Fall through Spring

by Amy Lane

  Skipper just shook his head and clapped his hand over his mouth.

  “Do you see?” Mrs. Bradford was beside herself. “We really must have the old Mason back. The world needs that sort of man!”

  Carpenter and Skipper both nodded, because they wholeheartedly agreed.

  Mason’s heartbreak over his squirrel-bait boyfriend was depressing everybody, including Dane, who was currently entertaining Carpenter’s niece and nephew since their parents were gone for the summer. Yeah, sure, they had a nanny, and Gertrude on the weekends, but kids liked to have someone who would play volleyball-in-the-water-jungle or the-sun-is-lava with them.

  Dane had cheerfully taken them on since Carpenter had to work and he was on summer break, and besides being grateful because Dane was doing his family a solid, Clay was also happy for the excuse to see Dane pretty much continuously when he wasn’t working. It was especially convenient that Dane had agreed to take Mason’s spot on the team, since making him play with Jefferson so soon after the breakup was just too cruel.

  Playing goalie with Dane as a defender was like a reward for all the times Carpenter had tried out for sports in middle school and failed because he was too awkward. Dane thought the move, Carpenter mirrored the move, and together they kept the ball out of the goal. Carpenter was finally getting to a place where he could play an entire game while Singh subbed for the midfield, and as a whole, Skipper said they were actually winning on a regular basis. Everyone was giving him lavish praise.

  Carpenter was not above taking it.

  If Mason had felt comfortable enough to play, Clay would feel like, just this once, for a bright, shining moment, he had all the people he cared about in the same place and he could be happy.

  Objectively he knew it was harder than that. Dane had another year of school to go, and Clay himself couldn’t stay in the IT pool forever. Skipper had begun a grim and subtle campaign to get him off his ass and into a situation wherein he could use his degree at Tesko, but Clay wasn’t ready.

  Not yet.

  Working with Skip had led to meeting Mason. Meeting Mason had led to falling in love with Dane. Carpenter was so very much in love with Dane—he wasn’t ready to let go of the beginnings and move on to the rest of his life yet.

  He’d never expected this sort of happiness. He needed to make sure it stuck, and it couldn’t do that if Mason was breaking his fucking heart.

  The door opened and Hugh Goodman stepped out. Shorter than Mason, tightly sculpted, he looked like the love child of a fitness guru and a CW television star. Carpenter actually had to swallow his tongue, and next to him he heard Skip’s despondent, “Oh, Mason….”

  Goodman nodded genially to Mrs. Bradford and gave Carpenter and Skip a social smile.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow during lunch,” he said, biting his lip in a show of uncertainty that was probably uncharacteristic. “I….” He looked apologetically at Skip and Carpenter with their Noodle House takeout bags. “I mean, he doesn’t have another appointment, right?”

  “No, sir,” Mrs. Bradford said crisply. “I shall pencil you in and let you know if that changes. Gentlemen? I do believe you can go in now.”

  Skipper and Carpenter met eyes grimly. Oh, they most certainly would.

  “IT’S LIKE he doesn’t even notice other people are there!” Clay complained to Dane later. “This guy was hot! I mean… hot! I’d fantasize about licking his abs—”

  “You need to lick mine first, you know that, right?” They were lying in bed, because, per usual, Clay was staying the night. He’d started to wonder if Dane would be willing to put some of his prints up in the bedroom, and maybe move in a dresser or something. The couch they could leave by the side of the road—he’d already said his goodbyes.

  “Of course, baby.” Clay patted his head as Dane rested it on Clay’s stomach and read. “Your abs are first in the licking. That’s not my point here.”

  “Your point is that he’s depressed and it’s driving you crazy,” Dane summarized. “Join the club. I mean, you can fantasize about rando-guy’s abs all you want, I’m thinking about lithium blow darts. So who’s more serious here?”

  Carpenter’s eyes widened. From Dane, that may or may not be hyperbole. “I just wish there was something we could do,” he muttered. Then he brightened a little. “But we’re having a formal little dinner party this Saturday. That’ll be fun.”

