Larry stands on his hind legs, puts his paw on Kane’s knee, and eats the carrot with gusto. Larry starts to get pushy, climbing up into Kane’s lap, and I rescue him.
“All right, you all need to get down.” I take the pot roast and lure them to the shed. I’m freezing and Kane is shivering. “Go on. I’ll get these guys settled down.”
When I join everyone inside, Jared is beside himself. “I’m hungry! You feed the damn animals but make me starve?”
“God, kid. You’re melodramatic,” Garrett says.
Jared opens his mouth, but I interrupt him. “There’s frozen pizza for dinner. You can figure out how to work a stove.”
“Frozen pizza? Me cook?”
“Yes, you cook. I’ve got a Thanksgiving spread to put on tomorrow. I think you can handle frozen pizza.”
“Come on, baby-child. I’ll help you.” Miss Beulah drags Jared into the kitchen.
“Anybody want a drink?” I ask.
“I’ll be sober a year in two months,” Garrett says. “So I’m good.”
“Oh, okay, well then, I guess not.” Now I really want a drink.
“I’ll have a whiskey, if you’ve got it,” Kane says.
“I’ve got a good Kentucky bourbon? A friend of mine made it.”
“Sounds good to me.” Kane pats Garrett’s hand. The shrug Garrett gives him is like it doesn’t bother him in the least.
“Well, all right then,” I say. Kane follows me into the living room to the sideboard with the booze. My grandfather’s cut-glass decanters sparkle in the firelight, the amber liquid inside a beautiful hue, and I remember Grandpa sipping his whiskey in the evenings in his chair beside the fireplace. Kane glances around the room as I turn over two lowball glasses. “Not much of a Scotch drinker, but this whiskey is something I enjoy occasionally. Ice?”
“I’ll take it neat.”
This guy’s starting to grow on me. I hand him the glass and wait for him to take a sip. He smiles his approval. A hum from Kane’s throat follows his hand rubbing his chest. “Nice.”
“With what I had to put up with to make this shit happen, it should be nice.”
Kane smiles. “You have a great house, Jackson.”
“Just call me Jacks. My grandfather built it himself. Things he couldn’t do were few and far between. He did hire folks to come drill the well, but that’s about it, having witched it himself. He built houses for a living. Moved up here from Southern California, but originally he was from down South, sorta all over the place.”
“He witched it?” Kane asks. He wanders to the fireplace. I can hear Garrett and Irus arguing in the kitchen. There’s laughter in the mix too, so I’m not worried. Kane doesn’t even bat an eye.
“Divined it, you know? Water witched to find the deepest well. Old folk’s type shit.”
“Can I ask you something?”
I look at him, nervous about what his question might be, but I cave. “Sure, what do you want to know?”
“Irus is in love with you. How do you feel about him?”
Fuck me running. Guy doesn’t pull any punches, does he? “Um, did he tell you he loves me?”
“He’s been in love with you since the day he first laid eyes on you. Can’t have a conversation with him anymore. The last two years have been all about you.”
This isn’t what I want to hear. “Wow, you know how to put a guy on the spot.”
I take a taste of my whiskey. The burn makes me wince. “It does warm the belly,” I say.
“It’s so smooth,” Kane says with a smile.
“Glad you think so,” I say, taking another drink. The liquor makes me cough. Just not a true drinker, I guess. “The still’s out back through the woods.”
“You make your own whiskey. Nice.”
“I’m a man who believes in self-sufficiency. Actually, it is my buddy’s recipe. Just thought I’d give it a shot. As a gift for this Christmas. I bought the oak barrels used from a reputable distillery. They only use them once and then sell them off.”
“You do realize it’s not real Kentucky bourbon?”
“It’s an experiment. I’ve had all the materials shipped up from friends in Kentucky. It’ll do for my buddy, Ryan. He was wounded in combat and can’t get around right now. My Christmas gift to him.”
“So you like projects?”
“I like to stay busy. Even if it’s just a hike in the woods. I like to be close to nature. At least you know what you’re getting into with wildlife. They turn on you out of fear or hunger. With folks, it’s less certain.”
