“Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say goodnight till it be morrow.”
~William Shakespeare
“Tomorrow can’t come quick enough.”
~Romeo Bradley
I’d just stepped out of the car in my sister’s driveway when my phone buzzed. Tucking the bottle of rosé under my left arm, I pulled my phone out of my pocket. Seeing I had a text message from Julius made me laugh because it was a miracle we’d remembered to exchange phone numbers after the make out session the previous night. Smiling like a loon, I opened the message to read what he had to say.
I miss your lips. How about a drink at my place when you get back to town?
It took everything I had not to get in the car and drive straight back to Blissville from Columbus without saying so much as hello to my family. I wanted to tell Julius I’d be back in a little over an hour, but I managed to get a grip on myself and replied:
God, yes! My lips are still tingling. I’ll text you when I leave my sister’s house.
I can kiss other places if you’re too sore.
I’m getting in the car right now and driving back to Blissville.
No, no. Visit with your family. These lips aren’t going anywhere.
Better not, I sent back. I’ll text you soon.
A sharp, judgmental bark came from the back seat of my car. “Fuck!” I said, rushing to open the door behind mine. “I’m so sorry, Dolly. I wasn’t going to leave you back here.” Her reproachful look said she didn’t believe me. I slid my phone back in my pocket and reached for her leash. “Let’s get you inside.”
I waited for Dolly to sniff Ashley and Ben’s perfectly manicured lawn until she found the perfect spot to pee before we headed into my sister and brother in-law’s two-story, contemporary home. The place was massive and much bigger than four people could ever use, but my two nieces, Laurel and Michele, loved the friends they’d already made in the few weeks they’d lived there. I was happy to see the girls smiling joyfully in the pictures they posted on Facebook, and happier to see that their affluent neighborhood was also diverse.
“Hello,” I yelled when I let myself in the front door. “Anybody home?”
“Uncle Rome!” I heard two teenage girls yell before the sound of thundering feet reached my ears. How did two petite girls make so much noise? Beside me, Dolly barked and twirled in circles.
“Pizza delivery,” I teased.
“Oh, how I wish that were true,” Michele said. At sixteen, she was the spitting image of her mother. Long, jet-black hair, the same light blue eyes similar to mine, and a tall, wispy frame. “Mom’s serving vegan lasagna,” she said in mock horror.
“Don’t be so dramatic, Mimi,” Laurel said, rolling her eyes. “She has one for the carnivores too.” The fourteen-year-old was the opposite of her sister in looks and demeanor, inheriting Ben’s blond looks and serious temperament. Laurel might’ve been younger, but she had an old soul.
“I like vegan lasagna,” I said, earning Laurel’s approval.
“Is that a wine bottle tucked under your left arm?” Michele asked.
“Nope. Rocket launcher.”
A noise that was part snort and part giggle escaped from Michele. “Allow me to take the rocket launcher then. What do you think about this house?”
“Well, I’ve only seen the outside and the grand entry. So far, it’s a gorgeous display of…”
“Wealth?” Laurel suggested.
“I was going to say modern architecture and design.”
“I much prefer your smaller house in Whoville,” Laurel said.
“Blissville,” Michele said after she burst out giggling. “You’re such a brat.”
“This place is ginormous,” Laurel said, finally sounding like a teenager. “We could fit three more families in here.”
“Well, yeah,” I said. “Haven’t you heard your mother’s latest plan?”
“What?” Michele and Laurel simultaneously asked.
“Don’t listen to him,” Ashley said, approaching us from the rear of the house. My sister still looked like a supermodel who just stepped off the runway, but her brain was sharper than her looks. Ashley worked for one of the most prestigious law firms in the state of Ohio where she managed a team of lawyers specializing in civil rights. You wouldn’t know it by her outfit of distressed denim and a light gray, cold shoulder T-shirt. “I was going to invite you in to see the rest of the house, but I’m not so sure now.” She flipped her black hair over her shoulder dramatically. She had either missed the premature-gray gene or she spent a lot of time at the hair salon. “Must you rile them up with ridiculous stories.”
“What?” I asked, playing dumb. “You and Ben aren’t adopting four little boys ranging in age from two to twelve?”
“Mom!” Michele gasped. “Is that true? There are a lot of bedrooms in this house.”
“He’s joking, right?” Laurel asked, folding her arms across her chest.
Leaning toward me and lowering her voice so only I could hear, Ashley said, “I’m going to murder you.” Then she faced her daughters with a sweet smile. “Don’t listen to him. We’re not adopting a family of four brothers. We’re not adopting any children,” she added to clarify. “We bought this house because we apparently have more money than sense.”
