Second Act (His Chance 1)
Page 63
“So, what happens next?”
“We just keep moving forward like we’ve been, but with the new understanding that we’re doing this as a couple. Step one is to unpack your bags,” I told him. “Then in a few weeks, we’ll go visit our families as planned, but now I get to introduce you as my boyfriend.” I sat up and looked at him as I asked, “That’s right, isn’t it?”
“Definitely.”
“Okay, good.” I returned my head to his shoulder and said, “I actually don’t know what we’ll do when I finish making this movie, but we’ll figure it out together.”
Chapter 15
The next three weeks passed smoothly, with Lorenzo as my constant companion and the most amazing source of support. My last day of filming seemed anticlimactic since everyone else was continuing on, while I alone was stepping out for a while because my scenes in Mendocino had wrapped. But it was nice to know it wasn’t over yet, and I looked forward to joining the cast and crew in San Francisco.
The day my break started, I shaved my beard, straightened my hair, put on a nice suit, and finally felt like myself again. Then we temporarily said goodbye to Riley, Phoenix, and Madame Leota. My two new friends had generously offered to babysit my cat while we were in Louisiana. That seemed like a far better alternative than stuffing her in the much-hated crate for a cross-country flight and then subjecting her to my parents’ slobbery dogs.
We all had to move out of that gorgeous beach house, since it had only been reserved for four weeks, so Phoenix and Riley found a nice, pet-friendly hotel room to share for the remainder of the shoot. Phoenix didn’t really have a reason to remain on-set while I was gone, but I got the impression he wanted to look after his young friend. He was just that kind of guy.
For the first part of our trip, Lorenzo and I flew into Tallahassee, so we could spend some time with his mother. The plan was to rent a car and drive to Louisiana next, and at the end of our visit we’d fly out of Shreveport. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but once our plane landed and we were on our way to have dinner with his mom and her husband, he started to get nervous.
“We don’t have to do this right now,” I said. “If you want to, we can go straight to the hotel, then call and tell her we’ll be by tomorrow.” Since we fully expected his mom and her husband to be uncomfortable with us as a couple, we’d decided to book a hotel in town, rather than staying under their roof.
“They’re expecting us,” he muttered, “and I don’t want to disappoint them.”
He’d bought himself a few new clothes for this trip, since his packing had been minimal when he came to stay with me all those weeks ago. After we parked the generic white rental car behind the restaurant, he got out and fidgeted with his new shirt as he asked, “Do I look okay?”
He was wearing a light blue button-down shirt and a nice pair of jeans, and he was as handsome as ever, even if he didn’t really look like himself. I caught his hands and kissed them before saying, “You look perfect.”
We circled the restaurant hand-in-hand, and when we reached the front Lorie murmured, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
The place was called Crab Queen, and it was part of a regional chain owned by his mother’s second husband. The sign was red neon, and there was a big, lit-up cartoon next to it of a woman wearing a crown and holding a scepter topped with a gold crab. I asked, “Is that—”
“Yup, that’s my mom. She never told me she was the…mascot, I guess, for the restaurants.”
I chuckled and said, “That’s awesome.”
The restaurant was a bit kitschy with its nautical décor, but it was nice, too. We checked in at the podium, and when the hostess found out we were guests of the owner, she fawned over us as she led us to a private banquet room.
The rest of our party was waiting for us, and they both stood up as we approached. His mother was a petite, attractive woman with dyed, jet black hair. She was wearing a stylish dress and heels, and though she had to be in her sixties, she looked closer to her son’s age. She also looked extremely uncomfortable as she and Lorenzo exchanged a quick, wooden hug.
Lorenzo shook her husband’s hand next, and then he said, “Jackie and Stan Marquez, I’d like you to meet my boyfriend, Will Kandinsky.”
Two things were notable about that—he used my stage name instead of my real one, and he actually told them I was his boyfriend. I’d expected him to introduce me as a friend, since he knew how his mother would react.