Ends of the Earth: Gay Romance

by Keira Andrews

“But he was there, and he didn’t say goodbye. What if I never get to see him again? Don’t you want to see him?”

  Memories of Ben’s smile and low laughter echoed, the sensation of his rough stubble on Jason’s skin, the caress of lips and hands. A tangle of contradiction suffocated Jason. One minute he was firm—he didn’t need anyone to take care of him. Yet in the next breath, he longed for the strength of Ben’s arms. Ben had seen Jason with every defense stripped away and wanted him nonetheless.

  Maggie asked, “Do you still like him?”

  Jason’s heart clenched as his brain answered clearly: I love him. Digging his fingers into the futon, he got out, “Uh-huh.”

  Do I love him?

  “Don’t you want to see him? Why are you scared?”

  Jason didn’t have a good answer. “I don’t know.”

  She sprang to her feet. “I think you’re being dumb.”

  “Maggie! Don’t talk to me like that.” Even if you’re right.

  “I’m going to play with Max.”

  “What? No. I don’t want you going out.”

  She huffed. “It’s not out. He lives right downstairs. I want to see him. I want to play.”

  Jason opened his mouth to argue, but snapped it shut. Having her out of his sight for more than a few minutes made him squirmy, but it was good that she wanted to play with her friend and do normal things. He’d be back at work soon to pay the mounting bills, and he couldn’t bring her with him. He had to deal with the reality that he couldn’t watch her every minute and that Maggie didn’t want him to.

  He stood. “Okay. Let’s get dressed and I’ll walk you down and say hi to Mrs. Lane.”

  Still in pajamas, Max’s mother greeted Maggie with a big hug, her curly dark hair hanging loose over her shoulders. Jason stood stiffly as she hugged him next, the kids already breathlessly planning what kind of fort to build.

  He tried to smile. “Hi, Christy. You’re sure it’s okay for Maggie to invade?”

  Christy grinned. “Are you kidding? She’ll keep Max and Madison entertained for hours with her imagination, even though Madison barely understands.” Her smile faded. “How are you holding up?”

  “Fine. I’m great.”

  Eyebrow popping dubiously, Christy said, “Look, I know we’ve never really talked about anything but the weather or the kids, but I’m here if you need an ear. I know you went through hell.”

  Jason’s throat tightened. “Yeah. Thanks.” Christy was right that they’d never talked about anything serious, although she’d invited him to have drinks with her and her husband or dinner with the family more than once. He’d always said no. What had he been afraid of?

  That they’d see I wasn’t good enough, that I could barely manage, that I’m a bad father.

  He said, “Can you call me to come get her when she’s ready? I know it’s only one floor and I’m being paranoid, but…”

  Christy squeezed his arm. “I get it. I’ll walk her up.”

  Jason’s cell buzzed in his pocket, his childhood phone number appearing on the screen, instantly recognizable. “Thanks, Christy. I have to…”

  She waved him off, and he took the stairs two at a time back to his apartment. Inside, he wanted nothing more than to close the curtains, go back to bed, and not have to think about anything at all.

  The phone buzzed again in his hand, and he almost dropped it. His mother had always done that—called twice before leaving a message. He could let this one go unanswered as well. Could pretend that nothing had changed and go years again without acknowledging his family, could stay in control and make everything normal.

  Taking a deep breath, Jason swiped the screen, jumping off the ledge. “Hello?”

  He pulled up to a red light, asking himself for the hundredth time if he was nuts for agreeing to dinner at his parents’ house. But his mom had been so eager on the phone, and considering they were paying for Maggie to see a therapist, dinner was a reasonable request.

  The radio played a noisy pop hit, and he turned down the volume, glancing at Maggie in the back seat. “How do you feel about tonight?”

  In the rearview, Maggie shrugged. “Fine.”

  She’d avoided him most of the day and he’d let her, but it was time to deal with it. “Come on, that’s not a real answer.”

  She rolled her eyes, but after a few moments, said, “Why do they even want us to come? I thought they hated us.”

  “Maggie. We talked about this. They don’t hate us at all. I thought you understood what happened when you were a baby? They just thought you’d be better off if they raised you.”

