The City of Rossford

[CharmedFan28]

It will be interesting to see how Layla and her sister interact. Looking forward to portion 2.

 

[ChrisGibson]

PORTION TWO!

“Hey, there,” Brendan found her in one of the lounges, eating a sandwich, with a book open on her lap.
“Hey, yourself,” Layla said.
“How is your first day back in academia?”
“I know that I’m happier taking classes in the day than in the night,” Layla said. “And that’s a good thing.”
She frowned at the book and showed it to Brendan. “I know that I hoped I’d never have to read The Handmaid’s Tale again, and that’s kind of wearing on me. A semester of Women’s Lit; Joyce Carol Oates, and Margaret Atwood. And I kind of hate them both. I don’t know if I’ll keep this shit up.”
Brendan, at a loss for what to say, nodded his head. Layla continued: “This class has a lot of undergraduates. For them it’s an upper lever course. For us, we’ve got a few more things tacked on, and we each have to teach one of the classes. That’s the way it’s going to be. Did you know you wanted to be a lawyer right away? Did you like it right away?”
This was something Brendan could talk about, and he sat down across from her.
“It’s so exhausting. Going over the cases, memorizing precedents is so exhausting. It’s like a big game.”
“That’s what I don’t like,” Layla said. “My legal rights as a game.”
“Well, I’m not sure I really like that either,” Brendan confessed. “But there it is.
“For almost an entire year I was terrified I couldn’t rise to the challenge. There were a lot of people who just dropped out. I really kind of hated it.”
“And then…”
“And then I loved myself as a lawyer. I began to believe that I was going to be really good.”
“What are you going to do,” Layla said. “When you’re a lawyer? What kind of lawyer will you be?”
Brendan looked surprised at this.
“One that helps people,” he said. “I guess.”
“Are you saying that because it’s what you’re supposed to say?”
Brendan sat up.
“Is this really about me? I thought it was about you.”
“It’s about thinking we know what we’re doing,” Layla said.
“This time a year ago I thought I’d be a married woman. This time a week ago I thought I only had one sibling. Now neither one of those things is true.”
“I’m going to help people,” Brendan said, more to himself than Layla.
“I don’t know how this Masters in English is going to help anybody,” Layla said. “And… do you like your classmates?”
“I feel like we’re all in something together.”
“I don’t think I like my classmates,” Layla confessed.
She looked up at the clock on the other side of the empty lounge.
“I have a creative writing course to go to,” she said.
“That should be fun.”
“It should,” Layla told him.
Brendan rolled his eyes and stood up.
“Howabout after my last class lets out, we can go by that shop and meet your sister?”
Layla looked at him.
“And say what?”
“And say nothing,” Brendan grinned at her. “We can… just meet her. Have her do a Tarot reading or something.”
“Oh, Bren, I don’t know.”
But when he was grinning at her that way, she had to shrug, and in the end she had to say:
“Alright.”

When Sheridan jogged up the steps to Casey’s house, Logan was jogging down them. He put down his hand and slapped the bill of Sheridan’s ball cap over his eyes.
“Hey!”
“See you later, sport!”
Prying the cap from his face, Sheridan cried, “Where are you going?”
“I got work!” Logan said.
Sheridan stuck out his lip.
“It’s not gonna take long. Really. And this is the safe kind. More or less. I’ll be back before six.”
“Six?”
“Driving out to Libertyville. Now, go on,” Logan said, hopping in his car. “I’ll be back. If you’re still around maybe I’ll take you guys out.”
Sheridan nodded and then turned and headed up the steps.
This was what he couldn’t tell Mathan. How could he explain that one of his best friends now was a sex worker, that when Logan ran off to do a “job” it was prostitution? That Sheridan had come to accept this, almost without comment. That… Logan really was like a brother to him. Or something more.
“Chay!” Sheridan called.
It was time to take things in hand.
Chay had arrived an hour earlier. Casey, who was asking no questions these days, had picked him up from school and brought him to the house. He was at the computer as usual, and he turned around.
“We need to talk.”
“We already talked,” Chay said.
“Well,” Sheridan let the rest of the thought form, “we need to talk again. Right now.”
Chay sighed and saved his work and then came out of the heated solarium.
“Whaddo you want to talk about. You said everything.”
“We’re still… Chay, it doesn’t seem like we’re friends anymore.”
“We’re not friends anymore,” Chay told him.
“We need to take care of stuff. We need to get back to…”
“Where we were?” Chay raised an eyebrow. The small boy folded his arms over his chest. “Let me guess. We need to get back to where you feel comfortable?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“But it’s what you meant.”
Sheridan sighed.
“Everything has to be the way you want it. The way you need it. And I’m not interested in that,” Chay turned around and headed back to the solarium
“Chay,” Sheridan came to him.
“What now?”
“What if… What if I told you I need time? What if I told I was wrong, but maybe we could… Maybe we could work things out. That… I don’t even see Shelley anymore cause I told her…” he whispered, looking around, “that I think I’m turning gay?”
Chay barked out a laugh.
“You french me for my thirteenth birthday, fuck me on Christmas, work in a gay porn studio and you THINK you might be turning gay? That’s fucking funny, Sher.”
“I need time. I need…You could give me time, and maybe one day… we could be something.”
Chay looked at him, his mouth open. Sheridan waited for an answer.
“Chay, say something.”
“Fuck,” Chay said.
“I don’t know. Since I was a little kid I wished you’d turn around and say something like that to me. I used to dream about that. On Christmas I thought… something’s happening. And now, you tell me that one day, possibly soon, something might happen between us.”
“I didn’t mean it that way!”
“After you’ve fucked half of this town. After you’ve made yourself totally happy because it’s all about you, Sher?”
Sheridan didn’t answer.
“I’m glad,” Chay said, “that you came to me. That you said this to me. Because now I know what I wouldn’t have. What I probably wouldn’t have understood even today if you hadn’t just said what you said right now.
“I don’t want you. I had you. What I had was the best part. I don’t want any more.”
Chay turned around, and heading back to the solarium he said, “Now I gotta get back to work.”

