The City of Rossford

[ChrisGibson]

CONCLUSION OF CHAPTER ONE


“It’s Thanksgiving tomorrow, which means the semester is nearly over.”
“I know,” Shelley said.
“Tonight we’re going to get up with Sean and your uncle-”
“Sean is my uncle.”
“Don’t be cute, and we’re going to go to Pennsylvania, and I’d just as soon have this discussion with you before we get on the road.”
Shelley nodded across the desk and pressed her fingertips together.
“You might as well not even come back, you’ve missed so much. And I just want to say that I’m surprised you thought you’d take advantage of our relationship to slack off. I would have thought that, because we are family, because I am, and I believe you said this, Shelley, your favorite uncle, you would respect me and my class.”
“Uncle—”
“Don’t,” Bryant Babcock put up a hand, and stopped doodling at his desk, “Uncle Bryant me.”


“I’ll be ready in a minute,” Chay said to Sheridan, who sat in the windowsill. “But I need to go talk to my Dad.”
Sheridan nodded, and Chay went out of the room.
He went downstairs to the kitchen and called, “Dad? Noah.”
Noah Riley, who was bending over the counter, breaking off bits of carrot and staring at a cookbook looked up.
“Hey, Guy.”
“We’re going to the hospital, alright?”
“Yeah,” Noah said. “Alright.”
When Chay continued to stand there, Noah said, “Is there something else?”
“Just… the way you were last night? When I got in.”
“I’m a parent.”
“James wasn’t like that.”
Noah put down the carrot.
“James is a much calmer person than I am,” Noah acknowledged.
“But it was more than that,” Chay said, approaching his father.
Noah seemed to be making a decision and finally he said, “You know what? It really doesn’t matter. Does it? Last night was a horrible night for all of us, and now it’s over, and you’re fine.”
“But Robin isn’t.”
“No,” Noah said, putting on a smile. “So you and Sheridan go down and make sure she’s alright. Help her get through it.”
Chay was quiet for a while and finally Noah said, “You have another question.”
“How did you get through it, Dad?”
Noah didn’t look shocked or hurt. He only said, “Very slowly. And somewhat painfully. And James helped. So, see, friends are everything.”
Chay said, “If you all hadn’t—”
Noah said, “But we did.”
The door opened and Danasia Burns entered.
“Does anyone ever knock?” Noah lamented.
“Maybe Anyone does, but I don’t know that bitch,” Danasia said. “Hello, Mr.Chay.”
“Hey, Danny, I’m on my way to the hospital.”
“Well,” she said, “you can’t get there if you don’t leave.”
Chay nodded and Noah shook his head.
“Sheridan!” Chay called, heading out of the kitchen.
“Kids,” Noah said, shaking his head.
“What…” Danasia rounded the island and came to stand beside her friend at the counter, “the hell are you making?”
“Carrot cake. Or trying to make it. For dinner tomorrow night.”
“Trying to make is right. You ever heard of a grater.”
“We don’t have one.”
“Well that’s just goddamned pathetic,” Danasia said. “How about this? Howabout we go over to the diner and steal one? Unless you want Fenn to talk about you real bad come tomorrow.”
“No,” Noah said, reflexively. “That’s something I probably don’t want.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“Whaddo we do with this?” Noah held his hands out of the mixture.
Danny put her hand in the bowl of broken carrots. “Snack. You still have that porn star body, right?”
“Shut up!” Noah put his finger to his lips and Chay shouted “We’re gone.”
The door slammed.
“He doesn’t know?”
“I never told him everything. He shouldn’t know. He’s my son. And yes, I still have the body. More or less.” Noah shook his head and smiled, wistfully, “the way James looks at me when I take off my clothes…”
“Better than back in the day when all of those men did?”
“Actually?” Noah raised an eyebrow, “yes. And only because it’s James. I don’t know, Mr. Lewis always had that hold on me. I feel like the sexiest man alive when… Well,” Noah blushed and bit into a carrot. “Enough of that!”
“Yes,” Danasia smiled and turned around, resting her elbows on the counter.
“When I heard about the rape last night—”
“You thought it was Chay?”
“I know it’s stupid, but I thought it was,” Noah said. “And here’s the worst part—”
“When you heard it was Robin, you were grateful.”
“You know me too well. I just… You know how it was when we got him.”
“You and James, young swinging foster parents. This cute kid, a lot like you—”
“Even looks like me. And then I knew he’d been abused. Well…”
“And then you adopted him.”
“And turned into an old man who worries too much. I feel like I’m forty-five and not thirty. I feel like he really is my little boy.”
“Well, he is, Noah.”
“I wonder if sometimes he thinks, chill out Noah, you’re not my real dad.”
“Actually you’re more like his mother.”
“Thanks.”
“Everyone needs a mother. Lee was the only mother I had that ever counted, and I bet Chay feels the same way about you.”
“And then when I knew he was gay. Well,” Noah bit into a carrot and began chomping on it, “I just saw me all over again. The risks he takes, the stuff that was done to him before we got him. And I just get so afraid sometimes.”
“Aww,” Danasia put an arm around him.
“Don’t you dare make fun of me, Danny Burns.”
“I’m not,” Danasia kissed him on the cheek. “I’m in awe again.”
“Of me?”
“Everyday for… how long have we known each other?”
“Eight years?”
“About,” Danasia said, taking her arm from around him.
Noah wiped off his hands and took the metal bowl to the refrigerator.
“Cover that in Saran Wrap first.”
Noah nodded but said, “All we got is foil. You ready to head out?”
“Yeah.”
“How was Layla?”
“Happy about that dress.”
“Did you join the betting pool?”
Danasia raised an eyebrow.
“Did you know about it?”
“Hell, yeah I knew about it.”
“Did you vote for or against?” Danasia demanded.
“With Will Klasko in town?” Noah said, shutting the door with his hip. “Against. Definitely against.”


“Do you ever think about being more famous?” Todd Meradan began, sitting down across from Fenn. “Do you ever think about more movies, or wish you had done more films? Bigger films?”
“Bigger than this one?”
“Fenn!” Paul said.
Todd smiled ruefully, “I’m used to it.”
“You can just edit the shit out,” Fenn told him.
“I think I will,” Todd told him.
“Ask him the question again,” Paul Anderson said, sitting down beside Todd. “You always ask different questions. Those weren’t the ones I got at all.”
“Well,” Todd replied, “your life has been a considerably different one.”
Paul shrugged. This was true enough.
On the coffee table between Fenn and Todd was a canister that read: Modern Actors, a documentary away from the Silver Screen.
“I guess I’m surprised I ever did a movie at all,” Fenn said. “And no, I don’t ever wish I had become extremely famous. That would mean lots and lots of people would identify with me, and I don’t think that many people can. That would make me easily accessible, and whatever I did would appeal to either some large group or some small group that had decided it was special. I’m not for anybody,” Fenn shrugged. “Not really.”
“Some actors say they went into it to make people happy. To entertain.”
“Oh, I have no objection to happiness and entertainment,” Fenn said. “I like to make people happy, or at least be around happy people. You know. But… ”
Fenn stopped.
“You know? I think there has to be something in you that wants to be liked, that really wants big attention. There has to be something in you that really thinks the world out there is a big important world and you’ve got to make yourself really loveable for it. To succeed in that grand way.” Fenn shook his head.
“I could never be like that.”
The phone rang and Paul got up to answer it.
“You are the only guys I know,” he said, “who still have a landline.”
Todd shrugged. “A stage actor and a film maker. We’re antiquated like that.”
“Hello,” Paul said. Then, “Fenn.”
Fenn got up and crossed the living room entering the kitchen which was just receiving the noon light.
“Hello?” he said. Then, “Oh… shit. Hell… Well, alright. I’ll be there. In a minute.”
Fenn hung up the phone.
“Todd,” he said. “That was Tom. We gotta go. Our kid’s in trouble.”