  “Because they’re stupid.”

  “Hey! No name-calling. They thought they knew best, and they were stubborn.”

  “They were wrong.”

  “Yes. They were, and they realize that now.” He wanted to believe them—wanted so badly to trust them, but he wasn’t sure he could. Not completely. Not after they got lawyers and a judge involved to try and take his baby away.

  But he’d try.

  For the first time since he was a teenager, he drove the streets of his old neighborhood. Some houses looked the same, and he made the turns from memory, barely glancing at the signs. The tennis court that had been weirdly squeezed in the front of Carson Whitmer’s house was gone, replaced by a stretch of lush lawn and sculpted flowerbeds.

  The man-made bump of a hill in the park had seemed huge when he was a kid. He and Tim had tobogganed on it, and now it looked ridiculously tiny. Had it always been so small?

  Jason’s stomach tightened as he turned onto his old street, twilight descending. He turned left into the driveway and parked behind a gleaming black SUV that was a massive vehicle for people who rarely left the city. At least they hadn’t driven many back roads while he was growing up.

  “Is this it?” Maggie asked, ducking her head to peer up. “It’s a mansion.”

  Jason killed the engine and took in the house. Two long stories in a Tudor design—beige brick, brown wooden slats on white walls—with a double car garage. Perfectly designed flowerbeds curved along the flagstone walkway, and the lawn stretched out quite a ways before the next house.

  “Yeah. I guess it is. I never thought of it like that.”

  “You really lived here?”

  He realized all over again how much he’d taken for granted. “I did. It was just my house. It was normal.”

  The door had been painted red at some point, a pop of color amid the earth tones. Then that door opened, and a young man stepped out.

  “Who’s that?” Maggie asked.

  It took Jason a few frozen heartbeats to realize it was his brother. He spoke hoarsely. “That’s your Uncle Tim.”

  “Seriously? I thought he was way younger than you.”

  “He is. Seven years. He’s eighteen now.” Jason had seen Tim’s pictures on Instagram, so it shouldn’t have been such a surprise, but somehow it was as Tim filled the doorway, his jeans and button-up shirt tight on a toned, lanky body. His sandy hair was curlier than Jason’s, and it was cropped short aside from a couple inches on top.

  “Are we going in?”

  For a moment, Jason wanted to turn the key, throw the rusty old Chevy in reverse, and not look back. But he took a deep breath, and the panic eased. “We are.”

  Maggie clung to his hand as they walked to the door. Tim waited, an unreadable expression on his face. He nodded to Jason. “Hey.”

  “Hey. Um, this is Maggie.”

  “Yeah, I figured.” His face softened as he offered her his hand. “Hi, Maggie. Nice to meet you again.”

  She glanced at Jason before shaking Tim’s hand. “You too.” She fidgeted with the collar of her favorite purple sundress.

  “Oh, you’re here! We didn’t hear the car.” Robert appeared, his dress shirt sharply pressed and cufflinks shining. Jason was glad he’d worn his best slacks and button-up shirt, although he’d rebelliously considered sweatpants and flip-flops. His father said, “Your mother’s just putt
ing the finishing touches on some carrot roulades and caramelized onion tartlets. Come in, come in.”

  Robert ushered them inside and awkwardly shook Jason’s hand and patted Maggie’s shoulder. He rubbed his palms together. “What can I get you? Maggie, we squeezed some fresh juice for you. Do you like juice?”

  She looked to Jason before nodding mutely.

  “Great!” Robert said too loudly. “Jason, are you a beer man? Wine? Spirits?”

  In the surrealness of his father offering him a drink, Jason realized he hadn’t brought a bottle of wine, which was what grown-ups did when they went to someone’s house for dinner. “Uh, whatever you’re having. Beer, I guess?”

  “Beer it is. Stella okay?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Tim stood nearby, and Jason ached to pull him into a hug. But he didn’t know how to make that happen, so he followed his father into the sitting room, where his mother soon appeared with trays of appetizers, including macaroni and cheese bites, clearly geared for Maggie’s taste buds. Shelly wore a knee-length floral dress, her golden hair done up in a fancy swirl.

