Still Rattled

by Charles, Jane

  Okay, maybe a total stranger in our home would be a bad idea.

  Kelsey narrows her eyes on me. “I don’t like surprises. And I’ve already had enough today.”

  The seeing me and almost bolting from Reed’s before getting her tattoo, or the tat that wasn’t just a foot? I’m not sure I want to know. She loved the tat, but she didn’t love seeing me, at least not at first.

  “Trust me. It’s a good one. You’ll fit right in.”

  Kelsey blows out a sigh. “Listen, I don’t do family meals well. Is somebody’s family going to be there?”

  I seal my lips and make a sign like I’m throwing away the key.

  “If I’m uncomfortable, I’m leaving, okay. No making me stay.”

  Kelsey has her defenses up, like she’s afraid. I get it. I’m not exactly open to strangers either, but she’ll be happy once she sees who’s there. At least, I assume she will be. “Only long enough to fix you a plate so you can take it home.” Maybe she’ll relax knowing she can walk out the door as soon as she walks in, if that is what she wants, though I doubt it will happen that way.

  She gave me a small smile. “Is there going to be pie?”

  “Chocolate, pumpkin and cherry.”

  Her eyes practically rolled back in her head as she groans. “I can’t remember the last time I had pie.”

  I’m surprised that particular dessert didn’t bring all kinds of unpleasant memories. She was delivering a piece of pie to Brandon when he was killed.

  The smile slips. “I couldn’t eat pie for two years after Brandon died.”

  Could she fucking read my mind?

  “Then I realized, if I hadn’t been taking him a piece, I wouldn’t have been able to say goodbye and tell him that I loved him. I would have just gone home and waited for him to get off work.” Her dark eyes meet mine. “So, pie is good.”

  “And, these will be delicious.”

  The train slows and I glance out to see where we are. I haven’t been paying close attention to the stops, but we’re getting close.

  Close? Hell, this is my stop. If I hadn’t decided to look this time, we would have gone right past and that would have been a pain in the ass to get off at the next stop, and then go around and grab the train going in the opposite direction.

  “Here we are.”

  She takes a deep breath and steps out onto the platform. “Are you sure they won’t mind?”

  “I promise,” grabbing her hand, I head for the stairs to exit the subway.

  Five steps lead up to the four-story, dark brick brownstone, and I swallow hard. I’ll just go in, say hello to whoever, get my plate, and leave.

  Or, maybe not. That’s kind of rude.

  Taking a deep breath, I walk up the steps. What the hell am I even doing here? Lured by the promise of turkey. God, I’m easy.

  Well, not that easy. I’ll share a table with Alex, and anybody else inside that brownstone, but nothing else.

  He opens the door for me, and I step into a roomy foyer. To the left is a wide, dark wood staircase. The thick plaster on the cream wall is chipped in places and the worn steps have seen better days. Alex did say they had a lot more work ahead of them.

  “Alex? That you?” A voice calls from somewhere in the back of the house. “Who did you bring with you?”

  I blink at him. He told them he was bringing me? Well, at least I won’t be a total surprise.

  Alex gestures to a large entryway, squared off by dark wood, and I’m ushered into a living room. It’s pretty basic with mismatched furniture that includes an olive green couch, blue easy chair, black recliner and a rocking chair that looks like a dog used the bottom to sharpen his teeth. Old area rugs of orange, yellow and red are on the floor. Even if it is eclectic and thrown together, it feels like a home. Beyond the living room is a huge dining table that seats about twelve, though not all of the places are set, nor do the chairs match the table. I like it. It matches the living room. Beyond that is the kitchen.

  At least I’m not the only girl. A blond female is sampling dressing or something but is a bit overdressed in her fur coat. Or, maybe I’m underdressed in my jeans and t-shirt.

  The blonde looks up and I gasp. “She’s beautiful,” I whisper. “Who is she?”

  Alex snorts. “Zach is gonna love that.”

  “Zach?”

  The blonde glances at me, and her eyes go wide. “Kelsey Fry?”