Dylan Mesda looked a lot like his natural father. At the age of ten he had rosy cheeks, dark eyes, a diminutive build, thick, dark, wavy hair and a worried expression. He was sitting on the steps of the little porch to the complex that made up Saint Barbara’s school. As the old Land Rover swung into the parking lot, the little boy stood up and waved. Fenn came out of the car first, followed by Uncle Paul and then by Todd. Todd was simply Todd.
Fenn never ran. Fenn was never shaken. Fenn was the steady thing you called on. Dylan always referred to Tom as Dad. He thought of Fenn as his father, because he was. But his word for Fenn was often Fenn. It said everything.
“What’s the problem?” Fenn said simply.
The little boy stood up in blue dress pants, a short sleeved white shirt and navy tie, crossed his small arms over his chest and said, “I had to leave. I had to get out because I was going to be violent!”
Fenn picked up his son so that they were on eye level, the little boy’s feet swinging in the air a little.
“You, my little man, are about to become violent. You’re trembling.”
“I’m mad, Father. I’m just… What are you carrying?”
“It’s a barbecue lighter.”
“Why?” the little boy looked up at him.
Fenn shrugged. “Cause you never know what’ll happen, Son.”
Fenn put the boy down, and took the little hand in his larger one while they went into the school.
“It’s Tommy Peterson. He’s really giving me a rough time.”
“At the science fair?”
“Yes,” Dylan was pulling him down the hall. “He keeps saying my volcano isn’t a really volcano like his is a really volcano and dropping things into it. He keeps shoving me. And I’m tired of shoving him back. And I know you said I should just punch him, but…”
“Yeah,” Fenn sympathized, “it’s not always a good idea.”
“Especially if he’s twice my size.”
As they entered the gymnasium and Dylan was taking Fenn past the experiments, Paul pointed to a very large, sullen boy standing near what Fenn regarded to be a volcano of inferior quality and said, “Is that him?”
“Yeah,” Dylan said.
“Goddamn,” Fenn said, “you weren’t joking.”
“You shouldn’t take the Lord’s name in vain,” Dylan reminded Fenn, but it seems as if he were only saying it because he knew he should.
“Okay,” Fenn said, as they approached the volcano watched over by three zealous girls. “Shit fuck.”
Dylan clapped a hand to his face and threw his head in the air.
“Pure actor,” Todd noted to Paul.
“Thanks guys,” Dylan told the girls.
One little girl said, “We weren’t going to let Fatty Peterson mess with your stuff while you were gone.”
She clapped Dylan on the back and led the other little girls, in their plaid jumpers away.
“I like her,” Todd noted.
“Future lesbian?” Paul raised an eyebrow.
“Possibly.”
“Oh, what’s this!” Tommy Peterson said, lumbering away from his project.
“It’s not enough you had to have girls guard you? Now you need all your daddies?”
“I’m actually more of an uncle—” Paul began.
“I’m warning you, Tommy!” Dylan started.
“Well, I’m warning you—” Tommy Peterson said, and just like that, he touched the little knob at the base of Dylan’s volcano.
“Ah!” the boy shrieked and ran around it. “Help me, Fenn! Help shut it off!”
But it was too late and the volcano was erupting. It was beautiful, and Dylan had built a little Pompeii. Kids were gathering around as helpless Latins who looked like plastic cowboys and Indians were done in by steaming lava.
“You ruined it!” Dylan shouted.
Fenn touched his son on the shoulder and said, “He didn’t ruin it. He just precipitated it. Be calm and keep putting the dry ice in.”
Dylan, immediately stoical, now obeyed, face scrunched while kids gathered around clapping, for the sight was amazing.
“Go get a teacher so they can grade this,” Fenn said to Todd. “It won’t be Dylan’s fault if someone’s not here to see it.”
Now the volcano was bubbling to its end and Tommy was laughing.
“Didn’t expect that, did you?” he said.
“You son of a—” Dylan started, but then Fenn tapped him again and he was the one who spoke.
“You think that shit’s funny?” Fenn said to the kid, and all the other children around became suddenly quieter.
Tommy Peterson said, “I think it’s as funny as Dylan having a Black father.”
And that was when Fenn Houghton took out the long barbecue lighter, leaned over Tommy Peterson’s volcano, and quickly, wordlessly, set it on fire.
The boy screamed as his mountain erupted into flames and Fenn looked down at him and said, “But was it as funny as that?”

 

[CharmedFan28]

That was a great conclusion to chapter 1! Its nice to see where the older characters are now. Seems like Noah, James, Fenn and Todd made great fathers. Excellent writing and I look forward to more soon! Hope you are having a nice weekend.

 

[ChrisGibson]

Well, there are still a few characters left to come in, but most folks are here already, and of course, until Fenn and Todd and the Houghton/Meradans show up, Rossford isn't really Rossford. Now that we've been introduced to our new Rossford from the spokes up the hub, we can finally get our new story going!

 

[ChrisGibson]

TWO



ALL OF OUR FRIENDS


IN THE PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE, Father Daniel Malloy pressed his hands to the desk and said, “You can’t do that, Fenn!”
“He set my boy’s project on fire!” cried a man almost identical to Tommy. He looked like a fatter, slightly older version of the Peterson boy, but not much older, and Fenn suspected he’d brought Tommy into the world young.
“You already know what Tommy did to Dylan’s volcano,” Fenn said.
“So you thought you would just step in and retaliate?” Dan said.
“Obviously,” Fenn nodded.
“How could you?”
“You’ve known me for what? Thirty odd years? And you ask me that?”
Dan clapped his hands to his head.
“You’re gonna apologize to my boy,” Mr. Peterson said.
“I’ll set your shit on fire too,” Fenn said.
“Whaddit you say?”
Fenn looked at him strangely.
“I said…” he repeated. “I’ll set your shit on fire too.”
“Fenn,” Todd said.
“I’m a lion when it comes to my kids, you have to understand that.”
“Well, I’m a lion too,” Mr. Peterson said.
“No lion ever had an ass like yours,” Fenn declared, “and if you bothered raising that boy as much as you do feeding him, then maybe he’d have some manners.”
Mr. Peterson opened his mouth, but Fenn said, “Um um, that’s all. We’re through. And I have to get home and get Thanksgiving on. We got a wedding come Saturday too. And then Advent and Chanakuh. I’m a busy man, Daniel.”
Mr. Peterson stood up, yanking his son’s hand and pulling him toward the office door.
“You haven’t heard the last of me,” he said.
“I bet I have,” Fenn told him and turned around.
Frustrated, the boy’s father opened the door, and dragged him out of the room.
“Fat ass,” Fenn murmured.
“Fenn!” Dan snapped.
“Daniel?”
“What are you teaching your child by doing things like… what you did?”
“That I’m crazy.”
“You say it like it’s a good thing.”
“It is a good thing,” Fenn said. “Leroy wasn’t much of a father for a lot. But one thing me and Adele knew was he was crazy. And if someone messed with us, well, they had him to deal with. And that’s what Dylan knows. And that’s what everyone here knows now. Cut up, and his crazy daddy will set your shit on fire.”
“He’s got a point,” Todd said.
Dan sighed and put his spiky, slightly graying head in his hands.
“Just go, Fenn.”
“Dinner’s at three,” Fenn said, rising.
Dan muttered something.
“I love you too,” Fenn replied.
“That’s not what I said.”
“I’m pretending you did.”
As they came out into the hall, Paul, who had been waiting for them, said:
“I don’t like the children here… I’m going to tell Kirk to send our kids to Montessori.”


