Out to Lunch (29 page)

25

I
want to thank everyone so much for coming,” I start, looking around the small restaurant at my nearest and dearest. Noah, adorable in a tiny sportcoat and tie, holding his champagne flute of sparkling grape juice with total seriousness. Wayne has an arm around his shoulders, and is beaming at me. They’re sitting with Benji and his date, Jordan. Apparently when Jordan came in for his business a few weeks ago, Wayne took him to the Library and he and Benji hit it off. Newly out in Indiana, Jordan is apparently much more at ease with himself here in Chicago, and it turns out the conference he was attending was also something of a job interview. His firm is moving him here in a month, and he and Benji seem to be looking very much forward to living in the same city. Ever the one for dropping bombs, we discovered this last night when Jordan arrived at Wayne’s for dinner and promptly announced he was going to be staying at Benji’s instead. That kid is full of surprises. Aimee would approve enormously.

Andrea and Law are sitting with Lois and Eloise, everyone else scattered around at the small tables, flutes of champagne at the ready. And in the corner, next to the empty seat that is mine, Elliot sits, smiling at me, and making my knees go all wobbly.

“I just want to say that the people in this room have all done their part to help me get through the past three years, and especially the last six months, and I want to thank all of you.” I turn. “Especially Wayne.” He blushes, and his eyes go a little shiny. “Everyone, enjoy this spectacular meal, Chef Foss and his team are incredible, and very welcoming, so as we go, feel free to wander into the kitchen and ask them questions or see if they need a hand.”

“Or a drink,” the chef pipes in.

“Hear, hear,” his brigade yells out.

“To Aimee,” Andrea says, raising her glass.

“To Aimee,” we all say, sipping.

I return to my table, where Elliot is chatting with Alana and RJ.

“Lovely toast,” he says. Both he and RJ, ever the gentlemen, stand as I arrive, and Elliot pulls my seat out for me.

“Thank you. Public speaking, as we know, is not my thing,” I say.

“Are you sure?” Alana says. “I’d love to have you on
Abundance
one of these days.”

“We’ll see.” Television scares the crap out of me.

“You should do it, Jenna; it would make for a terrific show,” RJ says.

“I would watch,” Elliot says. “Even if space travel is not involved.” He winks at me. My heart skips a beat.

“You like El-li-ot.”

And so I do. So you can imagine how infuriating it is that he has not made a SINGLE romantic move on me. I thought for sure when we had dinner the other night to debrief about the party, he would go for it. We were at his house; there was wine and candlelight. But same as always, he and Teddy drive me home, he walks me to the door, and kisses my cheek or my forehead.

“You have to make the first move.”

Never gonna happen.

“Fine, stay unkissed.”

“I’ll think about it,” I say, if for no other reason, to shut up the Voix.

The first course arrives, a riff on bouillabaisse, with a deep-fried mussel-stuffed zucchini blossom, a small square of seared rockfish, a crouton topped with rouille, that garlicky red pepper–infused aioli that is the traditional topping, all in a small puddle of saffron-infused fish broth. And we are off to the races.

* * *

C
an I get anyone anything?” I ask Elliot, Benji, and Jordan once we get back to my place. Jordan was eager to meet Chewbacca after hearing all the tales from Benji, so Elliot sent Wayne and Noah home with Teddy, and the four of us took the car I arranged for Benji back to my house. “Tea?”

“I’d love some tea, thank you,” Elliot says.

“Me too,” Benji says.

“I’m good, thanks, Jenna,” Jordan says, wrestling on the floor with Chewie, who has already eaten half Jordan’s shoelace, covered his coat with slime, and given his knee a thorough sexual violation.

“You stay, let me get it,” Elliot says, realizing that perhaps Jordan might want a minute alone with me. “Ben? Give me a hand in there?” Elliot moves his head in the direction of the kitchen and the two of them head that way.

“Jordy,” I say. “I’m excited you’re moving to Chicago. And you know, if you need a place to stay while you figure out neighborhoods and stuff, you are welcome here.”

