His father said nothing, just crunched his toast.
“But Java Joe’s has been a good experience for me. I show up to work on time with my game face on.”
That was another of his father’s phrases. Whenever he was about to start negotiating with a customer, he put his game face on. “I’m learning about people and how to deal with them. Those are all the skills you taught me, even if you thought I wasn’t listening.”
The rest of the family began to filter in, and Gavin made everyone coffee. His mother took over the stove, preparing breakfast for everyone, and the grannies sat together chirping happily like a bunch of birds in springtime.
Miles was the last to come in.
“I brought the agreements with me,” Gavin’s dad said. “Now that we’re all together, we can get everyone’s signatures.”
“What agreements?” Gavin asked.
“Just a formality,” his dad replied. “For your performance at the Dells and Miles’s participation.” He opened up a portfolio and pulled out a sheaf of papers. “There are two separate contracts, and each one of you needs to sign both, on the appropriate line.” He passed two sheets of paper and a pen to his mother, who signed her name and moved the pages on to her sister.
Gavin signed his name when the pages came to him and then passed them on to Archie, who gave them to Erica.
When they were all done, his father said, “I’ll stop by the dealership before my golf game and make copies of everything for Wally and Scott so each branch of the family has one.”
He stood up. “Natalie, dear, do you want a ride into town?”
“Yes, sweetheart,” Gavin’s mother said. Gavin loved to hear his parents exchange endearments; it reminded him that there was real love out there. Now, with Miles, he felt he’d found that, and he looked forward to lots of those exchanges with him.
His parents left Viking at the house, and the big Irish setter went to sleep on one of the sofas in the living room. The three grannies, Gavin, Erica, and Archie trooped into the makeshift studio. It was a tight fit with all six of them in the room and Miles behind his keyboard.
“I have the sheet music for the five most popular songs you recorded,” Miles said. “I’d like you to sing them all through once, and then we’ll decide which ones to focus on for the concert.”
“Apple Cider Time” had been the Sweethearts’ biggest hit, but they’d also done well with a couple of covers of folk tunes like “Down in the Valley” and “The Bells.” They had also scored with another original tune, “Milking the Cows,” composed by a songwriter with roots in Wisconsin.
It was the last one they sang, a novelty tune which required Grandma Frances to sing and to mime milking cows. Aunt Myrtle and Aunt Ida mooed and chimed in on the chorus. Gavin thought it was pretty funny to hear the back and forth of Ida’s high notes and Myrtle’s lower ones, and a couple of times, Archie, Erica, and Gavin broke up in laughter and they had to start all over again.
“My votes are for ‘Apple Cider Time,’ ‘Milking the Cows,’ and ‘Down in the Valley,” Miles said. “What do you all think?”
There was general agreement, and then they stopped for lunch. After they ate, the grannies pleaded exhaustion and went to their rooms for naps. That left Gavin, Archie, and Erica with Miles.
“Let’s experiment with some beat-boxing on ‘Milking the Cows,’” Miles said when they were together in the studio.
Gavin and Erica began to sing, and Archie threw in random bits of percussion. Miles was furiously taking notes, and when they finished, he had them go back again and again, adding and subtracting bits. Then he worked with Erica on her high notes. “Here’s where you can go operatic on us. Let’s hear that coloratura.”
“First time I’ve used opera techniques for mooing,” she said.
Gavin kept waiting for his critique from Miles. He could tell that sometimes he was still going off-key, though he tried to hear it and correct himself as quickly as he could. But his singing was crap, and he knew it.
By the time they broke for the afternoon, though, Miles had said almost nothing to Gavin, other than a few minor comments. Miles dismissed them so he could work in the studio. Gavin collected Viking, and the four of them walked out to the lakeshore.
“What did you do to Miles?” Erica demanded.
“Yeah, that dude is seriously mad at you,” Archie said.
Viking tugged Gavin quickly toward the lake. “I didn’t do anything to him, I swear. Everything was great last night.”
They walked, and Viking sniffed and peed, and eventually Archie and Erica wormed the truth out of Gavin, that he and Miles had gone out to a secluded spot at the lake and had sex.
“In the car?” Erica said, outraged. “Ew.”
