Tonight, I’m the one driving Tony insane, and I slow down every time he digs his fingernails into my back. It’d be easy to make this a quick fuck, but that’s not what I want from him tonight. It’s not what I want to give him tonight.
“You like that?” I tease, knowing damn well he’s about to blow his load, if the pulsing muscles in his ass and his twitching cock are any indication.
“Fuck yeah, need you harder,” he begs. I lean back on my heels, pulling Tony’s ass off the bed. “Dom, I’m gonna come. Please, baby, come with me.”
My balls snug against my body with every deep thrust, the sound of skin slapping skin driving my need for him. I come with a guttural moan, filling the condom as my dick pulses inside of him. Tony’s climax shoots between our bodies, coating both of us in the sticky release.
My entire body spasms so hard that it’s impossible to hold my weight over Tony and I collapse on top of him. “Damn, I needed that,” I groan, rolling to the side.
“Well I’m glad one of us feels better,” Tony chuckles. He pushes me off his body, rolling so his arm is draped over my chest. I roll to my side so I’m looking directly into his eyes.
“You didn’t enjoy yourself?” I ask. Now, my mind is getting away from me and I’m worried that he let me top him because he didn’t want to upset me.
“Oh, you were fucking amazing. But it’ll be a miracle if I’m not walking funny tomorrow morning.” Tony bites his way down my jaw to my neck. My body stirs to life again, but I’m too tired to do anything about it.
We lie in the darkness staring into one another’s eyes as we talk until our heavy eyelids refuse to stay open a moment longer. I have no clue what’ll happen when the sun rises, but for this moment, I have faith that everything will be okay.
Christmas has always been my favorite holiday. My dad may have a heart of stone, but I think I was about fifteen the first time I thought of Mom’s as made of ice. And every year, it seemed to thaw for a bit on Christmas morning when all of the kids would rush to the living room to rifle through our stockings. By that point, we were well past the point of believing in Santa, but the concept of the jolly man lived on when we’d see my mother ease her frigid ways.
This year, I don’t give a shit what awaits me in the faded green stocking hanging from the mantle over my parents’ fireplace. The only gift I need is nestled into my side with his head on my chest. In one week, he’s opened my eyes to what I’m doing to myself and those I claim to love by being such a fucking coward and I’m determined to rectify that by the time we’re back in this bed tonight.
I pick up my phone to check the time. Only eight-thirty and I already have a text from my mother asking what time I’ll be over. As much as I want to, I can’t stay cooped up in this room all day; I have gifts to open and parents to piss off. Such is the life of the black sheep…
Looking down at my morning wood, it’s tempting to roll Dom onto his stomach and give him a proper good morning, but knowing us, that’d either lead to me being late, me saying something stupid, or all of the above. Instead, I ease my way out from under his death grip on my waist, cradling his head so it doesn’t slam onto the bed.
“Where’re you going?” Dom mumbles, reaching over to pull me back to him.
“Baby, I have to go. My mom’s already on my ass for not being there first thing this morning.” I look over my shoulder and see Dom’s pouty lips laying on a guilt trip. “I’m going to ride with Cara and Andrew if they’re still here. That way, I can beg off when they do and meet you over at the Rossi’s.”
Dom sits up, draping his arms over my shoulders, kissing me deeply. I grip the back of his neck, holding his face to mine, wishing there was a way we wouldn’t have to be apart. “Baby, I really have to go,” I mumble, my lips still pressed to his.
“I know,” he sighs and breaks the kiss, running his hands down to mine. “Don’t do anything stupid today, okay?”
There’s no need for Dom to clarify what stupidity he’s asking me to avoid. Last night, I tried talking to him about coming out to my family today, but he shut my ass down every time I tried to bring it up. He actually tried to convince me that it’s the worst thing I could possibly do, but I don’t want to tell them over the phone and I’m not sure when I’ll be back up this way.
“Have you met me?” I ask incredulously. “Stupid is my best friend. That shit follows me around like a stray puppy.” I plant one last quick kiss on his lips, pulling the blankets over his body as he settles in to go back to sleep.
