Oscar
Word travels fast around Captiol Hill at the best of times and at the worst of times. But especially when Alex Claremont-Diaz enters the building. Security don't even question his presence anymore. He has been the First Son for three and a half years already, but he has been hanging around the halls of congress, since he was a young kid. Between his mother's political career and his father's, he is well known by everyone in the halls from the janitorial staff, the Admins, to the politicians, themselves.
Meaning he pesters everyone and anyone who will give him a moment of their time. He has questions, blunt questions, for both sides of politics that no self-respecting constituent would ever dare ask of their elected official. Alex has always asked anyways. Politics are ingrained in Alex's DNA and many people on both sides, can see the potential that the young man shows in himself every day. That one day, he will be here on his own merits. In here, the secret service know they can go more lax than usual with his security because it is more likely security will toss Alex out, than someone getting to Alex in these halls.
But lately, within the last year, Alex has mostly only pestered either the Independent Senator Rafael Luna or his father. So when Oscar hears knuckles wrapping on the door of his office, an hour after quitting time before congress breaks for summer break. He is surprised to see it is his son, standing there and looking rather unsure of himself. Something he doesn't normally associate Alex with. Uncertainty.
"Hey, Mijo." Oscar greeted him, excitedly. He tried to reach back into his memory bank to remember a time when Alex looked as unsure as his did now.
"Hey Dad." he greeted him. "Got a minute? I know Raf said you were like super busy, before heading out to the lake house. But it's kind of important."
"Sure, what's up?" He asked, putting his pen down from the bill he'd been going over. He removed his reading glasses and watched carefully as Alex closed the door behind him and took a seat in the chair opposite him. Clearly whatever was bothering his son, was meant to be private between the two of them.
'Although, given Alex admitted he'd already seen Raf, it was possible that Raf knew too.' Oscar pondered to himself. 'Los Bastardos at its finest.'
"I ... Um... Have you spoken to Mom, lately?" He asked. Oscar noted that Alex stammered slightly. His son rarely stammered.
"Not of late. Last time we spoke, I told her that I was having the three of you down at the lake house from Tuesday for a week." He answered truthfully. He scrutinised his son, carefully. Alex looked like he hadn't been sleeping. "She did mention something about you taking a sabbatical from the campaign. Made it sound like, you're the one who wants the break. But I think I know you better than that, Mijo."
"Mom kicked me off the campaign, probably for the best, though." Alex sighed. "Dad?"
"Yeah?"
"You know how June is bringing Nora? To the Lake House?" He asked, unsure. "Do you mind if I bring someone too?"
Oscar lit up at his son's question. Besides Nora, Alex had never asked to bring someone to the Lake House before. Sure, he had brought home partners in the past, but the relationship never lasted long enough to be serious or long enough for a lake house stay. But Alex had never actually asked to bring someone before. That very first time, with Nora, she'd just tagged along, and Oscar never really knew if she was there as Alex's girlfriend or June's Best Friend. "You know you don't have to ask, of course you can bring someone along."
"It's rather a who." Alex chuckled nervously and Oscar raised his eyebrows in curiosity. "It's complicated too, because they have their own security too. Both, Cash and Amy have liaised with this person's detail before. So, there should be no teething problems between their security and the Secret Service."
"You have my curiosity peaked now." Oscar grinned at him. Sure, being the First Son, Alex met other peers with power. But he could inky think of one name. Prince Henry. Last month, he'd been caught off guard when a fellow Senator had questioned him about his son being seen at a fund-raiser in LA. Alongside the younger two royal siblings and the heir to the Okonjo fortune and philanthropic NGO. "Anyone I happen to know?"
"A certain prince, perhaps." Alex blushed. Honest to God, blushed and Oscar could scarcely believe his eyes. "The one you met at the State Dinner, back in January. Not the dickhead one who's wedding cake we destroyed."
"Ah, yeah. I guess." Oscar answered, really unsure if someone like Prince Henry would be able to cope without the luxuries of royalty, deep in the heart of Texas. Not to mention the heat and isolation of the Lake House. "He knows it's not a palace, right?"
"Dad, trust me. He's not like that." Alex reassured him. "You'll like him."
Oscar truly had put the conversation out of his mind that he had with his son last week. All Alex had said of the conversation since was a two-word text message later that same evening that said "He's in."
Oscar wanted to ask June about it but didn't.
Oscar wanted to ask Ellen about it but didn't.
Oscar wanted to ask Leo about it but didn't.
Oscar did want to ask Raf. But he didn't. Raf wouldn't know a damn thing. Raf was in enemy territory now, even if he would never be a true enemy.
Oscar had left the jeep at the airport for the kids, as promised. He had received word from the Secret Service that they were fifteen minutes out. He took a quick swim, mostly to ease his nerves at hosting the Prince of England.
The security teams fall back to check the perimeter, even though Oscar has been here for our days already and he knows they are renting out the place next door for added privacy and the obligatory security presence. He watched on as Henry effortlessly lifted June's cooler up onto one shoulder.
"CJ!" Oscar called out, spying June first, as he spins her around and deposits her on the stucco railing. Nora is next, and then a bone-crushing hug for Alex. Henry stepped forward, and Oscar looked him up and down—the Burberry bag, the cooler on his shoulder, the elegant smile, the extended hand. His dad had been confused but ultimately willing to roll with it when Alex asked if he could bring a friend and casually mentioned the friend would be the Prince of Wales. He's not sure how this will go.
"Hello," Henry said, greeting him. He briefly remembers being introduced to Senator Oscar Diaz at the State Dinner. But that night he had only Alex on his mind. Nothing else seemed to keep his attention. "Good to see you again."