“Been there, done that.” Archie held up his hands. “Not with another dude, though.”
“Yeah, you go on protesting,” Gavin said. “But seriously? Why would Miles be pissed? I thought we were going great.”
“Let me guess,” Archie said. “You positioned the rearview mirror so you could watch yourself?”
Gavin leaned over and slugged him in the arm. “Fuck you, asshole.”
“Don’t you punch me.” Archie jumped on Gavin, and they fell to the ground wrestling. Viking began barking. Archie was stronger, but Gavin was willing to play dirty, if he could just get a hand free to squeeze his cousin’s balls or pinch his nipples.
“Stop it, you two!” Erica said. “You’re going to get hurt, and that’s going to screw everything up.”
Gavin was on his back with Archie’s knee against his chest, and he held Gavin’s arms against the ground. Viking was down on two paws growling, and Gavin was worried that the dog might attack. “Uncle,” Gavin said.
“Not good enough,” Archie said. “Repeat after me. I’m a selfish, arrogant pussy.”
“You are, but what am I?” Gavin said.
Viking barked again and bared his teeth.
“I swear to God I’m going to kill you both,” Erica said. “Archie, get off him. And Gavin, shut your fucking mouth for a change.”
Archie backed off, wiping his hands together, and Gavin sat up. Viking came over and licked his face, and Gavin scratched behind the dog’s ears. “I’m sorry I punched you,” he said to Archie. “But what can I say? I’m an asshole, and I screw up everything I touch.”
“I might be just a little jealous of how easy everything comes to you,” Archie said. “But at the end of the day, we’re family, right?” He held his hand out.
Gavin shook it and then used Archie’s strength to pull himself up. “Right.”
They let Viking off his leash, and they walked along the lakeshore, toward the cluster of small cabins at the south end. The dog romped ahead of them, all his agitation forgotten.
“So how are we going to deal with this thing with Miles?” Erica asked.
“You have to talk to him,” Archie said. “Maybe it wasn’t as good for him as it was for you and he didn’t know how to tell you that.”
Gavin thought back to the night before. Miles hadn’t wanted any action himself. Was that because he’d lost interest in Gavin? What did that mean? How could they manage to work together? He called Viking and hooked up the dog’s leash, and they all walked back up to the house.
“I’ll take the dog,” Erica said, reaching for the leash. “You go talk to Miles.”
His parents had returned from town by then, and delicious smells were coming from the kitchen. Gavin turned down the hall to the studio, moving slowly, afraid to start something with Miles that might not end the way he wanted. But eventually he screwed up his courage and knocked lightly on the door frame.
“What’s up?” Miles asked.
Gavin stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. “Are you mad at me?”
Miles looked up. “Mad at you? For what?”
“You hardly talked to me all day. Even Archie and Erica noticed. They figured out that you and I are—you know—and they think maybe you want to break up with me but don’t know how to do it.”
Miles looked at him, then laughed. “What I don’t understand is how you can look as gorgeous as you are and still be so insecure.” He stood up. “Come here, you.”
“I’m not usually insecure. It’s just with you.”
Gavin walked slowly toward him, and Miles wrapped his arms around Gavin’s back. “I’m sorry if you thought I was mad at you. I’m stressed about how much work we have to do before the concert. And with so little time with Archie, I’m worried we won’t be able to make it.”
Gavin nestled against Miles’s shoulder. “Really? You’re not mad at me?”
“How could I be mad at you when we fit together so well?” He backed away. “Let me save what I was working on, and we’ll go for a walk, all right?”
A few minutes later, they were walking by the lakeside. The moon glinted off the water, and in the distance, Gavin heard rock and roll coming from the campground across the water.
“If we’re going to work together, none of you can take my critiques personally,” Miles said. “I want you all to be the best musicians you can be, and that’s going to take a lot of work, and maybe sometimes I’m not as polite as I could be.”
“But you don’t hate me.”
“Oh, Gavin,” Miles said and took his hand. They walked like that for a while, along the lakeshore, the two of them sealed up in their own world.
By the time they returned to the house, everyone else was sitting around the dining room table. Gavin and Miles slipped into their places and joined the family conversation.