  Well that deep voice sure as hell didn’t belong to a woman.

  Another guy leans over and looks through the doorway. It takes me a minute to remember his name, but I sure recognize the face. “Dylan White?” He’d been in Alex’s class. A year ahead of me. We weren’t friends, but we knew one another.

  “Did someone say Kelsey Fry?”

  I turn and find Christian Sucato coming down the stairs. Any reservations I felt about coming here just melt away. Christian and I were in the same music classes together and were friends. I missed him when he graduated with Alex and Dylan.

  He jumps to the landing and comes forward before picking me up in a bear hug and swinging me around.

  After he sets me down he looks into my eyes. His light brown ones are as warm as I remember. “Good to see ya again, Kels.”

  “Damn, it’s good to see you,” the cross-dresser says, coming forward before he kisses me on the cheek.

  I study his features and slowly I see the guy behind the heavy makeup. “Zach? Zachary Hawk?” I only knew him because he hung with Christian, but Zach was usually doing the theatre thing. He was an awesome actor back at Baxter.

  “You got lipstick all over her cheek.” Dylan pushes him aside and uses the dishtowel he’s carrying to wipe my face. Then he turns to Zach. “Go get cleaned up, unless you’re going to eat dressed like that.”

  “Hell, no!” Zach hikes his skirt past his knees and heads for the stairs, taking them two at a time. “My girdle is not designed for a Thanksgiving meal.”

  “Take your shoes,” Dylan yells up the stairs. “Before somebody trips over them and breaks his neck.”

  A pair of black and red platforms were left in the middle of the floor, and I assume they must be Zach’s.

  He runs back down the stairs but someone is following him. “Dammit Zach, can’t you use your own bath for those fucking wigs?”

  “Zach designs wigs and hair for drag queens,” Alex whispers in my ear. “When they need to be washed, he fills a tub of water, swishes them around in the water and soap, and leaves them to soak for hours.”

  “I had to shower this morning and get ready for the show,” Zach explains as he grabs the shoes from the middle of the floor.

  “Couldn’t you have washed your damn wigs after you were done, in your tub?” The person with the voice finally comes into view, and he stops mid-step when he sees me. “Kelsey Fry?”

  “Sean Vines?” I laugh. Did everyone who lives here once go to Baxter? So far, they were all in Alex’s graduating class. I knew they were all friends of Alex back then, but they never treated me bad, and certainly not with the hatred Alex did.

  “So, you’re Alex’s guest.” Then he frowns. “If anyone would have told me that Alex would be bringing you home, I would have never believed it.”

  My face heats. They may have been friendly toward me, but it wasn’t a secret to anyone on campus how Alex and I felt about each other.

  “That was a long time ago,” Alex reminded him.

  Sean clears his throat. “Of course.” Then he grins at me. “Good to see ya, Kels. Glad you’re joining us for dinner.”

  The front door opens and a burst of cold air floods the room.

  “I hate crowds, and next time someone wants me to photograph a parade, make sure I say no.”

  I can’t believe it. Ryan Stark just walked into the house, and he’s carrying a camera case. Just like he always did at Baxter.

  He stops and looks up as shock registers on his face. “Kelsey?”

  I just shrug and smile.

  “Damn you look g
ood.” He lifts the case and gets his camera out. He’s pointing at me before I have a chance to stop him.

  I roll my eyes and hold up a hand to block my face. “Put that away.”

  Ryan was probably one of my first friends at Baxter. In the beginning, I was a subject to him. He was obsessed with my pregnancy and my growing belly. He took photos of me every day, at the same time of day, tracking the growth. We used to have to hide from the counselors because he didn’t want my belly obstructed by clothing. When the counselor found out, we were both in trouble, but once he explained it was a study in the human form, and promised not to do it ever again, neither one of us got punished or kicked out of school. However, we were given a very stern talking to about boundaries, respect, and boys and girls not seeing each other’s skin or private body parts. I was eight months pregnant so it should be obvious I knew what happened when private body parts were viewed and touched. Not that I was in a position to get pregnant, but there was a strict no fraternization policy in place at Baxter, and I assume there still is.

