Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Eight
“We’ll probably head out before you get up tomorrow,” Matt said, opening one of the bottles he’d brought from their wine cellar in Houston.
“Actually, if Jake isn’t too beat,” Rakell replied, glancing at her phone, “we may get up early to run at Town Lake. The weather is perfect, and I hate to let it go to waste. But he and Dwayne aren’t flying in until 11, so I might just let him sleep.”
Jonathon flashed her a droll look. “I have a feeling that since you two don’t get to see each other very often, there won’t be a lot of sleeping going on.”
She winked at him. “I’m hoping to get to Sacramento more next month. The Condors are playing three games at home, so I’m going to take advantage of Southwest’s direct flights, even if it's just for a night.”
“I think that’s good,” Matt said.
She watched Jonathan pour himself a nice glass, probably about 10 ounces, and stated, “I don’t think a relationship can survive without plenty of skin contact. Isn’t that right, Matthew?”
“That is right, Jonathan,” Matt replied, amusement tinged in his exasperated voice.
Rakell extended her glass toward Jonathon, gesturing for him to top it off. “Matt, Texas media seems to want to cover you and Jonathan every time you attend an event. Though, as much as you guys are in the news, it feels like another level dating someone like Jake.”
“We get the coverage because we’re only the cutest gay couple in Texas,” Jonathan responded.
Matt smiled and chimed in, “Just ask him.”
“It’s like every random person on social media, especially women, feel compelled to compare me to past girlfriends. Or blatantly assert that he can do better,” Rakell hushed, her voice laden with frustration.
“That is just bullshit,” Jonathan spit out, shaking his head.
“Jake says the same thing. I really do try not to look at what they say. When I do, I try to dismiss it as part of the noise of the inter-web AND the fact that if that many people are paying attention, there will be a certain percentage of folks who are not going to like whatever, so they jump in with a negative comment.”
“You’re both too busy to be worried about some random folks out in Internet land. But you must know that many consider it a sport to comment on famous people’s lives, to take them down a notch—or ten. More importantly, how does Jake feel about your filming being all-consuming and that it doesn’t leave much time for him? Forget about the fact that you are pretty much naked in every scene. Remember, you tell me everything.”
Rakell shifted her head toward Jonathon, whose smile seemed about to burst. “Yeah, not that Matt tells me anything, but it does sound like you are only clothed when serving coffee and pie.”
Rakell stood up, rolling her eyes with exasperation. “I need more wine for this. Good to know you’re not the lockbox you used to be, Matt.”
Jonathan raised his eyebrows before explaining, “In his defense, I plied him with Champagne and a little Jonathan action.” His tongue snaked out of his mouth, dancing between his open lips, a large grin taking over his face. “I can get this guy to divulge anything.”
Matt dropped his head back on the couch. "I'm sorry, Rakell. He caught me at a weak moment.”
“I guess I should just learn to share information with both of you,” Rakell said, smiling.
Jonathan practically shouted, “Finally! How long have I been around, and you are just learning this?”
“To answer your questions, Jake is uncomfortable with the nudity, but he’s calmer about it than you’d think. Partly because I haven’t let on about the graphic nature and how many simulated sex scenes are actually involved,” she mumbled as she neared the last few words. She knew how ridiculous this sounded. It rang out as foolish in her own head but became magnified to outright inane when she voiced it to others. Still, there was this question scratching at the back of her head: Why doesn’t anyone ask me how I’m handling Jake’s job being all-consuming, making it difficult for him to schedule time to support me? Why do people always wonder how the man is handling a woman’s busy career, not the other way around? What the hell year is this?
She watched as Matt and Jonathon shared a knowing glance, then cleared their throats in unison. Matt nodded at Jonathon like they’d just finished an entire conversation. “I got this. Rakell, I know you’re really bright, but I think you’re forgetting a key factor. This movie is going to be available for public viewing. You do know that Jake is part of the public, right?”
“Yeah,” Jonathon blurted out. “You don’t want a Kid Rock, Pam Anderson moment.”
Matt’s gaze shifted to Jonathon. A crease formed between his eyebrows, not masking the nonplussed expression taking over his face. “What are you talking about?”
Jonathan looked from Matt to Rakell, bemused, as if they’d both been living under a rock. “In Borat , which they watched at a viewing party with many famous people in attendance, there’s a scene referencing sexual content with Pam that Kid Rock did not know about until then. He was embarrassed and left the party immediately, leaving Pam behind.”
