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The houses in rossford

I'm sure there will be lots of trouble to come. Let's hope our friends get through it. See you tomorrow night.
 

CHAPTER
SEVEN

WORK / ETHIC CONTINUED

There was a rapid knocking on the door of his apartment, and then before Tom Mesda could answer it, the lock rattled and in came Fenn.
“Fenn!”
“I need to talk to you.”
“Fenn, I could have been naked or, doing something—”
“Save it, Thomas. Not right now.”
Tom blinked, and going to close the door and examine his lock, said, “All right. What’s up?”
“Okay, well, everything’s taken care of.”
“With?”
“With the money. But the account is in my name. Not mine and Todd’s name, and I tried to explain that. And he went on and on about how he always tries to make us one and I always try to keep us separate and how he wanted the partnership and shit, and the little church wedding—”
“Yeah,” Tom sounded wistful. “That was nice.”
“It was gay.”
“Of course it was gay.”
“That’s not what I mean. And how the house is mine, and we have separate accounts and all of this… crap.”
Tom gave that look that made Fenn say, “What?”
“I mean, look,” Tom said, sitting down and smoothing his trousers, “all I’m saying is… maybe it isn’t crap.”
“What?”
“I mean, maybe you need to hear him out. Or… make a gesture like… putting his name on that account too.”
“Hell, no!”
Tom frowned, “Or… making him co-owner of the house. Maybe letting him pay the rest of the mortgage or… something.”
“No, no, no and no.”
“Did you come here to ask for my help or not?”
“Not,” Fenn said. “I came here to bitch because I’m pissed off.”
“Well… you could… offer him something. You know, like I said, joint bank account. Joint… anything. Heck, maybe even have a kid.”
“Are you stupid?”
“Fenn.”
“I hate kids.”
“You would love your own.”
“No. I wouldn’t. I would not. And… the whole turning his and his into ours. It just complicates shit… If anything happens.”
“Like if you break up.”
“We’re not breaking up. Who the fuck said we were breaking up?”
“You did.”
Fenn looked at him.
“I mean you implied it.”
“I said… anything could happen. I mean, you can’t always be sure.”
Fenn stopped talking. Tom was looking at him the way he hated to be looked at.
“Well, say it,” Fenn said. “Whatever it is.”
Tom nodded and said, “It’s just… when we were together, you loved all that stuff. You were all gushy about the getting married and us having a house together and all of it being our, ours. It was so sweet. I mean, I loved that about you. About us.”
“You didn’t love it enough, did you?”
Tom opened his mouth and then closed it. He nodded.
“That’s fair.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Well,” he murmured, “I hope you don’t fuck your relationship up with Todd just because I fucked up my relationship with you. Don’t let that happen, Fenn.”
“Don’t,” Fenn began. “Don’t ABC After School Special me. You’re right. It changed me, Tom. What you did. All right. I’m over it. I’m not mad anymore. I’m not… anything I was, anymore. I’m not the same. I can’t be the same.”
“Todd is a bigger man than me.”
“He’s certainly a taller one. But, I’m not worried about him cheating on me or me cheating on him. It’s just… What I learned with us is that anything can end. Anything can happen. I still believe that.”
Tom shook his head.
“What?” Fenn said.
“I love you, Fenn. You know that.”
“Yes, I know it. Of course I know it. I’m sure you loved me when… when you were drilling Brian Babcock. You thought you had me, didn’t you? You had convinced yourself that it could never end, and that’s why you took advantage of it. I know you. That’s why you did what you did. But talking about joint bank accounts and… joint this and joint that doesn’t change what I am. What I always was. What you think you turned me into but what I must have been all along.
“I am the person who if you put a toe out of line, I will leave. And in my world what is mine is always mine. I might share it with you. I might give you the security code. But I shared it. I gave it. And it’s mine. I have to… hold onto what is mine, hold onto myself.” Fenn stopped. “That’s the way I’ve always been.”
Tom said nothing.
“That’s part of why we ended,” said Fenn.
“I don’t know about that.”
“I do. I think. It’s part…”
“Fenn, you give Todd everything. That’s the truth.”
Now it was Fenn’s chance to say, “I don’t know about that.
“And even if I do… I could give more. Offer more.” Fenn shrugged. “I could try.”


