The Night We Met

by Nikole Knight

  “Whatever, white boy.”

  His jaw dropped in mock affront, and I hid my cackle in my shake. “I’m half-Canadian, thank you very much.”

  Furrowing my brow, I pursed my lips. “Still white.”

  “Shut up.”

  Patty arrived with our plates, interrupting our conversation, and we both dug into our burgers the moment she turned her back. Groaning, we ate ravenously, and I sent him a smug eyebrow waggle as he devoured his burger.

  With his mouth full, he couldn’t speak. He settled for flipping me the bird instead, and I almost choked on a fry.

  “So, you in school?” Jethro wiped a smear of ketchup from the corner of his plump lower lip, and I diverted my gaze from his mouth.

  Clearing my throat, I sipped at my shake and nodded. “Uh, yeah. U of M, Baltimore.”

  His eyes lit up, and he paused with an onion ring half-in, half-out of his mouth. “Really? My sisters are in the nursing program there. What do you study?”

  “Social work with a minor in sociology,” I said, and he blinked, clearly surprised. “How far are your sisters in the program?”

  “It’s their first year. They’re twins,” he clarified. “I’m the oldest of five and the only male, so prepare yourself. They get boy crazy when I bring friends home.”

  I picked at the fries on my plate as I imagined having that many siblings and all girls. “Yikes, that’s a lot of estrogen. How old are they?”

  This time, his genuine grin was gentle, and his features softened. “Miriam and Mary are twins and they’re nineteen. Rachel is fifteen, and Ruthie is the youngest at eight.”

  “And they were all created on purpose?” I asked before I thought it through, and Jethro frowned. “Sorry, that sounded bad. I mean, I’m an only child so five sounds like a lot.”

  He relaxed as he circled the rim of the plastic water cup with his index finger. “My parents both came from big families, and they loved kids. Granted, Ruthie was a surprise, but our family wouldn’t be complete without her.”

  As he polished off his burgers, I finished my shake and started on the one I’d originally ordered for Jethro. “And how old are you?”

  “Turning twenty-two in a couple of days.”

  “Really? Well, happy early birthday,” I said, and he waved it off immediately. “Are you graduating this year, then?”

  His easy demeanor hardened, and he twisted his paper napkin between his fingers until it frayed. “No, I’m, uh, taking some time off school. Gonna stay home for a while.”

  “Why?” I always put my foot in my mouth, and this time was no different.

  The plastic booth squeaked as Jethro shifted in discomfort at the question. “Money’s tight, so I’m gonna stick around town for a bit and help out. I’ll be starting part time at the garage in Oak Hill, and in the summer, I’ll be helping my dad. He’s a white water raft instructor. In the off season, I’ll probably work with him at the sawmill in Flat Top.”

  “You’re quitting school to work at a sawmill?”

  Red splotched across his cheeks and neck as he ripped his napkin into confetti. “Well, Ruthie needs braces, and Rachel’s in high school now. She needs money for her clubs and art. The twins are just starting out in Baltimore, and they’re staying on campus, which is never cheap.”

  “They’re your sisters, not your kids.”

  “They’re family!” he barked, and I jumped in my seat as his jaw clenched. “It’s just a couple semesters. I’ll go back and finish my degree, eventually.”

  An awkward silence descended, and I pushed away the remaining ice cream in my cup, no longer hungry. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

  “It’s cool.” He blew a heavy breath through his nose as he raked a hand through his hair. “Sometimes, life doesn’t turn out the way you thought. You gotta do what you need to do, not what you want. So…”

  Guilt settled heavily in my gut as I stared at my hands in my lap. All my life, I’d done what I wanted. My dad was one of the only judges in the county and made enough money that Mom never had to work. She still did, but it was superfluous. She coordinated events, weddings, and parties—rich people work. We always had extra cash, and I’d never had a limit on my credit card. I supposed I was spoiled, but that was life.

  Yet, I was the one standing on a bridge contemplating jumping as Jethro sacrificed his dreams so his sisters would have the chance to pursue theirs. My problems felt rather insignificant in this moment, selfish even.

  “Let’s not talk about my shitty life.” He chuckled awkwardly as he cleaned up the napkin snowflakes and piled them on his empty plate.

