Are You Going to Kiss Me Now? (22 page)

“I just wish… I wish… if only you’d told me…” Joe said, kneeling down next to Jonah.

“I never thought I’d tell anybody,” Jonah mumbled quietly. “Including myself. I was scared. I’m a fraud,” he laughed with a sort of self-disgust.

“You’re a kid, Jonah. You’ve been told who you were supposed to be since you were eleven years old. Give yourself a break.”

Jonah suddenly lifted his head and looked directly at Joe.

“So you’re good with my being gay?” he said, his voice sounding suspicious, almost accusatory.

“I’m relieved,” Joe said. “I want to help you in whatever way I can. You never would let me help you in the past. There were so many walls around you. If one came down, another one went up to replace it. At some point I just decided you really wanted me to leave you alone. So I did.” Joe stopped for a second. “But I’ve always loved you. You’re my son. You’ll always be my son.”

“Aww,” everybody but me meowed together. I wasn’t there yet.

“Look, Dad,” Jonah said, wiping his tears and collecting himself. “I appreciate what you’re saying, but I just can’t help but feel like your acceptance is a little predatory.”

“Predatory?” Joe asked, jerking back with big, confused eyes. He looked hurt.

“I mean, now that I’m gay, you want to be my daddy? Just because I’m flawed doesn’t mean I need you. I don’t need you.”

“I know you don’t need me,” Joe said, smiling sadly. “And
I
don’t think you’re flawed, Jonah. You do.”

Jonah placed his head back between his knees and took some long, deep breaths. Joe studied him for a minute and then continued.

“I think you’re an incredible young man, Jonah, and I’d like the opportunity to know you better. That’s all,” Joe said, holding up his hands. “No ulterior motive.”

“Because I don’t need anyone,” Jonah started, but his voice betrayed him. Tears were pooling on the dirt beneath him.

“I know that,” Joe said, nodding his head.

“OK,” Jonah looked up, not even bothering to wipe away the tears that spilled over his flushed cheeks. “Thank you. Thanks.”

“Please, don’t thank me,” Joe said, choking on his own emotion. “We’ll try again, huh?”

Jonah nodded, swiping away the wetness with his forearm. I got the sense their relationship was well on its way to repair.

“Come here, son,” he said, holding out his arms. Jonah burst into tears as he made himself small in his father’s embrace.

“I love you, Jonah,” he said, tears streaming down his face. Jonah looked so young and innocent. It was like somebody had stripped off his protective coating.

“I’m so sorry,” he cried, heaving into Joe’s shoulder. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“You’re OK, Jonah,” Joe reassured him. “It’s all OK.”

“Mom will kill me. My career is over now,” Jonah said, trying to calm down.

“Hardly,” Chaz bellowed. “You’ll be huge. Huge! The gays
love
a new recruit…especially a closeted choirboy. My God, it’ll be glorious. I’ll get you on the cover of
Newcummers
, and you’ll never look back. Trust me, honey, the gays are soooo much more loyal than the Jesus people. And we’re obsessive. I saw Madonna sixteen times on her last tour. Sixteen times! I flew to twelve different cities in two weeks. Twelve cities in two weeks! Oh God,” Chaz put his hand on his chest dramatically, “I just had the best idea. You’ll do a reveal on
SNL
. You’ll be the Ambiguously Gay Christian.”

“That would be so fuuunnny,” Milan giggled.

“
Newcummers
?” Jonah shivered.

“I’m joking, Jonah,” Chaz explained. “We’re talking
People
,
Vanity Fair, Entertainment Weekly
,
GQ
. They’ll all be drooling to get the exclusive. Adam Lambert who?”

“Why don’t you be his manager?” Milan suggested to Chaz, half-joking.

“It’s not a bad idea,” Joe said, still hugging Jonah. “You’ll certainly need a new team, as it were.”

“I’ll do it!” Chaz said, clapping.

“Umm,” Jonah stammered, breaking his embrace with Joe.

“But he’s a blogger, not a manager. He has no experience,” Eve protested.

“If he does half the job for Jonah that Yvette Clarkson’s done for you, he’ll be fine,” Milan said. “He’s got the passion.”

“And I’m so over blogging,” Chaz said. “Please, Jonah. It will be such fun.”

Jonah looked at Joe, who smiled at his son approvingly.

“We’ll see,” Jonah finally said. “What about my fans, though? There’s just no way I’m not going to come off as a hypocrite and a deceiver. A sinner.”

“You’re allowed to change, Jonah,” Joe said. “Being famous at such a young age is hard because it doesn’t allow you to grow. Don’t let anyone put you in a box. Don’t let anybody or anything define what or who you are.”

“The new Joe Jangles Hallmark Collection,” Chaz announced. “Available at a stationary shop near you.”