“Wow! I can’t imagine anyone walking out on Pam Anderson,” Rakell said, surprised.
“Well, let’s keep in mind that Kid Rock is the same guy who shot bottles of beer to protest a trans-person, soooooo,” Jonathon said, shrugging his shoulders.
“There is some twisted thinking out there…that just can’t be fixed,” Rakell stated.
“Okay, enough of the TMZ trivia, Jonathon,” Matt admonished, redirecting his gaze to Rakell. “You do know that you’re going to get a reaction out of him if he doesn’t know until the movie is released.”
“I’m waiting for the final cut to see what’s included in the film; then, I can prepare him for any content he may be uncomfortable with.”
“Talking about a bomb, Matt has something huge he is considering,” Jonathan added, nudging his shoulder into Matt. “Tell her.”
Matt shut his eyes and said, “Do we have to do this now? Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and this is just something I’m contemplating. Nothing is solidified. I haven’t even talked to my family yet.”
Jonathon pressed. “Didn’t you use the word calling ? Like, didn’t you say that you feel ‘called’ to this?”
“Now you have to tell me,” Rakell asserted, her hands going to her hips. “Come on, Matt.”
Matt let out a rough sigh, then said, “So you know everyone’s favorite uncle, my uncle Emmitt?” Matt’s drudged tone made it clear to whom he was referring.
“Yes, your aunt is finally leaving that asshole?” Rakell said pointedly.
Matt laughed lightly. “No, but the whole family would consider that an early Christmas gift.” He cleared his throat, his voice shifting. Rakell’s eyebrows arched, and she could feel her pulse quickening. Everything about Matt’s posturing and tone indicated that his next words would be impactful. “In the spring, he plans to announce that he is running for Texas governor.”
“Oh my God, like this state needs another one of them,” Rakell spit out, her cupped palm springing to her open mouth. “Nooo…” she muffled from beneath her hand.
Jonathan made a gruff sound in his throat. “Let’s get to the part that will cause me personal pain. Not just the prospect that another cuckoo bird wing nut may run the state.”
Rakell leaned forward, staring at Matt. “Matt, what?”
“I’m strongly considering running for the seat he’s vacating.”
“As a Democrat,” Jonathon clarified as if it weren’t obvious.
Rakell's face shifted from shock to confusion. This seemed like an upward battle; she didn’t want to see Matt involved. He’d already put his neck out there, and she wasn’t sure he had the grit to endure how he’d be torn apart if he moved forward with this idea. As good as he’d be for this state, she was slowly learning that American politics could be a ruthless venture that someone with a heart like Matt had no business dabbling in. “He represents a Republican district, and you want to run as a Democrat. Doesn’t that mean you’d have to ‘flip the seat,’ as Americans term it?”
Jonathan let a long, exasperated sigh escape his mouth, nodding as he centered his eyes on Matt. “That is exactly right. He will attempt to flip the seat from red to blue in a deeply red state.”
“I will only do it if you are behind me, Jonathan. And you too, Rakell. I’ll only pursue this if both of you support it,” Matt said, staring into his glass. “For the record, Texas is turning purple.”
“Let this Colorado boy educate you both.” Standing, Jonathon took a long swig of his wine, his hand sweeping in front of him as if he were showing them something. “The Lone Star state is crimson, with some pockets of azure. Those colors have not blended to create the desired shade of violet, my dear ones.”
Matt’s spine went even more erect than usual. Rakell knew he had a retort, one that would dampen Jonathon’s theatrical presentation, a fact that would cut through all their rebuffs on why this wasn’t a good idea. “Wait, the numbers do not tell the whole truth about this state. The bigger problem here is getting Democrats and Independents out to vote. Texas is portrayed in a certain way in the media that the state uniformly votes red. So people get the sense that their vote won’t matter. Honestly, if I ran, it would be to push people to vote whichever way they choose, but more importantly, don’t stay home because you think it doesn’t matter…it does.” The conviction in his tone made him sound like he was already preparing a campaign speech, Rakell thought, watching Jonathon clap silently.
Jonathon’s face dropped, his next words dripping with concern. “You, my dear, recently came out as gay. Yes, a gay cowboy whose daddy owns one of the most successful oil businesses in North America, but nonetheless gay, and the media has given you a pass. Still, if you announce your intentions, the red in this state will come for your blood, and my fear is the charge will be led by dear ole’ Uncle Emmitt.”
