by T. J. Klune
“Darren, are you bothered?” Charlie asked, and I knew what he was doing.
“Um,” Darren said, looking between Charlie and me. “No?”
Charlie grinned. I did not. Darren figured out it was the wrong answer when I tried to stab him with my fork, but by then, it was too late. And also because he stole my fork.
“What news would that be, Charlie?” Matty asked. “Is it that he’s resigning and apologizing for ever opening his mouth?” She set down her wineglass. “Oh my, that was slightly vindictive of me. Darren, Vince, I apologize. I should have never said that in front of you. At the very least, I should have waited until you left the room, then said it. I feel terrible.”
Vince shrugged. “I don’t care. I don’t really talk to him at all.”
“That’s because you have other parents now.” Larry reached over and patted his hand. He looked at Darren. “And keep it up, young man. I could be your daddy too.”
I choked on my wine.
Matty leaned over and whispered in his ear.
“Uh-huh,” Larry said. “Uh-huh. You don’t say. Right. Oh. I can see how someone might get confused at that. Right. Right. Okay.” Matty leaned back as Larry spoke to Darren. “It has come to my attention that I should not refer to myself as your daddy. If that is your kink you share with Sandy, then that’s okay, because I am not one to kink shame. But I was not hitting on you and asking you to be my baby boy. For one, I’m in a monogamous relationship with a beautiful woman. And two, you are committed to Sandy, who is my drag son.”
“Glad we cleared that up,” Darren said.
“I’m the only daddy here.” Charlie crossed his arms over his chest.
No one disagreed with him.
“And three,” Paul said to his father with a laugh, “you’re straight.”
“What?” Larry said.
“You can’t be his daddy because you’re straight,” Paul said.
“Oh,” Larry said. “Well. I suppose.”
“You suppose?” Paul wasn’t laughing.
“I wouldn’t know,” Larry said. “I’ve never tested it out.”
“Tested it out?” Paul looked rather green.
“Not everything is black and white, dear,” Matty said. “Just because your father can talk about Tom Hardy’s lips doesn’t mean he’s going to leave me for a man. He knows I would hunt him down if he ever tried to divorce me.”
“She is terrifying and I adore her.” Larry smiled lovingly at his wife.
“Tom Hardy’s lips?” Paul squeaked.
“They’re very… masculine,” Larry said. “Did you know he used to have a nudity-filled Myspace account? My word, those pictures.”
“You have fine taste in men,” Corey said.
“Thank you, Corey,” Larry said, beaming. “If you were twenty years older and I wasn’t married, I’d probably hit that. But since that’s not the case, let’s just be friends.”
“Oh my god,” Paul moaned, banging his head on the table.
“Oh dear,” Matty said. “We got distracted yet again. Charlie, I apologize. What was it the mayor seems to be doing? Did he club baby seals and then wear their coats while fracking the earth?”
“It seems he’s pushing a big holiday fundraiser to benefit some local charities,” Charlie said.
“Doesn’t he do that every year?” Nana asked. “I always thought he did it because he was trying to atone for all the evil he’d accomplished the year before.”
“Right,” Charlie said. “Usually it’s a public event, but this year, it’s apparently only for the wealthy. A thousand dollars a plate.”
I sprayed wine all over the table.
“Sorry!” I choked. “Sorry. Went down the wrong tube, oh my god, a thousand dollars a what?”
Matty was frowning at me. “I think you just spit all over the green bean casserole that no one ever eats.”
“That’s because no one likes green bean casserole,” Nana said.
“Then why do I make it?”
Nana shrugged. “Beats the heck out of me.”
“This is slightly shocking,” Matty said, raising a hand to her breast. “I feel like part of my life has been a lie.”
“How can he charge a thousand dollars a plate?” I demanded. “Isn’t that, like… unethical? Or something? It seems unethical. And maybe illegal.”
“For charity?” Charlie asked, arching an eyebrow.
“Why do we care again?” Corey asked Paul.
