The City of Rossford

BRENDAN WAS THINKING ABOUT THIS, reflecting on the past this Thanksgiving morning, after he had showered and turned on the furnace. He wanted it not to be cold. He wanted to think that it was just a little bit of snow and winter wasn’t coming but he couldn’t believe that anymore. He came out of the shower, towel around his waist, splashing on aftershave, proud of the little soul patch he’d grown. These days it was the only thing making him feel remotely sexy. He wondered if maybe they should have broken up again. Not because things were bad, but simply because things weren’t at all. Because he felt single all this time.

“What if the only reason I’m with him…?” Brendan wondered, “is because I don’t know how to be with anyone else?”

LIFE HAD BEEN HAPPY when he moved into the basement apartment on Versailles Street, but it was hard as well because there was none of the worry over what his family felt, or his job at Martin’s to distract him. When Fenn saw this, he put Brendan to work in the theatre, and that night Kenny came to the show.

“Kenneth?”

“You’re the only one who ever called me Kenneth.”

Brendan was carrying a stack of gowns and he laid them down.

“How are you?”

“Better now. Better now that I’m looking at you.”

“Right?” Brendan said.

Kenneth stood looking at Brendan looking at him, and then he said, “You wanna go out? Get some food or something?”

“Yeah,” Brendan said. Then he remembered. “Oh! I need to put these robes back. Hold on.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Kenny sat down, stretching his legs. “I’ll be right here.”

In the back room Brendan hustled to hang up costumes, and Tara Veems sidled up beside him.

“Brendan?”

“Uh…. Yeah?”

“I notice you’re in a hurry.”

“Uh, not really…. Just…”

“Kenneth McGrath is out there.”

“He is? I mean… He is.”

“Brendan,” Tara said gently.

“Yeah?”

“Give me the costumes.”

“Huh?”

“Give me the costumes,” Tara repeated slowly, with a smile. “And go.”

“So, yeah…” Kenny said, running his finger around the rim of his glass.

“That’s what’s going on in Indianapolis. Was going on.”

“Was?”

“I don’t know that I’ll stay much longer. I don’t know I’ll be able to.”

“I was just thinking how I wished I’d gone to Indy with you. When you said I should.”

“Well,” Kenny frowned. “I wish you had too. But on the other hand, you did the right thing. For you. I mean, you followed me to college. You stayed with me four years.”

“Why’d you come back tonight?”

“To see you.”

“You came for your family,” Brendan said, putting the napkin down.

“No, stupid. I was… in my crappy apartment, feeling crappy, wondering about you. And finally I thought, fuck it.”

“And drove three hours?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, shit,” Brendan said at last, looking pleased.

“I miss you. I’ll always drive three hours for you.”

Brendan thought for a moment. He thought about what he’d been thinking about since he first saw Kenny, the red hair, his thick shoulders, his full torso, the firmness of him that had always made Brendan tremble.

“You wanna come home with me tonight?” he said.

Then, “I’m not saying we have to think beyond tomorrow. Or tonight. But… tonight.”

“Yes,” Kenny said.

Brendan opened his mouth again, but Kenny raised his hand to signal for the check.

“Yes,” he said again.

In the morning, Brendan heard Sam Cooke and Lou Rawls singing:

You know I’ll always

be your slave

until I’m buried

buried in my grave, oh oh yeah

bring it, bring it on home to me

yeah! Yeah!

Yeah!

Brendan turned on his side and saw Kenny coming back into bed, the milkiness of his body lightly covered in freckles. Kenny climbed back into the bed that had the smell of them, of sweat and heat and he said, “You gotta go to the bathroom or anything?”

“Yes,” Brendan discovered, and rolled out of bed, but not before Kenny ran a hand over his ass. When Brendan came back from the bathroom, Kenny sprang, his mouth on him, his thick arms around him, belly pressed to him. Instantly Brendan was in it too, and they kissed and wrestled back and forth. Brendan felt Kenny pull his face down and kiss him roughly, and then he turned Kenny over and kissed him all over his body, took his sex in his mouth, kissed him up and down his legs and up again. They lay side by side now. With a gentle pressure of fingers, Kenny turned Brendan on his back and then sat across him. Kenny’s thighs and buttocks were so firm, so hot on him, and Kenny rose up and descended, expertly drawing him in.

“Does this mean…” Brendan began. “That we’re together again?”

He moaned as he felt himself inside of Kenneth and Kenneth moaned too. They were like that, in silent bliss for a second, and then Kenny leaned down and kissed his face. He took up the slow rhythm. They took it up together, moaning and moving into the sunrise and the new day.

“Baby,” Kenny said as he fucked him, “it means we were never apart.”

THERE WAS A KNOCK AT THE DOOR.

“Hold on!” Brendan called, moving around the little apartment. “I need to… let me find a shirt.”

“Forget the shirt, open the door.”

Brendan stopped at the sound of the longed for voice.

Of course he had no pants on either, but there was no dignified way to say, “Let me find some pants.”

He ran up the short flight of steps and opened the wooden screen. Brendan unlocked the door and stood before him in nothing but a towel.

“You… must have heard my thoughts,” Brendan said, all the sad thoughts, all the fears disappearing. He was surprised to feel himself tearing up.

“Well, just don’t leave me out in the cold! Let me in.”

He took the young man in the tan parka into the house. He shut the door, and even though he was cold and smelled of ice and snow Brendan held him to his naked chest and sighed.

“Kenneth! I hate it when you’re gone!”