by Avon Gale
Riley blushed hotly, which made Ethan want to climb on top of him and kiss him. But that might fuck up his tattoo, and his sister would be pissed. So he just sat in the chair and watched her tattoo his boyfriend. He felt pretty goddamned pleased with life in general.
“She just guessed,” Ethan told Riley later, when they headed out into the cold afternoon. It was sunny but freezing, which didn’t seem fair. “About us, I mean. I guess ’cause I brought you home for Christmas.” Ethan started laughing. “Man. I should’ve known that was a dead giveaway. Guess everyone’s right when they say I’ve been knocked in the head a few too many times.”
Riley was very quiet, which made Ethan nervous. “You okay?” He bumped Riley’s shoulder with his own. “I mean, it’s okay they know. Right?”
“Yeah. Of course.” Riley gave him a sideways glance. “Just because I’m quiet doesn’t mean something’s wrong. Okay?”
“Okay.” Ethan took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. It wasn’t smoking, but it was close. Actually no. It sucked, and he wanted a goddamn cigarette. “You’ve been to New York before. Right?”
Riley nodded. “Yeah. Why?”
“’Cause if you don’t want me to smoke, I need something else in my mouth.” Ethan grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the subway. “Fuck sightseeing. I have a better idea.”
They were watching television when his mother came home. She smiled at them both and ruffled Ethan’s hair—there wasn’t much there to ruffle—and then did the same to Riley.
“You boys have a nice day?” Maura asked as she walked into the kitchen.
“Got some tattoos,” Ethan said. He wandered into the kitchen. It was as good a time as any to come clean about Riley. And he was kind of hungry. “Ma, we got any snacks? I’m starving.”
“You’ve been home all afternoon and you didn’t eat anything?” She gave him a suspicious look.
“Snacks are better when you make them.” Ethan hugged her exuberantly and lifted her off her feet.
“Oh, so now I have to make them too?” She made a noise and glared at him. It made her look like Britt. “Son, put me down before I kick you somewhere uncomfortable.”
“You like that,” Ethan reminded her as he set her on her feet. “Making me snacks, not kicking me,” he clarified quickly. “Like how you like doing my laundry and stuff.”
“What I like is my son having clean clothes,” she said and hit him on the side of the head. “And what is it? You know you let me do mom stuff when you have to tell me something I might not like.”
“What? No I don’t.” Ethan totally did that, dammit. “I’m hungry. I’m a growing boy, Ma.”
“Stop growing, or I won’t have anywhere for you to sleep.” She waved him out of the small kitchen. “I’ll make you some apples and peanut butter.”
“Sweet. Make some for Riley too.”
“Ethan—”
“Shh, Riley. It’s fine. I don’t mind making you a snack. You’re so polite. Maybe some of it will rub off on my son.” His mom expertly sliced an apple and smiled sweetly at Ethan. “Honey, are you blushing?”
“Ah—so, Ma. I was gonna—umm.” He cleared his throat. “Remember when I was in eighth grade and I told you I was gonna marry Deirdre Hudson?”
“Yes. And I told you to wait a few years, because teenage marriages never work.”
“Right.” Ethan grabbed for a piece of apple, and his mom swatted his hand. “I’m probably not going to marry her.”
“Oh? I’m glad to hear that, since I saw her aunt the other day at mass, and she’s going to Africa with the Peace Corps. I don’t think they have hockey there.” His mom didn’t look up from the apple. “Get me the peanut butter, sweetie.”
Ethan found the peanut butter in the pantry, opened it, and handed it to her. “Well, I just meant that I probably won’t get married. Soon. To a girl. I mean. I probably won’t get married soon, anyway. But—”
“Riley, honey, do you like apples and peanut butter, or can I fix you something else while my son tries to tell me you’re dating?”
“Ma,” Ethan groaned and covered his face with his hands.
“Sweetheart, I’m your mother. And you haven’t been able to hide anything from me your whole life.” She looked up and smiled at him gently, in a way that made his throat burn a little and his eyes sting. “He’s a very nice boy. You’re a very nice boy, Riley.”
