More 38 Carson Avenue

I came downstairs one day to find Max smoking with an unhealthy looking kid with poorly bleached dreadlocks. They sat on the living room floor in front of the couch. The whole downstairs smelt strongly of weed and the front door was wide open.
“Max! What the hell,” I shouted and shut the door.
“I wouldn’t do that…” Dreadlocks said slowly.
“Shhh, it’ll give him something to do,” Max said to him. Dreadlocks sniggered.
“What,” I asked them. They smiled up at me.
“Come Tekeylay,” Max said patting the floorboards beside him, “you worry too much.”
“I do not,” I said weakly, sitting down. “I worry the normal amount. You’re just…”
“Enlightened?” Dreadlocks offered through a breath of smoke. I shook my head. Max still smiled. He grabbed my arm and pulled me closer, throwing his own around my shoulders when I complied. He held the joint in his hand up to my lips. What the hell, I thought, and took a slow even drag.
“Yeahhh mannnn,” Dreadlocks sang.
Four minutes, and two hits later, the smoke alarm started going off. It took me a second to realize what it was, and then I looked to Max and Dreads. They both had their pointer fingers to their noses and big goofy grins on their faces. Oh, the front door. I get it now.
I stood up, waited for the vertigo, appreciated the vertigo, and got a bar stool from the kitchen. Max and his friend chuckled excitedly as I teetered dangerously on the stool top and reached for the alarm. I laughed too. Suddenly, me not being tall enough to reach was the funniest thing in the world. Until I fell over. Then that was the funniest thing.
I was very aware of the pain in my back, but I just didn’t care enough to feel it. Max and Dreads were hoarse with laughter.
“Did you see that?! Oh my God, that was the…ahhhh.” Dreads sighed, wiping tears from his eyes.
“Te-Keyyy-Layyy!” Max was yelling over the smoke alarm. I was still laughing when Tom walked in the front door.
“Kyle?” Was that concern I heard in his voice? He stood over me just long enough to see that I was laughing. “Jesus Kyle,” he said. He picked up the fallen stool and climbed up on it. He pulled the battery out effortlessly, which made us all laugh even harder.
“Kyle…” Tom said shaking his head.
“Why me? It was Max who-”
“You know better. Fuck, I sound like my father.” Tom walked over to the couch and leaned over to open the windows. “Put that out,” he told Max. Max carefully snubbed out the joint and put it back in the Ziploc bag he had.
“Alright Maximilian, I’m out,” Dreadlocks said, standing up.
“Catch ya later Trav,” Max said, engaging in a half high-five/half handshake with Dreads.
“Later Kyle. Keep it real,” Dreadlocks said to me and walked out the door.
Max was smiling at me. “Shut up,” I told him. I closed my eyes, still lying on the floor. When I opened them Max was standing over me.
“You have a very low tolerance Tekeylay.”
“I know.” He offered me his hand and pulled me to my feet.
“I’m hungry. You hungry?”
“Yeah.” I thought he would just start cooking, but he went to the coat rack by the front door and threw me my coat.
“Where are we going?”
Max smiled and walked out the door.