“I haven’t figured that out yet,” Paul said. “But, to be honest, I’m still stuck on the fact that my mother never noticed that no one ate her green bean casserole. Her powers of observation really explain a lot about me as a person.”
“A lot,” Matty agreed. “You’re welcome. Also, maybe if some just tried the green bean casserole, they would see that it was good and then brainwa—I mean, convince the others to eat it as well.”
“Not it,” Larry said.
“What charities is he doing this for?” Sherry asked.
“Casa de los Niños and Angel Wings,” Charlie said. Like a jerk.
“Aren’t those the same charities you’re having the drag bachelor auction for?” Corey asked me, scrunching up his face.
“What a coincidence,” I ground out.
“Should have let me watch football,” Charlie whispered with a grin.
“You have to try it,” Matty said. “You promised in your vows to eat whatever I made for you.”
“No,” Larry said. “I vowed that I’d consider eating whatever you made. It didn’t mean I would actually do it.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t have written our own vows,” Matty said, forehead scrunched up. “Or I should have written both of ours.”
“There’s no such thing as too much charity,” Darren said, and for some reason, he had an arm behind me on my chair, rubbing slow circles on my back. And for some reason, it was doing a lot to calm me down. So I leaned back into it, just a little. “It’s not like there’s a competition about it or anything.”
I barely restrained the look of horror that I was sure was about to burst on my face. Because that was exactly what it was. And if it was a thousand bucks a plate and he had two hundred attendees, then we were completely screwed, unless Mike was able to perform a miracle with the Super Gays. And, while amazing, there weren’t many of the Super Gays out there, especially those who were willing to part with their money. I should have known that Andrew Taylor would bring out the big heterosexual guns to the gay gunfight. Well, that was fine. Because we’d bring the motherfucking glitter cannons to the gunfight, and everyone knew that glitter cannons trumped heterosexual guns any day of the week. I’d figure something out. I always did. Especially since the future of Jack It was on the table.
I glared at Darren because he thought he was being funny, if that little smirk on his face meant anything. Like we had an inside joke about this. Any affection I might have been feeling for him was pretty much gone by the wayside. Mostly. There might have been a little bit left.
“Let’s talk about something else,” I said, trying hard not to grit my teeth.
“Like green bean casserole,” Matty said. “And how everyone loves it.”
“We decided on a venue,” Vince said. “For the wedding.”
“So no one is going to talk about the green bean casserole.” Matty frowned. “Awkward.”
“Uh-oh,” Paul said.
“Why uh-oh?” I asked.
Paul sighed. “Because I agreed to have it at the horse farm. We already booked the date and put down the deposit.”
“It’s not a horse farm.” Vince rolled his eyes. “It’s a ranch.”
“Is there a difference?” Corey asked.
“No,” I said. “Not even in the slightest. And I thought you said you didn’t want that!”
“I didn’t at first,” Paul said. “But Vince was able to change my mind.”
“How did you do that?” Nana asked him.
Vince grinned. It was sli
ghtly evil. “I promised him we’d do that one thing we always wanted to do.”
“Ew,” said most everyone at the table.
“Jesus Christ,” Paul muttered. “He’s talking about dressing up in costume for when the next Star Wars movie comes out.”
“That’s why you caved on the horse farm?” I demanded. “Why are you so damn easy? Paul, you can’t wear white and ride a horse.”
“Oh boy,” Paul said. “Sandy, I have something to tell you. I probably should have told you this a long time ago.”
“What is it?” I asked, suddenly nervous. “Are you dying? That’s it, isn’t it? That’s why you have a weird-shaped head. You consumed your brothers in the womb and now they’re tumors in your brain.”
“Weird-shaped head!” Paul snapped. “I don’t have a weird-shaped head!”
“Sure felt like it when it was coming out of me,” Matty said. “Sherry, would you like to try some green bean casserole? I made it. With green beans. And love.”
“I’m allergic to green beans,” Sherry said apologetically.
“Really?” Matty asked.
