When they leaned in to kiss each other, Jade laughed. “Are they always this gooey?” His black-and-pink hair formed a crazy bed head, with a few pieces sticking up, and the eyeliner had smudged under his eyes. He still looked sexy to Sandy. Sandy was surprised at how easy it had been to share a bed with Jade, after he got over his initial embarrassment. Jade hadn’t snored or rustled around and hogged the covers, but Sandy had sensed his presence and felt him breathing. It had been strangely soothing.
“Always.” Sandy cleared his throat with an exaggerated “ahem” and smiled when Cody and Uncle Phinney broke apart with twin guilty expressions. “The game plan is to get in and out of Rockford alive and as quickly as possible. Which is why I’m flying back to Portland on Saturday morning.”
Jade gave him a startled glance. “That quick a trip?” Then he became thoughtful. “That’s actually a good idea. The airport on Sunday after Thanksgiving is a bitch. I think I’ll see about changing my flight to Saturday too.”
“What about your family?” Uncle Phinney asked. “Will they mind?”
The worry wrinkle between his eyebrows began to make another appearance.
“It’s just my dad. My mom took off when I was five.”
Sandy noticed Phinney glancing at Cody, whose father had left when he was a child. Cody leaned forward, eyes alight with sympathy. “That sucks, man.”
“Oh well.” Jade gave a casual head tilt. “Her loss, you know. She’s never gotten to see how fabulous I turned out. Anyway, Papa is an old Irish cop who makes a mean colcannon and lets me drink whiskey now I’m eighteen. He’ll have my Uncle Pete over, and they’ll play cards. Uncle Pete’s a fireman.”
“What do they make of you in all your fabulousness?” asked Uncle Phinney with a warm smile.
“They love me. Period. They don’t profess to understand me, but”— and here Jade put on his Irish accent—“family’s family, boyo, and dinna forget it.” He beamed at them. “That’s what Papa always says.”
Sandy smiled as usual when Jade used the Irish accent, because Jade so did not look the part of an Irishman. But he felt a twinge at the contrast between Jade’s accepting relatives and his own parents. Once they’d tracked Sandy down at Uncle Phinney’s, Mom had threatened to never let him come home even to visit until he got conversion therapy. They’d changed their tune a few months later and invited him home for Thanksgiving—but Phinney didn’t trust them, and neither did Sandy, to be honest. He was only going back so he could see Connor and the girls.
“Jade, how are you getting from Chicago to Rockford?” Uncle Phineas asked.
“I’m taking the bus.”
“Oh, no.” Uncle Phinney shook his head. “We’re renting a car in Chicago. We’ll give you a ride.”
“Thanks.”
Sandy sighed and said to Jade, “And because my parents are nuts and think Phinney has cooties, Dad is coming all the way to Chicago to pick me up. I wish I could drive to Rockford with you guys.”
“Me too.” Uncle Phinney’s worry wrinkle was back in full force.
“Is Darcy even going to let you in her house?” Cody asked Phinney.
“Probably not.”
Mom blamed Phinney, her younger brother, for corrupting Sandy into making “sinful lifestyle choices.” She also hadn’t forgiven him for harboring Sandy when he ran away and not letting her know he had Sandy until she discovered it for herself. But Sandy would always love Uncle Phinney for those exact things.
“Where are you guys going to stay?” Jade asked.
“We’ll be in a hotel, because there’s nowhere else to stay now that my parents have moved to assisted living. Sandy, you can camp out with us there if things get too bad at Darcy’s.”
Sandy appreciated that he didn’t call it “home.”
“Or you can bunk with me and Papa.” Jade nodded decisively.
“Thanks, guys.” Sandy swallowed over the lump in his throat. It felt good to have them in his corner.
“Do your parents know you’re gay?” Jade asked Uncle Phinney.
“No. Or… they may know, but we’ve never discussed it. They never knew about Allen, even though we were together for twelve years. I’d come home every Christmas and have to leave him behind.” Uncle Phinney gave a sad chuckle, his gaze far away. “He didn’t care about not spending it together, because he was Jewish. He always said he’d do like every other Jew—eat Chinese and go to the movies. But it was hard not being able to be with him.”
“Allen?” Jade looked from Cody to Phineas.