  “A laugh riot,” Dane deadpanned. “I’ll be thrilled. By the way, the weekend afterward, me and Mason are taking my parents out for their anniversary.” He let out a little grunt and rolled to his stomach, resting his chin on Carpenter’s shoulder, which was a lot less comfortable than his head on Carpenter’s abs.

  “I’d bring you,” he said pensively. “I mean, I want them to meet you. But I’m not sure—”

  “This is private,” Carpenter said, understanding. “You and me can go down later in the summer if you like—I’d love to meet them.”

  Dane grunted. “So, about your parents….” He gave Clay the puppy-dog eyes, and Clay dropped a kiss on his forehead.

  “Don’t worry. Next time I see them, I’ll be all about my boyfriend, Dane, who’s so very wonderful, which they already know since you’ve met them half a dozen times in the last six months.”

  Dane grunted again. “But not as your boyfriend.”

  Carpenter let out his own grunt. “Between my parents, my sister, and her husband, there’s, like, six billion years of education in that house. Do you honestly think they haven’t figured it out?”

  “Clay—”

  “All right! I swear! Next time I see them, I shall make all the things clear.” He gave a little smile. “I’m really happy, you know.”

  “So am I.” Dane sighed. “Or I would be….”

  “If only your brother could get his shit together. I know.”

  It was worrisome. Clay was so preoccupied, in fact, that his meeting with his parents only dinged his radar on the edges. Maybe he should have thought more about it.

  Their track record of listening to what he needed, as opposed to what they wanted, had never really been great, after all.

  WHEN MASON and Dane left to visit their parents, Carpenter bid them goodbye early in the morning, grateful that there was no game that Saturday because the heat was already intense. Then he went to his apartment, which was getting dusty and starting to smell of disuse, to shower. He spent half an hour cleaning up, including taking the summer clothes he hadn’t worn in the past month to the thrift store. If he hadn’t liked it enough to schlep it to Dane’s place and fold on top of his dresser, it wasn’t a thing he particularly needed, was it?

  He got to his parents’ house around one in the afternoon, wearing swim trunks and a sunblock T-shirt. He didn’t even bother to go inside, but instead went around to the back, where he could hear the kids in the pool.

  “Clay!” Holly called from on top of the slide. “You came! Where’s Uncle Dane!”

  “He went to visit his folks,” Clay called back as he went to sit by his mother. She was working desultorily on her laptop, facing the kids, and Gertrude, the nanny, was relaxing in the shade on the other side of the pool.

  “Come play with us!” Jason begged plaintively. “Pleeeeeeze?”

  “We’ll have to see, guys. I may have to go home. Let me talk to your grandma first.”

  “Good afternoon, Clay,” his mother said pleasantly. She lifted her cheek for a kiss, and Clay sat down in the shade kitty-corner to her so he could watch the kids play too. “So glad you could come help.”

  “Yeah, well, Dane’s been doing a lot of the work. Sorry I’ve got the pesky day job, Mom.”

  She didn’t roll her eyes, which was to her credit, but for some reason it was like he could hear that anyway.

  “You know, there are so many things you can do with your degrees that don’t involve putting people out of jobs, Clay. I wish you would—”

  “Yeah, Dane’s brother might have a line on something for me,” Clay said
reluctantly. He hadn’t wanted to spill this, but he’d been talking to Mrs. Bradford and listening when Mason talked about work. It was a kind thing Mason was trying to do—create a position for Clay and Skipper to help employees who wanted upward mobility get more education so they could stay in the company and make more money.

  “What does Dane’s brother do?” his mother asked, and the unconscious snobbery in her voice made Clay wince. She didn’t even know she was doing it. She just assumed Dane of the Jesus hair and sarcastic delivery and magical brain wouldn’t know anybody who could help Clay out of his career funk.

  “He’s VP of mergers and acquisitions at Tesko,” he told his mother, taking a little bit of joy out of watching her swallow her figurative gum.

  “Oh,” she said, blinking. “I… I didn’t expect that. Dane’s a joy, you know—having his help with the children in the last few weeks has been a real blessing. I just…. He’s not a conventional young man.”