Before Noah and Paul had come he’d always talked about cleaning out their room out and turning it into an office, the way Todd had an office and the basement to do his movies. But instead he’d kept the living room as his work and rest space. He was there now, lying on the sofa, books open and papers scattered around him when Paul came downstairs.
“Did Todd ever come back?” said Paul.
“Oh, Todd is very much back. He came back quiet and sullen, and I didn’t say much, and now he’s upstairs. I guess pretending to be asleep.”
“Oh,” was all Paul could think to say about that without sounding stupid. He switched the subject.
“Well, you know, I had a chat with Noah.”
“Um hum?” Fenn took his hand from his face and opened on eye.
“He wants to go back down to Florida. He’s thinking about going from Florida to South America. Or something. I don’t know. I’m gonna drive him to the airport Friday morning. Actually, I need Todd’s Land Rover, so I should ask.”
“I can’t imagine him saying no.”
“And then I should get my own car.”
“Well,” Fenn gave a small smile, “you can do that now.”
“And I should look for a place to live.”
“Wait!” Fenn sat up. “You just wait a minute. You have a place to live.”
“What?” Then Paul laughed. “I can’t stay here!”
“Why not?”
“Because… Because I’m imposing.”
“How are you imposing if I’m begging you to stay? Don’t go. What’s the point in your leaving? At least don’t go just yet.”
Paul made a face and said, “I’ll think about it.”
“Well, if you want to leave—”
“No, I don’t want to leave. But I feel like I should. I’ve been on my own since I was eighteen. I… I feel like I might be getting soft. You know…? If I stay here. I want to know I can depend on myself. Not take up other peoples’ space.”
“You know,” Fenn said, “I’ve always heard how important it was to be self reliant and… self made. To be able to depend on yourself. I’ve never had much to say for that, though. No one really does things by himself. Stay.”
Paul grinned, from the corner of his mouth and clapped his hands together.
“Well, when you put it that way…”
“Good,” Fenn stood up. “It’s not that you need a place. It’s that I need you around. Now, I need to go upstairs and talk to Todd.”

“Todd, we need to talk.”
“I’m sleeping.”
“Well wake the fuck up,” Fenn flipped the light on.
Fenn sat on the bed and said, “We never fight. You and I.”
Todd, slowly, sullenly, got up and said, “I know.”
“Let’s not fight now. I’ll put your name on the account tomorrow, all right? And, how about we co-own the house?”
“How? You already bought it.”
“Well, all the mortgage isn’t paid so... we can work out something. Or I can just put your name on the title. Whatever. All right? You were right. I do withhold. Let’s not fight.”
“Now, wait just a minute, Fenn. I’ve been thinking.”
“Oh, God.”
“No, hear me out, okay?”
Fenn nodded.
“What I said tonight. It wasn’t fair. Accept in the money, where I asked you to get rid of it, there isn’t a thing you haven’t done for me if I asked. You thought we were good like we were. I wanted the whole commitment ceremony. You thought we were fine having separate places, I wanted to live with you. Everything I said about you wanting things separate, the thing is… you did want them, and in the end you gave in because you cared enough about me to make me happy. You went through that whole ceremony and… I guess it’s time I grew up. I mean, that’s why I didn’t say anything when I came home. I’ve been thinking. And you coming in here and telling me what you just did made me able to say what I just said.
“It’s yours, keep it. All right? In your name. Do what you said you were going to do.”
“You can use it whenever you want to. It’s just…I liked having my name on it—”
“I get it. Let’s not change anything, right now. Okay?”
Fenn nodded his head.
“Let’s just go to bed.”

 
CHAPTER
SEVEN

WORK / ETHIC CONCLUSION


“Fenn did something really… dangerous for him.
In the kitchen, Dan Malloy looked at Todd, waiting for him to elaborate.
“He offered to put my name on the house and on his bank account.”
“Well…” Dan said, “I mean, most couple do that.”
“We’re not most couples,” Todd said. He stirred his coffee with a finger and, frowning, said, “I’ve been with Fenn a long time. I’ve known Fenn my whole life. I think he was seeing if I would call his bluff.”
“Oh, com’on,” Dan said. “I would like to think that he was being sincere when he made that offer.”
“He was,” Todd said cautiously. “In his way. I can’t believe Fenn’s opinion changed that quickly in a few hours. I mean, I thought, the man has given me everything every time I’ve asked, and if he gave me this that would essentially mean that anything I asked of Fenn and got angry enough about he would hand over.”
“He would offer it,” Dan said.
“No, he would be handing it over. Which would mean he was whipped, which would mean he’s not Fenn. And I got with Fenn because of who he is. He was testing me.”
Dan frowned and thought, privately, that this made a warped kind of sense and that he was glad to be single. Fenn had confiscated five hundred thousand dollars. It wasn’t like him to give in. For any reason.
“Does that upset you?” Dan said.
“What’s the difference?” Todd said. “He offered. No matter what. Only with someone whipped it would have been caving in, and with Fenn he was just seeing what I was made of. And I saw what he was made of. I…” Todd shook his head and grinned fiercely. He shrugged. “What can I say? We’re not like other couples.”


