#haliawrites

“I’m gonna make rounds, I wanna check on how everyone’s doing,” Randy says, stretched out on the bed with his phone in his hand. Cameron’s next to him, lazily jumping through the TV channels — all in Italian, so he doesn’t understand anything.

“You call Rox first, you’re gonna end up talking to her all afternoon and ditching everyone else,” he tells his husband and he knows Randy’s getting ready to protest, “hey, you know I’m right, don’t even try to deny it.”

“Whatever. How long do we have? Before your mom’s party?” Randy asks as he searches for Rox’s number in his contacts.

“Two hours before you gotta start getting ready. Four before we gotta leave,” Cam tells him as he turns the TV off. He leans over to kiss the other on the cheek and then gets off the bed. “I’m gonna go do some work, there’s about thirty emails I’ve been ignoring. Tell Rox and Vince to come out for drinks with us once we’re back in New York,” he says and leaves the bedroom.

When Randy dials the number, for a second he wonders if he’s not calling too early, time zones and all, but then Roxane picks up — she doesn’t sound like she’s just woken up so he figures he’s good. 

“Free to talk?”

“Yeah, i’m just at home, working. Had breakfast with your mom because your dad’s case is stretching out.”

“I told you that you shouldn’t have agreed to work for him. God forbid you lose and he goes to prison, my mother’s never going to speak to you again. And me, though she’s already not talking to me. Ever since I said that dad should try and enjoy jail time,” Randy tries not to laugh at the memory of his ill-timed joke-not-really-a-joke he let slip while really wine drunk at the last family dinner. And that was two months ago. 

“Well, she’s already stopped talking to Vince, she only passes things on through me. I don’t even remember what it was about, the things he said. Your grandmother laughed, your mom, not so much,” Rox tells him and Randy can tell there’s a smile on her face. He can also tell she absolutely regrets taking the job. 

“Is he there, too? Put him on, haven’t talked to him in ages. At least one Bernstein still wants to talk to him, he should be happy,” Randy says, wedging the phone in between his head and shoulder. He gets off the bed and walks over to the dresser, the top of it currently serving as a mini-bar. He pours himself a drink and, opting out of laying down again, starts walking in circles around the room.

“Hey, what’s up? Aren’t you in London right now?” he hears on the other side. For some reason Vincent’s voice makes Randy smile.

“No, Milan. We flew in yesterday. We saw Damien in London, though. He’s settling in good, I think.”

“Oh, shit, right, the restaurant. It’s opening in, what, two weeks?”

“Three. Gen is planning our stay, she said she’s gonna email us everything. She’s in Dubai now, planning for the girls’ wedding. And that’s in two months and she’s also going to email you everything.”

“Jesus, what else are we gonna get emails about?” Rox cuts in and chuckles.

“Cameron’s launch, probably. It’s next month, on our anniversary weekend. Gen’s responsible for that, too. She’s really busy these days and not just with our shit. I feel like she’s planning weddings and parties for half of Manhattan. Can’t wait to have her plan my future son’s bar mitzvah,” Randy chuckles into the phone and he can hear the others laughing on the other side, too. “How’s my goddaughter doing?” he asks, since he’s steered the conversation onto children. 

“She’s still at summer camp,” Rox starts off, clearly wanting to go on, but Vince cuts her off.

“Kinda like your dad,” he jokes which makes Randy burst out laughing. 

“That’s the joke I couldn’t remember,” Roxane says, “that’s why your mom doesn’t want to talk to my husband anymore,” she tells Randy, trying not to laugh either. She shouldn’t — they’re talking about their client. 

“That’s a good one, I’m gonna have to remember it for Cam later.”

“Is he around? Haven’t talked to him in a while. But I saw his new collection, it’s beautiful,” Roxane says. Before he can reply, Vince has to excuse himself from the conversation, to take another call. 

“He’s working. If we talk for two hours, he’ll be back to make me get off the phone and you’ll be able to catch him. You free for that long?”

“I’ve got enough stuff to talk about for ten.”

“So we better get on with it.”

—

“I can’t wait for you guys to see them in person, though. Cam did such a good job on the dresses, I swear to God,” Maggie says, staring at the laptop screen. She wishes the view wasn’t so blurry but with her, Ada and Gen here in Dubai, and Abigail and Matt in Mexico, it’s as good as it can get. 

“Just a little longer. We can’t wait either,” Abi says with a smile before she turns her head to the side. She’s waving her hand, most probably at Matt, ushering him to join her for the video chat. “Give him a minute, he’s getting drinks.”

“Good idea,” Ada says and gets up from the couch. She heads for the mini-bar and leaves with three glasses in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other. Not a minute has passed before she’s back in her spot, in between Maggie and Gen. She pours each of them a drink and when she’s almost done, Matt joins Abigail on the other side. 

“When are you guys coming back? It’s been like—what, three months now?” Gen asks now.

“We might come back next month. I’m still not done writing and Matt’s booked a shoot here, which is not for another two weeks,” Abi explains and gladly accepts a drink from her boyfriend. 

“We thought we might come back to New York two weeks before the wedding, take care of our stuff and recover and then fly over to you guys, maybe even earlier than the whole party,” Matt explains.

