A Betting Man (6 page)

“We kept it like this,” Mary said quietly. “I know it almost makes it seem like he’s dead, but in some ways he is. He never comes to see us anymore.”

Mary turned to face me and I could see the tears in her eyes. “I’m hoping now that he’s brought you home we’ll see him more often.”

I took Mary’s hands and smiled. “If this works out, I’ll drag him here.”

“Bless your heart.” Mary winked at me.

* * * *

Dinner was chicken—the store-bought kind, thank God; I wasn’t good with chopping heads off. Talk around the table flowed around Carl’s job at the paper mill and Mary’s job at the high school as a math teacher. I liked them so much. They were warm and funny and obviously loved their only child. I was just taking a sip of my water when Carl turned to look at me.

“Have you been gay your whole life?”

I choked and inhaled water through my nose. Kent smacked me on the back as I coughed.

“Carl!” Mary smacked her husband’s hand. “What were you thinkin’ blurtin’ it out like that?!”

“What? I’m just curious is all. You know, your mother and I watch those new shows on TV, Kent? That
Modern Family
and
The New Normal
. You ever watch those?”

Kent shook his head and I tried to keep my laughter in check. He was looking at his parents as if he was seeing them for the first time.

“But, you guys go to church,” Kent stammered.

“Course we do! Don’t mean I can’t watch
Ellen
and shop at J.C. Penney! Besides, God loves everyone so shouldn’t we?” Mary sipped her wine. “You’re probably a fashion expert, aren’t you, Terry?”

Kent snorted and I kicked him under the table.

“Well, I’m not going to be doing
Project Runway
anytime soon,” I said, winking at Mary.

“Well, I think you are quite nicely put together. That black hair and blue eyes is quite a combination. The purple just makes the blue stand out more and makes your skin look more tanned. You are just beautiful, Terry.”

Mary took my hand and I blushed. “Thank you.”

“Isn’t he just beautiful, Kenny?” Mary asked happily.

I had to laugh. Mary narrowed her eyes at Kent.

Kent turned to look at me. His eyes searched mine and then his hand caressed my cheek.

“Yes, Mom. He’s breathtaking.”

I swore I heard the wind outside. The way Kent was looking at me just then sent a shiver down my spine. I felt naked. The cuckoo clock in the kitchen chimed and I jumped in my chair. Carl chuckled.

“Well, let’s have coffee in the living room.” Carl stood up and grabbed some of the plates.

“I’ll help with that!” I shot up out of my chair and grabbed Kent’s plate.

“But I’m not done!” Kent whined.

“Here,” I shoved a chicken leg in his mouth and disappeared into the kitchen.

Carl came in behind me and set the plates in the basin. He leaned against the counter and I could feel his eyes boring into me. I turned to face him and saw a huge smile on his face.

“Um, yes?” I asked.

“You’ve got my boy wrapped around your finger.”

“Oh, no I—”

“Oh, yes you do. I may not have spent much time with him over the last five years, but I know when he’s whupped.”

“Pardon?”

“Whupped, whipped.”

My eyes widened.

“Not that kind of whipped, son. I don’t go for that BDSM stuff and I’m sure my boy don’t, neither.”

My mouth fell open. Was I really talking sex kink with Kent’s dad? Did they have medication to help forget conversations like this? I was going on Web MD later.

“He’s fallin’ in love,” he declared.

Kent’s father winked at me as he washed the dishes off and handed them to me to put in the dishwasher. I really shouldn’t have been handling glass at that point. Kent Samson? In love with me? That was laughable. As soon as the kitchen was straightened up, we settled into the living room with coffee.

I leaned into Kent’s side, my head on his shoulder as I listened to stories of his childhood. They didn’t have a lot of money when Kent was younger. He had grown up with hand-me-downs from Goodwill on more than one occasion after his father had lost his job. Once the paper mill had gotten up and running, things had gotten smoother.

Kent squeezed me into his side as his parents went on and on about Kent in school, his accomplishments. They were so proud of him. Carl and Kent left briefly to get firewood. I hadn’t believed Mary when she said it cooled off at night. It
was
cooling off, though; it was dipping into the upper thirties. At eight, Carl and Mary watched their sitcoms. Kent and I snuggled together as we laughed right along with his parents. My eyes were getting heavy and I felt a warm hand on my cheek.