The bus squealed to a halt outside of the old Western Union with its red lettering and out came Lee Phillips. He pushed the door open and a little bell rang. He crossed the small, ugly tile floor and went to the bullet proof window.
“Lee Phllips,” he spoke into the little disk. “There’s something for me.” He opened his wallet and showed his ID.
“All right, Mr. Philips,” the man at the window said. He returned a few seconds later and said, “Here you go. Have a good day, Mr. Philips.”
“You, too, sir.”
Lee smiled with a southern charm which was all the more amazing because he came form Indiana and, touching his Panama hat, turned and left while he stuffed his wallet in his back pocket and folded the envelope in his hand before sticking both, sharply in his side pocket.

He waited. Fifteen minutes, under the shade of the Western Union for the next bus. Goddamn it was hot here, and when he got on, he rejoiced in the air conditioning and kept his mind on the end of the bus line when it would stop at the hotel.

In dark of the hotel, Lee turned on that air conditioner, stripped, rinsed his face in cold water and then, after drying his hands, took out the envelope and opened it.
For a long time, with a frown, he looked at the money order, mouthing the number of zeros.
“Goddamn,” he said, at last. “Go-oddd-damn.”

County Airport was ten miles out of the city on Route Two. Paul took the Land Rover and thought, briefly, of telling Todd about the movies they had made. While Paul drove Noah, it was the movies that went through his mind, and his whole time, these last few weeks with Noah. The truth was that everything was starting now. Noah had been an in between thing. Here was where his new life began.
West Rossford was threadbare and run down, a little seedy. For a few blocks at a time there came a set of run down buildings and old motels, and then it all stopped and started up again.
“Is that it?” Noah said, pointing ahead, and Paul saw the control tower, planes coming in, indicating this was County Airport.
“Yes,” Paul murmured, “That must be it.”
His brow knit. It was a three block drive from where they saw the tower to the actual airport. They crossed train tracks, and then came through the driveway, past an old model of a World War I plane, and the driveway turned into the trees before turning out into the parking lot.
“I guess we can park here,” said Paul. “Close enough to the airport.”
“It’s a little airport,” Noah commented. “Kinda cute.”
“It’s got a cuteness to it,” Paul agreed.
He climbed out of the Land Rover and turned to open the back of it. Then he climbed back in and, instead of grabbing a bag for Noah, he said, “How long do we have left?”
Noah looked at his watch. “About an hour, I think. Don’t they say you should get to the airport two hours ahead of time?”
“That’s for big airports. Like, for instance, O’Hare. Here’s a little bitty airport.” Paul sprang into the back of the Land Rover, holding a hand out to Noah. He grinned mischievously. “Come in.”
“What?” Noah said. But he took Paul’s hand and climbed in.
“For old times sake,” Paul said.
“What the…? Are you crazy? We…”
“We can’t?” Paul said. “That’s usually my line.”
He turned Noah around, and pulled down Noah’s shorts and underwear. He yanked down his and very quickly, face pressed into Noah’s neck, hands draped over him, began fucking him against the back seat.
It was so good; it was so without thought. It was like the old him, or like the oldest him that he wanted to be in the videos, some essential Johnny Mellow, and he could feel it, his sunglasses on, his mouth buried in Noah’s neck. Noah’s gasps and whimpers, almost like pain, Noah reaching back feebly, his small hands at last touching his ass, stroking Paul’s ass, pulling him in.
Noah strangled and came and, for a brief second, Paul realized he would have to clean that up, then suddenly it turned him on and he drilled him quickly, and came too, shouting, collapsing against Noah’s back.
They lay like that, the two of them, gasping a little. Finally Noah murmured, pulling up his Jockeys, and then his shorts, “What… was… that all about?”
Paul, oriented himself and tucked his polo shirt into his khaki shorts. Pushing up the lid of the back of the Land Rover while recovering from a little dizziness, he admitted: “I’m not sure I know.”