Oscar slaps his hand into Henry's. "Hope you're ready to party." He went to join June and Nora by the bench to get some drinks. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Henry went to join Alex, looking at the family pictures.
"Look at you." Henry cooed, as his sight narrows in on an eight-year-old, holding a fishing rod, with a fish dangling from the end of the rod. "Weren't you adorable?"
Alex half rolled over from where he was sprawled out on the sofa to turn and look at the photo that had caught Henry's eye. Henry reached out and rested his hand on Alex's far shoulder. His hand curved around Alex's in a loving manner. Alex, well, he seemed to melt into the small action.
It always been easier to talk to his son if his hands were occupied and Oscar had always been the cook of the family. So, it was only natural that, those conversations would always take place in or around the kitchen. Seeing Alex finally alone, preparing the ribs that Oscar would be barbequing for dinner. Brown sugar. Smoked paprika. Onion powder. Chili powder. Garlic powder. Cayenne pepper. Salt. Pepper. More brown sugar. Alex measures each one out with his hands and dumps them into the bowl.
Oscar begun shucking the corn by the sink, keeping an eye on his son. Alex may be preparing the ribs, but his focus was the girls and Henry on the dock. June and Nora are embroiled in what looks like an improvised jousting match, charging at each other on the backs of inflatable animals with pool noodles. Henry is tipsy and shirtless and attempting to referee, standing on the dock with one foot on a piling and waving a bottle of Shiner around like a madman. Alex smiled a little to himself, watching them. Henry and his girls. Seeing Alex smile, Oscar smiles too.
"You know…" he says. "That summer, I sent you to work on his campaign because you're the best point man I got. I knew you could do it. But I really thought there was a lot you could learn from him too. You got a lot in common." Oscar knew he was being vague about Raf deliberately. He was hoping his son would come out and open up to him. Alex says nothing for a long moment. "I've got to be honest," his dad says, and when Alex looks up again, he's watching the window. "I thought a prince would be more of a candy-ass."
That makes Alex laughs, glancing back out at Henry, the sway of his back under the afternoon sun. "He's tougher than he looks." Oscar laughs dryly too. He couldn't even imagine the strain that young prince would be under.
"Not bad for a European," Oscar bites the bullet. He'd tried being vague and it hadn't worked. It was time for a more direct approach. "Better than half the idiots June's brought home."
Alex's hands freeze, and his head jerks back to the sink where Oscar is still, who's still stirring with his heavy wooden spoon, face impartial. "Half the girls you've brought around too. Not better than Nora, though. She'll always be my favorite." Oscar lets a conspiratorial grin take over his face, trying to ease Alex's nerves.
Alex stared at him in disbelief, until his dad finally looks up. "What? You're not as subtle as you think." He wasn't going to mention that he had seen Alex practically melt into Henry's embrace when they'd been looking at the photo frames together. Oscar had caught the entire exchange between them, and it had told him more than he needed to know.
"I—I don't know," Alex sputters. "I thought you might need to, like, have a Catholic moment about this or something?"
Oscar slapped him on the bicep with the spoon, leaving a splatter of crema and cheese behind. "Have a little more faith in your old man than that, eh? A little appreciation for the patron saint of gender-neutral bathrooms in California? Little shit." That was just like Alex, being a shit.
"Okay, okay, sorry!" Alex says, laughing. "I just know it's different when it's your own kid."
Even though Alex had gone through this huge change and was laughing and relaxed. Oscar had been able to see past Alex's carefree attitude, to see the fear that lingered there. Oscar knew he needed to be better to Alex. He laughed again with Alex, rubbing a hand over his goatee. "It's really not. Not to me, anyway. I see you."
Alex smiles again. "I know." The look of joy on his son's face made him realised, he'd used the perfect words. Alex knew that Oscar supported him.
"Does your ma know?" Oscar asked, turning serious.
"Yeah."
"How'd she take it?"
"I mean, she doesn't care that I'm bi. She kind of freaked out it was him. There was a PowerPoint." Alex seemed more relaxed than when he arrived, if that was possible.
"That sounds about right."
"She fired me. And, uh. She told me I need to figure out if the way I feel about him is worth the risk."
"Well, is it?" Alex groans. "Please, for the love of God, do not ask me. I'm on vacation. I want to get drunk and eat barbecue in peace."
Oscar wanted to offer his experience with Ellen but he chose to stay silent. Henry wasn't Ellen and Alex wasn't him. It didn't matter.
Oscar found himself in limbo. On one hand, he was angry at his ex-wife, but at the same time, he understood her rationality. Then there was anger again, when he realised his ex-wife had let him believe that it was Alex who had wanted the sabbatical, when in actual fact, she had fired him, for fear of the media.
He wanted to have words with her. Harsh words. But he didn't. He wouldn't. Not while the kids were here.
After dinner, June was strumming his old guitar, while they sat around a small campfire. They sang songs and ate smores. It was perfect.
Oscar took himself off to his bedroom, intending to turn in. He went to the window, to call out to remind Alex to extinguish the fire when they were done. But he halted himself and watched.
Alex and Henry drifted to a swing at the edge of the porch, and he curled into Henry's side, buried his face in the collar of his shirt. Henry put an arm around Alex, tighter than before and touches the hinge of Alex's jaw with fingers that smell like smoke. June's still plucking away at "Annie's Song," you fill up my senses like a night in a forest, and the breeze keeps moving to meet the highest branches of the trees, and the water keeps rising to meet the bulkheads, and Henry leans down to meet Alex's mouth, and Alex is. Well, Alex is so in love he could die.
Closing the window, it didn't matter. He knew they'd take care of the fire. Sitting on the bed and lying back against the cool pillows, he grins to himself. Alex is in love.