As they walked into the house, Fenn was rubbing his cheeks and muttering:
“Shaving. Get the house ready for Mama, Lula and Adele to come over. Get the last bits of Layla’s wedding ready. And shave.”
He turned to Todd. “Did you place your bets yet?”
“Neither one of us did,” Paul said shutting the door behind him. “And don’t you think that’s a little bit immoral?”
“You’ve become so good,” Fenn said with a stress on the word good that was not positive. “I know the old Paul would have bet in a heart beat.”
“The old Paul would have been too drunk and too high to bet at any minute. When Paul’s bad,” Paul Anderson said, “he’s really, really bad. I gotta call Kirk.”
“Oh, good. As long as you don’t go see him.”
Paul, reaching for the phone looked at Fenn.
“Well, once you all get home, you never come out, and we never see you,” Fenn explained. “Which means I never see you. And that’s not fun.”
Paul traced circles on the rotary phone and said, “I got three kids, Fenn.”
“That,” Fenn Houghton said, “was goddamn overkill.”
The door flew open while Bryant and Chad walked into the kitchen.
“I’ll save you the ritual,” Bryant put up a hand. “You say ‘Does anyone ever knock?’ and then I say ‘I’m not just anyone.’”
Chad set down a great domed silver platter, and Bryant said, “We’ll need this back, but it’ll look nice for the Thanksgiving table.”
“We thought since we couldn’t be here, our food could,” Chad explained. And then he said, “Is it true that you set some kid’s science fair project on fire?”
“It might be,” Fenn murmured, tracing a finger around the shiny dome.
“Oh, it’s totally true!” Paul said from the phone where he was talking with Kirk.
Chad gave a little grin. He looked unshaven which, Fenn noted, worked for him. There was something Tom-like in Chad, though he had straight hair and no Latin blood. Chad and Tom and Bryant all shared a likeness. Chad North was the smallest of them. He blinked through his spectacles and said, “You can open the lid.”
“Oh,” Fenn said absently. “I was just thinking how much you all look alike.”
“You think so?” Bryant said, even though they were both in dark coats and scarves.
Chad looked at Bryant fondly and said, “Well, I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Meanwhile Fenn lifted up the lid and said, “What the hell is this?”
“It’s…” Bryant said.
“It’s Lebanese,” Chad explained. “Todd and Bryant both have a litte Middle Eastern blood.”
“A very,” Bryant said, closing his fingers, “little Middle Eastern blood. I’m basically just a white guy.”
“Truer words were never spoken,” Fenn said, surveying the food critically.
Todd thundered down the stairs. He was still as gangly and large footed as ever, and in forty years he had never managed the art of walking quietly.
“Um,” he said, coming behind Fenn, “what’s that?”
“It’s your roots.”
Bryant explained: “It’s… ”
“It’s Lebanese,” Fenn interrupted.
“Wow,” Todd said. “I never tried that.
“Neither have we,” Chad said.
Fenn and Todd both looked at them.
“Montessori, you know Montessori!” Paul was saying into the phone.
“When you say you’ve never tried it,” Fenn said, “What you mean is, you never tried it until you tasted it before bringing it over here.”
“No,” Bryant said at the same time Chad said: “Yes.”
Then they switched the yes and the no, stumbled between the two a few times and finally, Chad said, “We didn’t really have time.”
“Oh, in that case,” Fenn said, “this shit will definitely be at the far end of the table.”
“Don’t be like that,” Bryant took off his hat and slapped Fenn on the shoulder.
“I guess you think I like it when you do that.”
“Oh, you do,” Bryant said in a mellow voice, “only you don’t know it.
“Well, we gotta go. We’ve got a long drive and I’d like to be in Erie before it’s too dark.”
“We’ll see you guys this weekend,” Chad said.
Bryant had become a hugger, which meant Chad North had become a hugger, which meant that Todd and Fenn, but not Paul, who was just getting off of the phone, had to be the hugged, which they bore. And then when their friends were gone, Paul put down the receiver and came to the counter.
“What was that all about?” he said.
Fenn put a spoon in the dish and lifted it to Paul’s mouth.
“Taste this,” he said.

“Okay, this has been great, but I’ll slap myself in the face if I don’t get up and go see Robin,” Meredith said, rising from the table in the sunlit restaurant.
She walked around the table, kissed Layla on the cheek and told her, “You look fantastic in that dress, Lay. I’ll see all of you guys tomorrow, right?”
“Be there or be hungry,” Layla said.
“Alright.”
She kissed Dena on the cheek and squeezed Claire’s shoulder, and then was gone.
Layla waited until Meredith had left the restaurant, and then she said, “Alright. Howabout one of you bitches tell me what’s going on?”
“Going on?”
“Dena Reardon—”
“Affren.”
“Dena, don’t play. You either, Claire.”
“I’m your sister-in-law. Would I hide anything from you?”
“Well, considering you married a brother who was hidden from me for eighteen years—”
Radha came back to the table from the bathroom and said, “Where’s Meredith?”
“She had to go.”
“And why’s Layla looking crazy?”
“I’m not looking crazy.”
“She’s being paranoid,” Claire said.
“I am—” Layla started. She stopped. She said, “You all don’t seem happy for me.”
“Now see,” Dena slapped the table. “That’s a classic case of paranoia. Of course we’re happy for you.”
“I’m not,” Radha said, leaning forward and taking a long slurp of her margarita. “I think marriage is a bourgeousie trap.”
“That’s why you and Mark are still living together?”
“That’s why we will always live together.”
“Have you ever thought of polygamy?” Claire leaned forward.
“You’re changing the subject,” Layla said.
“I know,” her sister-in-law told her. “Paul once told me about these guys back in California. Well, they weren’t polygamous… cause that means many wives. But they were a foursome. They all lived together, slept with each other, sometimes had four way and three way sex, shared their income.”
“I don’t think I like that shit,” Layla realized.
“I think it’s a little hot,” Dena admitted. “The only thing is I’ve only been with two men in my life, and I don’t really want to be with any others.”
“Two?” Claire said. And then she remembered: “Brendan. That’s so weird for me.”
“That’s because he’s been out and with Kenny as long as you’ve known him.”
“Kenny is fine,” Radha said flatly. “I don’t know him, but I always think it would have been neat to have gotten a hold of him before he found out about himself.”
“I used to have a crush on Kenny Mc.Grath,” Dena admitted. “I super, super had a thing for him even when I was dating Bren. And then to find out—”
“That Bren had a thing for him too,” Layla shook her head.
Dena burst out laughing. “I did not handle it well at all.”
“This bitch,” Layla began, “went to Martin’s back when Kenny was still working there. Got in the checkout line, put a whole bunch of food down on the conveyer belt and then when he asked her ‘is that all?’ she said ‘one more thing’ made a fist and knocked him out.”
“Did you really hurt him?” Claire said. “Oh, I don’t remember this.”
“Well, Layla just said it,” Dena told her. “I knocked him out.”
Radha Hatangady’s eyes had been open with amazement and now she said, “I didn’t know you had it in you. I should have known,” she realized. “But I didn’t.”
“I was kind of pissed off,” Dena said, chuckling.
“She got arrested,” Layla remembered.
“Did you really?”
“Yes, Radha. The cop was actually kind of hot. I almost wish I’d slept with him.”

 

[CharmedFan28]

A great start to chapter 2! It was good to see even more of the older characters. I wonder how Layla's wedding will go? I guess I will have to wait and see. Excellent writing and I look forward to reading whatever happens next!

 

[ChrisGibson]

What did you like the best? Do you have a favorite new character?

 

[CharmedFan28]

I liked best the scene where Fenn stood up to the other parent in the headmaster's office. Sheridan is still my favourite new character.

 

[ChrisGibson]

Sheridan is my favorite too, though I am partial to Meredith. Fenn is my favorite parent. I'd like to think I would be like him, and I know my parents were. Of course, there' also this, Fenn got Dylan when he was forty, so he's also older than all of the other parents.