On the plane, Noah was disappointed to know there was no such thing as first class on a flight this small. He was going to demand it when he got to Chicago. He had heard stories of chairs that were shaped like the insides of eggs, where you could just lay down in them, or curl yourself in a ball like a fetus. People came up to you and offered wine. More Cabernet Sauvignon, Mr. Riley?—Well, of course.
As the plane took off, he heard someone call him.
“Noah. Noah, is that you?”
Noah turned, blinked, and realized it was Ned Bank, one of the Chicago Friends of Guy McClintock, in fact the one who had raged at him that afternoon, and whom Noah suspected had turned Guy in.
“Yes… Ned Bank?”
“Right. What’s going on? I haven’t seen you since that whole Guy McClintock thing?”
“Well, I’m just hoping to get more business somewhere else, you know?” Noah said. “I’m heading to Chicago. But just to catch the plane to Florida.”
“I’m going to O’Hare too. I guess everyone on his plane is,” Ned Bank said.
Noah had stopped himself from being foolish and saying, “I came into some money,” and in a moment, he was glad he did.
“They say Guy’ll be out in a few days,” Ned Bank was saying, “because the only thing they could pen him down for, at least right now, was the movie thing, which is legal. Someone’s trying to charge him with drug trafficking, but basically this lawyer—goddamn lawyers—have made it so Guy can just say that drugs were happening in his house. But he wasn’t selling them or taking them. Basically the whole event’s turned into the same thing like, if you owned your house and the police walked in and found someone else snorting smack.”
“Well,” Noah shrugged, still largely uninterested, “that’s the law.”
“Yeah,” Ned Bank nodded. “But you know who’s really cheesed? Joe Callan.”
“Who?”
“One of Guy’s really big partners. He came with... I think half a million dollars to make a purchase. He didn’t tell the police that because it would just get him into more trouble, but he told someone else. They said whenever the police find drug money, they take it and use it for the department.”
“Right,” Noah said. “To buy new cars and stuff.”
“Only,” Ned Bank said, “they didn’t. Not this time.”
“How do you know?”
Well... Joe had a friend of a friend—you know how that goes—who’s got connections with the police. And it turns out they never found that money.”
“That means it just disappeared?” Noah kept his voice down, stilling it, telling himself that pornstars were, after all, actors.
Ned Bank shook his head. “That means it was stolen… And I’d hate to be the guy who stole it when Joe Callan finds out.”

“I don’t give a goddamn!” Fenn declared.
“Fenn,” Paul said. “Noah’s got a point.”
Todd opened his mouth to speak, but Fenn said, “As long as Noah shuts the fuck up, there won’t be a problem. Joe Gallon or Fallon or whatever the fuck his name is knows that he had money, that the money is gone and the police don’t have it. He knows it’s vanished.”
“But it didn’t vanish,” Todd said. “It was stolen. He knows that now.”
“Now, do you see why it’s in my name, and I said it’s my money,” Fenn said to Paul.
“Look, goddamnit. For all he knows it might as well be disappeared. And you know what? It did disappear. Right out of this country. Why do you think it’s not in this country? There is nowhere in the United States that anyone can say Fenn Houghton ever received or did anything with half a million dollars and, quite frankly, no connection between me and that party, or Joe Callan.”
“But there is a connection,” Todd said. “Obviously.”
“What connection?” Fenn looked at him. “That you were a filmmaker for Guy’s movie? And a filmmaker who wasn’t even at the house, as far as he knows? Look, the only way a connection between us and that money could be made is if a drug lord went public and said he wanted the Feds or something to find money he lost at a porn director’s orgy.”
“Or,” Todd murmured, “if Noah said something.”
“Noah wouldn’t say anything!” Paul said quickly. He looked at Fenn.
“No,” said Fenn. “I agree. “Noah wouldn’t.”

For the second time Adele Lawden heard the knock at the door.
“Layla!” she shouted. “Lay-la!”
Good God, if they couldn’t even answer the door, then what good were children?
Another knock at the door, followed by a volley of doorbell ringing told her that Layla hadn’t answered. Maybe she wasn’t even home.
Adele shrugged and went down the stairs to answer the door. Only when she opened it, no one was there.
“What the…”
There was a rattling in the kitchen and Adele shouted back, “Layla.”
But she knew it wasn’t Layla.
Well, now, should she be a hero? Should she go into the kitchen, defend her own house? Would that make her a badass motherfucker, or just a damn fool? She could just scoot out the door like a bitch. And the bitch would live.
Because she had lost Hoot, because she had been married to a man named Hoot in the first place, because Hoot had a bastard child and Adele felt that a stand needed to be taken for something, somewhere, she stomped her foot, took a breath and set down the hallway.
The kitchen door was wide open and so was the refrigerator. Adele saw a man’s khaki colored behind, bent over, rummaging in it. She took a deep breath, became as Black as possible, and shouted:
“What the FUCK are you doing in my house?”
“Looking for some decent food,” Lee Phillips said, closing the refrigerator door. “And finding out there is none.”
“Lee! What are you…? You just broke in.”
“Nobody was answering.
“Reach up in the cupboard and pull down some paprika and garlic salt. Pepper too.”
“All… right,” Adele murmured, nonplused, as her cousin pulled out eggs and cheese and mushrooms.
“You hungry?” he said.
“A little.”
“Good. I’m here for a spell. I was on my way to Fenn’s when I realized his house was crowded enough and you’d probably appreciate some company. What with your husband leaving you and all.”
Adele opened her mouth to swear, frowned at her cousin and then said, “Just makes me some goddamn eggs.”
 
I knew that money would lead to trouble! Hopefully they don't get found out but, I think too many people know about it. Great conclusion to the chapter!
 
