The Families in Rossford

“THAT’S STRANGE,” Will murmured as he closed his Blackberry and looked out of the window onto the cloudbanks.

“What is?” Layla said.

“Brendan hasn’t responded to half my messages, and now he writes something incredibly cryptic.”

“Well… the whole Meredith thing.”

“No, that doesn’t make any sense.” Will shook his head. “He isn’t even really that close to Meredith.”

“Well, did he say anything to me?”

“Probably, but I’ll bet it’s on your phone,” Will told her. “Which you never check.”

Layla reached into her purse saying, “And what did Brendan tell you?”

“He said,” Will began, “and I quote: I really, REALLY need to talk to you.”

---

EIGHT 

SOMETHING KIND

OF

PURE AND SWEET

“Jonah,” Kenny began, “where are you staying?”

“I really don’t know,” Jonah Layton told them. “I just got into town.”

“When did you get a car?” Sean asked him.

“When I needed it,” Jonah said in a tone that was light, but still cryptic.

“I’ve been staying with my niece,” Sean said. “You could stay with me.”

“What about Brian and Chad?” Jonah said, but this he turned to Milo, who liked him right away, and Kenny.

“That whole thing still seems kind of iffy,” Kenny reported.

“You know,” Milo said, “Rome isn’t build in a day.’

“But still, they’d probably erected an arch or two after five years!” Jonah differed. “Christ.”

“I did some damage,” Sean admitted. “And the truth is, I don’t have to be close with Chad, and I don’t know that I was ever that close with my brother.”

“Do you know if you’re going to stay here?”

“I don’t really know anything,” Sean said.

“Jonah,” Kenny said. “For reasons I don’t want to get into, there is plenty of room in this house, and you are certainly welcome to stay.”

“Kenny, that’s really good of you, and I can’t say I won’t take you up on that offer. All I can tell you is, if I were in your position, someone showing up out of the blue would annoy me, and there is already a little room on Meridian I saw.”

“When are you going?” Sean asked.

“I really don’t know,” Jonah told him. “The first thing on my mind was finding you. Now that I have…”

“Let’s go out for a drink,” Sean caught his hand. “And talk about us.”

“That,” Milo turned to Kenny, “is a hot line. I think I might drop that on Dena when I get home.”

But Jonah was still looking at Sean, considering this invitation, and he nodded, slowly and said, “Yes. Alright.”

Kenny and Milo walked them to the door, and Sean said, goodnight, breathlessly, and apparently with eyes for Jonah, who seemed, though very grave and together, possible younger than Sheridan and Merideth.

“Thank you,” Jonah was courtly, and as Kenny closed the door and watched them head down the street, Milo said, “That guy’s got class.”

He was quiet a little longer before saying, “I need to get going, Ken. Are you going to be alright, here?”

“Why wouldn’t I be alright?”

The answer to that question was too easy, and Milo said, “I’ll give you a buzz in the morning, alright?”

“Yeah,” Kenny said. “Cool.”

Milo opened his arms, and he and Kenny embraced, Milo squeezing him, and then Milo Affren turned around and went out the door. When he was gone, Kenny double locked the house and then began drawing the curtains, walking around, securing the whole first floor before his nightly retreat upstairs.

He was turning the lights of, leaving one on in the kitchen over the stove, leaving a living room light on before the curtained picture window that looked out onto the street when he heard a tap at the door.

As a rule he ignored taps after a certain time, but he went to look quickly through the peephole. The form was familiar and innocuous and so he opened the door.

“Don’t just let me freeze out here!”

In faded jeans, face peaking from the furlined hood of an old parka, and his hands jammed in his pockets, stood Ruthven Meradan.

 

“I don’t know this city as well as I should,” Sean confessed. “I only really get the downtown area.”

“Do you think there’s that much more?”

“It’s not as big as Deerfield.”

“No,” Jonah agreed. “And Deerfield’s not that big.”

“What happened that you came for me?”

“I had thought that we were going to wait to talk till we had that drink.”

“Alright, if you want.”

“You’re more mellow than you used to be,” Jonah noted.

“Well, I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m forty now.”

“No,” said Jonah. “I didn’t notice. And incidentally, the dark hides your wrinkles.”

“You’re a very cruel boy.”

“Maybe,” Jonah shrugged. “Ah, here we are.”

“You’re staying there?”

“Why not?”

“It’s a Motel 6.”

“You are so… Are all you Babcocks snobs?”

“Yes,” Sean said. “And it’s not about me. It’s about why are you staying here when there are so many other nicer hotels.”

“Because this is a one night thing, and I don’t want to spend my money on a nicer hotel. Now get out. We’re here.”

“So bossy,” Sean commented as they exited the car and entered the parking lot walking toward the two storey motel with its fluorescent lit decks.

In the little office, Jonah told the old, tired woman working there, “I’d like a single for the night.”