38 Carson Avenue

Part One

There are a lot of people here. Even by party standards this house is crowded. I’m sweating my balls off squeezing through people. Where is that jackass, Jared? We’re going to get another citation. There is hardly even air in here to breathe. Music is pounding away, loud and unrecognizable. Someone turned the bass up and it's rattling the window frames of our old house. We may only be renters, but I've come to love this house in a way. For one thing, it's huge. I don't know how five college juniors were lucky enough to get this house in the first place, but the landlord liked us enough to lease it to us again senior year, and we were more than happy to keep our home. I'd seen no other house in this small town with five decent sized rooms, a large living room, a modern kitchen (complete with bar top,) and a full wraparound porch. At least, not one that any college kids inhabited.
I finally spot Tom about five feet away. He’s looking down at the ground, completely disgusted. Tom is one of my more ill-tempered roommates, but right now he'll have to do, as he's the only one I can find. I try to weave in and out of people and end up working my way over to him slowly.
Tom looks like he may have been in good shape at one time, but has since lost some of his physique. It goes well with his redneck persona though. I mean, Tom's the type of guy you expect to have a beer gut and still look good in a t-shirt and stained jeans; which he does. He also has the advantage of being a head taller than everyone else, which I do not.
I stood at my full height so he could hear me, finally realizing why he's so repulsed. There is someone throwing up at our feet. Great.
“Hey," I shouted over the music, "Have you seen Jared?”
“This is out of control Kyle," he shouted back, grabbing a fistful of his reddish brown hair just above his forehead. "I got home an hour ago. An hour ago! And I came home to this! This is ridiculous!” Tom is pissed. Of course he’s pissed. If I didn’t help plan this mess, I’d be pissed too.
“I gotta find Jared. We need to get these people outta here.”
“Yeah. When you find him, tell him I’m going to break his neck!”
I continue working my way through the crowd, keeping as much to the wall as I can. All the while I'm thinking that I might kill Jared before Tom can get a hand on him. When he suggested having a party the first weekend after school started I said it was stupid. However, like always, I agreed to it anyway. Tom was fine with whatever we did as long as it interrupted his life as little as possible, and my other two roommates were happy either way.
Jared ran the show. When things were going well, we all denied it. But when things got fucked up, we were chickenshit. When something felt out of our hands, Jared had a hold on it. Jared could get these people out without getting decked, and he could sweet talk the cops without getting a summons. So where was he now?
I spotted Max, another of my roommates, clear across the room. He’s a close second to Jared in a crisis. He’s calm, and smart, and he knows what’s up with everyone and everything. It’s just that he’s…well, you’ll see.
“Max!” I’m only a foot away from him now, after much maneuvering. “Max,” I tried again. He looked straight ahead with a bemused look on his face, completely oblivious to me. There’s a full cup of beer in his hand. “MAX!” Still no reaction. I step into his line of vision and wait while his grey eyes focus on me.
“Te-key-lay! Here, have a beer!” He thrusts his cup at me and pats me on the shoulder. He makes to go around me, but I stop him. His dirty-blond hair is sticking out in every direction, as are the bristly hairs on his face that never seem to make it to a full beard, but never disappear with a clean shave either. To Max, a mess is a beautiful thing, disorder is interesting, and panic is not a feeling, but something to be observed.
“How come you have a cold beer?” The temperature of the cup he’s just handed me is oddly low for being in a house that stopped serving alcohol two hours ago.
“Why don't you ask our dear friend and roommate, Paul Moore? Now, if you'll excuse me.”
It’s only then that I notice Paul “less is” Moore, my fourth and final roommate, standing over Max’s right shoulder. Paul is short, shorter than me. He looks kind of scrawny at first, but when you look closer you can see the lean body of a runner. His quiet disposition, fair skin, and thin ashy blond hair give him a weak appearance, but he can outrun us all, and probably anyone else who tried.
“Where did he get this? Why is it cold?” Paul shrugged. “Paul!”
“Some kids had their own beer," he said slowly, "Max bet them that they couldn’t solve his riddle.”
“And then what?”
“And then they couldn’t solve his riddle,” he said flatly, as if to say, Duh Kyle!
I chased after Max, determined to bring him back to Earth.
“Max,” I said, grabbing his shoulder, “where is Jared?” His eyes were locked on a small girl with brown hair and brown eyes to match. Physically, she was his opposite. She stared right back at him and I thought, well, that’s that. I turned to continue looking for Jared without help, but Max began to speak.
“Mr. McCall ascended the stairs on the arm of a lovely blonde who had just finished her ninth cup of brew.”
“Shit!”
Max turned to face me. “You shouldn’t worry so much Tekeylay.”
“No? I suppose I should just find some blonde bombshell, cart her off to my room, and fuck her while a hundred people are congregated in my house, breaking my shit!” Max’s brow furrowed. He leaned over to whisper something in the brunette’s ear and she nodded. He took her hand and they walked away.
There was no hope then. Just wait for the cops to come and work overtime next week to pay for the ticket, or citation, or whatever it was this time. I sat down in our big armchair and watched some drunken girls taking pictures. I could feel something wet soaking through my jeans. Five, six, seven pictures later the girls turned around and after a second they put down their cups and headed for the door. The music was lowered until I couldn't hear it anymore. All around people were shrugging into sweatshirts and chugging down the last of their drinks. I watched as, one by one, they filed out. Max caught my eye and winked. He was still hand and hand with the small girl. I shook my head.
When everyone had left, Max walked out after them with that same girl. Paul started cleaning up, but I told him we’d do it tomorrow. There were cups and cans and bottles covering every flat surface. The wood floors were soaked in what could only be alcohol and...I grimaced...vomit. Tom climbed the stairs with a sigh, grumbling about something or other. It probably had to do with his room being right next to Jared’s. Paul followed him. I locked the back door and checked every room in the house for stragglers. I hesitated before locking the front door, thinking about Max. While searching the rooms I had found his keys. I decided to lock it anyway. Max is kind of like a stray dog. Sometimes he doesn’t come home at all, and there isn’t always a girl to take him in. I wonder where he goes on those nights...