 

[ChrisGibson]

TWO



ALL OF OUR FRIENDS CONTINUED

These days Layla was dividing her living space between the home where her grandmother and great-grandmother stayed with Danasia, and Adele’s house, which was Simon’s house now too. It was the home she had grown up in, sure enough. And she had gone to Loretto so it was always near her. But after the brief stint in Chicago and then Tennessee, this seemed more like the home of her mother’s new marriage than of her childhood, and she was the hanger on, something from the old marriage. The house on Taylor Street was one with three generations of Houghton women all in need of a fair amount of personal space and it suited her better, so she stayed there more often. Lee and Tom were always in and out as well, and Julian and Claire lived right down the street, Dena and Milo around the corner, so this is where Dena dropped her off.
“You are my oldest friend,” Dena said.
“This means you’re about to start a speech.”
“You wanted to know if we were hiding something from you. Well, just our opinions.”
“Alright, then.”
“I think Aidan was a good boyfriend for a long time.”
“But now Aidan’s gone.”
“That’s right. And now Will’s back in town.”
“What?”
“Will’s back in town for Thanksgiving and—”
“And out again.”
“Yes,” Dena said. “But… you loved him. He was your love.”
“And?”
“I just don’t know that Kevin is.”
Layla felt that it was time for her to “go off”. She also felt that she would just be playing a part if she did “go off.”
“Claire got Julian and I got Milo and Brendan got Kenny, and… you can see it, we’re the loves of each others’ lives. And I want you to have the love of your life too.”
“Dena, you think just because I didn’t meet Kevin in high school, he can’t be the love of my life?”
“I don’t know,” Dena said. “All I know is that you should at least see Will before you decide to marry Kevin.”
“I’ve already decided, Dena,” Layla said. “There’s a wedding dress, a booked up church and reception hall, and twenty thousand dollars worth of chicken fingers that says I have decided.”

“Todd!” Nell snapped, and slapped him on the knuckles.
“Ouch. I was just adding pepper.”
“Don’t add anything,” she said.
Tara Veems walked into the room with a nut colored little girl, placed her hand in Todd’s and said, “Watch her. I have to go pick up a pie. And get out of the kitchen. Don’t you see you’re just getting on everyone’s nerves?”
“Thank you,” Nell said at the same time Anne Houghton did.
“No problem, ladies,” Tara said. “If I can’t cook, at least I can defend the rights of women who do.
“I’ll be back soon, baby,” she said to the little girl. “Mind your father.”
“She always minds me,” Todd said.
Tara ignored him, shutting the door.
“Well, you heard the mother of your child,” Lula said.
Todd went to the refrigerator to get a juice cup for the girl and said, “But it’s my kitchen.”
“Except on holidays,” Anne told him. “Then it’s my kitchen, since you can’t cook. And by the way, what the damn hell—”
Todd covered the girl’s ears and said, “Children, Anne.”
“Excuse me. What the D-A-M-N hell is that C-R-A-P in the fridge? In the silver thing.”
“Oh, it’s Lebanese,” Todd said.
“You made it?” Nell sounded doubtful as she whisked cream.
“No, Bryant and Chad did.”
“Oh,” Nell said.
“Paul tried it. He says its good. I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.”
“With Scottish on one side and Lebanese on the other it’s a miracle I ever learned to cook at all,” Nell reflected.
“You wanna go back with the other kids, Maia?” Todd asked her.
The little girl shrugged.
“I’m going to make that a yes.”
“Well, when you all go back,” said Lula, who had remained silent, concentrating on her macaroni, “Get Adele’s fat ass and tell her to finish off these cheesecakes.”
“What about Layla?”
“Too many cooks,” Lula said, and then when Todd had left, she added, “Beside, she’s got the wedding, and I already bet a hundred dollars that it wouldn’t go through.”

Maia made a beeline for Dylan who was sitting in front of Elias, Bennett and Matthew, one leg crossed over the other, elegantly smoking an ink pen.
“Dylan, what have I told you about that?” Tom said, sharply. “Smoking is serious and it’s bad for your health.”
“That’s right,” Lee said beside him, exhaling. “Knock that shit off. Ink pens’ll kill you. Danny!”
Danasia broke off her conversation with Noah.
“Your father called. I just remembered. He wants you to call him back.”
“You think I should?”
“You have all the right in the world not to,” Lee Philips acknowledged. “But it would kind of make you a bitch if you didn’t.”
Fenn, coming from behind him, slapped him on the back of the head.
“Quit cussin’ in front of my kids—”
“Thank you, Fenn,” Tom started.
Fenn sat down on the other side of Tom.
“You know,” Tom said. “If I had known you were going to set that Peterson boy’s volcano on fire—”
“You would never have sent me down to the school?”
“No,” Tom said with a little smile. “I would have come down so I could see it.”

Milo poured another drink into Julian’s cup and said, “So your vote is for or against?”
“Firstly,” Julian Lawden said, “I will not vote against my sister.”
“We’re not voting against her,” Brendan clarified. “We’re for her. We’re always for her. We’re just saying,” he held up one slightly unsteady finger, “are you for or against her actually going through with the marriage?”
“Do you think it’s really going to happen?” Milo rephrased, ashing his cigarette.
“I don’t see why it shouldn’t.”
“You’re a regular politician you know that?” Milo told him. “We ought to just put you on the ticket. You can be the next Black president.”
“Or the first one with two Black parents?” Brendan suggested.
“Ahhhh,” both young men said to each other
“What’s everyone ahhing about?” Will Klasko said, entering the den of his parent’s house.
“Absolutely nothing.” Julian said while Milo announced,
“Julian’s running for president.”
Will sat down and shook his head. Over the years he had let his hair grow, and it was wilder than Milo’s now. He took off his glasses, folded them, and then stuffed them in the breast pocket of his shirt.
“I feel like I’m missing something every time I leave the room.”
“Is Aiden Michaelson still throwing the bachelor party?”
“Yeah,” Brendan said. “And isn’t that kind of weird?”
“Is it weirder than you doing my bachelor party?” Milo said.
“Well, that’s different now,” said Brendan. “We’re friends.”
“We’re friends now,” Milo modified.
“I hardly know this guy,” Brendan said. “How could Layla just go and marry some guy we don’t even know.”
“I know!” Will gasped. “It’s almost like she has the right to be with whoever she wants.”
“Are you being sarcastic?” Brendan said. “You’re being sarcastic.”
“Bren, you’re a little drunk, aren’t you?”
Brendan smiled stupidly and tipped his hand.
“Maybe a tad,” he whispered.
“It’s all that lawyering,” Julian said.
“Actually its lawstudenting,” Brendan corrected.
“I always thought you’d go to Notre Dame. Not Valpo.”
“I think a laywer’s a lawyer,” Brendan said. “Besides, if you apply at ND, you don’t know if or when you’ll make it in. I needed to make it in. I want a degree, not a god trip. And Valpo’s plenty hard anyway. I think maybe I was a little stupid about this.”
“You’re not serious about that,” Milo told him.
“Yes, I am my friend. But… the fact that I just said, ‘My friend,’ means I’m getting maudlin, so how about I stop talking about this and we talk about something else?”
“Like the stripper,” Julian and Milo said together, and looked at each other.
“Look,” Julian put his hand up, “I love Claire more than most men love their wives, but every once in a while—”
“You wanna see some new titties,” Milo said.
Julian thought this over, and then he said, “Yeah.”
“I feel you.”
“Kenny used to be a stripper,” Brendan said.
“What?” Will said.
“Yeah. For a very brief time Kenny was a stripper.”
“Well, I’m all about Kenny,” Milo said. “You know that. But… ”
“We don’t want him shaking his ass at Kevin’s bachelor party.
“And I don’t know Kevin very well,” Julian said. “But I bet he doesn’t swing that way either.”
Brendan grew reflective and buried half of his face in the side of his hand.
“I miss Kenny shaking his ass. Why’d he have to go? Why’d that son of a bitch get up and leave me!”
“Bren, he’s in Chicago.”
“I know!” Brendan said, “But I’m kind of drunk and kind of feeling sorry for myself cause I think I chose the wrong career, and my boyfriend is doing some fucking awful cubicle job and I only see him on the weekend, and… I haven’t gotten laid for a month!”
They all looked at Brendan in amazement and he said:
“Oh, what? I’m the only one who’s gone without it for a month?”
“No,” Will said slowly. “But my brother just walked into the room.”
“Oh, shit,” Brendan said, turning around to see Sheridan.
“Never fear,” the boy put up his hand. “I do not have virgin ears.”
“Or virgin anything else, I’ll bet,” Will said darkly.
“We can’t all be you, Big Brother. Do you have a twenty?”
“What for?”
“Couldn’t you just say yes?”
“Couldn’t you just tell me?”
“I wanna go buy some blow.”
“Oh, in that case, it’s in my wallet, and my wallet’s under my carcoat on the bed.”
“Thanks. Julian? Is it too late to place bets?”
“Etu, brother?”
“Hey, I’m on your side,” Sheridan told Will. “I’m betting Layla’s too good for that loser.”
“I’m so tired to talking about Layla,” Will said.
“Are you?” his brother grinned at him. “Are you really?”
Will narrowed his eyes at Sheridan and Julian said, “Bets are on until one o clock on Saturday.”
“Good show,” Sheridan said. Then turning around and walking out of the den he told Will, “The twenty’s for a movie.”

