While they drove home after the service, Todd was chatting about his upcoming bar mitzvah when Fenn’s phone rang and, startled, he reached into his pocket.
“You still haven’t gotten used to it?” Todd asked him.
He handed the phone to Dylan.
“Hiya, Dad. Yeah. Um hum. Yeah, I know. I went anyway.”
“What does he know?” Fenn wondered.
Todd shrugged and climbed out of the Land Rover. “This thing is getting old,” he murmured.
“It was getting old years ago.”
“Right,” Dylan was saying into the phone. “Right. I know.” He closed the door as he climbed out of the car. “Well, yup. Todd’ll bring me back to you in the morning. Okay. You wanna talk to Fenn? Um hum.” Dylan held out the phone to Fenn as Fenn fiddled with the side door into the kitchen.
“Well, Tom, if you didn’t have anything to say, then why— Shit!” Fenn screamed in shock.
“What?” Tom wondered as Todd burst out laughing, Having broken into the house, Layla, Dena, young Rob and Laurel Houghton sat in the kitchen, looking up at them.
“Seriously, people just walk into this house without knocking. Or even without us being here. I gotta go,” Fenn said. “Give Lee my love.”
“Don’t I have your love?” Tom said in a childish voice. Fenn hung up.
“When we got here no one was in, and it seemed silly to just sit outside and wait,” Dena said.
“Of course it did,” Todd, who was in suit and tie, said. “Did I tell you I’m having a—”
Dena put up her hand.
“Whatever it is, Todd, you can’t steal Layla’s thunder. She’s got something to show you all.”
“I don’t know if I want to now,” Layla said. “What are you talking about?” her uncle said.
“I just…” And then she reached for her uncle’s wrist. “Come’ere, Fenn. I need to show you something.”
He nodded, and she pulled him into the dining room.
“My Layla,” he marveled. “My Layla.”
And then he said, “Is that what you were babbling on about this afternoon?”
“See, all that time people wondered if I would ever do anything, or ever could do anything—”
Fenn, who was smiling, stopped smiling and touched his niece’s chin.
“No,” he said to her. “None of that.
“Whatever some people may or may not have thought, don’t you ever think I was in that crowd. Or that you ever had to do anything to prove you were something to me. We’re too much alike, you and me. But…” he nodded his head. “This is wonderful.”
“I wanted to show you. When we were alone, first.”
Fenn nodded, and then he said, “Well, shall we show the rest of the family?”
Layla nodded, and they went back into the kitchen. But the phone was ringing again.
“Well, now who the hell is this?” Fenn wondered.
Todd picked up and he sounded surprised. Now he sounded like he wanted to talk about the bar mitzvah, but again he was thwarted and simply nodded saying, “Yes. Well yes. Well yes.”
After a moment he called Dylan to the phone while Fenn and Layla stood at the doorway waiting to tell their news.
“It’s Ruthven,” Todd told Dylan.
Dylan looked surprised, and then Fenn thought his son looked a little angry. And then Dylan came to the phone
“Hello. Yeah. Yeah. Uh… later.” Dylan said. He hung up the phone. They all looked at him.
“I have to go upstairs,” Dylan said, in a surly tone. Dylan departed, heading up the stairs.
Laurel followed.
“What?” he turned around and said to her. “Just being a guy?” she asked.
He looked at her sharply, and then choosing to smile, said, “Yeah,” and went up the stairs. His cousin heard him shut the door behind him
There was a knock at his door, and Dylan Mesda debated answering it. He knew he’d better and was getting up the will to do so when it opened and his cousin Laurel walked in.
“Well, what’s the use of knocking?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “But have you seen this?” She handed Dylan the book.
On the bed, the handsome boy sat looking at it, confused and then he said, “Layla?”
“Her first book. She’s a bone fide poet now. The new Gwendolyn Brooks. the next Walt Whitman. You just missed the coming out of generation Y’s answer to Alice Walker because you wanted to sulk in your room.”
“Wow,” Dylan half ignored Laurel, sitting up and holding the book in his hand. He flipped through it slowly and shook his head. “Maybe I can be a musician after all.”
“You can do whatever you put your mind to. You’re Dylan Houghton Mesda. But that’s not the point.”
“Yeah, I know,” Dylan said, only slightly waving it off. “I was just upset.”
“You were more than upset,” Laurel said.
She approached the bed and then said, “Can I sit down?” “You know you can.”
“I don’t, Dill. You’re so strange to me. You’re so strange to all of us.”
He opened his mouth, Laurel cut him off.
“And you can’t keep saying it’s a guy thing. You shut me out, and then you shut Ruthven out.”
“I don’t mean to shut you out,” Dylan told her.
Because Dylan was aware that he wasn’t really looking at her, he turned and faced his cousin.
“Look, Laurel. I’m serious. I don’t mean to shut you out. I… I’m sorry. It’s just so much going on.”
“Maybe I can help you.”
“You can’t. I mean,” Dylan started over again, “I don’t need you to. I… It’s parts of me I don’t get. It’s so much.”
“Is it sex?”