WEEKEND PORTION.....

CHAPTER
EIGHT

MAINLY ABOUT SEX

“And then he showed up. Well, not showed up so much as broke into Adele’s house and nearly gave her the shock of her life.”
“Who broke into Adele’s house?” Tom cried, walking into the lounge.
“See,” said Tara, turning away from the old Formica table in the lounge. “That’s what happens when you jump in on grown folks business.”
Tom frowned and Fenn said, “Lee came back yesterday.”
“Your cousin, Lee?”
“You don’t have to sound so horny,” Tara said.
Again the frown. Again Tara’s shrug.
“You do sound a little bit like a panting dog,” Fenn admitted.
“I just… I… well, we only talked once. And then he went back.”
“What about Brian?” Tara said.
“What about him?” Tom’s nostrils flared. “And… why don’t you try minding your own business?”
Tara rolled her eyes, humphed and went back to her coffee.
“Well, he’s going to come around here, right? I mean, he’s a playwright and, well, this is a playhouse. By the way, we’re having try outs for As You Like It. I sent the casting call out as far as South Bend.”
“Are people from The Bend really going to come to our playhouse?” Tara said.
“Well, not if we don’t ask, Tara. And by the way, South Bend may be a little bigger—”
“Try about three times.”
“Yeah, maybe. But they don’t have any more culture than we do.”
Fenn nodded, “Good call, Tom. And the only thing South Bend has on us is an abortion clinic.”
“We don’t have an abortion clinic in Rossford?”
“No, Tara. Did you need one?”
“No, smart ass. I just thought a swinging town like Rossy had to have a Planned Parenthood and a baby snuffer joint.”
Tom eyed her and sniffed. “Do you really call them baby snuffer joints?”
“Not to Gloria Steinem’s face.”
“Yes...” Fenn drew the word out, eyeing his old friend. “Well back to... what were we talking about it?”
Tara said “Casting calls,” at the same time Tom said, “Lee.”
“Brian will be so sad,” Tara commented, “when he finds out that Tom can’t stay away from chocolate bars.”
“What are you—?” he began, then frowned. “You are so crude, you know that?”
“He’s cute when he’s all white and snippity,” Tara commented. “Isn’t he?”
“Is it true?” Fenn said in mock solicitude, stroking Tom’s shoulder. “You know, once you’ve had Black...”
“And he never really did turn back did he?” Tara said, clinically.
“I got an idea, how bout the both of you have a nice cup of—”
“Is he about to say ‘cup of shut the fuck up?’” Tara said.
“Oh, I don’t think he is,” Fenn murmured as Tom rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t think he has that in him.”
Tom opened his mouth, but Fenn said, “You know what? I have an idea. How about the both of you come to dinner tonight?”
“In your kitchen?” said Tom.
“Nope, ass. At Layla’s. I’ll sit you right next to Lee.”
“Fenn, you are not a fair man,” Tara said. “You need to get some dyke cousins so I can have some fun too.”
“Tara Veems, you do too well on your own as it is.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Tom smiled, and walking out the room he sang: “It means you’re a slut.”

In the busy hallway of Saint Barbara’s, Kenny McGrath shouted Dena’s name before she could reply to Milo’s question.
“Hey, Kenny, what’s up?”
Milo nodded in greeting, and Kenny nodded back.
“You seen your not so better half?”
“No,” Dena said. “Brendan is tutoring some kid in math, I think. He usually doesn’t come with us to lunch on Tuesdays.”
“Well, all right. Thanks. I guess I’ll see him at work. They’re moving me up to cashier.”
“Congratulations.”
“Well, I guess,” Kenny said. “The pay is better.”
“Yeah. Brendan says he likes it.”
“Brendan has a knack for it. He can talk to people and remember all the codes.”
“Codes?” Milo raised an eyebrow.
“Every fruit and vegetable has a four digit code you have to type in as you scan it.”
“Fuck!”
“You can say that again. I tried to be a cashier once,” Dena confessed. “ I didn’t make it,”
“I hope I make it.”
“Relax, Kenny, I’m sure you will. You were meant for Martins and Martins was meant for you..”
“You’re being facetious, right?”
“You were meant for Martins and it was meant for you until you graduate, and then you have to move the fuck on. How’s that?”
“Much better. I’ll see you guys, later.”
“Yeah,” Then: “And Kenny?”
“Yup?”
Dena closed her locker and came to him; Milo remained behind.
“Brendan’s always had… you know, buddies. But, until you he never really had friends. I mean, you and Will.”
“Yeah, Will’s great.”
“Yeah. Well, I just wanted to say… I like it. You know. Brendan having someone he can… I know this sounds really grown up and pretentious, but…. You should just hear the way he talks about you. He’s so glad to have you and…”
“What’s going on guys?” Dena heard from down the hall, and Brendan was coming toward both of them.
“I thought you were tutoring that kid?”
“I was,” Brendan said. “Between you me and the Dean’s List, I think he’ll fail.”
Dena was just telling me how glad you were to have me,” Kenny batted his eyelashes.
“You glad to have me, Miller?”
Brendan went pink and scowled at Kenny.
“Not, right now, McGrath.”

