The Houses in Rossford

Layla came into the kitchen and was about to head out when her mother said, “The kitchen’s big enough for the both of us.”

Layla nodded, and reentered.

“I thought…” she began, “You looked like you might want to be by yourself.”

“No,” Adele said. “No. I very much do not want to be by myself.”

Layla got a glass from one of the cupboards, put it under the icemaker and watched the cubes tinkle slowly—they needed to call the repair man—into it before filling it with water.

“Your dad brought me to the hospital today,” Adele said. “It was just like old times until he said, ‘I got things to do. I can’t stay here all day.’”

Adele laughed and took another sip from the large wine glass.

“And then, I realized, it was exactly like old times.”

Layla smiled a little and sat at the table. Her mother did not turn around. It was actually easier this way.

“You know,” Adele said, “you start to wonder, ‘when did he turn into this?’ Into what you’re glad went away. When did he change? And then you realized it didn’t happen yesterday… Or last week. The first time you saw it was on that third date. But you wanted to ignore it. All the bad stuff started out as little stuff. You told yourself it would go away. Eventually. You told yourself—I told myself… a lot.”

“Mama, did you love Daddy?”

Adele turned around.

“I married a man called Hoot. Only love does that.”

“Do you still love him?”

“I’m a Houghton,” Adele said. “You’re a Houghton. You’ll learn we don’t cling to things.”

Layla frowned, and then she said, “I want to cling to things. I want someone I want to stick to. Grandma, great-grandma, you…. I…”

“Lula was never married, my mother wasn’t married long and apparently I can’t keep a marriage going either,” Adele said, plainly. “And you hope you’re not cursed in the same way?”

“I like Will.”

Adele smiled and turned to the window a moment.

“Well, now, that is news. It was good of him to come to the hospital. It was real sweet. Sometimes white boys can be a little sweeter. A lot easier to train.”

“Oh, Mama.”

“That’s what our men say about white women. Now, if it’s good for the gander it’s sure in the hell good for the goose, and maybe you and Fenn have learned something the rest of us need to.”

Then Layla said, “Mama, Dena and Brendan and I went to the motel Daddy was staying at. We went the other night.”

Adele looked at her daughter. “What for?”

“I wanted to see that other woman.”

“Oh, Lay-La! Good, Lord!”

“I had to see her.”

“Well, I don’t, and I don’t want to hear about her.”

“But I have to tell you about her. She dropped him off. We followed her car. To her house. She lives on the northside, off Wichita Drive.”

“Really?”

“And she has a son,” Layla said. “A son my age.”

“LeeLee, what are you saying?”

Layla scowled and finished her water, the ice settling in the glass as she sat there.

“Are you trying to say…? No,” Adele shook her head. “She must have been married before.”

“I saw him. He looks like Daddy.”

“I don’t believe it,” Adele said. “I don’t believe it. I won’t…” She shook her head.

“You do believe it,” Layla said. “Don’t you?”

They were both very quiet for a moment. Outside the thunderstorm was ending, the clouds rolling sounded damp and muffled.

“Yes,” Adele said.

There was a knock at the door and Tom was surprised because two yawns and a shower ago he’d planned to get to bed a little early. Part of him hoped that, impossible as it was, Lee Philips had shown up. How far would he have to walk in the rain to get here? And how crazy would Lee have been to have done that?

But while he was musing about this he opened the door and saw the incredibly handsome countenance of Brian Babcock.

“Brian… Come in.”

Brian did.

“Guess what?” Tom said, thinking that if only he could get a head start in the conversation he could stop Brian from saying whatever it was he’d come over to say. Why couldn’t he just have called?

“What?”

“Our struggling theatre… is no longer struggling.”

“Did Fenn fix that too?”

“Yes!” Tom snapped suddenly. “You’re damn right he did. Just like magic. His grandmother almost died of a heart attack today and two days ago we lost the star of our play and were wondering how we could pay for the theatre, and now we can pay for the theatre! Now you can have that raise you always wanted. Now we don’t have to cancel or postpone the play. God, Brian, can’t you be happy?

“He didn’t do anything to you. You did it—we did it—to him!”

“This afternoon,” Brian said, “hating myself, I went to confess the way I feel, all right, Tom? The way I am. I’ve never told anyone about what I did.”

“We did it together.”

“No,” Brian shook his head. “I decided that I was good looking and smart and should have whatever I wanted. I wanted you and Fenn was in my way. I decided that. I got on the high horse that every gay Catholic ever did. You know, we’re more Catholic than the pope to cover up for… the notable fact that we’re gay. And I thought I was so… good.

“So what was there inside of me that decided, that willfully decided I should try to seduce you?”

“Look, Brian. It takes two.” Tom walked away from him, leaving Brian to close the door. “I don’t like the idea of me as some dumb prey, and you scheming to get me.”

“You may not like it, but that’s how it was. I tried to make you want me.”

“I did want you, Brian. Please…” Tom shook his head. “I loved Fenn. I hate thinking about how I screwed that up.”

“You said the only thing between us would be sex. And I said I was fine with that. And we kept it up until we got caught.”

“Yes, Brian,” Tom said in a low voice, jamming his hands into the pockets of his pajama pants. “I was there. I remember it all quite vividly.”

“But I had forgotten. I made you want my body, didn’t I? It’s a nice body, isn’t it?”

“Brian, you’re a nice person.”

“But you don’t care about that. That’s not why we started sleeping together, because I was so nice. I was in love with you, Tom. I… I did not get what I wanted. Fenn could have stayed with you if he realized that what I set out to do is get you and make you love me instead of him. I never had you.”

