Belonging by Alexa Land

in Marin that I
could use his help with. I’m trying to get the landscaping under
control around Tillane’s house.”
    “Really? Landscaping is part of your
job description?”
    “My job description is pretty vague.
Basically, I do Zan’s shopping and help out as needed.”
    “You don’t talk about this guy very
often. What’s he like?” Nico asked.
    “Stubborn. So very, very
stubborn.”
    “I love his music. It seems surreal to
me that you go see this huge celebrity twice a week.”
    “It’s funny, I don’t think of him as a
celebrity. I mean, I like his music too, but...I don’t know.
Somehow this guy and Zan the pop star don’t have a hell of a lot to
do with one another.”
    “The thing I remember most about Zan
Tillane is that he was fucking gorgeous.”
    “He still is, in this unkempt, ten
years past due for a haircut, only shaves twice a week, got his
wardrobe at a thrift shop in the Haight Ashbury kind of
way.”
    Nico grinned and said, “That could
still be sexy.”
    “If you’re into that sort of thing.” I
pulled the phone out of my pocket and shot a text to my brother,
then grabbed a mug and tossed in a tea bag. Vincent texted back a
couple minutes later and I told Nico, “He’s free and actually
excited at the prospect of doing some yard work. Apparently his
husband is taking their son to a birthday party today and staying
to help chaperone. I get the impression Vinnie was all too happy to
dodge the prospect of a day spent with sugared up
preteens.”
    “He’s an awesome dad,
though.”
    “Oh, he totally is, and he adores his
son. But that doesn’t mean he wants to spend the day at a bowling
alley with twenty of Josh’s hyper little friends.”
    “True,” Nico said.
    After finishing my tea and saying
goodbye to my cousin, I drove to my brother’s house. He and his
husband Trevor had bought a charming Edwardian on Russian Hill a
few months back. It had been fairly rundown, but they were
renovating it bit by bit. They’d already finished the outside,
painting it a pretty dark blue with white trim and creating a
gorgeous garden in the postage-stamp sized front yard.
    My brother-in-law opened the door when
I knocked and greeted me with a hug and a big smile. “Hey, Gianni.
Good to see you.”
    “You too, Trevor. My condolences on
spending the day at a bowling alley with a pack of junior high
kids.”
    “It could be worse.”
    “How?”
    “Last month we went to a karaoke
birthday party for a female friend of Josh’s. He and I were the
only guys at the party and he flat-out refused to sing, so somehow,
I got roped into performing all of Justin Bieber’s greatest hits.
Twice. I barely survived.”
    I chuckled and told him, “I would have
paid to see that. And Vincent made you go alone to that one, too?
How does he keep dodging these bullets?”
    “He always has a good excuse, and
that’s fine with me. To be honest, I enjoy these parties. The kids
are fun at this age. That’s why I volunteer to
chaperone.”
    “You’re a better man than me, Trevor,”
I told him. We’d been walking down the hall to the back of the
house as we were talking, and emerged in their sunny kitchen. It
was the first room they’d renovated, and it was clearly the heart
of their home. Since Trevor was a chef, they’d really gone to town.
Functional stainless steel appliances, including a massive
six-burner stove, contrasted nicely with rich stone countertops and
attractive maple cabinets.
    My brother and their son were sitting
at the breakfast bar. The kid turned to me and said in lieu of a
greeting, “Uncle Gi, are Legos a stupid present for a kid turning
thirteen?”
    “No. You’re almost thirteen and you
love Legos.”
    “But maybe I shouldn’t love Legos,”
Josh said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with an
index finger. “Maybe I’m immature for my age.”
    “Immature has to be the last word I’d
ever use to describe you,” I told him.
    He turned to Trevor and said,