8 Jeffery

“Damon! Topher!” Tony yells our names in his east-coast accent as we walk into the small pizza place. “It’s been too long since we’ve seen yous round here!”

With the call of our names, heads snap in our direction. Thankfully there aren’t too many people in here tonight. It’s usually the teenage girls that we really have to worry about.

The chatter becomes loud whispers as we approach the counter to pay.

“How are you, Tony?” I ask the middle-aged cook behind the chest-high desk.

He leans on the flat surface to talk to us, “Been good. You know, a little a this, a little a that. Life’s been good.”

“That’s great, man,” Toph says from next to me as he reaches his right hand over to shake Tony’s hand.

Taking Tony’s hand after in the same shake, I tell him, “We just ordered on the phone. Is our pizza done?”

“Let me get it for yous,” he tells us as he lets go. Turning around he shouts at his ‘cousin’, “Yo Vinnie, is that pie done yet?”

“Yea, I’ll bring it out in a second,” a nasally voice comes from the back whom I assume to be Vinnie.

He turns back to us for a second, “I’ll go see what the holdup is.”

“Thank you,” I say honestly.

As Tony disappears, a few girls in their early teens wonder up to us.

“Can I have your autograph?” a particularly short one with auburn hair asks me.

I nod smiling, “Of course, what’s your name?”

“Katie!” she practically squeals it while kind of bouncing on the balls of her feet.

I sign the napkin quickly and hand it back to her, “You have a good night, Katie.”

“I love your accent!” another girl tells me. She’s a bit taller than the first and has white blonde hair.

“Thank you,” I acknowledge her next. Pointing to the napkin that Toph has already signed I ask, “Did you want mine too?”

Her jaw drops comically like she’s actually surprised I would suggest that as she nods, “Please!”

After signing it, a younger little boy comes up to me, “Hi, I’m Jeffery.”

He looks to be seven or eight and I have to squat in front of him to be eye level, “Hi Jeffery, my name is Damon.”

“Your voice sounds funny,” his brows scrunch together as he looks at me.

His honestly make me chuckle, “You’re correct. I must have a frog in my throat.”

“Yea, probably. One time I was sick and my grandma said that I had a frog in my throat. It made me sound funny too,” he reasoned nodding his shaggy brown hair.

This makes me laugh again, “So Jeffery, what can I do for you?”

“My mom is over there,” he points to a booth in the corner where a very pregnant blonde female who looks to be in her mid-twenties is blushing madly. I look back to him when he says, “She told me to come over and ask if you’ll put your name on this napkin.”

I love kids. I love how innocent and happy they are. Everything about kids makes me want to say ‘aww’. I hope to have a couple when I get a little older and my life settles down.

Taking the napkin from his outstretched hand, I sign my autograph and hand it back to him, “There you are.”

“I can’t even read it,” he shakes his head at the scribble then looks back at me. “How am I supposed to know this is yours?”

I chuckle once again before I take it back to write underneath where I had signed. “What’s her name?” I ask him so I can write her a little note.

“Tabitha Damonto,” he smiles and I can see his two front teeth are missing.

In the space next to my signature, I write: Tabby- Your son is hilarious. You should be proud. -Damon Jacobs

“Is that better?” I ask him when I hand it back. He nods in approval, but just stands in front of me, “Is there something else, Jeffery? Did your mom want Topher’s name too?”

“I don’t know,” he admits. He looks thoughtful for a second before turning the top half of his body towards the booth containing his mother and what looks to be the rest of his family. They have a lot of kids. Then he shouts, “Hey Mom! Did you want the other one too?”

Her face flames red as she nods and looks away.

“I think that’s a yes,” he tells me shrugging his shoulders.

Looking behind me, I see that Toph is surrounded by a few girls just talking to him. He doesn’t have anything in his hands, so my guess is that he’s already done and waiting for me to save him. Smiling, I catch his eye, “Hey Toph, can you come here?”

He lets out a sigh as he smiles at the girls and waves goodbye to them. “What’s up?” he asks me as he crouches down next to me.

“This is Jeffery,” I motion toward the little boy. “His mother, Tabitha, wants our names on his napkin. Would you like to help out?”

A smile appears on his face as he turns back to our new little friend, “Of course, buddy.”

