waist-high metal filing cabinet. I’d been planning on putting flower arrangements on top to brighten up the space. Ari opened the top drawer and took out a pistol I’d never seen before, ablue-gray thing that looked less lethal than the Beretta but lethal enough.
“Ari!” I snapped. “It’s my brother.”
“I know, but I’m taking no chances. Someone might be lurking behind them.”
I followed him down the stairs. When he opened the door with his left hand, Sean and Al both saw the gun in his right and put their hands up with a theatrical flourish.
“Er,” Al said, “if you’re busy or something, we could just leave. You don’t need to fire warning shots across our bow. Honest.”
“I just wanted to make sure it was really you.” Ari lowered the gun to point at the floor. “Next time, give us a ring before you drop by, will you?”
“You bet,” Sean said. “Can we put our hands down now?”
“Yes.” Ari cracked not a trace of a smile. “You’ve been vetted.”
We all trooped back upstairs, Ari first, for which I was grateful. I’d been afraid he’d herd us at gunpoint.
Al Wong and my brother Sean made a handsome couple, though Sean was so preternaturally beautiful, with his perfect features, wavy dark hair, and blue eyes, that Al tended to be ignored in the equation. In any other context people would have noticed him immediately, because he was as good-looking as any Hong Kong movie star. As it was, he got shoved into the background, which, luckily, he preferred to being on display. He tended to dress in flannel shirts and jeans, while Sean went for tailored slacks and beautifully cut shirts in fancy fabrics. That night Sean was wearing an emerald-green silk shirt with fawn slacks and a brown suede jacket cut like a sport coat. The color and sheen of the silk made his eyes glisten like sapphires.
“What brings you to our neck of the woods?” I said.
“The friends we were hanging with,” Sean said. “They live pretty close by. And so when I got your message, I thought we’d just see if you were home.” His voice shook as he continued. “Next time I’ll call ahead for sure. I know he’s a cop, but jeez!”
By the time we returned to the living room, Ari had putthe gun away. He flopped back down on the couch and turned on the TV sound. When Al noticed the basketball game, he shrugged out of his beaten-up canvas barn jacket, dropped it onto the floor, and flopped down next to Ari to watch.
“The Warriors,” Ari announced, “are losing badly.”
“They usually are,” Al said. “I wonder if Don Nelson will ever win that six hundredth game.”
Sean and I left them analyzing the team and went into the kitchen to talk. Sean took off his suede jacket and hung it over the back of his chair before he sat down.
“Mike told me you were worried,” I said.
“Yeah,” Sean said. “I used to get so damn scared when Dad would lecture us on how awful gays were. ‘Homos,’ he called us. I knew even then he was talking about me. Like, from the time I was maybe six I knew what I was. I was sure I was going direct to hell.” He forced out a smile. “Probably even before I died.”
“Well, Dad had a lot of strong opinions about a lot of things. That doesn’t mean he still does.”
Sean tilted his head to one side and blinked at me.
“We haven’t seen him in so long,” I continued, “that we tend to think of him as being exactly the way he was when he was arrested. But prison changes people and their opinions. Who knows what Dad’s like now?”
“Oh.” Sean considered this for several long moments. “I can see that, yeah. He’s had all these years away, and we won’t know what they’ve done to him till we get him home. Well, if we can get him home.”
“It’s going to be kind of a crap shoot.”
“I’ll just have to deal with it. If we do find him, we can’t leave him there.”
“Right. Besides, there’s Mom. They’ll have a lot of stuff to work
“Ari!” I snapped. “It’s my brother.”
“I know, but I’m taking no chances. Someone might be lurking behind them.”
I followed him down the stairs. When he opened the door with his left hand, Sean and Al both saw the gun in his right and put their hands up with a theatrical flourish.
“Er,” Al said, “if you’re busy or something, we could just leave. You don’t need to fire warning shots across our bow. Honest.”
“I just wanted to make sure it was really you.” Ari lowered the gun to point at the floor. “Next time, give us a ring before you drop by, will you?”
“You bet,” Sean said. “Can we put our hands down now?”
“Yes.” Ari cracked not a trace of a smile. “You’ve been vetted.”
We all trooped back upstairs, Ari first, for which I was grateful. I’d been afraid he’d herd us at gunpoint.
Al Wong and my brother Sean made a handsome couple, though Sean was so preternaturally beautiful, with his perfect features, wavy dark hair, and blue eyes, that Al tended to be ignored in the equation. In any other context people would have noticed him immediately, because he was as good-looking as any Hong Kong movie star. As it was, he got shoved into the background, which, luckily, he preferred to being on display. He tended to dress in flannel shirts and jeans, while Sean went for tailored slacks and beautifully cut shirts in fancy fabrics. That night Sean was wearing an emerald-green silk shirt with fawn slacks and a brown suede jacket cut like a sport coat. The color and sheen of the silk made his eyes glisten like sapphires.
“What brings you to our neck of the woods?” I said.
“The friends we were hanging with,” Sean said. “They live pretty close by. And so when I got your message, I thought we’d just see if you were home.” His voice shook as he continued. “Next time I’ll call ahead for sure. I know he’s a cop, but jeez!”
By the time we returned to the living room, Ari had putthe gun away. He flopped back down on the couch and turned on the TV sound. When Al noticed the basketball game, he shrugged out of his beaten-up canvas barn jacket, dropped it onto the floor, and flopped down next to Ari to watch.
“The Warriors,” Ari announced, “are losing badly.”
“They usually are,” Al said. “I wonder if Don Nelson will ever win that six hundredth game.”
Sean and I left them analyzing the team and went into the kitchen to talk. Sean took off his suede jacket and hung it over the back of his chair before he sat down.
“Mike told me you were worried,” I said.
“Yeah,” Sean said. “I used to get so damn scared when Dad would lecture us on how awful gays were. ‘Homos,’ he called us. I knew even then he was talking about me. Like, from the time I was maybe six I knew what I was. I was sure I was going direct to hell.” He forced out a smile. “Probably even before I died.”
“Well, Dad had a lot of strong opinions about a lot of things. That doesn’t mean he still does.”
Sean tilted his head to one side and blinked at me.
“We haven’t seen him in so long,” I continued, “that we tend to think of him as being exactly the way he was when he was arrested. But prison changes people and their opinions. Who knows what Dad’s like now?”
“Oh.” Sean considered this for several long moments. “I can see that, yeah. He’s had all these years away, and we won’t know what they’ve done to him till we get him home. Well, if we can get him home.”
“It’s going to be kind of a crap shoot.”
“I’ll just have to deal with it. If we do find him, we can’t leave him there.”
“Right. Besides, there’s Mom. They’ll have a lot of stuff to work
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