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Authors: Dennis Frahmann
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the little town of Thread. He had always looked out for Danny, and that job had led to his knowing Stephen—and in turn Francesca. Friends mattered, and they made him happy.
How could he care about the kind of people Josh invited, especially Jesus Lopez? A few days earlier, Josh finally admitted that Lopez had been in Premios’ office, but Danny had no idea why Orleans first lied about it or why he had to force the information out of Josh. But he was over the incident. What did it matter how the company recruited new writers? After all, Josh would never have known Lopez if Danny hadn’t enrolled in the man’s writing course—and if he hadn’t done that, their business probably wouldn’t even exist. Truthfully, though, Danny wanted to write fiction, not offer arch reviews of restaurants or gossip about chefs. Let Francesca be the master of such work. There was a rumor that Vanity Fair was trying to lure her to Manhattan as their restaurant reviewer.
The party unsettled Danny. He felt a need to turn his life around. He was letting other people decide key directions for him. He had a mind of his own and he should use it. On this night his instincts told him to revel in friendship and let the party rage without him. Let Josh worry about business.
Danny and his friends were seated around a small breakfast table in a nook of the kitchen. The table held four flutes, along with a near-empty bottle of Taittinger champagne. The nook’s windows overlooked the large swimming pool and a lawn terraced into the east side of the hillside lot. Below the terraces, the yard dropped steeply to the street below.
Stephen motioned to one of his waiters, “Bring us another bottle, and also one of those duck breast pizzas.”
Around the table, everyone was laughing. Wally was being the indiscreet raconteur and recalling every oddball movement of any celebrity that ever came into their main restaurant in East Hollywood. He had just finished flamboyantly describing a situation involving a B-level starlet and her malfunctioning wardrobe.
Francesca wiped the tears from her eyes, “How I wish I could use a tale like that in one of my reviews, but the paper is so staid. Now, Danny, he was the lucky one when he still had his ‘zine. People only read his rag to get dirt, and he could use whatever he heard.” She smiled to show she wasn’t serious, even though Danny knew the critique was totally true.
“But who was the one at this table hoovering up all the filth to pass it onto me?” Danny asked.
Even as he laughed in agreement, Wally held up his hands to deny it.
“It is so good to be here with my gay guys tonight,” Francesca said. “For the last month, I felt like I forgot how to laugh.”
For a moment, the three men were somber. They all knew about Francesca’s situation. Though single, she desperately wanted to be a mother. An opportunity arose when her young cleaning girl Maria became pregnant. The girl was single, Catholic, not yet twenty-one and the father had vanished. When Francesca offered to pay Maria’s expenses through birth and then adopt the child, it seemed an ideal solution for all. Those who knew Francesca were overjoyed. While the woman lived life large and her past was wild, no one doubted that she would be a fantastic mother. Wally, Stephen, Danny and Josh attended Francesca’s baby shower and oohed over the sonogram showing the soon-to-be-born baby girl.
But disaster struck in an unexpected way. An INS agent arrested Maria because she was in the country illegally and working without papers. Despite the best efforts of Francesca to provide the woman with legal help, Maria was deported. Later, after the baby was born in Mexico, Maria sent a letter saying she would remain living with her parents and raise the baby in their home outside Mérida. Francesca was left with only the sonogram and a room filled with baby furniture and supplies.
Danny sometimes thought life was a pinball game. Full of chance,
How could he care about the kind of people Josh invited, especially Jesus Lopez? A few days earlier, Josh finally admitted that Lopez had been in Premios’ office, but Danny had no idea why Orleans first lied about it or why he had to force the information out of Josh. But he was over the incident. What did it matter how the company recruited new writers? After all, Josh would never have known Lopez if Danny hadn’t enrolled in the man’s writing course—and if he hadn’t done that, their business probably wouldn’t even exist. Truthfully, though, Danny wanted to write fiction, not offer arch reviews of restaurants or gossip about chefs. Let Francesca be the master of such work. There was a rumor that Vanity Fair was trying to lure her to Manhattan as their restaurant reviewer.
The party unsettled Danny. He felt a need to turn his life around. He was letting other people decide key directions for him. He had a mind of his own and he should use it. On this night his instincts told him to revel in friendship and let the party rage without him. Let Josh worry about business.
Danny and his friends were seated around a small breakfast table in a nook of the kitchen. The table held four flutes, along with a near-empty bottle of Taittinger champagne. The nook’s windows overlooked the large swimming pool and a lawn terraced into the east side of the hillside lot. Below the terraces, the yard dropped steeply to the street below.
Stephen motioned to one of his waiters, “Bring us another bottle, and also one of those duck breast pizzas.”
Around the table, everyone was laughing. Wally was being the indiscreet raconteur and recalling every oddball movement of any celebrity that ever came into their main restaurant in East Hollywood. He had just finished flamboyantly describing a situation involving a B-level starlet and her malfunctioning wardrobe.
Francesca wiped the tears from her eyes, “How I wish I could use a tale like that in one of my reviews, but the paper is so staid. Now, Danny, he was the lucky one when he still had his ‘zine. People only read his rag to get dirt, and he could use whatever he heard.” She smiled to show she wasn’t serious, even though Danny knew the critique was totally true.
“But who was the one at this table hoovering up all the filth to pass it onto me?” Danny asked.
Even as he laughed in agreement, Wally held up his hands to deny it.
“It is so good to be here with my gay guys tonight,” Francesca said. “For the last month, I felt like I forgot how to laugh.”
For a moment, the three men were somber. They all knew about Francesca’s situation. Though single, she desperately wanted to be a mother. An opportunity arose when her young cleaning girl Maria became pregnant. The girl was single, Catholic, not yet twenty-one and the father had vanished. When Francesca offered to pay Maria’s expenses through birth and then adopt the child, it seemed an ideal solution for all. Those who knew Francesca were overjoyed. While the woman lived life large and her past was wild, no one doubted that she would be a fantastic mother. Wally, Stephen, Danny and Josh attended Francesca’s baby shower and oohed over the sonogram showing the soon-to-be-born baby girl.
But disaster struck in an unexpected way. An INS agent arrested Maria because she was in the country illegally and working without papers. Despite the best efforts of Francesca to provide the woman with legal help, Maria was deported. Later, after the baby was born in Mexico, Maria sent a letter saying she would remain living with her parents and raise the baby in their home outside Mérida. Francesca was left with only the sonogram and a room filled with baby furniture and supplies.
Danny sometimes thought life was a pinball game. Full of chance,
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