“Thanks,” Riley said. “And yeah. I like apples and peanut butter.”
“So, umm. You’re not upset?” Ethan took an apple slice and ate it before his mom could stop him. He had good reflexes, even if they didn’t always translate best on the ice.
“Upset? Of course not. I’ll miss you, of course, when you’re in hell for committing a sin against nature and I’m in heaven singing in the choir.”
Ethan stared at her, mouth open in shock.
Her mouth twitched, and she started giggling. “Your face right now, Ethan.”
“That was mean, Ma,” he groused. He heard Riley laughing from the living room.
“It was funny, though.” Her eyes teared up. “Oh, Ethan. My little boy—all grown up.”
“Ma, shhh,” Ethan said. He tried to give her an apple slice. “Here. Have one of these and stop talking.”
She hugged him instead and then grabbed the plate of apples and peanut butter and took it to the couch, where she also hugged Riley. “What a relief to know my hotheaded son has someone taking care of him down there in Florida,” she said. Riley’s face was the color of the apple.
Served him right—being all respectable and easily liked by moms.
Riley hugged her back, and there was something on his face that made Ethan angry. Not at him, but on his behalf. Like Riley wasn’t used to hugs. That made Ethan want to hit something.
Kelsey came home an hour later, when they were all watching Wheel of Fortune and Ethan and his mom were shouting at the players, berating them for not solving the puzzle.
“Hey, Kels,” Ethan called, waving from his spot on the couch. “How was school?”
“You know. Last day before Christmas break. Sorry. Winter break. I don’t know why they call it that. It’s a Catholic school.”
“They’re trying to be accepting, honey. Are you hungry? I can fix you a snack if you want. Maybe some apples and peanut butter?”
“I know Ethan and Riley are dating, Mom. It’s cool.”
“Hey.” Ethan glared at his mother. “That’s my trick. No fair. Get your own.”
“Who do you think you learned it from?” His mom winked, and then looked up at Kelsey with a smile. “Your sister should be here in about an hour, kiddo. So we better get ready to go to dinner.” His mom stood up and took the empty plate to the kitchen.
“So,” Ethan said when his mom and sister were gone. He shifted on the couch so his head was in Riley’s lap. “Now they know.”
“Yeah. Now they know.” Riley rubbed his fingers over Ethan’s mouth, and Ethan bit at them, gently, and sucked on them until Riley’s dark eyes flashed, and some of his serene, unholy calm started to crack around the edges. “This is really weird.”
“You like it when I do this, though. You said it felt like I was sucking your—”
“No. Not that,” Riley said hurriedly, even though they were alone in the living room. “I mean, they’re so… they don’t even seem to care.”
Ethan shrugged. “They love me and shit. They’re glad I’m happy. Fuck. I want to beat up your entire family.” He glanced up at Riley. “They don’t even deserve you, you know.”
Riley stared at him. “How do you just say that stuff?”
“What do you mean? How do I just say shit without thinking about it? I dunno. I just do. It’s not that hard. Just try it sometime.”
“Okay,” Riley said, and then he said, “I love you.”
They stared at each other while the contestant on the show picked out letters for the final round. The iconic music played, which made them grin at each other. “See?�
� Ethan said. He reached up to grab Riley’s shirt, and his heart raced a million miles an hour. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Riley looked very serious. “Yeah, actually. It kind of was.”
“Oh.” Ethan pulled him closer. “Keep doing it. You’ll get used to it. I love you too.” He kissed him, soft and sweet, and then they both went back to watching the show.
“Problem solved,” Riley said.
“What?” Ethan blinked up at him, confused. “What’s a problem? Being in love with me? You should have stopped at the first—mmph.”
Riley gently put his hand over Ethan’s mouth. “That’s the answer,” he said, nodding toward the television. “To the puzzle on Wheel of Fortune. The show we’re watching right now? The answer is problem solved.” He took his hand away, and Ethan noticed it was shaking a little. His was too.