  After uncomfortable chitchat about the weather, the Phillies, and Maggie’s favorite subjects at school, they moved into the dining room. The beef and roasted potatoes filled Jason’s nose, a hint of rosemary bringing back bittersweet memories.

  Shelly passed a china dish to Jason. “Your favorite kind of potatoes. Remember? The rosemary and sage are growing so well in the garden this year.”

  Nodding, Jason spooned a bit of everything onto Maggie’s plate. His mother sat at the head of the table to the left beyond Maggie, Tim across from them, and Robert at the other end to the right. The chandelier over the table was different than Jason remembered, sleeker and more modern in a horizontal design.

  They ate quietly for a few minutes, everyone complimenting the food a little too zealously, even though it really was delicious. Maggie picked at her plate, eating little bites. Jason had always tried his best to make her a variety of food with lots of vegetables, but rarely anything as fancy as this. The tenderloin was wrapped with a strip of perfectly crisp bacon.

  His mother sliced neatly into her meat. “So, Jason. Do you have a girlfriend?”

  Ugh. Just the conversation he wanted to have. “No. I haven’t had time to date.”

  “Oh.” Her smile was strained. “No girls your age at the, uh, factory?” She said factory the way she would dirty sock while pinching it between two fingers and asking whose it was.

  “No.” Jason chewed a brussels sprout and tried to decide if he should just tell them and get it over with. What was the point of all this if he wasn’t going to tell them who he really was?

  Before he could say anything, Maggie spoke, her eyes flinty. “Why should he only want to date girls? Maybe he likes boys. There’s nothing wrong with boys liking other boys, you know.”

  In the silence following Maggie’s declaration, his parents blinked, then Tim laughed triumphantly. “I knew it.”

  Perhaps Jason should have been angry with Maggie for outing him, but he exhaled in relief. At least it was in the open. He smiled at her as his father said, “Oh.”

  His mother still held her knife and fork above her plate. “Well. We—”

  “Think it’s wrong? Disgusting? A sin?” Jason finished for her, tapping his foot restlessly. He should just take Maggie and go. This had been a mistake.

  “No.” His mother frowned, her sculpted brows drawn close. “May I please finish my sentence?” After a moment of silence, she said, “When you were in high school, your father and I questioned whether you were gay, but then everything happened and we assumed you weren’t. No, we don’t think it’s wrong, or disgusting, or a sin.”

  His father added, “The Breslins’ boy is homosexual. Captain of the rowing team at Yale. He just graduated, actually. We could introduce you.”

  Jason swallowed a burst of hysterical laughter. He had to be dreaming. Things were actually going all right with his family. “Uh, thanks, but that’s okay.” He glanced at Tim. “You knew?”

  Shoveling a forkful of food into his mouth, Tim shrugged. “I figured probably. Dunno why. Just something, I guess. It’s not like I care. It’s cool.”

  Shelly sighed. “Please don’t talk with your mouth full.” To Jason, she said, “So, are there any boys you’re interested in? Stephen Breslin really is handsome, you know.”

  “No! He’s going to be with Ben. Not anyone else.” Maggie glared, as if daring anyone to argue, including Jason.

  “Ben?” Shelly smiled encouragingly. “Who’s this Ben?”

  “Ben Hettler,” Maggie answered. “He’s a park ranger, and he’s smart and funny, and he saved me.”

  Jason’s parents blinked and shared a glance. His mother said, “That…man?”

  Robert added, “He’s a fair bit older than you, isn’t he?”

  Jason gritted his teeth, all the old resentment surging. “I’m a man too. Yes, Ben’s older, but I’m not a teenager. A lot has changed in the last eight years, and you don’t get to sit there judging me. You don’t get to tell me who I should date.” He tossed his napkin on his plate. “This was a bad idea. We should go.”

  “Just like that?” Tim scoffed. “Of course. Run away again. That’s what you do.”

  “What?” Jason scoffed back, self-righteous indignation straightening his spine. “That’s not true.”

  “Sure,” Tim bit out. “Did you run away from this Ben dude too? I bet you did.”

  He wanted to scream, “I did not!” but snapped his jaw shut. He breathed shallowly, guilt stinging with every inhalation. He couldn’t think about Ben. Not now.