“Thank you,” Jeffery says as Toph takes the piece of paper and signs it.

Apparently, he notices how I had to write my name legibly too because he does the same before handing it back.

“Anything else, Jeffery?” I ask once more.

He looks between us once more, “Are you two married?”

“What?” I ask unsure if I heard him correctly.

“Well,” he shoves the napkin into his tiny pocket then puts his hand on his hips, “my Uncle Walter is married to a boy too. His name is Uncle Evan. My dad says that it’s okay for two boys to be married if they love each other.”

“Why do you ask?” Toph seems calm for the given situation.

Jeffery smiles at him and says, “’Cause you have rings like Mommy and Daddy. Uncle Walter and Uncle Evan have them too.”

Instantly, I freeze. I forgot that I was wearing my wedding band. I should have left it in the car. Surprisingly no one, besides this little boy, noticed.

I hear Toph clear his throat from beside me and chance a sideways glance. He shrugs his shoulders and his eyes get a bit wider, but he doesn’t say anything. I look around us, but thankfully no one heard Jeffery accuse us of being gay.

“Is there a problem?” I look up to see a man in a full police uniform with his hand on the little boys shoulder. “Is my son bothering you?”

“No, sir,” I clarify as Toph and I stand up straight. “He was just asking us a question.”

“Daddy,” Jeffery pulls on the officer’s uniform trousers. “I think they’re married like Uncle Walter and Uncle Evan. Look at their rings.”

The man’s eye widen slightly as he pats his son’s head, “Why don’t you go sit with Mommy.”  He turns to me and extends his hand while his son joins their family, “I’m Don. Sorry about that.”

Dropping his hand, I let out an awkward chuckle, “Damon and it’s no bother.”

“Topher,” my husband says he shake Don’s hand as well. “He was funny.”

“I know who you guys are - my wife really wants to see your new movie,” he smiles at the mention Tabitha. “But about Jeffery. He can be a bit forward, even for a seven year old,” he tells us as he scratches the back of his head.

“It’s fine, really,” I assure him with a wave of my hand. “But if you don’t mind, could you keep our marriage private?”

“We’re not really ready for the world to know,” Toph reasons with a shrug. “You know how it can be? The tabloids would have a field day.”

“I can only imagine,” he laughs. “Your secret is safe with me. But just so you know, the world could use a few familiar faces supporting your rights. My brother and best friend had a hell of a time when we were growing up. I think people like you could help open that door.”

I nod politely as Topher agrees with him.

“You’re pie’s done, fellas,” Tony says from behind us.

“Well,” Don pats his own stomach, “I have to get going. I’m going to finish dinner with my family. Then back out on the street.”

We thank him as he turns away. Facing the counter, I bring my hands up to grab the box.

“Did you get married and not tell us, Damon?” Tony asks in that booming Italian voice of his.

Shutting my eyes, I try to imagine that he didn’t just say that. Looking around though, I see that everyone heard him. The restaurant isn’t very big after all.

Smiling kindly, I take the pizza, “You know how it is.”

I’m not sure why I say that, or what it’s supposed to mean, but I’m so nervous that I want to puke.

“You should have let us know,” the boisterous man tells me. “We could have catered your reception.”

“I think he is now without even knowing it,” Toph whispers leaning closer to me.

I elbow him before chuckling nervously and turning back to Tony, “Sorry, mate. It was a very private affair.”

“I get it. I do. Big Hollywood guys like you got to keep some things to yourself,” he shrugs his shoulders.

I nod at him, “Correct, you are.”

“Were you there?” Tony turns toward Toph who’s digging through his wallet for the correct amount of cash.

A devilish grin makes its way to my husband’s face, “I was definitely there.”

“That makes sense,” Tony seems to agree. “You twos are like best buds. Nothing comes between best buds, you know what I mean? It’s like family. Two things that make you feel better - best buds and family. Now if you’re lucky enough, you can make your best bud part of your family. Don’t tell anyone,” he gets quiet (well as quiet as an Italian man from east coast can get) and leans closer to us, “my wife is the best friend I’ve ever had.” He straightens out again with a huge grin on his face, “Couldn’t imagine a better partner than my best friend.”

This makes me laugh, “I’ll keep that in mind. Make my partner my best friend.”