“You know it is.”
Malcolm stopped short as his father’s second wife, Genifer, stepped through the sun-porch door, looking sun-kissed and pretty in jeans and a white blouse.
“Holy crap, Gen! Hi!”
“Now that’s the kind of greeting a gal likes to hear.” Genifer reached up to give him a hug. “How are you, handsome?”
“I’m a little confused, but otherwise fine,” he said with a laugh. “Are you sure we’re in the right house?”
“Hah, Jack said something similar when he got here—he did a literal double-take when he saw me.” She stepped back and patted Malcolm’s arm with a fond smile. “Your mom and I have been talking recently. Had lunch a couple of times and grabbed some coffee this week.”
“Get out. Really?”
Genifer held her hand up like she was making a pledge. “All true. She and your dad and I want to be friends. Be a proper family, really, which is surprisingly nice. Especially if your dad and I get lucky with a baby someday.”
“Nice for you and me both.” Malcolm glanced toward the door where he could just see his mom and smiled. “I’m really glad to hear that.”
Genifer had cocked her head when Malcolm looked back her way. “Are you all right?” she asked. “I don’t mean to sound like a jerk, but you look completely wiped.”
Malcolm made his right shoulder move in a half shrug. He looked like crap and knew it. His head still ached and he’d had trouble sleeping last night, unable to stop thinking about Stuart and their argument. Stuart had waited while Malcolm used his phone to order a Lyft, and while they’d held hands the whole time, he’d been oddly quiet. A somber expression had fallen over his features by the time the car pulled up, and his touch had lingered as he’d walked Malcolm to the car. Something unreadable in Stuart’s eyes followed Malcolm even now.
What a mess.
“I’m fine,” Malcolm said. “Just didn’t sleep well.”
Genifer hummed and gave him another pat. “Let’s get you fed and watered. I was coming in to grab a second pitcher of Sangria from the fridge and mix up another, so why don’t you go on out?”
Malcolm eyed her askance. “How much Sangria are you people planning to drink?”
“No judging.” Genifer smiled, her brown eyes bright. “One pitcher only goes so far among five people. It’s your dad’s recipe, actually, and we brought a bunch of antipasti from the city, too, to help your mom with the cooking.”
The next half hour was a blur of hugs and hellos while Malcolm caught up with everyone and hid his amazement at how at ease Genifer and his mom appeared with each other. Kim was acting like her typical self and fussing over Malcolm like always. She chided him for wearing a hoodie and for working too hard, then asked after his friends, but an air of real contentment hung about her. Malcolm knew that was in no small part due to having her whole family gathered together again, Genifer included, a thing Malcolm would not have predicted.
Seeing his mother so comfortable made him smile even as his throat grew tight. Stuart was right. Malcolm couldn’t keep shielding Kim from the world—he was only hurting them both in the long run. They needed a plan that would work for everyone, today and into the future.
“Is it the wine?” he asked his brother, voice low, while Kim was chatting with Genifer and Stephen.
Jackson chuckled quietly. “I’m not sure. She didn’t tell me they’d be here either, but she really seems okay with everything.” He poked at the fruit in his glass. “I won’t lie and say I’m not waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
“Oh, good.” Malcolm took a slug of his drink. “I don’t need any more surprises in my life right now.”
“What does that mean?” Jackson frowned. “Everything okay?”
“More or less, I think. We should talk later,” he said, just as the timer in the kitchen rang and Kim got to her feet and started doling out tasks to everyone.
Malcolm found himself at the counter, carving one chicken while his dad carved the second, and Kim, Genifer and Jackson put together a massive platter of flat breads, cured meats, cheeses and various pickled vegetables.
“These olives are amazing,” Kim said to Genifer. “I’m so glad you brought both black and green, even though none of the Elliott men will eat them.”
“Olives taste like soap,” Malcolm and Jackson said in unison while their father made a face.
“You can’t have charcuterie without them!” Kim protested over Genifer’s chuckling, and Malcolm rolled his eyes.