“Just…try, okay? For me?” he begs, already falling back to sleep.
“I will. For you,” I assure him.
My nose is assaulted by artificial pine the moment I open the front door of my childhood home. I can already hear my nieces and nephews fighting over toys in the living room while the men in the family hide in the den, oblivious to what’s going on around them. Rather than brave either of those groups, I make my way into the kitchen, the sickening fake smell giving way to scent of ham baking in the oven. I close my eyes, trying to recall good memories with my family so they won’t all realize I’m so freaked out that I’m tempted to bail. I still think this is the way I have to do this, but that doesn’t make it any easier.
“Anthony, you made it!” My mother animatedly makes her way to me, arms thrown wide. I hug her stiffly, wishing I was still young enough to be unaware of her forced affection. “Where’s Kennedy?” she asks, looking past me for the non-existent girlfriend. I’m fairly certain I could have sent Kennedy in my place and it would have been perfectly fine by my mother. Just once, it’d be nice if she didn’t think I’m missing something in my life by not have a woman by my side because that’s never going to happen. The sooner she gets used to it, the sooner we can all move on.
“She’s with her family today,” I inform my mom, wondering for a moment how Kennedy is holding up. This is the first time we’ve agreed to do a family holiday without the other, both needing to grow up and face who we are. She’s not in any hurry to open the closet door to give her family a peek inside, but that’s because she lives here. She sees them often enough that it’s not necessary for her to fuck up a day meant for celebration.
“Oh,” my mother huffs, turning her attention back to basting the ham. “Are the two of you having problems?”
I watch as, one-by-one, my brothers’ wives sneak out of the kitchen, not wanting any part of what’s about to go down. If they only knew how big this explosion is going to be.
All too soon, there’s no one else in the kitchen to buffer my mother’s meddlesome ire. “Honestly, Anthony, I don’t know how you didn’t see this coming. A girl like Kennedy isn’t going to be happy with your hot-and-cold act. I can’t say I’m surprised that she’s starting to pull away from you. She’s old enough that she’s going to want a good man in her life, a ring on her finger, a house to call home and a few kids running around making messes. You could be that man, but not if you keep pushing her away like this.”
I snort at the absurdity of her statement. Mom’s one-for-four on this round. The only aspiration she’s listed that could remotely fit Kennedy is a home of her own, but even then I see her fitting into an industrial loft more than a house with white picket fence.
“That’s your problem, Anthony. You’re incapable of taking life seriously,” she chastises, not giving me a chance to say a single word. I lean against the counter, cracking my neck to keep from letting my temper get the best of me. “You were could have done great things, but then you had to give in to your immature whims. I was willing to turn my back then, to give you time to figure out what mattered in life, but it’s quite apparent to me that you have no interest in growing up.”
I clench and release my fists, trying to get some tension relief before I dignify her with a response. It’s funny; the day she chooses to admonish my lack of direction in life is the same one that’s brought me crystal clarity. I no longer have a hole, waiting for the missing piece to fall into place. It’s seriou
sly like a line out of a cheesy romantic comedy; Dom not only completes me, but at least for now, he seems willing to put up with me. And when I get back to my sister’s, I know exactly what I’m going to do to turn for now into forever.
“Mom, I have grown up. You’re upset because the life I want isn’t the life you want for me,” I protest, sliding out of her way when she comes toward me with a hot casserole dish. “You and Dad both knew that I didn’t want to go to business school, but I did anyway, just to make you happy. The problem is I was miserable.
“And for the record, Kennedy and I were never a couple.” My mother gasps, the serving platter that she just pulled out of the cupboard shattering on the granite floor.
“Now you’re just being spiteful,” she seethes. Cara rushes in to see what’s going on and gives me a concerned look as she pulls the broom out of the cleaning closet. I shake my head, letting her know that the worst is still to come.
On the way over here, I warned Cara and Andrew that I plan to come out to my family today. Like Dom, they tried to talk me out of it because it’ll ruin what should be a happy day. Besides the fact that nothing in our house is ever as happy as it seems on the surface, this is one time I have to stand up for myself. It’s time that they know what I have since I was fourteen.