He smiles wanly. “You and Aimee were the only ones who ever called me Jordy.”

“Do you hate it?” I ask, thinking of Wayne calling me Jenny against my will.

“Nah. I always liked it. And thanks for the offer, but I think I’m going to stay with Wayne. At least for the first few months. He asked, and I think it will be better for us both. He seems like he could use the company.”

“That’s very sweet of you. I’m sure he would love to have you around for a while.”

He pauses. And despite my natural inclination to fill silence with noise, I let him percolate. Finally he looks up at me. “I miss her. It’s weird, I mean we weren’t that close, not really, but I always felt like she was the one in the family that really got me. She always looked at me like she knew the contents of my head.”

“She loved you very much. And she always hoped you would move here.”

“Yeah, she said that once, when I was in college. If I ever wanted to come here to live, I could stay with her as long as I wanted.”

“She was very proud of you.”

“Yeah.” His eyes fill with tears. “I talk to her. Is that crazy?”

“Not at all. I talk to her all the time. Every day.” Suddenly this doesn’t seem so insane.

“It’s weird, it’s like she’s my conscience or something.”

I nod. “I know what you mean. I call it the Voix. Like the voice of god. She’s in my head.”

“I like that. The Voix. She would love that, all French and everything.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“I feel like whenever I’m scared about something or making a decision, she’s like both the angel and devil on my shoulders.”

“For me too. She’ll always be with us. And Jordan, she would’ve been very proud of your coming out, how you handled it with the family, your being brave enough to be yourself.”

“She’s the only one who knew. I told her when I was in high school.”

I’m shocked. I didn’t think there was anything in the world Aimee ever kept from me, but she never shared this. “She never told me.”

“I asked her not to. I wasn’t ready for it to be anything major, I didn’t want a cheerleading squad, no offense.”

“None taken. You’re right. If I had known, it would have been impossible to prevent the two of us from trying to get you to come here and go dancing at Berlin and try on our clothes,” I tease him. He laughs.

“It does make me feel better to know she kept my secret. I mean, I know she told Wayne. But I expected that, considering.”

That bastard. What a faker at Christmas, and on the way home, acting all surprised. “Considering what?”

“You know, how they were. So connected. In tune. In love.”

“True enough.”

“I didn’t like him at first,” Jordan admits, almost sheepish. “I was a freshman in high school when they got married, had barely figured out I was probably gay and certainly had no idea how to deal with it emotionally. Wayne just reminded me of all the guys in my high school that were the reason I was staying firmly in the closet.”

“I can see that.”

“And he was a little weird.”

“Still is.”

“But the thing is, I don’t know anyone with a bigger heart. I always used to hang back at holidays, you know, they reminded me of Mom and Dad, and I used to feel very guilty about how little I actually thought about them, how fuzzy my memories were getting. And Wayne would always come find me, figure out something to do away from the bustle, we’d offer to go pick up last-minute stuff, or he’d say he needed a burger and ask me to go with him. He was always really good about sensing when I needed to get away for a little while.”

“That sounds like Wayne.”

“Of course, then he’d come home and knock over the punchbowl of eggnog into the fish tank.”

“He only did that once.” I laugh, remembering.

“Poor fishies,” Jordan snorts.

“You seem to be doing okay. But if you ever need anything, anything that you would have gone to Aimee for, I hope you know you can come to me.”

“Thanks, Jenna, I know. And I will. Promise.”

He gets up off the floor, and comes over and gives me a hug.

“So you and Benji?” I ask.

He blushes. “Early days. We’re getting to know each other. I like him. He’s a very good cook.”

“I’m delighted for both of you.”

“Tea for four?” Benji says, carrying a tray back in from the kitchen.

“We brought one for you just in case, Jordan,” Elliot says.

“Well, if you all insist,” he says, taking a mug.

The four of us sip our tea, Elliot and I on the couch, Volnay snuggled between us, Benji and Jordan on the chairs facing us, Chewbacca on the floor demolishing a plush toy like it hurt his feelings. We wax poetic about the meal, about how much fun everyone had, especially when we sent some bourbon back to the chefs and we all got in the kitchen to play.

