Wesley sighed and kissed me. “You’re so unfair. You can’t use sex as a bargaining tool,” he complained.
“Sure I can, ’cause you’re perpetually horny.”
“So are you….”
“Yeah, but I can hold out longer than you,” I said, giving him a light kiss.
He wound his arms around my waist and grinned. “Then, how about some motivation beforehand?” he asked, leaning in for another kiss.
“Hey, don’t go getting all hard now,” I said, stepping back. “We gotta get going. Mom’s expecting me around two.”
We drove to my mom’s and Wesley dropped in to say hi, and then went on his way. I sent him off with a good-luck kiss, but I had a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach as I watched him drive away. I felt nervous for him, but I hoped for the best.
A small turkey was already in the oven and I got the apron hanging in the pantry. I made stuffing and mashed potatoes from boxes and threw together a green bean casserole and then dinner was served. We even sat at the kitchen table to eat, discussing our Christmas wish lists.
Until six years ago, Thanksgiving was a big event, gathering both sides of the family together. We always celebrated at our house and used the good china and cloth napkins and had lit candles on the table. Dad would carve up a big turkey and save the wishbone for Alycia and me. Uncle Steve, Aunt Carolynn, Uncle Jack, and Grandpa would be glued to the TV watching football, Mom, Grandma, and Aunt Robin usually stayed in the kitchen, and Dad entertained all the kids. It was strange how distant those memories seemed to me now, like I was remembering a movie, not my life.
After dinner, Mom, Alycia, and I sat down on the sofa and watched movies, our new holiday tradition in the past six years. Mom made some chocolate pudding and we put in another movie.
Around eight, the phone rang and Alycia jumped to answer it. I knew it was Dad; he called every holiday to say hi. It seemed like a forced pleasantry, as if he could make up for leaving us with holiday telephone calls. But he did seem genuine and wanted to hear all about our lives since the last conversation. It was a sweet-tart feeling, though; part of me forgave him, but the other part still hated him for breaking Mom’s heart.
“Happy Thanksgiving! Yup, yup. I love you too. Here’s Tor,” Alycia said, handing me the phone.
I took a deep breath then smiled so that my voice would sound chipper. “Hi, Dad. Happy Thanksgiving.”
“Hi, Toren! Happy Thanksgiving! How are you?”
“Pretty good. How about you?” I said, picturing my dad from a twelve-year-old’s memory. Six years later, I was almost as tall as he was, but I remembered him towering over me. I also remembered medium brown hair and a muscular frame, but in recent pictures of him, I had noticed his hair had grayed a little and he had gained some weight. I supposed I would always remember him through a twelve-year-old’s eyes.
“Doing good. So, how’s school, college man?”
“I like it. I like my classes, except precalc, and I’ve got some really good professors. It sure beats high school, anyway,” I answered, glancing at the TV. I remembered Dad’s voice being deeper. “Oh yeah, thanks for the check for graduation,” I said, though I sent him a thank-you card, in which Mom forced me to put a cap and gown photo.
“You earned it. I’m really proud of you, Tor. Have you thought of joining any clubs or school activities? You know, Mom and I were both on the newspaper in college. We had so much fun! You should….”
“Mom said the exact same thing,” I said with a laugh. They really must have had fun together in college. Then I blushed thinking about Mom telling me to join the gay club.
“Well, we did have a lot of good times,” Dad said, “but it doesn’t have to be the newspaper. You could join a history club or something.”
“Yeah, I’m looking into it for next semester.”
“Good. You should really consider it. You’ll have a lot of fun. Oh, I heard you got a job too. Where at?”
“Yeah. A place called the World Store.”
“World Store? Oh, I love that place! They have so many great wines!” Dad said, very nearly squealing. There was a momentary silence and I blushed for him. “Um, well, in a couple years, you’ll see what I mean,” he added with an awkward laugh.
“I really like the place too.”
“So, um, got any girlfriends?” Dad asked, lowering his voice an octave. Was he that concerned about coming off as gay to me? I nearly expected him to add “sport” or “champ” to the end of the question.
“No, no,” I answered quietly, staring in my lap and feeling my face flare. I remembered Dad being an outdoorsy, hands-on type of guy, but with some effeminate qualities that he usually joked about. Did he always try to cover up “that side” of himself or did he just try to hide it from me?
“Well, it sure was good talking to you. Keep up the good work and remember to find out more about the history club, okay?” Dad said, segueing quickly to the end of the conversation. “Happy Thanksgiving, Tor. I love you.”
“Happy Thanksgiving. I… love you too.”
I handed the phone to Mom and she kicked her feet up and started chatting like a teenager. Alycia smiled slyly and sat down next to me on the sofa.
“So when are you gonna tell Dad?”
“I dunno. When I feel like it,” I said, shrugging before resting my chin in