“Mom, I’ll take care of that. Why don’t you sit for a minute?” Cara offers, pouring a hefty glass of pinot noir even though it’s barely noon. She hands it to our mother and then pours one for herself before grabbing the broom again.
“Cara, your brother can clean up that mess. He caused it, so there’s no point in your fixing it.” Cara kisses my mother’s cheek then gives me a quick hug before making a hasty retreat.
“I still think this is a bad idea,” she whispers.
“I know, but I can’t keep on like this forever, right?” She flashes a sad smile as she walks to the den to let the guys know what happened.
After pulling a beer out of the fridge, I sit across the table from my mother. I wonder if she’s always looked so tired. There’s nothing obvious, but the more I study her features, the more I can see deep lines and dark circles hidden by carefully applied makeup. And that light that used to shine in her eyes on Christmas is absent.
“Mom, I’m not trying to be spiteful, I’m telling you the truth. Kennedy and I have been best friends since high school, but never anything more,” I say, reaching for a handful of chips that are going uneaten because no one will brave entering the warzone for munchies.
“What about the nights she’d sneak into your bedroom when you thought we were sleeping?” Mom asks, sitting a bit straighter with a smug expression on her face. Okay, so I didn’t realize my parents knew about that, but it doesn’t change the facts.
“She’d come over to sleep. That’s it. Her parents fought a lot for a while and she couldn’t stand being there,” I admit to her. “But you have to let go of this idea of Kennedy and I settling down at some point because it’s not going to happen. She’s in a committed relationship and I hope to find the same at some point.”
My mother stares out the window, transfixed by something in the postage-stamp sized backyard. It’s snowing again, which makes me think about sitting on the couch with Dom last night listening to him tell me about his life with Brandon. A decade or more from now, I hope that it’s me he’s thinking about when he calls up such memories, but we’ll be lying together reminiscing about these first days together.
“I’m not sure what to say to you, Anthony,” my mother sighs. Her entire body is now turned away as if repulsed by me. If she feels that way now, I can’t wait until the next bombshell drops. “You’ve lied to us for so long, I just don’t know what to do.”
My mother does something I’m not sure she’s done in my entire life. She walks away from me with her shoulders slumped in defeat. I’m left alone at the table, wondering if things would have stood a chance of a different outcome had I not used Kennedy for so long; if I’d been the man I should have been all along. My phone buzzes in my pants pocket. I pull it out and see a new text message from Dom.
Headed to Gus and Mama’s. Don’t get in trouble today. Thanks for this morning.
Mom calls the women in to help her set the table for dinner. They all work around me, avoiding any eye contact. Already, I feel like a pariah. Rather than deal with their condescending glares and whispered gossip, I head out to the living room and sit on the floor with the kids. Right about now, I’m pretty sure it’s the only place I’m welcome.
“Faggot!” my eldest nephew, Aaron yells to one of the other kids.
“Aaron, you don’t say things like that,” I scold him. For a solid minute, I struggle to catch my breath, not believing that a nine year old even knows such a hateful word. I’m not sure why it surprises me after some of the things I’ve overheard kids say, but I can’t imagine my brother and his wife allowing that language out of their child. “Do you even know what that means?”
Bile rises in my throat as Aaron comes over to sit on my lap. He leans in close, as if he’s about to share a secret he’s not supposed to. One little finger crooks, begging me to lower my head to his mouth. “Daddy said it when he saw two boys kissing at the mall. I don’t think he knows I heard him. And Bobby is a faggot, he just kissed Paulie on the lips.”
This is my worst nightmare come to life. Not only is my oldest brother, the one I looked up to as a child, a raging bigot, but he doesn’t bother to censor his hate around his only son. Rather than jump to correct my nephew, I wrap my arms around him, offering up a silent prayer that he won’t grow up to be like his father.
“Aaron, Bobby kissed Paulie because they’re brothers. It doesn’t mean anything.” He looks at me with deep brown eyes narrowed in disbelief. “Your daddy used to kiss me when we were little, but we don’t anymore.”