 

[CharmedFan28]

Interesting portion! A lot going on in the lead up to Layla's wedding. I wonder if she will go through with it. I guess ill have to wait and see. Great writing and I look forward to more soon!

 

[ChrisGibson]

What was interesting? Do you think she will do it?

 

[CharmedFan28]

Just interesting seeing these characters interact again all these years after past stories. I don't think she will get married but hey I could be wrong lol.

 

[ChrisGibson]

CONTINUED


“Are you really failing music theory?” Sean said. “I mean, it’s really not as hard as it sounds. All you had to do is show up. And we’re musicians for God’s sake.”
“Oh, my God,” Shelley sank lower in her seat in the van, “this is such a nightmare.”
“What’s a nightmare?” Sean said, beside her. “That your family cares about you? Or that after being in a family of musicians—”
“Jesus Christ—”
“Watch it, young lady,” said the old man beside Bryant who drove on in silence through the night.
“Excuse me Uncle Frank. Jiminy Cricket!”
“Silly, but better,” the old priest said.
“All I’m saying,” Shelley was saying, “is we’re not the effing Von Trappes.”
“We’re better than that,” Frank said. “We’re the Slaughters.”
“I’m so glad my last name is Babcock,” Sean reflected.
“I’m glad my name doesn’t have the word cock in it,” Shelley Latham said.
Chad North, on the far side of the car, snorted a laugh.
“And this is just the beginning. We’re not even in Erie yet,” Shelley told him.
Bryant turned to his uncle and said, as headlights zoomed by, “I get less and less excited to go back there every minute.”
“You can’t just not go back,” Sean told him.
“Actually you could,” Shelley said. “Aunt Anne never comes. She’s onto something.”
“And I’m not with my family,” Chad told him.
“Our family is your family,” Shelley said.
“No it isn’t,” Chad differed.
“He’s got a point,” Bryant reflected. “Our family is hardly even our family.”
“What I meant,” Shelley said, “is that us… we in this car, are your family.”
Chad gave her a small smile.
“Yes,” Sean, who sat between them, agreed. “Such as we are.”

“I thought Meredith and Mathan would be here,” Chay said.
“Nope,” Sheridan shook his head, putting the popcorn between them. “Are you disappointed?”
“You know I’m not,” Chay dug into the tub. “Do you remember when the dollar show used to have those bags instead of the buckets?”
“And we would save the bags,” Sheridan continued,
“cause popcorn cost so much. Take em home and keep them in your Dads’ fridge, and then come back to the movies—”
Chay was chuckling, “With pop stuffed in our coats, and Milk Duds. And you’d wait till the theatre was busy, and then bring out the old bags and ask for free refills.”
“Yeah,” Sheridan said, leaning back, wide legged and tossing popcorn in his mouth. “We can’t have been the only ones who did that.”
“I never met anyone else who did,” Chay said in the dark while the previews played overhead. “Whenever I tell that story, people look at me like I’m crazy.”
“So I guess it’s you who singlehandedly tipped the dollar show onto our scheme. It’s damn impossible to sneak in a tub of popcorn.”
“Oh, heck, the movie’s starting.”
“What is it Chay?”
“I can’t remember. Who cares, though? It’s a dollar, right?”
As the large scene opened up on a grey cityscape that was either New York or Chicago, Chay yawned and said, “I hope I can stay awake.”
“Yeah,” Sheridan murmured, trying to be mindful of the few people in the theatre. “I usually just watch stuff on DVD and then turn it off when I get tired and wait to see the rest tomorrow. It’s hard for me to do movies.”
Chay snorted.
“What?” Sheridan said.
“Why the hell are we here then?”
Sheridan cuffed him in the head.
“It’s our quality time. You’re supposed to be my best friend, and we haven’t hung out, you know, just the two of us, in a long time.”
Chay chuckled and leaned in close to Sheridan for a second, and then pulled away.
“What?” Sheridan said.
“I didn’t mean to crowd.”
“You don’t crowd me,” Sheridan said. He shoved his shoulder closer to Chay. “I’m not some homophobe. This is just like when we were kids.”


The next morning Layla closed her eyes tighter when she heard the knock at the front door and waited for someone else to get it. A few moments later the rapid approach of socked feet told her someone was about to knock at her own and then she grimaced when she heard Danasia tapping.
“Layla! Get up! Are you decent? Quit using that dildo put a housecoat on and come out.”
Layla opened the door to her cousin and said, “Bitch?”
“It’s for you.”
When Layla entered her grandmother’s kitchen, she said, “Shit.”
“It’s good to see you too, Layla.”
“Will.”
He gave her a small bow, and his dark hair fell in his face.
“Happy Thanksgiving.”
“You came to wish me a happy Thanksgiving?” Layla Lawden said.
She turned to go to the counter and pour herself a cup of coffee. The kitchen was dark because it faced northwest.
“Yes, and other things.”
“Other things?”
“We haven’t talked in a long time.”
“Years in fact,” Layla said, pouring creamer into her cup.
“Surely not years.”
“Surely,” she said, mocking Will, “years.”
She frowned at the taste of the coffee and spooned in more sugar.
“Well, I don’t mean to be mean, William, but I still don’t get why you’re here.”
“Sheridan told me I should come by.”
“Sheridan?”
“And Bren.”
Layla looked at him and grimaced, and then she tried the coffee.
“Now, that’s better. Let’s sit down,” she said to Will.
He nodded and she sat down across from him.
“I just got up, Will. It’s Thanksgiving. I’m getting married in three days, and I haven’t seen you in about two years. So when you show up, I have to know what the hell is going on.”
Will looked at her.
“They said I should see you,” he began. Then he added. “And I agree. I mean, I should see you. I wanted to see you.”
He was quiet a moment, and then he added. “Before you get married. We needed to see each other.”
Layla nodded.
“Ghost of boyfriend’s past? Is Aidan coming too?”
“Look, Layla…”
“Yes.”
“I wanted to see you. A lot. I wanted to get a good look at you. As an unmarried woman.”
Layla threw back her head and laughed.
“Damn, you know what, Will? You are just as strange as you always were.”
When Will said nothing, Layla said, “Well, how do I look? Was the looking worth it?”
“It actually was,” Will said. “I…” he stood up.
“Where are you going?” Layla said.
“I just thought I’d better get going.”
“Well, you better get staying,” she said. “Because now you’re here.”
She yawned and pointed to the coffee pot. “Get yourself a cup of coffee and sit down with me.”
As Will got up she added, “I wish I had a cigarette.”
“Since when do you smoke?”
“Since never. But on a morning like this with a cup of coffee, I think, it sure does look fun.”
Will shook his head.
“I gotta disagree.”
“You don’t have to, but it’s natural that you would.”
“That I would not smoke?”
“No, that you would not agree with me.”
Will chuckled and stirred his coffee.
“Layla, do you remember why we didn’t work out?”
“Because you said you’d pick your school over me, and put us on the back burner.”
“Ouch. I’m sure I didn’t say it quite like that.”
“I’m sure you did. And then I’m sure I left you. Say,” Layla said, “you’ve already told me that Sheridan and Bren are all up in my business—”
“Actually, what I said was—”
“So what I want to know,” Layla continued, “is are they all talking behind my back? They all think I shouldn’t be with Kevin? They’d all think it would have been okay if I’d ended up with Aidan? But really, they want me to be with you? Don’t they?”
“Oh, Lay, I think that’s paranoid. Who is THEY?”
Layla sat back and listed off of her fingertips, “Dena, Milo, Brendan—obviously—, Claire. My brother. All those nosey bitches.”
“Look, Layla,” Will said. “I don’t know what… all of those nosey bitches had to say. All I know is that I really, really wanted to see you. And I wouldn’t have unless Brendan told me I had to see you one last time.”
Layla was about to say something sarcastic. But suddenly she realized she didn’t want to. She wasn’t feeling sarcastic. She wanted to say something to him about his hair, about his eyes, about how she’d forgotten certain parts of him, and other parts looked better than ever before. She wanted to wrestle with the hurt that came up at the same time the softness did. And then the phone rang.
“You’d better get that,” Will said.
Layla got up and answered.
“Hello? Yes. Yes.” She looked over at Will.
“I can come in an hour. You’re coming to dinner, right? Alright… Alright. See you then. I love you too. Bye now.”
Layla let the phone drop into its cradle and said, “That was the mistake our friends don’t want me to make. That was Kevin.”