The whole time Brendan drove, Layla tried to remember the name of the store. It was on the edge of downtown, right where the most ruinous parts faded into the factories of the southeast side and a few blocks up from the bus depot, the restaurants, bars, library and Saint Agatha’s, whose steeple dominated the distance.
“I don’t think it has a name,” Brendan said, peering out over Layla’s window.
It was very late afternoon, and the curbs were piled with grey snow. People, more than likely homeless, definitely rumpled by life, walked the streets or walked in the streets and as Brendan turned up Reck Street, the Salvation Army and an old tavern across from them, Layla thought that she would not like to be here at this time of day by herself. They parked in the lot behind the long two storey brick building where the strange shop was.
“Here we go,” Brendan said. He almost slipped in the icy slush as he came rounded the car to get Layla, then he balanced himself and offered his arm. They went up the snow covered sidewalk. The first store front window was empty of anything. The next boarded, the third had instruments but seemed to be closed and then here they were at the right shop, and when Brendan opened the door the bell jingled and heat came out and it was the first alive thing they’d seen in that part of town.
“Wow,” Brendan murmured, putting his hands in his pockets.
The main window was half curtained in paisley patterns and there were intricate rugs all over the floor. On stands and on shelves were thick candles, some tie dyed, some ivory colored, some shaped like globes. There were little tea candles in the walls and bags of herbs, shelves with Buddhas, racks of incense. Along the walls hung sheathed swords and on another wall were great tapestries, many wth Celtic patterns, others with patterns Layla didn’t understand. There were reproductions of paintings she’d known from college, posters like Claire once had of Pre-Raphaelite girls, faces lit, maidens ringed about by fairies, witches swooning, Ophelia’s, hair sprayed out in the water.
“Hello!” a gentle voice spoke in Layla’s ear, and she jumped up in surprise.
The girl laughed, but she wasn’t a girl. She was something like thirty and she looked so much like Adele, that Layla knew this was her sister.
“Welcome,” she said. “This must be your first time.”
Layla nodded, and then remembered herself.
“Yes.”
“Well, feel free to look around,” she said.
Layla had imagined this woman in flowing robes, but now she saw it was only a flowing, shimmering scarf around her throat. She had wild, beautiful hair like no Houghton woman wore, and glasses hanging from a chain around her neck.
She added, “Feel free to do… whatever.”
Brendan laughed at this. It was a strange laugh, not mocking. More like relief, and Layla looked at him. He looked very different. He was holding a little green tea light in his hand and a stick of incense in the other.
“I haven’t felt free to do whatever in a long time is all,” Brendan said. Then, “It was sort of like you were giving me permission.”
The woman laughed then too, and she clapped her hands and Layla did the same.
“We’re alike,” she said. “My name is Caroline.”
“Layla,” said Layla. But Brendan said, “My sister’s name is Carol.”
Caroline looked from Layla to Brendan, her face smiling as if she could barely suppress her joy.
“You all are a beautiful couple.”
“Oh…” Layla said, startled. “We… I have a boyfriend. Brendan and I aren’t… boyfriend and girlfriend.”
“How could you be?” Caroline said. “He’s gay.”
Brendan blinked.
“Don’t worry,” Caroline said to him. “There’s nothing… gay about you. I know how you all feel in the Midwest. I just… I just know. There’s a beautiful boy with red hair beside you. He’s strong and handsome and he’s always with you.”
Brendan looked at her narrowly, his head turning, curious.
“But,” Caroline said to Layla, “that doesn’t mean the two of you aren’t very much a couple. He’s been your faithful friend since… since you all were children.”
“You can’t know all that,” Brendan said, keeping a check on his voice, feeling, actually, a little violated.
“I can,” she said. “But I don’t know how. I know what I know, and I used to think everyone was like me.”
Caroline shrugged.
“It took me a very long time to figure otherwise.”
Brendan said nothing.
“I didn’t mean to offend you,” she added.
Brendan shook his head.
“It’s alright,” he said. “It’s… we all want to believe so bad. And then when something out of the ordinary really does happen, we shut it down. His name is Kenny. The guy with the red hair. He… was out of the ordinary. Not in the plans. I shut him down once. I screwed a lot of things up.”
Caroline nodded, knowingly.
“I know what it’s like to not be like everyone else,” Brendan went on. “To say things you think everyone knows. Or feels, and then find out they’re wrong. Different.”
He added, pointing to Layla, while Caroline smiled: “So does she.”
“And me?” Layla said, almost desperately, “What do you see in me?”
“That you came to me for a reason.”
Layla waited, knowing she wasn’t finished.
“You think you know,” Caroline continued. “You think you know why you’re here. But you don’t.”

MORE SATURDAY/SUNDAY. HAVE AN EXCELLENT WEEKEND!

 

[CharmedFan28]

That was a great second portion! I am glad Sheridan and Chay talked. I hope that if they don't get together (which I still hope they do) that they can at least be friends. Seems like Layla isn't enjoying college much. I hope she finds something she likes about it. Layla's sister Caroline is interesting. I can't wait to read why she thinks Layla is there. Excellent writing as usual and I look forward to more in a few days! I hope you have an excellent weekend too!

 

[ChrisGibson]

Layla's state for this book is one of searching and therefore of frequent unhappiness. She tries to be a wife, and now she tries to be a student. She just hasn't found her thing yet, which is what I remember my twenties being like. Brendan has more or less found his thing. Layla is still looking for hers. I'm so glad you enjoyed. You have no idea how happy that makes me. I love sharing Rossford with you, and in a few days there will be more or Layla, more of Caroline, more of them all. Have a great weekend.

 

[ChrisGibson]

NINE
HIGHER
EDUCATION CONTINUED

Sheridan was half asleep on the couch in the first filming bedroom when he got a nudge and blinked.
“Hey, sleepy head,” Logan looked down at him.
“I was done and I waiting for you,” Sheridan sat up, knuckling his eyes. “How did everything go?”
“Only in Indiana!” Logan said. “It was truly… strange. You and Chay wanna go out?”
“Firstly,” Sheridan sat up, “Me and Chay will never go out again. He doesn’t want anything to do with me. He’s made that very clear.”
“Aw,” Logan said, then put a hand over his mouth because he hated people who said “Aw.”
“Well, we can go out,” Logan said, touching Sheridan’s knee. “Least I can do after you waited up for me. And we can both talk about our crummy days.”
“You have crummy days?”
Logan, who was already standing up, raised an eyebrow and frowned. “You’re joking, right?
Sheridan followed him out of the room. It was grey and black alternately, no lights on, and the sun definitely down.
“Where do you want to go?” Logan asked. “Some nice little restaurant on Main.”
Sheridan shook his head. “Someplace like where we went before. Some little hole.”
Logan told him. “I know just the place. It’s between a hell hole and a cozy spot. Not far from my apartment. Okay?”
“Do I get to see your apartment?”
“Sure,” Logan said. “If you want.”
“I could drop my car off at my folks,” Sheridan said. “So we can go in the same one. It’s no sense taking two cars. We can’t really talk to each other on the way if we do that.”
Then, standing in the grey blackness, looking out of the window over the landing where the sun set deep fiery tangerine into a blue black sky, Sheridan said, “You know, I always get scared… at twilight. I don’t know why. It makes me cringe a little.”
“Me too,” Logan said in a light voice.
“But not with you,” Sheridan said. “I never feel scared with you.”


“When silly people come to me asking about finding the love of their life, or getting more money, then it’s twenty to fifty dollars,” Caroline said. “But for you, my sister, it is urgent.”
When she said ‘my sister’ Layla trembled. She and Brendan sat with Caroline about a round table that was covered in a shimmering cloth, and the light of the squat ivory colored candle glowing on Caroline’s face while she turned over the large, felt backed cards.
“These three in the middle are all from the Major Arcana. I don’t expect you to know what that is, and it doesn’t really matter. Death, the Wheel of Fortune, the Fool. At your base, the Nine of Swords, this woman weeping by herself in the night. Above it, the Ten of Cups. See this rainbow above them. Now… these last four, this little path right here? The High Priestess, the Eight of Cups, the Queen of Cups. And see, the Four of Cups. And notice on the other side is the seven of Cups. And notice how in both of those a cup is veiled, one isn’t being seen. Pay attention to that, Layla.
“Death is an end. The Fool is a beginning. They are tied together. The Fool doesn’t know what she’s doing, doesn’t look good on paper, so to speak, doesn’t have much of a plan. All she knows is it’s time to start over. And look, the Eight of Cups. The same thing. It is one walking away from the past, even though it seems much too late to walk away from it. Even though it seems like nothing new could or should happen, she walks away. And the High Priestess, the deep Virgin Wisdom. That’s you. That’s you and all your good sense, you and the intuition, the wisdom you forgot you had, that never steers people wrong, that doesn’t steer you wrong when you listen to it. See, he knows.”
Beside her Brendan nodded appreciatively at Layla.
“She always knows,” he said.
“But the Four of Cups and the Seven. They mean a gift you didn’t know you had. They mean a destiny you never looked at. They means gifts you never though about. They mean that so much is in front of your face.”

As they left the store and night was drawing on, Caroline clasped Layla’s hand.
“It is not given to me to know things I shouldn’t, things precious to others,” she said. “And your business is your own. But I feel that there is a thing you have to tell me, but are not ready to tell me yet.” Caroline frowned. “I don’t know why. But… when it is time, come to me. Come to me before it is time. Come to me often, Layla. And you too,” she added to Brendan.
“We are the same thing,” she said.
She smiled, and bid them good night.

