by Kelex
“Something tells me they’ll go back to stalking our front door tomorrow,” Stacey replied.
“I’m sorry,” Noah replied.
“That’s not your fault. It’s Walt and Abbie Lee to blame for this idiocy,” Geena said.
His mother took a step forward. “With the protection in place, maybe it’s time to come home? You could come with us… we could go pick up your things. We’ve got a room that’s been ready for you for years.”
“I… I don’t know…” The thought of leaving Brody broke him inside. He’d wanted so desperately to prove they could be together and in doing so, he’d destroyed so much. “If I do, will you let Brody see Parker again?”
“We don’t need to discuss that,” his mother said.
“Brody did nothing wrong. He didn’t know who I was. I didn’t know who he was.”
“He’s aware now,” his mother spat. “And still he let this continue.”
“He only wanted to protect me. I’ve been sleeping in the guest room,” Noah whispered. It was a bit of a lie. There had been that one night. The one Brody declared was their last. Noah hadn’t wanted to believe it would be, but it seemed he might be wrong.
His mother and Geena remained silent a moment.
“It’s over?” Geena asked.
Noah cringed. “Honestly? I don’t want it to be. But I don’t want to get in between him and his son. If you let him see Parker again—I’ll come home with you.”
His mother and Geena glanced at one another, no words exchanged.
“He can stop by the house to see his son. We’ll be there to supervise,” Geena replied.
Noah frowned. “You act like he’s some criminal.”
“He did sleep with one of my sons,” his mother replied.
“Seriously?” came from behind Noah. He turned to see Brody there. “Stacey, Parker’s my son. Noah is not. I can’t believe you’d insinuate I’d do anything to Parker.”
“I have no idea who you are anymore,” his mother said to Brody.
Brody glared. “You now sound like Walt. It’s disgusting.”
His mother cringed. “He’s barely legal, Brody. You’re nearly forty.”
“Which isn’t a crime,” Brody replied. “What about Harry and Red? There’s nearly a thirty-year age difference between them and you don’t blink an eye about inviting them to your dinner table. Why is this so much different?”
“Harry is thirty-five and Red is sixty-something,” Geena said. “They’re both adults.”
“Harry was a nineteen-year-old intern at Red’s office when they met,” Brody barked. “Were you aware of that? The fact you met them after they’d been together for over a decade doesn’t change the gap. It does illustrate your hypocrisy,” Brody argued. “If you accept them, you can accept this.”
“Noah is my son,” Stacey said. “This is different.”
“Would I have chosen this had I known who he was? No. But it happened, Stace. We can’t unring that bell. You’re aware that I haven’t wanted to be with someone else in a long, long time, and I don’t understand this connection Noah and I have, but it’s there. We enjoy one another’s company. Both of us realize it might not last, but then we might have a chance at what Harry and Red have. Who knows?”
Noah leaned into Brody. “I enjoy being with him, too.” He turned to capture Brody’s gaze. “But I didn’t come here to destroy a family. I wanted to find one. I can’t be the reason Parker doesn’t have a dad. I understand what it feels like to lose a parent.” He stepped away. “I want Parker to have what I didn’t.”
Brody eyed Noah, sorrow in his expression. He closed his eyes and turned his face.
Noah faced his mother and Geena. Tears burned the backs of his eyes. “If the offer of a bedroom is still available, I would kindly accept.” No, he didn’t want to go.
But he had to… for Brody and Parker’s sake.
Days passed. Noah spent them inside his mother and Geena’s home, eyeing his father’s SUV still parked down the street. The protective order? It meant very little. The one time he’d ventured outside, they’d approached him and forced him back inside. By the time the cops arrived, they were back in their vehicle, claiming they’d never left. As they were exactly five-hundred feet away, the police—who clearly seemed to realize his parents were harassing him—could do nothing. Noah had to hide inside to prevent them from snatching him on the street.
His mother’s home had become a new prison.
He spent time playing video games with Parker, who kicked his ass repeatedly. He slept. He attempted to read from his mother’s vast collection of books. But mostly, he longed to see Brody again.
A knock came to his bedroom door one Saturday morning. His mother opened the door and peeked in. “We’re having a dinner party tonight. I want some of my friends to meet you.”
“Okay,” Noah said, lowering the book he’d been reading.
She walked over and took a seat on the floor beside him. After lifting the book to see what he was reading, she glanced over at him. “I hate seeing you so unhappy here.”
Noah couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t tell her what would make him happy. “It’s not easy when I’m basically a prisoner.” He eyed his mother. “That’s not your fault.”
“Maybe it’s a little of my fault. I forced you to come home, when I knew what was waiting outside for you. At least you were safer with… him.” She sighed. “But you belong here. With us.”
“Brody did nothing wrong,” Noah defended. “Neither of us did.”
“Yes, technically… he didn’t do anything wrong. I appreciate your arguments. You’re both consenting adults… you’re not related… yet, in a way, you are. There’s a moral gray area there that you seem to refuse to see.”
“Perhaps I don’t want to see it… because I felt safe with Brody.”
“Did you ever stop to think that’s all it was? He made you feel safe—and that was the allure? If your father and Abbie Lee were no longer a threat—would you still want to be with him?”
