I vow to write him an email as soon as I get the chance, explaining everything and asking him to meet with me.
"Dinner's ready!" Jensen announces, from the kitchen.
"Looks like we'll have to pick this conversation back up later," Riley says, as we begin walking out of the bathroom.
I don't see the use, when Larson's still not here. But I remember to be grateful, on Thanksgiving.
"I think you've gotten your point across," I tell her. "And I appreciate it. Really."
"Time to eat!" Caleb says, rushing up to me and taking my hand. "Gobble gobble!"
I look down at my little guy, who's so excited to start the holiday season that it's contagious.
"Yes it is!" I tell him. "We're going to gobble till we wobble."
"Gobble gobble, wobble wobble," he says, wobbling like he's going to fall over as we make our way to the dining room table.
"Happy Thanksgiving everyone," Jensen says, as we gather around the table. "We Bradford Brothers wanted to cook a nice meal to thank our ladies for everything you do for us."
"Awww," I coo, along with Riley, Whitney and Monica.
"And you too, Brynn, Blaze and Cassidy," Riley chimes in. "You're always welcome here of course. You're all like part of our family and welcome any time."
Blaze is there with a friend of Whitney’s whom I’ve never met.
"Thank you. This looks delicious," I say to Jensen. "Everything looks perfect."
I look at the stuffed turkey, expensive wine and Caleb's beaming smile and I am truly grateful.
There's only one thing that could make it more perfect, I think, but that's not going to happen.
And then I hear the sound of an engine pulling up and cutting off.
"Mo-to-cycle!" Caleb announces. "Larson! Larson!"
I want to tell him not to get his hopes up. I want to tell myself that same thing. But before I get the chance, Larson's at the front door.
He's holding flowers, and he looks better than I even remember.
Suddenly this really is the best Thanksgiving ever. And all I want to do is eat this meal with Larson and then serve myself to him as dessert.
Chapter 38 – Larson
I'd imagined that Brynn would be happy to see me. I'd gathered that from her billion fucking phone calls. But the way her entire face lights up, the way her body arches at me as I walk through the door— that's fucking icing on the cake.
"Hello everyone," I say, as Caleb runs up to me and hugs my legs. "Hello little man."
I pick him up and swing him around.
"Sorry I'm a little late. Had to stop and get something. A couple somethings, actually."
I hand Caleb the motorcycle toy I’d found for him at a specialty shop online. You could order any kind of rider or riders that you wanted, and for him I’d ordered a man and a little boy to represent him and me.
“Thank you Larson!” he cries, squealing in delight in my arms. “Vroom vroom! Vroom vroom!”
Then I carry him over to his mom and hand her the flowers I’d brought as well.
"These are for you."
"Thank you," Brynn says, getting up from the table and hugging me. "Thank you so much."
"This is a nice reunion and all, but can we start eating yet?" Harlow asks, with a grin on his face.
"I propose a toast," his wife Whitney says. "To a great Thanksgiving for everyone. And a sickening sweet reunion for Brynn and Larson."
"And me!" Caleb pipes in.
"And Caleb," Whitney adds, winking at him.
"To Brynn and Larson and Caleb," Jensen says, holding up his wine glass and nodding in my direction. "And to all of us. Happy Thanksgiving."
"Happy Thanksgiving!" everyone says, including me. We all clink our wine glasses together, except for the kids, who have plastic cups full of apple juice. Caleb holds his up, pretending to be one of us.
Jensen is still smiling. I can tell he's proud of me for deciding to come. It certainly wasn't an easy decision, but it was definitely time to stop moping around and make a fucking move already.
Sure, Brynn had fucking done me wrong in New York, there's no way around that fact. But she'd been working hard to try to make it up to me, and I decided I should at least hear her out.
"So how's it going working at the Albuquerque firm?" Whitney asks Riley, as we all dig in to our turkey and stuffing entrée and sides.