“Hey, you ready for bed?”

I opened my eyes to see Kent’s beautiful hazel ones looking at me.

“Yes,” I yawned and stretched out.

“Well, you two sleep tight!” Mary took Carl by his hand.

I stood up and yawned again, stretching out my legs. A warm hand slid into mine and then I was walking down the hall with Kent. He opened the room to the ’80s and I stopped in the doorway.

“Well, here’s where we say goodnight,” I said.

Kent pulled me into the room and shut the door. “No,
there
is where we say goodnight.” He pointed to bed.

“But—”

“Nope, my mom already said we’d be sleeping in here. Then she winked at me.” Kent wiggled his nose. “It was weird and kinda freaky.”

I walked to the bed and sat down on it. “I really like them, Kinnay,” I grinned.

“You’ll pay for that.” Kent pointed his finger at me.

“Whatever shall I do?” I fanned myself with one hand.

“Sleep.” Kent said, removing his shirt and slacks.

I was too tired to even remove my clothing. I flopped back on Harrison Ford and his whip—and snakes—and closed my eyes.

“Night, Kent.”

The bed dipped and then my pants were coming off. Kent’s warm body pulled me close to him and I relaxed into him.

“Night, Terry.”

I woke up to a purple streak of hair across the bridge of my nose and Terry’s soft breaths in my neck. I moved the hair over to the side and looked at perfection. Long black lashes hid beautiful, deep blue eyes. I trailed my fingertip over Terry’s soft, Cupid’s-bow lips. A soft whimper escaped him and I smiled. I vaguely heard pots and pans clunking around in the kitchen and moved carefully so as not to awaken Terry. He seemed pretty out of it. I threw on my sweats from high school, which were now a few inches too short. Cracking the bedroom door, I looked down the hall and saw shadows moving back and forth in the kitchen. Both of my parents were up. I stopped in the bathroom to splash my face and then continued into the kitchen. The stove was warming the kitchen tiles and sun peeked through the lace curtains.

My mother was busy taking pies out of the oven as my dad made coffee. I’d forgotten their morning ritual. Except for the pies. The pies were always made on Christmas Eve. My eyes widened and I looked at the calendar on the wall. How could I have forgotten about Christmas? I caught myself before I snorted. Of course I’d forgotten. Between work and Terry, I hadn’t so much as looked at the date in weeks. My mother noticed me first and a bright smile lit up her face.

“Morning, baby.”

I walked to my mother and hugged her tightly. God I felt like an ass. I hadn’t been home for Christmas in over six years. Who the hell had I become?

“Morning, Mom. That smells good. Pecan?”

“Of course! You know I always make pecan pie for Christmas.”

“You and Terry are staying for Christmas, right?” My father crossed his arms over his chest. “I won’t be havin’ you leave beforehand, Kenny.”

“I can’t speak for Terry, but I’m staying.” I hugged my dad. I pulled out of the hug and looked them both over suspiciously. “You made the hospital thing up, didn’t you?”

“No, not really.” My mother blushed and smiled at me wryly. “Your father ate some bad pig’s feet.”

My stomach turned over and I felt bile rise. I put my hand up as my mom rushed over to me. I must have gone pale. “Nope, I’m good,” I choked out. I never could understand how people ate pig’s feet. I couldn’t even lick someone’s toe during sex.

“Is Terry still sleeping?” my mother asked, as she put another pie in the oven.

I nodded, inhaling the fresh-from-the-oven pie on the counter. It smelled like home. “Yes, I think he was jet-lagged.”

“Well, he is just cute as a button!” Mom exclaimed. “Wherever did you find him, sweetie?”

I smiled at my parents, thinking about that day—it seemed so far away now. Terry walking into my office with a package and those blue eyes and beautifully curved lips.

“He found me.”

“Well, I’m sure glad he did,” Dad said, setting the table. “You’ve never looked so happy, son.”

“Yes,” Mom nodded, agreeing with my father. “And Terry cares for you quite a bit.”

I poured myself a cup of coffee while it was still brewing and put some sugar in it.

“You think so?” I asked.

“Oh yes.” My mom wiped her hands on her apron and moved hair from her brow with her forearm. “The way he looks at you, sweetie,” she sighed.

Had I been so busy trying to get Terry to fall in love with me that I’d missed it when he actually did?