Dylan turned so red he looked more angry than embarrassed.
“I’m sorry,” Laurel said.
Then she said, “Ruthven could help.” “No.”
Laurel looked at him strangely
“Ruthven just dropped me like a hot potato.” “He’s in college. And that’s a lame metaphor.”
“Firstly, I’m too tired to think of good metaphors. Secondly, he’s in college is really an excuse?”
“No,” Laurel agreed.
“Besides, he stopped talking to me before he went off to college. And I’m fine with that,” Dylan added quickly. “But, if he doesn’t want to be my friend, then he just shouldn’t be my friend. If he wants to fuck off, he should fuck off for good. I don’t have anything to say to him.”
Laurel nodded, and Dylan repeated, “I don’t.”
“Fine,” said Laurel. “Great. But you should come down and say something to Laurel.”
Dylan nodded. Like an old man he held out his hand and Laurel took it, pulling him up.
“I’m such a fucking mess sometimes,” Dylan said.
“Yes,” Laurel wrapped an arm around him, “But you’re my fucking mess.”
“Tonight my niece the poet is the star of the show!” Fenn announced. “And we’re ordering pizzas with everything on them.”
“I thought we were going to have pizza anyway,” Dylan said.
“You’re really batting O for three tonight, you know that?” Fenn said.
Dylan turned red and put a hand to his mouth, and Fenn did not smile at him, but he did put a hand on the boy’s head.
“What kind?” Fenn said.
“Or maybe we should go out to a restaurant?” Todd suggested.
“I’m a little tired,” Layla said when Dena looked at her. “Oh, good,” said Fenn, and he could see Todd visibly relax.
His stomach fall.
“But we’ll do it soon,” he continued. “And we’ll do it with Adele.”
“After we all pretend that she was the first to know?” Layla said.
“Of course.”
“I want sausage and pepperoni!” Rob announced and Dena reminded him, “This is Aunt Layla’s night, hon.”
“That’s all right, I want sausage and pepperoni too,” Layla said, sitting down in the chair and tying her hair in a ponytail. “But I want mushrooms too.”
“Mushrooms are icky,” Rob declared.
“Then you can pick them off,” his mother said simply, while Laurel, who had gone to get the phone book, came back in to the kitchen.
“I’ll Dial Gino’s,” Fenn told her. “And you call your mother to ask her if she wants to come too. Dylan, turn the lights on in the rest of the house. It’s getting dark.”
“Should we call Claire and Julian?”
“No,” Fenn said. “We’ll call them, and then they’ll call Noah and James and Paul and before you know it half the town’ll be here. I don’t really want that tonight.”
Todd got up, and leaning against the entrance to the dining room, motioned for Dylan, who was turning on the lamp in there.
“Yeah?” Dylan whispered. “You alright, buddy?” Dylan nodded.
“That whole thing with Ruthven?” “It’s between us.”
Then Dylan said, “I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t mean to sound so mean.”
“Sound so mean?” Fenn overheard, but at the look on Todd’s face, he shrugged, let Todd handle the conversation off to the side, and dialed Gino’s.
“You’re just being a teenager, Dill.”
“I’ve been a teenager for two years.”
“Well that was teenage light. This is the real deal.”
“He did call for you,” Todd said. “And I bet he’s really sorry. He’s really concerned about you.”
“Well, then…” Dylan crossed his arms over his chest. “Nevermind.”
“Dylan,” Todd tugged at his arm, and drew him closer, “Can I ask you a question?”
Dylan waited.
“You came out to your dad two years ago.” Dylan nodded.
“You guys didn’t turn me gay, if that’s what you’re going to ask again.”
“I wasn’t,” Todd said. “I was probably going to ask something that isn’t my business.”
Dylan braced himself, and Todd realized that he was bracing himself too.
“You and Ruthven? It’s just… I know you were friends, but… Do you have feelings? I mean… You know you can always talk to me.”
“We’re friends,” Dylan said. “Why do you have to make it gay? We’re friends. Or at least we were, and you just don’t throw friends away.”
Layla thrust her head in between them and said, “Okay, yawl, what are we talking about?”
“When you’re going on tour,” Todd said.
“I’m sure that’s a lie,” Layla said, “but I’ll pretend it’s true.” “Do poet’s go on tour?” Dena wondered.
“We’ll see,” Layla said.
And then she said, “I need to call Will.” Dena asked, “Are you going to tell him?”
“No. I mean, not really. I’ll tell him something happened, but I want to tell him the details in person.”
Dena reached into her purse and handed Layla her phone while her friend nodded and went into the living room with it.
Dylan was sitting beside Todd with his head down, and Todd gave him a light punch on the arm.
“I’m getting bar mitsvahed.”
“Do you think we turned Dylan gay?”
“He says we didn’t.”
“Well, he juggles between our house and Tom and Lee’s while Paul and Noah babysit him. Not to mention Sheridan and Chay. So… I’m sure the cumulative effect had something to do with it.”
“That doesn’t bother you?”
“Why should it? Unless being gay bothers you?” “That’s not what I meant,” Todd said.