We couldn’t help busting up again. Joe as a porn star
almost
trumped Jonah as a gay man.

“You know,” Chaz suggested to Jonah. “I think your going Jewish would be a nice touch too. The Jews love a gay as much as a whitefish bagel platter.”

“This has all been super-touching and everything,” Milan said. “But since we’re all ‘out’ now, as it were, why not just have Francesca go in there and tell Ned what he wants to know so we can blow this joint today. What do you guys say? What are we waiting for?”

“Me?” I squawked.

“I’m down with that,” Cisco said, looking at Milan with pride.

“It’s fine with me,” Joe answered. “Quite honestly it’ll be a relief to stop worrying about somebody exhuming my past.”

Chaz nudged Jonah.

“Yeah,” Jonah said, looking a little less convinced. It was one thing to tell us he was gay, quite another to make it a public confession.

We all looked at Eve, who was curled up in a tight ball of indecision wrapped in a ribbon of social pressure.

“I don’t know,” Eve started. “We could really regret it after.”

“Excuse me!” I said. “I’m not telling Ned anything. No way. If you all want to unload your skeletons, feel free, but don’t do it here…to Ned. Wait until we get back, like Chaz suggested. Use it to your possible advantage.”

They were all staring at me.

“And I’m most definitely not telling him anything,” I went on. “I feel bad enough about what happened. I am not going to be that person for the rest of my life. Screw Ned. Let him spin a fictional yarn out of those scraps. I have a better idea.”

“Well?” Jonah asked, gently taking my hand by way of an apology. It didn’t feel that much different from when I thought he was straight.

“Well,” I said, pleased with myself, “why don’t we just steal the plane? It’s so simple.”

“In cartoons,” Joe scoffed. “There’s nothing simple about it, Francesca.”

“But you know how to fly. It’s so obvious. We should just steal the plane when Ned is sleeping.”

Everybody looked at Joe.

“I can’t fly a seaplane,” he said.

“It can’t be that different from a regular plane.”

“We can’t all fit,” he added.

“You could go alone and get help,” I suggested.

“I’ve got no float training,” he said defensively.

“You can figure it out, Joe.”

I felt like we were in a verbal tennis match.

“I don’t know a thing about water rudders,” he said anxiously. “I can’t read water conditions, and there are no brakes on those things.”

He looked around at us and continued.

“And no runways or landing strips.”

“That didn’t stop you before,” Milan said, reminding him of our graceful arrival here.

“That’s very clever, Milan.”

“Well, you’re really not having a movie star moment here,” she said.

“I’m not Vin Diesel, for God’s sake,” Joe yelled, defending himself.

“What the hell’s a Vindweezel?” she asked.

“But really, Joe,” I interrupted, “all you have to do is land on the water…close to a populated area. You can bail the plane and swim, right? It’s not like you have to dock it.”

Joe started biting his nails. I’d never seen him do that before.

“No way,” he shook his head. “It’s too risky.”

“But I don’t understand why.” I was begging.

“Look, I still don’t know where the hell we even are. If I head out in the wrong direction I could run out of gas in the middle of the ocean.”

“We’d be no worse off than we are now,” I suggested.

“Speak for yourself,” he coughed nervously.

So that was it. Joe was scared. He was scared to fly again.

“Dad,” Jonah said, “I think you can do it.”

“I think I can, son,” was what Joe was supposed to say. “I can’t do it,” is what he said instead.

“But why not?” we whined, collectively irritated at his blah de vivre.

“The ignition key. I need the key!” he announced, sounding pleased that he’d finally stumbled on a real obstacle.

I reached into my back pocket and pulled out the key I’d swiped from the little bowl on Ned’s table.

“What’s that?” Joe asked in disbelief.

I held the key in front of him.

Joe didn’t say anything.

“Dad?” Jonah asked. “Is that the key?”

Joe looked at Jonah and reluctantly opened his palm.

“I’ll go with you,” Jonah said.

“Absolutely not. It’s too dangerous.” He paused for a minute. “I’ll go alone. But somebody better make damn sure Ned’s distracted until he falls asleep.”

“I’ll take care of that,” I said.

“How?”

“Trust me. I can do it.”

“Fine then,” he sighed, looking at me and standing up slowly. “At least you’ll all have somebody other than me to blame if it doesn’t work.”

I was elated. I was saving the day. My plan was going to work.

So your
boyfriend’s
a poof, right?” Ned asked, thrilled that I had come around. Dinner was over, and Ned was sitting in front of his computer like a greedy child waiting for a piece of cake.

“No,” I said, irritated at Ned’s perspicacity. How did he know? Was it that obvious to everyone but me?

“He seems like a poof to me. You sure?”

