“So buy one. Rocco left you a very wealthy widow.”
“Why should I spend Rocco’s money when they have perfectly fine orchids in the swamps? My granddaughter, Caitlin, told me that her science class grows the most gorgeous orchids in the swamps.”
“So you’ve made Caitlin an accessory to theft!” my mother declared. “You should feel very proud of yourself, Audrey. Very proud.”
“Anjanette, enough!” Audrey shouted, causing heads to turn at the Secaucus Diner. “Is it a crime to steal beauty? Is it? No, I do not think so. Now Steven, what’s wrong with you? You look unhappy.”
If Audrey was a criminal, she was a perceptive one.
“I’m fine. Just a little tired. We went out last night.”
“We as in you and your friends?” my mother asked. “Or we as in ‘Mother, I’d like to introduce you to my new boyfriend’?”
“Ma! Could you save the humiliation for when we’re alone?”
“Oh please, your mother tells me everything about your personal life. Nothing is sacred between us. I’m so glad your rash turned out to be nothing.”
“Waitress!”
Luckily the only thing my mother loves more than prying into my life is prying into her meal. She loves her food immensely, so while she ate I had a few moments to talk about the more superficial aspects of my life and make it appear as if everything was fine in the Land of Steven. I wasn’t sure if my mother was buying it, but the second I mentioned Lucas Fitzgerald and how excited he was to be part of their upcoming Christmas variety show, all thoughts of her son’s potential depression were overshadowed by her own thoughts of superstardom among the senior set.
“I cannot wait to see Paula D’Agostino’s face when Roger from If Tomorrow Never Comes starts to sing ‘White Christmas’ at my show. He will sing ‘White Christmas,’ won’t he, Steven? He knows how much we love that song, does he not?”
“Everybody loves Bing,” Audrey confirmed.
“Yes, Mother, Lucas knows ‘White Christmas’ is a deal-breaker.”
“Good. Paula is going to have a heart attack and drop dead before we serve the main course once she hears that. And she deserves it, after all the grief she has put us through.”
“You are so right, Anj,” Audrey said. “Between her size-four dresses, which I think are really eights if you want to know my opinion, and her friggin’ daughter….”
“Do not even get me started on her kid! I hate her!”
“Ma, what did Paula’s daughter ever do to you?” I asked.
“She has given her mother years of bragging rights! All that comes out of Paula’s mouth is how successful her daughter is because she works on the Today show. I thought for sure the show would tank after Katie left and then Paula would have to admit that working in the soaps isn’t such a dumb career move.”
“Paula D’Agostino thinks working in the soaps is a dumb career move?”
“Yes! She ain’t so nice anymore, is she, Stevie?”
“I never liked her,” I finally declared.
“That’s my boy.”
I had to admit that my mother was right. Maybe if I stripped myself of all social decorum and allowed myself to really listen to someone’s comments, I too could be insightful. But I would soon realize that even my mother didn’t know everything about everybody.
“Lenny, come join us,” Anjanette demanded. “Steven, this is Lenny Abramawitz. He, like you, is gay.”
As Secaucus’s only Jewish “out” senior citizen, Lenny Abramawitz had a certain reputation with the ladies. As he sat down and I got a good look at him, I realized he also had an old-fashioned reputation. Lenny was Sebastian’s ramgeezer.
Thank God I had already taken the last bite of my chicken parmigiana sandwich, so there was no danger of it getting lodged in my throat. But Lenny’s skin grew so pale the liver spots on his hands stood out like neon signs. If you connected the liver dots they would probably spell out I AM A DIRTY OLD MAN.
“Hello, Lenny,” I said. “It’s nice to…finally meet you.”
Sometimes acting as if you actually lived in a soap opera did have its benefits. I waited for Lenny’s response and something curious happened: Lenny acted like the perfect soap opera villain. He regained his composure, straightened his posture, and spoke in an affected whisper.
“Hello, Steven,” Lenny said. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s a pleasure to…finally meet you too.”
To paraphrase the soldier from Les Miserables, I was agog and I was aghast that Lenny mimicked my timing and paused before uttering the word finally while arching his eyebrow. The old geezer knew that I knew that he was a dirty old geezer, but he also knew that I was put into the age-old gay dilemma. Should I expose Lenny for the go-go boy–buying old fart that he was, thereby confirming what many already believed—that gay men were hedonists and only looking to flit from pleasurable experience to pleasurable experience instead of settling for a life of heterosexual misery? Or keep Lenny’s secret, thereby condoning Lenny’s morally questionable behavior? But who was I to judge someone else’s actions when only a few days ago I had run out on a man cursed with a minipenis and then fallen head over heels in love with a guy whose last name was still a mystery to me?
“Will you be performing any special acts in the Christmas show?” I asked.
“Why yes, I hope so,” Lenny replied. “Though I haven’t found the perfect costar yet. Would you like to audition for the role?”
I could not believe my ears. Lenny Abramawitz was coming on to me in front of my mother! If only I had Priscilla Presley’s smooth, expressionless veneer of a face, so it wouldn’t be so hard to hide my outrage.
“I don’t think that would be fair to all the others who could really benefit from your generosity. Mother tells me you’re a very giving man.”
“He is,” Anjanette confirmed. “Lenny was just telling us that he likes to help out young men of mixed-race descent who are having trouble financially.”
“We think it’s a beautiful thing,” Audrey added. “Something we would never do because we’re widows and cannot afford to be so generous, but a beautiful thing all the same.”
“And do you engage in such activity for purely altruistic purposes, Leonard?” I asked, “Or do you benefit from your generosity as well?”
“My only benefit is the joy of knowing I’ve helped point some young man’s head in the right direction.”
My chicken parmigiana gurgled violently in the pit of my stomach; the only direction Lenny wanted a young man’s head to go was south toward his withered dick. I choked out my next sentence: “That is a beautiful thing.”
Like two teenaged girls at their first boy-girl dance, my mother and Audrey left the table to use the restroom, leaving me face-to-face with Lenny. Horrified, I felt as if I was staring into the face of my future. If I didn’t find a man to share my life with I could end up living the life of Lenny Abramawitz: having sex with strangers and then lying about my escapades to Anjanette and her friends. The horror I felt worsened as I realized this was in some ways the life I was already living.
“What will it take to keep you quiet?” Lenny asked, cutting right to the chase.
“What makes you think anything can prevent me from telling my mother the truth?”
“I have a reputation, young man, that I do not want spoiled,” Lenny began. “I also have needs that I need to fulfill and I think you may have noticed that there aren’t a lot of romantic possibilities for me at the Salvatore