Part Two

I got up relatively early the next morning to start the cleaning. I could smell bacon and a million other delicious things cooking downstairs. I got out of bed and looked out the window. Tom’s car was gone. He was probably picking up extra hours at work. He did that a lot. Tom isn’t happy unless he’s making money.
I walked over to the mirror on the back of my door. I stared directly into my dark brown eyes, thinking for many minutes. The guy who stared back at me had hair the exact same shade as my eyes. It was cut short enough these days that nothing could move it. I ran my fingers through it, watching every hair spring back into place. I sighed and grabbed a pair of sweatpants off the floor, pulling them up over my ridiculous Christmas-themed boxers. My sock drawer was empty so I grabbed a pair from the cuffs of a dirty pair of jeans. Better dirty socks than bare feet on the sticky living room floor. I'd have to add laundry to my list of things to do today. I stole another look in the mirror before heading downstairs.
Max was the one standing beside the stove. That didn’t surprise me. I sat down at the huge, wooden bar that separated the front door and the kitchen, swiping my arm along the surface to clear a space.
“Good morning, Mr. Romano,” Max said with a big, sunny smile. The gleam of his white teeth was almost too bright for my eyes to handle.
“Good morning, Mr. Schaefer.” I watched him jump around the kitchen for a few minutes from stove to counter, from counter to fridge, from fridge to stove. My head throbbed trying to keep up with him so I put it down on the bar. I listened to Max whistle away like a bird. A moment later he knocked on the bar top about an inch from my head. I looked up to find two small white pills and a glass of O.J. “Thanks,” I said.
We heard a creak on the stairs and I guessed it was Paul. It was Jared though, and the “lovely” blonde. She looked like she’d seen better days. Jared held the front door open for her. She looked insulted. Sometimes Jared can be a real asshole.
“Miss, would you like some breakfast?” Jared rolled his eyes at Max's offer. The girl smiled warmly at him though. She was rather pretty when she smiled.
“No,” she looked coldly at Jared, then back at Max, “thank you though. I really appreciate that.” And then she was gone.
“Morning boys,” Jared said, closing the door behind her, “I hope you all had as good a night as I did.” Max looked kind of troubled, but smiled at him. I nodded, sort of. He sat down at the bar and went on and on about his night. I tuned him out, knowing how much Jared liked his details. Then I remembered last night and how he disappeared.
“Hey, asshole! Way to leave us with a houseful of people! You totally broke the rules!” Jared looked taken back.
“Did not,” he said, “What rules?”
“The rule,” I explained, “that states that no man be left behind.”
“Max and Tom and Paul were there! Plus, you seemed to handle it alright. I don’t see any tickets around; no broken furniture either. Now that surprises me.” He laughed. I sighed. Whatever; no sense in being stressed out about it now. Max went back to his whistling. After a few minutes Jared left the bar and turned the T.V. on in the conjoined living room. I found myself hoping that the armchair was still wet.
Paul came downstairs just in time for breakfast, but said he wasn’t hungry. I watched in disbelief as he grabbed a powerbar and walked out the front door.
“There’s no way he just went out running,” I said, still astounded.
“Ah,” Max said, “young Paul is a mystery to us all.” You’re a mystery to us all, I thought. “Mr. McCall, will you be eating this morning?”
“Thanks, man. I’ll take it in here,” Jared called.
“Don’t,” I said to Max as he went to take it to him.
“Oh, I didn’t plan on it.” He smiled and placed the plate on the bar where Jared had been sitting. He took the dish towel from his shoulder and wiped his hands.
"So how was your night? You weren't locked out were you?"
"I had an extraordinary night," he replied, pausing dreamily with my plate in his hands, "And no, I didn't get locked out, thank you though." He placed the plate, overflowing with eggs, bacon, pancakes, and cut up cantaloupe in front of me.
"Geez, what’s the occasion?” Max just smiled. Jared shuffled in to grab his plate. He looked surprised as well, mumbled thanks, and went back to the armchair.
Max placed another plate next to me with slightly smaller portions.
“A slender girl, not very tall in height, with large, beautiful brown eyes and exquisite, golden brown hair will be walking in that door shortly," he said leaning across the bar and pointing at the front door. "When she does, I’d like you to offer her this food and be very nice to her. Do you understand?” No, not all.
“Yes, Mom.” Max gave one short nod and walked through the living room, out the back door. I looked over at Jared for an explanation. He looked just as clueless as me, but more retarded because he had a mouth full of food. He shrugged and went back to watching the T.V.
Sure enough, when I was halfway done with my breakfast, the small girl from the night before walked in. She just waltzed on in without knocking are even saying “hello” before stepping inside. She didn’t say anything when she was inside either. She just walked over to the coat rack and hung up a large sweatshirt I recognized as belonging to Max. She turned around quickly to walk out and I remembered my instructions.
“Hey, you want food?” She looked at me with zero expression on her round face. “This is for you,” I told her, indicating the plate next to me.
“Oh.” She danced over and climbed up on the bar stool. She ate slowly, chewing a lot between bites. I watched her for a minute, and then continued on my own meal. After a while I started to feel kind of awkward.