“So this is where you live,” Sheridan said, walking around the cluttered apartment. “This is where the magic happens.”
“No magic happens here,” Logan chuckled.
The apartment was reached by a rickety stair, and it stood over an old bait shop on the east end of town. It was distinctly unlived in, a place where clothes and magazines were scattered and half attempts at decorating and arranging second hand furniture had been made.
“This is the place where I crash,” Logan told him, falling on the collapsed sofa. “And then the fucked up thing is I crash, wake up and start all over again. I heard this prostitute once say she did what she did because she was… how did she put it? ‘Fundamentally lazy.’ I feel like being a normal person would be so much less work.”
“Did you ever think about it?” Sheridan asked, sitting beside him. “Woah, this seat is low.”
“Right?” Logan chuckled. “Springs are shot. I swear, I’m going to get a new sofa one day soon.
“Did I ever think about a normal life?”
“I mean,” Sheridan said, “I always wanted to know how people get into something like this.”
“Were you thinking about doing it too?’
And then Logan said, “Sorry, I’m being a smart ass.”
He was reflective. Quiet a moment.
“It’s a fair question,” Logan admitted.
“I… let’s see. I stripped as soon as I was legal. I was a dancer at a club. There are like a hundred worse things you can be. It was odd at first, but someone told me I might be good at it. That was a high. I mean, I’d seen male strippers, and the idea that I could be one was kind of neat. And you know, it doesn’t matter what you look like in high school, it’s just not great to be gay. You never exactly feel attractive. So, here I am, taking my clothes off, and for the first time I actually do feel wanted. By women, by men. By men, that’s the real thing. And one night, in this club someone tells me, well, maybe you might like to make videos, be a model online. They don’t really just break out and say, ‘hey you wanna do porn?’ I’m thinking, sure I could do that. Why couldn’t I?
“I go down to Florida, not California. And I do this really sexy shoot. It’s sexier and sexier. Start in your underwear, and then you’re showering and touching yourself. Sometimes you use sex toys. Somewhere along the line you’re masturbating. You keep sort of… being edged closer to doing something different, pushing the line. And you feel nervous, but you sort of want to cross that line. Before I know it I’m fucking myself with dildos and stroking my dick on camera, and I’m a hot new thing. Well, it’s only a skip and a jump away from would I like to be jacked off by another guy on camera or… you learn you get more money for blowing a guy. Well, he’s a hot guy, like you. Not like the hillbillies you knew who treated you so badly. Before you know it, you’re doing porn. And, well, the money gets better and better. I know that sounds odd to you, Sher. But it’s step by step and then it doesn’t feel weird anymore.”
“The escort thing?” Sheridan said.
“How did I start?”
“Yeah.”
Logan made a loop with his finger and said, “Well, now that’s the other way around. Almost a one-eighty.”
He looked at Sheridan.
“You’re actually listening.”
“Of course I am.”
“People never want to know this shit. People never… I don’t encourage it,” Logan said.
“I don’t understand.”
“I mean, I don’t encourage people knowing about me. Logan who lives here is separate from Logan who does what I do. My clients and stuff, they don’t ask about how I ended up here. They don’t ask about my… aspirations or any of that. They don’t know, and they don’t want to know. And I don’t want them to know.”
“But I’m not a client.”
“I know,” Logan said. “But… I don’t really have anyone who would want to know that much about me is all. You know?”
Sheridan didn’t know, but he was starting to. He nodded.
“Extra money is good, and the whole thing about being an escort was its less work than films. I mean you get more sex work, but you have to prepare for it less. I’m not like a high price whore, not most of the time. I don’t have to wax and trim and all of that like I might have to do for a movie. I just show up like this,” Logan held out his tattooed arms, “except with a shower. And I get paid. There’s no camera, no lights. And it is far easier to be what your parents would die if they knew you were. They think it’s so humiliating, but they don’t really know what they’re talking about.”
“Then I could do it.”
Logan looked at him sharply.
“I mean… “ Sheridan shook his head. “I don’t know what I mean. I mean, I’d be afraid to, but you make it look so exciting. You’re so… You’re good. You’re cool. But… And so is Casey. But, I’d be afraid. I mean… I’m stupid. We should go to dinner. I shouldn’t have gotten nosey. I thought I understood. I’m a dumb kid. I’m dumb.”
“No, you’re not, Sheridan.”
Sheridan was quiet.
“The truth is the one thing we all have in common is we are on the edge. Playing with fire. It’s fire. Everything we’re doing is… precarious. I’m not afraid of getting a disease. I’m safe. I’ve always been safe. I used to be afraid of getting killed or something, being attacked. Or maybe becoming a drug addict. Half of Casey’s guys are fucked up. But these days that is not what I’m afraid of. Do you want to know what I’m afraid of?”
“Sure,” Sheridan said, and instantly thought he sounded stupid.
“Casey had a guy, years ago. And he loved him. And they couldn’t make it work out. It was either the porn or the guy, and Casey chose porn. And now I wonder if he’s really going to ever have anyone. And I see all these guys and… it’s like everyone is such a romantic. We’re all thinking about falling in love and none of us seems to be able to hold onto a boyfriend because no matter what he says when he meets us, he thinks we’re going to give it up, but we can’t give it up. And you lose your boyfriends. You lose your real friends. You lose your life. Nothing belongs to you. I used to be afraid I’d lose my soul or something. I’d be this jaded soulless creature, but that’s not true. I think a lot of us try to lose our souls. We try real hard, but they keep coming back and… I have a soul, Sher. I have so much soul. And it doesn’t own anything. Everything I do is fake. Everything is. I just…”
Sheridan was very quiet while Logan fumbled with words.
“I just want to kiss somebody with the camera turned away. I want something that’s mine.”
“Well, then kiss me.”
“There’s so much in my head, and I’m not explaining it very well. And…”
“Kiss me,” Sheridan said again.
And then Logan said, “Alright.”
And he did, and Sheridan felt Logan’s mouth against his, and the strength of Logan’s body was against him. It felt so good, and he pulled Logan’s face down, and Logan’s body was over him, and his tongue was in Logan’s mouth. He was tasting his mouth, and his hands were under Logan’s shirt, and he was pulling his body to him.
“Sheridan,” Logan said, his voice partially muffled, trying to pull away.
“No,” Sheridan pulled Logan to him.
They were twisted together, and they fell off the sofa, Logan bumping into the little coffee table.
“You alright?”
“Yeah,” Logan said, hitting his knee.
Sheridan took him by the hand and went into the bedroom. Pulling his face down, he started kissing him again.
He reached for Logan’s belt.
“Hey!” Logan said.
“Hey what?” Sheridan shook his head, dazed.
“Sheridan,” Logan said in a serious tone.
“Come on,” Sheridan said.
Logan shook his head, looking a little lost. It was dark and Sheridan had a hard time making out his features.
Sheridan unbuckled his jeans, and then Logan leaned forward and kissed him again. He let Sheridan pull down his jeans. He didn’t have on any underwear. Sheridan opened his legs for Logan and let Logan position him. Sheridan heard the tearing of a condom wrapper, and then there was something else, and then he gasped as a slick finger entered him. Logan’s mouth was on him, and then they were both pulling off each other’s clothes, and they were together. Logan smelled like stale sweat, but he also held that old familiar smell, and then Sheridan gasped.
“Is it alright?” Logan’s voice was panicked. “Is it alright?”
“It doesn’t hurt,” Sheridan said. “Not really.”
“It’s not supposed to,” Logan’s voice was shallow and desperate. Sheridan wanted to say something to him. He wanted to shout out something about I love you I love you, or… but it was more than that. He wanted to be so close, and then it all went out of his head as, with a groan, Logan went deeper inside of him, slowly, thickly, stretching, filling him with the solidness of his cock, and then Logan was moving in him, gently, and he was clinging to Logan’s back, and neither one of them was saying anything. All there was was this being opened, this being the thing filled. All there was was Logan’s waist between his thighs, Logan’s mouth on his, Logan’s body pressed to his.
The mattress and the bedsheets above him, Logan’s body pressed to him, Logan’s cock inside of him, the creaking of the bed, the pressing of their bodies together, Sheridan was aware of everything. Every part of this was its own little eternity. Logan’s mouth on his was a forever, his moaning was a forever, Logan’s hands clasped in his as they held each others hands was another universe.
“I…” Logan’s voice came out in pants. “I’m about to come…” His voice was tender.
Sheridan didn’t say anything. He had become something. He had become what he never was with a girl. What he hadn’t been with Chay. He was this giving, open thing. He was this thing open to Logan, whom he loved even if he didn’t dare say it.
“I’m about to come,” Logan whispered again. And Sheridan’s hands stroked his hair, stroked his back, and then Logan let out a shout. He moaned, and his body twisted and shook. He emptied himself, trembling for a long time, and then together, panting, in the darkness of the bedroom, they lay silent.