Jonathon’s words prickled along the back of Rakell’s neck. Her eyes cast to the floor to cover up the dread seeping into her. She couldn’t describe it.
Matt raked his fingers through his dark brown hair. “Rakell?”
“I just, well, I, I don’t know. I hope someone good like you will take it on…I just don’t want it to be you.”
“Then who?” Matt dropped the question amid Jonathon and Rakell’s furtive glances. Neither answered.
They pulled up to Jake’s parents’ house. parking along the gravel ranch road because the half-moon-shaped driveway was full. Rakell could feel that the place was already bustling, and they hadn’t seen a soul yet. The door burst open with the gusto one would expect from a gaggle of fraternity guys let loose on a spring break beach. A tiny, red-headed fella running pell-mell emerged, with arms ahead of him as he yelled, “An-K, An-K.” Rakell quickly offloaded the bag with mac n cheese and the secret stash of chicken nuggets she’d brought for the little guy whirling toward her. She bent to her knee as Cameron ran into her arms at full bore. She could feel Jake’s eyes on her as his nephew began rubbing the top of his head against her upper chest, almost like a horse scratching his neck against a post. Rakell knew that he was asking her to massage the top of his head—this was Cameron’s ‘love language,’ which she was happy to do.
She heard Jake say, “I can’t believe he went to you over me. When did I become Uncle What’s His Name? I mean, it’s the decision I would have made, but Cameron has always been on Team Jake.” After a minute, Jake cleared his throat and said, “Hey, dude, number fifteen.” Cameron crested his neck in Jake’s direction, his eyes widening as if he had just noticed his uncle for the first time. Jake returned the bag to Rakell, sweeping his nephew into his arms. Rakell smiled at the sight of little limbs clutched around Jake like a monkey as he carried Cameron into the house, yelling, “Fifteen, fifteen,” repeatedly.
When they entered, Melissa said, “I couldn’t stop him. He was out the door in a flash once he saw you two. Rakell, you’ve been his hero since Tuesday when you picked him up from the torturous Thanksgiving celebration. Thank you again.”
“It was nice to spend some time with him, just us…” Rakell said, catching Jake’s heavy gaze on her, a warm smile blanketing his face as he lowered his nephew. She shifted her eyes from him back to Melissa, scrunching her nose. “And that Thanksgiving celebration was torturous. Everyone was running amok. It was a cacophony of noise spraying off the walls as kids danced around in Pilgrim or Indian costumes. The whole thing was low-level disturbing.” She shook her head, ignoring Jake’s chuckle. “I’m serious. I think adults without sensory issues would have a problem there. It’s interesting that as grownups, we can choose our experiences, like going to a concert, attending a wild party, running at the lake, or between dinner in or out… but kids don’t get to do that. We assume that a party with all the noise, colors, and other maniacal kids will be fun for all of them…”
Jenae and Winnie stepped into the kitchen when they heard Rakell talking. Jenae threw her arms out and hugged Jake, saying, “We were so happy when we heard you and Dwayne were going to make it to Thanksgiving—dare I say it—before the Super Bowl.” Then, turning to Rakell with her arms fully outstretched, she added, “And, we were even happier when we heard you were coming.”
“Matt said he and Jonathan had a great time with you and Winnie in New York. Jonathan mentioned that your townhome was ‘appealing to the artist’s eye,’” Rakell said, making air quotes and pitching her voice, mocking Jonathan.
Winnie shook her head. “Ironically, that artist’s eye cost us thousands of dollars.”
Jake nodded. “I need to have him look at my house.”
His mom laughed softly before saying, “Jake, you’re ahead of most of the Skyler men since you don’t have dead animals on any of your walls.”
Uncle Joe obviously heard Annette from the other room and called out, “I don’t think I have enough dead animals on my walls. I have killed so many more that have never made it to a wall.”
Jake seemed unable to resist saying, “As a fashion-forward Texan, I prefer wearing my animals to hanging them as decorations—notice the custom-made square-toed black Lucchese boots.”
As Jake was finishing, Dwayne entered the kitchen, sporting his classic impish, ‘I’m up to something’ grin. Rakell was anxious to hear his retort to Jake bragging about his boots made from some exotic animal.