“I knew that,” Ethan said and smiled. Riley smiled back in a way that made Ethan feel like he’d won the game show. Like he’d won all the game shows. He wondered if this was how Sierra felt on The Price is Right with the dice game. Riley was better than a Mustang, though. Riley was better than anything.
Ethan pulled Riley down to kiss him again, before he actually said that out loud. “I’m probably not a very hard problem to solve, anyway.”
“That’s what you think,” Riley said and kissed him back.
Chapter Fourteen
CHRISTMAS MORNING started off pretty great.
Ethan had gotten Riley a jersey from Martin Brodeur’s junior hockey team back in Canada—the St. Hyacinthe Laser. Riley was so excited, he kissed Ethan in front of his entire family, and they all smiled and pretended they hadn’t noticed how both boys turned bright red afterward.
Riley got Ethan a pair of tickets for the New York Rangers versus the New Jersey Devils game the next day, which was the night before they had to leave to go back to Jacksonville. They were glass seats, which made Ethan squeak. Then he kissed Riley in front of his family—a little more exuberantly—enough that his mom cleared her throat and Britt threatened to film them on her phone and put it on YouTube.
Then his mom opened Riley’s gift, which was an envelope that read simply “The Kennedy Family” and had a red bow affixed to it. In it was a simple note, explaining that Riley would like to make his family’s jet available in the spring, as well as a suite at the Ponte Vedre Inn in Jacksonville, at some dates that worked best for the Kennedy family—so they could come and see Ethan play. Riley also noted that he was going to reserve the suite during the week of the Kelly Cup Finals, because he intended to make sure that the Sea Storm would be playing in them.
She looked confused and then said they couldn’t accept such an elaborate gift. Ethan interrupted and said, in a tighter voice than he meant it to be, “It’s all right, Ma. Riley’s family is loaded.”
His mother hugged Riley, and so did his sisters, while Ethan sulked into the kitchen to do the dishes. He wasn’t mad. He wasn’t. Except he was, and he shouldn’t be. Fuck it. He just wished he could do that for his family! And maybe he could have, if he didn’t smoke and buy his boyfriend expensive presents. Great. Now he’d ruined Christmas. Why couldn’t he just thank Riley and let it the fuck go?
His mom came into the kitchen while Ethan was scrubbing the pancake griddle.
“I think Riley’s upset,” she said. “And so is that pan. What did it do to you besides provide you with a delicious breakfast?”
“Sorry,” Ethan snapped and slammed it down. “Sorry I’m not perfect. Okay? And I’m not—whatever,” he muttered in a snit, and he grabbed his pack of cigarettes and went out onto the fire escape—just like he used to do when he was a petulant teenager who lived at home.
His mom came out a few seconds later, wrapped in a coat. “Give me one of those,” she said, holding her hand out.
Ethan stared at her, shocked. “Huh? What? No. You’re my mom. You can’t smoke.”
She rolled her eyes. “Ethan Patrick Kennedy, what have I told you about pretending I’m a saint?”
“That we’re Catholic and we have enough of them?”
“Exactly. Now give me one.”
Ethan gave her one and lit it for her, because he was in a mood, but he was still a gentleman.
“Ethan, I have to tell you something, and you’re not going to like it.” His mom took a drag of her cigarette and gave him a stern look. “I’ll understand if you want to yell at me. But remember, it’s Christmas.”
“Ma,” he said, embarrassed, and ducked his head. He sighed. “What is it?”
“Your father paid for your hockey equipment.”
“What?” Ethan stared at her. “My who?”
“Your father. You do have one.” His mom exhaled again, and she did so with such ease that it was clear it wasn’t the first time she’d smoked. Ethan was suddenly curious about his mother and the life she lived before meeting his father. Had it been a happy one? Seeing her as a person instead of his mom was weird… but cool too. “I couldn’t afford it, Ethan. And it was so good for you, honey. It gave you—it made you happy, and I wasn’t going to let that be taken away from you because we didn’t have the money.”
Ethan swallowed hard past the sudden lump in his throat. “You shouldn’t have done that. I know you didn’t want anything to do with him. It wasn’t worth it.”
