The Families in Rossford

 THE FAMILIES IN ROSSFORD

The Sixth Rossford Book

When it happened, all those years ago, when I knew what I had done I felt so sick. So dirty. There are moments now, years later, when the day is bright and everything seems so beautiful, and then I slip into that darkness. I’m in that day again where I did what I did. I want to die.

So that’s why I’m careful with us. That’s why I walked away tonight and won’t come back until after midnight. That’s why I keep my distance, always try to check my emotions, my lust. That’s why I always whisper, “Are you okay? Are you alright?” when we make love.

That’s why we can be friends, friends who sleep in the same bed, but why I would never be your boyfriend again, not in a million years, Dylan Mesda.

 

Dylan Mesda and Lance Bishop attempt to sustain a relationship whose trust was once so violently broken, but help is in the way in the form of young Elias Anderson. Brendan and Kenny attempt to keep their union alive while Sheridan comes to terms with the deepest love he has ever known while the second greatest love, Logan Banford, struggles to make a life as an aging escort. There are new people in Rossford as well: the dark and strange Maggie Biggs; young poet, Jonah Layton. Sean Babcock returns after a long absense to be reunited with the brother he harmed. Todd and Tara’s daughter, Maia, is all grown up. Laurel Houghton, so steady in life, is about to be made unsteady in love, and the childless Will and Layla will have their lives permanently altered by a trip overseas.

 

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ACT

ONE

CHRISTMAS TIME

I NEVER CARED ABOUT numbers on jerseys.

Now that I think of it, that’s not completely true. When he became important on our football team back in high school, a year after we had ended things so badly, I knew he was Number Seven. I would drag Laurel with me to games to watch him. I think she knew I was watching him, but she didn’t say anything, cause she’s good like that.

So, three years after ending things with him, and almost a year after ending it with Ruthven, I watch Lance Bishop in his shining moment, carry the ball across the field. It isn’t likely his college will ever be on TV again. He looks like such a man! I can’t help looking at all of him as he makes that touchdown. His thighs, his… you know, all look so strong. He takes his helmet off and his face is red, his eyes are so blue and his almost black hair is sticking up. He used to love me. He does love me. I know he still loves me. I know he’ll be home for Christmas—he isn’t on the sort of team that’s going to end up at a bowl—and I won’t just be looking at him on the TV.

Today Dad says: “Dylan, what time are you going to the train station?” And I answer.

But I am still remembering Lance is walking across the field and putting that helmet back on his head now.

Along with Ruthven and one of my really close friends, Lance is almost always on my mind. I can’t believe I ever thought he was dull or that he wasn’t enough or that someone was better.

    Letting go of Lance Bishop was one of the worst mistakes of my life.

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ONE 

COMING HOME

 “IT IS SELFISH, but I still wish you lived in the basement,” Fenn Houghton said.

“Fenn, I haven’t lived in your basement in years.”

“I want to turn back the clock, Brendan,” Fenn said as he lifted a finger to indicate that Brendan could stop pouring coffee.

“Well, at least for some things,” Fenn modified. “Or maybe it’s just because it would be easier to visit if you just still lived downstairs.”

Fenn poured cream into the coffee, and then stirred while he added sugar. Brendan took a cigarette from him and Fenn said, “Does Kenny know?”

Brendan lit the cigarette, and for a moment the light shone off of his brass rimmed spectacles.

“No one knows,” he said, his lips tight on it as he put the light down. Then he exhaled.

“Except you. Maybe Layla.”

“I hope we didn’t teach this to you,” Fenn lit own cigarette. “You know this will kill you.”

“Aren’t you fifty?” Brendan said with a grin.

“Oh, Bren, I’m on the wrong side of fifty.”

“My mom always said any side where you’re alive is the right side of fifty,” Brendan told Fenn, sitting down across from him. He was in light pants and his shirt was rolled up to his elbows. He had a light blue tie on which meant that he must be working today. But since he was in this kitchen drinking coffee, work must be late.

“Its just a consultation,” Brendan said. “There was this hit and run. The woman lost her partner. There’s a huge insurance settlement, but they don’t want to give it to her because their marriage isn’t recognized and, shit, I’m going to get it recognized.”

“What about you and Kenny?”

“That was random.”

“You’ve done five gay marriage cases this year,” Fenn said, “and you and Kenny… Not married.”

