The City of Rossford

To the east, where city grew scarce ran Tangerine Trail and Main. There were already two Main streets in Rossford, but this Main belonged to Willmington. Once Tangerine had cut through farmland; now on either side of it were all the shops that mattered, the Barnes and Noble, the luxury hotels where travelers came to stay, the Hospital that “was too far away from the city to help people who needed it,” Logan noted, and the Target and the Wal Mart and the Meijers and the Menards and the fancy restaurants. There was the Bed Bath and Beyond and the hull of the old Linens and Things which was folding over.

“Linens and Things… Things. See,” Logan noted, “they weren’t specific enough. That’s why they’re closing.”

He was in a bright mood, and he took them to the Seafood Shack. He had suggested the Steakhouse at first, but Chay insisted on fish.

The waitress brought them waters and asked what they wanted to drink. Logan said a pitcher of beer for himself and lemonade for Chay. There was no way to pass Chay off as twenty-one. He was so gracious with the waitress, flirting with her. She was halfway in love, and when Sheridan said it Logan grinned and told him, “I think I’m halfway in love with her too. And her sweet little ass.”

He blinked at Sheridan, “I love women, man. My mom’s a woman.”

Sheridan felt himself on the verge of asking something stupid. So he did.

“Do you… I mean, do you consider youself straight?”

“Do you consider yourself straight?” Logan mimicked in what would have been a mean tone if he wasn’t grinning.

“Shit’s not simple like that,” Logan said in a conspiratorial tone. “And you know it.”

He murmured more to himself than anyone else. “Anyone can stick his dick and a chick. But… to love women… Man, if this world only had dudes it would be a sad place. A sad place where everyone was terrified.”

First came the basket of steaming garlic biscuits, crusty and flaky, greasy on the fingers, and then the soups and the salads. Outside, while cars rolled by on Main, a light snow was falling, and when Chay got up to use the restroom after finishing his beer, Logan looked after the boy and said, “That’s the end of his drinking. He gets… one beer.”

“What about me?” Sheridan said. He felt like he was flirting.

“You’re a big boy, Sheridan. You can have what you want.”

Sheridan blinked, and his face went red.

“What made you ask Casey for a job?”

“I don’t know.”

“At a gay porn studio? For an escort service?”

“I…” Sheridan began. “Curious, I guess.”

“Chay told me you kissed him once.”

“A long time ago,” Sheridan said. “I’m straight, you know?”

“I know,” Logan said, beneficently. “I just don’t know why.”

That sounded so strange. Usually people had to justify the other way around.

“I mean, it’s not like you’re some lonely kid who doesn’t know anything about… well, the other side. So it’s sort of confusing, you see, that you… fuck all these girls? Right?”

“Well, you fuck all these guys, right?”

“But I like it,” Logan said.

“You do? You like it all the time?” Sheridan said. “You fuck the straight guys and you do it hard as possible cause you hate them? And you like all the guys you… do stuff for when you’re working?”

“Hey,” Logan said, putting a mellow hand up.

Sheridan looked around. He hadn’t realized how he’d risen out of his chair, or how his voice had risen. But there was lots of noise around him, anyway. So it hardly mattered.

“You got a point,” Logan said. “And just for the record, that last part…. When I’m working as an escort, that’s one thing. I’ve laid off of the whole hatefucking thing. I really don’t like myself when I do that. It just makes everything so bitter. It makes the videos violent too. It just… it sends out a lot of bad karma. If I don’t like a guy, we don’t do stuff together. I know it’s hard to believe but you can still make love—in a way—when you’re on camera with a guy who is just your work buddy. There’s affection in it. And there’s respect too. It’s complicated.”

Chay was coming back from the bathroom. He had on a deep yellow tee shirt and the bomber jacked Noah had bought him last Christmas was halfway hanging off his shoulders. His chocolate colored hair was tousled, and Sheridan wanted to brush it out of the way, the way he would do if they were alone.

Now he realized that Logan was looking at him looking at Chay, and Sheridan reddened.

“Shit’s complicated,” he mumbled to Logan.

When the knock at the door came, Keith’s heart trembled. It was knocking hard at his chest and his foot was doing that tapping thing. He put down the rosary, looked around his room and then left. He came down the hall, trying to be quick, but not before another knock came. And then he opened the door.

There he stood, tall, despite the cold, his jacket off so you could see his chest through his wife beater and the fine muscles of his tattooed arms. He had bright blue eyes, a wicked smile and a baseball cap turned backward as he chewed on his gum.

“You’re Keith?” he said, coming into the little house while Keith shut the door behind him.

“Yeah,” Keith said, nervously.

“I think I remember you. I remember you from a while ago. You still look good, man. I’m Logan.”

Keith thought he should be less nervous. After all, he used to do stuff like this all the time.

“Well… great,” Keith McDonald said.

“Yeah,” Logan agreed, slipping his jacket on the floor. “I don’t usually get to mix business with pleasure.”

Ten minutes later, Logan Banford’s jeans were around his ankles, his underwear around his knees, his tee shirt and jacket on the floor. Both men fucked with mouths open and eyes closed. Sweat ran down Logan’s back and beaded on his brow while he planted the bases of his hands against the coffee table. Keith McDonald’s black hair stood up on end as he gripped Logan’s hips and fucked him like a piston.