“Ethan,” she said, her voice choked up. Ethan didn’t think he’d ever seen his mother cry before, but he was pretty sure he was going to. “Sweetheart, I’ve never told you this before because I never…. It’s not that I don’t want you to know. It’s just that I haven’t found a time where it made sense to get into all of this. But I think this is a good time.” She leaned her head against his shoulder, briefly, and rubbed his back before continuing.
“He hit me, Ethan. It was the first time, I’ll say that much, but the thing is, honey, I come from a long line of women where the first time is never, ever the last time. Because no matter what a man does to you, it’s not as bad as being alone raising three kids.” She exhaled and looked up at the smoke as it rose toward the gray, December sky. “He used to say that all the time. In case I might forget.”
Ethan suddenly wanted to be on the ice in the middle of some heated rivalry game where he could skate up to some other guy and punch him in the face. Except no. He didn’t want that at all. He wanted to go up to his pitiful excuse for a father and punch him in the face. The fact that his mother took anything from that bastard after he left, especially for Ethan, made him so mad he couldn’t breathe.
His mom started rubbing his back again, like she did when he was upset or sick as a kid. “Honey, I know. Listen to me, before you say anything. Your father hit me, and I fell on the floor. And you, my little fierce Ethan, you immediately came in the room to see what was wrong. And I was lying there on the floor with my hand on my face, and you said, ‘Mama, are you okay? Is everything okay?’
“And your father looked right at me and said, “Maura, tell the boy everything is okay.” And I almost did it, Ethan. I almost told you to go back to your room. To go check on your sisters. Something. But I thought about every woman in my family who’d told that lie, and how it wasn’t okay and it never would be. And I thought—” His mother started crying, but angrily dashed at the tears and kept talking. “I thought, ‘If I say it’s all right, then he’ll believe me. And what have I taught him? That his mother is weak, that she’s afraid?’ Your father hit me because he was weak. Because he was afraid. So I didn’t let him bully me. I fought back—just like I knew I wanted you to fight back. Or your sisters.”
Ethan stared hard at his hand, his tattooed knuckles clenched tight around the cigarette, and let her finish her story.
“So I stood up, and I said, ‘No. It’s not okay, Ethan.’ And then I told him to get the hell out of my house and leave me and my kids alone. And do you know what he did? He laughed and he said, ‘What are you going to do, Maura? You can’t do anything but have babies. Who’s going to take care of you and the kids?�
�� And you—” She laughed, even though her voice was thick with tears. “—you kicked him in the knee and said, ‘I will. Go away.’ And do you know why you did that?”
“Because my mom’s a badass?”
“Language,” she said, hitting him lightly on the arm. “But yes. You did it because I fought back. And I fought back, Ethan, because of you. You saved my life, and if you think I wouldn’t do whatever I could to save yours, you don’t know your own goddamn mother.”
Ethan looked at his mother for a long moment and took in her narrowed eyes and her chin tilted in defiance. It was like looking in a mirror.
All he said was “Language, Ma.” He reached out, pulled her closer, and buried his face in her shoulder. “I still wish you didn’t have to take his money.”
“Oh, Ethan,” his mother said, voice choked. “You’re as stubborn as I am. Don’t you understand that you mean more to me than anything? I can’t be ashamed of asking him for money, because I’m too proud of what it helped you to accomplish.” She pulled away, wiped her eyes, and leaned in to kiss his forehead. “Now do you know why I told you that story?”
Ethan did, but he mumbled something and stared at his shoes instead of owning up to it.
“Nice try. I told you because that boy in there, Ethan? He doesn’t feel sorry for you. He loves you, and he wants to do something to make you happy. Because of what you did for him.”
“I’m not this great of a person,” Ethan informed her, blushing hotly. “I’m really not.”
“You are. Don’t you say such a thing.” His mom leaned her head against his shoulder. “And stop smoking. I brought you into this world, and it was not so you could suck poison into your lungs to hurry your way out of it.” She turned her face up to look at him. He wondered how he’d never noticed they had the same eyes. “Now don’t you think there’s something you need to say to someone?”