by C. E. Knipes
He flipped back around and rested his head on my chest. He ran his hands over it and my stomach.
“How did I not remember you were so hairy?”
“You just never noticed before. You’re seeing me differently now.”
“You can say that again. Are you going to stay for breakfast?”
“I’m thinking it would not be a good idea to be here when your parents wake up.”
“You’re probably right.”
“I should probably be going.”
I got out of bed and got dressed. Max led me down the stairs and onto the porch.
“Would you like me to walk you home?”
“I think I can manage. I’ve been doing it for years.”
“Okay. Happy Thanksgiving.”
“Same to you. Why don’t you come over after dinner for dessert? You know my mom’s famous apple pie. Say around six.”
“That sounds good.”
We kissed and hugged good-bye, and I walked home. Max came over for dessert as promised. Our relationship lasted six months. When it became apparent that Maxwell and I were dating, most of my family took it well. I think they all knew I was gay. Brandon and my mom gave me the most support. And Brandon was always there for me to talk through the ups and downs. And the breakup. Rory had taken the relationship the hardest. It had never gotten ugly, but he had not been a fan of me and Max.
I realized I had gone completely around the block and was facing my parents’ house once more. I turned my phone back on. There had been no more texts or calls from Sebastian. I wondered what he was doing right now. Was he with Brent, making plans for their Thanksgiving holiday? Were they in bed at this very moment? Were they laughing at the joke they had played on me? I knew I would drive myself crazy with these thoughts. If I wanted to know what he was doing I would have to call him. My cell rang. I answered it without checking to see who it was.
“Hello, this is Evan.”
It was Sebastian.
Chapter Nine
And wherever he was calling from, there was loud music playing in the background. It was impossible to miss the fact that he’d been drinking.
“Evan, are you there? It’s Sebastian.”
My heart was beating in my chest. There went my plan to ignore him for the entire Thanksgiving break in all my diva glory.
“I’m here. What the fuck do you want?”
My words sounded harsh, even to my own ears. I fought against the quaver in my voice.
“Are you at your parents’?”
“Yes.”
There was a pause.
“So, I guess I won’t be joining you for Thanksgiving.”
The sarcasm in his voice was hard to miss. But there was also an unmistakable touch of sadness. I willed myself to be strong.
“Are you kidding me? After what happened this morning with Brent? What part of ‘we’re through’ did you not understand?”
“I would like a chance to explain myself, Evan. You at least owe me that.”
“You got drunk and slept with your ex. Explanation done. Now you have two exes.”
He started to say something as I turned my phone off. I leaned against the large oak in our front yard. Tears stung my eyes and froze on my cheeks.
I stood till the joint had burned out, then retrieved my bags from the car. I walked to my parents’ front porch. I climbed the steps and peered in one of the large front windows. No one was in the living room.
I opened the front door quietly and stepped into the front hall. I was silent as the familiar smells of home enveloped me. My solitude was shattered by a maelstrom of voices raised in heated, or excited, conversations. The cacophony came from the kitchen, as I’d anticipated. I knew my entire family was gathered in the kitchen, some at the table, the rest standing, leaning against counters, or sitting on them. The smells of spaghetti sauce, tomorrow night’s dinner, a Thanksgiving-eve family tradition, intermixed with the aroma of the numerous pies my mother had baked.
I took my coat off and hung it on the rack by the front door. I set my bags on the floor. Before heading down the short hallway to the kitchen, I paused at the living room entrance. It was just as I had last seen it. Oversized, comfortable furniture, numerous tables that thankfully were not loaded with Mom’s favorite knickknacks, and a large screen HDTV in the far corner. Some sports program was playing on it with the sound off. The walls were painted a light grayish tan to give the room depth. One entire wall was devoted to bookshelves overflowing with books. My parents were both avid readers.