“Well, neither are you and Todd.”

“Or Layla and Will,” Fenn supplemented. “But none of us work on marriages. I’d just wondered if you were thinking about it.”

“Thought about, thought around it, thought through it,” Brendan told him. “Neither one of us wants it.”

Fenn nodded, and reached for the biscotti.

“Now I feel like I have to tell you why.”

“You know that’s not true,” Fenn said.

“Do you want to know why?”

Fenn considered this and said, “Well, yes. Actually.”

“I don’t know if what we have is strong enough for marriage,” Brendan admitted. “I haven’t known for some time.”

“Well, you all do break up every three or four years,” Fenn said, reluctantly.

“And then there was that whole business three years back when you all were in Chicago, and he came back here. And then you came back.”

“And it was never what it had been,” Bren said. “It was nice. Sometimes, with me living back here, us together a lot, it was flat out hot. But it was never what it was.”

“Is that why you called me?”

“I called you,” Brendan told Fenn, “because we’re friends and you haven’t been over in weeks. At least that was one reason. But this was definitely another. I wanted to get your opinion.”

“About you and Kenny?”

“About love and romance and what we have.”

“Well,” Fenn sipped from his coffee. “I don’t mean to be flippant and unhelpful. But… what do you have? When was the last time things were hot between you?”

“Like hot all the time?”

“Yes.”

Brendan sat back, blew out his cheeks and took off the glasses he’d been publicly wearing for about three years now.

“I’m embarrassed to say it.”

“Things with me and Tom were hot for years and then the last three got pretty dull before we split.”

“I always think of you with Todd. And… you guys seem to always have it.”

“Well, we do. But that was work.”

“Three bad years?” Brendan said. “You and Tom?”

Fenn nodded.

“Me and Kenny have been together… ”

“Hasn’t it been about eighteen years?”

“Oh, my God!” Brendan said. “Are you serious?”

“You were seventeen.”

“Crap!

“Well,” Brendan said after awhile. “We were hot for the first ten.”

He shook his head.

“I just don’t know. I love him. I love him so much. And the sex is good. I mean it really is. Sometimes it’s phenomenal. And… did you ever read Wuthering Heights?”

“Yes.”

“Well, there’s the part where Cathy says, ‘I am Heathcliff!’ Where she discovers that she and Heathcliff are the same person, are tied to each other. But… she marries Linton anyway.”

Fenn nodded.

“Well, that’s how I feel about Kenny. I always have. I feel like I know him so well, like calling him my best friend isn’t enough…”

Brendan sighed. There was a frown on his face.

“I mean… What do you call someone you’ve been making love to for almost twenty years. Whose body you know better than your own?”

“Usually your boyfriend.”

Then Fenn added. “Or partner… significant other.”

“The last two work,” Brendan said. “But not the first.

“I don’t want to be one of those couples that tries to get the spice back by doing crazy shit all the time, stepping out on each other, having three ways turning into just two really good friends who are dependent on each other. I’ve seen that, calling someone my boyfriend because he won’t leave and I won’t leave and sooner or later someone gets syphilis or AIDs or… tired. I want it to be good and call it quits when it isn’t. Know when it’s time to go. I want it hot… like Layla and Will. Or Dena and Milo. You and Todd or, hell, Brian and Chad.”

This whole time Fenn had said nothing. Now Brendan said, “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

Fenn smiled, sadly. “You did ask for my advice, didn’t you?”

Brendan nodded.

“The way you talk about Kenny is the way I feel about Tom.”

Brendan blinked at him.

“We had an affair. Once. After we had split up.”

“Yes.”

“It was so hot and I’ve often thought that if Lee and he split up, and if Todd was gone, I would go right back to him.”

“And you all would be a couple again?”

“Oh no,” Fenn waved that off. “God no.

“See, I am drawn to him. We are the same soul. I would have sex with Tom. I’m still deeply attracted to him. But even when we were back together I knew that as strong as those feelings were, I needed more to make… a marriage. A true love. That more is hard to describe, but it came with Todd. And… that’s the same way I felt… feel about Dan Malloy.”

“Oh,” Brendan nodded. “But I don’t know what that more is.”

“I’m not sure either,” Fenn said. “But you know when it’s there. I suppose you know when it isn’t too.”

