to meet you, Domingo,” Trevor said, sensing heightened emotion in the room but not recognizing the reason for it.
“Domingo’s an old friend,” Dan said after a moment.
“And former neighbour,” she added with a laugh, finally releasing Trevor’s hand. “We go back a long way. Way before your time.” She glanced up at Donny. “Or his.”
“Always proprietary,” Donny chided. “Have a seat.” He turned to Trevor. “What’ll you have? Domingo’s drinking a crantini. I’ve also got lychee and mango, if that’s of interest. Gin or vodka. Otherwise, there are the usual pernicious concoctions.”
“Summertime and the living’s fine,” Trevor said. “I’ll try a lychee martini. Gin, please.”
“Excellent,” Donny replied, before turning to Dan. “Et pour monsieur?”
Dan’s mouth twitched but nothing came out.
Donny rolled his eyes. “Right — you’ll have a beer, as per usual. I’ll see what I’ve got in the back of my fridge.”
He left the room.
Domingo looked at Dan, sizing him up in a series of visual snapshots. “It’s been a long time, Dan. It’s really good to see you again.”
“And you,” Dan said, hoping he didn’t sound as stilted as he felt. “It must be what … four, five years since you moved?”
“More than that. We last celebrated Ked’s eighth birthday together.”
“Seven, then. He turns fifteen next month.”
“There you are then.” Domingo’s eyes sparkled, as though everything were a source of merriment for her.
“Are you still with…?”
“Adele, yes. We’re still together. It’ll be twenty years next summer.”
“Congratulations. And the hair looks terrific, by the way,” Dan added, gazing at her white ruff. “When did you start dyeing it?”
Domingo gave him a wistful smile. “Not dyed, but thanks anyway. It’s the chemo, hon. It grew back like this.”
Dan made a little noise of helpless acknowledgment. “I’m sorry,” he said at last. “I hadn’t heard.”
“It’s all right. I didn’t tell anyone.”
Donny returned with Trevor’s martini and a beer bottle with a napkin tied deftly around its neck for Dan.
He picked up his own glass, raising it to the room with a nod. “To friends, old and new!”
Dinner was going well. The flames wavered and glowed brighter as evening came on. Donny leapt up from time to time to check on something or stir a pot, managing to perform both chef and host duties to perfection. A bocconcini and basil salad followed the gnochetti in brodo, a light, flavourful soup. They’d just started in on the risotto ai funghi — it was a decidedly Italian-themed evening — when Domingo asked about Lester.
“He’s gone home,” Donny said, matter-of-factly, though the forlorn look on his face told another side of the story.
Dan suddenly flashed back to Ked’s comment. He sat up in his chair. “Wait a minute. By ‘home’ do you mean he went back to his family in Oshawa?”
“Yes, he left yesterday. I haven’t told anyone yet.” He turned to Domingo. “I keep secrets too.”
Dan was floored by the news. “How did this
happen? Because this” — he looked around him — “this is his real home. I thought he knew that by now.”
Donny shrugged, avoiding eye contact with the others around the table. He would not betray his real feelings.
“Lester knows he’s always welcome here, but he’s turning sixteen next month and he misses his mother. Cow that she is.”
“Children always miss their mothers,” Domingo said sympathetically. “No matter who else we have in our lives, no matter how fortunate and blessed we may be, we have just one birth mother, and it’s important to get that relationship right.”
Donny’s eyes flickered. “Lester said something like that, only not quite so articulately. It turns out he phoned her on Mother’s Day. They’ve been in touch every other week.” He shrugged. “He misses her and wants to reconnect. It’s as simple as that.”
“Are you saying he’s gone back to live with them for good?” Dan asked, still struggling with the news.
Donny twirled his glass, looked away. “I am. He has.”
“What about the stepfather?” Dan asked. “Won’t he be a problem?”
Donny sighed and set the glass down. He gestured helplessly, as though to say there was nothing he could do. “I have no doubt you’re right,” he said, “but it’s not up to me.”
Dan recalled the garishly dressed, crudely spoken couple he’d met the previous year while working on a missing persons case involving a young man named Richard Philips. He hadn’t been at all impressed with the mother or stepfather, but the real dilemma came when he located the fifteen-year-old, rechristened Lester and working in the city’s porn industry with falsified ID. Dan was forced to choose between returning him to what was surely a terrifying and destructive life for a young gay man and finding a better place for him. Donny had stepped in to fill the breach, offering Lester temporary sanctuary, but ended up taking him in as a surrogate son, albeit covertly. The law was not on the side of runaways and their keepers, however well-meaning.
Dan looked at Donny. “What will he say about where he’s been living for the past year? Aren’t you afraid this might bring a lot of trouble for you?”
Donny shook his head. “He told her he’s been living with friends, but he kept it vague. It could have legal ramifications for me for helping him hide, but on the other hand I know the kid well enough by now. He’s not going to give them my name or address. He’s anxious to get back to school and not miss another year. He knows he’s falling behind. And in another month he’ll be legal, so he can return here any time to visit.”
“Your tutoring is probably far more valuable than anything he’ll learn in high school,” Dan snorted.
“Well, yes, I agree that everyone should know about Lennie Tristano and the history of jazz, but it’s not exactly going to guarantee him a job when all is said and done, is it?”
Dan put down his drink. “I don’t like it,” he said. “I met those people. They were horrible. As much as I might feel for a mother and child who’ve been separated, it was doing him no good to be living with them. That stepfather was a homophobic monster. The way he talked about Lester made me cringe and I hadn’t even met the boy then.”
“I know, I know,” Donny said. “I don’t like it either, but I have no choice.”
Trevor spoke up. “Maybe once he turns sixteen he can mention you. It might help his case with the parents
