The Families in Rossford

YOU AREN'T THE FIRST TO DO IT AND YOU WOULDN'T BE THE LAST

CONCLUSION

“So you’re dating one guy,” Merrick said as he sped down Aaron Street, and then turned onto the street where Jonah lived, “and having an affair with another?”

“Yes.”

“That is impressive, Jonah. Is that a poet thing, or a Muslim thing?”

“I think it’s a me thing.”

“If I had ever known it was this exciting being gay…”

“Well, if our friendship ever gets to that place, and you’re still excited, I’ll be glad to coach. Now, you’re sure you don’t see my father?”

“No… But in that car? Is that the guy?”

“Yes.”

“He’s even older than Keith Redmond. He’s like a real grownup. How do you do it?”

“Shush. Keith isn’t old. And neither is Sean.”

“I’ll sit out here,” Merrick said, “and make sure you get him in safely. If anyone comes I’ll honk or something.”

Jonah nodded, pleased over the agreed arrangement, and climbed out of the car. He went up the steps to the porch and made a gesture. A moment later, a tall, dark haired professional looking man in silver grey slacks and white shirt crossed the street and climbed the porch. Jonah opened the door, let him in, and Merrick pulled away.

“That was your friend?” Sean said, breathlessly.

“Yes.”

“Good friend,” Sean said.

“I agree.”

They looked at each other for a time, and then Jonah brought Sean’s face to his and began kissing him, feeling Sean’s tongue thrust into his mouth, the stubble of Sean’s cheek. Jonah’s hands went into his hair, down his sides. Sean pulled him tight and through his thin slacks, Jonah felt the hardness of Sean’s penis.

“Come on,” Jonah’s voice was breathless. He dragged Sean through the front room, through the dining room, down the hall, and then into his bedroom where, kissing him again, he pushed Sean a little against the door, shut the door, and then locked it.

“I am always getting into trouble,” Sean said, stretching out on his stomach. “And now, to make matters worse, you’re getting me into trouble.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Jonah told him, He was kneeling beside Sean. Now he stretched out beside him and ran his hand over his shoudler blade, down the small of his back, over the softness and firmness of his ass.

Lazily, Sean turned and looked at him.

“Well, I mean, aside from the whole business about you ruining your brother’s love life by seducing his boyfriend and then coming here and finding me.”

“Do you know that I was in high school when you were born?”

“Does that bother you?” Jonah said.

“Well, yes. A little. Sometimes.”

“Um…” was all Jonah said.

Sean sat up. “Everything about this is just wrong.”

“But you’re smiling when you say that,” Jonah reminded him. “Breaking up the love of your brother’s life is wrong. This is just strange.”

“And what are you?” Sean went on. “You’re not a boyfriend.”

“No. I’m not.”

“You’re not, strictly speaking, just a friend. You’re—”

“You’re awfully concerned about titles and where things belong.”

“Well, where do you belong?” Sean demanded. “What are we? What are you?”

“I’m me.”

“You are very difficult.”

“No,” Jonah said laying his body over Sean’s and placing his mouth near Sean’s ear: “You make things more difficult than they have to be.”

. Sean’s arms went around Jonah, and he smelled of salt and earth and his breath was milky. He whispered into Jonah’s ear, “Don’t take this the wrong way—”

“That already sounds bad.”

“Please shut up,” he sighed.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but, even though I know I have to go in a few days, even though I can’t stay, even though I would never dream of holding onto you—”

“You wouldn’t? You wouldn’t even dream about it?”

“I’m going to ignore that, and finish saying what I’m trying to say, which is I hope we’ll always be good friends. I hope we’ll always be close like this.”

Jonah reached back so that his hand was in Sean’s thick hair, and he moved around Seans’ head and then bent back to kiss him on the scalp.

“You have to handle this situation,” Jonah said. “And I am telling you that because I am your friend. You need to go back to that town and deal with things. You’ve run far enough. You’ve got a job. No one in Pennsylvania can help you anyway.”

“You think so?”

“You really think otherwise?”

“You’ve got a point,” Sean said, still holding to him. “You’re like a good councilor, a good spouse, and the two of us, you and me; properly speaking we are not a relationship.”

“Of course we are,” Jonah said. “Maybe it’s just that you should be improperly speaking.”

Jonah rubbed himself against Sean. They turned around, facing each other, and the other man, touching his cheek, said, “I was going to talk about Chad and about the past, and whine about all my mistakes. But on so many levels, talking about another man while I’m in bed with another man is so unsexy.”

A small, predatory smile crossed Sean’s lips as his penis stiffened. He kissed Jonah lightly, and squeezed his hips.

“You wanna be sexy right now?”

“Yes,” said Jonah, turning to kiss him hard. “I wanna be sexy.”                 

“Good Lord,” Sean murmured as he placed one leg over Jonah and lay his body across the young man. “You have seduced me.”

Right now he didn’t want to tell anything to anyone. Sean made him so happy. They’d made love in his bed and talked and laughed and made love again until his father came home, and then, in hushed quickness, Sean dressed, and Jonah put him out of the window, kissing him on the mouth, touching his hair, and sending him away. If he were going to stay, if he weren’t—possibly—going to try to make this thing work with Chad, if there was no Keith Redmond, then all he would think of was Sean. All he could think of was Sean. Surely he had to come back. He could smell him in the sheets.

Falling in love was so easy to him. He loved so many people. He loved Sean as he heard the car engine start up.

He loved Keith Redmond.

“EVERYONE’S HERE!” Dylan declared as he entered Layla’s house.

