I'm Your Man (25 page)

“See ya,” I interrupted, and heard him laugh just before the driver closed the door between us.

I jumped when my cell phone rang. Maybe he hadn't been kidding. “Blaine Dunhill,” I said, my heart pounding.

“That was an amazing lunch,” Gretchen said. “What with Daniel's aunt ogling Frank, and you and Daniel doing whatever you were doing.”

“I thought we behaved very well,” I said. “No fighting, no nasty names—”

“I thought about suggesting that the two of you get a room,” she interrupted.

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Blaine,” she said after a long pause, “do you ever wonder how it will affect things with our child if one of us gets involved with someone else? We've gotten accustomed to spending what little leisure time we have with each other. What if—”

“Daniel and I were just making the best of an awkward situation,” I lied, not wanting to go down the Daniel and Blaine path in case it ended up leading nowhere. “I don't see being in a relationship again for a long, long time. And no matter what, I'll be there for you and Civil Liberty.”

“Would you stop calling her that?” Gretchen demanded.

“You're right. It's not really a boy's name,” I said.

“Girl.”

“Mmmm. We'll see.”

We hung up, and I returned my gaze to the window. Sheila's words came back to me:
There's usually more than one way to reach the same end, but sometimes you only see your way.

I was learning. When my plan for fatherhood had been thwarted by the breakup with Daniel, I'd accepted another option from Gretchen. I'd stepped back from the situation with my nephew, letting Nicky call the shots. I had to do the same thing with Daniel and allow him to make the next move.

I
unlaced my hands from behind my head and swung my feet over the side of the bed. Adam had placed one of his old computers, “old” being a relative term, on the desk in his guest room. Naturally, he had it fitted with the latest in high-speed Internet access. I signed on to my remote office server, and found a new e-mail from a name that I hadn't seen before with “It's me—Nick” in the subject line.

After I read the e-mail a couple of times, I realized that one of the first things I needed to do, if I intended to get closer to my nephew, was to stop calling him “Nicky.” He obviously preferred “Nick.” I also recalled one of my earlier revelations involving him, which was that trust was a two-way street. It wasn't right to expect him, at his age, to open up to an uncle he barely knew just because I felt like he should.

I found myself wishing I'd made more of an effort with my nephews over the years. I could remember liking them when they were babies, and being amused when they started showing their own personalities. I'd probably let my feelings for Shane keep me away from them after he started turning Tony and Chuck into carbon copies of himself. And once I didn't have to spend time with my family, I didn't. Sydney had made it easier. Not only was she ill at ease around kids, but she'd aspired to a more pretentious lifestyle, so we usually spent our holidays somewhere trendy instead of with family. I wrote checks so my nephews could buy what they wanted for their birthdays or Christmas, as I had no insight into their interests.

Now I regretted my distance from them. I hadn't offered even the minimal support that Wayne had given me. And in Nicky's case, I'd developed nothing we could use as a starting point in a relationship.

I figured he would probably respond if I opened up first, but I didn't want to do that in an impersonal e-mail. That seemed more like the way my father would treat me, and probably was how Shane treated Nicky.
Nick,
I reminded myself.

I clicked “Send”—without any input from Nick—and watched as the note to my nephew disappeared into cyberspace. I was about to sign off when I heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

“Hey,” Adam said, peeking his head around the door frame. “Did you have a good nap?”

“Nah. I just sort of lay there, thinking.”

“I hope you got to relax a little,” Adam said.

“Sometimes it can be just as relaxing to lie around and be alone with your thoughts, you know?”

“I remember naps,” Adam said. “But that was before I had Jeremy and my mother competing for my attention. The rest of my time is usually taken up by work. Sometimes I'd give anything for just a half hour by myself.”

“To take a nap?” I asked.

“Who cares about naps? I'd rather masturbate,” he said.

I laughed in surprise, and asked, “Why? You've got Jeremy. Or is the honeymoon over?”

“Not by a long shot. It's like you said, Blaine. Sometimes a guy needs to be alone with his thoughts.” Adam winked at me before he turned from the doorway.

“Adam?” I called after him.

“Yeah?” He stuck his head back inside the door.