Kane takes another sip. He appears thoughtful. Outside the big picture window, the snow falls gently. Kane watches the big flakes float to the ground.
“So, you and Irus, huh?” Shit. Smooth Jackson, real fucking smooth.
A small smile flits into view; then it’s gone. Kane looks at me funny. “When we were sixteen. A lot of years have passed.”
“You’re still friends.”
“Family. We’re family. Miss Beulah adopted me—not legally, but it counts in my book.”
“Bert’s a great guy. Gonna take a little getting used to him as a woman.”
“Really?”
“No, not really. I guess.”
“What happened to you back then?” Kane asks.
“I’d rather not talk about it,” I say. With a bit of revenge, I point to the scar on his throat. “And you?”
“I’d rather not talk about it,” he says.
We fall silent. Neither of us feeling too comfortable. At least I’m not. More like trout plucked from the stream, flopping on the bank. Any minute I’m gonna get a club to the head. God, could it please happen soon?
“I mean, if you’re not gonna share, why should I?” Kane glances around the room and takes another drink.
I feel bad for being a dick.
“It’s not—you’re right, I don’t want to share, but I can’t, either. There’s an ongoing investigation involving Jared and myself.”
“So, they’re gonna get the guy?”
“No. Well, they say they are, but I’ll believe it when I see it. The bastard’s got a shit ton of money.”
“And power?”
I drink my bourbon, thinking of the power Paul has over me, even to this day. I’m terrified to stand up and say what happened so long ago. The world will think I’m gay because of him, and honestly I don’t know if it’s true or not. The memories of the way I dreamed about I-reese when I was young drift through my thoughts. How’d I not make the connection between Irus and I-reese sooner? A lot of years have passed. At some point, I’d tucked the dark boy with the thousand-watt smile away. Miss Beulah made it all come flooding back, whether I wanted to remember it or not. I had blissfully let details fade. The pain. The terror. I didn’t even know a man could do what Paul did to me. Until he did it and left me destroyed.
Carefully, I packed up Bert’s jersey that night, just the way Grandpa taught me, with mothballs in a secure box. I never looked at it again.
Paul got away with what he’d done to me because of who he was back then, and what’s to say it won’t happen again? The cops were reluctant to arrest their beloved high school football coach. The whole thing makes me sick. All those kids who could have been in my place.
The cops refused to act on the word of a child and, to be honest, a black man. A man without the language and poise of a “well-bred” white man. Well, it didn’t stop Bert from kicking the shit out of Paul after the cops left and taking me home. Bert made me call my mother, but I just spoke to the answering machine. In the morning, Bert took me home, but for one night I got to snuggle next to Irus. He was warm and safe. A sweet boy who innocently held me all night. The thoughts I had about him weren’t innocent. I wasn’t innocent anymore. Or so I thought—I had no clue there was still more innocence to lose.
My mother was in the hospital at the time. When Bert took me home, he wanted to come inside to talk to my mother, but I was a savvy latchkey kid. I told him my mother
was shopping and sent him on his way. He didn’t look happy, but he left because he had to get his nephew on a plane home.
I sat for a long time in Bert’s jersey before I could get up the courage to take a bath. When I got out, I pulled the jersey back on, like Big Bert could still protect me. Paul was waiting in the living room. Mom had given him a key while she was hospitalized. The anger in his eyes terrified me. Convinced I was going to die, I wished I had when he was done with me.
“Yeah, he had power.” There’s a real possibility all this will blow back on me. If I tell the truth. “Still does, I suppose.”
In the silence, Kane passes his glass to me for a refill. I’m happy for something to do with myself.
“I had some pretty bad facial fractures. I couldn’t breathe. Garrett performed a tracheostomy. The reason for the scar on my throat,” Kane confides to me as I fill his drink.
“Car accident?”
“Gay bashing.”
Not meeting his eyes, I hand him the glass. The beating I took in the locker room flashes in a staccato sequence through my mind. I focus on Kane. Christ, it must’ve been bad. So much worse than what happened to me. “Sorry.”
“You didn’t do it,” he says.
