Unlike Any Other (Unexpected #1) (16 page)

1988

Within a few weeks, Chris bought an apartment in Seattle and passed his GED. The house became my dominion—the big room facing the sea became my library. My career had taken priority over everything else I had going on. In one year, I made four movies, two as an actor and two as a producer. My life continued to travel on the Hollywood road. I spoke a few times a week—if not daily—with Chris about his new life. He found a warehouse and converted it to the site of a recording company. I invested in it and continued handling his portfolio.

Around September, I received a script with a role I didn’t want to pass up—
Journey’s End
. The plot captured me. A terminally ill patient trying to fill his bucket list, mend his relationship, and find love before he died. After reading it twice, I had no doubt that taking on the role was the right step for my career. I had the money to accept roles that would demonstrate my abilities as an actor instead of searching for that part that would pay the bills until the next gig came along.

When I auditioned, they offered me the role right on the spot, and the next day I found myself with the casting director reading lines with who would be my leading lady.

Abigail Ritz, now with a darker shade of blonde, same green eyes, and a slimmer figure introduced herself before we began.

“I’m the same ole’ lame, flawless, dickweed,” I warned her.

“Lucky for me, I’m not in the middle of my period either.” She smiled at me, and something told me that perhaps everything that had happened before between us had been a trial. Some test to prove that we could last for more than the duration of filming the movie.

That night, like every night, I talked to Chris who, of course, had a good laugh at my expense.

“I think it’s fate,” I told him.

“You are a dork, college boy,” he chuckled. “I can see it –Gabe, the family man. In a couple of years, I’m going to be receiving the birth announcements. The pretty wife, the suburban home, the children, the minivan; all is coming together.”

“That’s a far cry from today, Chris. We’re just getting to get to know each other.”

“I’m right,” he insisted. “You might’ve changed a few aspects of your future plans, but not that. I understand; your family is nice.”

After I brought Chris home for the first time after his tour, he became part of the family. Each time I headed up for a visit, he’d come along. Like on the Fourth of July weekend when he met the entire Colthurst clan that included the famous Colthurst Olympics. Mom also invited him to spend Christmas and New Year’s Eve with us.

“One thing you should always remember: stay grounded; don’t let fame wash you away,” he warned me. “Now, back to what matters. Does this mean you finally get to bang Abby?”

I growled, not wanting to answer that question, his boundaries disappeared completely. I didn’t want him to give me a few pointers on how to make her a better fuck. He did that a few times while we had sex with the same girl. My cock hardened with the memories of those crazy weeks on the road. I hadn’t fucked since the night before Dreadful Souls’ last concert.

“I have to go learn my lines, Chris. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Yes, good luck with the shooting and the girl, Gabe.”

Production wouldn’t start until the next year, but I wanted to be prepared for the role. I’d have to drop more than twenty pounds in muscle in order to appear sickly.

I waved to Chris as he walked through the gate. He wore the navy blue parka Mom bought him, along with the scarf and hat she knitted for him. He wasn’t used to the cold of Seattle or the one we faced in Albany. The official fifty degree winter weather of LA became a sweet memory for the native Californian.

“Are you okay? His wide eyes scanned me from top to bottom and he squeezed my biceps. “You’ve lost a bunch of weight.”

For a careless bastard, he looked worried about me, and the fact that I could pass as a sick man made me smile. I had accomplished my goal. Mom had freaked almost the same way as he did.

“Remember I mentioned that I had to lose weight for the next movie?”

“Fuck the movie, you look sick,” he said harshly. “I personally don’t like it. Here I’m thinking that you’re about to tell me about some terminal illness and your impending death.”

He punched me hard on the arm and handed me his duffle bag.

“How’s Seattle?”

“Cold,” his eyes lowered half-mast and his lips formed a horizontal line. “I miss sunny California some days but the city is cool. Thank you for the jacket. I seriously hate to shop and had no idea what’d work for the winter.”

I shrugged and pointed toward the exit. My mother had been the one who bought the parka for him. I mailed it to Chris the moment I received it from her order. The woman liked him, and the fact that he didn’t have a family weighed heavily on her heart, I guessed.