“So, uhh, I’m Kyle,” I said to her.
“Kyle,” she repeated, “That’s a nice name.”
“Umm...thanks?” More silence. “And your name is…?”
“Ordinary, like yours.” Thirty-seven chews later she said, “Better to call me by my last name, Devaney. Everybody else does.”
“Devaney… that’s…nice.” After that I gave up.
When I was done eating I took my plate to the sink and cleaned it off. Max had already cleaned up the cooking mess. There was still a whole lot of party mess that needed to be sorted out. When I turned back to the bar the small girl, Devaney, was gone. I never even heard the door close.
“Pretty weird girl, huh,” I asked Jared.
“Was she?” His empty plate sat on top of a layer of beer cans. He was watching some kind of game show.
“Didn’t you hear anything she said?”
“No, not really.”
I grabbed the tall garbage can from the corner of the room and changed the bag. It took four bag changes before all of the empty cans were cleared from the downstairs. Paul came back and started helping. Jared got up eventually and helped also. Between the three of us it went faster than I had originally thought. I went to the back door to take out the recycling and grab the mop and bucket. There was a barrier of T.V.s, amps, guitars, lamps, and all of our other valuables in the way. We always locked these things in Max’s room, (the only bedroom downstairs,) during parties. Max emerged from there now pushing the largest amp we had.
“Hey, help me with this, will you?” I helped him arrange all of our stuff in the living room. This was a pretty habitual process by now and took less than three minutes.
“I’m going to mop,” I told Max, who was carrying our rolled up living room rug. He offered to do it instead, having missed the initial clean-up, but I told him not to worry about it. After all, he made breakfast; not to mention almost all of our other meals.
By the time the house was cleaned, (every carpet unrolled, every surface washed, and every foul smell deodorized,) my hangover was gone. I settled down to enjoy a peaceful Sunday full of football, laundry, and last minute homework.