  Despite the warnings, and chance of getting in trouble, Ryan and I still snuck away so he could take pictures, which he did up to the very day I delivered Brandy.

  I never did see those photos, and I’m not sure if I want to.

  “Let me get changed, and I’ll get the wigs out of your tub,” Zach tells Sean as he heads up the stairs.

  Is he transgender, gay, straight, cross-dresser, drag queen, had a sex change, going to have a sex change? With that deep voice, he’s got to still have his balls, so no sex change yet. Not that it matters. I’m just curious.

  “Can I get you a glass of wine, Kelsey?”

  I blink at Dylan, still coming to terms with the fact that I’m standing in the house of guys I went to high school with and haven’t seen in almost five years. Alex and I may have hated each other, but seeing Christian, Dylan, Zachary, Ryan and Sean is almost like coming home.

  I’m used to living with the guys, but I don’t think we’ve had a meal together since Easter. We’ve all got crazy schedules and are hardly all here at the same time, unless we’re sleeping, and even that isn’t a guarantee, depending on jobs.

  This is nice. The six of us around the dining room table, an awesome meal, bottles of wine and Kelsey.

  Dinner and dessert have been eaten, but we are still sitting here, drinking and talking, as if none of us have seen each other in years. I really need to talk to my roommates more often. We just fell into a rhythm after leaving Baxter. We stuck together at college and then got a place together as soon as we could get out of the dorms, and have been together since. We’re family.

  Kelsey’s smiling and laughing, more relaxed than I’ve ever seen her since she walked in for her tat this morning. She needs this family too. “Have you kept in touch with anyone from high school?”

  She shrugs. “I did at first, but we all went our own ways. Too busy concentrating on school, getting good grades so we would keep getting scholarships and financial aid.”

  Just like me and my roommates.

  It also means she’s without a family. If she had one, she wouldn’t be having Thanksgiving with us.

  Kelsey frowns and tilts her head. I look over my shoulder at the chalkboard on the wall.

  “Why is that familiar?” she asks.

  “Told you nobody would think a chalkboard in the dining room is odd,” Sean reminds us.

  “It is odd,” Kelsey counters with a smile. “What’s on it is familiar but I can’t place it.”

  Ryan gets up and writes “Baxter” in the largest circle at the top, then draws an arrow down to six empty circles. We know what they mean, but nobody else would. He then writes one of our names in each one. Beneath each name are three arrows pointing down. “Does that help?”

  She frowns. “Not really.”

  “Old movie, from I think, 2000,” offers Christian.

  “I was seven, in foster care and not going to movies,” she reminds us and then her eyebrows form a V over her nose. “You guys are only a year older. You were going to movies?”

  Zach laughs. “No. We actually saw it the first time last Easter.”

  The last time we had a meal together.

  “Zoe caught it on TV, got the DVD and made us all watch it, but she had to leave the room at the end because she couldn’t watch that part again,” Ryan answered.

  Kelsey is just shaking her head, confused.

  “Pay It Forward,” Dylan answers.

  Recognition lights in Kelsey’s eyes, and then she becomes serious, and thoughtful. “I get it. That’s what the kid drew on the board to explain how he was going to make a difference. If you do something for three people and those three people go out and do something for three people each, the cycle will continue.”

  “I’d like to think it was our brilliant idea, doing good deeds and all, but it wasn’t. Hell, we didn’t even get the idea until we saw the movie,” I tell her. “But that movie stuck with us and we got to talking afterwards. Where would we be without Baxter?”

  “The streets, doing drugs, dealing drugs,” Zach says.

  “Gangs or prison,” adds Dylan.

  “Dead,” says Sean.

  “So, we are trying to pay it forward whenever we can.” I shrug.

  Interest lights in her brown eyes. “How?”

  “It’s not that much,” Dylan says as he starts cleaning up the dessert plates from table.

  “Right now it’s just serving in the soup kitchen,” Sean says.