“Thirty-nine-ninety-five,” she told him, and he handed over his credit card. She gave him the key and said, “Ice is at the end of the hall and there is a continental breakfast in the morning. Check out at twelve.”

They went up the steps, Sean taking one of Jonah’s bags, and the younger man walked ahead of him.

“Alright,” he said, three doors down the balcony that made the second floor. “This is the place.”

As Jonah opened the door and went in, Sean, following, put the bag by the chair, and pronounced: “Not so bad.”

Sean shut the door behind him and began massaging Jonah’s shoulders.

“What the hell are you doing?’

“I’m rubbing your shoulders,” Sean said, though he wasn’t anymore.

“Rubbing shoulders never means rubbing shoulders,” Jonah told him, turning around, “unless you’re rubbing your mother’s shoulders. Rubbing shoulders means let’s have sex.”

“It does not.”

“Of course it does. Given our record, I’m pretty sure it does.”

Now Sean had an erection, and he hadn’t realized it until now. He hoped Jonah couldn’t see it, but Jonah pressed against him, putting Sean’s back to the door.

“You get in a car and follow me here, and start rubbing my damn shoulders,” he said, taking off his overcoat.

“Lo-ooo-ook!” Sean stammered, “I was just.”

“Well,” Jonah continued, “We’ll see about that.”

“I guess we—”

And Sean’s breath caught as Jonah’s hand pressed against his erection.

“Yes,” he said while his hand massaged. He worked with Sean’s zipper and then, in a moment, he had Sean’s penis, thick in his hand. As he massaged it he murmured, “I guess we’ll just have to nip this in the bud. No, nip is far to harsh a word for this,” he reflected.

He went down on his knees and Sean felt his cock swallowed in Jonah’s mouth, his tongue swerving around the head, around the shaft, the suction of his mouth, pulling and pulling. Jonah’s hands worked with his belt, pulled his trousers down. Now they were cupping his ass, massaging, rubbing. A finger tested, and inserted itself in his buttocks. Sean was pinioned between two pleasures, caught up in the strength of Jonah Layton’s hands and mouth. Sean closed his eyes, opened his mouth and lay back against the wall.

It seemed to last forever, roll on roll of pleasures, Sean’s hands massaging Jonah’s head and, going through the rough softness of his short hair, and then he blinked and said, “I’m about to…”

Jonah pulled him harder into his mouth. Deeper.

“Jonah!” he pled. “I’m about to—”

And then he surrendered, ejaculating, groaning as he spilled into Jonah’s mouth, Sean’s body nearly doubling over as he convulsed. He felt utterly weak as Jonah released him and now he lay against the door.

But there was strength in Jonah Layton, and he pulled Sean to the bed and began undressing. Sean took his lead and the two of them lay naked together. Jonah handed Sean a bottle without words, and without words, Sean opened it, squeezed out liquid. There was strength in him again and he lifted Jonah and pulled him between his legs, guided him inside. It took all of five minutes. Their sex, so long delayed, was instant, and when it was done they lay side by side saying nothing.

Finally, Jonah was the first to speak.

“Now,” he said.

“Yes?”

“Are you finally ready for that drink?”

“Simon, is someone at the door?”

When his wife asked this, Simon Davis got up from his armchair, pushed up his glasses and putting his hand to his ear, listened.

“I think so.”

As he was getting up to go down the hall and answer, Adele walked out of the kitchen.

“Don’t just open the door. It’s late at night.”

“Well, then why did you ask me if someone was there?” Simon asked her.

“I’m just saying we have to be careful. There was this man over on the east side, and when someone knocked at the door, he looked out the peephole—”

“And someone shot him in the eye, and you and Fenn tell that story all the time, and I thought it was on the West Side and—”

Simon looked through the curtain and said, “It’s Layla.”

Adele shrieked.

“What’s with you?”

“She didn’t say she was coming home! I got her and Will a present. Let them in and tell them I’ll be right back.”

Adele went back into the kitchen and up the back stair. She went into her sitting room that she called the Woman’s Cave. It had been the bedroom she shared with Hoot and it never seemed right to sleep in it with Simon. They had taken what had once been Hoot’s office.

Sitting on the bed, Adele picked up the receiver and called her brother.

“Hello?” a sleepy voice began. “Adele, what the hell?”

“Your neice is home. Just thought you’d like to know.”

Fenn brightened, but said, “I thought she was supposed to let us know when she was coming back.”

“Well, you know Layla. Anyway, I gotta go, and you could come to the house if you wanted to, but you probably want to sleep.”

“I probably do,” Fenn said, though Adele believed that her brother was probably about to throw clothes on. “Don’t forget the present.”

“That’s exactly why I came upstairs.”

But as Adele hung up the phone, Layla entered and cried, “Mama! I come home from England, and you go upstairs and get on the phone.”

Adele was about to explain herself, but waved this off in favor of standing up and coming toward her daughter with her arms open.

“My baby’s been to England, and she’s back with all these stories, I’ll bet.”

