Wen had introduced them to each other ten months ago. “Anden,” she’d said after dinner at the Kaul house one evening, taking his empty plate and drawing him into the kitchen, “are you free for lunch next Secondday? I’d like you to meet a friend of mine. He’s a talented artist who works in the film industry. Also, he’s handsome and single.” She held up a hand before he could even think of what to say. “Just so you know, he’s Abukei, but don’t judge him until you meet him. I think the two of you would get along. I’ll set it up so there’s no pressure.”
Anden had been rendered nearly speechless with embarrassment by the idea of Wen considering partners for him. Personally, he’d all but given up on meeting anyone suitable. His most recent relationship had lasted only a few dates, and his pool of prospects felt small. Lott Jin had gotten married to a woman Anden didn’t know, then divorced three years later. He seemed uninterested in another relationship—not that Anden was holding out any hope on that front. On occasion, Anden had gone to social gatherings with the few queer friends he’d met in medical school and at work, but he was wary of creating professional complications. There were no other mixed-blood Green Bone physicians in all of Janloon. Anden could not hide who he was or where he was seen, even if he wanted to. And most men with the unlucky desire for other men did not want to risk the potential public scrutiny that came from associating with the Kaul family.
“How do you even know he would be interested?” Anden asked.
“Just come to lunch,” Wen assured him.
Anden had been skeptical. He had no particular attraction to Abukei men and had never before contemplated dating one. So he was surprised at that first meeting, then faintly resentful of Wen’s smugness. Jirhuya had sharp cheekbones, smooth bronze skin, and a slim, straight build that made all clothes look good on his body. He used this fact to his advantage and was always well dressed, even when he was only going out for a short while. Although he didn’t possess the physique of a fighter that Anden had always associated with male beauty, he’d grown up swimming and rock climbing and now kept up both activities in the gym. Jirhu possessed a ready smile and was easy to talk to because he was quick to open up about himself and genuinely curious about others. In that way, he reminded Anden of Cory, but Jirhu had a rich inner life—one awash with colors and ideas and feelings—that Anden didn’t fully understand, and the man was more intensely devoted to his artistic vocation than Cory had been to anything. Anden was shocked, after their first few dates, to find himself the pursuer—calling Jirhu to invite him over, making dinner, renting movies.
A clicking on the line told Anden he was running out of time on his calling card. “We’re just having a meeting tomorrow. There’s nothing to worry about,” Anden assured his boyfriend. That was not true; meetings could decide life or death, war or peace, but that was not what Jirhu was asking. They talked a little longer. After hanging up, Anden did indeed go into the hotel gift shop, where he bought some bags of sour candies and keychains shaped like the Mast Building. He could’ve saved himself the minor inconvenience by simply using the phone in the hotel room, but he hadn’t yet mentioned his boyfriend to the Pillar. Even though Hilo probably already knew about the relationship, Anden wasn’t sure how to properly bring up the subject. A hotel room in a foreign city after an already difficult day didn’t seem like the right time or place.
_______
The next day, Dauk Sana held a meeting in her home. Although they’d always lived modestly, the Dauks had invested in a number of Kekonese businesses that had grown successful with the assistance of the No Peak clan. Cory and his sisters were all financially secure, so the Dauks had become reasonably wealthy in their later years. Instead of downsizing, they’d built a much larger, nicer residence where they could host gatherings and have their children and grandchildren visit. They were not technically in Southtrap anymore, but they didn’t need to be, as the neighborhood was increasingly being taken over by high-rent commercial space, and the Kekonese community had spread out over the years, with old K-Town remaining in Southtrap, but equally populous cultural pockets cropping up in Jons Island and Quince, among other places.
The meeting was held at a long mahogany table in the dining room. It was a far cry from the cozy space Anden remembered of the Dauks’ old blue split-level house. Tea was poured and plates of snacks were passed around, which gave the gathering the incongruous feel of a family gathering, even though there were people in the room who’d never met one another and others who outright disliked each other. Dauk Sana, in a white sweater and face powder, sat at the head of the table with her son, Cory, the only Green Bone among her children, seated beside her.