 

[CharmedFan28]

A great continuation! It was interesting to see Layla and Will have some time together, I think there is still a spark between them. I still don't think she is going to get married but I guess I will have to wait and see. Great writing and I look forward to the next section!

 

[ChrisGibson]

Well, yes, it was good to finally have Will and Layla be together instead of being talked about by other people. On other fronts, there was more of Sheridan tonight, and think that's always a good thing. Thanks for reading, glad you enjoyed, and a great rest of your day!

 

[ChrisGibson]

CHAPTER TWO

ALL OF OUR FRIENDS
CONTINUED

When Sheridan and Chay reached the hospital room, Mathan and Meredith were standing outside. Chay stuck his head in. Mr. And Mrs. Netteson were sitting on either side of Robin who was turned away from the door, her face hidden in the pillow.
“She’s been like that since we got here,” Mathan said in a low voice. “She won’t see anyone.”
“We should tell her Chay’s here,” Meredith suggested.
“I don’t understand,” said Chay.
“I think she’ll make an exception for you. She always does.”
“I wish we had been there. I wish she hadn’t gone out,” Chay began.
Meredith went into the room and touched Mrs. Netteson’s shoulder. She said a few words to her, nodded, and came back out.
“Chay, she agrees with me.”
Chay looked at Sheridan and he said, touching him lightly on the cheek, “Nothing’s gonna happen to you. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. Go on in there.”
Chay nodded and went in while Mathan said, “What would happen to him in there? And how would you stop it?”
Sheridan just looked after Chay and Mr. Netteson moved to let Chay sit down.
“Robin?”
The girl turned around. She wasn’t stellar. She wasn’t ugly. She looked, when not bruised, like any other girl. Now, having been beaten she looked like several other girls.
“Can you all go away?” she said to her parents.
“Well, honey, we don’t want to leave you,” her mother said. But Mr. Netteson said, “Sure. We’ll get you signed out so you can go home.”
“I don’t want to go home today. I don’t think I can look at all of them.”
“All of them won’t be there,” her mother said. “This will be a very small Thanksgiving.”
“Good,” Robin put on a smile. “I have very small thanks.”
Her parents left the room and Robin said to Chay, “You know what I think about God?”
He said, “Un unh.”
“He’s a real motherfucker.”
It would have been funny, but Robin Netteson didn’t laughter. It was a simple observation.
“When you were a kid, before Noah and James got you, what did they do to you? Those other people? Do you remember your parents?”
“I don’t remember my father,” Chay said. “Not my first father. I do remember my mom. She sold me to a junkie.”
“I had heard that,” Robin said slowly. “I never asked. I never really believed it.”
“Well…” Chay said, “it’s true. I have to be honest. The guy never did anything to me. Well, I mean, not what he wanted. I kicked him in his nuts. He beat the hell out of me. I tried to call the police. He tied me to a chair before I could call them. I was like that for a long time. Shit on myself and everything. It’s like a dream. It’s like something that happened to someone else. That’s why when the police got to me they made sure I never saw my mother again.”
“Did you miss that?” Robin said softly. “Did you miss her?”
“Hell no!” Chay said loudly, and then covered his mouth and grinned. Robin grinned as well. Her first grin.
“See, that’s what I mean. God is a motherfucker.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Chay said. “I think people are the motherfuckers. If not for God I wouldn’t be here right now. That’s what I think. No offense.”
“Then why didn’t he help me?” Robin said. “And it’s no good saying he let me live. That’s… that’s some low level bullshit. I… Chay, can I ask you a question?”
“About God?”
“No,” Robin said. “I’m through with his ass. About Sheridan?”
Chay felt something in him tighten, but he said, “Ahhh…. Alright?”
“Do you love him?”
“I did,” Chay said. “I mean, I do. Of course. But… not like I did. I can’t want someone I can’t have.”
“See,” Robin said. “I used to think he was your boyfriend. Especially when you told us you were gay. Do you think that’s why your parents adopted you? They saw it in you?”
“They saw a lot in me. They saw themselves. Yeah. That’s probably it. I told Noah so much stuff he must have known. He must have seen himself in me.”
“You all look alike. That makes sense. But… I used to think Sheridan was too. I used to think he was your guy. He acts like it.”
“Yes,” Chay said slowly. “He does that.”
“How can you stand it?” Robin said, suddenly. “He touches you sometimes. Not… inappropriate. But just… he gets too close. Everybody says it. And then he goes off and fucks all these random girls. How can you take that?” she was speaking in a low voice, each sentence one rapid string after the other.
“Sometimes I can’t,” Chay said.
Robin nodded.
“I just wanted to know. There’s so much I want to know these days, Chay. You see?”
“I see,” Chay said.
“I want to talk to him.”
“Sheridan?”
“Yeah.”
“About me?”
“No,” Robin said, a small, tired smile on her face. “Me.”
Chay got up. He kissed her and she said, “I love you Chay.”
“I love you too,” he told her, and left the room. Her parents were about to come back in, but Chay said, “She has to say something to Sheridan.”
Sheridan blinked. He took off his ballcap and put his hands through his light colored hair, and then he nodded.

Beside the bed he looked up and said, “What’s going on?”
“Close the curtain,” she said. “We have to be really quiet for this.”
Sheridan frowned, but he nodded, stood up and, with an apologetic shrug, he closed the curtains hiding the two of them.
“I… Those guys did some horrible stuff to me.”
“Yes they did,” Sheridan said by way of validation.
“I was a virgin, Sheridan,” she said, urgently.
“I know. And one day, you don’t understand this, but one day you’ll meet a nice guy and you’ll have the experience you want and—”
“That’s bullshit,” she said. “I don’t want to meet the right guy or a nice guy. I was out there that night because I wanted a bad guy and an interesting guy. I wanted something fun. I didn’t expect what happened to happen, but I wanted something to happen. You know? I was feeling…. Real. For the first time. I was feeling dangerous. I was actually… a little horny before it happened. I think if someone had ASKED I would have wanted… something to happen.”
Sheridan kept nodding. He didn’t know where she was going with this, and finally he told her so.
“You…” Robin said, at last, “you’ve been with a lot of girls. Haven’t you?”
“I guess…”
“You know,” Robin said with some force.
“Okay,” Sheridan nodded. “Then yeah. What’s up, Robin?”
Her hooked finger beckoned to him. He knelt closer. She whispered:
“When I get back home… when I’m healed up, Sheridan…”
“Um hum?”
“I want you to fuck me.”