When I entered the kitchen, all eyes turned to me and a chorus of, “Hey, Evan,” greeted me. Several bottles of whiskey were on the table, intermingled with beer bottles and my mom’s favorite red wine. My brothers were there, including Rory. He must have arrived a day early to beat the worst of the storm. In order of age, from oldest to youngest, my brothers were Rory, Ian, Colin, and Brandon. Rory and Ian were leaning against the counter; Colin and Brandon were sitting on it. My mother and father; Rory’s wife, Madeline; and their two girls, Katie and Bridget, were seated at the table. Along with Colin’s wife, Margaret, who was seven months pregnant.
Ian and Colin both looked like younger versions of my father. Each had reddish brown hair, indicative of their heritage. Rory, Brandon, and I were blonds, with leanings more to the reddish, bronze type than bleach.
My mother got up and came to me, her arms outstretched. I stepped into them and was engulfed in her wonderful smells. She kissed each cheek as she hugged me fiercely.
“Welcome home, Evan. It’s so wonderful to have you with us again.”
She released me and held me at arm’s length. My father came to stand behind her. “You look thin. Are you getting enough to eat?”
“It’s great to be home, Mom. And yes, I’m getting plenty to eat. You just saw me.”
“Yes, you looked thin then as well.”
No one asked about Sebastian, so I knew she had given the order not to. Good old Mom.
She stepped aside to allow my father to greet me. It was the standard firm handshake, followed by a hearty hug and a slap on the back. I received the same from my brothers. From Madeline and Margaret, I got hugs and kisses. Katie and Bridget allowed shy hugs.
“Good to have you home again, Evan. Can I get you a drink?”
“Sure, Dad. Whiskey is fine. Neat.”
“Let him get washed up first, Shaun. I put fresh sheets on your bed and aired out your room, Evan. Go wash up. Dinner is ready.”
“Your whiskey will be waiting for you.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
I left the kitchen through a second entrance. To my immediate left, back stairs went to the second floor. The door to my right led outside. I climbed the stairs two at a time, eager as always to see my room. When I opened the door, it was just as I’d left it two years ago when I became a freshman at Milton. I threw my bags on the bed. I would unpack later. I lay on my bed for a moment, looking at the Pink Floyd, Tom Hardy, and Zac Effron pictures. A floor-to-ceiling bookshelf to my left held all editions of Stephen King, Anne Rice, and Dean Koontz. It was good to be home. I closed my bedroom door and washed up in the bathroom at the end of the hall. I turned my phone on quickly to check it. Nothing. I left it in my room and went downstairs, taking them two at a time again.
When I reentered the kitchen, everyone was moving into the dining room. It mainly housed an enormous table that my father and Rory had built from scratch. My parents sat at either end, with Rory, Ian, and Colin to father’s right, and me and Brandon to my mother’s right. That’s the way it had always been. Madeline, Margaret, and the girls filled in the remaining seats as they pleased.
I took my normal seat, taking a big gulp of the whiskey waiting for me. As always, dinner was a large, noisy, wondrous affair. My mother had cooked an enormous pot roast, complete with baked potatoes, turnips, onions, celery, radishes, and carrots. There was a large bowl of peas and one of corn, and another bowl of homemade applesauce. Add in two baskets of
homemade rolls, and it was indeed a feast. Once I was seated, my father said grace. After amen, I finished my whiskey and poured another from one of the many bottles available. I also poured a glass of white wine.
As the food was passed, everyone began talking at once. Much of the conversation was directed at me. I fielded questions about school and my plans for the remainder of the week. Thankfully, there were no questions about Sebastian.
I ate till I was stuffed. And then ate some more. After two more whiskeys and a second glass of wine, I was pleasantly buzzed. I helped clear the table when everyone had finished eating.
“You go sit in the living room, Evan. We’ll get these dishes done and then we’ll have dessert.”
My mother and Margaret began loading the dishwasher, and Colin started on the pots and pans. The rest of us adjourned to the living room. Within minutes, Katie and Bridget were snuggled with my father in his recliner and a Disney movie was on the TV. I curled up on the couch with the intent to “just rest my eyes.” The next thing I knew, my mother was gently shaking me awake. She was holding a plate with a large slice of apple pie with vanilla ice cream.