Cody took Uncle Phinney’s hand. “Allen was Phineas’s first love. He died almost five years ago.” He lifted Phinney’s hand and kissed it. “I’m honored to be with Phineas now and to be able to meet the parents, even if they think I’m just a friend.”
“Aww,” Jade cooed and beamed at the inevitable kiss between the two incorrigible lovebirds.
Sandy cleared his throat pointedly until he had their attention. “So how’s this Thanksgiving thing going to work? Mom can’t have Gran and Gramps at her house and leave you guys out.” Sandy’s anger rose and his fists clenched. Their brand of Christianity was such bullshit.
Uncle Phinney sighed. “I’m sorry, Sand-Man. We don’t mean to disrupt the family Thanksgiving. Reg and Becka have invited us to Becka’s parents’, and then we’ll all go visit Mom and Dad once they get back from Darcy’s. It’ll work.”
“My Uncle Reg and his wife live in New York City,” Sandy said to Jade. “If my parents weren’t such assholes, we could all be together on Thanksgiving. I hate them.” Sandy felt the sting of tears and stared at his plate. “I hate them so much.” He only raised his eyes when he felt Jade’s hand encircling his arm.
“Buck up, boyo. Do your duty with the ’rents, then you and Connor come over to mine and get drunk on Irish whiskey. You can spend the night.”
“Why don’t you come over to Mom and Dad’s with us when we go?”
Uncle Phinney suggested. “I’m sure Reg and Becka will want to see you too. Then you can go to Jade’s after that.”
“Okay. But what’re you guys gonna do on Friday? You aren’t going to leave, are you?” Sandy suddenly felt panicked at the thought of being in Rockford without Phineas and Cody.
Cody reached over and hugged him. “We’re not leaving you as long as you need us there. We’ll be a phone call away. And if you want us to come over and beat someone up, we’ll be there.”
“Yesss!” Jade pumped his fist and winked at Sandy, who couldn’t help but giggle. The prospect of having to survive being with his parents for two days suddenly seemed a lot less onerous. “And whiskey and colcannon it is on Thursday night. For Uncle Phinney and Cody too, okay?”
Uncle Phinney grinned. “Saints preserve us, that sounds marvelous!”
“We could go see a movie Friday night,” Jade said to Sandy. “After we get over our colcannon hangover.”
“I, uh, I have a date with Brittany.”
“Of course you do.” Jade gave him a winning smile before grabbing a piece of toast and taking a savage bite.
Chapter Six
Sandy opened his eyes on Thanksgiving Day to find Connor snoring in his bed at the other side of their room and Josh sprawled in a sleeping bag on the floor. The evening before, Dad had stood stoically in the Chicago train station, pointedly ignoring Uncle Phinney and Cody. They’d ignored him right back and given Sandy a kiss and a hug before heading to the rental car stand. Jade had followed them after greeting Dad in his most outrageous fairy-boy manner, and Sandy could have kissed him for the dull red that had crept up Dad’s neck.
Once it was him and his father walking to the car, however, Sandy began to worry that Dad might take his anger at seeing Phinney and the other two sinners out on him. Dad had smelled of his usual beer, although not bad drunk yet. But Sandy had halfway expected to be walloped until he’d spied someone else in the car. He’d felt a spike of joy at seeing Connor.
And Josh had been in the backseat!
&nbs
p; They’d talked nonstop all the way home, but mindful of Dad’s listening ears, Sandy had deflected their questions about Portland, instead getting Josh and Connor to fill him in on everything he’d missed in Rockford since he’d been gone. He’d listened to Josh’s tales of prom, graduation, and starting at U of C, and been glad that he wasn’t more bummed out. He felt like a person from a different planet, the Rockford doings and even the U of C adventures far removed from his reality.
Still, when he’d walked into his house and been assaulted by the familiar trappings of home—Gran’s lace doilies on the armchairs, the hutch crammed full of old china, and the faint smell of furniture polish mingled with the aroma of homemade cookies—Sandy felt his eyes prickle. And then he’d been ambushed by the girls and was able to bury his face in their shrieking tackle-hugs.