“I was wondering,” I started, “when everyone else gets into town for the wedding . . .”

“Yeah?”

“Where are they all staying?”

Adam laughed and said, “Don't worry. You're the only one who's staying here. Daniel's been at his parents' house for a couple of weeks. Everyone else will be at the Hampton Inn. It's close enough that people can get here without much trouble, but they won't be underfoot while we're getting everything ready for the wedding.”

“Is there anything you don't think of?”

“Oh,” he said, “except for Martin.”

I groaned. “I try not to think of him, either. So much for relaxing.”

“Don't worry. He's staying with my parents.” When I breathed a sigh of relief, he gave me a commiserating look. “My work here is done. What do you want for dinner?”

“Whatever. I'm easy.”

“I've heard that about you,” Adam teased.

“Hey!” I exclaimed, and mimed picking up the computer and heaving it at his head.

“Your assistant sent me an e-mail detailing your every dietary need,” Adam said. His enjoyment when I flinched with embarrassment was evident in his smile. “I'll pick something especially yummy from the list. Maybe something from page three.”

“You'd think since I'm not in the office, Violet would take a day or two off,” I grumbled.

“She had an accomplice. It was signed from Violet and Gavin,” Adam said before he walked down the hall.

Gavin had stayed in New York to take care of Dexter, and Violet would be handling everything at the office. Both of them knew how to reach me by phone and e-mail, but I didn't anticipate any problems. I'd worked my ass off before coming to Eau Claire so that I'd be able to relax and forget work. I still didn't want to take Frank up on his offer of the Lake Geneva cabin, but I did intend to enjoy a well-deserved vacation.

I hadn't come up with anything solid for the men's line that Lillith had dropped in my lap. I didn't know when Neptune passed by Venus again, or whatever astral-babble meant I could take another stab at it if I missed my deadline. But missing a deadline was not in my nature. For weeks I'd been trying to devise something.

It hadn't been nearly as hard when I was first visualizing the ads for the Zodiac line. Back then, Daniel would lie in bed next to me and listen while I brainstormed ideas. We'd usually end up laughing when we talked about Lillith's bizarre astrological quirks, but sometimes even those moments led me to fresh concepts. With that in mind, I'd turned to Gretchen, since these days, ours were the conversations that usually left me laughing.

When I'd called her one night to talk about the challenge of the men's line, I could hear her shuffling papers and assumed she was sitting at her desk.

“I want to keep it separate from the Zodiac line, but somewhat related,” I explained. “Know what I mean?”

“Uh-huh.” More paper shuffling, now underscored by the unmistakable sound of a ten-key.

I occasionally felt that her mind was somewhere else when we talked. I assumed her distraction had to do with the baby. I decided to test my theory that she hadn't heard a word I'd said.

“I think I'll run an ad campaign that focuses entirely on gay sex. In one of the ads, one guy can say, ‘What's that you're wearing?' And the other guy can say, ‘Come To Me,' and the first guy can say, ‘Funny, it doesn't smell like cum to me.' ”

Gretchen took a deep breath before addressing me. “Just because I'm not right in front of you, and I throw in the occasional
uh-huh,
doesn't mean I'm not listening.”

“Good god, we're starting to sound married.”

“Tell me about your ad campaign, dear,” she said sweetly.

“I was thinking about a line of products that centered around the characters of the Chinese calendar.”

“So you'd only have to do one ad each year?”

I laughed. “No, but it would be an interesting correlation to the Zodiac line.”

“Yeah, I can see it now.
Cock: the new fragrance from Lillith Allure.”
We both roared with laughter.

“I guess ‘Rooster' doesn't bring about a much more positive image, does it?” I asked.

“Not unless you want to smell like a chicken coop. Not to mention ‘Rat,' ‘Dog,' and ‘Pig.' Now that I think about it, at least your idea is fairly accurate.”

“Don't forget, this dog gave you the sperm that got you pregnant. If you're not careful, you might find yourself having puppies.”

“I wonder if I'd still have to childproof the loft, or if installing a doggie door would suffice?”

“Definitely stick with the childproofing,” I answered.

