I just need a moment in my own space Who: Leira and Gabe. What: A siblings' dinner in, and a bit of catching-up. Where: Gabe's apartment. When: Mid-December.
Leira stood outside her brother's door, a grin on her face and a bottle of wine in each hand. One was a Reisling she had picked up on a trip to Cochem in western Germany; the other was a CabSauv from the train journey that had followed, meandering through the French countryside on her way back to Paris. They were more than just drinks; they were an excuse for her to talk to her brother about her recent excursions, to brag a bit about her work-related accomplishments (which so often felt unglamorous by comparison to his). Aside from the pleasure of her company, they were also her only meaningful contribution to the meal he had promised.
She tossed her hair, blowing one long strand from in front of her face. Satisfied she was as put-together as she was going to be, she reached up and tapped the door with the bottom of one bottle. Music drifted out from behind the door, and it was not long before it opened to reveal her brother. With a striped blue and white tee and khaki three-quarter shorts, bare feet, he looked at ease and at home, even if a little tired.
"Hey!" He said, face brightening as he stepped forward into the hall to wrap his younger sibling in a deep bear hug. She wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed him hard enough to raise her own sandaled feet slightly off the ground. "What'd you bring? You didn't have to bring anything, Lei-lei," he half chided, half asked, pulling away to glance at the bottles. The Reisling drew his interest, plucking it from her hand to instead thread his fingers through hers and pull her inside.
"This is gonna go great with the fish tacos I'm putting together. Come on, come in," he said, teasing, already closing the door behind her. "How was your flight? You saw Mom already, right?" "Of course," she answered. "She knew what flight I was on. If I'd have come here first neither of us would hear the end of it." She followed him into the kitchen, looking over his shoulder to the stovetop beyond. "And it was good, thanks! I got really lucky and they didn't give me too much hell about your gifts."
She set the bottle of red on his kitchen counter. Then, after only a minimal pause, she hitched herself up to sit on the countertop, alongside the wine and an unopened bag of tortilla chips. The heels of her sandals clicked rhythmically against the cabinets below. "She says hello, by the way, and that she's mailing you a photograph of her so you don't forget her face. I'm pretty sure that means she thinks you're overdue for a visit."
Gabe let out a pained sigh, rolling his eyes, though the smile on his mouth was ever-present.
"You'd think we didn't live in the same city," he replied, padding over to turn a stove burner off and move the fish to a plate. The counter opposite where Leira was sitting was covered with all the fixings—small tortillas, lettuce, guacamole, salsa, cheese, rice, and several types of herbs—ready for hungry supplicants to take their choice.
"You can help yourself. I'll get some wine glasses." He waved toward some extra, empty plates set at the beginning of the small taco-themed buffet, and then moved toward a cabinet. "So what's new? Done running around all over Europe so you decided it was time to check in on the homefront?" He cast a sidelong glance in her direction, smiling cheekily. The smiles only served to underscore the bags under his eyes.
"You're one to talk," she chided. She hopped down from the counter. Sidling up to the plates she swiped a bit of guacamole up with her index finger; she tasted it, and delivered her verdict with a satisfied hum. Then she set to work building two rapidly overburdened tacos, occasionally glancing over one shoulder as she talked. "But yes, thank you for asking. You'd love the Moselle river valley. It's just gorgeous, all these old medieval streets and beautiful architecture and that wine, the one you have there? Is definitely one of the best I've ever had. And the conference was good, too. You know in Germany they call midwives Beleghebamme? I just like saying that. Beleghebamme. And public insurance covers almost the full cost, it's not even a question."
She finished off her tacos with a flourish of cilantro, spilling some to the floor below. Drifting away from the counter, she balanced the plate on one palm and motioned impatiently to him for her wine glass. "France was fun, too, but my French is just merde and they weren't very forgiving about it."
Gabe chuckled, putting two glasses down and popping the cork from the wine bottle. He poured each of them a generous amount, then started to help himself to his own tacos, maneuvering around Leira. "Everyone loves a chance to be snooty," he agreed, laying rice down on a tortilla. "Beleghebamme, that definitely rolls off the tongue. Thinking about switching up your business cards?"
