Page 58
Story: The Love We Make
“I think I’ll ask Jay not to tell Austin.”
“Nora.” Mimi puts her fork down. “It’s not a secret. At least, I’m not in the habit of keeping secrets from my kids. If Juan tells Austin, I don’t have a problem with that.”
“Okay.” For now, I decide to take her advice and not worry about it. I have work to focus on. Then, I have the expressions on Juan’s and Imani’s faces to look forward to.
“You met Ricky at the LGBT Center?” Mimi asks.
“Oh. Yeah. Ricky’s amazing. He’s so talented.” I lick my lips. “His eggs are to die for.”
“Was he a chef and you met him just as you were looking for one?”
“My previous chef trained him. Didn’t she do a wonderful job?” I look at my empty plate. I sure wolfed down those eggs. A workout with Marcy always has that effect on me.
“That’s extraordinary,” Mimi says.
“It’s really not. You know what’s extraordinary? That I get paid millions to act, to do the thing I love the most. To play this character for a few hours each day. That doing something like that earns me all that money while people like Ricky come to the Center with nothing. That’s extraordinary, because it’s not how things should be. So I help where I can. It’s only normal.” I shrug. “I throw a huge Christmas party at the Center every year. Just so that people who are away from their family can experience some of the Christmas spirit. You should come. Bring your family.” Maybe I’m getting a little ahead of myself. I’m not one for parties, but the LGBT Center’s annual Christmas bash is one of the highlights of my year.
“I’d love to.” Mimi takes a sip of coffee, then rests her gaze on me. “What about your family? Do you go home for Christmas?”
“Not usually, no. I spend Christmas with Juan and Imani.”
“Oh, you go home for Thanksgiving? Or does your family come here?”
“What? No.” What is this? Why do I suddenly feel as though I’m doing something wrong whereas mere minutes ago, Mimi was calling me, or at least my actions, extraordinary? “I told you. I’m not close with my family.”
“All right.” Judging by the disapproving look on Mimi’s face, it’s not all right at all. “It’s not my business. I’m sorry for prying.”
“My family’s complicated, okay? I’ll try to explain it to you some day, but I don’t have time right now.” I make a big show of looking at my watch. “I need to get ready.”
“Nora.” Mimi holds out her hand. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Family is such a big and joyful part of my life, I sometimes forget not everyone is that lucky. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’m a little touchy when it comes to certain subjects.” And I never promised this would be easy, I think, on the contrary. I take Mimi’s hand in mine. “If you play your cards right, I might spend Thanksgiving with you.” I run a fingertip over her palm. “As long as you realize I come in a package of three.” What am I saying? Surely, I’m overcompensating for being so imperfect in Mimi’s eyes earlier.
“And I come in a package with four children, their partners, and three grandkids.” Mimi catches my finger in her palm.
“Looks like fun times ahead,” I joke. What have I gotten myself into? Why does the first person I fall for in such a long time have to have such a large family? And what are we doing discussing Thanksgiving and Christmas after spending only one night together? I’m going to have to let Mimi take the lead on whatever this is because I’m out of my depth already and I have no clue what I’m saying or doing.
* * *
Juan’s jaw slackens. “I can’t believe you, Nora.” He jumps up, then sits again, encouraging Izzy onto his lap. “You slept with my boyfriend’s mother.”
“Don’t say it like that. You make it sound so sordid.”
“I’m going to need more wine.” Imani refills our glasses. “I’m so happy for you, Nora.”
“I sensed that this was coming.” Juan looks straight ahead, as though he’s genuinely stunned. “It’s not a surprise, really, yet it still shocks me.”
“It’s a shock to me as well,” I admit. “Honestly, I don’t quite know what to do with myself. I want to keep seeing her, but…”
“No, no, no.” Imani wags her index finger. “No buts, Nora.”
“Let her speak, darling,” Juan says. “This is my boyfriend’s mother we’re talking about. We have to take all the possibilities for drama into account.”
“Jay.” Imani’s tone is not one Juan will argue with. “This is not about you and Austin.”
“No, he’s right,” I say. “It is also a little bit about them.”
“Please don’t tell me I have to keep this a secret. That boy adores his mother. Mama’s boy doesn’t even begin to describe Austin. If Nora Levine breaks his mother’s heart, he might end up hating me for it.”
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