“Thanks, Mom.”
After a second helping of pie, Rory suggested we head to Spenser’s for pool and drinks. It was only a few blocks away, easily within walking distance.
“That sounds like a great idea. Let me change my shirt and wash up.”
I ran upstairs to my room and grabbed a clean shirt from the closet. I quickly brushed my teeth and washed my face. When I was back in my room, I checked my phone. No messages or texts from Sebastian. I opened the tin in my duffel bag, grabbed three joints, and slid them inside my shirt pocket. Once back downstairs, we each kissed our mother good night, although we knew she wouldn’t sleep till we were all safely tucked in bed. We also said good night to the others, donned coats, boots, and gloves, and headed out the door, Ian in the lead.
“Now don’t be out too late, boys.”
“We won’t, Mom,” the five of us chorused.
Once on the front porch, I paused.
“I’m going to text Jess to see if she’d like to meet us.”
She responded immediately.
“I’ll meet u there in 20. Samantha is coming with me.”
Samantha was Jessica’s older sister. One of four. As with Jessica, I had been friends with her since we were little. Not best friends mind you, but great friends.
We had just made it around the corner when Ian stopped and turned to me.
“Got a joint?”
None of my brothers smoked on a regular basis, at least that’s what they always told me. They all drank to excess, but only seemed to smoke when around me.
“You know I do.”
I lit one and we began passing it around. Brandon abstained as usual. None of them coughed in the slightest, so I was pretty sure this wasn’t a one-time thing for them. We smoked as we walked, finishing the joint right as we reached Spenser’s. We entered single file. We were all regulars here and were greeted with a chorus of “Hellos” and a few groans from some of our smartass acquaintances. We had no trouble finding a table, as it was still early. Lionel Spenser, one of Max’s older brothers, came to our table.
“Well, all the McGarrity boys in one night. To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“It’s the holidays, of course, Lionel.”
“What can I get you?”
He took our order and was back within minutes with beers and whiskeys for all. Ian went to the nearest pool table, inserted his quarters, and racked a game.
“Who feels like losing tonight?”
My entire family, Mom and Dad included, were consummate pool players. Rory rose to the challenge, and the game was quickly underway. Ten minutes or so later, Jessica and Samantha arrived. Samantha was a year older than Jessica. She was attending Rosemont College near Syracuse. She gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“Hi, Sam, it’s great to see you.”
“Good to see you too, Evan.”
“What can I get the two of you to drink?”
“I’ll have a beer and a shot of tequila. And for you, Sammie?”
“The same.”
When I got back to the table, Samantha was playing pool at a second table next to Rory’s. I set her drinks down on a small table next to her.
“Thanks, Evan.”
Jessica did her shot and chased it with the beer. I quickly brought her up to speed on my family.
“How’s everything at your house? Have all the relatives arrived and is everything ready for the big day on Thursday?”
“Some are already here. A few aunts and uncles will arrive tomorrow afternoon. Weather permitting of course. I made my world famous pumpkin pie. Sam made an apple. We’re eating at five. My mom has already warned me about not going out tomorrow night. So, are we going to talk about Sebastian? Or should we dance around the subject the rest of the night?”
“I had a call earlier tonight.”
I filled her in on the details of the conversation.
“Well, he’s obviously not over you, Evan. Once you cool down a bit you should talk to him. I believe his feelings for you are genuine. I can’t believe he’s simply been stringing you along this whole time.”
“Jess, he has a history of going back to Brent each time they broke up. Brent confirmed this at the Fall Formal.”
“So there’s no other explanation for what you saw. I’ve been thinking a lot about this. From what Sebastian has told us, and seeing it firsthand, you know Brent’s a creep. What if Sebastian was so drunk he didn’t realize what he was doing?”