I looked up at the ceiling that opened up to the second-story landing and admired the way the dark wood beams looked against the light ceiling. From the center of one of the beams hung an ornate crystal chandelier that probably cost as much as my car. I didn’t begrudge them their success, but as beautiful as this house was, it wasn’t my style. I would’ve chosen to take the girls and travel the world during their summer breaks instead.
“It’s not crystal,” Ashley said, reading my thoughts. “Those are actually plastic pieces cut to look like crystal.”
“There had to be at least a thousand pieces to that chandelier,” Ben said, striding toward us. I’m sure he was wondering what was taking us so long to join the group.
Like my sister, Ben looked like a distinguished model you expected to find gracing the cover of a magazine about men’s health in their fifties. He had always been a stunning guy, but he got even better looking with age. As an environmental engineer, he traveled a lot, and I admired the confidence Ash had in her marriage. I’d even asked her about it once. She replied that she knew Ben could have any woman he wanted, and she was grateful she was who he’d chosen. It was obvious in the way he constantly reached for her that he was still as enraptured with Ash as he was on their wedding day.
Ben slipped his hand around her waist and pulled her into him when he reached the group. “We got a really great deal on this house. The sellers were motivated, and we fell in love with it.”
“We still have money left in our college funds, right?” Laurel asked. God, this girl cracked me up.
“Mom and I are paying for part of your college, but not all,” Ben said. “We’ve had this discussion already. Mom and I paid our way through life by taking out loans and working hard to pay them off. We’ve been very frank about this.” They had always strived to achieve balance with the girls. I’d heard them say on more than one occasion that just because they could afford to do something for the girls didn’t mean they would.
“Dad is making me get a job,” Michele said, turning to face me. “None of my friends work.”
“None of your friends are probably as grounded as you and your sister either,” I told her. “There’s nothing wrong with hard work and respecting how difficult it is to make money. Wait until you see how much of your check goes to taxes.” I reached out and cupped her cheek. “You’re going to be so much better off in life because your parents could’ve made you both spoiled brats, not the loving, responsible young ladies you are today.”
“You’re forgiven for traumatizing the girls,” Ash said.
“Traumatizing?” Ben asked with a quirked brow.
“He told us you and Mom bought the house because we needed more room for the four brothers you planned to adopt.”
“Huh,” Ben said, tipping his head to the side as if he was considering it. He and Ashley had always said they wanted a large family, but Ash had required a hysterectomy before they could realize that dream. “We do have plenty of room.”
Laurel and Michele glared daggers at me while Ash studied Ben to gauge his seriousness. The smile he gave his wife said they’d talk about it privately.
“What’s taking so long?” yelled a voice from the rear of the house. “Is that my Romeo?”
“Coming, Aunt Astrid,” I said, pulling free from the group and following the sounds of her delighted clapping.
Astrid Abbot was actually our late grandmother’s twin sister which made her my great-aunt. The last time I saw her was two months ago when we celebrated her ninety-fifth birthday. She wasn’t as mobile as she used to be, but sharp as a tack. Arthritis didn’t cripple her fingers like it did many her age, which meant she could still knit. While that was great for Aunt Astrid, it was horrible for me—her favorite nephew. If she wasn’t knitting me sweaters and caps, she was buying the weirdest things she saw on television. One year for Christmas, she bought my sister a coat that looked like it was made from strips of those air pillows they stuff in packages to keep items from breaking during shipping. At least I got crooked sweaters and hats.
I stepped into the enormous room on the back of the house overlooking the inground pool. Three of the four walls were made of windows and doors that opened to the outdoor living area. Part of the room was a comfortable sitting area and the other was the most beautiful kitchen I’d ever seen. It was equal parts contemporary and French country which shouldn’t have worked but did. The modern touches were the commercial grade stainless steel appliances and the white and gray marble countertops, including the one on the kitchen island the size of a double bed. One side of the island had a sink and a glass stove insert along with a generous area for prepping the food. The other side was elevated and acted as an eating area. The cabinets were antique white, distressed, and looked like something that came from the French countryside. I was in love with the space.
Ash came up beside me and tucked herself beneath my arm when I raised it for her. “‘It’s a beaut, Clark.’” She giggled when I quoted our favorite line from National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.
“I knew you’d love the kitchen. To be honest, it was all I could see when we toured the house. It was a good thing Ben stayed grounded and paid attention.”