“So you would be Jack’s boy,” Lee said to Milo over dinner that night.
“Right,” Milo said. “I can’t believe you know my dad.”
“Well, it’s not so much your dad. It’s your grandparents.”
“Do you remember,” Adele pointed across the table at Nell, “when that one woman pissed Barb off because she kept running after Bob? This was when we were real little, and Barb told my mother about it, and she said don’t take it seriously—”
“But she did take it seriously,” Nell said. “As I remember, that woman owned a hat shop.”
“Right. It’s where that Sonic burger place is now.”
“You know your grandmother took her Cadillac and drove right through the window!” Adele said to Milo.
Layla burst out laughing, and Milo and Dena looked at each other.
“My grandma?”
“She’s a wild one,” Fenn said. “I mean, even now she’s a wild one.”
“That priest down in Florida—” Paul began.
“You were in Florida?” said Milo.
Fenn looked at Paul.
“Yes,” Paul amended. “Checking out a few things. Went with Father Dan.”
“I didn’t even knew you knew Dan,” Adele said.
“Yeah,” Paul told her, waving his fork nonchalant while Tom exchanged glances with Fenn and Lee.
“Anyway,” Paul said, “this old abbot knew Barb and said that there wasn’t a thing the thought of her couldn’t make him do. I’ve seen her now. I can’t imagine what she was like fifty years ago.”
“I guess my grandparents are alright,” Milo said.
“Your grandparents,” Paul told him, “are far more than all right.”
“Did you guys know,” Todd said, “that Paul has convinced Fenn to go down to East Carmel with him on the weekend?”
“What the fuck for!” Adele and Lee said together, and then looked at each other.
“My family lives down there.”
“Really?” Lee said. The news that Paul was a former pornstar was nothing, compared to this.
“What’s wrong with East Carmel?” said Milo.
“What’s wrong with a Klan rally?” Lee said. “Tom, pass me a roll.”
Tom did while Dena said, “East Carmel is just… sort of the place Black people don’t go.”
“East Carmel is the place Black people, brown people, gay people, purple people and, last time I checked, anyone whose last name ends in ski doesn’t go,” Lee added.
“It’s not that bad,” Paul said, a little defensive. “At least… I don’t remember it being that bad.”
“Well, in all honesty,” Tara said, “you wouldn’t really know.” She bit into a roll. “You know?”
Tom looked at Lee and said, “Is he gonna be safe down there?”
“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” Lee admitted. “Provided he doesn’t just go wandering all around by himself. I mean, I was just in Texas, and it’s full of places like that.”
“I thought you were in Kansas.”
“I was, but after Kansas I went to Texas. Incidentally, Kansas has the same shit too. Lot’s of white folks would just love to string them a nigger.” Lee said, affecting an accent.
Tom grinned out of the side of his mouth.
“So, why’d you go to Texas?” he whispered to Lee.
“Because they say everything’s bigger there.”
Tom thought for a minute, and then choked on his food.
“And I wanted to find out if it was.”
Tom took a sip of water, and then said, face expressionless, “And was it?”
Lee murmured, behind his hand: “For the most part, yes.”
Across the table Tara asked Layla, “What’s Tom laughing at?”
“I can’t guess. But knowing Lee, it’s probably inappropriate.”
“So,” Lee, was saying to Tom, “there’s this new play called The Uppity Knight, by this man with an unpronounceable name—”
“Ripley Bogart! Yeah, I know. Terrible name. Great play. I’m reading it right now. Someone sent it to me. I’d love to get the rights to do it. Do you know him?”
“I’ve met him,” Lee said. “Perhaps after dinner we could go out somewhere and talk about an arrangement.
“Oh, don’t look at me all shocked like that, Tom. I’m not stupid.”
“No,” Tom said, turning back to his food. “Far from it, I’d say.”
“I’d say,” Lee murmured with a wry smile.
“It’s a shame Brendan couldn’t be here,” Will said.
“He’s always working.” Dena said.
Lee, who heard, said, “Dena, you ought to tell your man all work and no play—”
“Makes a dull boy, Lee?”
“No, Tara. Makes a single boy.”