  He had to deal with this first. It was long overdue.

  After another long breath, he said, “Maggie, come with me.” He pushed his chair back.

  “Are you really going to leave?” his father asked incredulously.

  “Of course he is.” Tim crossed his arms, jaw tight.

  Maggie looked at him with wide eyes, and Jason tried to smile reassuringly at her. He kept his tone even. “I’m just going to take Maggie into the den. Mags, you can watch TV while you finish your dinner, okay?”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Okay. Let’s just take your plate and milk in case you change your mind. We’re going to talk in here. We won’t be too long.”

  “But I want to stay!”

  He used his “that’s enough, young lady” tone. “Maggie. Please do as you’re told.”

  Huffing, she carried her glass and napkin as Jason took her plate and utensils and led her out of the dining room and down the hall to the den. The TV was bigger than he remembered, and the wraparound couch was velvety leather, a change from the suede he and Tim had scuffed up.

  The art was the same, brass rubbings from churches in England on black backgrounds, Arthurian soldiers with swords and pious ladies in long, flowing gowns. He was struck by a memory of curling up with his father on the suede couch, Dad telling him stories of knights and maidens.

  “Dad?”

  “Uh-huh.” He shook himself and settled Maggie on the couch with a lap tray, flicking on the TV and starting an episode of a David Attenborough nature show on Netflix. As chimpanzees hooted and climbed trees, Jason kissed Maggie’s head. “I’ll be back soon. I need to talk some stuff out with them.”

  She nodded. “Okay. I won’t eavesdrop. Even though I really want to.”

  He had to laugh, a tiny bit of the pressure in his chest easing. “Thank you. You’re a good girl. I love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  He closed the door to the den behind him. In the dining room, he found his family still sitting where he’d left them, tension simmering in the air and food untouched. He took his seat, Tim glaring at his plate across the table.

  Jason said, “I can imagine it must have seemed that way to you—that I ran away.”

  His mother exhaled sharply. “Oh no. No, it didn’t just seem that way, Jason.” Tears shimmered in her ey
es. “You just left! Ran away! We woke up, and you and Maggie were simply gone. Do you have any idea how frightening that was? No note. Nothing! You drained your bank account, and that was it. You were gone. We didn’t know if you were alive or dead.”

  Jason snorted. “Don’t be so melodramatic.”

  “I’m not.” She swiped at her eyes. “It’s terrifying, not knowing where your child is. Not knowing if they’re safe. You should understand that now, especially after what happened in Montana.”

  His stomach clenched. “It’s not the same thing.”

  “Night after night, we laid awake, praying you were all right.” She gulped from her wine glass, red liquid sloshing. “I kept imagining all the unspeakable things that could happen. By the time we tracked you down, we were frantic.”

  His father spoke up. “We were afraid, Jason. We were afraid for you and that sweet baby. You were making rash decisions, and even though you’d turned eighteen, we didn’t think you were old enough to be a responsible parent. So yes, then we pursued legal action because we didn’t feel you left us any choice.”

  “No. No, don’t turn this around on me. You were already talking about taking Maggie away.” He glared at his mother. “I heard you. On the phone. ‘We’d have to have Jason declared an unfit father,’ you said.”

  She opened and closed her mouth. “But that was just discussion. We wanted to know the options. We were frustrated. Angry. We were wrong, and we realize that. At the time, we truly thought it was best for you and Maggie if we had custody. But we had no intention of actually taking you to court. It was the last thing we wanted.”

  “But it’s exactly what happened,” Tim said. He looked from their parents to Jason and back again. “How did you all let this get so fucked up?”

  “Timothy.”

  Tim barked out a laugh. “What, Mom? ‘Language?’ I think we’re all fucking old enough to handle it. So come on, let’s get it all out. You guys screwed up. Big time. And Jay shouldn’t have run away without at least calling to say he and Maggie were okay.” To Jason, he added, “That really sucked, man. You didn’t even call me. I get why you were pissed at them. But what did I do?”

  “You didn’t do anything, I swear.” Jason hated the pain etched on his brother’s face.