“Notice the blah-blah crocodile boot customized to my beautiful athletic foot, blah, blah, blah…”
Jake whipped around, grumbling under his breath, though just loud enough for the kitchen crowd to hear. “They are alligator, asshole.”
“Jake Anthony Skyler,” Annette barked out, her eyes skipping across the room to David’s mom, Jake’s grandma.
“Sorry,” Jake said, offering his grandma a sheepish smile.
She was the carrier of those piercing blue eyes, Rakell thought as she watched his grandma wave her hand as if to say, ‘No worries.’ “I didn’t hear what you said, Jake. I was coming in here to give the Bradshaw crew hugs. Georgia, I can’t wait to have more of that sausage stuffing. I’ve been thinking about it since last year.”
It struck Rakell again how the women in Jake’s life made a circle around him, keeping him in line while forgiving his transgressions. Or was that just what family does? It was hard to make the comparison to Matt’s family because there was a formality to them that the Skylers didn’t embody, and Matt was so different from Jake. Sure, they’d both grown up in Texas, riding horses and loving football, but Matt always felt like an outsider and never publicly stepped out of line. Jake was infused with the idea that he was a guy, and guys make mistakes; that’s just how it is. Was it because Matt didn’t feel like he had the same wiggle room as Jake? Even if Matt’s family were uber-wealthy, everything they did, everything they wore, and whom they loved made its way to the news. Jake had only just started to experience that level of notoriety. The Waterman family was generations in the making.
Dwayne put his fingers to his chest like a chastised artist, looking to the room since it was obvious that he had the floor. “Oh, pardon me, most noted Texan fashion king, they are made from alligators,” he said as if schooling the folks gathered around the kitchen.
Dwayne whispered in Jake’s ear, “The fact that you know the difference is sad.”
Rakell snickered, looking down at Jake’s boots.
Joe bellowed again from the other room, “I only have five percent of my trophy kills on the wall.”
Annette shouted back, “Okay, Joe,” rolling her eyes toward Rakell and Jenae. Shifting her attention to Jake, she pointed toward the back door. “You guys go put your stuff out in the party barn. Also, Jake, there’s someone out there who has been Cameron's best friend, and she needs her ears scratched. She hasn’t seen you in so long.”
“Dolly!” Jake said excitedly, twisting one foot toward the sliding glass doors.
Rakell watched Annette turn to Dwayne’s mom, who had followed her son into the kitchen, her hands open wide. “Georgia, I need a hug.”
“Thanks for letting us invade on your family event.”
“Georgia, you are family. The kind you choose,” Annette said with finality.
Annette walked over to Eva, who was waiting at the door to the kitchen, and threw her arms out as she said, “Eva, every time I see you, you get even more beautiful.”
Under his breath, Dwayne said to Rakell, “And a lot less dressed.”
Rakell smiled and whispered, “Maybe this is karma for how you spent your early adulthood.”
Dwayne huffed, “Shut up, I don’t believe in that shit."
Rakell chuckled. “Me either, or I’d be…well…”
Dwayne wiggled his eyebrows. “You’re dating Skyler , so there’s your karma.”
The chatter around the table continued to escalate as everyone tried talking over everyone else. Uncle Joe said grace, which ended with Georgia’s rousing “Amen,” kicking off the meal.
Rakell warmed when she glanced at Cameron in his noise-blocking headphones as he devoured the no-longer-secret stash of chicken nuggets she’d brought. Sitting next to him, Cassie put a roll on his plate. He looked at it, then moved it to the edge away from the nuggets and corn as if that were its assigned place. Cassie nodded as if she approved of the roll’s placement. Then her eyes caught Rakell’s focused stare, and she explained, “He just likes everything to be in its place. It makes him feel safer.”
Cassie was clearly Cameron’s ambassador in the world. Thinking about that made Rakell’s chest swell. “I totally get that,” Rakell murmured, hoping her face conveyed how impressed she was by Cassie.
Then Cassie leaned forward, her eyes darting around, her eyebrows up, her expression signaling that her next words were secretive and important. “Aunt K, did you know religion is for men who are trying to keep women down?”
Rakell grabbed her wine and took a big gulp, trying to suppress a laugh. “Is that so? I guess I hadn’t thought about that, but…” she said, searching her brain for the right answer.
She watched Tom twist in his chair, his face reddening. “Cassie…” he groaned. “What are you talking about?”