"It's okay," she says, looking at me and then back down at her plate.
I can tell she just wants to jump my bones. And the feeling is definitely fucking mutual.
"Just new and challenging."
"I can imagine," Whitney says. "That's great that they wanted you to head up the new branch. And it makes sense, since this is where you're from and all."
"Yeah, I'm truly glad to be back."
Brynn hesitates, as if not knowing how much to say next.
"But it's all a bit chaotic, going back and forth to New York. It'll take some getting used to. I feel like I'm hopping all around like a rabbit with my ears cut off, to butcher a popular phrase."
"Little bunny foo foo," Caleb announces, and then he looks in my direction. "Hopping through the forest…"
He makes his hand into a hopping bunny, doing motions along with his little song, just like at story time.
"Good job, Buddy," I tell him. "You're great at that song. Miss Bonnie would be impressed."
I can't believe how much he's grown up in only the few weeks since I've seen him. His words are clearer and he's singing full sentences.
I guess everyone always says that kids grow up fast.
I wouldn't know.
A knot forms in my stomach and I feel a mixture of emotions twisting me up inside.
Everyone, including Brynn, is staring at me with blank looks on their faces, not really understanding what I'm talking about.
"Oh, they sang that song at story time when I took him," I explain. "There was a whole rabbit theme going on."
"Ha," Jensen laughs, nearly spitting out the bite of green beans he had just taken. "You at story time. Now that's rich."
"That explains why everything time he says Larson, he says 'hop hop,'" Brynn says, nodding her head. "I was wondering. I thought maybe you guys played hopscotch in the park or something."
Everyone laughs. But suddenly Caleb points to the window and says, “Mommy! Clown! Scary!”
What the hell?
“Caleb, honey, what do you see?” Brynn asks.
I run to the window and look out, but I don’t see any fucking clown. Which is good for the clown’s sake.
“There’s nothing out here… anymore,” I say.
“Maybe he imagined it?” asks Whitney.
“We can only hope,” Jensen says.
Brynn’s face is crinkled with worry and she’s slightly shaking her head.
“Did you mention to Caleb anything about…” Riley begins asking Brynn, but it’s obvious she doesn’t want to mention the word ‘clown.’ “…about what happened that night?” she finishes.
“No, nothing at all,” Brynn says, shaking her head more adamantly now. “He’s very perceptive, but he was asleep the whole time, right?”
Whitney nods her head. “Yeah, he didn’t even make a peep.”
“And it’s not like him to make stuff up,” Brynn says. “Like all kids, he can sometimes have an over active imagination but he’s more real about it than most kids his age. He understands play versus reality.”
Caleb is still peering at the window, looking confused, so I decide to ask him.
“What did you see, Buddy?”
“A clown,” he says. “At window.”
“What did it look like?” I prod.
He purses his lips, thinking about it.
“White face with black eyes. Purple hair. With pink! Blue. Yellow!”
I look at Brynn nervously. The clowns that had been terrorizing the city in October had a more gothic look than most Halloween clowns. More black and white, less colorful faces. But their
wigs featured a vibrant, beautiful array of colors.
“That does seem incredibly coincidental, that Caleb would make up seeing a clown that happens to look just like… the ones from that night,” I say, not wanting to say anything too scary.
But I’m pissed that some here didn’t give the boy enough credit. He’s a smart kid, like Brynn said, and he knows what he sees and doesn’t see at the fucking window.
I head outside and jump on my bike. Once my engine is sufficiently revved I ride around several blocks, looking for any sign of the peeping clown. There isn’t a clown in sight, but I don’t doubt that Caleb saw one.
I stop by Billy’s on my way back. Since it’s Thanksgiving, it’s full of the normal cast of misfits, who are watching football on TV or crying into their beers if they’ve had one too many. There are some fellow club members playing pool and we nod hello to each other as I walk up to the bar.
Chad, the owner, hands me a whiskey and coke, since he knows it’s my favorite.