“Promise you’ll shave before, you look disturbing,” Gen tells him and takes a sip of champagne. Her comment makes everyone laugh — everyone except for the man in question. 

“Hey, that’s rude,” he protests, brushing his fingers through his unruly beard. “And you, too? Unbelievable,” he says, turning to Abigail, who’s laughing. She shrugs and smiles bright at the computer screen. 

“Hey, you’re not gonna ruin our wedding pictures by looking like Sasquatch. I’m gonna shave it off personally, if you show up here looking like that,” Ada says — at first she tries to sound threatening but soon enough her face falls and she laughs. 

“And don’t test my future wife, she means it,” Maggie adds and refills everyone’s glasses. She leans her head on Ada’s shoulder and, oddly enough for her, prefers to keep quiet and let everyone else talk for a while. 

“Speaking of marriage and shit, how’s husband number two— three, sorry,” Matt says, the question, of course, pointed at Gen. She can tell the mistake was intentional.

“Hey, watch it,” she warns the man, though a second later there’s a smile on her face. “In Japan, with Lowell, on business. And speaking of Lowell, your brother has been really moody lately. And won’t pick up calls from anyone.”

“Oh, yeah. I tried calling him last week, too, bastard won’t answer,” Ada nods and stares at the screen, hoping that Abigail can supply them with an answer. 

“He won’t tell me what’s up with him. He says he’s busy with work, all the time. And he is, of course, but there’s something else and he won’t say what it is. But don’t worry, he promised he’s all yours for the wedding week. Hope he doesn’t overworks himself before then,” Abigail explains and makes a mental note to call her brother again and bother him for… well, whatever he’s willing to tell her. 

“I think he’s got someone and he doesn’t wanna tell us,” Maggie cuts in, deeming Lowell as the topic that makes her want to engage in the conversation again. “I mean, he’s always like that when he starts seeing someone, right? Acts all mysterious, even to you,” she says, the last bit pointed at Abi.

“Actually, she’s right,” Gen agrees and downs her drink. “It was the same when we started seeing each other and that was years ago.”

“Oh my God, you’re right,” Abigail says, the realization hitting her like a ton of bricks. She turns to Matt, “why didn’t I think of that?” She asks and then looks at the laptop screen again. “What time is it in Tokyo right now? I gotta call him, like, right now.”

“Uh—like three in the morning. So you’re gonna have to wait and let him sleep,” Ada says, putting her phone away. 

“Don’t tell anyone, though. Especially Randy, he’s going to make a whole conspiracy theory out of it, trying to figure out who it is that Lowell is seeing,” Matt says and Abigail hits him in the arm lightly, “what? I’m right.”

“He is,” both Ada and Gen agree with him at the same time which makes everyone, including Abi, laugh. 

“Okay, whatever. Talk about the wedding, please, it’s gonna distract me from trying to become Randy and start thinking about my brother’s love life.”

“Oh, be careful what you wish for, Gen is gonna talk your head off.”

—

“What time is it over there?” Damien asks. He sets the pile of books down on the floor — unpacking is going to have to wait — and instead heads to the kitchen to get himself a glass of wine. 

“Late. I can’t sleep, though,” Lowell answers on the other side. His hotel room is quiet and dark as he lays in bed. There’s silence on the line for a long while. 

“I wasn’t sure you’d want to talk to me. After last time,” Damien finally says, remembering their last conversation — a fight, is more like it. “And now you’re calling me when you can’t sleep,” he goes on, though unsure of how to finish his thought. So he doesn’t. Silence falls on the line once again but Damien doesn’t want to be the one to break it again.

“I miss you,” Lowell says and it’s clear it takes a lot for him to say that out loud. “What I said last time about you leaving me— I didn’t mean that, you know that, right?” He says and Damien can hear the apology in his voice, even though a sorry is not going to be said. “Right?” 

“I don’t know. You sounded very convincing,” Damien sighs and drinks half of his wine. He winces because the memory of the last time they spoke pops up in his head again. Lowell’s voice sounded so different then. Vicious. It’s far from that now. 

“I’m sorry,” Lowell says and Damien’s really taken aback — he wasn’t expecting that. They’re both silent again, either one unsure of what to say next. 

“Apology accepted,” Damien finally replies and Lowell smiles. Another long pause.

“How are you settling in?” Lowell asks. He turns to lay on his back and stares at the ceiling. 

“I was unpacking my books when you called. I’m doing one box a day, don’t really have time for any more than that. I feel like I’m running late with everything and I’ve only got three weeks left,” Damien explains. He goes back to the living room and drops onto the couch, glass of wine still in hand. 

“You’ll do great. You always do,” Lowell tells him. They’re silent again, mostly because there’s too much to say.

“What about you? How’s the trip going?”

“I’m buying some stocks for my father. I’m— I’m going to be in London next week. For a merger.”

“Is that why you called?”

“I guess.”

Damien sighs and finishes his drink. Lowell shifts around in bed.

“How long are you planning to stay for?” Damien asks.

“Until your opening, at least. Permanently, if you still want me to,” Lowell says, though he struggles with his words for a second there. There’s more silence.