Noah considered her question a moment. “Yeah. I would.”
“You’re young. You have no idea what you want to do with your life. You’ve said as much.” She rose to her feet. “Why don’t you come down and help us get ready for this dinner tonight? We’ve got to go to the grocery store… straighten up the house… make sure Geena doesn’t do any of the cooking…” She grinned. “I need help keeping her out of the kitchen. You up to the task?”
Noah rose. It was better than doing nothing.
“Who’s coming to this party?”
“A few friends from work,” she answered. “You’ll like these guys… and I’m quite sure they’ll adore you. Come on.”
His mother led him down to the kitchen where they wrote a list of what to buy. Then, he went to the store with Geena—followed distantly by that dark SUV. Once home, they prepared dinner and straightened up. For once, Noah was actually looking forward to something. After days of house arrest, a dinner party and guests might occupy his thoughts for a while.
Apparently, their dinner parties were a regular thing. His mother seemed to relish the idea of entertaining friends. A couple of the guests—Eric and James—arrived early, bringing wine and hanging out to chat and help here and there. Noah liked his mother’s friends. They were a couple and really seemed to care for one another. As Noah knew so few gay men, he was intrigued by them and their stories.
Later, another couple arrived—Anson and Jereme. From the moment Noah met Jereme, with full make-up and dress, he recognized the two of them might share something in common. The second he heard the guy call Anson, “daddy,” he was sure of it.
Almost all of the men worked for the local university in the next town over. His mother worked at the university’s main library, but her friends were from all over campus—professors in various subjects and older grad students. Most of them were closer to his mother’s age, but at twenty-eight, Jereme was the nearest to his own. He taught at the scho
ol while working on his doctorate. His much older husband, Anson, was an attorney.
He and Jereme had a lively conversation. Eventually, they found themselves in a corner, chatting alone before dinner.
“If you don’t mind me asking—was it hard getting your family to accept the age difference between you and Anson?”
Jereme scoffed, a gentle smile coming to his shining, red lips. He cast a glance at Anson, and the smile grew some. “I nearly lost everything to have Anson in my life.”
“Your family?”
“One parent to this day refuses to accept our relationship. The other—well, it was touch and go for a while, but he finally came around. Luckily, my parents are divorced, so having one in my life doesn’t cause him much grief.”
“What happened that finally brought him around?”
“Time. You can’t force someone to accept what they aren’t ready to.”
“How long did it take?”
Jereme turned his focus on Noah. “These questions seem a bit pointed. Something tells me you might have an older man in your life?”
Noah blushed. “I did. My mom and Geena—they don’t approve. They pushed me to end it.”
“My mother didn’t approve of Anson and I, either. She used blackmail to keep us apart.”
“Seriously? That’s terrible.”
“She didn’t succeed, so it’s all good,” Jereme said before turning to regard Anson again. Anson lifted his handsome stare, meeting Jereme’s.
It was obvious they were very much in love.
Not that Noah necessarily believed in love.
“He’s handsome,” Noah said, speaking of Anson.
Jereme turned to smile at him. “He is, isn’t he? What about your guy? Do you have a sexy silver fox like me?”
“There’s a few strands of silver in there, I suppose—but it’s mostly dark.”
“How old is he?”
“I don’t know exactly. I never asked. Younger than my mom, but not by much, I don’t believe. Nearing forty, maybe?”
“And you’re what? Twenty-twoish?”
“I’m eighteen,” Noah replied.
“Well hell,” Jereme said. “You’re just a baby.” A smile grew on his lips. “I wasn’t much older than you when Anson and I got together. I was nearly twenty.”
“How old was he?”
“Thirty-six.”
“So the gap’s about the same,” Noah said, smiling. His smile faded. “Though, we’re not together anymore, so, it really doesn’t matter now.”
“But you want to be together with him?” Jereme asked.
“Yeah… but there’s… complications. It’s not all about the age.”
“Complications,” Jereme rolled his eyes. “Do I understand complications.” He grinned. “But honestly—I think the best relationships come out of those complications. If you can overcome all the barriers to happiness, then there’s nothing you can’t have together. But that’s only my opinion.”
A knock came to the door, and Geena rushed to open it. “Red! Harry! Hey love-bugs!”
Those two familiar names caught Noah’s attention. He remembered Brody bringing them up at the courthouse. He noted the two men entering the house and smiled. Geena introduced the pair to him before leading them on to say hello to his mother.
After that, his mother sent Parker upstairs with a plate and announced that dinner was ready for everyone else. The dining table was crammed with men—no women besides his mother and Geena—which he found slightly odd. Once everyone had passed the dishes and filled their plates, they dug in. The conversation was brisk and fast paced. Noah tried to keep up, but it was hard when the men all seemed to know each other very well. Once everyone was nearly done eating, his mother rose at the head of the table.
“You’ll notice this isn’t our usual mixed company for one of our dinner parties. While I love you all dearly and have had you all at this table before, tonight you were invited for a specific reason,” his mother announced. “All of you have been in long-term relationships with an age gap. I find myself in a situation where I need to understand how you made it work.”