“Happy Turkey Day,” he says.
One might expect him to ask me what brings me to this particular dive bar—or any— on Thanksgiving day. But I’m regularly here, even on holidays. This place is more like my home— and its people more my family— than anyone else except for the Desert Dogs, who have made it our home base. If it weren’t for Brynn and Caleb, this is where I would have spent both Halloween and Thanksgiving.
“Thanks, Chad. You see any clowns around here lately?”
I take a sip of the drink even though I didn’t come to drink. I know that Chad and these guys know everything about this town. We ride around protecting it and the people who live here. We see who goes and comes and what they’re up to.
Yet we silently live among them. They’re largely unaware of us or see us more of a danger or nuisance than a help. But it doesn’t matter what they think of us. We know what we do and why, and that’s all that matters to us.
“Nah,” Chad shakes his head. “They haven’t done much major damage since they were terrorizing people on Halloween. Including you guys. But I think once you roughed them up, that taught them to behave. Or maybe it was just a Halloween prank.”
“Maybe.”
I down the rest of my drink. So much for fucking intel.
“You know there were some minor incidents after that, but I think it was just high schoolers playing pranks,” Chad continues. “But what I did think was strange was that all the local stores had stopped selling clown makeup or costumes before Halloween. So whoever kept up the act must have been the same people from before who had already gotten those creepy costumes and makeup, or they went on the Internet and bought it just to be copycats, which I guess is a plausible theory.”
“Hmmm.”
I put my empty glass back on the counter and think about how Caleb said the clown he saw had a white face and black eyes. The clowns are definitely still making themselves up in that gothic fashion.
“Whatever it was, it’s over now, so fuck those punks,” Chad says angrily.
“Maybe. Thanks for the drink. Happy Thanksgiving.”
“Happy Thanksgiving bud.”
Whatever Caleb saw was a resurgence of whatever happened on Halloween night. Now I just have to figure out what they want, and why they seem to be targeting me, Brynn, or someone within our circle of friends.
Chapter 39 – Brynn
“Where’s Larson?” Caleb asks, for the fifth time since Larson left.
“I’m not sure,” I tell him.
I know that he went to find the clown, but I’m getting nervous about why he’s been gone so long. We’ve eaten all the Thanksgiving food and we’re watching the dog show from earlier that Riley and Jensen had recorded on their TV.
“I know we’re supposed to wait for Larson for dessert but I really need a bite of this pumpkin pie,” Harlow says, as he sneaks not so subtly into the kitchen and swipes a piece.
“Do you want some pie, Caleb?” I ask him, mostly to distract him from worrying about Larson.
“No thank you,” he says. “Wait for Larson. Woof woof. Big dog.”
He points his finger at a St. Bernard on the screen.
Just then Larson finally walks through the door.
“Larson!”
Caleb runs up to him as if he has been gone for a year. And in a way, it kind of feels as if he has.
“Is everything okay?” I ask him.
“Yes.”
He ruffles Caleb’s hair as Caleb hugs his legs.
“Let your mommy and I have some grown up time in the kitchen,” he tells Caleb.
“I want pie,” Caleb demands.
I’m about to say, “Just a little longer and then you can have some.”
But Larson says, “Mind your manners. Please wait in the living room with Riley and Mommy and I will bring you some pie when we’re done talking.”
“Okay.”
Caleb nods his head.
“Yes, sir,” says Larson.
“Yes, sir.”
Caleb obediently heads into the living room and takes Riley’s hand.
I hadn’t noticed until now how much I baby Caleb. And how he could benefit from a stern but loving male figure in his life.
Larson and I go into the kitchen and he grabs me and says, “We’re finally alone.”
He wraps his arms around me and holds me close.
“Where have you been?”
I’m excited to finally be with him again, but I also want to know what he found out about the clowns.
“You ask so many questions,” he says, and catches my lips with his.