Seeing Mom had helped him regain composure. She’d remained stiff and unyielding during their quasi-hug, and Sandy had realized all over again that he was no longer their good boy, the one to make them proud, and until he changed his evil ways, he could expect the cold shoulder. Dad had already shown it by adding no questions to the torrent from Josh and Connor, instead boasting about Connor being starting linebacker on the varsity team this year.
Okay, Mom and Dad, he thought now as he lazed in bed. Have it your way.
He looked over at the guys. As soon as they’d shut the bedroom door the night before, Sandy had gushed about his life in Portland. “There’s Uncle Phinney and his boyfriend, Cody, who is the coolest musician. We all live in a condo together. Then there’s Phinney’s best friend, Blaine, who’s also from here. He and Phinney ran away from Rockford after high school too. He owns a coffee shop, and his wife Gemma works at Powell’s City of Books. It’s the hugest, best bookstore ever. She’s pregnant, which is why they finally got married, and she’s way cool too. Blaine and Cody are in a great funk band called Da Beat, and I sit in and play bongos for them.”
He’d paused as he took in Josh’s and Connor’s slack faces, like they were trying to compute all this information. “Tell me if I’m talking too much. I really love Portland. And I haven’t even told you about PSU and everyone at the university yet. Oh, and Voodoo Doughnuts! And the skatepark! That’s where I met my friend Dare.”
He, Connor, and Josh would have stayed up half the night talking if it hadn’t been for Mom coming in and shushing them. They’d wanted to know every detail of Sandy’s time in the Pacific Northwest, and before being shut down, he’d told them a few of the cool adventures he’d had with Dare, leaving out the detail about them being lovers.
Sandy thought about that now as he contemplated a crack in the ceiling.
Back when he’d split, he hadn’t told Connor and Josh that the final showdown with Mom and Dad had actually been about him coming out as bi. The parents taking away U of C had been enough of a reason for them. Once Sandy had plunged into life in Portland, he didn’t think about coming out to his Rockford friends and family. Rockford was out of sight and practically out of mind. But here he was, and it was past time to let them know.
Lord, this coming out thing never stopped. He was struck that he’d told Jade on the train without a second thought. Well, that was because Jade was queer too. And everyone knew about Jade being gay. Jade was brave.
He didn’t give a fuck. So why should Sandy?
“Hey. Dudes!” Sandy stuck his foot out from the bed and jiggled Josh, who grumbled and tried to twist away from him. “Wake up. Josh! Connor!”
“Wha…?” Connor, always easy to rouse, sat bolt upright. “What’s going on?”
“I wanna tell you guys something.” Sandy gave Josh another firm shove with his foot.
“Screw you!” Josh sat up slowly, passing a hand over bleary eyes. “What?”
“You know when Dad socked me right before I left?”
“Yeah,” they both replied.
“It was because they found out I’m—”
“You’re not a virgin. Dude, we already knew that.” Josh yawned.
“No. I mean, yes, that was the first thing they found out. But then they found out about the gay thing.”
“What?” Connor’s eyes got wide.
“Um, not exactly gay, but bi. I like it with both guys and girls. I was sick of Mom and Dad and wanted to piss ’em off, so I left a gay magazine out for them to find.”
“Bi?” Josh yawned again. “There you are, having sex with both girls and guys, and I can’t get no one interested. Lucky you. So how’d you find out you like guys?”
“Well… Jade Byrne helped me figure it out.”
Josh laughed. “He would.”
Sandy couldn’t get over how underwhelmed Josh was acting. He turned his gaze to Connor, who still looked thunderstruck. “Cons? You okay with this?”
Connor swallowed visibly, then nodded. “Yeah. Sure. I can’t believe you told the ’rents, though. Jesus Christ, Sands.”
“Yeah. That was why the big blowup. Then they took away U of C, and they were going to send me to a ‘pray away the gay’ camp.”
“I knew about U of C, which sucked, but ‘pray away the gay’? That’s a bunch of bullcrap,” Josh proclaimed, then burped. “’Scuse me.”
“Totally. But it’s cool. It gave me the kick in the pants I needed to get out of here.”
“Are… are you really happy out there?” Connor huddled under his covers with a wistful expression.
“I really am.”
“Maybe I can come out after I graduate.”
Sandy grinned. “Absolutely! Cons, it’s so awesome.”