“No,” Sherry said. “But no one else wants to eat it, so I think it must be for a reason.”
“Do I make bad green bean casserole?” she wondered aloud. “That just doesn’t seem possible.”
“I’m not wearing white at the wedding,” Paul said.
“Why not?” I asked. “It’s beautiful and pristine and goes with everything—”
“Because I’m not a virgin.”
“I didn’t do it,” Vince said earnestly.
“I know you’re not a virgin,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Tommy De Milo absolutely destroyed your virginity when you were sixteen—”
Larry, Matty, and Nana frowned at him.
“—eighteen,” I corrected. “Eighteen and perfectly legal and everyone was sober.”
“Who is Tommy De Milo?” Vince asked with scowl.
“No one you have to worry about,” Paul said. “And thanks for that, Sandy. Because that’s exactly what my parents need to hear.”
“I bet I’m bigger than he is,” Vince said.
“Can we not talk about size at the dinner table?” Paul hissed.
“I meant my arms.”
“Oh. Right. Uh. That’s what I meant too. Your arms. Nothing else.” He looked shifty-eyed. He totally wasn’t talking about Vince’s arms. Which I did have a mild curiosity about, especially since I’d blown Vince in my dream.
“Fine,” I muttered. “No white, and we’ll have the small wedding at a horse farm. Crush all my dreams, why don’t you.”
“Oh, no worries, boy,” Charlie said. “You can have the big white extravagant wedding of your dreams when Darren here makes an honest man out of you.”
Darren and I slunk lower in our seats.
“Knowing Darren,” Sherry said, “he’ll want everyone to dress up like Thundercats. He got pretend married when he was seven and all his Thundercat toys were in attendance to wish the happy couple a prosperous life together.”
“Who was he marrying?” Nana asked.
It was clear by the look on his face that Darren wished he was anywhere but where he was.
“Leonardo,” Sherry said.
“Da Vinci?” Corey asked.
“Da Ninja Turtle,” Sherry said.
“That’s adorable,” Paul said, grinning maliciously. “I am so down with cosplay weddings.”
“Oh my god,” I said. “We are not having anyone dress up like Thundercats at our wedding. Are you out of your mind? First and foremost, it’s supposed to be an elegant and sophisticated ceremony, for fuck’s sake. Secondly, everyone will be dressed appropriately for such an event, which does not include cosplay.”
“What about the drag queens?” Paul asked. He looked far too happy for some reason. “Surely, that wouldn’t apply to drag queens.”
I frowned at him. “Drag queens can be classy too, Paul. You know that. Just because we’re gaudy by nature doesn’t mean we don’t know how to tone it down. If my sisters want to come in drag, they may, just as long as they don’t try to upstage me. You don’t want to know what kind of unholy hell I will rain down upon them if they try and upstage me.”
“And where would this wedding occur?” Sherry asked.
“Definitely not at a church,” I said with a laugh. “I mean, can you imagine? We’re not religious at all, and I know Dare won’t mind.” I took another sip of wine. “Not a destination wedding, though. That’s too gimmicky. Maybe in the mountains? I don’t know. We’ll figure it out. We have time.”
“Right,” Paul said. “The wedding you’re going to have with Darren.”
“Right,” I said absently. “The wedding I’m going to have with D—”
Wait. What.
I looked back up. Everyone, and I mean everyone, was staring at me with slightly surprised looks on their faces. Well, aside from Paul. Paul looked extraordinarily smug.
And Darren. Darren was gaping at me, hands gripping the edges of the table like he’d just heard something so shocking, he hadn’t quite been able to comprehend it.
Because I’d just been arguing about where the wedding would take place.
Our wedding.
The one I would have with Darren. And me. Together. Again.
“Oh sweat balls,” I managed to say.
“Well,” Matty said. “I know what I’m making for the weddings. Green bean casserole, for the win!”
IN AN effort to avoid Darren as much as possible, I volunteered for dishwashing duties. It seemed like an appropriate plan and would give me time to figure out how to fake my own death in order to not have to deal with Darren directly, seeing as how I’d spent a good part of Thanksgiving dinner describing our perfect wedding ceremony.