“We haven’t even been together that long. Less than a month in fact.”

My father snorted. “Son, I knew I loved your mother the second I set eyes on her.”

I sat down at the table and regarded my parents. “How did you know?”

“I just knew,” he shrugged. “When our eyes met across the lunchroom.”

I’d forgotten my parents met in high school. Wow, I was a huge ass.

“Good morning.”

I turned to see Terry standing in the kitchen doorway with a shy smile.

“Hi,” I said. “Did you sleep well?”

Terry nodded, walking in to the kitchen. “I did, must be the country air.”

My father laughed. “Well this is a good day. I have to say, there’s more days that you get the paper mill smell than fresh country air.”

“Oh? What’s that smell like?” Terry asked.

“Shit,” Mary said.

I laughed at Terry’s expression.

“No, it really does smell like sewage,” I said, grabbing some bacon off the plate next to me.

My mother coughed and looked at my father. I sat back munching on my bacon.

“What?” I asked.

“Well, you see,” my mother began. “We weren’t sure if you’d come, ya know? So your father and I made plans to go to a party tonight at the Wexlers. Would y’all mind being on your own tonight?”

I looked over at Terry and saw carnal need in his eyes. I swallowed hard and turned my attention back to my parents.

“Nope, not at all. Knock yourselves out. Terry and I can figure something out.”

“Good!” My father smiled. “In the meantime, can you come into town with me, son? I got some Christmas shopping to do.”

“If that’s okay?” I took Terry’s hand in mine.

“That’s fine, you go on ahead. Your mother and I can bake cookies.”

“You bake?”

I almost laughed at my mother’s shocked look.

“Why yes, don’t you know that
all
of us gay men bake?!” Terry squealed comically and might have even lisped.

I almost pissed my pants as my mother swatted his arm.

* * * *

I spent the day shopping with my dad in Columbus. I swear we were all over the mall. My feet were starting to ache. I didn’t shop in stores. I shopped online. I never had time to go
out
shopping. As we tackled the mall, I realized how much fun it was shopping for other people. We walked into one of the ritzier stores and I looked at the Rolex watches. I wanted Terry to have something nice. My father was looking over at a glass case of rings. I came up behind him and smiled.

“What are you looking for?”

“Nothing, just waiting on your mom’s ring. I got our wedding date inscribed in it.” My father eyed all the bands in the case.

“Why? It’s Christmas. You should get her a huge rock.”

My father turned and smiled at me.

“That’s just not your mom, son. We were married with a gold band. Hell, we couldn’t afford anything back then. That ring is special to her.”

The salesperson came back with a silver box and my father cracked it open, smiling at the plain gold band inside. He picked it up gently, like it was breakable, and tilted it in the light.

“It’s perfect,” he said.

“So, where does Mom think her ring is?”

Dad’s face turned beet red.

“Oh no, you took it and didn’t tell her?”

“She thinks it’s lost.” My dad smiled at me with a sheepish grin.

“You are so dead,” I pointed at him.

When we got back, we had a quick dinner with my parents before they headed out for their Christmas Eve party. I kissed them both on the cheek and told them to have a good time. Terry was washing up in the shower, so I started a fire. I grabbed some blankets from my room and then stopped in my tracks. On my nightstand was a box of condoms topped with a red bow. I picked up the card and opened it.

Safety first! We’ll be back by one. Have fun!

“Seriously?”

I turned to find Terry with a towel wrapped around his hips. My mouth watered immediately.

“Nice gift, huh?” I gestured to the box.

“It will be if you use them.” Terry locked his eyes on mine.

I licked my dry lips. “Are you ready for that?”

“Are you?” Terry walked to me slowly.

I closed my eyes as Terry’s hands slid under my thin T-shirt. I put my arms up and he removed it the rest of the way. Warm lips brushed my skin and I tunneled my fingers into Terry’s wet hair.

“I’ve never had sex with a man,” I breathed, as Terry kissed me softly.

“I want you to make love to me.” Terry licked my bottom lip.

I grabbed the box. “Here?”

“No, in front of the fireplace.” Terry began to pull me backwards towards the living room.

“Well, I’m going to have to find something to use as lube—Santa didn’t leave any of that,” I laughed.

“Check your parents’ room,” Terry suggested with a stifled giggle.