“I heard Mom say that on the phone,” Cassie said, setting her fork down, her hands going to her hips.
Melissa’s eyes circled the nearby people at the table, almost purposefully skimming over Tom, narrowing on her daughter. “Cassie, don’t repeat stuff you hear.” Melissa’s voice was clipped with reprimand. Then she altered her expression, sifting in a quick breath of air, infusing her next statement with earnestness, “We can talk about that later.”
Rakell noted that Melissa didn’t try to deny saying it, making Rakell internally thrust her fist up in solidarity. Her thoughts on religion weren’t concrete. But you’d have to be living under a rock not to see the gaslighting of women coming from religious circles.
Tom’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, is that what your mother is saying?”
It was hard to ignore his derisive tone and how Melissa shifted her gaze away from his face dismissively. Is it just a matter of time before Melissa leaves? That afternoon they’d spent by the pool had given Rakell a new view of Jake’s sister as she’d hinted at having walked away from her first love because, on paper, he couldn’t compare to Tom. She’d expounded by saying that people should pay attention to how you feel about yourself when you're with someone, that if you start doubting yourself, not thinking you're good enough, that’s probably a sign that you're with the wrong person. She’d said, “I’m going to drill that into Cassie when she gets older.”
“Aunt K, we want to see you in a movie.” Jasmine squealed, her face lit up with anticipation. “Please!!”
Rakell caught Delilah's amused expression as she took another bite of food, as if she needed time to process her daughter’s comment. Then she shrugged her shoulders to Rakell, gesturing an apology as she grimaced. “We told her you were working on a movie and would be a movie star.”
Cassie threw her hands up. “Yay, we can’t wait to see you in a movie. Uncle J, you are so lucky your girlfriend is a movie star.”
“I am,” Jake mused, pressing his shoulder gently into Rakell.
“I want to see you!” Jasmine persisted.
Jake cleared his throat. “Jasmine, you know how there are movies that your parents watch that you are not allowed to watch?”
Jasmine cut him off: “No, I watch everything my parents watch. Daddy loves, loves Disney movies.”
Jordan grumbled, “Yeah, parenthood brings out the wild in you. There may be a link between those movies and me spending two hours at the gym.”
Cassie stared at Rakell, then put her fork down on the table with a thud. “Wait, is there S-E-X in your movie, Aunt K?” Her eyebrows knitted together with concern.
Rakell raised her eyebrows at Melissa, intentionally not acknowledging Tom’s sour expression. “Well, I mean…”
Jake interrupted, trying to save her stumbling and weak explanation. “No, let’s just say it's not the kind of movie kids watch. It’s rated…”
Cassie jumped in, cutting Jake off. “Wait, it’s rated R, isn’t it?” she asked, her tone conspiratorial as her eyes jumped from Jake to Rakell.
“More like NC-17,” Jake mumbled before Rakell whacked his shoulder.
Eva looked up from her plate, directing her attention to Rakell. “I’d like to see it, then,” she said, arching an eyebrow.
Before Dwayne could say a word, Jake stated, “For you, it is NC-30, and your parent has to accompany you. Meaning, you can’t see it.”
“Watch me, Jake.” Eva’s full lips spread over her wide, white smile. That attitude appeared to be a family trait. Dwayne was definitely being revisited by karma through his little sister, Rakell concluded
Eva’s mass of dark ringlets dipped in red bounced around her face as her gaze scooted to Rakell. “Can you get me an invite to the premiere? I’d love to hook up with a movie star.”
Dwayne’s focus instantly lifted from his plate and through a mouth full of food, he stated, “Not a chance, sis.”
Definitively, Eva quipped, “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m all grown up.”
Rakell giggled as she heard Dwayne mumble, “Yeah, I’ve noticed.”
“Speaking of hot, muscular, tatted guys who should be on the cover of romance books, tell me about your hip ornament. The one that is almost as good as you,” Eva served toward Dwayne, who seemed, briefly, to be at a loss for words.
Rakell said, “Well-played, Eva, almost as good.”
Rakell could see Jake visibly fighting himself not to speak.
“Don’t even think about it. He doesn’t like girls. He’s only into books,” Dwayne said curtly.
Tilting his head to the side, Jake whispered in Rakell’s ear, “Forget girls. I don’t think he likes humans in general.”
