casting backward glances.
“There’s a lovely arcade,” Brigitte chirped. “They have so much fun. Much better than all this stuffiness.”
“See, that’s the problem,” Gerald said as though Brigitte hadn’t spoken. “That’s why you always need money.”
“I don’t need money—” Jem said.
“I told your mother, you’re not doing him any favors.
I told you that, didn’t I?” He turned to Brigitte but didn’t wait for an answer.
“That’s the problem with charity. It doesn’t fix the underlying problem.
And the underlying problem is that you’re a bum.
This is why a man should always be in charge of the finances. ”
Jem gave a dead grin. Tean wanted to close his eyes.
“No more blank checks,” Gerald said. “If you need money, I’ve got some chores around the house. You can earn it.”
“Excuse me,” Tean said, “but you have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“We’re having a conversation here,” Gerald said. He drew a circle around himself, Brigitte, and Jem. “The family—”
The room began to shrink around Tean again.
His chest tightened. The rush of white noise in his ears turned all the way up.
But somehow, his voice sounded level, almost calm, as he said, “It’s obvious that Brigitte hasn’t told you anything about Jem’s life—” Jem’s fingers bit into his knee again, but Tean kept going.
“—or about what he’s been through, how hard he’s worked—”
“Tean,” Jem said.
“—and how amazing he is as a person—”
“You don’t need to—”
“—and how everything he has, he’s had to earn on his own—”
“Tean, enough!” Jem’s volume was only slightly lower when he added, “Just stop talking.”
Tean tried to swallow, but he couldn’t. His leg didn’t hurt until Jem eased stiff fingers away and drew his hand back.
“Look,” Jem said. “I get it. It’s not easy having somebody’s child dropped into your life.
I’m sorry the money—” He stopped and shook his head.
“But I’m not looking for handouts. I don’t want anything from you.
I’m here because—” His gaze shifted to Brigitte.
“—you asked me to be here. That’s it. That’s all.
So, we can enjoy a nice meal and get to know each other, if that’s what you want.
Or if this is too much, then no harm, no foul.
Tean and I will go, and we can try again another time. ”
“No, Jeremiah, that’s not what—”
“Son,” Gerald said, and Tean recognized the tone because he’d had to hear it for twenty years, give or take. The patience. The indulgence. The saccharine confidence. “We’re a family. Of course we want to help you. We’re going to help you with more than money.”
For a moment, the nervous energy of Brigitte’s face collapsed, and it was like looking into a dark place, a dropping away into nothing.
Jem laughed. Scratched an eyebrow. “Uh, okay. How’s that?”
“Help you put away these deviant urges,” Gerald said. He was smiling now—a real smile. “Help you be a real man.”