  Clay smiled softly. “Yeah, that’s what I love about him.”

  He met his mother’s eyes and hoped she’d hear the whole message. Her own eyes widened, and she looked momentarily startled, like a possum in the headlights, before she blinked and looked away.

  “Be careful of how that sounds, Clay,” she said softly. “You may give people the wrong impression.”

  “That I’m in love?” Clay prompted, just as softly. “Because it’s true.”

  She swallowed. “You… you would have told your father and I about being… you know. Being gay before this. You had girlfriends. And this isn’t funny.”

  “I wouldn’t have told you about being bisexual,” Clay said, trying not to be irritated. “Because why would I rock the boat unless I had to?”

  “That’s not fair!” she protested, looking at him finally. “Your father and I are very liberal—you should have known we’d be accepting!”

  “Are you?” Clay demanded. “Because so far I haven’t heard, ‘Oh, Clay, that’s wonderful! I’m so glad you’re in a happy relationship!’”

  “Well, I’m surprised, that’s all! Seriously, is this what all the… the rebellion has been about? The weight? The refusing to get a decent job—”

  “I have a decent job!” he snarled, surprised at the anger there. What right did he have to be angry? They’d fed him, clothed him, educated him, loved him—

  But had they ever known him?

  “Well, is this part of that?” she demanded. “Because you could do detrimental things to your life if you have a relationship out of spite, Clayton—”

  “Mom, I’m in love. I’ve been in love with girls. I know how this feels. But it’s not a girl this time. It’s Dane. And he knows me for who I am. He knows I hate my degree, and that’s okay with him. He knows why I eat, and he loves me whether I’m fat or fit. And I have seen him at his worst, and I would… I would drive fifty miles and put myself through an emotional blender just to see him smile on the other side. I know you try—you do. But you don’t know me. I’m not perfect, and I don’t want to try to be. I don’t want to work in a cancer ward, but I think I’ve found a place where I can do some good that’s not Sabrina’s life. I don’t want to be a Pac Sun medium—I don’t care how tall I am. Sometimes, I want to sit on the couch and eat cookies, and sometimes I want to play soccer and eat celery. I want to not hate myself for the things that give me joy. And if that starts with not hating myself for upsetting your little applecart of whoever you think I should be, well, that’s where it starts. I love Dane Christian Hayes. He’s a goofy, snarky, bitchy mass of contradictions, and I wouldn’t trade him in for six of my last girlfriend, and she was a great person. So you tell Dad, and you two can make your peace with me not being the son you planned on. And I hope you decide to love the son you have.”

  He took a deep breath and saw her expression transition from shock to irritation to hurt.

  “Of course I love you—”

  Clay shook his head. “You have to love the parts you don’t like, Mom. That’s part of the deal. I brought Skipper here during Thanksgiving because he’s never had a mother, and he needed one. You guys were so kind to him. You accepted him for all the great things he is. You did the same for Dane, in your own snobby way. Why can’t you do the same for me?”

  The hurt in her eyes deepened. “How do you know I don’t?” she asked bitterly.

  “Mom, do you remember when you came to my dorm room in my senior year, because you were worried? Do you remember the first thing you said?”

  She shook her head.

  “You said I’d gained weight. I was breaking my heart that year, and I was so confused. So confused. My girlfriend had moved to another school for an internship, and I had such a crush on my roommate, and I honestly contemplated dropping out and panhandling before taking one more goddamned science class. I hated what I was studying that much. And you and Dad got there and talked about how much weight I’d put on. And the rest of that shit froze up in my throat. Do you know how awful it is, to have love so close you can touch it, but so far away? To be afraid that just because you’re not perfect, your entire support system might get yanked away?”

  She held her hand to her throat for a moment. “I… I never meant for you to feel that way,” she said brokenly. “I just… your father and I just… just wanted what was best for you, that’s all.”

  Clay tried to keep the bitterness out of his smile. “Dane’s what’s best for me,” he said, and then he stood. “Look, Mom. I just dumped a lot on your lap. If you want, I can go. I’ve got the keys to Mason and Dane’s house. They said I could use the pool, invite Skip and Richie. I… I’ll be honest. The way you’re looking at me right now, I think we’d both be more comfortable if I take them up on that, okay?”