“My parents are heading to the pond. They’re taking the grandkids ice-skating,” I told him as we climbed inside my sister’s Suburban. “I volunteered to help with the demons. Fortunately, only seven of them are coming over. The older ones think they’re too cool to follow tradition.”

Mom and Dad always took us ice-skating on Christmas Eve, right after we wrote our letters to Santa and placed them inside the special red mailbox, Mrs. Gunther built. Unfortunately, Mrs. Gunther died years ago and no one recreated the tradition of the mailbox. However, my parents kept the ice-skating custom with their grandchildren. The letters to Santa were my siblings’ jurisdiction and not theirs.

The perks of being the grandparents, they said.

“You Colthurst need to stop procreating,” Chris mentioned. “But yeah, ice-skating sounds cool. We can add it to the things I’ve never done and should try once before I’m too old. Next to traveling around the world and actually visiting places, not only arenas, stadiums, and hotels.”

“And skydiving?” He grinned and nodded.

I wondered what else would be added to that list in the future and how many of them would he end up doing. Traveling around the world without making any stops must suck.

“So when are you going to recover your health?” Chris questioned as I trekked through the ice packed roads. I certainly needed to visit my parents more often during this season to keep my driving skills up to date. “Because you look like shit.”

“We start filming the second week of January.” I parked in front of my parents’ house.

Chris whistled and shook his head, “You weren’t kidding about Christmas throwing up at your parents’ house.”

“Wait until you see it at night,” I warned him.

She had reindeers, a toddler-size nativity set and other decorations outside along with some greenery around the railing of the porch. At night everything light up. Then there was the inside of the house, mainly the banister and the living room. They had thousands of decorations that she had gathered throughout the years, plus the twinkling lights. My mother believed Christmas was synonymous of twinkling lights.

“Uncle Gabe,” my youngest niece, Claire came running to greet me as I opened the door of the house. “Are you ready to head to the pond?”

“Yes sweetheart.” I kissed the top of her head. “Let me show Chris his room and make sure he brings his winter gear with him. You can teach him to skate,” I lowered my voice, “he doesn’t know how to.”

She twisted her lips and eyed Chris up several times, then nodded before speaking, “I’ll take care of him.”

“Hi, Mrs. Colthurst.” Chris walked towards my mother and hugged her.

“I already told you, Chris, it’s Janine.” She patted his arm after kissing his cheek. “Are you coming with us?”

“I wouldn’t miss it, ma’am.” He tilted his head toward the guest room and smiled at her. “Let me take my bag to my bedroom—is it the same room?”

Mom smiled at him confirming that she had set him up in the same room as usual. He had her eating from the palm of his hand. My poor mother thought he was a proper, young man—that’s what she called him the first time she met him. The asshole had never cussed in front of her; if only she knew the real him. I bet she’d stop inviting him to every family holiday like she has been doing since she met him. I doubt she’d let him be so close to her precious grandchildren.

“I’m ready.” Chris didn’t take long. “I assumed jeans and the same gloves and jacket should suffice.”

Mom fixed his hat to cover his ears and tightened his scarf, “Now you’re ready. Maybe I can introduce you to a nice girl.”

I hoped that Chris wouldn’t laugh at her. That was my mother, always trying to play cupid and failing miserable.

1988

“That Stacy Henry your mother introduced me to.” Chris tied the laces of his rental skates. “Can I… fuck her?” He whispered the last words.

Translation—can she be a one night stand. I shook my head. Speaking Chris wasn’t easy, but after so many years, I was fluent.

Stacy was the daughter of one of my mother’s bookclub friends. Twenty-seven, single, and worked at the convenience store her parents owned. The sweet little thing weighed less than a hundred pounds, had the face of a china doll and ebony color hair to contrast her ivory skin. Pretty, but fragile. Not someone who would fit the fast and hard style of Chris Decker, and definitely a girl who was searching for Mr. Right. A real nice boy who would settle down. Chris would never be her Mr. Right.

“But that petite girl has a nice rack,” he grinned.

“What’s a rack?” Claire, my niece, asked. I slammed a hand on my forehead.

“Remind me to keep my children away from you,” I scolded him. “At least until they’re teenagers.”