 

[CharmedFan28]

Wow Sheridan and Logan! I did not see that coming. Who knows if it will lead to a relationship but at least they are having fun together. It was good to read Caroline and Layla interacting more. I hope to see more of that. Logan talking about his life made me feel a bit sad for him. I hope he gets a boyfriend one day. Great writing and I look forward to more soon! I hope you are having a nice weekend!

 

[ChrisGibson]

I don't now if they're having fun, but they are having sex. Logan and Sheridan are now in a relationship, though the nature of it has not been revealed. I don't know if you can tell this by now or not, but I am not one of those people who believes in the idea of solid lines and people declaring "we are now together". That isn't realistic, and there really isn't much of a way to determine the nature of a relationship until it has gone on for some time, or until it is over. As for Layla and Caroline, Caroline is gifted with far more than the natural senses, and very right when she said Layla thought she was coming for one thing but is finding another. Layla has lost all intuition and is in need of a high priestess, but another thing Caroline is doing is setting us up for someone who has not come onto the stage, but will be important in later chapters.

 

[CharmedFan28]

Thanks for clarifying. I don't know where the story is going at the moment but I think it is a good thing to be surprised. I am glad that Logan and Sheridan have each other whatever their relationship is.

 

[ChrisGibson]

CONCLUSION OF CHAPTER TEN



“Honey,” Bill Affren said, knocking on his daughter’s bedroom door. “You’ve got a visitor.”
Meredith looked at her father, waiting for further explanation, but he said, “I don’t know. One of your schoolmates.”
She nodded. Dad was just very barely starting to go silver. He’d always had wavy, very blond hair, and so his age was hard to tell. Now she closed her math book, wished it was history instead and vaguely thought of how good it would be to give up math after this year, and then left her room and went down the long hall, down the stairs to where—
“Kip?”
—was waiting in the foyer.
“Your Dad said I could come into the living room and wait,” Kip told her. “But… It seemed like you might not appreciate that.”
Meredith stood before Kip.
“Look,” Kip said, “I know what you think of me. And… You’ve got a right. You are right. I wasn’t brave. I did something. But I didn’t do everything I could have. Now I am. I’m going to court. I’m going to court, and I’m going to tell the truth. And… And it’s going to make me look real bad. And I’m scared. And I’m embarrassed. More embarrassed than I ever would have been that night. Because now the whole world’s going to know.”
Meredith sat down on the steps.
“You don’t… have to tell everything.”
“I do,” Kip said. “I can’t tell the truth about everything and not tell my part.”
“Look, I know you didn’t…” Meredith’s face contorted, and it was a few moments before she could speak again.
“I know you didn’t rape her. She… she was grateful to you. You did what you could. Or, at least, you did what you knew you could. I know I was mad. I still don’t know how I feel. And how I feel doesn’t really matter. But… You did what you thought you could—”
“And now I’m going to do whatever I can again,” Kip told her.
He looked down at his shoes, saying nothing for a while.
“I just wanted you to know,” he said. “I thought you should. I’m not sure why I thought so, but… I did.”
Meredith nodded, her lips closed tight.
“I… I better go now,” Kip said. “I gotta big day tomorrow. Good night, Meredith Affren.”
He went to the door, and Meredith got up.
“Let me at least let you out. Walk you to the car.”
“Thanks,” he said.
“You too.”
He looked at her.
“I mean, thank you, Kip. For…” she shook her head. “Thanks.”

After a little time of quiet, Logan began kissing him up and down. He went further and further down.
“What are you doing?” Sheridan said, half asleep.
“You made me happy. And now I want to make you happy.”
His hands went down to Logan’s hair to stop him.
“You don’t have to do that,” he said.
“But don’t you want me to?”
“I want you to not feel like you have to give anything back.”
Logan’s head was on his stomach.
“I want you to have something for free,” Sheridan said. “Because I wanted to give it.”
Logan’s head remained on Sheridan’s stomach. They drifted into a doze until Logan said, “Shouldn’t you call your parents?”
“Why?” Sheridan chuckled. “To let them know where I am?”
Logan rolled to his side.
“To let them know you’re not dead. Or something.”
“I told them I was staying with Chay.”
In the darkness, Sheridan could make out the change on Logan’s face.
“Did you plan this?” Logan said.
“I told you I hoped it would happen. I didn’t plan it. But… I guess I made room for anything to happen.”
“Did you like it?” Logan asked him. “Did you really like it?”
“Yes,” Sheridan said.
Sheridan hurt, more than he had that first time with Chay. He hurt and he was a little afraid of going to the bathroom, but he wanted it again, and the throbbing could not be separated from the memory of giving himself to a friend, of having Logan inside him
Sheridan was quiet, and then he said, “But I am really hungry right now.”
“Me too.”
“Whaddo you have to eat?”
“I don’t cook,” Logan said.
“Well, you gotta have something.”
Sheridan climbed out of the bed. and pulled on his underwear. He pulled on his jeans and went out of the bedroom. As Logan began to dress, he saw the light come on in the kitchen and heard rumbling in the cabinet. When he came out of his room, Sheridan had pulled out a pan, two eggs and boullion cubes.
“We can make egg drop soup.”
“Like at the Chinese restaurant?”
“Just like. I saw Fenn Houghton make it once. It doesn’t take long at all.”
Sheridan set the water to boiling with the cubes in it and now and again he nudged them, stirred the water with a spatula, which Logan had in lieu of a spoon. As the steam went up into his face, Sheridan declared, “It’s ready.”
“Now the egg.”
He cracked one egg and then the next, into the water, and began stirring, which was hard with a spatula. Logan, arms folded over his bare chest, sat on the kitchen table watching.
“Is it ready?”
“Come and see,” Sheridan said.
Logan came and looked into the pot. He looked at Sheridan.
“It looks like… Eggs in water.”
“Yeah,” Sheridan agreed. “I think it needs thickening. Corn starch.”
“I don’t really keep corn starch in the house.”
“You can use flour instead.”
“How do you know all this?”
“My brother’s a chemist and my mom cooks a lot.”
Logan nodded.
He went through the cupboards and then pulled out a plastic bag.
“This could be flour… or pancake mix. Or maybe cocaine, but it’s a lot for cocaine, and I bet I wouldn’t have forgotten it if it was.”
Sheridan took the bag and stuck his finger in, tasting.
“I don’t know if its flour or pancake mix.” He spooned some in.
“Look. It’s thick. Look. It’s definitely thicker.”
“It sort of looks like…”
“Maybe it taste better than it looks,” Sheridan said.
“You wanna try it?”
“No,” Sheridan said, honestly. “But I feel like it’s my responsibility.”
Timidly, Logan handed him the spoon, and Sheridan dipped it into the thick mixture.
“Oh,” Sheridan’s face changed.
“We could go out,” Logan suggested.
“I think we better.”
Logan reached across Sheridan and turned the eye off.
“I’ll go shower up, and then we can go out some place on the Strip. And…”
“Yeah?”
“Were you…? Did you want to stay?”
Sheridan looked at him.
“Not if you don’t want me to.”
“No. No! No, I do want you to,” Logan said.
“Well, then yes.”
Logan nodded, looking pleased.
“I’ll go change the sheets, then. I’ll make the room look decent. Just… hang tight. It won’t take long.”
Taking off his jeans, and then his underwear, Logan left the kitchen for his bathroom.