  His mother nodded weakly, and he turned heavily to go. But before he took his first step, she said, “Clay, aren’t you going to kiss me goodbye?”

  He swallowed and dashed the back of his hand across his eyes, suddenly aware of how worried he’d been. For all his brave talk to Dane, he hadn’t really known, had he? Which way this was going to go?

  But then, maybe that was the point of the conversation—not just coming out with his sexuality, but coming out with himself. He’d never known, ever, which way being himself was going to go.

  He turned back on his heel and kissed her wet cheek, taking her hand when she patted his on her shoulder.

  “Clay?” she said, as he stepped back.

  “Yeah, Mom?”

  “I love you, honey. Your dad will still love you. You’re right. It’s going to take us some time. But I just… you know. Wanted you to know that before you left.”

  He smiled briefly. “Thanks, Mom. Call me when you’re ready. Definitely let me know if you still want Dane to play with the kids, okay?”

  She nodded, looking suddenly thoughtful. “Clay?”

  “Yeah?”

  “How long have you known? That you could like men too?”

  “Since high school.”

  She let out a sigh. “That’s a long time to eat a secret, son.”

  “It’s not the only feeling I was eating, Mom. That much, I can tell you.”

  She nodded again, and it was time to go.

  ALL CARPENTER had needed to do was text I came out to my parents, want to come over? to Skip before he drove to Mason’s house, and Skip and Richie showed up with an ice chest full of flavored water and some sandwiches on wheat about a half an hour after he got there. They hit the pool for a little while, Carpenter included, because they were his friends and they wouldn’t care. Then they took turns throwing the stick across the ravine for the dog. Finally, they moved in and watched movies, because they were good friends and weren’t going to leave him alone.

  About halfway through What’s Up Doc, Dane texted, Mason got hit on at dinner. He’s like a man magnet—it’s fucking weird. TTYL

  Carpenter laughed, and when Skip glanced at him, he showed the text.

  “Fucking aces,” Skip muttered. “God, I nee
d him to be the guy that repels men again. This Mason is just so depressing.”

  “Terry’s so sad, he’s giving me hives,” Richie muttered, pausing the TV. He looked at Carpenter. “You tell Dane about your folks?”

  “Was gonna save it for a real convo,” Carpenter admitted. “All sorts of shit to unpack, you know?”

  “Yeah. But did they disown you?”

  Clay thought about the kiss on his mother’s tearstained cheek. “No. They’re going to have to… digest, I guess. But I’m still part of their DNA. They’re not gonna try to pop me off the face of the family.”

  “Like a zit?” Richie said, grinning. Well, he loved a gross metaphor as much as Dane.

  “It’s what I was afraid of,” Clay admitted.

  Richie’s grin faded. “Yeah. My dad ain’t talked to me since December. I’m glad you got a chance at keeping your family. That makes me happy. Right, Skip?”

  Skipper nodded. “Yeah. I got a letter from my dad in March.”

  Carpenter stared at him. Skip’s father had disappeared when he’d been in middle school, and his mother had hit the bottle after that. Hearing from family was a big deal for Skip, and for a moment, Carpenter wondered why Skip hadn’t told him. “I did not know that.” He grimaced. “God, fucking March.”

  “Yeah—you had some shit to take care of. Not your fault.” And like that, Clay was forgiven. He thought he needed to take Skip to his parents’ place more often, because he could give acceptance lessons just by breathing.

  “So,” Clay asked, “what did he say?”

  “Something vague about being sorry he left and wanting to reconnect. I sent back a message that I was gay, and if he wanted to talk to me, he had to be okay with that. He didn’t get back to me. I’m assuming it’s not okay.”

  Skipper’s voice was even and indifferent, but Clay knew him. Had heard him talk about his mother and how she drank herself to death. He’d seen Skip’s face when he’d been worried about Richie. This hurt him—badly—but Skip wouldn’t let that show.