by Amy Lane
“What?” Chase asked. He’d almost forgotten what he’d just said.
“How do you know it wasn’t you? You were a needy little bastard. She was plenty happy until you came along, and suddenly all she could do was cry. Maybe it was you.”
Victor crossed his arms in front of his chest, and Chase remembered that moment when he had screamed at the woman in the restaurant and lost that job. He had felt disconnected from his body. His actual self had been floating above, watching this really hot guy screech in this woman’s face that she better keep her fucking foul mouth shut, and he couldn’t figure out how to make that hot guy calm the fuck down.
He could actually feel himself starting to detach from his body, floating faintly up, as he contemplated grabbing his father by the front of his rumpled, stained oxford shirt and throwing him down the stairs.
“Maybe it was,” he said, clutching the chair so hard his knuckles were white. “Maybe it was, but I was fucking six, and you were the grown-up who was supposed to come home and make it all right.”
“Chase?” Mercy said quietly. “Chase? What are you talking about?”
Chase shook his head and tried to clear his vision. Tommy’s bright black eyes kept threatening to intrude, luring Chase into that pocket of time when they’d held each other so close they’d had no choice but to come.
“Nothing,” he mumbled. “Victor, could you leave it alone? Mercy worked her ass off, okay? I wasn’t even here for three days, and I’ve got to go away right after Christmas, could you please, at least for this one time, not make the rest of the world suffer because you’re here?”
Victor sneered—but he sat down. Stiffly, Chase began to dish up food, because that was apparently his job. They didn’t say grace—Mercy’s family wasn’t that religious, and Chase would barely admit there might be a God—but after a few minutes, they began to eat.
Chase felt some of the tension slip out of the air with the food. Mercy had soaked the turkey in salt water and stuffed garlic under the skin, so it was really good, and the mashed potatoes and gravy were food for the soul.
“It’s great, Merce,” he said, touching her shoulder, and she beamed at him.
“Worth coming home to?” she asked, grinning, like she knew the answer.
God help me, I’d rather be eating Chinese takeout with Tommy. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.
“Of course it is!”
“She can cook,” Victor conceded, and Chase and Mercy met eyes.
“Tell her that,” Chase said evenly. “She’s the reason you’re here.”
Victor’s rheumy eyes made contact with Mercy’s brown ones and then skittered away. “Good food,” he said gruffly. “Thanks.”
They talked a little then—or at least Mercy told Chase about her day, managing a retail clothing store in the middle of the Christmas season.
“I missed you, baby,” she said with a sigh of relief, “but I’ve got to tell you, I wasn’t here much for those three days. I was so busy earning my keep so I could get today off, I didn’t know which way was up. But how about you? How was that bridge thing? You don’t look that busted up. I was worried you’d get hurt, you know?”
Chase shrugged. “I’m new, I’m young, I’m pretty—they put me on the back of the truck. Put the cones down, pick them up. No big deal.”
Chase had actually worked on a road crew for a couple of weeks. It was terrifying, adrenaline-pumping, and dirty work. The cars seemed to hurtle by like breakneck Leviathans, and the constant whooshing of something that big, that could do that much damage, had been nerve-shearing. The money had been good, but Chase had doubted he had the spleen for it every goddamned day he’d gone in. He’d been seriously relieved when the government money had dried up for that particular job and he’d had to go find some drywalling, which he was a pretty fair hand at, even if it didn’t pay as well. It almost seemed disloyal to the people who actually did work jobs like that to even blow it off now, but he’d left Tommy at his dying mother’s bedside to lie to Mercy who had cooked for his father. Chase was officially a scumbag. A little bit of understatement was no big deal.
“You work with anyone fun?” Mercy asked. She was constantly telling him about her coworkers—they’d even had a few of them to dinner. Kerry and Pam and Emily—Chase felt like he knew these people, just like Mercy knew Donnie and Kevin. Suddenly Chase felt like he could breathe again, like he could let a little bit of the dark, secret joy that had been taking over his brain leak into the life he was living right in that moment.
“Dex and Tommy were on my crew,” he said, keeping his voice absolutely casual. “Dex is sort of the leader—he’s a good guy. Funny when you don’t expect it, you know?”
“What about Tommy?”
He’s beautiful. He has a wicked, wicked smile, and his hands on my skin feel amazing….
“He wants to be a veterinarian, you know? They’re actually from around here—I think Tommy was going to try to go back to school this next semester. I might see them around.”