“You want me to believe that Brent got Sebastian back to his room, undressed him, had sex with him, and Sebastian didn’t know it was happening? That’s pretty drunk, Jess. I’ve never seen Sebastian that inebriated. This isn’t a daytime soap opera.”
“Evan, you hear about these date-rape drugs in the news. What if Brent used something like that on Sebastian? Christ, what if it was Brent who drugged you at the Halloween Party?”
“I discussed that very scenario with Brandon and Sebastian. While it’s quite possible, and we’re pretty sure he did, there’s no solid evidence it was him. It could have been anyone at that party, Jess.”
“You’re just sharing this with me now?”
“Brandon felt the less people who knew the better. As to what just happened with Sebastian, it would be his word against Brent’s. Unless any witnesses came forward. Unfortunately, any physical evidence is probably gone. Let’s not talk about this anymore, okay, Jess? I just want to have a good time tonight.”
She didn’t answer. She was staring at something or someone over my shoulder.
“Oh, Christ, look who’s here. Perfect timing.”
When I turned around, I saw Max standing at the bar.
“Just what the doctor ordered, hey, Evan?”
“Jess, don’t be catty. It’s been over between us for a long time. You know we’re just friends.”
“Right. And you just got dumped, and he looks hot as hell. Do I need to paint you a picture?”
Jessica had never liked Max. After our breakup, she had disliked him even more.
I’d had several glasses of wine with dinner, and two or three whiskeys as well. Since arriving at Spenser’s, I’d had two more beers and two shots of tequila. In other words, I was feeling no pain.
I watched as Max scanned the bar, then began moving among the patrons. He resembled a lion scouting its prey. Instantly, my senses were on high alert. Damn, he still looked good. It wasn’t the alcohol making me say that, either.
When he saw me and Jessica, he made a beeline for our table. Brandon came swiftly back to join me. As I watched Max approach, I found myself breathing a little heavier from my excitement.
He stopped at our table.
“Hi, Evan. Hi, Jessica. I see you’re both home for Thanksgiving. How’ve you been, Evan? How are things at Milton?”
“I’m fine, Max. Classes are going well. Jess
is keeping me out of trouble. How are you? How’s the job going?”
“I’m doing great. I just got a promotion to junior sales manager.”
Max worked at a local clothing store.
“I’ve also been helping my dad and Lionel run the bar. The rest of my brothers seem to have lost interest in this place. Can I buy you a beer?”
“I would like that, Max.”
He turned to Jessica.
“Can I get you something, Jessica?”
“I’m fine. Thanks.”
As he headed to the bar, Jessica grabbed my hand and squeezed it till it hurt.
“Promise me you’re not going home with him tonight.”
“Okay, okay? I promise. Now, let go of my hand.”
Brandon was sitting with us when Max returned with my beer.
“Hi, Max. Long time no see.”
“Brandon. It’s good to see you’re still keeping an eye on your little brother. Don’t worry, I’m only buying him a beer.”
“Let’s keep it that way.”
It was plain to see by the look on his face that Brandon’s quip had stung him.
“Evan, could I talk to you alone?”
“We’re just here having a few beers and shooting some stick, Max. No need for any heavy talks right now. Why don’t you join us for a few games? I’ll be home till Sunday afternoon.”
“Okay. Thanks, Evan. I’d enjoy a game. I’ll rack.”
No one had placed any more quarters on our table. Max racked and Brandon broke.
“Max and I will play against Brandon and Jess.”
By the look on Jessica’s face, I knew she was trying to hold herself back from kicking me in the balls. Brandon didn’t have a smile on his face, either. As I was getting up, Samantha came over from her table, my brothers trailing her.
“I’m going to head home, sis. The McGarrity boys are going to escort me. It’s been a long day, and I’m tired.”
“Okay, Sam. We’re going to shoot a few more games, and then I’ll be home as well.
“Happy Thanksgiving, Evan.”
“You too, Sam. You’re joining us for dessert after dinner on Thursday, correct?”