Dwayne continued, “I went to his apartment, and the dude had what looks like ten thousand books.”
“You’re not a big fan of books, huh?” Jake needled, his eyes fixed on the fading scar still dusting the bridge of Dwayne’s nose.
“Now, Jake, don’t tease,” Georgia scolded from the other side of the table. “It’s because he was never good at reading.” The people within earshot seemed to halt in the middle of eating. Rakell could feel Dwayne almost vibrating from embarrassment. “It’s true, but Papa always said it didn’t matter because you were good with a football, and he was right...”
“Stop, Mama, just stop.”
As if someone had hit him on the shoulder, Jake’s back went rigid. “Ready, dude? It’s time,” Jake declared loudly, holding up a large turkey drumstick, his eyes casting up and down the long row of tables forming one expansive Thanksgiving gathering. An impish grin took over his face, and Rakell thought it was some theatrical ploy to cover for Dwayne. She’d noticed how they did that for one another. As much as they gave each other a hard time, there was an unspoken allegiance, like they could draw proverbial sardonic swords on each other, but the outside world had better step back if one of them were under siege.
Suddenly, she saw Jake’s grandpa sit up and clap, yelling, “My money is on Jake!” Then his grandma nudged Dolores, and they both raised their glasses in the air, chanting, “Dwayne’s our man, Dwayne’s our man!”
“Yes, he is!!” Georgia yelled, stomping her feet, which started a rippling effect of feet clopping under the table.
Then Jordan proclaimed, “Jake’s got this. He’s been pacing himself.”
Dwayne pitched his head forward, a grin consuming his face, his animated gaze scanning the length of the table, turkey leg in hand, assuring he had captured the audience's attention. “We all know who’s faster, Ms. Annette. You got the stopwatch, so say when!”
Rakell watched as Annette stood, half-smirking while rolling her eyes as if she was succumbing to a silly request. She glanced down the table to Jake and Dwayne, both leaning forward, ready. Her look reminded Rakell of the mom of toddler boys waiting for an inevitable food fight. “Ready, set…go,” she said, her thumb starting the stopwatch on her phone.
Rakell tried to fight the urge to cringe outwardly. She was witnessing a Southern Spring Break eating contest, onlookers cheering the two men on. She wanted to yell— this does not happen in the rest of the civilized world —but found herself watching Jake mouth a turkey leg like a lion tearing at a zebra’s flesh and suddenly began rooting for him. What the hell? First, you cheer this guy on as he runs down the field with a pigskin, and now you're hoping he gnaws a turkey leg clean the fastest. Damn, she really needed to spend more time in Europe. She caught Delilah’s shrugged shoulders; they exchanged a knowing glance, which erupted into a shared laugh.
“Done!!” Dwayne shouted, springing up from his seat, holding a meatless bone in the air like a trophy. “Done. Once again, Dwayne Bradshaw wins!”
The table erupted with a mixture of hoots and cheers before settling back to eating and muted conversation.
Then from the other end of the table, Jake’s aunt Dolores shouted, “Did y’all hear there are whispers that Congressman Emmitt may run for governor? He’s got real Christian values and doesn’t want all the liberals from New York and California to keep trying to make Texas something we’re not.”
Rakell shook her head, then stopped, realizing she was staring. How did Dolores know that? Matt said it hadn’t been announced yet.
Jake whispered, “For Christ’s sake,” beside Rakell, just as his mom stood and announced, “It’s time for dessert, Dolores. David and any other hands available to help get the pies out, jump in. Jake, get more…”
“Wine. On it, Mom.” He tapped Rakell on the shoulder and said, “Come with me; I need a bottle babe.”
“Sure…bottle what?” she murmured, distracted. “Wait, how did Dolores know that? It hasn’t been announced. I mean, I haven’t heard anything…” she swallowed as she peered at Jake.
“My aunt and uncle were very active with Congressman Emmitt’s campaign. He’s probably sending out messages to see what his supporters think. Which, by the way, I’m not one.” He winked, helping her to her feet. “Gotta love family gatherings.”
She smiled, drinking in his sparkling blue eyes, lit up with sarcasm. " Actually,” she said, nestling into his chest, “I do. Thank you for insisting I come.”
He wrapped his arms around her. “Are you kidding? My family wanted you here more than me. Let’s get my mom’s glass filled before she says something about Texas being backward and she wishes she could return to France. She’s good for a ‘The Skyler family needs to wake up’ lecture every few years, usually after some of the remaining ultra-conservative Skylers start complaining about Texas turning liberal, which would be a dream come true for my mom.”
