Things Turn
Conclusion
The screen door to the porch opened and Paul turned from his contemplation of the night. Matty came out to sit beside him.
“Hey.”
“Hey, yourself,” said Paul.
“Remember when we used to sit out on the stoop, at the old house and wait for Dad to come home?” Matty said.
“You and Claire were so little then.”
“He’d be late all the time. Later and later. Sometimes not come at all. Mom had the sense not to worry, not to come out.”
“No,” Matty admitted. “And then I remember we waited and we waited, and he just didn’t come back. We didn’t know it was the last time.”
“I don’t remember when the last time was.”
Matty said, “It was the thirtieth of March. I remember that. March twenty-ninth was the last time we would see him. He never came back.”
The brothers sat on the porch steps, quiet for a while. In the distance a truck rumbled down the road. Finally Matty spoke.
“Noah is one of the best guys in the world. If you’re going to do something crazy, you need to really, really think about it. Because Kirk is one of the best guys too.”
“I never even thought about gay people or you being gay or any of that till you came back from California. And now I’m so used to it. You and Kirk look so right together, Bro. You can’t screw that shit up. At least not without a very good reason.”
“You’re right. Of course you’re right,” Paul said.
He chuckled.
“What?”
“Lust. It’s funny. I thought that me and Noah were such a good idea because of something I saw for a moment and now…” he just shook his head.
“No, it’s Kirk. I’m so lucky with him. It’s always been Kirk.”
“So do we start with your story, or with mine?” Carol said.
“Oh, I don’t really have much of a story,” Mathan told her.
“Some people say everyone has a story.”
“Some people say Taco Bell is Mexican food.”
Carol shrugged. “Still, I bet there is far more to you than you think, or for that matter, than that girl thought.”
“I…” Mathan began, opening and closing his hands before him as he walked, “I am tall. I am the tallest member of my family.”
“Well, the Houghtons aren’t the tallest people, no.”
“And I am always the calm one,” Mathan said. “I’m calm and steady and that’s pretty much what I can say about me. That’s all.
“The truth is I’m just not that interesting.”
“What?”
“Someone once told me,” Carol said, “that it was more important to be interested in life, than to always try to be interesting. Everyone wants to be so interesting. They’re bored because they don’t pay attention. And as far as I’m concerned, that’s the reason they’re boring. I learned to stop being interesting by the time I was twenty-five.”
Mathan snorted, then quickly put his hand to his mouth.
“What?” Carol said.
“Nothing. Only… I’m not twenty-five, yet.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty two.”
“Oh,” Carol said. “I must have been about twelve when you were born.”
Neither one of them said anything for a while, then, as they neared the old brown house where Dena and Milo stayed, Mathan said, “Well, this is it.”
“Are you coming in?”
“Not right now,” Mathan said. “I have to be up early.”
“Will I see you again?”
“I’m sure you will.”
“I would like to see you again,” Carol said with a little more force in her voice.
Mathan seemed to have not caught on, and then he said, “Oh… I… Oh. Well, yes. Well, what about breakfast?”
“Early,” she assessed, “but with none of the commitment implied by dinner. Sure. Breakfast it is.”
“Tomorrow morning then? Eight?”
“Yes,” Carol decided. “Yes.”
When Todd came out of the bathroom, brushing his teeth, Fenn was sitting on the bed with his open journal on his lap. The pages were largely blank. Fenn was too tired for writing.
“Hurry up and gargle so you can come to bed. I need this day to be over.”
Todd chuckled with his foamy mouth and, in his Jockeys, walked back to the bathroom, spat, and then Fenn heard him gargling. A moment later he came back to bed and sat down beside Fenn, who yawned.
“Do you think we should check up on Dylan?” Todd asked.
“No. He’s reached his limit of pulling shit,” Fenn said. “He knows better.
“Oh, Todd, what next?” he lamented, turning the light off. “I’m too old for this, and it doesn’t seem like shit’s going to get any easier.”
Todd turned his light off and fell back into bed beside Fenn.
“What can I do?” he said.
“You,” Fenn said, turning to him and placing his head on Todd’s chest, “can squeeze me incredibly tight, and by your amazing powers of osmosis make it all go away.”
“Like that?”
“Yes,” Fenn said, delighted. “That’s it.”
Neither one of them said a thing, and then Fenn said, “That fool. Those fools.”
“Hum?”
“Dylan has no idea. He doesn’t know anything about this.”
“By this you mean being old?”
“By this I mean knowing your lover will be here and having someone who stays in this bed night after night for years, and who you want even more than when he was twenty.”
“You want me more than then?”
“I’d say you look the same, but you actually look better, and you still make me want you.”
“You keep saying that,” Todd murmured, pulling Fenn closer, “and we’ll never have any trouble.”
“And, not only that, but over the years you’ve gotten that other power.”
“What? The power to squeeze you and make it all go away?”
“Yes,” Fenn said. “That’s the one.”
Upon waking, Meredith was immediately conscious of her breasts. She never slept without a top, and now the bed sheet touched her bare nipples. She was completely naked.
Beside her, back to her was Kip, curled in a fetal position. The wings of his shoulders were sharp, and his ass was covered in a light dusting of hair. He snored softly. Meredith pulled the blanket over them, and tried to lie still before realizing she didn’t feel comfortable at all. She had to go to the bathroom, that was it. She sat up, reaching for her clothing, assembling enough of a wardrobe to go down the hall.
When she came back, she stood in the bedroom and looked at Kip. His mouth was a little open and he was sleeping on his hands. She could not climb back in that bed. She had to go.
“You just can’t leave without a note,” she told herself. Meredith went to her purse and dug around until she found a scrap of gum and lipstick scented paper, and then she had to find a pen. She quickly scribbled on it, needing to get this written before he woke up. She pushed the note onto his pillow, and then she was gone.
SHERIDAN WENT TO ANSWER the door and was surprised to see Meredith standing before him in yesterday’s clothes.
“Where’s Logan?” she said.
“He’s gone to LA for a photo shoot.”
Meredith could tell her friend was about to go on about how proud he was, but she didn’t have time for this, so she just pushed ahead and said, “That’s good. That’s good. I don’t think I could take it right now if anyone else was around.”
“Meredith, what’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong,” Meredith began, her voice trembling, “is that I used to be a very sensible girl. I used to make some fucking sense.”
Sheridan only nodded.
“People used to count on me to do the intelligent thing.
“I went to Kip’s last night. I slept with him, and then I got up and ran away, and now I’m here, and he’s at home wondering what’s going on, and Mathan is gone, and everything’s crazy.”
Suddenly Meredith began to cry.
Sheridan knew her too well too walk over and hug her. He just stood there, quiet.
Meredith took the back of her hand across her face before lamenting in frustration:
“I don’t know who the fuck I am anymore.”
We Will Return to Rossford Next Week. for Now, It's Time to Return to Westrial
