by Olsen, Isla
Me: TMI man…just way too TMI!
Shay Kelly: “just way too too much information”? Jake you know how much I hate redundant wording! We have this discussion every time you say the phrase “PIN number”
Me: *eye roll emoji*
Me: I have to get out of the car now or Mom will think I’m avoiding going inside
Shay Kelly: You ARE avoiding going inside
Me: Yeah but I don’t want it to be a whole thing
Shay Kelly: Good luck buddy
Me: Thanks. Congratulations
I let out a steadying breath and finally push open the driver door, stepping out and shoving my phone and keys into my jacket pocket before slamming the door closed and trudging up the driveway toward my mom’s house.
“Took you long enough to get out of the car,” my step-dad grumbles upon opening the front door.
I let out a heavy sigh before stepping over the threshold. “Hey, Trevor.”
“What the hell were you doing out there?” Trevor demands, eyes narrowed.
Jesus, was he watching me through the blinds or something? Probably. I’m surprised he didn’t come out and rap on my car window.
“I was texting with Shay. He got engaged this morning so I was congratulating him.”
That prompts Trevor to let out a derisive snort as he turns and walks back through the house. “Engaged. Men like that can’t get married. Not properly.”
“Actually they can,” I say simply. I should really be saying ‘we,’ not ‘they,’ but I don’t have the energy to deal with that particular can of worms today.
“Don’t talk back to me, you little smartass,” he growls. “Just because it’s legal doesn’t make it right. Completely unnatural…” he mutters, trailing off with a shake of his head.
I give a sigh of exasperation but say nothing. I feel like I’ve just rewound the clock a year and a half to before I went to live with Shay, when I was constantly walking on eggshells, constantly afraid of what Trevor would do if he found out about me being gay. He was never violent, but he had other ways of imposing his will, and the fact that my mom has always been such a fucking doormat meant that if Trevor ever found out about me I’d have been completely at his mercy. I have no doubt he would have convinced my mom conversion therapy was the best option. Thank god for Shay and Jamie is all I can say.
Trevor was fucking furious when it was decided I’d be going to live with my “fag cousin,” and only calmed down when he realized it meant I’d be out of his and mom’s hair and they’d no longer have to deal with me. I’m sure there was also a decent sized part of him that was reluctant to give up the control he had over me, but considering that at that point in time I was hell-bent on flouting authority at every opportunity, he probably figured it wasn’t a huge sacrifice.
“Where’s mom?” I ask unenthusiastically. I feel so completely drained already and I’ve only been in the house five minutes.
It was the same when I came home for Christmas last year. All I can think is, thank god I’ll be eighteen next year and won’t ever have to set foot in this house again.
“In the kitchen,” Trevor grumbles. “Don’t upset her with any of your fag wedding talk.”
I roll my eyes. Mom’s actually good friends with Shay; or at least, she was until she married this homophobic jackass. I can’t imagine her being upset by talk of his engagement, but whatever.
I follow the hallway through to the small kitchen area, finding my mom busy preparing lunch, which looks to be roast chicken with mashed potatoes. When she sees me, her face lights up and she rounds the counter to give me a hug.
“Hi, honey. I’m sorry, lunch is running a little late. Are you hungry?”
I smile at her. “I’m fine. I stopped on the way for some food so take your time.” I wanted to get out of the apartment early this morning to give Shay space for the proposal, but I was in no rush to actually get to Mom and Trevor’s, so I ended up wiling away about two hours at a roadside diner.
She pats me affectionately on the shoulder before returning to her work in the kitchen. “So, what’s news?”
I tell her about all the things that have been going on lately: my cousins settling down with their partners, Brendan’s baby, our rugby team’s near-win in the recent sevens tournament, and, yes, Shay’s proposal. Despite Trevor’s warning, she seems happy to hear all of it. I probably don’t talk to her as often as I should, but I know Shay keeps her up to date with the big things like how my schooling’s going. I just sometimes find it hard not to feel resentful at how easily she finds it to turn a blind eye to Trevor’s bigotry, and it’s just easier not to engage with her. Especially when I’m in New York, which has become my happy place.
“I was thinking maybe this afternoon the two of us could do something together,” I suggest. “Maybe see a movie or something?”
She looks at me quizzically. “Why would we do that?”
Because I want to spend time with you without that asshole around. Obviously I don’t say that, though. I just shrug and affect a nonchalant air. “I just thought it’d be nice to do something together. Just the two of us.”
She offers me a soft smile. “Jake, honey, Christmas is about family. We should all celebrate together.”
I bite down on my jaw in frustration. I want to scream at her for not understanding how a man who despises everything I am could never be considered family, but I know that won’t do any good. Trying to get through to her about Trevor is like pounding on a soundproof door and hoping someone will answer.
I nod, swallowing hard. “Maybe you’re right. But, Mom, this isn’t my family anymore. The Kellys are. So once I turn eighteen next year I’ll be spending Christmas with them.”
Mom stares at me, aghast. “Jake, how could you say that?”
“Because it’s the truth,” I mutter.
She purses her lips and gets back to mashing the potatoes, her actions more forceful than before. “We’ll discuss this later. Today I just want a nice lunch with the two of you getting along for once.”