…To Be Continued…

Meeting the Family

I rang the doorbell at Wes’ house, as I do so often. Wes joked that he was going to have a key made for me. At least, I thought he’d been joking. You never could tell with Wesley, he was always so…sure.
Tiny feet thrummed on the other side of the door. The footfalls got louder as they got closer. It was Ever then, that would be greeting me this evening. The door flew open with such force that the little girl was nearly pulled away with it. Even if Wes did make me a key, I’d never use it. His little sister got too much joy out of answering the door. Ever bounced up and down on the heels of her bare feet. Her toenails were painted orange today. All two and a half feet of her were wrapped around my waist before I could cross the threshold. All the while she kept shouting, “Sam’s here!” over and over and over again at the top of her little lungs.
“I didn’t hear you ask who it was,” Emily’s voice called in from the kitchen.
“It’s okay, Mom, she was with me.” Wesley slid down the banister and kissed my cheek.
“I saw from the window!” Ever seemed hurt by the accusation. Wesley tugged lightly at a lock of her golden brown hair until she released me.
Wes pulled me by the waist into the kitchen. I had never been comfortable displaying my affection in front of a boyfriend’s parents before, but Wes’ parents were different. Nick and Emily were almost always connected in some way. It was as if all of their energy and passion came from each other. I’m not saying I would go at it with Wes on the living room couch, but I would stand with my arms around his waist while we talked to his mom. It was natural. And everyone in this house just did what came naturally.
“Sam, honey, it’s nice of you to come,” Emily said, blowing me a kiss. Her hands were covered in cheese and sauce, as were the hands of her younger son.
“Thank you for having me. Eli are you sure you don’t mind me being here?”
Eli pushed his overgrown bangs out of his eyes with his wrist to avoid getting sauce in his hair. The cinnamon curl just flopped back in place. He looked at me and said, “If he’s going to meet my family, he may as well meet everybody.” I smiled at him.
This was a big day for Eli; he had invited his first boyfriend over for dinner. Yes, boyfriend. At ten years old Eli knew exactly what interested him and exactly what didn’t. Girls were part of the latter. His parents never said things like “it’s just a phase” or “he’s just confused.” Eli being gay was just as accepted as Wesley being straight. Emily told me she knew the second he walked in from his first day of kindergarten and said, “Mom, I just met the most beautiful boy I have ever seen.” It was impossible for anyone to not love Eli. His confidence was magnetic.
“Shoot! I need to go get dressed! Mom, you got this?” Eli looked a little panicked.
“Yeah, I think I can handle it,” Emily said sarcastically.
“Dressed?” Wes’ chest vibrated against mine as he spoke. “You must really like this kid.”
“Shut up!” Eli called over his shoulder as he left the room. It was true though; Eli may be gay, but he was the farthest thing from flamboyant. He usually wore the same jeans that got steadily dirtier as the week went on, old band t-shirts of Wesley’s, and skateboarding shoes for as long as they lasted.
Emily rinsed her hands off and came closer to us. She spoke in a lowered voice. “I think he really does like this boy. I was going to make spaghetti, but E. insisted on lasagna.”
“And he sent Dad out to get a pie,” Wes added.
“Oh, I’m sure he just wants to impress the kid. What’s his name?”
Wes laughed. “Jamie! That’s the best part!” I looked at him and rolled my eyes.
“Says the boy whose girlfriend’s name is Sam,” I said smugly. Wesley thought about it for a second then smiled.
“We are fucked up.”
Emily gave him a disapproving look.
“This lasagna is going to be a while. Let’s hope Jamie doesn’t come hungry.” She paused for a moment. “Do you guys hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“Nothing, that’s the thing, where’s Ever?” And just like that she was off in search of the four year old child.
“Let’s go watch T.V.,” Wes suggested.
We curled up on the big, soft couch in the living room. I had no expectations of actually watching T.V. Wes changed the channel every three seconds and Ever would be making noise again soon enough, or asking me to paint her fingernails, none of which I minded.
Instead I looked at the family photo hanging above the mantle. It was a colorful picture, taken at some sort of outdoor gathering two years ago. I love this picture. Wes is standing on his tippy-toes so he’s the same height as his father, who has his arm around Wes’ shoulders. Eli is sitting on Nick’s shoulders. His hand rests on Wesley’s head. Emily is next to Nick, of course. She is holding his hand with the arm that is not holding Ever, who has one shoe on and one shoe off, naturally. They are all smiling, except Nick and Emily. They’re kissing.
Emily sat down at the large table with a glass of wine. She now wore a long, billowy white skirt with sandals and a beige blouse. We heard the garage door open, followed by someone walking in the door.
“Hey Dad,” Wes called over Ever’s excited cries. I shouted my own greeting when she had quieted down some.
“Hey kids,” he called to us. He went to Emily, dragging Ever along who was attached to his ankle.
“I’ll be right down, “he said, “I just want to change.”
“Better not,” Emily said warily.
“You’re kidding me?” They exchanged a look. “I got the pie; I’ll wear what I want. Where is the little tyrant anyway?” I doubted Nick would refuse to do anything Eli asked of him. He was wrapped around his finger.
“How ya doin’ Sam?” he asked me on his way to the stairs.
“Very well, thank you.”
It wasn’t long before Emily was joined again by her husband. They sat at the kitchen table with their ankles and fingers entwined. Both sat sipping wine, whispering together, laughing every so often. Ever was sprawled out on the carpet beside us putting on every piece of jewelry from her Pretty Pretty Princess game for the occasion. Farley, the big old sheepdog that had practically grown up with Wesley, was sporting the green and blue necklaces. Ever cooed to him softly.
We heard Eli’s bedroom door shut and turned our attention to the stairs.
“Lookin’ good bro,” Wes said.
“Really? You think?” I had never seen Eli so nervous before.
“Real sharp, E.,” I added encouragingly. He smiled. It might not have been “dressed up” but it was for Eli. He wore crisp, clean jeans, a bright green button down shirt, and new black Converse sneakers.
“Let us see,” Emily said excitedly. E. went into the kitchen, sticking the green ring that Ever offered him in his pocket when she wasn’t looking. At least he appeared to be a little more himself.
“You got the pie,” I heard him ask his dad as he helped with his shirt cuffs.
“Sure did,” Nick answered.
Just then the doorbell rang and Ever started running to answer it. Wesley grabbed the back of her shirt just in time and pulled her to his chest.
“Whoa, kid! Let Eli get it this time.” Ever nodded solemnly. Wes let her go and she crawled back over to Farley. Wes looked purposefully at the T.V. and I followed suit. We didn’t turn around until we heard E. say, “That’s my brother, Wesley, and his girlfriend, Sam. And that’s Ever, my sister. Guys, this is Jamie.”
“Nice to meet you Jamie,” Wes said, shaking his hand.
“It’s a pleasure,” I added.
Eli had a good taste in guys. Jamie was blonde and bronze, and exactly the same height as him. He had chocolate brown eyes that were warm and kind. He looked nervous. Why did anyone think that Eli would choose someone that wasn’t perfectly charming? E.’s own blue eyes couldn’t be separated from the boy. He pulled Jamie by the hand to the kitchen to meet his parents. I remembered the first time I met Nick and Emily. He won’t be nervous for much longer.
“Ugg, they match,” Wes groaned quietly in my ear, “Let’s go upstairs.”
We climbed the stairs as the two boys took our seats and prepared to play some sort of video game.

When we got to Wes’ room he lay down on his bed and pat the comforter at his side. I joined him, getting as close as possible to his body.
“Who was your first girlfriend,” I asked him. He lay on his back with his eyes closed. I couldn’t make out the song he was humming as he tapped out the drum beats lightly on my back. He smiled when I asked my question, but only answered when he had finished the chorus.
“Shelley Conlon. Why?”
“Shelley? Really? Hmm.” That surprised me. Before meeting me junior year, Wes had hooked up with half of the most popular girls in our grade. And Shelley was…well she was Shelley Conlon, the quiet girl that played in our high school’s band. I realized that that’s the only thing I really knew about her. She looks nice enough. “When was that,” I asked.
“Eighth grade,” then as an afterthought he added, “I still talk to her sometimes.”
“What?” I couldn’t help but feel a little jealous for a second.
“Relax, Sam. Shelley Conlon has nothing on you.” He smiled down at me and I did relax. A little. “Shell has third period free with me. She sits alone, so sometimes I sit with her. She’s really nice…and really lonely, ya know? So we talk.”
“About what?”
“It wouldn’t be right for me to tell you. They’re her secrets, not mine. But I promise you it has nothing to do with you and me.” He kissed me, and I understood. This is why I love him, I thought.
There was a knock on the door and Nick’s voice told us dinner was almost ready.
“Be right down,” we called in unison and laughed.