“You did?” he asks, those innocent eyes of his growing wide. I nod, waiting to see if he’ll say anything else. “But what about boys who aren’t brothers? Are they faggots?”
Every time this little boy says that word, it’s like a knife twisting deep into my heart. I want to burst out in tears, but I have to stay strong lest I give the family any more ammunition. “No, buddy. That’s a word you shouldn’t say about anyone. It’s mean and it hurts people.” Like me. “Some boys like girls and some boys like boys. There’s nothing wrong with it because something as good as love can’t be wrong.”
“Anthony Orlando DeLuca, what filth are you filling that poor child’s head with?” My father’s booming voice causes both Aaron and me to jump. I turn to see him looming directly behind us, aware of everything I’ve just said. Aaron rushes to hide behind my back. I can’t blame the kid because not once in my life have I seen such a terrifying glare on my father’s face. He looks ready to beat the piss out of someone and it only takes one guess to know who that someone is.
Unwilling to give him the perceived upper-hand, I stand so I’m standing chest to chest with my father. “It’s not filth, father, it’s the truth,” I hiss, puffing my chest out to challenge him. “The one you should be criticizing is Marco for passing such beliefs on to his child. If he says something like that to the wrong person, he’ll be beaten to a pulp.”
My fucking throat is closing and it’s hard to breathe. I’ve gone rounds with my father before, but this feels different. It’s the first time I’ve truly feared my father’s physical size.
“Yeah, as if some prissy fag-boy would be able to beat my grandson,” he chortles. Out of the corner of my eye, I see my sister-in-law, Amy, herding the kids out of the room. The rest of the adults are crammed into the doorway, only Andrew and Cara moving a step beyond.
“Is that what you believe, old man?” I yell, moving a step closer to him so our chests are touching. Right now, I’m seriously tempted to knock my father on his ass. “You think someone’s sexual orientation dictates how strong they are and whether or not they’re willing and able to stand up to bullies?”
“Tony, stop,” Cara pleads. When
she tries to come to my side, Andrew pulls her back. I offer him a grateful glance before turning my attention back to my father.
“The next time you choose to make a comment like that, you’d best be ready for me to show you just how wrong you are,” I warn him. It’d be comical, the way everyone gasps in unison, if this wasn’t so disgusting.
“And just what does that mean, boy?” My father digs his fingers into my arm, not allowing me to back away from him before this turns into a brawl. That’s when Andrew steps in between us, providing a much needed buffer.
“Guys, that’s enough.” Andrew turns so he’s facing me. My father’s face is red and the vein in his forehead is throbbing so furiously I start to worry that the old man is going to kick over right here on my mother’s pretty Persian rug. “Tony, why don’t you take off? Head over to my folks’ if you want and we’ll be there later. Okay?”
“That’s ridiculous,” my mother protests. “Why would Anthony spend Christmas day with your family rather than his own? He and Robert just need to cool off for a while. There’s no point ruining a family holiday over something so petty.”
Figuring there’s no time like the present, I push past Andrew and my father. I kiss Cara on the cheek before doing the same to my mother. “Mom, Andrew’s right. It’s time for me to be around people who will love me for who I am and that won’t happen here. Dad and Marco have both made it abundantly clear that this house is not a place where that’ll ever happen.”
I suck in one final deep breathe before pulling the pin. “Gus and Mama both know who I am and love me for it. And right now, they’re entertaining my boyfriend while I sit here and listen to this poison.”
“GET OUT!” my father yells, charging at me. “You get out of my house this minute and don’t come back until you’re past this depraved phase of yours.”
There isn’t a second to react before I’m lying on the floor, my lip bloody. The room erupts into screaming women and crying children as my brothers work to pull my father off of me. He gets in four blows before Peter is able to jerk my father to the other side of the room. As tempting as it is to charge at him, to take one blow for his five, I take Andrew’s proffered hand and allow him to hoist me off the floor. If I touch my old man, I have no doubt he’ll call the cops and I don’t want that. I just want to get out of here before I say something in front of the entire family that I can’t take back.
Dance With Destiny Page 15