The lights in the church dimmed, and Meredith’s voice came from the choir loft, high and sweet.

Silent as a snowflake in the night

Holy is the spirit of this night

All the world is bright and peaceful

All the world is calm and joyful.

Spirit of love

And child of peace

Love unending

Which shall not cease

Peace my children

Of good will

Peace my children peace be still

On his lap, Dylan squirmed and put his arms around Fenn’s neck, half asleep. Sprawled out across Todd and Tara was Maia, her feet on her mother, her head on Todd’s lap.

Fenn looked about. Next to him, Tom was touch, touch, tapping Dylan’s head, lightly and Lee was whispering something to Danasia.

Fenn felt a tap on his back, and he turned to see Paul, a broad smile on his face.

“We’re all here,” said Paul. “Well, almost all of us. We’re all here.”

“Look,” Kirk pointed.

Through the church doors came Will, with Layla beside him. They were not touching, but they came down the aisle together, Layla looking around as the choir started singing:

The angel Gabriel

From heaven came

His wings as drifted snow

His eyes as flame

“All hail,” said he, “thou

lowly maiden Mary,

Most highly favored lady,”

Glo-oooria!

Fenn watched while Layla and Will came up the aisle and settled down in the row before them, with Adele and Simon who were sitting by Nell and Bill.

“Todd, get Nell,” Fenn said.

Todd tapped his sister and his sister turned around.

“Tell her to get Layla.”

Todd whispered this. Nell tapped Bill, Bill tapped Justin, Justin tapped Adele and finally Adele touched Will, who touched Layla.

“Fenn?”

“When are you going to start holding that boy’s hand?” her uncle demanded.

Behind him Paul laughed.

“Everyone knows you’re together. When are you going to make it official?”

Layla frowned at her uncle, and then she sighed and said, “Well, I guess you just made it official, didn’t you?”

The bells began ringing. First gently, and then more insistently, jangling. The lights of Saint Barbara were flipped on, section by section, until the altar and the gleaming candlesticks and the white cloth and the red carnations and the figures of the crèche were all illumined.

“Wake up,” Fenn whispered to Dylan. “It’s here.”

Dylan knuckled his eyes, and shaking his head he said, “I wasn’t asleep.”

“I know.” Fenn told him, lifting the boy off his lap and standing him on his feet while he dusted off his little suit.

The trumpets blared and programs ruffled. A thrill ran through the old church as everyone gathered their voices to sing:

OH COME, ALL YE FAITHFUL…

While they sang, James Lewis, who was managing the lights, stood with his program, more watching than singing while the procession, led by a little girl carrying the Christ Child entered Saint Barbara’s from the vestibule. Beside him sat Noah, with Claire and Julian Lawden.

“You guys go and get a seat,” he told them while the singing children in white entered. “I’m going to join everyone soon enough, anyway.”

“Well, we’ll join them when you join them,” Claire said.

Noah’s head moved around Claire to Julian.

“Is it just me or is she really, really watching me lately?” Noah whispered. “I feel like I’m on deathwatch.”

Come and behold him

Born the king of angels

Oh come let us adore him

Oh come let us adore him…

“You’ve been looking a little preoccupied, my friend,” Julian told him.

“See?” said Claire.

“It’s Chay is all.”

“He’s a kid,” Claire shrugged it off. “Just being a kid.”

“I think he’s a kid in trouble, and I don’t know what kind of trouble,” Noah said.

Claire didn’t say anything. Julian touched her hand.

“We had teenage years where we were just being kids. Noah’s just being a kid was different.”

“That’s right,” Noah said, looking at Julian with appreciation. “My mind is filled with all the things that can go wrong. Especially being with Casey.”

At the altar Dan said: “Merry Christmas, everyone. Let us begin this midnight Mass in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit…”

Unconsciously, they all crossed themselves while speaking, and Claire continued, “Casey and those guys are the safest people to be with. They won’t let anything bad happen to him. They’re like you.”

“I know,” Noah said.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Claire said. “I mean, when I met you, you were so protective and good because… you hadn’t been protected, and you’d seen so much badness. You were a little guardian angel.”

“Little?”

“Well, you are little,” Julian noted.

“You’re both missing my point,” Claire said. “My point is nothing bad’s going to happen to him with those guys.”

It was Nell Reardon—no, Nell Affren, who stood up to do the first reading. They were quiet while they listened to the clicking of her heels. The whole church was so still and so peaceful, and Claire thought that everything would be alright. The baby under her heart would be alright.

“The people who talked in darkness

have seen a great light,

upon those who dwell in the land of

gloom

a light has shone

you have brought them abundant joy

and great rejoicing

as they rejoice before you at the

harvest

as people make merry when dividing spoils

For the yoke that burdened them,

The pole on their shoulder,

And the rod of the taskmaster

You have smashed as in the day of Midian…

“You ought to talk to Casey,” Claire whispered. “He is an old friend. If something troubles you, then you ought to just go to him.”

“The word of the Lord,” Nell declared.

And the congregation rumbled: “Thanks be to God.”

As the organ started up above them, Noah’s face went quiet, and then he looked peaceful. He said:

“Yes… Thank you, Claire.”