That seems like asking for a miracle to me, but I nonetheless decide to give it my best shot.
When it comes time to eat, I take my mom’s request to heart and do my absolute best to avoid any hot button topics with Trevor, instead sticking to safe zones like football and hockey.
Everything’s going fine, until my phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out, chuckling when I see the text.
“What’s so funny?” Trevor demands.
My mom sighs. “Jake, you really shouldn’t be looking at your phone while we’re eating…”
“Sorry,” I mutter and move to return my phone to my pocket.
“I want to know what was so important,” Trevor says, eyeing me coolly.
I give a soft shake of my head. “It was nothing, really. Apparently Connor’s son Chase took a step today but there’s a bit of a debate whether it actually counts as his first step or not because he fell over right afterward.”
My mom smiles affectionately, but across the table, Trevor narrows his eyes. “People like that shouldn’t be allowed to have children.” He shakes his head in disgust. “Imagine, an innocent child living under that influence.”
I don’t bother pointing out Chase is Connor’s biological son and the result of a fling with a woman. It’s completely irrelevant. Besides, I’ve reached my threshold for how much of Trevor’s shit I can put up with. Pushing back my chair, I toss my napkin on the table and get to my feet. “You know what, Trevor?” I say, glaring at my step-father. “Fuck. You.”
“Jake!” My mom gasps.
I turn to her, my gaze softening, but just barely. “I’m done. I’m going home.”
I stalk down the hallway and toward the front door, grabbing my coat and angrily shoving my arms into it. I can hear my mom trailing after me, but I just keep walking until I’m outside.
“Jake, wait,” Mom calls, following me out of the house. “We haven’t even had dessert yet!”
I s
pin around, eyeing her incredulously. Dessert? Seriously? That’s her card? I shake my head. “Seeing as how I feel like I’m about to throw up any second, I’m not sure dessert’s the best idea.”
“Honey, please…” she begs.
“This is why,” I growl. “This is why I’m not coming back next year. Or ever. I cannot be in the same room as that asshole.” Actually, as Jamie would say—that’s an insult to assholes. Assholes are actually pretty amazing.
“He’s not—he’s really a nice man underneath…all that,” she says quietly. “And he treats me so well.”
“Oh my god, just stop!” I practically shout. “Stop making excuses for him! Stop defending a man who thinks your own son is sub-human.”
Her confused expression just makes me even more frustrated, although I know that’s not entirely fair considering I’ve been hiding my true self from her for a long time. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the fact that I’m gay!” I throw my hands in the air in exasperation. “So maybe you can see why it’s a bit difficult for me to just look past ‘all that’,” I say, using air quotes. “But honestly, Mom, the fact that you can look past it…” I let out a heavy sigh, shaking my head in disappointment. “It’s just pathetic.”
Having said everything I needed to say, I turn and start toward my car. “Merry Christmas,” I mutter.
“Jake. Jake, wait—” Mom calls in a small, desperate voice. “I…You’re not eighteen yet. I could withdraw the affidavit. I could have Shay removed as your guardian.”
I spin around, my eyes flashing dangerously. I can tell by her expression it’s not a legitimate threat, but that does nothing to quell my anger. “Try it and I’ll get myself emancipated.” It’s not like I haven’t already looked into that; it was my plan prior to Shay taking me in. “You owe me,” I tell her, my tone softening somewhat. “Nine years I’ve put up with that asshole. You owe me this.”
Finally, she nods, seeming to just crumple in on herself. “Okay.”
“If you ever want to see me you can come to New York—but don’t even think about bringing him with you.”
She nods again and I move toward my car again. “Don’t I at least get a hug?” Mom asks, offering a shaky smile.
I let out a soft sigh and step forward to wrap my arms around her thin frame. Despite everything, she’s still my mom and I love her; I just can’t see what kind of place she could have in my life as long as she’s tied to Trevor.
Thank god for Shay and Jamie…
14
Heath
* * *
“Are you ready for your Christmas present, babe?” I ask Dec as I stalk across the living room to join him on the sofa. I push Bucky’s head away so I can sit on Declan’s lap, straddling his waist.
Declan offers a sexy smirk, his arms coming up to palm my ass. “If it’s more sex I might need to fuel up first. This morning kind of sapped all my energy.”
I roll my hips against him, letting out a soft hum as our bodies connect. I thread my fingers through his hair and lean down to brush my lips over his jaw. “No, not more sex,” I murmur. “You’ll need all your strength for this afternoon with my family.”
Dec chuckles. “Well if we’re not going to fuck I’m going to need you to get off me ‘cause my dick’s not getting the message.”
Reluctantly, I climb off Declan’s lap and stalk over to the tree that’s taking up half our living room. I crouch down and retrieve the small, wrapped gift I sneaked under there last night.
I return to Declan and hand him the gift, leaning down to brush a kiss against his lightly stubbled cheek. “Merry Christmas, babe.”
With a smile, he tears open the wrapping to reveal a framed picture of a gorgeous Brooklyn brownstone. I mean, it’s maybe not as impressive as Blake and Owen’s mansion but it’s still beautiful.