  “It’s better to be on the serving end than the receiving,” Ryan shudders. “Not that the food is bad, but all that goes with it is. So poor that you can’t afford a meal, or maybe not even a place to live. I don’t want to ever visit that life again.”

  “Someday, when we have money,” I start.

  “If we ever have money,” Dylan laughs.

  “We are going to do something big. Really make a difference.”

  Sean lifts his glass of wine. “To Baxter.”

  “To Baxter,” we echo and toast.

  I set mine back on the table. “Speaking of Baxter, guess where Kelsey has an interview tomorrow to teach voice and piano.”

  Her eyes widen, and she grabs her phone. “Shit! I’ve got to get home.”

  “Why, what time is it?”

  “Midnight! I’ve got to get up early, get ready, get to the train.”

  “What time’s the interview?” Ryan asks.

  “Three.”

  “You’ve got plenty of time. It’s not like you need to be there at nine in the morning.”

  “Still, it’s late. I should go.” She gets up from her seat. “Thanks for a great meal, the wine, and a really awesome night.”

  “Kelsey, you’re not riding the subway this late at night. Especially alone,” says Christian as he stands. “I’ll call you a car.”

  “I’m not spending money on a car,” she says as she heads to the living room.

  I assume she’s going for her coat and bag.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Then we are going with you,” I insist. All of us head out of the dining room.

  “That’s ridiculous. I don’t need six guys riding the subway with me. I don’t need any of you riding with me.”

  “We aren’t willing to risk it,” Ryan says.

  “You know, I did live on these streets, and have been back in the city for three and a half years.”

  “You’re invincible?” Ryan asks.

  “You’re one of ours Kelsey,” I tell her. “You either let a couple of us take you home, or you crash here.”

  I stretch, blink open my eyes and go still. This is not my room. It’s Alex’s. Not that he slept in here with me. No, he insisted I take his bed and he’d take the couch after I argued with all six of the guys last night. They wouldn’t let me leave without them, and I didn’t want them to go to all the trouble. And, even though I put on a brave front about riding the subway that late on my own, I really didn’t want to, nor was I
really looking forward to the six block walk to my apartment in the middle of the night.

  In the end, I agreed to sleep here and go home in the morning, which started an entirely different argument about where I was going to sleep. I was fine with the couch. They’d already fed me a fantastic meal, I didn’t want to take one of their beds too, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to sleep with any one of them. Not that I thought they’d try anything, but it was a line I didn’t want to cross.

  As I was making the couch up, intent on crawling under the blankets, the guys drew straws. Fucking straws, and Alex came out the loser. When I wouldn’t budge from the couch, he picked me up, carried me up the stairs and tossed me onto his queen-size bed, then grinned. “’Night Kelsey. Sweet dreams.”

  I don’t remember any of them being this bossy or protective in school. Of course, there were teachers and counselors all over the place, so it wasn’t like they had to really look out for anyone.

  Plus, we were all a mess back then. Each with our own issues that brought us to Baxter. Not that any of us ever really talked about our lives before we got to the school, but we all knew we came from something similar.

  Alex is the first one who ever told me about his past. I’m glad I know because what happened at school now makes total sense. Not that I needed to know, but I’m glad I do. And, I’m glad he knows mine. It’s nice being able to share my truth with someone. Especially when it’s a someone who doesn’t judge. Or, at least he doesn’t now.

  I force myself out of his bed, which is really hard to do because it’s so comfortable. The sheets and pillowcase smell like him, a scent I can’t really define, except it’s Alex. It’s comfort. It’s familiar.

  After making the bed, I find the bathroom. It practically sparkles in here with the white and grey tile and silver faucet. These guys are cleaner than the four girls in my apartment put together. Even Alex’s room is clean with nothing out of place and nothing is dusty. Bachelors live here. Isn’t it an unspoken rule that they are slobs or at least a little messy?

  Hoping they don’t mind, I borrow a brush and try to repair the damage to my hair, not that it will do any good. What I need to do is get home, shower and get ready.