The Gus Diaries
Part 164
The Sculptor II
“Nice job, Sunshine. You’re instructing me on how to act with special business guests while you’ve forgotten Mikey will be with us for dinner. While the professor will probably be the exemplary example you’re looking for, I’m not sure Michael will fit your elite criteria for appropriate behavior.” Dad tilted his head as he picked up his cup of coffee.
As it was a little late for the lunchtime crowd, the Liberty Diner was quiet, but Pop had gotten sidetracked at the gallery talking to Andrew.
“Shit! Do I really come across as stuck up and stuffy as you’re making me sound?” Pop covered his face with his hands and lowered his head.
“You make Lindsay look like she was raised in a barn with Auntie Em and Uncle Henry as her examples of the most prim and proper.”
“Wow, Dad, a Wizard of Oz reference. You’ve been hanging out a little too much on Liberty Ave. today.”
Dad raised an eyebrow as he looked in my direction. “Now that you’re grown up you’re getting to be quite the smart ass.” He pressed his tongue against the side of his cheek. “Besides, I met with Emmett for a few minutes after Michael and Ben took off. The effect is lingering.”
I chuckled.
“And to answer your question, Justin, you’re acting as snobbish and country club elitist as I’ve ever seen you. Take a deep breath and face the fact that although this guy is talented, he also likes Rage and the writer of Rage will be at the dinner table. We can call it a night of mixed media.”
Pop snorted. “Got it, a sculptor, a painter, a comic writer, an author, an ad man, and a news reporter.”
“Jeff will feel left out of the loop,” I piped in.
Dad snorted. “He’ll be the sane one at the table.”
“I’m glad you think so, Dad.”
“If I didn’t I would never have let him put that ring on your finger.”
I smiled at Dad, but was wise enough to refrain from saying another word.
Kiki approached our booth. “What’ll you have, boys? The chef says the triple cheese burger is to die for.”
Dad laughed out loud. “There is so much wrong with that sentence I can’t begin to enumerate.”
Pop grinned, as did I.
“First of all, the chain smoking person, and I use the term person loosely, in the white apron is as far from a chef as you can possibly get. I might accept the title cook, but not when he’s preparing artery hardening meals like triple cheese burgers, which are not only to die for, but will be responsible for the imminent death of anyone following the eating of said dish of grease.”
I was pretty sure Kiki tuned Dad out after first of all, but she stayed and pretended to listen.
“With that said, I’ll have a turkey burger, no cheese, with lettuce and tomato.”
Although I bet he was tempted to order the triple burger, Pop ordered a single cheeseburger and fries, as did I.
While we were ordering Dad phoned Uncle Michael. I could hear him cheer over the phone about meeting a Rage fan, who also happened to be famous in his own right. I was beginning to wonder if Pop had a point about keeping certain people apart, but it was too late now.
The other question on my mind was brought out into the open by Dad.
“So, Sunshine, who’s this newly out-of-the-closet partner of the famous artiste?”
“You know, Brian, I forgot to ask his name. I was so thrilled when Andrew agreed to come for dinner; it didn’t dawn on me to find out the name of the guy. Whoever he is, he’s a fan of my work. According to Andrew it was his partner who sent him to seek out a show at the Taylor-Bloom Gallery.”
“It’s interesting that this guy is such a fan, yet he didn’t show up to help set up the exhibit with Andrew. One might think he was afraid to meet you.” I noticed Dad’s brow furrow. He wasn’t joking around anymore. He was concerned, or at the very least suspicious, although I’m not sure of what.
“Maybe he’s in awe and was nervous about meeting me.”
“It’s a good thing you’re as good at stroking your ego as you are stroking other things.” Dad smirked.
“Dad!”
“Sorry to offend your sensitive ears, Sonny Boy, but if you’re an adult gay man, there are some things I no longer have to censor in front of you.”
I wasn’t sure if that piece of news should be welcome or if I needed to purchase the industrial sized bottle of brain bleach.
Fortunately my mind was cleared when Kiki placed our food in front of us and we all dug in. It wasn’t bad, but Dad was right about one thing -- the guy in the kitchen is definitely NOT a chef.