 

[CharmedFan28]

That was a great conclusion to the chapter! I was glad to read that scene between Meredith and Kip. Kip may have done wrong but at least he is trying to do the right thing now. Sheridan and Logan are cute together. I don't know where their relationship is going but I am liking where it is now. Excellent writing and I look forward to more soon!

 

[ChrisGibson]

Well, we're wrapping this addition of Rossford up. Who knew it would come so fast? There's a lot that will be happening in these last three chapters. Sheridan and Logan are finally starting something, and Casey and Chay seem to very much be in the middle of something. What's better? Logan and Sheridan or Sheridan and Chay?

 

[CharmedFan28]

Sheridan and Chay is better but Logan and Sheridan are growing on me.

 

[ChrisGibson]

I actually didn't think my comment made it online because I was posting just as things were shutting down. Well, as for what happens in Rossford... we will see.

 

[ChrisGibson]

TEN



MAGIC


LAYLA HATED TO WAKE UP this way. Will lying beside her was supposed to help, but it didn’t. She was in trembles so bad her head hurt. It happened all the time. It happened for no good reason. Shit without logic, just confusion and worry. What if and what if and what if. She needed to breathe.
Beside her Will went on sleeping.
“The Queen of Cups,” Layla remembered. It was all going out of her head what that meant. Everything Caroline had said.
She wasn’t afraid around Caroline.
Well that was it. Like Brendan when he walked in and laughed. When he said he felt like he’d been given permission to do what he wanted. In her life Layla realized she didn’t feel much like she’d had any permission.
“You have to get some roots,” her father had said. “You have to put your feet on the ground.”
She seemed so care free, like something wild and great was going on inside of her. But what she was was rootless. What she was was looking for a thing she didn’t know how to get. And in the end she had nearly married. Marriage was supposed to take care of the longing.
More than that, marriage would make her who she was supposed to be. So she’d jumped into it, and that wasn’t like the old her.
She put on a housecoat. It was cold in here. It was damn near freezing. She turned the heat on as she entered the hallway, and went to sit in the living room.
“That’s Layla, she always knows what to do.” That’s what Brendan had said.
But lately she didn’t. Lately everything she did was foolish. She yawned, frustrated by the yawn that meant she wasn’t awake enough to be out of bed, but not sleepy enough to be content in it.
“Layla,” she heard Will’s voice. He was half asleep.
She turned around on the sofa, and looked to him.
“I can’t sleep,” she said.
He nodded and came to sit by her.
“I used to know what was going on,” she said. “I used to know what I was all about. Or some of what I was about.”
“And now you’re back in school.”
“That’s a cover up. And there’re a lot of people who can live in a cover up. But I can’t. I can’t confuse who I am with who I’m… hoping to be? Is that it?”
Will pulled her close to him, and placed an arm over her shoulder.
“It is more than that,” she said. “Today I knew. Today things were alright.”
“When you met your sister?”
“Yes. For the first time more than any time. More than… going to church or any of that, I knew who I was. I felt planted. That doesn’t make any sense, does it?”
“Well, now, Layla, most people don’t really care about feeling planted.”
“No, but I do. Because I was. Today. Everything made so much sense, and all of my fear dropped away.
“She said… Caroline said, that I thought I’d come to her for one reason—which I did. But that it wasn’t the real reason. I have to go back to her.”
“And are you going to tell her the truth?”
“Well, if I don’t,” Layla said, “how long before that turns into a lie? I’ve got to.”
She took a deep breath and pulled her housecoat tighter around her.
“I feel a lot better. I feel like… Like I know what I have to do. Like going to her is what I have to do. Like it’s… the thing that matters. Does that make any sense?”
Will nodded. He wasn’t sure if it made sense or not, but it did to her, which was what mattered.


Paul went upstairs to look over his sleeping children, and Noah followed.
In the dark, over where Bennett slept, Paul sat on the other side of the bed, watching him.
Noah sat on the nightstand.
“This seems like a million miles from where we used to be.”
Paul nodded.
“Was it easy? Telling Chay?”
“No,” Noah said. “And now he’s working for Casey. So…” Noah shrugged, looking somewhat defeated.
“I have no idea how my kids are ever going to hear about it,” Paul said. “You know what it feels like? It feels like a whole other world. When I went off to California, and then when I was working for Guy, it was like I had decided that the normal world wasn’t for me. I didn’t have any place in it. And… it was crap anyway. We were messing around in the toilet of the normal world. We were in the drainpipes and trash cans no one wanted to look at. And then, all of a sudden, we were at Eagle Studios. We had found a way to have some kind of power. It was two billion times better than turning tricks. And now…” Paul shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Noah, what’s it like? Chay working there. Around all that. How are you with it?”
“Casey says he looks after him and…”
“You’re not alright with it,” Paul whispered across the bed.
Noah looked down at Bennett, and then motioned for the two of them to leave the room and Paul, nodding, got up and went out into the hall with Noah, who closed the bedroom door behind him.
“Really, I don’t know what else I can do about it.”
“If you didn’t like it, then you could say no. That’s for starters.”
Noah nodded.
“But?” Paul said, picking up on Noah’s mood.
“He’s almost fifteen. This is a small town. If he wanted to keep working there, I couldn’t stop him. And all he would tell me is how I did the same thing. How I did more than that.”
In the dark, Paul’s face went very hard. He said, “Well, I’m sorry. But I’m not going to be afraid to tell my kids what’s what when the time comes.”
“Well, good for you, Pauly,” Noah said sourly.
Reproofed, Paul shut up.
“Besides,” Noah said. “It’s gone beyond that.”
“Beyond?”
Noah didn’t speak right away. He was surprised by how ashamed he felt, how afraid he was to speak.
“I think that Chay’s having sex with Casey.”