“Umm, yeah,” I said, pretending not to giggle. I was trying my best to smother my anger and channel my inner actress. “I’m 100 percent sure.”

“Ahhhh,” he smiled wickedly, searching my face for signs of deception. “No longer a virgin then?”

“No,” I shook my head.

“I see.”

“He wasn’t a virgin anyway,” I added. “Not really.”

“You mean since he converted?”

“I mean since he slept with Miley Cyrus. Can I have something to drink?”

“Jonah Baron slept with Miley Cyrus?”

I nodded again. I was having fun. Ned got up to get two glasses and filled them to the rim with tequila.

“When?” he asked, pushing the glass toward me.

“About a year ago. She gave him venereal warts. And he’s like OCD so it was really, really hard for him. He feels dirty all the time.”

He cringed as he downed his drink.

“And weren’t you concerned about it being catching and all that?” he asked, typing with one hand while refilling his glass with the other. There were drops of tequila dangling from his moustache like a terrier after a trip to the toilet bowl.

“Oh, he had it treated a long time ago. Keira Knightley made him take care of it.”

“Keira Knightley?” Ned asked. “Are you telling me Jonah Baron slept with Keira Knightley?” He stopped typing.

“He’s slept with like everyone. He’s a sex addict. He uses sex to express emotional needs through physical contact.”

Ned was quiet for a minute.

“And I’m going to help him with that,” I said, breaking what was becoming an uncomfortable silence. “I’m going to help him get better.”

Ned nodded. He was making me nervous.

“Mmm hmm. What else?” Ned asked. “What about him and Joe? Have they reconciled?”

“God, no,” I lied. “They hate each other. Joe denies even being Jonah’s real father. You know, that’s the underlying reason why Jonah is a sex addict. Hardcore abandonment issues,” I added meaningfully.

“And what about all the religious mumbo?”

“A ruse. Jonah’s an atheist.”

“Of course he is,” Ned started laughing. “What else, Francesca? Does Milan Amberson have a PhD in biochemistry? Is Cisco Parker a transvestite? Is Eve Larkin Joe’s illegitimate daughter from his affair with Michelle Pfeiffer?”

I didn’t say anything.

“I don’t like being lied to, girl. Do you think I was born yesterday?”

“Um, no, sir,” I stammered, trying to slow my heart rate down. “Really,” I added lamely. “It’s true.”

“Go on and get out. I’m done playing games. Out!” he yelled, pushing me out the door.

***

“Good job, Francesca,” Chaz said, standing over me like a schoolyard bully. “It went really well, I gather?”

“What happened?” Jonah asked.

“He didn’t believe me. I think it would have been better if I’d gone with the story about Milan.”

“Duh,” Chaz shouted, shaking with anger. “It’s
always
better to go with the story about Milan.”

Milan nodded. “When in doubt…” she pointed to herself.

“So what happened?” Jonah asked.

“Does it matter?” I felt mortified at my failure.

“It’s OK,” Eve said, coming to my defense. “She tried. And besides, as long as he doesn’t notice Joe’s gone, there’s still hope. Let’s see what happens.”

I couldn’t believe Eve was defending me. Maybe this whole experience had forced us to evolve—as individuals and as a group. Nobody was screaming or accusing. The general state of hostility and defense was disbanded. It felt like everyone was on the same team. Then again, maybe it was just useful to have a common enemy.

“I hope my dad’s OK,” Jonah said quietly. “I kind of feel like I pushed him into doing something he wasn’t comfortable with. Maybe it would have been better to just wait it out.”

“He’ll be OK,” I said without confidence, knowing full well that I’d be responsible if something happened to Joe. Chaz stood up and started pacing.

“The guy’s a pilot. He’ll be fine. Just keep your voices down and relax.”

“But what if he gets lost?” Milan asked. “It’s so dark. How is he going to see?”

“Shhh,” Chaz hushed her. “It’s called radar. He’ll be fine.”

“Who the hell does Ned Harrison think he is?” Eve asked. “Can’t he be incarcerated for holding us hostage?”

“He’s not holding us hostage,” Chaz quipped. “He’s just not facilitating our rescue. And besides, people with Ned’s kind of money don’t get incarcerated for anything but murder or tax evasion.”

“Still…” Jonah started.

“Look,” Chaz interrupted him. “It’s not his fault we’re here, just that we’re
still
here. It’ll be complicated to prove anything. He could claim we were trespassing.”

“What if he, like, tries to kill us all or something?” Milan suggested. “I mean, once he realizes Joe left with the plane, he’s gonna be so pissed.”

“Keep your voice down,” Chaz whispered.

“Let’s just hope for the best,” I said. “There’s still plenty of time. He’s only been gone about two hours, right?”

