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"Dad, it's going to be fine. I'll be fine.."
"I know, I'm just not used to something so fancy."
"Fancy?" Soc laughs. "It's just a little Unitarian Universalist chapel."
"Well, your mum and. I got married at the regisrtrar’s office. Then again, we did have a big party in Greece afterward."
"Sounds flash. Wish I could have been there."
Jemaine smiles. "You were, son."
It’s a joke Taika always makes in a plummy, posh voice, whenever he sees Jemaine’s Soc and Bret’s Vita tussling in the sandbox. “Promise them to each other now. Join the two ruling families of New Zealand into one powerful dynasty,” he intones.
Miranda, Jemaine’s wife, usually has a quick answer along the lines of “Let’s get them out of nappies first, hrm?”This is as testy as it gets between the Clement, McKenzie, and Waititi-Horsley clans as they happily re-root in New Zealand soil
For sure, their holidays are like old-fashioned picture postcards come to life They convoy to the beach and the mountains, and little Soc and Vita fight and conspire like brother and sister – when they aren’t demanding fealty from (or barely tolerating) Taika and Loren’s gorgeous little twins Maaka and Marika. The little boy and girl, who only seem to have the lovliest features of their very attractive parents, squeal trying to keep up with the bigger kids.
Their parents watch them indulgently, sometimes joining them in play, and at night, there’s communal suppers and singing and playing cards that don’t end until Taika and Loren each drape a sleepy child over their shoulders and head back to their bungalow. Bret and Hannah are ready to scoop up Vita and head to bed themselves, but can’t resist the sight of the two kids piled on each other sound asleep on the bed. "Shhhh, look at the little angels," says Miranda. “Joining the families” mock-booms Bret, and they giggle quietly, trying not to wake the kids up just yet.
"Ready to go, Dad? These things don't happen by themselves!"
Bret adjusts his white tie again and fluffs his boutonniere.
"Oh, Vita, just like your mum. Timetable inside your head."
"Don't be nervous."
"Can't help it."
"It's going to be great. I love him. You love him. Let's make this crazy family official. ‘One big dynasty.” she says in her best Taika impersonation."
“Oh, you're just the best." He pinches the bridge of his nose. "You calming me down. It should be the other way around."
The years fly by like calendar pages whirling around in one of those booths where some poor contest winner grabs at flying dollar bills. Jemaine and Bret do a few Conchords world tours when they feel like making music, but for the most part, they’re plenty busy offstage. Bret is producing young musicians while Hannah teaches them the ins and outs of the music business. He’s produced a couple of hits which allows him to take the Wellington International Ukelele Orchestra to play in Europe and North America. Bret and Hannah enjoyed touring with the Conchords, but love this even more because it feels like they’re in their own little mini-Wellington in the midst of many strange cities.
Jemaine and Taika become a producing team, making inventive, culty and yes! profitable movies with complete creative control. It feels like a hobby to them – who wants a yacht or limo or big drafty house when you can create whole worlds? Miranda’s even directed a couple of films (very excellently, if Jemaine says so himself), done casting and held everything together logistically. Loren is acting up a storm, the rest of show business realizing that she’s the world’s best kept secret as a character actress.
The kids go their separate ways, their friendships not as tight as their parents. Vita has her father’s beautiful voice and the desire, focus and lack of materialism needed to pursue life as an opera singer. Soc is so sure he wants to be a performer that he passes on university to become an actor, much to Jemaine’s awe and horror. Even worse, he moves to LA before he’s twenty and works steadily, even without Taika and Jemaine casting him in all their films.
One day, Miranda, usually the embodiement of focused energy, struggles to get out of bed. Her bones have a heavy ache she can’t shake. After visiting doctor after doctor, it turns out it’s lupus. The specialist assures Jemaine that Miranda has to work with her body, not against it, and her life will be as long as an average person’s – maybe longer. Jemaine makes sure every night he’s home she sleeps in his arms, and he’s at every doctor appointment he can make.