“I have got to figure out how they did that PB&J dessert. That was INSANE,” Benji says.

“The chef says you are welcome to stage there when you are done at Conlon,” I say, having arranged that for him earlier.

“Seriously?! Jenna, that ROCKS!”

“Well, I expect it to be easier to get reservations in the future.”

Suddenly he and Jordan both get very quiet. Elliot nudges my hand.

“Um, guys, if you want to take the car, I know it’s been a long night. I’ll have Teddy come fetch me,” Elliot says, giving the youngsters an opening to leave.

“Thanks El, that’s awesome,” Benji says, jumping up.

We all get up to say good-bye, sending them off into the night. Elliot comes back in to help me tidy up.

“He seems okay,” Elliot says.

“Jordan? Yeah. I think he is.”

“Is it weird to see him with Benji like that?”

“A little. But good weird.”

“They are sort of adorable together.”

“Yeah, they are. Young and pretty and new.”

“Well, young isn’t anything to be excited about. New either, when you think about it.”

“I suppose.” I look over at him. He’s wearing dark jeans, a blue button-down shirt under a sweater vest. His hair is feathered perfectly, shiny clean. He’s washing out the tea things in my sink, and I like the way he is so at home here. Now if only he would just kiss me already!

“No supposition about it. Would you go back? Be twenty-three again? You couldn’t pay me enough to even consider it.” He laughs.

“I suppose.”

“So,” he says, turning to me as he wipes his hands on the dish towel. “Where are you with the whole business plan? Do you think you are going to do this with Wayne?”

I sigh. “I change my mind ten times a day. On the one hand, I do genuinely believe in the potential of the idea. On the other, it is a tremendous amount of work, and I don’t know if I’m really up for the energy it takes to have a start-up. When I launched Fourchette, I was twenty-four. I don’t know if I’m up for all of that again. And Wayne and I have finally seemed to figure out what we are supposed to be to one another; it hasn’t been easy. I’d genuinely hate to go into business with him and have that screw up our friendship.” I can’t believe those words just came out of my mouth, and even more than that, that I really mean them.

“But?”

“But, it would be nice to feel productive again, to have someplace to go, problems to solve.”

“To be cooking again, literally and metaphorically.”

I smile at him, this odd man who somehow really gets me. “Exactly.”

“Well, I know you’ll figure it out.” He looks at his watch. “Pumpkin time for me. I’m going to call Teddy.” He wanders out of the kitchen to make his call. And as much as I want to yell out for him to stay, to follow and grab him and kiss him, my feet are cement, my tongue lead.

Elliot comes back into the kitchen. “You’ll have me out of your hair in ten minutes.” He smiles.

“You aren’t in my hair.” My heart, maybe.

“You’re kind to say so. And I know that we’ve just eaten half of Chicago tonight, but I’ve been having a craving for my Burgundian stew. It’s a long, slow cook. Thought if you were up for it I’d grab the makings in the morning, bring them here and we could cook? Maybe watch an old movie while it simmers?”

“Absolutely, I’d love that.” Thinking of the two of us all morning in my kitchen, cooking together, hanging out all afternoon while the house fills with homey scent. Eating together. And suddenly I think that maybe, after a whole day together, maybe one of us will have the courage to take things to the next level.

“Great! And it makes a vat, figured I’d invite Wayne and Noah to come eat with us, there’ll be plenty if you wanted to include anyone else.”

Sigh. So much for romance. “Sure, that would be great. I’ll see if Andrea and Law want to join us.”

“Great.” I hear a dim honk outside.

“My coach is here.” We walk out onto the porch together and Elliot slides his coat on. “Good night, Jenna. Thank you for everything. I’ll see you around eleven tomorrow.” He leans in to kiss my cheek, and suddenly a totally-out-of-nowhere uncontrolled force spins my head around, and I catch his lips on mine. And I lean into the kiss, just enough to make him know that I’m kissing him on purpose.