“Charcuterie are meats, Mom.” He glanced over his shoulder at the tray on the table. “The rest of the things on that platter are antipasti, including the meat and things that taste like soap.”
Kim waved him off with a laugh. “They taste delicious, you weirdo! And since when do you know so much about food, hm? Getting tips from your friend the chef?”
“I suppose I have.” Face warm, Malcolm turned back to his carving, his family’s chatter rolling over him.
“I didn’t know you were still hanging with the chef, dude.”
“I met him,” Kim said to Jackson. “Stuart helped your brother fix the steps on the porch and do a few things around the house. He looks gruff and tough, but he was actually lovely. And much more of a gentleman than the guy I was dating.”
Malcolm winced. His mother had ended things with Scott from Maine shortly after the ankle injury. His lackadaisical attitude toward her wellbeing hadn’t done him any favors.
“You should have invited Stuart for dinner, honey,” Kim called over to Malcolm now. “And, Jack, why didn’t you bring Marissa?”
“You know Marissa works on Sunday,” Jackson replied.
“An occupational hazard when it comes to retail,” Stephen said. “Any chance she’s given thought to making a career change?”
Genifer tutted. “Honey.”
“The woman speaks fluent Arabic, Berber and French, Gen, in addition to perfect English.” Stephen set his carving knife down. “You know we all support Marissa no matter what she wants to do for a living. She would make a hell of an interpreter or translator, however, and I’ve been telling her that for years!”
“It happens that Marissa agrees with you,” Jackson said. He was grinning when Malcolm and his dad glanced back at him. “She starts at NYU to get her certification this fall and she’s taking some classes this summer to prepare.”
Malcolm smiled at his brother over the others’ congratulations. “That’s great, Jack.”
“Hopefully, you’ll think so after we both move back into the apartment in K-Town with you.” Jackson grimaced. “With Marissa back at school, we’ll be down one salary so…”
“I get it, believe me.” Malcolm didn’t need to pretend he was okay with the idea of having extra roommates again. He’d need to explain a few other things before Jackson and Marissa moved back in, of course. Like why he might get random grocery deliveries and why the chef Malcolm had mentioned a few times could be around more than Jackson might expect.
No time like the present, I guess, with everyone here.
But what if…
…what? His family reacted badly to the idea that Malcolm wanted to be with a man? Refused to accept it? Kicked him out of their lives?
Malcolm swallowed. His family wasn’t like that. He knew it deep in his bones. They’d be okay with whomever he wanted in his life. Jackson wouldn’t give a damn. Marissa had dated both men and women before they’d met. And Malcolm’s parents had always maintained that they loved him and Jackson for who they were, inside and out, and that it didn’t matter whom they loved so long as they were happy, and the person treated them well. They’d be okay if Malcolm told them he was falling in love with a man.
Which was exactly what was happening.
Malcolm carried the tray of chicken back out to the porch. The world had gone fuzzy around him. He was falling, no doubt about it. Up until yesterday, he’d never been happier with anyone he’d dated. Even now, still half-angry at Stuart and raw
from their argument, Malcolm wanted him. Wished he were here on the porch with Malcolm and the Elliotts, chatting about how well the wine complemented the prosciutto and maybe fighting his mom and Genifer to see who could eat the most olives.
Without even knowing it, Malcolm had passed ‘like’ a long time ago with Stuart and started heading toward something bigger. Much bigger. He swallowed a giddy chuckle. Fuck, he was in deep. He wanted the people in his life to know it, too, at least a little.
“What do you think, Mal?” Stephen raised an eyebrow when Malcolm blinked at him. “Did you even hear me?”
“Sorry, no, I didn’t. I was trying to figure out how to tell you guys that Stuart and I have been seeing each other,” he said. “Then I figured it made sense to just say it out loud and not make things complicated. Stuart and I are dating.”
The porch went silent and now it was Stephen’s turn to blink. “Stuart…the chef your mother was talking about?” He glanced at Kim, whose eyes had gone wide. “The guy who fixed the porch, right?”
“Right.” Malcom met the blank expressions of his family. “We started out as friends and it changed.”