She has more good days than bad, but her deteriorating joints require replacement and then, sadly a wheelchair. She still manages to get an Oscar nomination for a short film (she stays awake for her name being read, unlike someone else she knows), sees Vita and the twins graduate from university, and Soc become an American TV star and get married (not exactly in that order). Soon there’s granddaughter, Athena, the light of her grandparents’ life.
The end comes much too soon. Soc doesn’t leave Miranda’s hospice room, nor Jemaine, and the rest of their friend-family take turns spelling them over a harrowing few weeks. Finally, she smiles, says "I love you" to Jemaine and it’s over.
Jemaine feels as empty and sad and lonely as he’s ever had in his life, and it’s not something that can be fixed, by, say, moving out of Masterton. Or quitting a grueling TV series. He and Miranda were partners in every single sense, nuance and meaning of the word. They didn’t have to talk to each other to know when something was wrong – they just knew. The only other person Jemaine has had that kind of intuitive rapport with was, Bret? Is that right? Jemaine isn’t quite sure.
But in a move that intuitively meshes with Jemaine’s needs, Bret invites himself over for a boy’s night with a pile of old movies and a bottle of wine soon after the memorial service. And his overnight bag. What? He says he and Hannah have an early board meeting and he has no time to go home. He lives ten minutes from Jemaine.
"I'm glad you stayed over. It’s like when we were young. Falling asleep in front of the TV together in the hotel rooms."
"I can cancel that meeting, Hannah can take care of it. I can stay longer,” Bret offers (and hopes).
"No, I'll be all right. Go. And thanks."
The next year goes quickly. In the interest of moving on, Jemaine makes up a little trunk with everything he and Miranda gave each other that meant a damn – a sketch, some dried flowers, their marriage license, photos, sheet music and her wedding ring. A truckload of assiduously notated scripts, storyboards and awards gets split between the university drama department and a museum, Jemaine is gobsmacked at the reverence with which both institutions treat her possesions; he feels truly honored to have loved her.
Soc and his lovely bride haul another truckload of less treasured effects to a charity store (Jemaine can’t help but think about that Tom Waits song, ‘this one’s for bravery, this one is for me and everything’s a dollar in this box”). Then practical matters sorted for now, Soc and crew head back to LA and work.
Bret quietly worries about Jemaine. They'd both been on the dreaded day schedule for years thanks to kids and meetings, but Jemaine never took to it. More often than not, Bret would be there to pick him up for a 10:00 am meeting, and Jemaine would be trying to brush his teeth, put on his shoes and dress at the same time. Now, Taika tells Bret, Jemaine's awake from 5:00 a.m., until after midnight storyboarding, taking frantic notes, managing little details that were better left to others. It’s like he wants to collapse into bed every night. The only time he takes a break is when Soc is on hiatus back home. Taika guesses, "He's keeping busy so he doesn't have to think. He'll slow down when he has to." He's right, Jemaine hits a wall when he gets a vicious bronchitis with a fever high enough to hallucinate. He babbles in the throes of it, as if he's hashing out old business, but when it breaks he's as fine as can be under the circumstances. Sad, of course, but much less desperate. Standing on his own two feet, if somewhat tentative about it.. He's working a lot less.
Bret wonders if he’s somehow made peace with himself. Or Miranda. He's happy to have his friend back, either way. He's finally had time to talk to Jemaine, and realizes how much he's missing. He considers asking him to play together again as the Conchords, under a new name, or maybe just their actual names for once. Bret quickly talks himself out of that idea: Jemaine seems so engrossed with the whole movie producer thing that he probably wouldn't have time. Hannah tries get Bret to hold Jemaine’s feet to the fire. In some ways, she knows Jemaine better than Bret does and knows his ex-partner would do it in a moment if pressed. But Bret is quietly stubborn in his way, and settles for only Jemaine’s vague promises to "do something soon".
Jemaine has mixed emotions watching Bret and Hannah nurture new projects like the two-headed, four-armed creature a great couple or team can be. Jemaine misses that feeling he once had with Miranda, and yes, with Bret.. Taika’s his best mate, and he loves to collaborate with him, but they’ve never quite had that telepathy – their partnership is more a perpetual game of “top that!” (Taika’s also never made Jemaine’s stomach flip when he smiles either, as much as Jemaine loves him and treasures his friendship.)