When Layla walked into the house, the first thing she said was: “This has been the strangest morning. You won’t believe what happened to me.”
“Will came and visited you?” Milo guessed, taking off her coat.
She stared daggers at him and Dena said, “Don’t ask me how he knew that. It’s true?”
“It’s true,” Layla said.
“You need a cigarette, girl.”
“Damn shame neither one of you smokes,” Milo said, reaching for his.
“I need a drink. And I need Saturday to come so this whole thing can be…”
“Over?” Milo said.
“That’s not what I was going to say.”
“You know,” Dena Affren began, “it sort of seemed like it’s exactly what you were about to say.”
“And, of course,” Milo chimed in, moving Layla to her chair, “the marriage won’t be over on Saturday. It’ll just be starting.”
“I don’t want the marriage to be over,” Layla said. “I want the wedding to be over. I want all this… How did you know Will was coming?”
“We were all together last night. Brendan suggested it…. I may have agreed to the suggestion.”
“Milo!”
“Well, what’s the harm, right? If you’re in love with this Kevin.”
But this time it was Dena who hit Milo with a pillow.
“Milo!”
“I am in love with this Kevin,” Layla insisted.
“Then how come he doesn’t hang around with us? How come we don’t see him?”
“Uh, excuse me,” Layla reminded him. “But he’s not marrying you.”
“Milo just feels that he should be an organic part of the whole,” Dena explained.
“Does Milo feel that way, or do you feel that way?”
“Milo, honey, go check on the food for dinner.”
“All you made was cheesecake and potato salad, and you finished that yesterday.”
“Milo.”
Milo got up, crushing his cigarette and said, “Why don’t I go check that food.”
“Thank you, baby,” Dena said.
She waited until Milo had circled their makeshift coffee table and old sofa and gone down the hall to the kitchen before saying:
“But how did it feel? To be with Will again?”
Layla looked at Dena strangely.
“Look,” Dena said, “Bren’s a guy. True. But Bren is a guy who sleeps with guys and… he knows a thing or two about what it’s like to want a man. He and Kenny broke up twice. But… you know, they realized they really want each other, and I think Bren knew what he was doing when he sent Will to you. Just to see the guy you want…”
“I don’t want Will.”
“Well, hell, to see the one you used to love.”
Layla shook her head.
“Just tell me; how was it?” Dena said, grabbing her hand. “Just tell me what it was like to see him again.”
“It was… nice.”
“See!”
“And… I do think I would have wondered…. If I had never seen him again.”
“Exactly.”
“And… when I dropped the coffee creamer he bent over.”
“Yes?”
“And I noticed that over the last few years, Will’s gotten a pretty nice ass.”

 

[CharmedFan28]

That was an excellent section! It was interesting to hear more of the history of the newer characters. I was surprised that Robin wanted Sheridan to fuck her. It will be interesting to read what happens between those two. Great writing as usual and I look forward to more! Hope you are having a nice week!

 

[ChrisGibson]

I had to go to bed early, so missed your comments. Thanks for reading, and what happens next certainly is going to be... interesting is the right word. I hope you're having a great week as well.

 

[ChrisGibson]

WEEKEND PORTION PART ONE

When Brendan had graduated a year after Kenny, he came back to Rossford. Kenny had already set him up for the disappointing realities of life after college, and told him his best bet was graduate school. The truth was that Brendan didn’t particularly want to go to any school of any sort. He didn’t want anything. Except maybe to rest. With the characteristic powers of objective observation belonging to someone who spent the bulk of his life not having children, Fenn Houghton and Todd Meradan saw what Brendan’s parents had not.
“He needs to get away from them,” Todd said, simply.
When they had become rich, which the two had to admit they were, it had never occurred to them to move out of the house on Versailles Street. They hadn’t even added anything on. Now their thoughts turned to Layla and Dena and all of their “little friends” as Fenn called them, who were coming out of college, and Todd said, “Dylan’s got the extra room. We could add another one on, though. You know?”
Fenn thought about this and then said, “But if I were young and swinging, I wouldn’t want a room. I’d want a place.”
“I hadn’t thought about that.”
“When you got out of college my place was your place,” Fenn reminded him.
“And then the army. Then I came back here. What about the basement?”
Fenn listened.
“That basement, which has held dead bodies, and Tom’s sperm. And all sorts of things. That huge basement. Seal it off and turn it into a little apartment. Put a new lock on it. Make it sturdy. We’re in business.”
Fenn kissed Todd on the cheek.
“That’s why I love you.”
They didn’t talk about it to anyone, though everyone who came by knew something was happening to the house. Contractors came in and out, and they did things more or less on time. Brendan had been at Martin’s one day, ringing up groceries and reflecting that he never thought he’d be a cashier again when Layla showed up.
“Hey, Lay. What can I get you?”
“A new boyfriend. Me and Aidan might be quits.”
“Shit.” Then Brendan covered his mouth. “I mean, I’m sorry.”
He gave her a small smile. “We have boyfriends in the discount aisle. However you need to shake them up first and check the expiration date.”
Layla laughed, then she said, “Actually, Mr. Miller, the reason I’m here is because my uncle and Todd have summoned you.”
“Fenn and Todd?” Brendan said. That sounded thrilling. It could only be good news. But what?
Layla didn’t say. As she left she didn’t even say ‘Happy Birthday’.

But that night, when Brendan arrived at the house after work, wondering what could possibly be in store for him, the party was there. No one shouted surprise because Fenn said that was annoying. Dena was there. Milo was there. Layla, of course, was there. Will came from out of town, and though he said he wouldn’t be able to make it, and they had recently broken up, Kenny was there. It was happy and quiet and Fenn and Todd chose to “stay out of the way” for the most part.
But as the night wound down, Fenn rolled open the doors of the little library, came out and said, “Brendan, I would like to show you something.”
They went out of the house through the kitchen, and it was then that Brendan noticed what he thought he had seen before, that the place where the door to the basement used to be was gone. They walked around the front of the house. Slowly a car passed, and from Dorr Road he could hear late night traffic. They reached the old basement door, redone, and Fenn handed Brendan a key.
“What’s this?”
“Open it.”
“A present?” Brendan said. “Is there a present in there?”
“You might say that,” Fenn told him.
Brendan opened it. He turned on the light. He went down the little flight of steps.
“I like what you’ve done with it. And the windows! I bet this place can get some great light. Say… But… Fenn, maybe I’m stupid, but I don’t see the present.”
“Then you really are stupid,” Fenn said.
“What?” Bren began. And then, “No… I mean…”
“I know what it’s like to have to live with your parents and watch them watch you, waiting for something to happen. You need your own space to figure things out.”
Brendan stood there open mouthed.
Finally he said, “I can’t accept it.”
“You know you can. And you know in the end you will. After we’ve gone through all this trouble, don’t make us go through the added trouble of begging you to keep something that’s yours.”
“But… I mean… Have you considered that…? I might not figure shit out tomorrow. Or… Anytime I mean. And rent.”
“Stop,” Fenn said. “Shut up. You know me. After twenty years you know me, and you are one of the few people who know Todd and I will never worry about rent or mortgages or money again. You know that. A gift is a gift.”
Finally, Brendan shut up, and he hung his head in amazement.
“So,” Fenn said. “Just say the one thing you should say.”
“Thank you,” Brendan said.
And Fenn nodded. Then he went upstairs.