When Todd sat on the edge of the bath tub, Fenn said, “I guess that’s the sign that you’re staying?”
“Do you want me to leave?” Fenn shrugged.
“You think people are naturally straight?” Fenn said. “Cause I don’t. I’m glad Dylan’s how he is and I hope I had something to do with it.”
While Fenn shaved and the hot water splashed in the sink, he said to Todd’s reflection in the mirror, “You thought Dylan was in love with Ruthven?”
“Well, it makes sense. I mean, Dylan came out two years ago, and how do you know you’re gay unless you’re feeling gay for someone in particular?”
“Ruthven Meradan is not the only boy Dylan has ever seen.”
“But he is the boy he was around a lot. And he’s older and all. It just makes sense.”
“Todd,” Fenn said, putting down the razor and shaking it in the basin, “Did it ever occur to you that maybe it was the other way around?”
“Huh?”
Full of a certain parental pride, Fenn said, “Have you seen Dylan? What he looks like?”
Todd still didn’t understand.
Fenn looking slightly put out with his better half, re-lathered a cheek and turned back to shaving while he asked:
“Had it ever occurred to you that maybe it was Ruthven who was in love with Dylan?”
“Well,” she could sense him moving away from his friends. his voice was quieter. In Chicago his hand was cupped over the phone and he was coming into the kitchen.
“What’s up, babe?”
“I just had to call you,” she said. “I just wanted to hear you.”
“Well… good.”
“That’s all you have to say.”
“I don’t know what to say in the face of spontaneous phone calls. They remind me we’ve still got it, and I think that’s great, so I say good.”
“How’re Bren and Kenny?”
“Bren’s stressed out from working in the city. My read on this place is it’s great to visit, but I sure in the hell wouldn’t want to pay rent here. And this is not the kind of lawyering he signed up for.”
“He needs to come back home.”
“When I talked to Kenny, he sort of implied that.” “He’s not happy?”
“Layla, I don’t really think either one of them is happy. And they’re at that married place.”
“The married place where you compromise and I compromise so neither one of us is happy, but no one says it?”
“Lay, let’s not get to that place.”
“I can’t get to that place, Will. I’m not your wife.”
“Does that bother you?” Will asked.
“Not at the moment,” Layla said.
Then she said, “Will, I’m sad for Kenny and Brendan. That’s really too bad. But that’s not the reason I called. And I didn’t even call because I just wanted to hear your voice. I called because something’s happened.”
“Something bad?”
“No, just the opposite. Something very wonderful. And I need to see your face when I tell it to you. So you need to get home.”
“Alright, darling. I want to get home.”
Layla heard something behind Will and she said, “What’s that?”
“Milo making fun of me. Saying I sound like a newlywed.”
“That’s not even possible.”
“Does it feel like we’ve been together a long time? Or does it feel like the first date?”
“It doesn’t feel anything like the first date,” Layla told him. “I don’t know what it feels like. I do know I want you back.”
“Say it.”
Layla chuckled and whispered into the phone, “I want you.”
Will groaned. “You know what that does to me.”
“I know,” she told him. “And we can take care of it as soon as you walk through the door tomorrow night.”
Todd followed him into the shower, and while Fenn rubbed the dryness and the day out of the curls of his head, Todd began to lather the rest of him.
“That’s the good part of being married,” Fenn said.
“That’s the good part?” Todd said, while his cloth traveled down and Fenn gasped.
“Okay,” he reformed. “That’s the good part.”
“There are other good parts,” Todd Meradan murmured. And so they washed each other and then, stepping out of the shower, dried, Todd bending his head for Fenn to rub him down. Todd caught his hand and took him to the bed, and Fenn’s hands linked into his hair, kissing his mouth and his face, pulling his head down to kiss it and notice the few greys. Twisting limbs slowly, they made love on the bed, Fenn’s hands moving over Todd’s back, over the still tightness, the hairiness of his ass, massaging his sex. With their mouths they loved all of each other.
“Is the fire still there?” Fenn inquired.
“It’s bigger than it’s ever been before,” Todd told him.
The love was more amazing now, not less. And when they made love, Fenn kneeling on the edge of the bed, receiving Todd whose feet were pressed to the floor, it was like those first wild times. Todd’s face pressed to his back, Fenn reaching
They lay sprawled out, on their backs, only the light from the bathroom illuminating the bedroom.
Fenn watched Todd’s long body, the black hair all over his white skin, his chest heaving, his fingers unclenched. Todd turned to him. Todd’s green eyes were black in this light.
“You know what I think?” “Hum?” said Fenn.
“I think we just made the fire hotter.”
The Lovers in rossford
up to clasp his hands in his hair while his lover pushed deep into the hot tightness that was still a mystery, still consuming after so long. Fenn’s hands slipped around, and they were on Todd’s ass. Suddenly Todd felt the invasion of a finger, of two fingers, the opening while he opened. In a rush, like a teenager, he spilled like a flood, rocketing out of himself, once and twice, corkscrewing, with a silent, sonic shout.