“It was a good thing I didn’t see the man cave in the basement first, or we would’ve both been in trouble.”
“True,” Ash said, smiling at her husband. “I haven’t seen your eyes glaze over like that since the first time—”
“Ewww. No,” Laurel and Michele both said, making their parents laugh with evil glee.
“I was going to say the first time he drove his father’s classic Mustang before you so rudely interrupted.”
“Yeah, I bet,” Michele said.
“Nice save, sis.”
“No way I looked hungrier at the Mustang than—”
“I’m out,” I said, cutting off Ben. I walked over to the sitting area where my parents and Aunt Astrid waited. “Hello, Mom,” I said, hugging her tight. “I’ve missed you.”
“I miss you too, Rome,” she said, pulling back and cupping my face. Amelia Bradley narrowed her eyes as she studied me. “Something is different than the last time I saw you.”
“I didn’t have any cosmetic work done, Mom.”
“Not that,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s internal.”
“Don’t start with that aura crap, Amelia,” my dad said. He was slower to get up because of his arthritic knees, but at seventy years old, he still towered over me.
“It’s not crap, Dan,” she chided. “See for yourself. Our boy looks happier than I’ve seen him look in years.”
I leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “I am happy. I love my job and new town. I’m even directing the school play this year. It was written by three students, and I’m going to make sure you all have tickets because I know it’s going to be spectacular.”
“Even me?” Aunt Astrid asked from her wheelchair.
I pulled free of my mom and walked over to kneel in front of my favorite aunt. Despite her weird gifts, I loved this woman immeasurably. She’d never married nor had children of her own, so she had claimed me when I was a boy. I owed my love of theater and fine arts to Aunt Astrid because she took me to countless shows and museums during my childhood. She was the one who encouraged me to try out for my first play, and she never missed a performance since. Astrid was a dancer and a model in her youth and had never seen herself settling down. She had always doted on us and was an honorary aunt to many of her friends’ children. I was always her favorite.
“Especially you,” I said sincerely. “I’ll have a front row seat for you.”
“I’m glad I brought you a new scarf then,” she said then tipped her head toward her cavernous handbag on the floor. It reminded me a lot of Mary Poppins’s carpetbag. “Hand that to me, will you?”
I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t say no to her. I picked the bag up and was surprised it was so heavy. “What in the world do you have in here?”
“I think she stole the toaster from ‘the home’ again,” Dad said in a mock whisper.
“Amelia,” Aunt Astrid said shrilly, “I still think you could’ve done better than this guy. It’s not too late you know. You’re still young enough to snag you a good one.” Astrid cackled gleefully. “I still get plenty of action at my age.” The rest of us groaned because we didn’t want to think about Astrid getting it on with her geriatric guys. “What? A woman has needs.”
“Kindly remember there are children in the room,” my mother admonished, but she couldn’t keep the laughter out of her voice.
“Ashley,” Astrid said, mimicking Scarlet O’Hara, “I have a housewarming gift for you, and I contributed to dinner.”
“Oh, Aunt Astrid, you shouldn’t have,” my sister said, and I had to bite my lip to keep from grinning.
“It’s rude to show up without gifts. I have limited access, you see, since they took my computer away for watching my favorite sites for p—”
“Astrid!” Mother shrieked. Michele and Laurel giggled, but I figured it was more from their grandmother’s outburst than them knowing what Astrid had been about to say. At least I hoped.
Astrid stuck a finger in her ear and wiggled it around like perhaps her ears were ringing. “I was going to say programs, Amelia.”
She was going to say porn, and we all knew it. Astrid had fallen asleep while watching gay porn on her laptop one time too many and lost the privilege. She’d told me it was research to make sure I was doing things properly. I had died from mortification but thanked her for her thoughtfulness anyway. Just remembering the conversation made my face flush with embarrassment.
“You do look different,” Astrid said, searching my face.
“That’s your cataracts,” my dad said from behind me. “Rome looks the same as he always does.”
“No, he doesn’t,” all the ladies, including my nieces, chimed in.
“He looks more relaxed,” Michele said.
“Yeah, less tense,” Laurel agreed.
“He looks like he got laid,” Astrid said.
“I’m going to need Rome’s help in the kitchen,” Ashley said. “Girls, take Dolly outside. Let her off the leash so she can run around and play in the grass. Keep her away from the pool, okay?”
“Mom,” they both protested. One quirked brow from Ash and they took Dolly’s leash from my hands.
“We miss all the good stuff,” Michele grumbled.