The more I thought about my idea for the men's line, the more I realized what a ridiculous concept it was. I was glad that I'd shared it with Gretchen rather than Daniel during the one phone call he'd made to me while he was still in Hawaii. It was the first time we'd spoken since our group lunch in New York. My cell phone rang on my way home from the gym after a long day.

“Hello?” I answered, after fishing the phone out of my gym bag and nearly running into a trash can.

“I think my aunt is dating your boss.”

“That's an opening,” I responded.

“Original?” Daniel laughed as we replayed the conversation we'd had about my nephew when I was in Miami.

“Third one today,” I said on cue. “How are you?”

“Well, I'm in Hawaii, where I've always wanted to be, with Jane-Therese, the last person I want to be with. I'm good, but I could be better. How about you?”

“I'm not in Hawaii, where I've always wanted to be, but I don't have to work with Jane-Therese, which is a bonus. I guess about the same as you.” We both laughed. “What makes you think Aunt Jen and Frank are dating? Isn't it possible they're just friends? It might be nice for your Aunt Jen to have someone her age to pal around with.”

“Blaine, they're not a hundred. It's not like she has to find someone to take her to Tapioca Night at Shady Pines. She's a lively woman. But he's younger than her. And rich, I might add. I've seen how this plays out.”

“He's probably only five years younger,” I countered. “And she's rich, too. I think they can both take care of themselves.”

Daniel seemed willing to let it go as a topic of conversation, but it was obvious from his tone that he was as reluctant as I was to get into the “us” discussion that we intended to have in Eau Claire. Instead, he turned the conversation to Sheila, asking if I'd been reading “The Lo-Down.”

“I try not to, but for some reason, Violet's always shoving it in my face,” I said. “I think Lola Listeria is obsessed with Sheila.”

“Maybe that's why she's so hopeful the wedding won't happen,” Daniel said. “She wants Sheila.”

“She seems to think
you're
the reason the wedding won't happen,” I disagreed. “I think my favorite was when she said Sheila would be dining at the Angus Steak House on her honeymoon.”

“That's just disgusting,” Daniel said.

“Beef. It's what's for dinner,” I said.

Daniel ignored that, saying, “I thought it was more clever when she said Sheila would choose ‘Acute Daniel over Obtuse Josh in her oblique love triangle.' ”

“That's not even good math,” I said.

“Is Sheila really going to be the next Bond girl? Or is that another rumor like the
Men in Black
sequel?”

“You'll probably read it in ‘The Lo-Down' before I know about it,” I said.

Our call had ended before we could discuss anything more personal. I knew Daniel had come to Eau Claire directly from Hawaii, but since I'd just arrived myself, I hadn't seen anyone other than Adam and Jeremy. I wasn't sure if Sheila and Josh knew about all the publicity Lola Listeria was giving them. But Adam was aware of it, and Jeremy had attributed Daniel's heightened celebrity to broadcasts about
Secret Splendor
's location shoot by several networks on their entertainment shows.

I wondered if there were reporters stationed at the Stephensons' house, and how Daniel's parents were reacting to that. Adam said the persistent group camped out where his driveway met the road had been there ever since the two tents were erected. Jeremy noted that Sheila's wedding was getting more publicity than the Gore campaign.

After we ate a fantastic meal prepared by the team of Jeremy and Adam, the three of us slumped on the plump couch in Adam's den to watch television. I felt like I hadn't watched an entire program in years. Truth be told, I always honed in on the commercials to see what other ad companies were doing. I sneered as an ad from one of my former rivals came onto the screen.

“Wow, why the ugly face?” Jeremy asked, turning his head toward me as he sat up.

“It's this ad. It's so ridiculous, yet it won three awards.” I watched as tiny babies in cartoon diapers floated across the screen in an ad for Plumpies Diapers.

“It isn't that bad,” Adam jumped in. “Let me guess. It's an ad by the competition that beat you out of an award.” I blushed at how easily Adam was able to read me. As I was about to explain the acrimonious relationship I had with Plumpies' ad agency, the phone rang. “Hold that thought; it's probably my mother wondering if we've starved to death yet.” Adam leaped up from the couch, obviously not as weighed down by dinner as I was. I heard him mumbling in the kitchen, then he called out, “Blaine? It's for you.”