*~*~*~*~*
Pop was checking everything on the dining room table, making sure it was set perfectly. You would have thought we were entertaining the President of the United States or visiting royalty from another country instead of a fellow artist. I understand wanting to make a good impression, but it made me realize just how little Pop absorbs about how famous he has become in the art world. He once told me he sees himself first and foremost as a proud family man, with an incredible son and an amazing partner. I guess those weren’t just empty words. It kind of makes me think about all those people who think, because they have a talent, they’re better than the rest.
“Justin, calm down. Everyone will love the food. Emmett arranged for one of his minions to serve and clean so we can entertain.” Dad glanced out the window. “Michael and Ben are pulling into the driveway. I even told them to park in front of the garage so your honored guest could park directly in front of the door.”
Pop wrapped his arms around Dad and rested his head against his shoulder. “I know I’m acting crazy. Thanks for putting up with me. I just want everything to go perfectly so Gus gets a great interview and the Taylor-Bloom Gallery can draw big names without any major effort in the future.”
“That would give you more time to paint, wouldn’t it?”
“I could use some more time in the studio. My hand’s been steady and I have so much I want to put on canvas but so little time lately.”
“I wondered if it was something like that.”
Pop looked up into Dad’s eyes and the two pressed their lips together. It appeared so chaste, yet I could tell from years of watching them, it was a deeply passionate kiss. I started to leave the room to give them privacy, but at that moment the doorbell rang.
Dad broke from their embrace to open the door. “Mikey, Professor, glad you found your way.”
Uncle Michael smiled. “If you’d invite us more often we wouldn’t need to set our GPS every time we head out this way.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Wouldn’t want your app to wear out prematurely.”
Uncle Ben laughed. “We don’t want anything to wear out prematurely.”
“Good one, Professor. I’ll file this away as a moment you were witty. Maybe I’ll even steal that line one day.”
“Anytime, Brian.” Uncle Ben approached Pop. “We just saw a large rental SUV turn onto your street as we parked. I think the sculptor and his partner are just about here.”
Uncle Michael chimed in. “I can’t believe someone so famous is a Rage fan.”
Pop shrugged but Dad nudged his shoulder and grinned. “May I remind the two of you that a Hollywood Director was, and still is, a huge fan of your work.”
“Michael, have you heard from Brett recently?” Pop asked.
“You won’t believe this Justin. He actually sends me emails regularly. I think he still has dreams of bringing Rage, in some form, into the mainstream world.”
“I wish him good luck with that.”
Before the conversation could go any further, the doorbell rang again.
“Well, Sunshine, I think this one is, without question, for you.” Dad gestured for Pop to open the door.
All of us took a couple of steps back to make room for Andrew Carson and his partner to walk into the foyer.
Pop opened the door. “Andrew, it’s great to see you again. I’m so glad you could make it, and I know Gus is looking forward to interviewing you later this evening.”
“Thank you. We’re pleased to be invited into your beautiful home. It makes quite an impression from the outside.”
Dad chimed in. “It’s not too shabby from the inside either.”
Without missing a beat, Andrew’s partner turned around. “I’m sure it’s everything money can buy, Brian.”
All of us stood frozen to our spots.
Dad broke the silence. “Ethan Gold, I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I just bet you didn’t, but as you know I’m a big fan of your partner.”
“He’s my husband, but I’m sure you know that.”
Pop glanced from Ethan to Dad and back. He bit his lip before speaking. “Why don’t we all go into the dining room, there’s a great dinner waiting for us.”
Andrew looked directly at Pop. “Justin, I get the feeling you’ve met my partner, Ethan, before. Oh, wait, you two must have attended PIFA at the same time. You wouldn’t know of course, once Ethan finished his run in New York City, he signed a one year contract with the Pittsburgh Philharmonic. That’s how we found out about you and your gallery.”
Dad murmured so only Pop and I could hear. “I’ll just bet it is.”
As Uncle Emmett once taught me, this is a circumstance where, in the words of the immortal Bette Davis, I think ‘Fasten your seat belts. It’s going to be a bumpy night.’ is very apropos.
[TBC]
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