“Probably a wise decision, Gabe, I’ll teach them about life when they’re old enough to understand.” Chris’s attention turned to Claire and he pointed at the blade of the skates. “This is a nice rack, sweetheart.”

“No.” Claire shook her head, her eyes narrowing on him. “That’s a blade.”

“Ah, I didn’t know.” He shrugged. “Thank you for correcting me.”

Elated, Claire took his hand and guided him to the ice. I followed behind them laughing at the smart, yet stupid way he handled his slip-up with my niece. At least he wasn’t crude with her and told her without filters that he meant Stacy’s breasts.

Chris and Claire walked around the pond a couple of times before Claire became irritated and told him to skate; that he had to glide through the ice and showed him how. Her attention to Chris disappeared and she joined her cousins.

“She’s cute,” Chris told me. “Makes me want to have one for like five seconds.”

Chris began to skate all by himself, and we joined the family. My nieces and nephews were being silly and began to play tag. Claire, of course, thought it was funny to tag the adults and who better than Chris to be her victim, as he didn’t skate as fast as the rest of us.

Of course, the moment she touched him, he lost his footing and I barely made it to catch him before he hit the ice.

“You okay?” I supported his weight as he tried to balance himself. His pale face and worried eyes scared me some. “I can help you to the bench.”

“No, I’m good.” He dusted off his arms. “I won’t break, dude.” He pushed me lightly and said, “By the way, you’re it.”

Chris sped away following Claire who laughed and pointed at me after Chris high-fived her. Damn they got me.

After an hour on the ice, we headed back home. None of the kids wanted to leave because Chris had been fun to play with. He promised to go again the day after Christmas, to which Mom said that he was on his own—unless I decided to join them. Which, of course, I would. I didn’t have much time with my family and when I came home to visit, I liked to spend every minute with all of them.

“What are you doing, Gabe? I’m making hot cocoa for everyone,” Mom said as we arrived and I headed to the kitchen to prepare some coffee.

“Yes, but I doubt Chris would like that.” I grabbed the filters for the coffee maker. “Plus, if you want him to last until after midnight mass, this is your best bet, Mom.”

Mom frowned as I continued with the task of taking a mug, filling it with some milk and a couple of spoonfuls of sugar, and then poured the coffee once it was ready.

“Janine, would you mind if I steal a cup of coffee?” Chris asked pointing at the pot.

“Wouldn’t you like some hot chocolate, son?” she responded with a question in that sweet mothering voice.

“No, thank you. I don’t like chocolate, Janine,” I handed him the mug with the coffee I finished preparing for him, and he took a few sips. “Heaven. Thanks, dude. I’m heading back with Claire. She’s teaching me how to play Candyland.”

Mom smiled at him and looked at Dad, who frowned at me.

“Who doesn’t like chocolate?” he sounded indignant. “At least he’s good with the kids. He’s going to stay away from that Henry girl, isn’t he?”

“James, don’t be like that,” Mom prompted him. “He’s a nice boy. You shouldn’t believe everything those television people say about rock stars.”

Yes he should and you too, Mom.
I almost said.

“Mom, it’ll be best if he stays away from Stacy.” I stayed one hundred percent behind Dad. “Chris isn’t moving here and Stacy isn’t a city girl.”

Dad gave me a light smile that Mom couldn’t see as she continued preparing the hot chocolate.

“How about you, Gabe?” Mom was about to give me the usual lecture. “When are you going to settle down with a nice girl?”

“Soon, Mom,” I lied.

So far, the department of nice girls in LA was empty, they had a waiting list and I decided not to put down my name on it. I hadn’t met anyone worth more than a one night stand. No, I still haven’t even fucked anyone since the tour. Damn, I needed to put myself back out in the market. At least get laid while I waited for the famous nice girl Mom swore would come around.

“One of these days I’ll surprise you,” I continued. “Maybe you’ll hear about it from the news before I tell you that I’ve found a nice girl.”

Satisfied, she smiled as she placed three small marshmallows and chocolate chips in the hot cocoas for the children.

“Someday soon you’ll bring your children home for the holidays, and we’ll take them to the pond,” she handed me a mug and smiled at me.

I wasn’t against the idea, but the word soon didn’t fit my plans or my life.