Page 52 of The Dramatic Life of Jonah Penrose
Jonah could feel his mouth hanging open as he looked at Dexter, his impression of a goldfish spot-on. “What the hell?”
“Typical Dad.”
“What a wanker.”
Dexter shrugged again. “Whatever. Let’s not talk about it.”
“It hasn’t upset you?”
“Do you want it to upset me?” He looked back at Jonah. “Is that what you want?”
“What? No. I just... thought you might want to talk about it? Didn’t he see you in it when you were at the Fringe or on tour?”
Dexter sucked in a sharp breath. “No. He didn’t. And good, too, or he would have seen me making out with another guy onstage. At least tonight he got to live out his fantasy of me being straight for a while. Good old manly Hector with his wife.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I didn’t come here to talk to you about my dad, though, Jonah.”
Jonah moved past him to go to the kitchen and flicked the kettle on. “Tea?”
“Jonah,” Dexter groaned as he followed him. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I didn’t say we had to,” Jonah said, grabbing two mugs from the cupboard then plopping a tea bag into each. “I’m just making tea.”
“Tea makes people talk.” Despite his words, he started opening the kitchen drawers until he came across the cutlery and handed Jonah a teaspoon. “I just can’t believe he didn’t even have the decency to stay until the end,” he said as he watched Jonah pour the boiling water into the mugs. “To get to my dressing room to see that message felt like he’d just come in and kicked me in the balls.”
“Is kicking people in the balls something that runs in the family?”
A small ghost of a smile made its way to Dexter’s face. “That was a genuine accident.”
“Yeah? And not knowing who I was... was that genuine?”
“No,” Dexter admitted. “I freaked out seeing you there and didn’t know what to do, and for some reason pretending I didn’t know who you were seemed like the best thing to do.”
Jonah raised his eyebrows as he stirred the tea. “So, the comment about how good Photoshop can be was just you being a massive dick?”
“Are you trying to say I’m like my dad?”
Jonah stopped and looked at him. “No, not at all. No offense, but he sounds like a homophobic idiot. That’s not you.”
“You know, he’s never met anyone I’ve dated,” Dexter said. “Even my long-term boyfriend. We lived together, his brother’s kids called me Uncle Dex. I really,reallyloved him, and I asked my dad time and time again if he would come meet him, or if we could go to him, whatever he wanted, but he always said no. He once said my sexuality was just a phase like my love for the theatre.”
“Jesus Christ, Dexter. Why do you still keep trying with him?” He handed Dexter some tea, and Dexter took it from him gratefully.
“Because he’s my dad.” He blew out air over the drink, the steam tickling his cheeks, then took a quick sip. “I told you tea makes you talk.”
“You started talking before you had any of that.”
“But it was in the room. The aroma got to me. It got me talking about my dad and my ex. Good times.”
“How sexy,” Jonah said with a wink. “Love a bit of dad and ex talk.”
“I don’t think you’re one to talk about things being sexy when you’re standing there in the baggiest pajamas and a cup of tea in hand. It’s hardly saying ‘come to bed,’ is it?”
“It’s saying exactly what I want it to say.” Jonah cupped his tea in his hands and leaned against the counter. “Aren’t you exhausted? After a two-show day, all I want to do is sleep for a week.”
“I think I’m high on adrenaline.”
“Was it a good first week, even with the shit from your dad?”
“It was amazing.” He smiled the smile Jonah was so used to seeing, his face as bright as the sun, beautiful, golden. “It would have been better if you were there, though. No one can kill me like you do.”