When they finished eating, Gavin stood up to help clear the table, but his father said, “Gavin? A word, please,” and nodded toward the front porch.
He trailed behind his father. His dad didn’t get angry; he thought disappointment was a more powerful weapon. He’d said things like,
“I thought better of you, Gavin,”
and
“Is this the way we raised you?”
when the local cops picked up Gavin and a couple of his friends with an empty gallon jug of cheap wine, when Gavin and a couple of girls were caught skinny-dipping at the abandoned quarry outside town, when he was late to work at the dealership or had forgotten to mow the lawn as he’d been told.
“Your mother and I have never made you feel that your sexual orientation is something to be ashamed of, have we?” his father asked when they were on the porch.
“No, Dad.” Gavin looked down at the rough planks.
“And we’ve never criticized your friends or anyone you chose to date.”
Gavin sighed. “No, Dad.”
“Then why couldn’t you be honest with us about your relationship with Miles?”
“Because I don’t know what our relationship is,” Gavin said. “I like him, and I think he like me. And yes, we’ve…” He stopped and searched for a euphemism. “We’ve
dated
a couple of times.”
His father’s right eyebrow rose, as if he knew exactly what Gavin was trying not to say.
“But he’s totally serious about music, and I believe that he’s here because he likes the Sweethearts’ music and wants to help us get ready to perform.”
His father didn’t say anything, just crossed his arms over his chest.
“You saw the contract, Dad,” Gavin said. “That Miles gets the right to produce any music that comes out of this concert. He may be a guy, and we may be…involved…but he’s also a musician and a businessman. He wouldn’t be wasting his time up here just so we could have sex a couple of times.”
“He does seem very serious. And your grandmother is very impressed with him and his musical knowledge.”
“You’ve always deferred to Grandma Frances when it comes to music,” Gavin said. “That you’re the businessman. So you should be able to relate to that part of Miles.”
His father shook his head. “You have a golden tongue, Gavin. If you ever do decide to come work for me, you’d make a hell of a salesman.”
“If I decide to come work
with
you, Dad,” Gavin said. He leaned over and kissed his dad’s cheek, which was grizzled with five o’clock shadow. “Are we good?”
His father laughed. “You will always be my wayward son.”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” He gave his dad a high five and walked back into the house. Now if only his relationship with Miles could be massaged so easily.
Sunday morning, the grannies wanted to go to church, so the whole house piled into a couple of cars, Miles included, and drove into Eau Claire. They stopped at a pancake house after the service for a big, lively brunch, and Gavin was pleased at how seamlessly Miles had fit into his family. Gavin was conscious of his father watching Miles at first, and that put Gavin on edge, but then eventually they were all just enjoying their meal.
When they got back to the house, Miles asked to work with Archie on his own since they wouldn’t have much time together over the following week. Gavin went out to the porch, where he sat on a rocker beside his father.
“How is the music going?” his dad asked.
“It’s tough,” Gavin said, leaning back in the rocker. “We work really hard every day, but I’m not good enough to tell if we’re making progress.”
“What does Miles think?”
“He’s not telling us.”
“Well, he must think Archie needs extra help if he’s working with him today.”
“Honestly, it’s hard to get Arch to practice,” Gavin said. “He works all day, and by the time he gets here, he’s tired and cranky. I think Miles recognizes that he won’t get to work with him much this week.”
“You think he’d be better off up here until Labor Day?”
“It would sure be better for all of us,” Gavin said.
Then Gavin’s mother came outside. “I just got off the phone with Gretchen,” she said. She took her husband’s hand. “We’re going to be grandparents!”
“What do you mean? I didn’t even know she was seeing anyone.”
His mother sat in the chair next to his father. “Well, when I asked her who the father was, she wouldn’t say.”
His dad closed his eyes, and Gavin could tell, from long experience, that his father was doing his best to control his temper.
“She’s still our daughter, Richard,” his mom said.
He opened his eyes. “Of course she is. Though I have to say, I wanted to be a father-in-law before I became a grandfather.”
Gavin thought of the line from the Rolling Stones song—you can’t always get what you want—but for once, his common sense kicked in and he didn’t say anything. Instead he sat on the porch with his parents for a while, rocking back and forth and wondering what it was that he really wanted.