“I’m Cecile,” the girl offered her hand after class.
“You looked interesting,” she continued. “I saw you and I knew I had to say something.”
Layla smiled at her and offered her hand.
“Layla Lawden.”
“You know,” Cecile said, shifting her purse, “the thing is you don’t say a lot, but when you do it’s something worth saying.”
“We’re not even out of the first week of class,” Layla told her.
“I know. But already it’s a lot of people who keep on talking and nothing’s coming out.”
Layla laughed and asked, “Where are you headed?”
“That little lounge downstairs. Then a science class I do not want to take, but that my boyfriend says is good for me.”
“Your boyfriend goes here?”
“Not here. We live together,” Cecile said, as they went down the hall. “Like married, but as my mother would remind me, not married. I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I’ve been meaning to get around to it.”
“I know what you mean,” Layla smiled. Then, “Actually, I guess I don’t. I… Well, I guess I live with him now. He was my first boyfriend from back in high school.”
“Same with me and Ryan!”
“Really?”
“Yes. We screwed up everything for years. Then we got together.”
Layla touched Cecile’s arm.
“Well, that’s just the way it is for us. He was my boyfriend in high school. We broke up senior year,” Layla said as they began heading down the steps. “And when I was getting married he came and broke up the wedding.”
“That’s dramatic as hell.”
“I know. And then I went and slept with him. And then he moved into my house. And I said he was my roommate who just happened to be my boyfriend, but that sounds a whole lot like living together, and I love him to death, though I never tell him.”
“Why don’t you?” Cecile said.
Layla stopped.
“You’d better tell him, Layla.”
Cecile cocked her head.
“You remind me… a lot of my sister.”
“I never had a sister.” Cecile said. “The closest thing I had to a sister looks nothing like me. She’s very Irish and I’m very Black… so.”
“I think Dena’s a little bit Irish.”
“What’s that?”
“My oldest friend,” Layla said. “Yeah… I know what you mean.
“I tell you what,” Layla told her, “when I met you I was almost afraid you’d come up here and tell me how two sistuhs have to stick together. Then we could… I don’t know, hate white people and feel misunderstood together.”
Cecile laughed and shook her head.
“Naw,” she said. “But if it suits you, we can hate everyone in that class. I already feel misunderstood.”

Brendan found them at lunch, and he sat down at the table between them.
“This is Cecile Turner,” Layla said. “She is in my English program feeling as confused as I am. We have chosen to bond over that.”
“Also we both have white boyfriends,” Cecile said. “And that,” she rolled her eyes, “is its own thing.”
“You never think its gonna happen till it does,” Layla shook her head.
“Hey, I’ve got a white boyfriend,” Brendan said.
Cecile waved a finger. “I’ve heard all about you, Brendan Miller.”
“Hopefully good things.”
Cecile shrugged, and Layla burst out laughing at the look on Brendan’s face.
“So are you ready?” she said to him.
“Yeah.”
“Then I’ll see you next week?” Cecile said, taking a last sip from her cola, and standing up.
“One last class for me.”
When Cecile was gone, Layla turned to Brendan.
“You feel like no one will understand you,” Layla explained. “Like it’s all crap. And then you’re opened up to a whole other world.”
“And Layla!”
Cecile had turned around and shouted.
Layla nodded.
“Tell Caroline the truth,” Cecile said, and then she was gone.

 

[CharmedFan28]

Layla seems to be lost at the moment. I hope she can find her way out of that and be honest with Caroline. So Noah's suspects about Chay and Casey? It sounds like whatever happens next with that situation is going to be big! Great writing and I look forward to the next portion!

 

[ChrisGibson]

As Donald Trump would say, it's going to be really big! Layla is more lost than she's ever been before. She has the house and the man, but not really her purpose yet. She's really just sort of stuck. Everyone is, because Layla isn't acting, and neither is Noah, even though he knows what's going on. They aren't the only ones who are holding back. We'll see more in the rest of the chapter. Thank you for reading. I hope you're having a great day.

 

[ChrisGibson]

CHAPTER TEN CONTINUED

Logan squeezed himself and then, curling into a tight ball, released himself and turning to Sheridan, chuckled.
Naked, Sheridan pulled some of the sheet over himself and turned on his side.
“When I started all this,” Logan said, “it was because I figured… Well, I like sex. So why not? And you know what the irony of it is? Most of the sex I have is so mediocre. A lot of it is out and out bad. Some stuff is just bizarre. You name it, I’ve done it. Once an Amish guy came to a hotel just to watch me strip and masturbate. A college professor from Valpo liked to sit in the bathtub and be pissed on. You think it’s weird at first, but it’s your job, and what can it hurt? Sex is a job for me. You just shrug and get to work. You forget it can be good.”
“And with me?”
“You’re fishing for compliments?”
Sheridan grinned sheepishly and traced shapes on the bedsheet.
“Maybe.”
“With you it’s better than good. It’s just cool,” Logan placed a hand on Sheridan’s arm. “Everything we do is cool.”
“I wonder,” Sheridan murmured. “Maybe I was the same.”
“Hum?”
“Maybe it was just a job for me too.”
Logan lay back and looked at him.
“I always felt like I was going to work. Making a performance.” He shook his head. “Now I feel so dumb. Now I feel sort of like an idiot.”
“You feel like an idiot at this very moment?” Logan tapped the bed sheet.
“No,” Sheridan said. “I feel like an idiot for trying to be someone else. For the boxes of condoms, the people I hurt and the reputation I wasted trying to be someone else.”
Logan pressed himself to Sheridan. His hand went between Sheridan’s thighs and the boy gasped and shuddered. Logan’s hand remained there, stroking, thrusting a finger up into Sheridan’s ass while Sheridan closed his eyes, and his mouth opened a little. Logan thrust his tongue into Sheridan’s mouth and kissed him while his hand worked him. Slowly he parted from him.
“And now…” Logan asked him. “How do you feel?”
Logan’s fingers still held his penis, thumbing it, and Sheridan’s eyes were closed while his mouth rested, half open in pleasure, on Logan shoulder. Sheridan trembled and moaned, while Logan kissed him up and down.
“Don’t tell me how you feel,” Logan murmured, then. “Just feel.”


Dan Malloy brought out the silver tray with its teapot and coffee cups, its porcelain bowls of sugar and cream.
“I haven’t used these in a very long time,” he said.
“And just for us,” Paul Anderson commented, while Noah looked curiously at the table service.
“For you,” Dan said with a shrug. “And for me. Possibly.”
They looked at him as Dan sat on the other side of the old, deeply polished table in the rectory of Saint Barbara’s.
“We once had a maid,” Dan noted, fingering one of the buttons on his bulky cardigan. “We felt really posh.” He laughed a little. “These days it’s sort of like I’m just hanging on until the end. How strange.”
While he talked he poured tea for Paul and Noah and said, “Now what brings you here?”
“It’s Noah, really.”
Dan looked at him.
“You gotta tell him, Noah. Dan is our friend. Dan is really the only person you could tell this to.”
“We could tell it to Fenn.”
“No,” Dan and Paul both said, and they looked at each other.
“I don’t even know why I said that,” Dan said. “I just… is it a delicate matter?”
Noah nodded.
“You have to talk,” Paul said.
Noah looked irritated, and then he said: “You know Casey Williams?”
Dan’s eyes narrowed. “I know of him,” he said, cautiously.
“You know he has a studio and things. Here, in Rossford?”
“I know enough. I know he and Keith took up with each other,” Dan murmured Keith’s name and hung his head when he spoke it. “And so Casey ended up staying here.”
“My son works for him,” Noah said.
“That is a problem,” Dan said.
“No,” Paul shook his head, “that’s not the problem.”
The priest blinked, waiting.
“I couldn’t much stop him,” Noah said. “Chay’s not my natural son anyway. And… he knows what I did. It excited him. Casey was always around, and Casey assured me he would watch after him. And a lot of those fellows I trust. If Chay’s going to be curious about stuff like that… well, then, it’s best to be curious there. And for me to know about it.”
Dan nodded. Noah could not tell if Dan agreed with him or was convinced by his argument. The priest had an excellent poker face.
At last, Dan said, “Noah, it seems like you’ve reasoned all of this out, then.”
“No,” Noah shook his head.
“You’ve changed since I first knew you,” Dan told him. “You were a boy. You thought you were so old and so jaded, but you were this wild boy and now…”
“And now I am the father of a wild boy. And… he’d do the same thing I would do. And I know Casey… I know him, He’s not bad. But…”
Dan’s eyes narrowed. Paul leaned in.
“Chay is gone all the time. Chay doesn’t come home. He says he’s at the Klaskos—you know—”
“Will and Sheridan’s parents.”
“Right. And Sheridan’s his best friend. But… What if he isn’t there?” Noah said, at last.
“You’d know if you called,” Dan told him.
“Yes,” Noah agreed.
Dan said, “You think Chay is spending too much time with Casey Williams?”
Noah said, “I think Chay is sleeping with Casey Williams.”