Leira laughed. "No, I think I'm good." She plucked her filled wine glass from the counter and drifted away, elbowing him as she passed him and headed toward the table. "But what about you? Those bags under your eyes… is it the book keeping you up these days, or, you know, something else that's not necessarily polite to share with a little sister? You really should try those cucumber masks I keep sending you. You don't want to look old before your time…"
"Hey, getting old is a sign of wisdom, Leira Bautista," Gabe shot back, shaking his head all while grinning. He finished up his third taco, grabbed his wine and moved to join her, breathing out a soft sigh and inhaling the smell of the food before even attempting to reply; his mouth withered on his face, shrinking away from the grins and smiles he'd been wearing all evening prior.
"It's just been hectic—my latest draft is behind schedule, the...apartment hasn't been as restful as I'd hoped, and..." He paused, unsure how much to tell his sister. She was family, after all, but he hated gossiping despite Hollywood providing his bread and butter.
"Rafe's in rehab. It's been about a week, and he's in there for a month, so I'm just worried about him. Makes it a little hard to sleep, to concentrate..." Gabe pressed a weak smile to his face, his hand reaching to briefly grasp Leira's. "But really, I'm fine. New year, new opportunity to get things in line, right?"
"Oh, Gabe." She squeezed his hand. Her lips pursed, fighting and losing against a frown. "That's… I'm glad he's getting help. Three weeks will be gone before you know it, you'll see. And if you need anything in the meantime, you let me know, OK? I mean it." Another tight squeeze; in spite of the meal laid out before them she clearly had no intentions of releasing him yet.
"I guess as long as I'm in town I'm going to have to keep you busy, then. I'll set up shop right here in your living room and be your writing-slash-life coach." She attempted a fearsome look; it fell far short of its goal. "No dawdling. Just writing sessions and then me dragging you around LA and cashing in on your celebrity so I can meet interesting people. We'll call it a three-week intensive."
Gabe quickly found himself grinning again, her response both welcome and amusing. He squeezed her hand again and then set about handling his tacos.
"Maybe," he replied, chuckling a little. "There's a few new restaurants I've been wanting to try out, but I don't know that I know the sort of people you're talking about. But it'd be good to spend some more time with you. It's been awhile." He lifted a tortilla to his mouth, taking a bite and chewing. He followed it with a sip of the wine, his brow immediately creasing in appreciation.
"Too long," she agreed.
"Are there any movies you're interested in? Have you seen del Toro's 'Shape of Water' yet? We could go see that, too."
She prodded a fallen grain of rice with the tip of her index finger, bringing it up to her grinning lips. It was an amusingly delicate gesture, given the ferocity with which she tucked into the taco afterward; fish, lettuce, rice, and pico de gallo went spilling all over her plate. But for all her apparent distraction Leira latched quickly onto the change in topic, allowing him his reprieve. "I haven't. Let's go. And we're going to dinner, before or after. What are these restaurants you've wanted to try? What kind of food are we talking about here?"
"Mm, a little of everything." Gabe watched his little sister tear into the taco, her messiness a perfectly welcome and familiar sight. He shook his head softly, grinning, taking another bite of his own meal. They chewed in silence for a beat, and then Gabe followed up with more information.
"But it's your choice. I definitely won't try to guilt you into doing anything you don't want to. Actually... How long are you in town for? I guess that'd push certain things to the top of the list."
"Um…" She covered her mouth—stuffed full as a chipmunk's—with one hand, talking around a mouthful of tilapia and rice. A thought had been tumbling around in her brain since Gabriel had first began to hint at the difficulties of his personal and work life. It had further solidified with the news of Spot's death and now Rafael's rehabilitation. A small part of her insisted it was too soon to be sure this was the wisest decision. The better part of her was increasingly certain it was. She finished chewing and lowered her hand.
"Well three weeks at least, now. I told you I'm staying until Rafe's back. But you know… I've missed you, big brother. So who knows? Maybe I'll stick around." She pushed her foot against his under the table. "What would you think of that?"
Gabe's eyes widened, his mouth chewing while his tongue swept over his bottom lip to gather up a last bit of tilapia.
"I'd say that'd be great, but I don't want you to put yourself out. I'm sure you've got plenty of connections, friends where you are, now," he replied, a smile curving his mouth. "Not that I wouldn't like to have my little sister closer. But I asked how long because I was thinking about having a welcome home party for Rafe, if you think you're up for it." A hand covered in rice and salsa came to his mouth, his eyes watching Leira curiously for her reply.