  “Well, we can’t talk about mine, ’cause then I’d just sound like a whiny rich boy.” The bite to my tone hurt my ears, and Jethro worried his bottom lip.

  “At least you’re not white,” he muttered, glancing at me from under his lashes, and the curve to his mouth erased the tension between us.

  We both snorted with laughter. “Yeah, at least there’s that.”

  As we nursed our waters, we talked about everything and nothing. Patrons came and went around us as time ticked away, and I found myself no longer watching the clock. Instead, I focused on the way Jethro’s eyes sparkled anytime he spoke about engineering or mechanics. His hands waved expressively around his face when he got excited about a topic, and I knew when I hit a sore spot by the way his shoulders hunched.

  I laughed more in that hour and a half than I had in the last month. When Patty eventually kicked us out at nine thirty, I was wiping humored tears from my eyes as Jethro blushed.

  “So, did it work? The pudding?”

  His ears turned lobster red as he shoved me. “I’m not telling you that.”

  “Which means it did,” I inferred, smirking evilly. “I bet your ass smelled like vanilla for hours.”

  Choking, he rubbernecked to ensure we couldn’t be overheard. “Excuse me! What an assumption to make about me. Maybe it was my cock that smelled like vanilla.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest and jutted his chin out as we stopped at the nose of his car, and I scanned him suggestively. “Nah.”

  I strutted to the passenger side, and his jaw dropped in scandalized shock. I couldn’t hide my entertainment at the color painting his face. His freckles stood out starkly against his maroon cheeks.

  “You getting in?” I asked before collapsing into his car.

  It took several stubborn seconds before he stomped to the driver’s side door and yanked it open aggressively. “You’re an asshole,” he hissed as he buckled his seatbelt, and I chuckled.

  “At least mine isn’t vanilla flavored.”

  “Shut the fuck up, Sam!” He punched my shoulder hard, and I lost it, howling with laughter as he pulled out of The Station’s parking lot.

  He ignored me for most of the drive, passive-aggressively battling me over the music choice on the radio. Finally, he smacked my hand away with a glower, and I submitted.

  “Okay, sorry. I was just teasing,” I said, but he continued to ignore me. “Jethro, I’m sure you’re the toppiest top who ever topped.”

  Rolling his head to the side, he cocked a disbelieving eyebrow, and I smiled innocently. “I am a good top.”

  “I’m sure you are,” I agreed readily, trying not to envision him in such a naked scenario.

  “Why are we even talking about my sex life?” His eyes narrowed accusingly, and I backtracked immediately.

  “Hey, you brought it up!”

  He focused on the road, his fingers drumming unevenly on the wheel. “Well, it’s a funny story, and you have a nice laugh.”

  The compliment surprised me, and my neck heated as we avoided eye contact. “Oh, uh, thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  With his full bottom lip trapped between his teeth, he stared out the windshield as we drove the rest of the way in silence.

  Chapter Three

  Sink

  Pulling to a stop in front of a modest one-story house in a sleepy neighbo
rhood in Oak Hills, Jethro activated the emergency brake and unbuckled his seat belt. I studied the small house, wondering how a family of seven fit inside of it as the Christmas lights blinked and flickered in a steady rhythm.

  The guilt from my comfortable financial situation resurfaced as I exited Jethro’s car, studying the sagging roof ladened with snow. For a minute, I truly feared the lack of stability, envisioning the weight of the snow officially smashing in the roof for good. I shook off the strange thought. The house wasn’t going to collapse.

  “Well, this is home.” Jethro stopped beside me, hands in his pockets as he rocked on his heels. “It can get overwhelming, so if you need to escape, just let me know.”

  His smile was slightly teasing, but I had a feeling he was serious about the overwhelming part. With four younger sisters, I assumed there was no way for it not to be overwhelming. As an only child, any type of familial group felt large. My mom had no siblings, and my dad’s only sister lived out west in Oregon. My abuela was the only family I saw on a regular basis; she lived with my parents ever since her heart attack two years ago.

  Surprisingly, excitement stirred in my gut at the prospect of experiencing Jethro’s family. I took a step forward, then paused when he remained stationary. His face had hardened, and he scowled at the house. Immune to my presence, he ground his teeth as emotion played through his eyes, too quickly to catch each one.