Darren, for his part, seemed shell-shocked and didn’t even try to follow me from the table. It probably didn’t help that I’d gone slightly shrill and once again looked like I’d fallen into an exceptionally large pile of bathroom crack.
I expected Corey or Paul to be the one to follow me in. To my surprise, however, it turned out to be Sherry.
“I offered,” she said with a shrug as I stared at her.
“You’re a guest,” I said, rather scandalized. Even if I was in the throes of an epic meltdown, I was still a gay man; therefore, my sense of propriety took center stage over my hysterics. Guests were never allowed to do the dishes. It was almost considered insulting to have them even try.
And even more than that, she was Darren’s mother and I’d just forced an engagement on her son when this whole thing was a big fat lie. Part of me wondered hysterically if she was coming in to negotiate his dowry. I didn’t know if I had any goats to exchange for Darren’s hand in marriage.
Goddamned bathroom crack.
I didn’t know what to say to her because I obviously hadn’t made the best first impression. I thought maybe it was better if I didn’t say anything at all. I told myself that silence was my friend and that I couldn’t make things worse if I didn’t speak.
But it was like she knew what I was doing because she didn’t say anything either. She just stood by my side, humming quietly to herself as I handed her the dishes, some to put in the dishwasher, others to dry by hand. And if she knew, that meant that she was aware that it was only a matter of time before I cracked.
She continued to hum. I think it was “Oops!… I Did It Again.”
She fought dirty.
Everyone knew that song was my big gay weakness.
I handed her a fork.
She smiled at me.
Sweat trickled down my neck into the collar of my shirt.
She put the fork in the dishwasher.
I scrubbed a plate until it was spotless.
I handed her the plate.
She smiled wider.
“I’m not playing with his heart,” I blurted out. “And I’m not getting lost in the game, oh baby, baby.”
She stared at me.
�
�I feel better,” I said.
“Because you’re not that innocent?” she asked.
“Can I be honest?”
“Sure.”
“I’m pretty sure this was the gayest moment of my life.”
“Wow,” she said. “Coming from a drag queen, that’s impressive.”
“Well, we did just use Britney lyrics to have the beginning of a conversation.”
“You should have seen when she first came out,” Sherry said. “Darren listened to that album over and over again. I thought he had a crush on her. I should have known better.”
“You have to tell me everything,” I demanded. “Every embarrassing thing you can about him.”
“That could take days.”
“I have all the time in the world,” I said.
“Do you?” she asked. “For Darren.”
“Uhh,” I said.
She snorted as she took a plate from my hand. “You two are idiots.”
“That’s something I’ve heard before.”
“Often?”
“More than I would have thought,” I admitted.
She watched me for a moment, before glancing out toward the living room. We heard a loud burst of laughter, followed by Darren and Vince trying to speak over each other about something, and I tried not to focus on how nice it sounded, having him here. How perfectly he fit with the rest of us.
She looked back at me. “Can I tell you a secret?”
“Sure,” I said. “As long as it embarrasses Darren, I’m down.”
“When he was little, I used to worry about him,” she said, looking down at the sink. “He never really seemed to need anyone, least of all me. And it was just the two of us, you know. I learned very quickly that Andrew Taylor wasn’t going to be a part of our lives, at least not physically. Financially, sure. It was hush money. I wasn’t fooled by it at all. But I was a single mother raising a son, so I had no qualms in taking it.”
She sighed and gave me a sardonic smile. “Darren never really asked questions about him. Not even when he was younger. It was always understood that he had a father, that his father was alive, but that his father wasn’t there. I didn’t talk shit about him to Darren. I didn’t force my own opinion of Andrew on him. I always told myself that if he asked me, I would answer any question he had honestly. But he never really did. It was like there was an understanding there, like he knew Andrew was never going to be a real part of his life, at least nothing more than a distant figure who fed us cash to keep us quiet.”