“I mean—”
“I got Garrett out of the deal. Along with a niece and nephew who are adorable. Everything’s okay now.” He laughs. “And I’m working as a real dancer. Not shaking my thang for oversexed steroid jocks or some old perv.”
“Is it really okay?”
“No, but it’s better. Been a year now. Noises in the apartment don’t bother me as much, and only when I’m alone.”
“They forced their way into your home?”
“At one point. A long story short, one of the guys stalked me, but I survived.”
The look in Kane’s eyes tells me it took a long time to survive. I feel like an ass. “I can’t take a shower.”
What the fuck? Internal face palm.
Kane smiles sympathetically. “Can’t be close to anyone, either—only for sex?” he asks.
“How’d you—”
“You know, it feels like you’re the only one until you admit the truth, and the blinders are taken away. For me, it was my father. The man the state handed me back to when I was a child. Reality opens your eyes, and the realization that you’re not the only one. That’s when the sadness sets in—”
“Hey, hey, hey! No sadness,” Irus says, rushing into the room. He scoops Kane into his arms and gives him a sloppy kiss on the neck.
“Why the fuck do you guys have to pick me up all the damn time?” The smaller man’s laughter makes me smile. Kane bats at Irus’s forearm hard, not holding back. Irus grins. The sound of the thwacks echoes in the room.
Garrett runs in and steals Kane from Irus’s arms. “I don’t think so. Get one of your own.”
Irus grins at me. I’m terrified he’ll run over and do the same thing, but he just winks. I can handle a wink. Since discovering Irus’s aunt is Bert Beaumont, memories crash around in my head, and the idea of being physically handled at the moment makes me ill. Gently, I set down my glass, afraid the sound might draw the others’ attention.
What am I afraid of?
Irus? Or facing the truth about back then, with Paul? I don’t want to give the deposition, but Maddox hounds me almost daily. I hound him back about Paul getting arrested. He says my deposition will facilitate Paul’s arrest. That’s not what they said a month ago, and it pisses me off.
Jared squawks from the kitchen, but it’s only laughter. Bert’s booming voice reverberates through the house. Sounds like Jared’s having fun making pizza. All right, so I lied about frozen pizza. It’s actually pizza dough I made and threw into the freezer. The idea of the kid having to figure out how to make pizza gives me a warm, fuzzy, evil feeling inside. Besides, I think homemade pizza is fun.
Garrett flops on the sofa and pulls Kane down to his lap. Both men snuggle together, Garrett with his lips in Kane’s ear, probably whispering something sweet, and the look of contentment on them makes my chest tight. Irus watches them. A peculiar look settles on his dark face. This isn’t an expression I can nail down. Unsure if it’s desire or jealousy, but the intensity in his nearly black eyes makes me uncomfortable. I have to turn away. The burn in my chest threatens to reveal true emotions I can’t afford to let surface. I’m not ready to face the tide of affection I feel for Irus or the instinctive rot of envy in my gut. Kane and Irus love each other. Where would that ever leave me? In a place I’m familiar with, like Terry Branson’s whore on the side, a second fiddle to Terry’s wife, Emma. This is why just fucking is easier than a relationship. I hate these feelings. The covetousness makes me weak. My desire for Irus is tangible. But love?
The fire has burned down to a nice bed of coals. I stoke it up and toss two big logs onto the grate. The fire catches quickly. The crackle of the burning wood fills the room and soothes my nerves. The fire pops loudly. Garrett jerks his head up. Kane pats Garrett’s thigh. I barely catch Kane’s words, only the sound of a soothing murmur.
“Sorry,” I say. “It’s all I have for heat. Are you cold? Do you want a blanket?”
“Don’t be giving them a blanket. They’ll just make out under it,” Irus says with a wicked grin.
“We got a pie!” Miss Beulah hollers from the kitchen.
Kane pushes off Garrett’s lap. “I want pepperoni!”
Garrett makes a grab for Kane’s arm, attempting to pull him back so he can get ahead, but Kane does a graceful spin move, outmaneuvering the big man.
“Maybe Kane should’ve played football,” I say to Irus.
“Lord, I tried, but he figured he was way too short. All he was interested in was gay shit, like dancing, and how good the uniforms looked on the players.” Irus laughs. “Go figure.”