But when “Sheep” (Jemaine hates this title, but can’t come up with anything better) is finished and in theatres later that year, it’s still a blast heading to the States with Taika. He’s a lightning rod for weird, wonderful experiences and it’s hilarious how anyone, who grew up in the Pacific Islands will find Taika, whether it’s in New York City or a shopping mall in the Midwest, and talk about hanging out in cars while their parents had a tipple, chasing after goats and growing up with their cousins in the same house.
"I still get such a rush at an opening," says Taika, looking just as giddy and confident as he did when the New York Times wrote up Eagle vs Shark’s opening night years ago. “It’s better than sex.” he overstates. “Hrm,” chortles Jemaine. “I’d take sex over opening a movie any day of the week!” But it is pretty exciting – they’re toasting the film at a NYC faux-roadhouse bar-b-que joint with surprisingly good food (“gotta bring Bret here some year” they both agree), and Jemaine’s shrill jackhammer of a laugh floats above the chatter in the bar.
Suddenly, Taika’s cell phone rings, and he picks it up in happy anticipation, expecting Loren or the kids to shout their congrats. But Jemaine sees the color drain out of his face, making him look all of his 62 years. Taika's glibness flees him like a soul leaving a body, his eyes are dull and sad. "Bret, I'm so sorry, Bret,. Bret.. Yes, he's here."
The plane trip home is unbearably long. They try reminscing, joking, crying, even napping, but in the end they just stare at the backs of the seats in front of them, silent and sad. "Bro, I'm out of words," says Taika completely unironically. “I miss Hannah already,” says Jemaine.
They go straight to Bret’s house from the airport. "Oh, Bret. Jemaine says, grabbing both of Bret's hands. "I’m so sorry.." "She just didn’t wake up. I never expected that. She was going to bury us all!" Bret’s New Zealand reserve cracks and his fear of looking not-so-straight leaves him and he sobs into Jemaine's shoulder. "It's going to be OK. I know. I know…" He gently brushes the tears off his mate’s face . Taika and Loren are about to lose it themselves, and Soc props up the normally-stoic Vita, dizzy and frail from grief.
Almost as suddenly as that lovely, compassionate moment starts, Bret rights himself, dabs at his eyes and puts on a brave face. “Uh, thank you. I'll let you know about the service. Jemaine watches him go, gutted, his disappointment at Bret pulling away (what?) mingling with his sorrow for Hannah. He figures as much as he adored his own wife, there was always this little hidden spark between Bret and himself. Weird how it popped up during an absolutely horrible time.
Meanwhile Bret feels like someone ‘s flung him off a building, and then caught him by the collar in mid-air. It was just a hug. From a close friend. But he can't stop thinking about it. He wants to tell Jemaine to just come over, watch movies and just laugh again. But something’s different. It feels wrong, and not only because his wife passed away less than three days ago. What is different? Oh. Right. They’re both single now. Shit.. Something could actually happen. He chastises himself, “What a creep you are, turning a pure, sweet gesture into something well, oh….”
The funeral is a respectful affair with Bret leading a ukelele choir playing Hannah’s favorite love songs. Even burdened by sadness, Bret can’t help but let a little, sunny smile slip through now and then. Understandably, he’s a little distracted when Jemaine, Taika and Loren try and talk to him at his brothers’ taven after the service. They chalk it up to grief and try to leave him be for a while.
After a couple of months, Taika and Jemaine ask him to write music for a TV movie they’re producing, but Bret quietly demurs, saying he wants to teach, he has other things to get out of his system. Vita moves back home for a month and frets over him, and when she gets back to her flat in Sydney, she keeps Jemaine and Taika updated on her dad. But it’s still frustrating for Bret’s friends. “It’s not right, Taika,” says Jemaine, over dinner. “He lives 10 minutes away, and the only way we know what’s up with him is long-distance through Australia!” He ignores Loren’s completely reasonable suggestion: “Just show up there with a damn bottle.” Although it is is good one.