 “I know,” Brendan agreed, slowly reaching for the biscotti and dipping it into his coffee.

“And with me and Kenny, it isn’t there.”

“Where are you going?” Dena Affren demanded as her son, bundled up in a black, puffy winter coat headed for the back door.

“I’m going out to make snow women with Brad.”

“Snow women?” Milo looked up from his plate at the breakfast table.

“They’re like snowmen except you need two more lumps,” Rob reported. “That’s why we like making them.”

“Your son has discovered breasts,” Dena said, dumping the coffee filter.

“Oh, Mom, I discovered them a long time ago. It’s just now I’m making them.”

Dena opened her mouth, closed it, and then, shaking her head said, “Well just make sure to take your sister with you.”

“She cramps my style.”

“Bud, you’re eight,” Milo told him, pushing a hand through his own dark hair. “You don’t get to have a style.”

“Besides,” Dena said, “you’ve been cramping my style for years. Cara!” Dena suddenly turned and yelled up the stairs.

“Here she comes,” Kenneth McGrath announced, looking down the hallway.

He put down his hand, and the little girl high fived him.

“As soon as your brother gets you bundled up,” Dena said, “you’re going out to make snow… people.”

“The ones with the titties?” the little girl said.

Dena’s eyes flew open and Milo said, “Rob, what have you been saying around her?”

“Nothing!” Rob protested loudly.

“Cara girl,” Milo lifted her up, “where did you get that word from?”

“From you when you touch Mommy’s.”

While Dena spritzered the last of her coffee and then swore, Kenny burst out laughing.

He stood up, holding his arms out for the girl.          

“I tell you what?” he told them, “I’ll get Cara dressed for outside.”

When Cara was dressed and Milo and Dena were still looking at each other like they wanted to laugh, Rob held his hand out for his little sister and she caught it.

“If you are good, I will let you roll the snow tits.”

“Wow,” Kenny shook his head as Dena closed the door on her children.

“That’s priceless.”

“Maybe one day you and Bren?.”

“Maybe one day me. Maybe one day Bren,” Kenny said. “I don’t think me and Bren.”

Dena and Milo looked at him.

“Do the two of you ever… Do things ever get boring?”

“They never really got that interesting,” Dena folded her towel and sat down beside her husband who said, “You’re a bitch for that.”

“I know,” Dena told him, and smiled.

Then she said to Kenny, “Are you and Bren getting bored?’

“We’ve been bored.”

“Have you talked about it?” Milo said.

“Not with each other.”

Milo shrugged.

“Sometimes,” Dena said, “your partner is the last person you want to talk to.”

“What about spicing it up?” Milo suggested.

Dena looked at Kenny very carefully.

“Or is it beyond spice?” she said at last.

“When we were teenagers it was great. And even in the twenties. But as a grown up couple… we aren’t a couple.’

“You’ve grown apart.”

“No, Milo. Damn,” Kenneth said. “That’s so fucking stupid. Are you watching Oprah or something? We didn’t grow apart. We just grew into something that… isn’t a couple anymore.”

 

In Milo’s car, on their way to Layla’s, he said, “You’re my best friend.”

“I know,” Kenny said.

“And as long as I’ve known you, you’ve been with Bren.”

Kenny nodded.

“Now…. It used to be so hot. You guys were so… like the same thing. Like brothers… who fucked.”

Kenny raised and eyebrow and stared at his friend.

“And you know what? You’re still like brothers who fuck. But… That passion… I just thought you all kept it to yourselves or something. But you’re right. It’s gone.”

Kenny only nodded.

“So, what is it that you want?” Milo asked him.

“To fall in love. To be in love again. A grown up love. I don’t know what that is. Like you and Deen. Only gay.”

Now Milo snorted.

They were silent at the red light, and then the drive down Dorr Road.

“Last thing.”

“Yeah, Miles?”

“Well, what you got with Bren is nice. I mean, when it’s nice it usually takes seeing something better to know you want out.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean have you met somebody?” Milo said, baldly.

Kenny turned away to look out the window as the shops on Dorr Road passed by.

“That’s what I thought,” Milo told him. “You need to talk to Bren.”

 

“Well, the two of you look weird as hell,” Layla said when she opened the door for them.

“Come on in. I just need to get my coat.”