“You know, this is one of my favorite places,” Tom said.
“This lake?”
“Um hum. See, right across it you can see the college chapel. And that’s the old dorm where Fenn lived.”
“Did you ever hang out there?”
“Hang out there? I practically lived there. We were the same age, more or less. But I had just graduated from Notre Dame and, you know, Fenn had taken the year off so he was still a student while I was working my first little job. I felt so independent. I wasn’t. My uncle got me the job. But I felt independent.”
Lee smiled.
“Everyone knows how things ended with you and Fenn,” he said. “But what I want to know is how they began? That’s what I would like to know.”
“They began…” Tom did something between a smile and a frown, squinting.
“The first time I met Fenn, well, that was after Mass, on a Sunday night. Evening, at the beginning of the school year. I was feeling very sedate and grown up and not paying attention, and all of a sudden this very expensive twenty-one speed bicycle nearly hit me. It just squealed, and I blinked and shouted and there was Fenn looking down at me and grinning.
“You know, I don’t think he apologized or anything.”
“You should have been paying attention.”
Tom laughed out loud and said, “That’s exactly what he said… Later, you know, when I told him about that.
“But I’d seen him before. It was his… smile, I guess. I always wondered about him. And then came the day he almost ran me over. It seems like we just kept running into each other all the time after that. And then one day he says, rubbing his chin like this, you know the way he does, ‘So, are we gonna be friends or what?’ And that’s how it started.
“I love thinking about that, remembering all of that. How it started. But sometimes it hurts.”
“Because remembering how it started reminds you how it ended?”
Tom nodded.
“But it didn’t end,” Lee said. “It changed. But it didn’t end.”
 
Brendan is definitely one of my favorite characters. I really do love him. He's had to sit out for a few sections, but he'll be back.
 
CHAPTER
EIGHT

MAINLY ABOUT SEX CONTINUED



“Dena, are you going to be free tomorrow?”
“I’m free everyday,” Dena pointed out over the phone that night. “It’s you that’s always busy.”
“With—”
“I know, Brendan. With work. I was just saying.”
“I can’t very well tell them, sorry, now that you’re giving me the hours I asked for I have to cut back because I want to hang out with my girlfriend.”
“Especially if you don’t.”
“What? Look,” Brendan said, “I do wanna spend time with you.”
“I was just joking, Bren. You’re very tightly wound, you know that?”
“I’m stressed is all.”
“Well… come on over tomorrow. We’ll hang out just the two of us. Tomorrow afternoon, like you said. And you can get unstressed.”
There was a pause, and Dena could feel him unstressing on the other side of the phone, she fancied.
“That sounds real good.”
“We can watch a movie or something. I Got 27 Dresses.”
“Really?”
“I was really joking. We’ll watch something gory with too much sex. Just our taste.”
“That’ll be great,” Brendan told her.
“How’s Kenny?”
“Whaddo you mean?”
“I mean,” Dena said, “how’s Kenny? I mean, isn’t he a cashier now?”
“Oh… Oh, yeah. Yeah, Kenny’s great. Well, you know. He’s Kenny.
“Ey, Deen, I’m sorry I haven’t been around much. I mean, not since your birthday and all. And I should have been.”
“It’s all right,” Dena told him. “It’s like you said. You do have work. And I’ve got the gang. And Milo is great.”
“I don’t even know him. Not really.”
Dena wondered if she’d mentioned Milo to make Brendan jealous. She wondered why he wasn’t.
“Well, like you said, you’ve been busy. Oh, one last thing, Bren.”
“Uh huh.”
“It’s Will. Layla thinks he’s feeling a little left out. Since you started hanging with Kenny.”
“Oh,” Brendan said. “Oh, shit. I’ll make it up to him. It’s just we work together and… you know. Everything.”
“I know. Just make sure Will knows. He’s a good guy.”
“I know he is. He’s my friend.”
“And, besides, if you don’t talk to him, Layla’s gonna have your ass.”

“Brendan, long time no see.”
“I’ve been working a lot, Mrs. Reardon.”
“I guess,” Nell said. “Come here.” She looked him up and down. “Have yo gotten taller?”
Brendan blushed and shrugged. “Maybe a little.”
“See what happens when you don’t come around?” Nell shuddered when she touched his hand, and then grabbed his fingers.
“That’s a cold grocery store. Sit down, Brendan.”
Nell went to the bottom of the kitchen stairs and shouted up, “Dena! Brendan’s here.”
“All she’s been talking about is how you’re never here,” Nell resumed in a more confidential voice. “And when you do show up, she just… does whatever she’s doing upstairs.”
“I like what you’ve done to the house, Mrs. Reardon,” Brendan's wide, light blue eyes surveyed the ceiling and wallpaper.
“All I’ve done is clean it, Bren,” she said as Dena came down the stairs in a baggy tee shirt and jeans, her long dark hair in a ponytail.
“Okay, so do we watch Rose McGowan's horror movie debut, or do we watch Return of the Homicidal Van?”
“Homicidal Van?” Nell said.
“Yes,” Dena explained. “It’s this old VW peace van that a bunch of protesters were murdered in back in the Sixties. It comes back to avenge them. Sort of like a cross between Christine and Herby the Love Bug.”
“Oh,” Nell said, making a face.
“You know,” Brendan cocked his head, “as bad as Rose McGowan is, that sounds infinitely worse. Let’s watch it.”
They caught hands and ran out of the kitchen and down the hall while Nell shook her head looking after them.