  But I didn’t need to read his mind to know he was conflicted. I could understand why. He loved his family, was sacrificing so much for them, yet that same sacrifice left a bitter aftertaste. This place was his home, filled with what I hoped were good memories, but it would quickly become his prison.

  “Jethro?” My fingers grazed his forearm, and he startled at the touch.

  Blinking away the shadows, he ran a hand through his hair and chuckled mirthlessly. “Sorry. Spaced out.” Still, he didn’t move toward the house. “You know, we don’t have to be here. I mean, I said I’d help you, and this is a waste of ti—”

  I interrupted him, my fingers circling his wrist. “I want to meet your family. I want to be here.”

  With a suspicious frown, he stepped toe-to-toe with me and narrowed his eyes. I didn’t submit to the challenging stance, unmoving as he leaned so close our noses almost touched. Mountain Fresh clashed with menthol smoke, yet the combination was confusingly pleasant. Golden flecks flared around his pupils, sparkling in contrast to the hazel of his irises.

  “You’re just saying that.” He scrutinized me.

  Impatient, I shook my head and sighed, my breath clouding the space between us. “No, I’m not. I want to meet the people you’re willing to sacrifice your future for.”

  As if my words burned him, he jerked away from me and harrumphed. “If you even think about saying that in front of my family, I’ll drive you back to that bridge myself!”

  The severity of his words and the fury coloring his face red smacked me upside the head, and I held my hands in surrender. “That’s not—”

  “Forget it.” He swiped his hand through the air to erase the odd exchange. “Sorry, it’s just… forget it.”

  Without another word, he trudged to the front door, and I followed behind him quietly. He opened the door and motioned me inside. My foot had barely crossed the threshold when several feminine voices squealed from the recesses of the house.

  “Jethro!”

  I froze automatically, and when four bodies surged into the corridor and barreled toward us, Jethro shot me a quirky grin over his shoulder. Three heads of blonde hair rushed at Jethro, followed by a smaller, darker brunette. Jethro’s slumped shoulders lifted the moment he laid eyes on his sisters, and he opened his arms wide in welcome and laughed.

  As they converged on their brother, his sisters shouted indecipherable words, but I recognized the positive excitement in their tones. They were happy to see him. Had he not been home since his final semester at college ended? Where had he been wasting time?

  “Hey, Mary, Miriam, Rachel. Hey, watch it!” He almost lost his balance as the three taller teenagers lunged at him, but he managed to catch them and himself before they all tumbled to the ground.

  “Jet! I can’t… hey… Mom!” The fourth and final sister was significantly smaller, and she pushed and shoved at the three older girls, unable to break through to greet her brother. She jumped and whined, finally crossing her skinny arms over her narrow chest. “Mom!”

  In a flurry of movement, Jethro escaped the four-person embrace and lowered himself to one knee. “Hey, Ruthie, come here.”

  With tears in her big, blue eyes, the child sniffled and buried her face in Jethro’s chest. An older woman with gray-streaked blonde hair appeared in the archway leading into the house from the entryway. Laugh lines crinkled around her mouth and the corners of her blue eyes as she watched Jethro lift Ruth into his arms. Aged wrinkles carved into her brow, but the joy on her face combined with the kindness in her eyes made her glow beautifully.

  My own mother invested in the latest skin care products and wore several layers of makeup to ensure her wrinkles couldn’t be seen. But she didn’t often radiate light the way Jethro’s mother seemed to.

  Jethro passed the three teenage sisters to hug his mother, bending at the waist to eliminate the height difference. With Ruth squashed between them, mother and son embraced and exchanged chaste kisses on the cheek. Ruth’s little hands clasped the back of Jethro’s neck as she clung to him like a monkey, and two of the blondes—the twins, I assumed—whispered between themselves.

  The middle girl—Rachel, was it?—noticed me first, and my grip on the door handle tightened as her lips parted. “Who the heck is that?”

  At her question, all eyes focused on me, and my neck sweltered as I straddled the doorstep, half-inside, half-outside their house. Every gaze, barring Jethro’s of course, was bright blue, and the resemblance between the mother and the three blonde girls was uncanny. If age was taken out of the equation, they could have been quadruplets.