“They think we’re still little kids,” Laurel agreed.
“Before you steal Romeo to gossip away from my prying ear,” Astrid said, “let me give you the gifts I brought you.”
“Okay, Aunt Astrid,” Ashley said with a forced smile while she braced herself for only God knew what.
“First, my dinner contribution.” She pulled out an industrial-size can of sweet corn that she must have pilfered from the kitchen of her nursing home. “That should be enough to feed us all.”
“I’ll say,” Ashley agreed. “Thank you.”
“And I made you these to use in your lovely kitchen.” Astrid pulled out misshapen knitted objects that I believed were potholders, but I couldn’t be sure. If so, the holes between the knit were too big to afford any protection from a hot pan or baking dish. “I went with a neutral yarn because I didn’t know what color scheme your kitchen was.” Chartreuse was considered neutral? I couldn’t keep the wicked smile off my face when I looked at Ashley after she accepted the gifts. Luckily, Astrid couldn’t see the evil lurking on my face.
“They’re lovely, Aunt Astrid. Thank you so much.”
“You’re so welcome, my lovely girl. And for you, Rome,” she said, pulling my attention back to her. “I thought this would keep you warm this winter.” Astrid pulled out a gorgeously knitted, rainbow scarf from her bag. “Every day can be pride day with this bad boy.”
“It’s gorgeous,” I said, unable to keep the shock from my voice. “You made this for me?” Where were all the crooked lines and gaping holes.
“Don’t be silly. I couldn’t knit this well if my life depended on it. I hired that handsome nurse, Kurt, to make it for you. I was going to try and fix you up on a date with him, but I can see I waited too long.”
“Rome, can I please get your help in the kitchen?” Ashley asked.
“Just because the man is gay doesn’t mean he can cook,” Astrid told my sister.
“That’s true, Astrid,” Ashley replied as she headed to the kitchen with the huge can of corn and her potholders, “but this is one gay man who can cook very well.”
I set my scarf on the arm of the couch and leaned forward to kiss Aunt Astrid’s cheek. “This is a lovely scarf, and I’ll wear it proudly.”
“I love you, and I’m so relieved to see you happy again. I can die in peace now.” Most people would’ve been alarmed by such a comment, but Astrid had been saying it for at least fifteen years.
“You’ll outlive us all,” I told her then joined Ashley in the kitchen. Of course, my mother was right on my heels.
“Who is he?” Mom asked before Ashley could.
“How long has this been going on without us knowing?” Ashley followed.
“Whoa, ladies,” I said, holding up my hands. “It’s all too new to really get into right now. Yes, I’ve met someone special, but we’ve only had one date.” And hours of kissing, but they didn’t need to know that.
“You look so relaxed, Rome,” Ashely said softly. “I only want you to be happy. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“I did,” Mom said.
“Make sure you get all the juicy details,” Astrid yelled from the living room.
“Sure thing,” Mom replied. She looked at me and shrugged. “Get talking while we work, or I’ll make things up for Astrid. You choose.”
So, I caught them up on everything that had happened since the beginning of school. I told them all about the play, the amazing staff at the schools, and lastly, I told them about my Julius, as I was already starting to think of him. It was too soon, I knew that, but I was also a man who recognized something special when it happened.
I didn’t linger as late as I usually did because Julius was waiting for me, and I wanted to make a quick stop before it got dark. I pulled into Green Lawn Cemetery and drove the winding road I’d traveled so many times over the past seven years. I parked my car but left Dolly inside with the windows rolled down. I knew she’d be watching me from the window in the back seat.
I knelt in front of the beautiful tombstone and traced my fingers over the letters that spelled Peter Chastain. “Hi, Peter,” I said. “It’s been a while since I stopped by, but you know that already.” After Peter first died, I visited several times a week, but over the years that had changed to special occasions like holidays, birthdays, and anniversaries. Peter’s soul wasn’t in the ground; he lived in my heart. “I couldn’t imagine life without you. I’ve muddled through somehow, but I was just going through the motions. And now, well, I want to do more than stumble and scrape by. I want to dance again and embrace life to the fullest. I can only do that because I know it’s what you would want for me. I loved you so much, Peter.” Hot tears rushed down my face. “Loving someone else won’t diminish what I felt for you. I finally understand that now.”
I sat there in the serene setting for a while, reminiscing on some of the happiest times in my life and realizing there was still so much joy ahead of me. Then I got in my car and drove toward the man whose smile and laughter filled me with warmth, whose music stirred my soul, and whose kisses made my toes curl.