Mercy’s smile was sincere and relieved. “Good! I know you’ve been missing Donnie since you’re in entirely different classes.”
“You still hanging out with that little faggot?”
It was like his life was a film, and in one frame Chase and Mercy were smiling and enjoying themselves, and then someone took a big chunk of film out and spliced that to the place where Chase had Dad’s shirt bunched up in his fist and his dad was up against the wall. Chase didn’t remember the parts in between.
One fist was drawn back, and Chase was snarling, “You take that back!” in his father’s face while Victor covered his eyes and whimpered and Mercy pulled on his shoulder with all of her 110 pounds to try to get him to calm the fuck down.
Chase came to himself then, and blinked, and looked at Mercy, who was in tears, and wished he could take the entire moment back.
He did his best—such a sorry, pathetic thing, his best—to make it better.
“Here’s the deal,” he said, his chest heaving. “I’m going to go outside and cool down, and you’re going to sit down and finish your food, okay? And in the meantime, you’re going to remember that you’re kind to Mercy. Always. And that if it weren’t for Donnie and his mother, I’d be dead, or I’d wish I was dead, and I’d never have gone to school and I never would have met Mercy, and I wouldn’t have fuckin’ eaten half the time I was growing up because you weren’t ponying the fuck up, okay?”
“Yeah,” Victor said, looking honestly scared. “Okay. I get it. Your house, your rules. You win, okay? I won’t use that fuckin’ word no more, and I’ll be good. I swear. I like the turkey, I swear.” He looked beseechingly at Mercy, who was all big eyes and trembling chin, and Chase nodded shortly. He pulled his hand from Victor’s rumpled button-down and backed away, aware that Victor’s face had lined, and his longish hair had grayed, and his teeth had yellowed since Chase had last looked at him long enough to really see him at all.
He looked at Mercy and kissed her temple, even though her whole body was stiff with adrenaline and anger. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “This was me, not you, okay? I’m gonna go walk this off, and I’ll try to be a fuckin’ human being by dessert. I don’t want to let you down no more. All right?”
She nodded and gave him a tremulous smile, and he took off down the hallway and to the door.
He didn’t remember his coat, which was too bad, because it was fucking cold and foggy outside, so he set up a brisk march around the apartment complex, hoping by the time he was back his head would be clear, and Mercy and his father would still be okay inside.
He got halfway around when he pulled his phone out of his pocket and texted Tommy’s cell.
Hey, Tango. How’s is?
Sux. You?
Almost put my fist through the old man’s head.
Could be better.
Sounds violent. What set you off?
Talked shit about mom.
Ouch.
I’m stupid.
It was a thousand years ago.
I should just let it go.
Some shit hurts forever.
Chase?
Sorry. Lost time. You holding up okay?
Better’n mom.
How long’s she got?
A week, maybe. I’m hoping she goes to sleep.
And just doesn’t wake up.
Worked for my mom.
My mom doesn’t want to go.
Your mom’s got a reason to stay.
So did yours.
Not much. It hurt leaving you.
Hurt to watch you go.
Dex taking my spot?
Tommy?
Tommy?
I’m weak. I’m sorry.
Chase?
Chase?
CHASE?
I’ll see you the night of the 26th.
I’m sorry, Chase. I couldn’t stop crying.
Please don’t hate me. Please. God, I’m sorry, but
You were going off to be with Mercy and….
I don’t hate you. Could never hate you.
Oh God. Chase. Chase I’m so sorry.
Don’t be. Merry Christmas Tommy.
Merry Christmas Chase.
MERCY found him a little later, sitting on the bottom of the stairs.
“Chase? Baby, you’ve been out here a while.”
He wiped his eyes hurriedly with the back of his hands. “It’s… it’s been sort of a week, you know?” His voice rang hollow, or maybe it was just the echo of the stairwell.
“Yeah,” she said, coming to sit beside him. He stopped her before she could put her bottom on the concrete stair—she was wearing something new and velveteen and sparkly, and she looked lovely.
“Here. I’ll go in. I’ll apologize. It’s my fault.”
She shook her head and took his hand. “He was an asshole.” He went to move up the stairs but she kept hold of his hand.
“What?”
TOMMY, moving in the dark with Dex, looking sad, sobbing on Dex’s shirt as he came….
“WHY didn’t you tell me?” she asked quietly. “I don’t even know how she died, but why didn’t you tell me you two blamed each other for it?”