When Jemaine’s back home, the phone rings around 2:00 a.m. and he jumps right out of his skin when he sees a local exchange on caller ID – at his age a late-night phone call from anywhere but overseas means something terrible has happened.
“Please, I just need to talk. It’s been too long…” Jemaine doesn’t ask who it is. He throws his clothes in an overnight bag, even though he’s only going ten minutes away. Bret greets him at the door. They start kissing before they even get out of the foyer.
"It's too soon. I'm not thinking clearly. I shouldn’t have called."Bret says a couple of hours later, zipping up his pants and buttoning his shirt and shaking his head.
"That's ok. It's completely understandable.”
“I guess I needed comforting.”
"Sexy comforting.”
“About that. You have to go. This isn't right."
" I understand. It's not just about us anymore."
"I need time.”
"You have it.”
"It might be never."
"I know. I love you. Just wanted to get that out there.”
There’s a sigh. “Go. Please.”
Jemaine just makes it home when the phone rings. He picks it up and grins. “That was quick. I’ll be right back. That is, if you don’t change your mind again.”
Being with each other in every sense of the word is a brave new world for these sixty-somethings. They make out like teenagers for a few days, kissing and groping, but the inevitable is inevitable. The night they finally make love properly, after not seeing each other undressed for decades, Jemaine tries to apologize for his (little) paunch, and his knobby knees. Bret waves him off. Easy for him, Jemaine thinks. He just looks like a gorgeously weathered version of himself – all angles and grace topped off by the face of an angel. Or maybe something not so celestial.
Bret kneels between Jemaine’s legs, and growls in a firm tone “I think you’re pretty goddamn hot. That’s why I’m here. Stop apologizing.” Jemaine shivers, and not just from the cold. Bret feels like he’s seeing Jemaine for the first time, savoring how his muscles feel under his fingers, how surprisingly soft the hair on his chest is when he kisses it. He can barely hold it together when Jemaine moans as he gently works a finger inside him. He takes Jemaine in his mouth and feels him pulse down his throat.
The amazed look on his face makes Jemaine laugh. “Don’t look so surprised, love, these things happen.” Jemaine pulls Bret up to his side and kisses him deeply, and a few strokes later, Bret’s gasping into Jemaine’s mouth, his long fingers hanging onto Jemaine’s shoulders. Jemaine pulls Bret to his chest and buries his face in his sweet, soft, more salt than pepper curls. “I want you. I want to have you.” “Oh, Jemaine, I want that, too.” “But you’re quite sleepy.” “Yeah,” murmurs Bret, awash in afterglow. “That’s fine,” smiles Jemaine. “That’s just fine, love”
When they wake up the next morning, grinning at each other, they know right then Jemaine is never going home again. Jemaine decides to move his stuff into Bret’s place, and sell the house. It meets with surprising resistance.
“This bothers me,” says Soc, home on hiatus over tea in Jemaine’s half-empty house. Jemaine pays attention, because for sunny, charismatic Soc to say something even vaguely irritatable is a reason to take notice.
“You never liked this house that much. You always wanted a house like the McKenzies’.”
“It’s not the house.”
“Bret and I weird you out.”
“You did that long before you started shacking up.”
“Then, what’s the problem?”
“Athena wants to know why her grandpa all of a sudden moved in with Uncle Bret.”
“Why don’t you just tell her we love each other?” glares Jemaine.
“Tried that. But she’s such a little stickler that she wants to know when the wedding is. ‘People who love each other should get married.’ This is why we have to move out of LA! That damn town has been wedding-crazy for the last fifty years!”
“Hrm, go sic her on Loren and Taika, if she’s going to use that argument.”
“Taika is not her gram-papa. It’s fine for them.”
Jemaine grins in spite of himself.
“So, you want us to get married to get a six-year-old off your back?”
“You know what she’s like, Dad! You should have no problem, she’s already got your wrapped around her little finger!”