“What is this?” Dec asks, his brows furrowed in confusion as he studies the picture.
“It’s a house,” I tell him, barely able to contain my excitement. “Our house.”
His eyes widen in shock. “Heath, are you kidding? You bought us a house?”
“Well…technically I haven’t bought it yet. I thought you might want to see it first.”
“Yeah, you thought right,” he mutters at the photo, his expression formed into a tight frown. “Where is this place anyway?”
“Brooklyn. It’s actually only a few blocks from the clinic.”
“But a house?” he asks, still clearly confused. “What even brought this on?”
I shrug. “Ever since Aidan mentioned the other day how he and Ben will probably look for something bigger once they start a family, I haven’t been able to get the idea out of my mind. I started looking around, just to see what’s out there and then I found this one…and it’s perfect. I went to see it yesterday and, let me tell you, the inside is just as impressive as the outside.”
Declan blinks at me. “You went to see it already?”
“Well…yeah. I wanted to make sure it wasn’t hideous.”
“Heath…we’re about to have a baby…”
I narrow my eyes. “Why do I get the feeling you’re not a hundred percent on board with this house thing?”
“Probably because I’m not a hundred percent on board with this house thing,” Dec says, his voice getting oddly high pitched. “We’re about to have a baby. We spent three months on the nursery. You changed your mind about the color scheme three times! Do you know how long it took to paint over those eggplant walls?” He waves his hands around in clear frustration. “They were eggplant, Heath! Eggplant!”
I let out a heavy sigh. “Okay, I’m going to be in the bedroom when you decide to stop being ridiculous.”
As I walk toward our room, I hear Declan calling after me, “Since when am I the ridiculous one in this relationship?”
I grab my Kindle from my nightstand and relax back on the bed. But I’ve only managed to read a couple pages when Dec appears in the bedroom doorway, a contrite expression on his face. “I’m sorry. I was being an ass.” He comes toward the bed and I move over a little so he can sit down. Looking deep into my eyes, he says, “I really appreciate the thought. And I love that you’re thinking about our future. I’m just worried this might be too much for us right now.”
I send him a beseeching look. “Will you at least come and look at the place?” I know as soon as he sees it he’ll fall completely in love and that’ll be that.
Dec lets out a heavy sigh. “I’ll think about it.”
* * *
“Have you picked names yet?” My mom asks as we dig into the Chinese food later in the day.
“If they have they’re not telling,” Lila grumbles. “They’re like Fort Knox when it comes to that info.”
And the reason for that is because we still haven’t settled on anything. Considering how easily Declan and I have always clicked, you’d think deciding baby names would be relatively easy. But no. It seems everything I like, he hates. And everything he likes sounds as though it belongs in a Young Adult book. I mean, is Farrow even a name?
“Well, how about Donald?” Mom suggests, reaching over to rub my dad’s shoulder. “If it’s a boy, of course.”
“Um…that would be a firm no,” I say.
“What? I thought it would be nice to name him for your father, especially considering you gave up the family name. Not that I disapprove of you doing that.”
“That’s a nice idea…in theory,” Dec says carefully. “But we can’t name our son that. Sorry, Don.”
Dad shakes his head, shoving a forkful of Szechuan beef into his mouth. “You’ll get no argument from me.”
“Well, whatever you decide for the name, just make sure you call us the second the baby’s born, okay?” Mom insists.
“Of course we will,” I assure her. “I promise, even before they get all the goopy stuff off, we’ll have you on the phone.”
Mom’s mouth turns into a slight frown. “Well, you can let them clea
n the poor thing first, Heath. But don’t dally with letting me know what the sex is. If it’s a boy we’ll need to move quickly on the bris.” She shakes her head. “This time of year, and with you two living so far away…the logistics will be a nightmare.”
I exchange a glance with Declan, whose features have formed into a wide-eyed, panicked expression.
“Uh, Mom…let me save you some worry—there won’t be a bris.”
Mom looks aghast. “Heath David, are you telling me my grandson won’t be circumcised?”
“Okay, well, first of all—you might not even have a grandson,” I point out. “But, yeah, if it’s a boy he won’t be getting circumcised.”
“But, Heath—”
“Mom, calm down. This isn’t about religion…although, the fact that Dec’s Catholic does come into a tiny bit. But mainly it’s a personal choice.”
“What kind of personal choice?” Mom presses.
“Well…” I glance around, from my sister, to my mom, to my dad, and finally to Dec. With a sigh I decide to just blurt it out. “Declan loves when I play with his foreskin and I don’t want to deprive my son of that pleasure!”
My mom’s mouth falls open in shock. Across the table, I see my dad with an egg roll paused midway toward his mouth. He glances at it for a second and then returns it to the box it came from.
“Thanks for not waiting until after we’ve eaten to share that information,” Lila deadpans.
15
Aidan
* * *
“And this is my unicorn. And this is my Barbie doll. And this is my Elsa backpack. And this is my coloring book…”
I follow Ben’s three-year-old niece, Katie, around as she points out all her presents. “Wow, these are amazing. You must have been really good this year for Santa to leave you all this cool stuff.”