Dinner went well. Eli looked like he was going to burst with excitement when Jamie asked for seconds. Even Farley got some of the burnt rolls as we all stared at each other through a smoky haze. Wes called it exotic. Nick called it mystical. I called them crazy. Ever shocked us all with a proud display of eye shadow, lipstick, and blush on her face. Emily said that she looked very lovely, but could she please ask the next time she wanted to borrow make-up? Ever leaned in to Jamie and claimed that she wanted to look pretty for him. Jamie said it was a very nice thought, but he preferred a more natural look. No one missed that he looked at Eli after he said this. Wes was beside himself, turning his laughter into mock choking. Nick clapped him on the back.
After dinner Wesley and I joined Jamie and Eli for a few rounds of Mario Kart. Wes sat Ever down on his lap and gave her a wireless controller. He pointed to his screen and told her it was hers. She enjoyed beating us all as much as we enjoyed letting her think that she was beating us all. Jamie seemed reluctant to go when his mom came to pick him up, but Nick and Emily promised he could come back whenever he wanted. After he left, Eli was all but flying around the house on a cloud of happiness.
I left not long after Eli’s little boyfriend. I thanked Wes’ parents and Eli too, hugged Ever goodbye, and promised to be back tomorrow. Wesley walked me to my car. Twenty minutes later I climbed in and drove myself home.

Shower Seduction

Lying on our queen size bed I had a thought. I glanced at the clock beside me and winced. The odds were against me; she was running late. Granted, the kids were out the door, breakfast was made to perfection, and last night…well last night was amazing. Remembering last night made my current thought feel all the more attainable, and I had to try.
I stripped down on the way to our bathroom door, starting with my socks. The carpet was still as bouncy as the day it was installed. A miracle. How many times had we dragged our feet along this very path, from the bed to the bathroom, in the early mornings? Too many times. Too many times for the fibers beneath my toes to feel at all sensational. I’d have to commend her for choosing the Loop carpet when I wanted Saxony. But not now.
I stood outside the bathroom door with a hand on either side of the frame, listening. The sound of the shower was inviting, warm. It was made all the more alluring by the fact that I was bare as could be. The sudden splash of water falling in large droplets to the ground almost had me knocking down the door.
On turning the knob, I was surprised to find it locked. Who did she think would be walking in? With the kids off to school, there was only me. Was it out of habit, or did she anticipate such a move on my part? The odds were definitely against me if that were the case. I expected to use the element of surprise to entice the not-so-easily-enticed. The knob itself was not a problem. With a little pressure and a quick turn, the lock gave way.
I was greeted with a flood of humidity. The large mirror stretching across her sink and mine was completely fogged over. The glass shower door was foggy as well, except, by some stroke of fate, in one spot furthest from the streaming spout. Through that clear pane, with her back to me, stood the object of my affection. With her arms raised to her head her shoulder blades looked like the wings of an angel. The foam of her shampoo left a white trail along her spine that trickled straight down into the opaque portion of the glass.
She turned around and spotted me, startled at first, then annoyed. My face gave me away. “I can’t,” she said, “Not today.”
I was on the other side of the glass, under the warm water with her before she could say anything more. It smelled nice; like Girl Shower.
“Give me one good reason why not today,” I said, wiping the shampoo from her forehead with my thumbs before it could go in her eyes.
“There are a million reasons why not. Give me one good reason why we should.”
I shrugged. She was so cute when she was irritated. “Carpe diem?” How about, because you’re beautiful?
“We can seize the night,” she pleaded, “The day is for working.”
“Mmm,” I murmured against her throat, “I knew I should have been a male prostitute.”
She laughed, and whatever organs were behind my abdomen melted. Her eyes never left mine as she rinsed the shampoo from her hair. I absently stroked the long scar across her stomach. That was the most beautiful scar in the world. Forty-eight stitches. Forty-eight little reminders of the scariest, happiest day of my life. The day our twin children joined us in this world. Venus herself could not compare to the woman before me. Even the purple bruise-like marks under her eyes were pretty reminders of “seizing the night” and getting very little sleep.
We switched sides as she reached around for the conditioner. This placed me directly under the shower head, which felt nice, but made it harder to see her face.
“Did it occur to you that I take showers to get clean, not dirty?” Her bell-like voice rang out to me.
“The thought did cross my mind; especially when the door was locked.”
“The door was locked?” She sounded confused. So it was out of habit. The outlook was still bleak however, she had that set look on her face.
“It’s cold out there, baby, don’t send me away.” I tried pouting just a little bit. Experience told me she was partial to this face.
It seemed to work. She kissed my lips and then my chest and moved slowly…down. And then shock rippled through me as the water rapidly turned ice cold. I flung the shower door aside and tripped, scrambling out of the tub. My wife was crouched down, beside herself with laughter as I figured out that she was responsible for the temperature change. Even through the bitterness I thought this creature was beautiful with her hand over her mouth and her eyes shut tight, clutching the side of the tub and shaking with laughter.
I reached over and turned the knob back to warm so she wouldn’t freeze.
“That was cruel,” I said when she was a little more in control of herself.
“I’m sorry, hon. I didn’t think you’d…” And she was off laughing again. The tile floor was really cold, despite the warmth of the air. I stood up, as did she. Her eyes were apologetic as she observed me. I felt a little disoriented. She tossed me a towel.
“Saturday we can shower all…day…long,” she promised. Somewhere in the back of my mind I considered the water bill for such an occasion and I knew she had won.
“And until then?”
“Porn,” she said flatly. I snorted. That was a fruitless cause. Every time I tried I only ended up looking at pictures of her.
I wrapped the towel around my waist and left the bathroom. Let her take her shower. Let her keep her job. Let us keep our house…and our bed, (which was looking very warm in the cold room.) I reached down for my pants, but another hand beat me there. I spun around as soft arms circled my waist.
“I changed my mind.” She kissed me with such ferocity that I was barely able to get out my next words.
“Damn you, woman,” I grunted as we hit the mattress.
While lying there on our queen size bed I had a thought…The water is still running in the shower.
Oh, and, I love to love the woman in my arms.