Josh leaned forward. “Dude, is it really like that show Portlandia? And everyone’s a vegan?”
As he answered their eager questions and told them more, Sandy realized where his home really was—Portland, with Uncle Phinney, Cody, and all the rest. All he had to do was survive the next two days, and he’d be headed home where he belonged.
“Let us pray.”
Sandy and his family obediently bowed their heads while Dad uttered some words to Our Heavenly Father and his Most Blessed Son. The smell of turkey and sweet potatoes wafting from the plates was so heavenly, Sandy almost drooled. Thank God for turkey, cornbread stuffing, and green bean casserole. Sandy couldn’t wait to stuff his face, the better to keep his mouth shut even when his parents seemed bent on provoking him. Then he planned to cut out with Connor to meet Uncle Phinney and the rest at Gramps and Gran’s place.
Sandy’s grandparents had called earlier to beg off coming to Thanksgiving dinner, saying that Gran wasn’t feeling up to it, and inviting all of them to join the rest of the family at their assisted living facility in the afternoon. Mom and Dad, of course, had declined, not wanting to get any of Uncle Phinney’s gay cooties on them. He’d heard Dad yelling in their bedroom, and Mom had come out with traces of tears on her cheeks.
Sandy had stared at her, his insides contorting with sympathy for her pain. Then he’d clenched his jaw and turned away. Why couldn’t she stand up to that asshole? Dad was keeping her from being with her parents and brothers on Thanksgiving! But no, she had to be the good little Catholic wife and submit to her husband’s judgment, or whatever crap it said in the Bible.
Sandy’s phone vibrated under his napkin, and he schooled the smile from his solemn face. As soon as Dad uttered “Amen,” he moved the napkin to read Jade’s text. Colcannon and whiskey. Keep the faith. They’d been texting each other all day, and each time he got a Jade message, he had a burst of happiness.
His mouth quirking into a smile despite his efforts, Sandy glanced up to find Mom studying him, a frown on her drawn face. She seemed to have lost another ten pounds since he’d been gone, and she had already been too thin from her endless dieting and exercising. It was probably good Sandy had grown out the green in his hair. Mom didn’t look well, and he didn’t want to give her a coronary. As it was, she hadn’t spoken much to him since her stiff “welcome home” hug the night before.
Earlier in the day, she’d waved away his off
er to help with the cooking, telling him to go watch TV with “the boys.” Dad and Uncle Joe (not Sandy’s real uncle, thank God, but Dad’s high school buddy and fellow asshole) had been in the den, drinking beer and yelling at the football games, while Mom had worked herself to the bone in the kitchen, Maureen at her side. Ah, gender roles… alive and well in the Nixon household.
Sandy took another bite of turkey. Mom was a pretty good cook, but Cody was phenomenal. He resolved to get better at cooking when he got home. Cody had been teaching Sandy some of his favorite recipes, and he’d have the month to himself to practice while those guys visited Cody’s family and friends.
He turned his attention to his sisters across the table. Maureen, Bridget, and Caitlin giggled and fidgeted, hair ribbons in their red curls. Their bright blue eyes and freckled faces showed no trace of worry or fear. Sandy knew they had to be affected by Dad’s drinking, but hoped things had calmed down since he wasn’t around anymore for Dad to yell at. When they looked over at him, he crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue, sending them into gales of laughter.
Connor slouched next to him, shoveling in his food and keeping his own counsel. Sandy still felt bad for bailing and leaving Connor to deal with Dad’s crap. At least Connor had sports. He was an even better athlete than Sandy, who’d played on almost every St. Ignatius team. Connor’s ability in sports kept him on Dad’s good side most of the time, until Dad got too drunk. Then Connor stayed out of his way.
At the end of the meal, Sandy helped Mom clear the table, brushing off Dad’s insistence that he come watch the Bears beat the Packers. Dad corralled Connor instead.
“Sandy, you don’t have to do this,” Mom said, gathering up plates.
“I know.”
He followed her into the kitchen and watched her stack the dishes to the side of the sink. “You want help washing?”
She shook her head. “I’ve got a way I do it. It’s fine.”
“I’ll get the rest from the table.”
When he returned and offloaded the last armful, she asked, “What are you doing later?”
Sand-Man's Family Page 6