“Two and a half,” a sullen voice said, as a drenched male figure in a transparent, hooded poncho made its way toward us.

“Joe?” we all shouted.

“Shhhhhh!” Chaz snapped, trying not to attract Ned’s attention.

Joe was soaking wet, limping and cradling his left arm.

“You’re still here? Why haven’t you left?” Chaz whispered.

“I have left. I’m back now.” Joe was chewing on something tough. He had a wild look in his eyes.

“What do you mean you’re back now?”

“I told you I couldn’t fly a seaplane.”

“What the hell happened?”

“I couldn’t see a goddamn thing is what happened,” he said. “The water was choppy as hell. It was like trying to get a parade float off the sand.”

“Sshhhhh!” we all hushed him.

“Seaplanes?” he scoffed. “What a ridiculous idea.”

“Where’s the plane?” I asked.

“Which half?”

“Oh my God.”

“So Ned’s gonna know you messed with it?” Cisco asked.

Joe started hysterically laughing.

“Most likely,” he said, spitting something akin to tobacco out of his mouth.

“What happened?”

“Well, I managed to lift her up and level out, but then her nose hit the water hard and we doubled over.”

“And then?”

“Then the left wing snapped off.”

We gasped.

“And then,” Joe continued calmly, searching for the details like it was a joke he had heard years before but couldn’t remember how to word the punch line, “I managed to jump out before the fuselage rocketed back to the beach and flipped over.” He did a little hand gesture to mimic the rolling over of the plane.

“It was dramatic. I wish somebody had been there to see it. It could be worse. At least the cabin is docked, right? I mean, she’s actually right back where I started out from…only upside down now, with her pontoons in the air.”

“And wingless,” I added.

“And wingless,” he confirmed.

“So that plan of yours isn’t going to work after all, Francesca,” he said with satisfaction.

“What are you wearing?” Milan finally asked.

“A poncho from the first-aid kit. And here,” he said, throwing a bag filled with what looked like dog biscuits on the ground.

“What is it?”

“Dehydrated food. Jerky.”

“Oooh, jerky,” Chaz said clamoring for the bag.

“What happens when Ned sees his ruined plane?” Eve asked.

“He’ll be mad as hell,” Joe said.

“I just thought of something,” I said.

“Great,” Chaz said, tearing off a piece of beef jerky with his teeth. “Another nifty idea from Nancy Drew.”

“Maybe when you crashed Ned’s plane,” I continued, ignoring Chaz, “the black box sent a signal?”

“I don’t think sea planes have black boxes,” Joe answered.

“But it might have had one,” I said, ever the newly hatched optimist.

“Maybe. But the range is limited. Somebody would have to be looking for the plane to pick up on a signal. Nobody is looking for Ned’s plane.”

It was quiet for a minute.

“How do black boxes work?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Joe answered.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Chaz asked him scornfully.

“I mean, I don’t know,” Joe said. “I don’t know exactly how they work. Black boxes.”

“You don’t know how they work?” Chaz snapped again. “Maybe I’ll be a pilot
and
a novelist. Neither job seems to require a particularly large area of expertise.”

“Add acting to that list,” Milan laughed.

“Touché,” Chaz said, giving Milan a high five.

“Speak for yourself,” Eve jumped in. “The kind of acting
we
do,” she said, looking at Joe and Cisco, “isn’t easy. It takes years of training. Studying. Method.”

“Weren’t you like five years old when you made your first movie?” Milan asked.

“Three.”

“Right. And weren’t you a model before you became a Possum?” Milan asked Cisco jeeringly.

“Yeah, but I took classes.”

“Ooooh, classes,” Chaz mocked.

“Let’s not get at one another’s throats again, OK?” Joe interrupted.

“My only point,” Chaz continued, “is that none of us can do anything really useful. At least Francesca can cook. And I guess Milan can slaughter poultry.”

It was quiet for a few minutes before Eve cleared her throat to speak.

“This experience has been humbling. It’s almost like none of us exist without an audience.”

“Or people to boss around,” Milan added.

“Or deceive,” Jonah added thoughtfully.

“Yeah,” Cisco mused. “Or have sex with.”

“Hey!” Milan piped in.

“I mean, you know, having lots of people available to have sex with, no matter how I behaved,” he stammered. “Not that I want that now,” he added, looking at Milan lovingly. “I just got used to not having to work too hard for anything. You know, just showing up has always been enough.”

“I don’t mean to interrupt the psychological healing process,” I said, “but back to the box. Let’s go see if we can find it in the plane. Maybe we can do something with it?”

“Like decorate it?” Milan laughed.

“It’s better than sitting here all night,” Chaz said. “Let’s go. Maybe there’s more jerky…”