“It changed, huh?” his mom asked. Kim had begun to smile, and the sight made Malcolm’s heart pound with a fierce happiness that almost made him dizzy. “Into something romantic?”
He felt sure his face had gone up in flames, and he wanted to roll his eyes at Genifer’s gentle laughter. “Yes, into something romantic. That’s kind of the point of dating, isn’t it?”
“I knew it.” Kim’s smile shifted, and ugh, Malcolm saw where from a mile away. “I definitely saw something between the two of you that day!”
“We were still friends at that point, Mom, but hey, maybe you did. I like him a lot.”
A big grin transformed Jackson’s face, too. “Good for you, bro. Marissa and I would have tried to hook you up with guys too, if we’d known you were bi.”
“I didn’t really know it myself.” Malcolm pushed the chicken on his plate around with his fork, excruciatingly aware of his father’s eyes on him. “It’s new to me, too.”
“That had to have been confusing for you,” Genifer said, her voice even more gentle than usual.
“It was.” Malcolm tipped his head from side to side. “Still is on occasion. It’s getting easier, though. I’m figuring it out. With Stuart, of course.”
“Good.” Stephen drew his brows together, and the expression on his face was as kind as Malcolm had ever seen. “This man, Stuart. He treats you right, son?”
Malcolm stared at his father. The sharp words he’d exchanged with Stuart the night before echoed in his head, but his heart beat louder and drowned them out in the sweetest way possible. Sure, he and Stuart had some work to do. Malcolm knew they could get through it.
“Yeah, Dad,” he said with a smile. “He does.”
* * * *
“So you’re into guys, huh?”
Malcolm smiled down at his beer. After dinner—and way more talking about his personal life than he’d generally endure—Malcolm and his brother had hitched a ride back to Koreatown with their dad and Genifer where they’d bought a six-pack from the corner bodega and headed up to the apartment.
“Like I told you guys back at Mom’s, I’m into Stuart.” Malcolm met his brother’s gaze. “Probably guys in general. Definitely him.”
A crease appeared across Jackson’s brow. “He’s really the first man you’ve ever been with? You didn’t specify earlier.”
“He is.” Malcolm licked his lips. “I wasn’t hiding being bi from you guys or anything like that. I honestly didn’t know it was in me. I’m still not even sure I am bi or if I’m something else. I’ve been…curious, I guess, about another man in the past and never felt the need to act on it. Never even considered it, honestly. This thing with Stuart surprised me. Him too, I think.”
Jackson hummed. “Marissa says sexuality is fluid in some people.”
“That’s what a lot of current research indicates, yes. Sexual identity can shift over time, moving from exclusively heterosexual to bisexual, then from bisexual to exclusively gay or even back to straight. Or not.” Malcolm shrugged. “Some people who shift from straight to bi continue to identify as bi or pan.”
“Sometimes, I forget that knowing stuff like this is part of your job.” Jackson clasped Malcolm’s shoulder with his hand. “Maybe that’s why you seem a lot less freaked out than I’d have expected in anyone else—you already have knowledge that an average person might not. Then again, you’re you, so of course you’re chill.”
“Only on the outside. I have a lot of resources and opportunities to educate myself about sexual identity. I don’t have all the answers, though. I definitely freak out sometimes and question myself.” Malcolm winced. “I sort of knew what I was doing when it came to women, you know? Dating a man is different. And I’m not even talking about sex.”
“Well, good. By the way, I really don’t want to talk about my brother having sex with anyone, male or female, thank you very much.” Jackson waited for Malcolm to stop laughing before he spoke again.
“You like this guy, Mal?”
“Stuart.”
“Okay, Stuart. You like him, right? I’m not talking about sex, either, by the way.”
“I do.” Malcolm hauled in a deep breath. “He means a lot to me.”
“I can tell.”
“Yeah?”
“Mm-hm.” Jackson gestured with the bottle. “I can see it in your face. You used to get a similar kind of look when you were around Liz. This is different, though.”
“I know it is.” Malcolm stared at his brother. “I’m different. What I feel for him is nothing like what I had with Liz or anyone else. This isn’t just a crush or something casual.”