Vindication for Jenna

Dan lay on top of Jenna moving back and forth, grunting. She stared at his blank face. His mouth hung open dumbly while his eyes stared fixedly at some point to the right of her head. Jenna could have rolled her eyes and he wouldn’t have noticed; so she did.
When he was finished, Dan rolled over on his back, taking the right side of the bed that he always claimed.
“God I missed you girl,” he huffed. Jenna gave him a small, weak smile that went over-looked anyway. She turned her back to him and pulled her knees up to her chest. The stars outside the large window in Dan’s room held her attention for just a minute. Before long Jenna’s mind had wandered towards someone who, at this time, was just as miserable as her. She turned around on impulse to face Dan.
“I cheated on you while you were away.” He opened his eyes and turned his head to face her. It was the first time he really looked at her in hours. Twenty-four seconds later he said, “What?”
“I had sex with someone else while you were California,” she said calmly with only a hint of smugness. Dan thought vaguely of the cute blonde he’d gotten stoned with on the beach one night in Cali. Another more important thought seized him.
“With who?”
Jenna stared back into his dark brown eyes while she thought about whether or not to tell the truth. Even though she was looking at brown eyes, all she saw was a pair of blue ones. Her decision was made for her.
“Michael,” she breathed. His name was like a breath of fresh air. Michael, the only kind person living in this house. Michael, whom I never really saw before you left. Michael, who changed everything while you were off on some internship that I begged you not to take.
Within seconds Dan was out of bed and pulling on sweatpants. Jenna pulled her underwear on in one fluid motion, but was still twelve steps behind by the time she pulled one of Dan’s dirty t-shirts over her head. They thudded noisily down the grand staircase, not caring who they awoke. Dan’s goal was clear in his head, but Jenna’s wasn’t as solid. She wasn’t running after Dan to protect Michael. He was stronger than Dan, and was used to fighting for things while Dan was handed everything. No, it wasn’t to protect him. Jenna’s primary motive was desire. She simply wanted to be with Michael.

***

Dan’s parents never questioned Jenna’s presence at their house during their son’s absence. To them she was a lost puppy, a pet of Dan’s. Maybe they wrote it off as her not knowing what else to do with her life, or maybe they just didn’t care. That was the more likely option. They hardly cared about their own son, why should they care about his poor, t-shirt wearing girlfriend? In any case, the house was big enough for her to never get in their way and that was all that mattered.
Jenna did stay away at first. She wasn’t so uncivilized as to come over uninvited. But she was invited. Michael, the quiet boy living in Dan’s house that she’d only previously seen in passing, had struck up a friendship with her. He had seen her at the library many days in a row looking, not lost, but lonely. Jenna had seen him too, but never thought anything of it, except to finally have solved the mystery of where he spent all of his time. It wasn’t until Michael saw her crying over a novel that he finally decided to approach her.
Weeks passed in the library like years aboard a ship traveling towards some unknown destination. The two talked about everything from the past to the future, but it wasn’t until a bond of trust was formed between them that either mentioned the present.
Jenna was curious about how Michael came to be living with Dan’s family. She was surprised by the simplicity of the situation. Michael was in his sophomore year of college and, paying for everything on his own, decided it would be cheaper to commute. His father was an old friend of Dan’s father who heard about his situation and took Michael in at a reduced rental fee. Michael was in the library all the time studying.
As it turns out, Jenna’s involvement with Dan turned out to be harder to explain. She wouldn’t have brought it up at all but Michael, who never openly said a bad word about the family he boarded with, was insanely curious as to why anyone would be involved with them by choice. She didn’t have a real answer for him.
One day Jenna broke down in a fit of frustration and admitted for the first time to anyone what she really thought of sex. Michael sat there with his chin in his hand and a crease between his eyebrows. He didn’t say a word or take his eyes off her. Jenna felt a little nervous, but found that once she started ranting she couldn’t stop. When she was finished she just sat there, out of breath, and waited for him to say something. After a few moments, Michael asked, “Jenna, was Dan your first?” She answered meekly that, yes, he was. That was the day Jenna learned what sex really was, what it was really meant to be. And for the first time ever, she attached the words “making love” to the act.