“I’ve got a few. And I got something you’ll really like.”

“I got you something too. I came up here for it. It’s in the closet.”

“Oh, Mom, there was so much, and I kept thinking what would you like best when—”

But now she saw the expression on Adele’s face, and looked behind her saying, “You just had to follow me!”

Adele looked from Layla to the little brown boy who had appeared beside her.

“You brought me a child?” she said.

“No, Mama. But we did bring a child. Say, hello, Liam.”

“Hi,” the little boy said.

“Hello,” Adele said, uncertainly, looking at Layla for further explanation.

“He’s my present,” Layla said. “And we’re his.”

“I don’t—”

“Liam found us in England, Mother,” Layla said.

“He’s going to be our son.”

“Ohhhhhhh crap!” Brendan wailed.

Beside him, sprawled out, Sheridan said, “I’ll get it.”

“They know this is my morning off,” Brendan lamented.

“Stop being a cry baby,” Sheridan said, pulling on his boxers. “It’s your one unattractive trait.”

The knocking continued.

“Christ!” Sheridan shouted. “Bren, I’m taking your housecoat.”

Brendan nodded and rolled over.

Sheridan belted the housecoat, slipped on house shoes and left the little room to walk through the living space past Bren’s desk that was far beneath the ground level window. He went up the stairs and opening the door said:

“Shit!”

“Glad to see you, too,” Will told him. “And why are you in Bren’s apartment?”

“When did you get back?” Sheridan asked his brother.

“Last night. Can I come in?”

“Yes,” Sheridan shouted, backing into the apartment and walking downstairs, “Yes, Will,” he shouted, “you can come right in.”

Sheridan felt his armpits dampen and beads of sweat dot his forehead.

“Are you staying with Bren for a while?” Will said.

Bren came out of the bedroom, his pajama bottoms on, pulling a tee shirt over his chest.

“Will!” he said, much too brightly and hugged his best friend. “Will Klasko my very best friend, how are you?”

Will shook his head and said, “Why are you so weird? Why are you both weird? And why did you move your bed into the bedroom finally. The place looks nice, though.”

“Bren’s working on a book,” Sheridan jumped in. “And see, that’s his desk. We’re going to treat this like a living room and an office.”

“We?” Will said.

“Huh?” Sheridan played deaf.

“You just said we?” Will said.

“He meant we like…” Brendan began, “us.”

Will screwed up his face and looked at Brendan.

Brendan and Sheridan suddenly became very quiet and Will said, “Would somebody tell me what’s going on? And I mean right now.”

Brendan pulled his hand through his hair and it stuck up.

“When Sheridan says we he means we.”

“Well, that’s what you just said! And—”

Suddenly Will looked at his friend, and then at his brother.

“You stayed here last night?” he said to Sheridan.

“Yeah,” Sheridan said. “A lot of nights. Almost since you guys left for England.”

Will nodded. “And… the couch seems unslept on. Are you…? Are you all trying to tell me that—?”

“Yes!” Brendan shouted, looking up. “Yes, goddamnit. Yes! Me and Sheridan are sleeping together!”

Sheridan and Will both looked at Brendan and Sheridan said, pushing his foot out of the slipper, “That wasn’t the way I planned to say it.”

“Wow,” Will said. “I mean… Wow.”

Will sat on the edge of the sofa. “Did not see this coming.”

“I’ve been in love with Bren since I was twelve,” Sheridan said simply.

Will looked at Brendan.

“I’ve been afraid of hurting him,” Brendan explained. “And you.”

Will’s face had not changed and Brendan continued, “A few years ago, during the last break with Kenny, I wanted something to happen.”

There was silent agreement that saying they’d slept together in the past was probably not a great idea.

“I was afraid. But…Kenny’s over, and I can’t keep being afraid. And me and Sheridan make each other happy.”

“Don’t be mad, Will,” Sheridan said.

“I’m not mad,” Will said. “I’m shocked. But I’m not mad. And what if I was?” Will seemed to be coming back to himself now.

“Would the two of you govern your love lives by how I felt? That’s so stupid. Sheridan, you’ve made a lot of dumb choices. Logan…” he shook his head. “I know he’s your friend, but…”

Will looked at Brendan. “And you are my best friend, and you’ve always looked out for him. There is no man in the world I trust more than you, Bren. Only Sheridan’s grown. He’s really grown, and he doesn’t need to be looked after anymore.”

“I know,” Brendan said.

“But he needs you,” Will continued. “It’s odd, but… you two make sense, and Sheridan’s my baby brother and you’re the brother I didn’t get, so… Yeah.”

Brendan just nodded, still feeling shy and light, strangely off the hook.

“After all, Bren, I did come looking for you.”

“Oh.”

“I need legal advice, and I need you and Sheridan to do something else for me that will make more sense if you guys are going to be together.”

“Like what?” Sheridan said, sitting down beside Will.

“Like be godfathers,” Will told them.

“Me and Layla are adopting a son.”