She looped her arm around Jake’s bicep, covered in a thin gray wool sweater. “That would be amazing, but leave it to the men to fight hard if they think they are losing power and…”
“Whoa…are we that bad?”
“No, it’s anyone in power, but for…well, since forever, it’s been men, specifically white men, and it’s a struggle for people to give that up. They’re afraid. It’s sad, but…”
“I don’t know. I think you have all the power.” He smirked, his lips brushing against her forehead.
“We’ll see about that,” she said, pushing on his chest, but even as she said it, she thought about her mom, Annette, and Melissa . Hadn’t they all given up aspects of their lives for men or, more accurately, playing the traditional role of women?
After desserts and what seemed like controlled conversations that revolved around weather, future trips and the strong possibility of the Sacramento Condors going to another Super Bowl, the night dwindled as family and friends hugged and thanked David and Annette for hosting the gathering. Rakell observed how David initiated the response and said, “It was our pleasure” and that they couldn’t wait to do it again next year. They loved cooking for everyone, and on and on. Whereas Annette was curtly polite, her goodbyes were reminiscent of a flight attendant after a long transcontinental flight: “Great, glad you enjoyed, good night,” a rote farewell, delivered with a stiff smile.
As if reading her mind, Rakell heard Annette say to David, “You get the goodbyes from here. I’m getting the girls and heading to the hill.”
He bent toward Annette, but Rakell still heard him tease her, something about making it up to him later.
Annette quickly retorted as she turned toward the kitchen, " I already did. I said, ‘I do’ to all this.”
With a guffaw, David said, “Touché, my darling. I’ll give y’all some time by the fire before we join. I asked Luis if he could start it on his way back home.”
“Perfect,” Annette said, glancing at Melissa and Rakell, putting more dishes in the dishwasher as Georgia scrubbed a pot. “Stop all this, ladies.” Her eyes jumped to Jenae and Winnie. “Let’s make our way to the fire pit, just us. Jenae. Winnie, grab some bottles. Georgia, you and I can drive the golf carts.”
“Mom, I need to ask…” Melissa tilted her head toward the family room, where the kids watched a cartoon.
“Tell Tom to take the kids home. Dad or Jake will give you a ride later,” Annette directed, as if there wasn’t a discussion.
The next thing Rakell knew, they were gathering around the fire pit at what his family called “The Hill,” wrapped in blankets and drinking wine. Annette steered this ship, Rakell thought, watching her distribute blankets from the gazebo while Melissa and Jenae filled glasses. Georgia relented and let Eva have a glass after Winnie made the case that she was usually on her own and didn’t have to ask anyone. Rakell laughed when Georgia said, “You best be done with it before Dwayne and Jake make their way out here.”
“Yeah, because those two angels have room to talk,” Eva snarked as the others laughed. “I just wish Dwayne would find a girl he wanted to get serious with. I’d love a big sister, someone to neutralize him the way Rakell has softened Jake.”
“Not sure I’ve done that. I mean…”
“Oh, you have, Rakell. Well, not necessarily neutralized,” Melissa said, snickering, “but now he thinks more about us, about a woman’s perspective. That’s what I’ve observed.”
“I agree,” Jenae added before taking a long sip. “I think part of it is that you just kind of say it like it is, instead of what you think he wants to hear. So he’s forced to think about his own words.”
“Yeah, you’re definitely not all cheerleaderish with him, telling him how great he is and…” Melissa elaborated.
Rakell sucked in a breath. “I’m not trying to be difficult or…”
“Difficult, honey, is the word men use to describe women who speak their minds. Biology shows, by the way, that ours are just as intricate and capable as a man’s. So it makes sense that we would lend voice to our brains,” Annette explained. She lifted her plastic cup and said, “Here’s to our brains.”
Rakell sat back, thinking she’d never seen this side of Annette. She knew her as a serious, almost strict singing teacher and a doting wife and mother, and a few times she’d seen Annette quip with Jake, as a mother setting her son straight. She’d never taken note of the woman sitting next to her until now, making her head swim with questions. How did she reconcile leaving France to create a life in Texas? Did she feel shut down here? Had she given up her own dreams to be a mother? As those questions formed, the answers etched into Rakell’s head: yes, yes, she had.
