“Pony, is your boyfriend coming for Thanksgiving?” Lilia asked.
My boyfriend, Stef thought, rolling the word around his mind.
How did this happen?
I saw him across an empty gallery. I thought he was hot. I hoped we’d hook up and get naked. Have a good time and be on our way. Now he’s my boyfriend.
“Are you coming for Thanksgiving?” Stef asked.
“I thought you’d never ask,” Jav said.
“What was your backup plan?”
“Well…” Jav’s brow furrowed over the skillet where two steaks were searing. “Ari’s going to Guelisten, naturally. And Val Lark kind of called me.”
“Kind of? She rang once and hung up?”
Jav kicked Stef’s calf. “She said she had room at her table. I was always welcome and I shouldn’t be alone on Thanksgiving.”
“What did you say?”
“I said thank you so much, I’m putting my own plans together and I’ll let you know.”
“Would you have gone?”
Jav’s mouth twisted sideways. “Well, second of all, I’m not sure I was ready for a family reunion of that nature.”
“Second?” Stef said. “What happened to first?”
“First was how you felt about it.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. Isn’t that what you do? Check with your boyfriend before you go have dinner with an ex?”
I have a boyfriend, Stef thought, watching Jav turn the steaks and tilt the skillet to let the juices pool at one side. Butter and garlic floated into Stef’s nose, making his stomach growl.
“I would’ve been cool with it,” he said.
“Really? Or are you being generous since I’ll be with you?”
“I’m being generous.”
“Thought so.”
“I wouldn’t have made a scene, but I wouldn’t have been entirely cool with it. By the way, my brothers will be at Thanksgiving, too.”
Jav’s head swiveled, eyebrows raised. “By the way? Dude, I know I’m new at this but I think that comes up earlier in the conversation.”
“Is Guelisten now looking like a more attractive option?”
“No, I’m in, but… Have you brought a male date around your brothers before?”
“No.”
“So it’s sort of coming out.”
Stef shrugged. “They know who I am. I just want a pleasant evening. And it will be. Stav will be there. Micah will be there. A lot of other people I—”
“Micah’s coming?”
“He always comes,” Stef said. “Love is a great wisdom made up of small understandings. Remember?”
Stef’s eldest brother Nilas was all Finch. White-haired since he was forty, tall and glacial with the personality of a folding chair. His date, Patricia (not Pat or Patti, she made abundantly clear), was chilly to the point of cryogenic stasis. Not even Jav could get her to open up. And if Jav couldn’t, no one could.
Kurt Finch, unfortunately, had his mother’s genes. The Wakefield men tended to be short and stocky. Their hair stayed dark but it receded quickly. Kurt’s eyes were so dark brown, they blended with his pupils, giving him a fevered look. He had a cruel little mouth that often got him in big trouble. Rory once threw a bag of frozen peas in his face when he crossed a line with her. He was sixteen and fresh at the time. Years later, during the raging catfights of the Finches’ divorce, an adult Kurt called his mother a dyke. Marcus Finch hooked a foot around the stool his middle-aged, middle son was lounging on and pulled it out from under, sending Kurt sprawling.
“You do not disrespect your mother,” he said. His hands made a familiar gesture and for a wild instant, Stef thought Marcus was actually going for his belt. A gleeful horror filled his chest at the thought of Marcus opening a can of whoop on Kurt’s fat ass. The moment passed, though, and Marcus only gave a half-hearted kick to Kurt’s rump as he stormed off. Stef wisely cleared out too. Nothing made Kurt more surly than being put in his place.
Standing next to Jav during drinks, Kurt looked even shorter, stockier and meaner. Stef could tell Jav was in escort mode, a garage door of poised charm pulled between him and this sullen troll. Tall and handsome, secure in his good manners, he did his job of finding the best in people.
And damn, he looked terrific doing it.
He conceded the casual dress code with his nicest jeans, a grey button-down and the vest from his three-piece suit. As he talked, he was crossing his arms and pushing his biceps up with his fists. A frat boy trick, but effective. Kurt’s gaze on Jav was a little disdainful, but he kept his mouth shut.
Good, Stef thought. Because you pull any shit and I will fucking kill you.
He wouldn’t.
It just felt good to think it.
Kurt brought no date to dinner. Rory parked him with Nilas and Patricia at one end of the table where they could entertain or annoy each other. Stef and Jav were down at the cool kids’ end with Stav and Micah. Rory and Lilia took center seats across from each other. Miscellaneous friends filled in the chairs until the long table was crammed tight.
Jav’s garage door pulled up and he bloomed like a cactus flower after a rainstorm. He and Micah had a long comparative discussion about Ladino and Spanish. He talked animatedly to Lilia about books, debated Rory on politics. He and Stef fired their little arsenal of private joke grenades at each other, laughing. When he was through eating, Jav set his silverware across his plate, folded his napkin, then put a casual hand on the back of Stef’s chair, leaning in to listen to a guest’s story. Stef laid a hand on Jav’s knee and gave it a small squeeze, feeling the roll of muscle beneath denim.
For all of the golden, candlelit, laughter-filled afternoon, he wanted for nothing. His needs were met and he was perfectly comfortable. His wants were met and he was perfectly happy.
Thank you, he thought.
Jav, Stef and Stav kicked Lilia out of the kitchen and tackled the washing up together. Nilas and Patricia took themselves home (to crawl back into their coffins, Stef guessed). Kurt loitered in the kitchen, getting in the way and doing nothing. Staring at Jav like he was a Petri dish of Ebola.
“So where’d you two meet?” Kurt asked.
“Stonewall,” Stef said, just as Jav answered, “Prison.”
At the sink, Stav gave a snort of laughter before stifling the rest.
“Dude,” Stef said. “We talked about this.”
Jav ducked his head. “Sorry. We met at Stonewall.” He dried the plates as Stav washed, stacking them on the counter.
“Well you’re just awful cute,” Kurt said. “If fudge-packing is what you’re into, I’m happy for you, bro.”
“Thanks for the visual, bro,” Stef said, scraping leftover mashed potatoes into a Tupperware.
Here it comes.
“Tell you, Stav,” Kurt said. “It’s a weird day when you find out your little brother craves dick.”
“Weirder when he sleeps with your best friend,” Stef said.
“Hoo, that’s awkward,” Jav said quietly.
“Right?”
Kurt’s upper lip twitched. “So who bottoms?”
Now Stef looked at him. “You know, man—”
“I do,” Jav said, his expression mild as he moved the dishtowel around a plate. “I’m the bitch in the arrangement.” He was wearing Lilia’s pink bibbed apron over his clothes, and Stef swore to God he’d never wanted him more.
To tell the truth, he might’ve been loving him a little.
“Got any other questions?” Jav said. “Want to come downstairs and see how the other half lives?”
“No, thanks, I just ate,” Kurt said.
“Stav, you coming down to party?”
“Only if I can be the little spoon,” she said.
“I call middle,” Jav said.
“Hey,” Stef said. “I don’t ride bitch on the cuddle train.”
Eyes rolling, Kurt stormed out, leaving the trio exchanging dismayed looks.
“Was it something we said?” Stav asked.