“You say stupid shit like that to get a rise out of him, don’t you?”
“Yep.” Irus heads into the kitchen, a smirk firmly in place on his beautiful face.
At the sideboard, I finish another finger of whiskey. I should slow down. I’m a bit of a lightweight when it comes to alcohol. The reason I don’t drink. The last thing I need to do is make a fool of myself in front of Irus’s family.
Garrett’s voice rises above the din, busting Irus’s balls for something, and I arrive in time to see Irus picking up a slice of overturned pizza off the floor. The sauce and cheese a splatter pattern on the travertine tile.
“You realize this floor is new, Beaumont? I just remodeled,” I say.
He slants a wicked look my way. “Ah, boy, don’t you be busting my chops too.”
“You should be used to it by now. I bust up your coverage all the time.” In the fridge, I grab a beer, some microbrew Irus brought over the other night. Garrett gives the dark bottle in my hand a hungry look. Instead, I trade it for an OJ and a piece of steaming pepperoni pizza, folding the slice to make it easier to eat.
“Ha! See, Irus! Your boyfriend ain’t even a New Yorker, and he knows how to eat pizza,” Kane says with smug satisfaction.
“I spent most of my time in Arkansas and Louisiana,” Irus points out and takes another shot at eating a slice of pie.
“So, why’d you bounce around so much?” I ask.
“Oooh, I-reese could get hisself into all kinds of mayhem. Always knew more ’an them teachers and didn’t mince no words ’bout it, neither. Did you, boy?” Beulah/Bert pipes up.
Man, I gotta figure this shit out in my head. Bert or Beulah?
“Auntie Linda smoothed most things over,” Irus mutters.
“Shit yeah, if it all weren’t for Linda ’n Clyde, ya’d be in a whole mess trouble. See, Irus would get hisself kicked out fer knowin’ more ’n the school. Sometimes, he’d not be botherin’ even to show up.”
Irus slumps and stuffs his piehole with…well, pizza.
Kane takes up the story. “Irus would get kicked out of school and go live with different family members. In the summers, he was sent up for Beulah to
knock around a bit. Work him out on the football fields and make him fix up the tenements she’d buy and renovate.”
“Lord, child thought he was done smarter than all them educated folk,” Miss Beulah says.
“I didn’t think— All right, I did think I was smarter. I proved it, didn’t I? Top of my class in high school and college. Just bored was all. Plus I got to visit the family. I loved jumping from one of you all to the other.”
“Where were your parents again?” I ask.
“Oh, my little brother, he’s a wild one. Thinks he’s a regular Bob Marley. Owns a marijuana farm in Jamaica? Is that were he’s at now, I-reese?”
The grin on Irus’s face means this is light-hearted banter. “Auntie, he’s part owner of a resort hotel.” Irus looks at me. “He does all right. My mom is a doctor. They had me young. The family took to raising me so they could continue with college. It’s all good.”
Irus’s smile is an infectious disease. The smile may be terminal. Just when I think I’m coming down with the symptoms, reality creeps back into my head. Thoughts of Paul, the deposition, Jared, and my memories of Irus and Bert fall like random meteors, punching craters into my serenity. Just when I thought I could deal with life too.
“So, what kind of shot do you guys have at the championship?” Garrett asks.
Irus sits up straighter. “Oh boy, we got a good shot. We come back from the bye strong, don’t lose any more than two, three games tops, and we’re in as a wild card. Don’t lose any more games—”
“Second in your division, I know all that. I want to know what you think’ll happen?” Garrett presses.
“We’re all healthy. Jacks is on fire. We gotta a chance to go all the way,” Irus says seriously.
“Will you?”
“Shit yeah, you know? We’ll make this happen, won’t we, Jacks?” The infectious smile, so bright it’s blinding in its brilliance. Right now, in this moment, I don’t think I could deny him anything.
“Shit-fuck!” Jared says as he nearly drops his phone.
“Mouth, boy,” Irus reminds him sternly.
For once, Jared doesn’t have a smarmy reply, and it worries me. “What is it?” I ask, reaching for his phone. He tries to palm the device, but I snatch it from him.
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