And so that was how Brendan came to live on Versailles Street, or underneath it. He stammered to Fenn about various complications, about what his parents would say. Fenn told him to lie, to tell them, if he wanted, that he was paying rent. To tell them he got a nice new job clerking. Fenn also suggested that he quit being a cashier. Brendan walked around in a daze, cognizant of the fact that he was one of the blessed few that actually was allowed to live as he wished. What he wanted was to find out what he should be doing. He spent a lot of time upstairs and once he’d asked why there was no longer a basement door in the kitchen.
“Firstly, cause you’d eat up all my shit, and secondly, because if you are fucking someone then we all get privacy.”
This made Brendan turn red. Adults, and he still didn’t feel totally part of the adult world, did not say things like that.
“I’m broken up with Kenny now,” was all he told Fenn.
“Well,” Fenn shrugged. “It ain’t over till it’s over. And it’s never over till you’re dead. And there are other men besides Kenneth McGrath.”

There were indeed other men beside Kenny McGrath, but Brendan was not good at meeting them. He went to an online dating site and it was only looking back years later, that he realized not only were there other men, many of them were actually probably better than Kenny. But Kenny was what he loved and what he knew, so his attempts at meeting others were half assed at best. Before this he had pushed his mind into his work. Now he had no work, so he thought of Kenny a lot. He also realized he had nothing in the way of skills. Todd made films, Fenn acted, and since he had gone up to Chicago with Paul Anderson for a time, years ago, he occasionally acted in films. Brendan didn’t have an artistic bone in his body. He wasn’t musical like Milo. In the end he decided he should be like Will. Will had gotten up and gone to school, realized halfway through his masters he hated his program, gotten out and was getting another undergraduate degree. Will didn’t get tired of learning, and he more or less knew what he wanted to do. Brendan had been a good student, but not a stellar one.
“I am not a man of deep, deep passions,” he said simply. “I’ll have to get an MBA or something.”
“You really want to work in a company?” Will demanded. “You really want to do business?”
“Not really,” Brendan had admitted.
But the truth, and there it was, is he didn’t have much of a passion for anything that had letters after it.
“You don’t have to be a philosopher or anything like that,” Will said. And this was the period when he had begun growing his hair out and looked a bit like a philosopher himself. “Say, why don’t you…. Go to law school?”

 

[ChrisGibson]

CONCLUSION OF CHAPTER TWO...

AND... WEEKEND PORTION PART TWO


BRENDAN WAS THINKING ABOUT THIS, reflecting on the past this Thanksgiving morning, after he had showered and turned on the furnace. He wanted it not to be cold. He wanted to think that it was just a little bit of snow and winter wasn’t coming but he couldn’t believe that anymore. He came out of the shower, towel around his waist, splashing on aftershave, proud of the little soul patch he’d grown. These days it was the only thing making him feel remotely sexy. He wondered if maybe they should have broken up again. Not because things were bad, but simply because things weren’t at all. Because he felt single all this time.
“What if the only reason I’m with him…?” Brendan wondered, “is because I don’t know how to be with anyone else?”

LIFE HAD BEEN HAPPY when he moved into the basement apartment on Versailles Street, but it was hard as well because there was none of the worry over what his family felt, or his job at Martin’s to distract him. When Fenn saw this, he put Brendan to work in the theatre, and that night Kenny came to the show.
“Kenneth?”
“You’re the only one who ever called me Kenneth.”
Brendan was carrying a stack of gowns and he laid them down.
“How are you?”
“Better now. Better now that I’m looking at you.”
“Right?” Brendan said.
Kenneth stood looking at Brendan looking at him, and then he said, “You wanna go out? Get some food or something?”
“Yeah,” Brendan said. Then he remembered. “Oh! I need to put these robes back. Hold on.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Kenny sat down, stretching his legs. “I’ll be right here.”
In the back room Brendan hustled to hang up costumes, and Tara Veems sidled up beside him.
“Brendan?”
“Uh…. Yeah?”
“I notice you’re in a hurry.”
“Uh, not really…. Just…”
“Kenneth McGrath is out there.”
“He is? I mean… He is.”
“Brendan,” Tara said gently.
“Yeah?”
“Give me the costumes.”
“Huh?”
“Give me the costumes,” Tara repeated slowly, with a smile. “And go.”

“So, yeah…” Kenny said, running his finger around the rim of his glass.
“That’s what’s going on in Indianapolis. Was going on.”
“Was?”
“I don’t know that I’ll stay much longer. I don’t know I’ll be able to.”
“I was just thinking how I wished I’d gone to Indy with you. When you said I should.”
“Well,” Kenny frowned. “I wish you had too. But on the other hand, you did the right thing. For you. I mean, you followed me to college. You stayed with me four years.”
“Why’d you come back tonight?”
“To see you.”
“You came for your family,” Brendan said, putting the napkin down.
“No, stupid. I was… in my crappy apartment, feeling crappy, wondering about you. And finally I thought, fuck it.”
“And drove three hours?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, shit,” Brendan said at last, looking pleased.
“I miss you. I’ll always drive three hours for you.”
Brendan thought for a moment. He thought about what he’d been thinking about since he first saw Kenny, the red hair, his thick shoulders, his full torso, the firmness of him that had always made Brendan tremble.
“You wanna come home with me tonight?” he said.
Then, “I’m not saying we have to think beyond tomorrow. Or tonight. But… tonight.”
“Yes,” Kenny said.
Brendan opened his mouth again, but Kenny raised his hand to signal for the check.
“Yes,” he said again.

In the morning, Brendan heard Sam Cooke and Lou Rawls singing:

You know I’ll always
be your slave
until I’m buried
buried in my grave, oh oh yeah
bring it, bring it on home to me
yeah! Yeah!
Yeah!


Brendan turned on his side and saw Kenny coming back into bed, the milkiness of his body lightly covered in freckles. Kenny climbed back into the bed that had the smell of them, of sweat and heat and he said, “You gotta go to the bathroom or anything?”
“Yes,” Brendan discovered, and rolled out of bed, but not before Kenny ran a hand over his ass. When Brendan came back from the bathroom, Kenny sprang, his mouth on him, his thick arms around him, belly pressed to him. Instantly Brendan was in it too, and they kissed and wrestled back and forth. Brendan felt Kenny pull his face down and kiss him roughly, and then he turned Kenny over and kissed him all over his body, took his sex in his mouth, kissed him up and down his legs and up again. They lay side by side now. With a gentle pressure of fingers, Kenny turned Brendan on his back and then sat across him. Kenny’s thighs and buttocks were so firm, so hot on him, and Kenny rose up and descended, expertly drawing him in.
“Does this mean…” Brendan began. “That we’re together again?”
He moaned as he felt himself inside of Kenneth and Kenneth moaned too. They were like that, in silent bliss for a second, and then Kenny leaned down and kissed his face. He took up the slow rhythm. They took it up together, moaning and moving into the sunrise and the new day.
“Baby,” Kenny said as he fucked him, “it means we were never apart.”


THERE WAS A KNOCK AT THE DOOR.
“Hold on!” Brendan called, moving around the little apartment. “I need to… let me find a shirt.”
“Forget the shirt, open the door.”
Brendan stopped at the sound of the longed for voice.
Of course he had no pants on either, but there was no dignified way to say, “Let me find some pants.”
He ran up the short flight of steps and opened the wooden screen. Brendan unlocked the door and stood before him in nothing but a towel.
“You… must have heard my thoughts,” Brendan said, all the sad thoughts, all the fears disappearing. He was surprised to feel himself tearing up.
“Well, just don’t leave me out in the cold! Let me in.”
He took the young man in the tan parka into the house. He shut the door, and even though he was cold and smelled of ice and snow Brendan held him to his naked chest and sighed.
“Kenneth! I hate it when you’re gone!”