He parts my lips with his tongue and kisses me deeply and passionately.
I return the kiss but say, “You taste like alcohol.”
He chuckles deeply, more of a grunt than a laugh, as he kisses me again.
“Seriously. I mean, I know there’s wine and champagne here but you taste like…”
“Whiskey?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
I pull away and look at him.
“Did you just go to a bar? What the hell is going on?”
“Yeah I did,” he answers me, which surprises me, even though I had asked the question. He kisses me again. “Do you want to know what it’s really like to be with me?”
“I… yes,” I answer, as he moves my legs apart with his own leg.
I was going to say I’m not sure, but I have no idea how to turn down such a good kisser. And I can feel his cock getting hard up against me. It’s all I can do not to pull him into Riley and Jensen’s bedroom right here, right now. If Caleb weren’t right in the living room— out of view from where we are but certainly able to see if we walked across the house— I would really want to do it.
“Good,” he says. “Because I’ve been wanting to stuff your turkey all day long.”
I laugh, trying to keep quiet.
“Is that what they’re calling it these days?” I ask him.
“It’s one of those dirty things you can only say on Thanksgiving,” he says.
“Well that’s good, because I saw that you still had something on your chin earlier. Must have been from the last time you enjoyed having me for dessert.”
I suck on his chin seductively, and he grabs my ass, sending chills down my spine.
“That’s funny because I’ve been waiting to dip my finger into your pie,” he says, and he does indeed dip his finger into the apple pie on the counter.
Then he puts his finger in my mouth and I suck on it gently yet firmly.
“I want you so bad,” he says. “I mean, pass some of that over here my way.”
“You two kids better knock it off because there are actual kids here in the house,” Jensen says, as he walks into the kitchen and causes me to jump.
Larson just laughs.
“Good, they know that the adults in their life are thankful for love and passion.”
I arch my eyebrows at him.
Love, huh.
“So what happened with the
clown sighting?” Jensen asks.
Harlow, Whitney, Ramsey and Monica gather into the kitchen as well.
“Yeah, what happened?” I ask, keeping my voice down low and peeking my head out to where Caleb is watching the dog show with Riley and the other kids.
“Couldn’t find him,” Larson says, shrugging as if it’s no big deal. But his eyes betray him. They look worried— a bit frantic even. “No one knows anything either. Chad says there have been no more clown sightings since Halloween.”
“Oh good,” Whitney says. “I guess Caleb just overheard something and let his imagination run wild.”
“Poor kid,” Harlow agrees, nodding his head. “I’d be scared too, at that age. Being back in this house again.”
“Hey!” Jensen protests. “There’s nothing wrong with this house.”
Everyone goes back to joking and relaxing, but I’m still worked up. I don’t like that they’re dismissing what I know Caleb saw. It scares me that a clown was looking through the window. And I can tell that it scares Larson too.
He puts his arms around my waist and says, “I’m glad everyone is safe and sound.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “The clown probably took one look in here and saw that you’re around and skedaddled.”
“He doesn’t feel like being knocked the fuck out today,” Ramsey jokes.
Everyone laughs, although Monica says, “Watch your language.”
I turn around to see Riley at the entrance to the kitchen, holding Drew on her hip.
“Caleb is really wanting a slice of that pie,” Riley says.
“Oh yeah, I should bring it out to him,” I tell her, reluctantly moving out of Larson’s grasp to get a plate.
“It’s Cool Whip time,” Larson says with a grin.
“You two are disgusting,” Whitney laughs.
“Yeah, I don’t know if Caleb should be eating that pie,” Larson says. “After all we’ve done to defile it in both words and action.”
“If you two love birds want to spend the night together, I’ll watch Caleb,” Riley volunteers.
“Really?” I look out to the living room where Caleb is playing on a toy cash register with James.
I feel bad leaving him here but it would also be great to reunite with Larson in a more intimate way. We still have to officially make up.
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