As they stepped in, Layla Lawden amended, “It’s not that you look weird as hell. You look like the cats who ate the canary. But…” she looked from Milo to Kenny, “like you don’t like the fact that you ate the canary. Did the canary taste bad?”

“I can’t make sense of her when she’s like this,” Milo said to Kenny, and shrugging, Layla said, “Well, let’s go.”

 

Halfway down Ferren Street she said, “You’re not going to tell me, then?”

“There is really nothing to tell,” Kenny said.

“Is it about Dena?” Layla said.

“Layla!” Milo could not spare her a glance because he was driving.

“Then it must be about Bren. Is it about about Bren?”

When neither one of them said anything, Layla said, “It’s alright. I’ll figure it out eventually.”

“There’s nothing to figure out,” Kenny insisted.

Layla Lawden shook her head.

“Um um,” she disagreed. “I think that’s some bullshit.”

When they arrived at the airport, they headed for Terminal Nine. Walking between Milo and Kenny, Layla reflected that Rossford Airport was the most barren thing she’d ever seen, and if not for the fact that Will had a plane coming in today, she wouldn’t have believed planes actually came here. She’d had a toy airport, a Play Skool one with little people whose round bodies fit into the seats and a fat little plane she could whiz through the living room. Well, that was damn near thirty years in the past, but that little toy is what she thought of when she thought about Rossford Airport.

“Sheridan!” she said, suddenly.

Waiting for them beside Logan Banford, in Terminal Nine, was Sheridan Klasko. He and Logan were wearing Buddy Holly spectacles because, firstly, their sight wasn’t getting any better, but secondly, someone had died and made the spectacles sexy. Layla supposed the Someone was Buddy Holly.

“Lay!” Sheridan came forward to hug her.

“What are you doing here?”

“I guess the same thing you are. Waiting for Will.”

“Hey, Logan,” Layla greeted the model.

“Layla, how goes it?”

She shrugged.

“I can’t complain.”

“You’re a poet. If you did, you would do it poetically.”

“How is the modeling life?”

Logan stuck out his tongue and made a noise.

“Its better than it was. I actually think I’m doomed to be a fitness instructor.”

“There are worse things,” Kenny threw in. And then he said, “Aren’t there?”

“Yes,” Logan told him. “And I’ve done them.”

“Shush, guys, what is that?”

Layla put a hand to her ear and the announcer said, “Flight 515 arriving at Gate Nine from Atlanta, at Gate Nine from Atlanta.”

“Well, here he comes then,” Sheridan said.

“Not that I mind,” Layla began, “but if you were coming to get him, Sher, why am I here?”

“I just talked to him last night,” Sheridan said, “and told him I would be here.”

“Do you think it’s possible Will forgot that he asked us to come get him?” Milo turned to Kenny.

“It’s not just possible, it’s probable, and it seems to be exactly what happened.”

“I was going to give Dylan a ride here too,” Sheridan expanded.

“What, Dylan was coming to pick up Will?”

“No,” Logan told Layla. “He was coming to pick up his friend Lance from the bus station.”

“We offered to give them a ride back into town.”

“Well,” Layla said, smiling to herself. “I can’t imagine they’d want anyone else there for the stuff they’ll probably get up to on their reunion.”

“Wow, Lay,” Kenny said. “And aren’t they supposed to be just friends?”

“I don’t involve myself in the lives of the under twenty,” Layla told him. “I just don’t think Dylan and Lance were ever really platonic—”

But she screeched now, because in the small pool of people coming toward them was Will.

She went past them all and took his travel bag before flinging herself on him.

“Not-wife! It’s good to see you,” he flung an arm around her. “How’s my girl?”

She kissed and said, “I didn’t think I could miss you so much.”

The shaggy haired scientist beamed down at Layla, and then she said, “And look who else is here?”

“Oh, my God!” Will lamented. “I forgot.”

“You really are becoming an absent minded professor, Brother,” Sheridan swatted Will on the back of the head.

Rubbing his head and making a face, Will said, “And you’re becoming Buddy Holly.”

“Is it a good look?”

Considering, Will said, at last, “No.” And then looking at Logan he added, “Not for either of you.”

Everyone burst out laughing as Will shrugged and Layla, hooking her arm in his, walked down the concourse.

“Everyone home,” she said. “In time for Christmas.”