Distracted by fiddling with his broken glasses, Fenn looked up at them from across his kitchen table and said, “Then what the fuck is the problem? There’s one way to figure it out. Ask him.”
“Casey or Chay?” Paul said.
“Who cares?” Fenn said. “That boy is banking on you not asking any questions. Be his father, or sit around and be worried.” Fenn shook his head. He watched Dylan walking around the kitchen to the refrigerator. As he looked at the tiny version of Tom, he said, “Nip that shit in the bud.
“Dylan?”
Dylan was in the midst of tipping the milk to his mouth.
“I forgot,” the boy said.
“I doubt that,” Fenn told him. “But it’s irrelevant.” He stood up and got a glass, and then reached out for the milk.
“Irrelevant,” Dylan repeated, testing the word on his mouth and deciding he liked it.
Fenn handed the boy the milk glass and said, “Where did you get that sweater from?”
Dylan looked down at it.
“Dad got it for me.”
Fenn tilted his head and said, “That doesn’t look like Tom’s style.”
Dylan looked at him.
Fenn shrugged. He put a hand in the boy’s hair.
“You need to get that cut.”
“Dad doesn’t think so.”
Fenn nodded. “He’s wrong about a lot of things. Have Lee take you to the barber’s tomorrow.”
“Sheridan’s taking me to the movies.”
“Well, then Sheridan will take you to get your hair cut first. Now go and drink your milk. We’re having grown up talk.”
Dylan looked at him forlornly, as if waiting for something and then went away and as the boy was leaving the kitchen, Fenn said, “Foolish me. Dylan, come back.”
Dylan came back to him and tilted his face up. Fenn bent his head and Dylan kissed the top of it.
“I forgot,” Fenn said to his son. “How rude of me. Now, go play.”
As Dylan left the kitchen, Fenn sat back down looking after his departing son and said, “Of course, you might want to take it up with Casey directly.”
Paul and Noah looked at Fenn waiting for an answer.
“I mean children lie,” Fenn said. “I did. You did. And Dylan just did too. About that sweater.”
Fenn’s bottom lip jutted out and he murmured, “I just wonder why.”


“Mom, can we get this?”
“No.”
“What about this?”
“No,” Tara said. She frowned into the grocery cart and said, “And what is this? Maia!”
She took the bag of cookies out of the cart and thrust them toward her daughter.
“Put this back.”
Maia frowned.
“You can frown if you want to,” her mother told her. “It’s alright. I don’t mind.”
Maia began to tramp back down the aisle dramatically.
“And Maia?”
Her daughter turned around and came back.
“You know prices now. So boxes of cereal over four dollars are out, boxes of cereal that look like desserts are out. Boxes of cereal with cartoon faces are out. Rice Krispies are out cause I don’t even like them.”
“I should just go help Dad shop.”
“Alright, go find him. He’s in the houseware aisle,” Tara motioned for her child to depart.
It had taken a long time for Tara to allow Maia to go off on her own in the grocery store and even now, with Todd only a few feet away, she had to fight off mortal terror that someone wouldn’t leap out from behind the mousetraps and take the child who had been forty years in the making.
When Maia was out of sight, Tara reached into her purse, took out her phone and dialed Todd.
“Tara?”
“Yes.”
“Maia’s coming to you. She’s going to try to get you to buy alot of this shit for her. Stay firm.”
“I’m always firm.”
“That’s such bullshit. All she has to do is bat her eyelashes for you.”
“She’s actually the only female who can do that—oh, here she comes. Here’s my girl!”
“Goodbye, Todd,” Tara said somewhat sourly, and hung up the phone.
She was coming down the aisle, scanning the cart for crap Maia had snuck inside it, and deciding to relent and get the cookies for her, that would be a nice surprise, when her cart nearly crashed into someone else’s.
“I’m so sorry—” she began.
But the other woman was saying the same thing.
The first things Tara noticed were her breasts, which were round and ample under a snug blue sweater. She knew those titties. She looked up.
“Tara,” the blond woman said, uncertainly.
Not knowing if she could still bare to say her name, Tara tried anyway.
“Melanie Fromm.”


“Where’s Brendan?” Caroline asked.
“He decided to stay home today.”
Layla sat down.
Caroline opened her mouth and then closed it, shaking her head and smiling.
“He feels like he’s not spending enough time with Kenny,” Layla explained.
“But then, you were going to say that. Weren’t you?”
“I think so,” Caroline told her with a smile.
“Mom!” A voice came from the back of the store.
Running her way around the tapestries, through the bookshelves and toward them, a light skinned girl in pigtails came up and Layla blinked.
“Can you say hello?” Caroline said to the girl, touching the top of her head.
“Laurel, this is Layla. Layla: my daughter, Laurel.”
Startled, Layla nodded her head and reached out to shake the little hand of the little girl.
The girl put a hand on her hip.
“Um um um,” Laurel said.
Layla blinked at her.
“You sure are pretty.”
“Thank you,” Layla said.
The girl nodded, “Mom, I can’t find the toaster pop ups.”
“That’s because there aren’t any. Go get yourself some cereal, and then you can go out with your friends.”
She nodded, and then she smiled at Layla and went away.
“She’s already made friends, and we’ve just been here a few weeks,” Caroline marveled.
“So what’s going on, Layla?”
“I’ve been having dreams,” Layla said. She sat down. “I suppose I’ve always had dreams, but I never paid attention to them. Now they’re very real. Things that weren’t real, that I didn’t pay as much attention to I do now. And I just keep remembering the way I felt the first time I came here. I felt right. But… Before I go on, I have to tell you something.”
“Alright,” Caroline said. Her face had been growing excited. But now she looked serious.
“Especially seeing Laurel, I have to tell you the truth.”
But just then the door opened with a loud clatter of the bell and both women shot up.
In walked a tall, bald man in a suit, and he blinked at Layla as she blinked at him.
“Layla!” he said, looking from her to Caroline, and Layla said:
“Dad?”

 

[CharmedFan28]

Wow, a lot going on in the story at the moment! I think Casey if he wasn't already is in big trouble now. I am glad Sheridan is happy with Logan. At first I was not sure if I liked them as a couple but I do now. Looks like Caroline and Layla and their Dad are finally going to all be honest with each other. Great portion and I look forward to the next one! Hope you are having a nice night!

 

[ChrisGibson]

A lot of stuff is definitely happening, and the jig seems to be up with Layla. Maybe it will be just what she needs. But it seems like the jig is up with everybody. Now Noah will have to take action, and Fenn, what in the world is going on with Dylan? More to come soon. Thank you for your nightly well wishes. It's been... a full evening seems the right word.