“I’ll make popcorn,” Dena said.
“Well, I’m not just going to sit here and watch the movie while you slave over popcorn.”
“It’s not exactly slaving,” Dena said as she got up. But Brendan hit stop, and followed her out anyway.
By the time he was in the kitchen, she’d already stuck a bag of microwave popcorn in and was watching it, convinced that even after twenty seconds, if ever unattended it could burn.
“What happened to Mom?” Dena wondered.
Brendan shrugged and took down the salt.
“Extra butter?”
“Yes,” she said. “You know, you never gain any weight. It’s not fair.”
Brendan crossed his feet and, leaning against the counter, shrugged.
When the popcorn was done and Brendan had taken out sodas, Dena set to shaking salt and pouring popcorn. And then they went back to the den.
“You know,” she said, setting the bowl down, “I missed you, but I have a feeling I lost a lot of weight when you weren’t around.”
Brendan cackled and tossed kernels into his mouth. They never hit the floor when he did it.
Halfway through the movie, when the Van had come up out of the swamp, covered in shit colored algae, round lights blinking menacingly, and it was about to chase a sheriff down the road, Dena felt Brendan take her hand in his long, cool one.
She placed her head on his shoulder. He was tall, but thin, and he’d always been all angles. Sometimes she wondered, would a strong wind—a considerably strong wind—blow him away.
“You’re my best friend, Dena.”
That caught her off guard.
“What?” He turned to her with those sad, vaguely tilted eyes. He was so pretty to her.
“That’s pretty… strong.”
“I guess,” Brendan shrugged.
“Bigger than some corny I love you.”
“Well, I do love you. But, you are my best friend. You mean so much to me.”
“Thanks, Bren. You mean so much to me too.”
“How long have we been together?”
“About two years.”
“Yeah,” Brendan said, slowly, frowning wisely.
A scream of horror and the rev of the killer van roared from the television.
“Dena?”
“Yeah?”
“I think it’s time we had sex.”

“And then you told him No.”
When Dena said nothing for a prolonged amount of time, Layla repeated
“And then you told him no.”
“Well, not exactly.”
“Not exactly? What the hell do you mean, not exactly? The man says, Dena, let’s watch a gay porn. Dena, I am going to work all the time and never be around. Then he pops out of the blue with, Dena, let’s start having sex? What’s there to think about? Not really anything.”
“Well, when you say it… that way... it makes so much sense. You’re so sensible.”
“And usually you are too. Put his shit out of your mind.
“And what about Milo?”
“What about…?” Dena looked at her. “What about Milo?”
“Well, all this time that Brendan’s been in hiding—”
“He was at work, Layla.”
“Wherever he was, all this time Milo’s been right at your side.”
“But we are friends. Just friends.”
“But he is fine,” Layla observed. “I mean, for a white dude he is definitely fine.”
“Did you just say for a white dude? What is Will?”
“You are completely missing my point.”
“No, I’m not. Your point is ‘What about Milo?' and my point is, ‘There is no Milo.’”
“Does Milo know that?”
“What?”
“Don’t… don’t WHAT me, Dena. Does Milo know that? Ever since he came to town, Brendan has been a no show and you all have been thick as thieves—”
“He knows about Brendan.”
“Maybe he just puts up with you talking about Brendan. Don’t do this, Dena.”
“I haven’t done anything yet.”
“I mean, seriously.”
“Layla!”
Layla put up a hand. “All right already. Oh. By the way,” Layla added, “Did you talk to him about Will.”
“I told him you’d beat the hell out of him if he didn’t make things right with Will.
Layla frowned and said, “I don’t think I ever said that, Dena. But… shit…”she shrugged, “whatever it takes.”
 
Great to have a Brendan centric section! I don't know how long his relationship is going to last with Dena but I guess ill have to wait and see.
 
I love Brendan to death. I really do, but how do you feel about this whole Brendan and Dena having sex business?
 
ChrisGibson said:
I love Brendan to death. I really do, but how do you feel about this whole Brendan and Dena having sex business?
Click to expand...

I think that Brendan just wants to have sex with her because that is what is expected. I think she isn't going to say yes to sex with him but who knows I could be wrong.
 
He and Kenny, do have a definite bond. Only time will tell. Or maybe tonight will tell. Who knows? : )
 
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