"Obviously! If you think he'd be OK with it. It's been a while since I've seen him, do you think he'll mind me coming to something like that?" She barely paused for breath, then, confident in what his answer would be. "I could bring more wine. Or decorations. I'm definitely not bringing food to his party. Too much pressure… who all are you inviting? Anyone I know?"
Gabe shook his head. "No, just another couple we're friends with in the building; Isobel and Obed Brandt. And..." He paused, but the cat was already implied to be out of the bag. "Well, Rafe's friend Fey might make an appearance. I think she's thinking about moving out here, after hearing about what happened. And I think Rafe would be extremely happy to see you, Lei-Lei. Round out the party a little bit, make him feel welcome, you know?" He picked up his wine glass again, another sip disappearing down his throat.
"Just trying to make sure he feels like he has a stable base to come home to. Not that I'm expecting anything of you. Just a friendly face, which I know you're good at doing," he finished, teasingly, his eyes landing on the aforementioned expression he saw in her eyes.
Somehow, Leira's grin brightened that much more. "I'll see what I can do," she said, teasingly winking at her brother. "He's got you to come home to, Gabe. Unless something's drastically changed since last I saw you two, you're all the stability he needs or wants." She reached across the table, taking hold of his wrist. She gave him a small, tight squeeze, her thumb tracing patterns on his skin.
"But he's absolutely going to love your party. Seriously. I wish I could find a partner half as thoughtful." She sipped at her Riesling, one hand still firmly on her brother. "What are Isobel and Obed like? I kind of remember Fey… she's the one you two lived with for a while? If she does move out here… um. What do you think of that?"
A moment of fleeting panic crossed Gabe's face, there and gone before he hoped his sister noticed. His hands started to fold up his last taco.
"She's...a handful," he said, immediately feeling like he was doing the woman a disservice. Leira only laughed, approving of the description. "Very blunt. She's worried about him, and I can't blame her. It'll be good for her to at least come visit; she and Rafe haven't seen each other since he moved out here." Again, something he felt a peck of guilt over, considering he'd been the one to invite Rafe along on his cross-country adventures. Gabe took a bite, swallowing.
"The Brandts are good people; I really only know Obed well enough, we..." He paused, as the mere mention of Spot was still sore. "They have a small pomeranian, pretty much still a puppy. We used to walk our dogs together. And Isobel is Rafe's friend. And I know Rafe has me, but... He needs to have more than that." It was another difficulty, one that both he and Rafe needed to get through their heads. "But, besides, it's an excuse to have a party, and not a bad one at that. You know?"
Leira nodded. "You're a good man, Charlie Brown," she said, attempting to lighten the mood; Gabe grinned, appreciative. "It'll be a great party. It will be good for him to see all the support he has. It shouldn't all be on you, big brother. But it sounds like you both have a good support network, and you know I'm here for you, right? Even when—if—I go back to Portland, I'm still here for you guys.
"And I cannot wait to see this pomeranian. Have you ever seen one in a bath? I swear they're like ninety percent fluff and the cutest, skinny little rat underneath." She chuckled. Her fingers toyed with the stem of her wine glass, spinning it slowly around and around.
"Have you thought about getting another pet?" she asked, after a moment. "It might be nice, you know? Maybe a puppy for you and Rafe to chase around together. Keep you both occupied."
Gabe stayed quiet as Leira rattled on, perfectly at ease within the sound. He chewed his latest bite of taco, his shoulders rising and falling.
"Maybe. It's...it's a little soon." Besides, he wasn't sure if Rafe's busy schedule and his own in-bound hermitness would be conducive to having a young animal, but it was a problem better dealt with later. He forced a smile. "One step at a time. But that's enough about me, really," he said, bringing his last bit of taco to his mouth and finishing it up. "You need to tell me how Portland's been and where I need to visit on my next trip up there. Regardless of whether you're there or not," he teased, picking up his glass. She nodded cheerfully, raising her own in response.
"To a successful family visit, hm?" He held it out for Leira to tap her own against.
"Yes," she said, her glass chiming against his. "We're already off to a great start. Now get your notepad ready, because I'm about to give you a list of Portland's finest..."