 

[ChrisGibson]

CHAPTER TEN

MAGIC

CONTINUED


“Casey, it’s someone here for you,” Logan said, leaning against the lentil of the door.
“Uh… A’right.”
Casey was actually doing to a film today. This was a rarity, and under a housecoat he was wearing red Jockeys a size too small. He’d been oiled down already and just popped a Viagra. Casey was in the zone, and didn’t want to be interrupted. And then he turned around, and there was Noah Riley standing before him, arms crossed.
“Can I help you, Noah?” he said.
There wasn’t much point in saying anything like, “What’s up?” or “How’s it hanging?”At any road, Casey was already sure he knew.
Noah shut the door behind him.
“I trust you to tell me the truth,” Noah said.
“Alright,” said Casey.
“What’s going on between you and my son?”
Casey didn’t say anything.
“I told you,” Noah repeated, “I expect you to tell me the truth.”
But Casey didn’t say anything.
“Is he here? Right now?”
“Actually, no,” Casey said.
“Are you sleeping with him?” Noah demanded. “Are you fucking a fifteen year old boy? I wanna know. I want you to tell me.”
Casey’s face looked hard. Not angry, but suddenly, somehow, more solid than before.
“You don’t want to know,” he said. “And you don’t want me to tell you. You can’t understand. You couldn’t.”
Noah didn’t say anything.
“Whatever you’ve known you always knew,” Casey went on, his voice a little unsteady. “You must have known. But you didn’t ask. You didn’t want to ask.”
“He’s my son.”
“I know.”
“He’s a kid.”
“No,” Casey said. “He’s not. He’s nothing like a kid. You know better than that. And… He’s not even fifteen anymore.”
Noah wasn’t looking at him.
“Noah,” Casey’s voice was quiet, but frantic. “He’s not a kid. And I can’t explain. He… he told me if someone didn’t… if someone wasn’t with him, he’d go and turn tricks. He’d be an escort or something. He told me he just wanted to be touched. He just wanted to be with someone. He asked to be with me. Cause he knew I wouldn’t hurt him.”
“And you think you didn’t hurt him?”
“Yes I do,” Casey said. “I wouldn’t do that. And… You don’t want to hear about this.”
“No. No, I don’t,” Noah said. “But you will tell me.”
“He said he wanted to be loved. He didn’t want me to be mechanical about it. And… I wasn’t. I told him it would be just once.”
“But it wasn’t just once.”
“No.”
“And now you, a grown man, are sleeping with my son.”
“Yes.”
Noah didn’t say anything for a while again, and then he said, “Does he love you?”
“I… don’t know.”
Noah nodded.
“Do you love him?”
Casey didn’t answer.
“Do you?”
“Yes,” Casey said. “Yes, I do.”
Noah nodded again, and then he turned around to leave.
“Noah!”
Noah turned around.
“What are you going to to?”
“Do? You mean like, am I going to shut all your shit down and turn you in to the police for statutory rape? Am I going to ruin your world? Am I going to take Chay away and send him off with James’ family? He’s got their last name after all. Or… will I just take off my belt and beat my slutty son within an inch of his life?”
Noah shrugged.
“I don’t know,” he said.
And then he opened the door, turned around, and left.

Adele and Fenn were sitting in his kitchen drinking coffee when the door opened when Layla entered followed by a slightly older woman and a little girl.
“Hello?” Fenn raised an eyebrow.
“Where’s Dylan and Todd?” Layla said.
“And hello to you, too,” Adele said.
“Oh,” Layla looked at her distractedly, “Hi, Mama. I wanted as much of the family here for this as possible. Sit, Caroline. Or do you want to stand?”
“I’m fine, Layla.”
“Dylan’s at the movies with Sheridan,” Fenn said, regarding the woman and her daughter. “And Todd’s out with Tara and Maia.”
“Oh,” Layla said. “This is Caroline. And this is her daughter, Laurel.”
“Pleased to meet you,” the girl stepped forward and took both Fenn and Adele’s hands.
“I like a girl who’s not timid,” Fenn said to her.
“Are you friends of Layla?” Adele asked.
“Well, yes,” Caroline allowed.
Layla said: “But it’s much more than that.”
“You’re a lesbian!” Fenn cried, clapping his hands and smiling at his niece. “I always thought—”
“No, I’m not a lesbian!” Layla said, while Adele stared at her brother. “Caroline is not my lover. She’s my sister.”
“Your what?” Fenn began while Adele shook her head and said, “That son of a bitch.”

“So Vanessa had you, and then gave you away?” Adele said.
“Yes,” Caroline said. “I ended up with a family from New Orleans. But they died and then I was in foster care and when I was old enough, I started to look up my blood family. It wasn’t as hard as it is for some people. I changed my name. My family’s name was Royce.”
“You changed it to Lawden?” Fenn said.
“No, I changed to Houghton, because that was Vanessa’s name.”
“And ours,” Adele said.
“Do you all know my mother?”
“Not really,” Fenn said. “I mean…. Things are complicated. I don’t—”
“I can’t stand the bitch,” Adele said, and then looking at Caroline and Laurel, she said, “I mean… we don’t really get on.”
“Our father had an affair with your mother’s mother,” Fenn explained. “So we never knew about Vanessa.”
“And then years later Vanessa was having an affair with my husband,” Adele continued.
“So Julian is my half brother,” Layla explained. “But he’s also my first cousin.”
Caroline blinked while Laurel ticked off names on her fingers, trying to make sense of it all.
“Incidentally, you are too,” Fenn told Caroline. “Julian’s your full sibling.”
“Who is married to my best friend, Claire,” Layla added.
“Who is the sister of my best friend, Paul,” Fenn continued.
“I have been able to forsee many things over the years,” Caroline began, turning to Layla. “But not this.”

“So, do you like this movie?” Sheridan whispered.
Dylan sucked noisily on the straw. They were at the back of the theatre, and it was nearly empty anyway. Finally he said, “Yup. But I wanted to see the one with the swords and stuff.”
“Your dad doesn’t want me to take you to that,” Sheridan told him.
“I know,” Dylan said in a sullen voice, slinking into his theatre seat. He was so small, he almost disappeared.
“Sheridan?”
“Yeah?”
“How come we don’t do stuff anymore?”
“Whaddo you mean?”
“You’re never around. Chay isn’t either.”
“I… Well, now I got work and everything.”
When Dylan didn’t say anything, Sheridan said, “But how about this? How about I’ll be around a lot more from now on? Alright?”
“Alright,” Dylan echoed.
“No, buddy, I’m serious. I’m sorry I haven’t been around.”
Dylan looked up from his seat, just the top of his head and his little eyes showing.
“What’s wrong, kid?”
“I thought you didn’t like me anymore.”
Dylan turned away.
“No! No!” Sheridan touched his shoulder. “Don’t you ever think that, alright? I’m so sorry. Okay?”
Dylan nodded.
“I’m serious, Dyl.”
“I know.”
Sheridan felt so bad for what Dylan had said. He hated the idea of hurting the little boy. He thought a moment, and then spoke.
“Hey,” Sheridan said, “You wanna go get something to eat after the movie?”
“Like at McDonalds?”
“No. Like at a real restaurant. On the Strip. My treat, okay? You can even meet my friend Logan if you want?”
“Okay,” Dylan nodded, looking serious. He suddenly felt very grown up, meeting Sheridan’s other friends.
“Sheridan?”
“Yeah, guy?”
“Are you and Chay still friends?”
“I hope so,” Sheridan said. “Things get complicated when you’re older is all. But you can meet Logan.”
“I never heard of him. Is he a secret friend?”
Suddenly, in the theatre, a thrill went through Sheridan’s body, the physical memory of making love with Logan. He was embarrassed to feel this in front of the boy and simply said, shaking, “Sort of a secret.”
“I have a secret friend,” Dylan said.
Sheridan’s face changed. His brows drew together.
“Whaddo you mean, Dylan?” he tried to keep his voice from being serious.
“She’s this lady,” Dylan said.
“Really?” Sheridan said, carefully.
“Yes,” said Dylan. “And she brings me presents sometimes. She has hair like Dad’s. Like Tom’s.”
Chay was the one person Sheridan was keenly aware of a need to protect. Dylan had never needed protection, but now he felt the anger, the cold edge in his voice that came when he tried to stop Chay from doing dangerous things, when he couldn’t believe Chay was doing something he shouldn’t. He took a deep breath.
“You know… you’re not supposed to talk to strangers.”
“But she’s not a stranger,” Dylan said in a slightly desperate voice.
Sheridan looked at the little boy.
“She’s my mother.”