Jackson’s face softened. “That’s great. Really. I can’t tell you how glad I am to hear you say that. Except…”
“Except what?” Malcolm worried his bottom lip with his teeth when his brother frowned.
“You haven’t seemed one hundred percent happy today, either. I can see that in your face too, like you’re bummed out or stressed, and I gotta say it worries me.” Jackson set his bottle down. “Is it Stuart or has something else got you down?”
“More like Stuart and something else,” Malcolm said with a sigh. “This is why I mentioned wanting to talk back at the house. Because we need to make some changes, Jack. You, me and Mom.”
The brothers talked for over an hour, weeding through everything that had happened in the last several months. Malcolm spoke candidly about how quickly things had snowballed following Kim’s accident and about how hard he’d taken the discovery that Stuart had gone to the speakeasy guys behind his back. Jackson went pale when he finally understood the extent of Malcolm’s struggles, and his voice came out gruff when he spoke.
“You should have told me. I’d have helped more, Mal. Tell me you know that.”
Malcolm nodded. “I do. I was being stubborn about it. Stupid, really.” He shook his head. “I’m not even sure why. Stuart said it last night. I have all these people in my life who would have helped or even listened and, for the life of me, I couldn’t make myself tell them. Fuck, I blew off yoga today so I wouldn’t have to talk to Kyle about it.” Malcolm looked his brother in the eye. “I’m starting to think I’m just as bad as Mom when it comes to denial.”
“You didn’t want to hurt her. Or me. And I get that.” Jackson swallowed hard. “You’re not the only one who’s been pretending there’s nothing wrong. I haven’t been entirely up front with Marissa about how much money we give Mom every month, either. She knows we’re doing it,” he added quickly when Malcolm’s eyes got big. “Just not how much. You’ve been giving more, too…shit. I can’t believe I had no idea. I thought you were working out too much, not going hungry!”
“That doesn’t matter now. What does is knowing we can’t keep this up. We have to talk to Mom. I mean really talk to her and not hold back. She needs to go back to work full-time. C
hange her habits. She has to help and stop pretending everything is fine when we know it’s not.”
“You’re right.” Jackson rubbed his fingers over his mouth. “I know we’ve been trying to avoid getting Dad involved but he needs to know, too.”
“Fu-u-uck.” Malcolm groaned. “Mom’s going to be pissed. We have to make sure we tell them together, okay? Mom will be so hurt if she finds out we told Dad first.” Malcolm could imagine only too well how crushed his mother would feel.
Sympathy flashed over Jackson’s face. “I see your point and I’ll handle it.”
“What? No, that’s not what I—”
“I know you didn’t. But you’ve been carrying so much by yourself for too long.” Jackson pinned Malcolm with a near glare. “Let me do this, okay? Not for Mom—for you. And, seriously, man, take your own observation to heart and let people in so they can help.”
The lump in Malcolm’s throat kept him from answering, but he managed a smile as he nodded at his brother. He accepted a hug, too, and chuckled when Jackson seemed reluctant to let Malcolm go.
“I’m okay, Jack,” Malcolm said as he walked Jackson to the door. “Still pretty broke but things are turning around some.” He sighed. “It helps that I don’t have to worry about food so much.”
Jackson winced. “I know you’re mad at your friends for doing that, but I feel like I owe them a thank-you. Stuart especially. How long would you have gone playing martyr if he hadn’t spoken up?”
“I wasn’t being a martyr. Not intentionally, anyway.” Malcolm scrunched up his nose. “I’m not sure how long I’d have let it go on. You and Marissa moving back in would have changed some things, obviously. Stuart going to the guys was a serious kick in the ass, however.”
“A kick you resent,” Jackson prompted. He leaned against the front door, gaze sharp as he looked Malcolm over.
Malcolm folded his arms over his chest. “I don’t like it, no. Or that he seemed willing to lie about it. That crosses lines for me. At the same time, I understand why Stuart felt he had to and why the guys stepped up to help, too. I definitely know now that they did it because they care. Stuart especially.”
Straight Up Page 19