Jemaine bursts into laughter. “ l'll have to ask Bret. And someone has to plan the thing for us. All this stuff with the cake, and the little decorations, and ugh. I don’t know anything about that…Bret’s even worse about it than I am…”
“I know, I know, you can make a thousand little stop-motion sheep, but napkins scare you. Some gays you are.” Jemaine looks embarrassed. Soc laughs. “It’s fine. We’ll plan it for you. Be prepared for what a grammar-schooler thinks is romantic. You two just rent some tuxes and show up.”
Athena glides up the aisle holding a bouqet almost as big as she is to the strains of Pachelbel’s Canon in D Major. Bret and Vita follow her to the pulpit.. (They drew the line at the masses of attendants Athena wanted) Jemaine and Soc wait at the front. Bret and Jemaine shoot looks at each other across the church, trying not to roll their eyes, both united in "can you believe it? These kids! So conventional!”
After James Bobin and Taika read their pieces, the vows, not as witty as anything they’d write but good enough, are stammered and muffed, eyes shining, trying to keep the tears back. Soc hands Jemaine the rings.
"Do you take this man to be your wedded partner? To love and honor til death do you part?”
“I do,” says Jemaine.
Do you take this man to be your wedded partner? To love and honor til death do you part?”
“I do,” says Bret.
“You may now kiss each other,” says the minister. The chapel bursts into cheers, and the pair walks down the aisle holding hands and waving.
“Took you long enough!” Taika says, his expert stage whisper cutting through the receiving line like a knife.
“Still waiting for you,” snarks Jemaine.
“Don’t hold your breath.”
Bret and Jemaine are more enthusiastic about the reception at a lovely waterfront restaurant Bret’s brothers recently bought. Athena drops her bouquet in Loren’s lap and goes off to chase her little cousins around the room. "Look, Taika! I'm the next to get married." Loren says. Taika looks flustered and she grins and bops him on the head with the orchids. “Nah, mate, dodged a bullet there.”
After some of Jemaine’s kin serenade them, and Miranda’s family toasts them boisterously, and Bret’s family just well, charms everyone, Bret and Jemaine leave for their honeymoom. Apart from a week in the Vanuatu Islands, it mostly consists of staying home, writing songs, and trying to figure out the logistics of a housefull of visitors at Christmas time.
They have some heart-to-hearts too, the kind you usually have before you drift off to sleep after an evening of really great sex.
“Do you think it would have been better if we got together earlier?”, Jemaine askes, rhetorically.
“I would never ever change being married, being with Hannah…God, when she died, it was like someone pulled out a vital organ. I always hoped we’d go in our sleep at the same minute.”
“I know. I know. I felt the same way about Miranda.”
“ I feel a little weird. Sad. But kind of giddy at the same time.”.
“Definitely that.”
“Do you think they'd mind, Jemaine?”
“About us? They can't really say anything even if they did, but no. I don't think they’d mind. They might be very surprised, though. “
“Jemaine, I don’t think they’d be that surprised. I mean, that weird song was such a dead giveaway. You’ve had a crush on me for years.”
“What about you? Remember body paint day?”
“Ah, yis, I kept hoping your robe would open.”
“You just don't know how close you came to getting your wish. It didn’t help that the tie to my robe disappeared mid-shoot.”
“Really?” Bret stretches his long frame out like a cat.
“You minx.”
Bret opens his eyes wide like saucers, completely disingenously. “Me?”
“But back to the topic, Are you happy, Bret?”
“Oh, yes? You?”
“Yes. Very much yes.”
“Glad to hear that, “said Bret as he pulls Jemaine to his side, wraps his arms around his waist and kisses him. “Very glad to hear that.”
On his radio show Last week, ESPN personality Tony Kornheiser offered an unsolicited, frank assessment of SportsCenter cohost Hannah Storm's fashion c
Jason McIntyre of TheBigLead.com noted on-air comments made on ESPN Radio in D.C. this week by ESPN P.T.I. co-Host Tony Kornheiser about his ESPN colleague Hannah Storm …
Victor Day