  Ruth was the only exception. I saw more of Jethro, who I assumed resembled his father, in her round face.

  As the silence stretched, I cleared my throat and straightened my spine, lifting a hand in greeting. “Um, hello.”

  “This is Sam.” Jethro jumped in, shifting Ruth until she perched on his hip, arms around his neck. “Sam, this is my family. Rachel, Mary, Miriam, Ruthie, and my mother, Eleanor.”

  Rachel was easier to distinguish given her more youthful appearance, and she waved when Jethro introduced her. The twins also smiled in greeting at the exact same time, but since Jethro didn’t point out which was which, I couldn’t tell who was who. They were identical save for a few subtle differences in height and weight.

  When Jethro said Ruth’s name, the little girl hid her face in his shoulder shyly. He kissed the top of her head before rubbing a palm over his mother’s arm gently. Eleanor recovered from her surprise and approached me, pushing her daughters aside.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Sam. Please come in out of the cold.” She gestured me inside, and I closed the door behind me and shook her outstretched hand.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Ma’am. Sorry for barging in on your family’s holiday.”

  “Oh, tut, tut.” She cupped my face and beamed at me. “You’re more than welcome, dear. Just remove your shoes, if you don’t mind.”

  She released my face and shot Jethro an inscrutable look over her shoulder. Slipping off my shoes, I smiled in greeting at Rachel and the twins, all three of whom continued to stare at me. Rachel’s expression was predatory and terrifying for a fifteen-year-old, and I remembered Jethro’s warning about his sisters being “boy crazy”.

  The twins assessed me haughtily, arms crossed over their ample chests in matching stances of appraisal, and I straightened my sweatshirt and did my best not to wither. Apparently, I passed inspection, and they both relaxed at the same time.

  “Hi, Sam,” they chorused, and I nodded.

  “Hello.”r />
  After another moment of chaotic noise and color, Jethro appeared beside me, kicking off his own shoes. “Sorry, I didn’t think they’d attack as a group.”

  “No problem.” Ruth was still in Jethro’s arms, and I wiggled my fingers with what I hoped was a non-threatening smile. “Hi, Ruth.”

  “Hello,” she mumbled against Jethro’s shirt, watching me warily as she took refuge in her brother’s neck.

  “She’s shy,” Jethro mouthed, craning his neck to peer down at her. “It’s okay, Ruthie, Sam’s real nice.”

  She didn’t respond, and I waved off the apologetic shrug he sent me. “It’s fine.”

  Following Jethro and Ruth, I entered the living room, and claustrophobia instantly took hold. With the sheer amount of bodies in such a small space, it was impossible not to pull in my elbows and hunch my shoulders. I felt too large, even though I was shorter than Jethro.

  “Sam, this is my dad, David. Dad, my friend, Sam.”

  David rose from a worn recliner and ran a hand through thinning brown hair, smiling in welcome. “Damn, Jet, he’s a looker, ain’t he?” He offered me his hand as Jethro’s face fell in horror, cheeks flushing. “Nice to meet you, Sam.”

  My neck warmed, darkening with a blush. “You, too, Sir. Sorry for party-crashing.”

  “Not at all. A friend of Jet’s is a friend of ours.” With a not-so-subtle thumbs up in Jethro’s direction, David clapped my shoulder before lumbering back to his recliner.

  “He’s just a friend, Dad,” Jethro hissed through clenched teeth, and I chuckled at his embarrassment.

  “Wow, sweetie, I know we haven’t defined the relationship yet, but you don’t have to be so cold.” I feigned hurt as Jethro turned his glare on me.

  Eleanor appeared with two beers, ending the awkward encounter, and I accepted a bottle with a gracious smile. Jethro received another kiss on his cheek from his mother, smiling tightly through his irritation.

  “I was wondering when you were coming home,” she chided.

  “Well, I’m here now.”

  Ruth wriggled in Jethro’s hold, sliding down his body to the floor where she scampered away without a look in our direction. Eleanor ushered us into the living room, and I sat on the lumpy, dated couch. Rachel stole the spot next to me before Jethro could sit, and he snickered wickedly as he sat on my other side. Apparently, my punishment was dealing with his too-young sister.