Page 44 of Counterpoint
“You said you wanted to know about California.”
Dominic nodded. “If you’re fine with that.”
More or less. “I was born here. I grew up in that house.” He gestured in the direction of his home. “And back in the ’80s, this wasn’t the neighborhood it is now.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard. And I guess the gentrification pushed a lot of people out.”
It had, and that grated on Adrian, even though he was, in part, also part of that process. “My granda bought the place in the ’50s, and my folks held on to it, but it needed so much upkeep and so many repairs. It wasn’t in the greatest of shape when me and my siblings lived there.”
Dom stopped. “You have siblings?”
Adrian turned toward Dom. “Two brothers and a sister. I’m actually the youngest. And the one who stayed—well, came back.” He held out his hand, and Dominic took it.
“I’m an only child.” His voice was soft. “Do you get along?”
“We did. Things are strained now. I’m hoping they’ll ease up in the future.”
“This is a longer story than just why you went to California and came back, isn’t it?”
Adrian laughed. “Oh yes.” Years and years in the making. “Money. Religion. Wealth. A prodigal son. It’s practically biblical.”
“Jesus.”
“Him, too.”
Dominic swallowed a laugh.
Adrian gave his hand a squeeze and contemplated where to begin, because like the knot-work on Dominic’s arm, the story looped and tangled in on itself. “As you might imagine, my parents were Catholic and devout, and we were raised as such.”
“Oh shit. And you’re queer.”
Oh shit, indeed. “Yes, that’s part of it. Didn’t help that my second oldest brother, Patrick, went off to become a priest.” The light of his parents’ lives, or so he’d thought. “I idolized him when I was young. Thought about going into seminary myself.”
“You didn’t!”
“Well, no. I didn’t. Especially when I realized what the Church said about people like me.” He waved a hand. “Yes, they dress it up pretty, and yes, there’s a faction that doesn’t believe queers are sinners, but doctrine is doctrine, and you can read that we’redisorderedright on the Vatican website, so...”
“I probably shouldn’t interrupt, or you’ll never get it out.”
Nowthatwas true. “It’s a mess, Dominic. I’m not sure I can explain it all, but I’ll try to take the most direct route.”
He launched into it. His eldest brother, Sean, had gone into the military, Patrick had become a priest, and Moira married a rather well-off investment banker, all before Adrian had gone to college.
“I was essentially an ‘oops’ baby.”
“So you kind of grew up alone, too.”
“I suppose in a way. They were around for my early years, but were gone for the later ones. Mainly, I was my mother’s baby boy. My father’s, too, for a while. He worked in construction, on the white-collar end. Management. Finances. Still, with four kids, he also worked a job at a diner as a cook—one of those twenty-four-hour types.”
“City that never sleeps.”
Adrian gave Dominic’s hand a little squeeze. “It meant that I didn’t see Dad as much as Mom, and thing were always a little strained between us.” Awkward and tense, as if his father hadn’t known what to do with the quiet child he’d sired. The one who devoured books, was good with computers, and tied up every single one of his GI Joes.
“Patrick and Sean had both been into sports. I was a nerd. Dad didn’t know what to do with me on weekends, since his go-to activities were things I only tolerated.”
They passed one of the many coffee shops that had sprung up in Brooklyn, though this one wasn’t as pretentious as some of the others. Dominic slowed. “Can we stop in? I think I need some more caffeine. And strangely, I’m a little sore this morning.”
Adrian pulled Dominic close and kissed him, right outside the door. “I can’timaginewhy that would be. And yes, let’s fuel you up.”