***

Jenna descended the last of the basement stairs to find that Dan faced a locked door. The pounding was enough to wake the neighbors, and then there was the yelling on top of it. Jenna wasn’t surprised to see a light turn on at the top of the stairs. They heard a lock turn and the door opened. There stood Michael in his boxers just as bare-chested as Dan. Before Jenna could fully take in the sight of him, Dan lunged. He got in maybe one good punch before Michael responded. All the while, the two were screaming at each other.
“You asshole! How dare you fuck my girlfriend! She’s mine! D’you hear me?!”
“She’s not yours! She’s not anybody’s!”
“I’m gonna kill you!”
“She’s too good for you! You don’t even love her!”
“And like you do?”
“Yeah!”
Jenna felt her already racing heart jump a little inside her. It looked to be a good thing for Dan that his Dad swooped in when he did to pull them apart.
“What’s going on down here,” Dan’s mom asked as she fastened her robe more tightly around her waist.
“He was screwing my girlfriend behind my back!” Dan yelled.
Dan’s father turned to Michael. “Is that true?”
“I wouldn’t choose those words,” Michael said angrily.
“Michael?”
“Yes, sir. It’s true.”
Dan’s face turned red all over again. His father just sighed and said, “Yeah…well.” He stepped out from between the boys and headed for the stairs without looking at Jenna. “Dan, go back to bed,” he said over his shoulder. Dan shot one more enraged look at Michael and, like his father, climbed the stairs without looking at Jenna. His mother gave her an icy look, but said nothing and followed her husband and son.
Jenna wondered if Dan’s father would kick Michael out after this. She decided that, no, he wouldn’t. Michael was responsible and paid his rent on time, sometimes even over-paying. Most importantly, he was hardly ever around, and therefore never in the man’s way. The petty squabbling of teenagers over some girl were none of his concern; especially a girl who was not financially or socially worth fighting over.
Dan and his family took all the tension with them, leaving Jenna and Michael and a sense of relief behind. Jenna smiled at Michael and whispered, “Sorry.” His returning smile was ear-to-ear.
“You told him,” he stated.
“Yeah, I guess I did.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “I slept with him,” she whispered into his bare chest.
“Would you call it sex?”
“No, not like it is with us.”
“Well if it wasn’t really sex to you, then you didn’t really sleep with him.” Jenna lifted her head gratefully and Michael kissed her for real.
“Would you understand if I told you I have to go talk to him?”
“Yes.”
Michael released her with some reluctance and she ascended the dark stairs in search of Dan. She found him outside on the front porch smoking a cigarette. She sat down beside him and said, “You don’t smoke.” Dan ignored her at first and then changed his mind.
“I’m out of weed,” he said. Jenna nodded and waited for him to say more. “I wouldn’t take you for a cheater.”
“It wasn’t for sex. Michael and I had more of a relationship in the two months you were away than you and I had in the entire year we were together.”
“Gee, Jen, that sure makes me feel a lot better,” Dan said sarcastically, still looking straight ahead, still smoking his cigarette.
“I’m not trying to make you feel better.”
“Ouch.”
“I just want you to understand why.”
“You can’t tell me it wasn’t about the sex; it’s always about the sex. Was he really that much better than me?”
“Yes.” That caught his attention. Dan turned his head slowly in her direction. He wore a very disgusted look. “You’re not a very compassionate lover, Daniel. You never considered how I might feel--” Dan opened his mouth to argue. “No! Listen to me for once!” And he did. He listened to every word Jenna had to say about how she felt, not only about sex, but about their relationship, and even about…Michael. He winced through her insults and rolled his eyes at some points, but in the end he understood.
“Wow,” Dan said, a little appalled by everything Jenna had said. Jenna felt a wild sense of relief wash over her. “So what now,” Dan asked.
Jenna thought about it for a minute then said, “Now you let me be happy, and I hope you find someone you think is worth it to love right.”
“Okay,” Dan said glumly.
“Okay?” Jenna smiled at him.
“Okay,” he said more firmly.
Dan nodded slowly while putting out his fourth and final cigarette. They went back into the house and parted in the foyer. Dan ascended the marble stairs to his room while Jenna took the carpeted basement stairs towards Michael.
Michael, who had changed everything.