Rakell blinked, casting her eyes on Eva. What was about to come out of her mouth was so inverse to how she’d lived before: closed off, cautious, never inviting people in, ensuring the entirety of her life remained hidden. This was her moving past the artifice of Marietta; this was her creating the person she wanted to be. “Eva, you have a big sister in me if you want…I mean, I’m not good at relationship advice or mushy stuff, but I know fashion and how to tell a guy to fuck off if needed.” Why had she said that?
Her mouth hung open as Eva walked past Georgia and Annette. Standing before Rakell, Eva opened her arms and said, “Deal, sounds like the perfect big sister to me.” Rakell wiggled her limbs around Eva as if this were natural to her.
The two broke apart when Georgia blurted out, “Yes, you are perfect, especially the part about telling guys to fuck off.” They all roared just as Jake’s pickup truck lights flashed, then turned off, and David, Dwayne, and Jake began piling out of the truck, a six-pack swinging from David’s arms.
“I have a new big sister,” Eva announced as they approached the fire pit. “Rakell.”
“Dwayne, that may be the answer to your prayers,” Jake chortled, standing behind the Adirondack chair Rakell was sitting in, twisting his mouth wryly as she swirled her head toward him. “Yep, she definitely knows how to make it hard on the boys.”
“Really,” Rakell prodded, “maybe that’s because I prefer men, not boys…evolved men, that is.”
David threw his head back, a loud guffaw booming from his chest. “You may have moved to the wrong place, darlin’.”
“Hey, I’m growing up,” Jake whined, dramatically clutching his heart. “Next year, I’ll be thirty, and I’m getting my life in line, starting with this one.” He squeezed Rakell’s shoulder from behind.
Rakell felt herself go rigid, relieved when Eva started to speak. “Rakell may not have time for you when she becomes a big movie star.” With those words, her chest tightened even more.
“Sis, Jake will make sure he gets time with her, believe me,” Dwayne said, stopping as he peered at the cup in Eva’s hand. “Hey, are you drinking?”
Eva shook her head, dismissing Dwayne. “Tell us about your movie. Is it super sexy like you?”
“Is that alcohol Eva?” Dwayne grumbled.
“Let her alone. You were drinking in junior high,” Georgia whispered gruffly, loud enough for the group to start laughing.
Rakell toyed with how to answer Eva as Jake jumped in. “There are some pretty intense scenes. I mean it’s a sexual thriller, so, of course there’s going to be some nudity…”
Annette smiled toward Jake. “Rakell, I think this role is going to be a big launch for you, and honestly, you shouldn’t feel shy talking about the movie or the role. There’s a double standard here. In Europe, we would not think to caveat a role by explaining…”
Jenae jumped in, “Dad, who’s that French actress you’re ga-ga over?”
Melissa laughed and said, “Brielle something. Mom says she credits her with Dad finally becoming fluent in French.”
“I would have done way better in high school French if I got to watch her …Brielle…” Jake mused.
Rakell could feel her heart thudding in her neck. They were talking about her Brielle. “Brielle Lambert” fell from her mouth like a chunk of her being had just toppled to the ground in front of everyone. She jerked up, sitting erect, their eyes finding her in the illuminating flicks of flame.
“Yes, yes, Brielle Lambert,” David repeated. “Do you know her?”
Rakell realized her tone had sounded like Brielle was someone she was familiar with more personally than someone you referred to on the screen. “She’s a model, and I am going to be…” She hesitated. “Well, my agent is working on a shoot for me for French Vogue next year. Brielle is often on their cover. So, well, they put me in contact with her, I mean just through email. I mean…” There was truth in her explanation. Her agent was lobbying for Rakell to be in French Vogue , and her agent had said she knew Brielle had sway with them, so she was going to contact Brielle’s agent to see if they could get an inroad. Rakell had never told her agent that she knew Brielle, except as a model/actress. All aspiring women in the industry idolized her. Yet the mention of Brielle within this group felt like an invasion into Rakell’s past, as if they had dug into her private diary. She shook her head, letting the ridiculous thought dissipate.
Jake interrupted Rakell’s last memory of Brielle. “If you do meet her, tell her my dad has a major crush.”
“Ahh…well…”
“No need,” David murmured, moving behind Annette, bending down and kissing the top of her head. “I already married my French crush.”