“Liam was telling me about London,” Rob said, coming up to Dylan. “You should listen, you might learn something.”

“Thank you, Rob,” Dylan nodded his head to the eight year old. “I think I’ll take you up on that.”

Brendan was in the living room with Sheridan and Meredith, and in the kitchen, Dylan could hear Claire and Layla.

Out of the kitchen, Liam on his shoulders, came Will, and he said, “It’s time for you to get down on the ground.”

“I agree,” the boy said, going toward the couch a little dizzily.

“Did you know Brendan was—” Meredith  began, but Brendan cleared his throat loudly.

Dylan tilted his head and Brendan said:

“It’s nothing. It’s not big at all. I’m just working on a project and seeing if it turns out.”

“Brendan Miller: man of mystery,” Dylan whispered mysteriously.

The truth was he had his own mysteries to worry about, so he went into the kitchen to find Layla.

“I haven’t seen you in a while, cousin,” she told him, putting her cheek out to be kissed.

“I’ve been working, working, working.”

“From what I’ve heard you’ve been dating, dating, dating, Elias Anderson.”

“Heard from where?” Dylan looked a little alarmed.

“Don’t worry about it,” Layla, waved it off. “Fenn told me.”

“Really? Great, Dad. Put every horse in front of a cart.”

“Did he really?” Layla said. “Is the horse really in front of the cart?”

“Whaddo you mean?”

“I mean, are you dating the boy?”

“We’re just…” Dylan began, turning red and twisting a finger in his ear. Then he said, “Yeah. He’s my boyfriend.”

“That’s great!” Layla clapped her hands.

“And just to be clear,” Dylan said in a low voice, “I don’t mean I’m messing with him. I mean he’s like my real boyfriend. My first free and clear real boyfriend.”

Layla said, “Fenn hated Ruthven. He got used to Lance. But he would be happy with Elias.” Then she added, “Not that it matters. But I know he hopes for it.”

“What about Elias’s parents?”

“Paul and Kirk,” Layla dismissed them. “They don’t have a fucking clue.”

Dylan sat down at the island and he said, “Liam’s a neat kid.”

“Yes,” Layla said, “he is.

“I never wanted to be married,” she said. “But I do now. And I never wanted children. Even when I knew I couldn’t have them. Not until I lost the first one—”

“I didn’t know that.”

“I don’t talk about it,” Layla said. “But even then, I was sad. But I was okay. And I don’t really feel much like a mother.”

“I think you’ll be a good mother,” Dylan said.

“I do too,” Layla said. “And that’s because when I was your age now, Fenn got you and he wanted to be a father even less than I wanted to be a mother. That sounds terrible,” she realized.

“It’s okay.”

“No,” Layla said. “I have to explain. Fenn never wanted his own children. You were a complete surprise. He did not see you coming, and he didn’t think he would be any good at it. But look at how you turned out.”

“That,” Dylan said with consideration, “is really nice of you.”

Layla came around the table and touched Dylan on the cheek.

“It’s really true of me,” she said.

When Dylan got home he came in through Fenn and Todd’s kitchen, as usual, and then went up the back stair. Their bathroom was over the kitchen and he heard Todd in the shower. He could tell because Todd was a loud singer, or hummer, and he walked down the hall to the main entrance to the bedroom and saw Fenn sitting on the bed, glasses hanging from his face, with a ledger open on his lap.

“There’s my boy,” Fenn murmured, looking up and smiling. He closed the ledger.

“It’s been a very long few days,” Dylan said.

Fenn patted the bed.

“I don’t like not seeing you for days,” Fenn discovered. “Well, maybe on the weekends,” he began. “But not during the week. I like to have my boy around me.”

“Are we still going to Chicago this weekend?”

“We are!” Fenn said. “I thought you might have forgotten. Or had other things to do.”

“Of course I didn’t, and of course I don’t,” Dylan told him.

The shower stopped and Fenn, sitting up, shouted, “Dylan’s here, so you might want to think about just walking out totally naked.”

“We haven’t gone to the city since November,” Dylan went on, “and we’re supposed to take a trip once a month. And I’ve got a lot to talk about.”

“Well December and January were too loaded and this still counts as February, so… But yes, Saturday morning. And then I will be all ears.”

“You’ve always been all ears. Tell you what, Dad, when you’re really old I’ll do the same for you.”

The door opened and Todd, tall and thin, chest covered in black hair, came out with a great towel wrapped about his waist.

“That’s my cue to go,” Dylan said, while Todd turned around and brought out deodorant and lotion.

He kissed his father on the cheek.

“Love you, Dad.”

He kissed Todd too, and said, “Goodnight.”

When Dena came out of the grocery store with Cara, she had to stop herself from screaming at the sight of her car.

At first she couldn’t believe it, but then, as she walked around the entire car she saw it. Someone had methodically scraped keys all along the sides of it, and when she reached the passenger door, she nearly screamed.

Methodically written on the door, in block letters, was—without exclamation point—the word:

B I T C H

“Mama’s what’s that?”

“That,” Dena said, breathing heavily as she opened the door, and placing Cara in the child’s seat, “is a very bad person doing a very bad thing.”

Dena closed the door, loaded her groceries, and then, putting her cart to the side, climbed inside the car and started it.

“Shit!” she said as it heaved, weezed and stalled.

She started the car again, lights blinked on, it came to life. Then the car was dead.

“Shit,” Dena muttered. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

“Mommy!”

“Not right now, Cara,” Dena shook her head. “Not right now.”