Jereme glanced Noah’s way and raised a perceptive brow—then winked.
All of the rest of the men eyed one another, no one appearing to realize how to respond. Noah wanted to melt into the scenery and be anywhere but that room. His mother sat, her expression hopeful.
“How does anyone make a relationship work?” Jereme finally asked. “You know as well as we do, Stacey. You’ve put the effort in with Geena all these years. It’s no different than that.”
Some of the men continued to eat, all nodding in agreement with Jereme.
“But isn’t there a—I don’t know—a disconnect somewhere?” His mother asked. “You’re of different generations. Different mindsets. There had to be obstacles that wouldn’t have been there in a relationship with someone your own age.”
“Mental maturity varies. Someone your age might not be at the same level you are,” Harry answered. “I’d been through a lot in my youth. People my age were interested in frivolous things that I wasn’t. I couldn’t connect to guys my age. Of course, there was the stability and security I was also seeking—something I’d never had as a kid. Red offered those to me. He was my confidant. My friend. A sane voice. He had experience that he shared with me, teaching me. And he was smoking hot, to boot. I’d always had daddy issues.” He turned to Red, a smile on his face.
“Was smoking hot?” Red asked, lifting a puffy, gray brow.
“You’re still smoking hot, daddy.” He smiled and eyed Noah’s mother. “Thirty years later and I’m still his boy. I’ll be his boy forever. Can I tell you how we made it this far? Not exactly. It wasn’t an easy path. No one’s is. But we managed it.”
“My story is about the same as Harry’s,” Eric said. “I was young. Needed a strong hand. Someone to keep me on the not-so-straight and narrow. We’ve been together for nearly two decades now, longer than I was old when I met James.” He smiled. “There’s no one thing that kept us together—and certainly, there have been things that came up where we thought differently due to our age difference. But we were open and honest. We talked it through. And we came to an understanding, if not agreement.” The man glanced at Noah. “I think every young man needs a daddy in his life at some point, even if it doesn’t last.” He turned to Stacey. “I’m curious. Why all the questions. Someone in your life has met a much older man? And let me guess—you don’t approve?”
“I guess it’s different when it’s someone you love and worry about,” his mother said, eyeing him. “Plus there are complications. It’s not just the age-gap.”
“Complications are a bitch,” Jereme said. “Most of them are social constructs. Things we assume society expects of us, regardless if they’re right for us or not.”
“Explain?” His mother asked, lifting her wine glass.
Jereme sighed. “Anson met me when I was younger… before I turned eighteen. I mean, we weren’t close. Not at all. We barely knew one another. He and my mother… knew one another. Because of that, there was this… taboo that we were together. We didn’t start our relationship until I was nineteen. We were both consenting adults at that point. But there was this… stigma surrounding it. Society dictated that there was some moral gray area we were in, so it must be wrong. We sensed it was right. We had this intense, intimate bond. Why should I live my life without him because other people consider what we share is wrong?”
“So how did you get past that?” Geena asked.
“I ultimately walked away from my mother,” Jereme said. “We moved here, to get away from the noise of our past. We got a fresh start.”
“But what if that hadn’t been possible?” Noah asked.
The entire table turned to face him, and his face heated.
“Meaning you can’t run, Noah?” Jereme asked. “I have no idea what we would’ve done if we couldn’t have had our fresh start. It would’ve been tremendously hard
er. I’m not sure we could’ve made it—but every relationship is different. You don’t know unless you try.” He turned to Noah’s mother. “I second the every boy should have a daddy in their lives at least once suggestion, just so you’re aware.”
“We’re clearly here to assist with a family issue,” Harry said before turning to face Noah. “Why don’t you tell us about your beau?”
Noah’s face burned hot. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Oh, come on, sweetie,” Harry said, reaching over to pat his hand. “Your mom went out of her way to call in the cavalry. You might as well take advantage of our vast years of experience.”
Noah eyed his mother who only smiled weakly his way.
She was obviously trying to wrap her mind around his attraction to Brody. It was more than he could ever have expected of her. And he loved her dearly for it, regardless if he found a way back to Brody or not.
I love you, she mouthed before looking away, tears shining in her eyes.
He had to fight his own before sharing a scant bit of information about Brody to his very, very interested audience. Noah decided he’d avoid the specific details—or the fact that Brody was technically his stepfather. “So, I ran away from my father’s home a few weeks ago and showed up here on a Greyhound. I hadn’t spoken to my mother in over a decade and had no idea if she’d take me in. As I walked from the stop, I passed this gay bar along the way.”
“Oooh… was it the Village? That’s near here, right?” Jereme asked. “I love that place.”
“It was,” Noah said with a grin. “A guy had gotten off at the same stop as I had—and he’d aggressively come on to me. Then followed me in a car with a bunch of other guys. So, I used the fake ID I should not have and entered the Village to protect myself from becoming a statistic. I ended up meeting an older guy there that night.”
“Ohhhhh, tell us more,” Jereme said, leaning on his elbow and resting his chin on his palm. “Every sordid detail.”
Noah laughed before giving a much-edited version of “How Noah Met Brody.”
13