Tom sat down on the couch, legs apart and blew out his cheeks.

“And I don’t have Fenn. And I haven’t for years. I’m over it, now. Why don’t you get over what you can’t have?”

“I can’t have you? Flat out.”

Tom looked up at him.

“Brian, when we start talking this way I just see how beautiful you are. You are, Brian. That’s the problem. I can’t sort my heart out from my lust.”

“In daylight, though? Whatever time of day it is you love—”

“I don’t wanna talk about Fenn. It’s not day, right now.”

“God!” Brian shouted.

Tom sighed, “What?”

“I don’t even like you! You know that? Tomorrow morning I won’t like you, and I know you don’t like me. I can’t work side by side with you and not care. When we’re fucking each other, in the moment, it’s like we’re in love. Feels like we’re in love, or… something. You, throw me off.”

“You came here so we could fuck. Did you?”

“No! No. I… I came cause I was mad. I… don’t know. I came because…. Whenever we do what we do I’m not lonely. I feel like there’s someone as screwed up as me….” Brian sighed. “I’d rather be screwed up in your bed than screwed up and… wound up, by myself.”

Tom didn’t talk for a long time. He sat, staring at the floor, his flesh prickling. He was tired of fighting Brian.

“So…” Tom said, at last, “you’re going to stay the night.”

Brian tried to laugh, “Two hot bodies, a free screw where you know what you’re getting.” He added harshly: “We both need to fuck.”

“Don’t say that.”

“That’s what it is, Tommy.”

“I guess.”

“You want me to stay, right?”

Tom nodded.

“Thomas Mesda, I have a bachelors from Curtis and a PhD in music theory from Loyola. Calves from hell from being a dancer. I was… I was voted most likely to succeed. I was a prom king. Every guy envied me cause they didn’t know I wasn’t straight. So I have pride. All right? I have some fucking pride. Tell me, ‘Brian, I need to fuck you.’ Or I’m out that door.”

Tom looked up at him, horrified. Brian looked back at him. When Tom said nothing, Brian shrugged and turned on his heel.

Lee Philips is not coming through that door.

Suddenly Tom shouted, “Brian, I need to fuck you, all right?”

Brian let out a deep breath. It made him shudder, like he was about to cry or collapse.

Instead he nodded his head, turned around and said, “All right.”

“Are you going to give me a cigarette or do I have to ask for one?”

“I guess,” Fenn said, turning over and reaching for the pack, handing one to Todd. “You had to ask.”

He leaned over Todd, striking the lighter and very briefly, Todd’s torso covered in black hairs all along his breast to his navel and the little trail that went south, was briefly illuminated in red light.

In the dark, smoke left Todd’s nostrils in a white, uncurling tendrils. He lay on his back beside Todd and Todd slipped his larger hand into and around his.

“Do you know… now that we’ve decided to keep it,” said Todd, “I’ve started thinking about what we’ll do with it. You know?”

Fenn didn’t say anything. He just nodded and crushed out his own cigarette stub.

“It’s just enough that we cover everything, but still have to think about… a future, about what we do with it.”

“Do you want to think about it right now?”

Todd’s smile cut across the dark as he stretched across Fenn to put the cigarette in the ashtray beside him.

“No… not right now. Right now I just want to do this all night.”

He kissed him. He kissed him again. They stretched and tied their limbs together like a knot and Fenn could feel Todd’s mouth against his throat. Outside the rain was still pouring. It was cool, but he felt the air thickening. He felt the thickness of Todd’s black hair, pressing his hand into it, stroking it, smelling the dampness. He kissed his ear.

“I want to finish that film,” Todd murmured, just as they were drifting off to sleep. “I want to do something with all that work. I want… I want to make something really good. Maybe this money will help.”

“Todd, anything you make will be good.”

Todd, whose head was still in the crook of Fenn’s shoulder, kissed his neck.

“Thank you for being a fan,” he said.

“I don’t want to think about the money right now,” Fenn said. “I don’t want to think about anything.”

Todd lifted his body up and kissed Fenn again, and then kissed the center of his chest and then down his belly. And then down further.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Fenn murmured as Todd’s lips kissed his penis.

The shape of Todd’s head looked up at him wickedly. He could just see the lines of his lover’s face. Todd grinned before speaking.

“Keeping you from thinking.”

Noah lay on his back listening to the noise against the wall.

“What’s going on in there?” he said with a laugh.

“I think you know what’s going on very well,” Paul chuckled.

“Paul.”

“Yeah?”

“No, I was just saying it. And all this time I thought it was really Johnny.”

On the other side of the wall, the bed began to squeak with a greater urgency and Noah said, “You think we’ll ever find something like that?”

“Noah,” Paul said, turning on his side, “we find something like that everyday. It’s our job.”

“Ah… no,” Noah said as it came to an end. “We don’t find anything like that. Because it is our job.”

“True,” Paul said at last. He sighed. “Aw… I was hoping there’d be more.”

“I am so horny,” said Noah.

“Noah?” Paul said, at last.

“Yes?” his voice was light across the darkness.

“Noah, I know we don’t have cameras or anything… And you’re not going to get paid. But… you wanna tie one off for old times sake?”

Noah chuckled, rolled off of his pallet, and pulled down his briefs, approaching the bed as Paul sat up on one elbow, mouth open, eyes shining from the semi darkness in appreciation. He pulled back the sheet and welcomed him in.

As Noah came into the bed, the boy chuckled, reaching for Paul’s waistband and he commented: “I thought you’d never ask.”