Chase looked away, wishing he was imagining Tommy with Dex again, because nothing, nothing, could top the crystal clarity of those three hours in the bathroom when he was a kid.
“It didn’t feel right to pull that bullshit back up,” he said.
“Yeah, but… that’s horrible, Chase. I never would have brought him here, if I knew how bad that shit was.”
“It didn’t feel right to talk about it,” he said again, and walked back up the stairs and into the apartment, realizing he couldn’t have answered her question even if he could have found any other words.
Victor left eventually, grateful for the new coat Chase had bought him, and they were left alone in the apartment. Chase turned on the TV, saw that Die Hard was on, and decided to watch that.
Mercy stood up and kissed him suggestively. “You want to maybe come in after a few minutes?” she said, hope in every line in her body.
He looked at her, feeling like his insides had been ripped out and the empty husk scrubbed clean. “Sure,” he mumbled, knowing his eyes were half closing anyway.
She sighed and kissed his temple and left him, falling asleep in front of an old movie, half dreaming of moments in the dark he couldn’t bring himself to regret. Sometime in the night she came out and took off his shoes and covered him with an old blanket, but he didn’t remember when.
THE next day dawned brighter, and he gave her the carefully chosen presents, which she adored. Chase got a new shirt, very trendy—it was beautiful and he loved it—and hip-dropping jeans that she got him, “since you don’t have any more hair down there, you might as well show the world!”
Holding a straight face for that was difficult, but he appreciated the gesture.
They opened gifts, fixed breakfast, and then, inevitably, made love. He closed his eyes and thought of the nameless, faceless person he would be fucking the next day, because thinking about Tommy just hurt too goddamned much.
They went to Donnie’s parents’ for dinner, and Mercy and Donnie’s mother (She kept asking them to call her Colleen, but Chase just couldn’t. He started calling her Mrs. Donnie’s Mom just to make people laugh.) went into the kitchen with Donnie’s sister Michelle to chatter like girls, and Chase, Donnie, Donnie’s boyfriend Alejandro, and Kevin all ended up in the garage playing Ping-Pong.
Donnie and Alejandro teamed up, which was good, because ’Yandro was a terrible Ping-Pong player, and so was Kevin. The match resulted in Donnie and Chase facing off like they used to do during baseball practice when Chase pitched and Donnie was up at bat. The action was fierce, and for that moment, Chase lost himself in the purely physical expression of sports, crowing in triumph and pumping his fists in the air when he made the final point to Donnie’s anguished “Oh crap!”
There was a lot of laughter then, and Chase decided to go out onto the porch to get another beer. He looked up behind him and Donnie was standing there with his hand out.
“One for ’Yandro?” Chase asked, and Donnie took his own and shrugged a no.
“’Yandro prefers wine. Preferably the pricey wine he brought in an effort to impress my parents.”
“What a suck-up!” Chase teased, and Donnie laughed.
“He was so nervous. He really wants my folks to like him, you know?”
Chase thought about Donnie’s mom, who had a stocking on the mantelpiece for him, and one for Kevin, and one for ’Yandro, and one for ’Chelle’s best friend Alix.
“Your mom’s the best, you know that, Donnie? I mean… I know you think she’s just your mom, but….” Chase shuddered and tried not to think about all of the shit he’d successfully avoided thinking about all day. “Being able to come here for dinner tonight about saved my fuckin’ life, man. Just know that, okay?”
Donnie must have heard something—a tremble in his voice, when he’d worked so hard to keep one out, something. He put his hand on Chase’s shoulder as they stood there and looked out into the foggy Sacramento dark and drank cold beer.
“Is there something wrong?” he asked, like he was afraid of the answer.
I fell in love with a guy I met on a gay-for-pay porn set, and he cheated on me when we weren’t really a couple, because I had to leave him for my girlfriend.
“Mercy had my dad over last night. It… it didn’t go real fuckin’ well.”
Donnie looked at him. “You never talk about it.”
Chase took a hard pull on his beer. “Don’t want to now.”
“God, Chase, please tell me you talk about it to Mercy.” Donnie sounded so concerned, and Chase clapped him on the shoulder.
“Donnie, can’t we just agree that Dad is a lowlife? My childhood sucked? My mom’s death was… not fun? Do we have to put all these words on it? I just… I just….” Chase closed his eyes tight, remembered how badly Tommy had needed him for those three nights, how stricken he’d looked as Chase had gotten back in the cab for the airport. “God,” he said, with feeling. “I just have such a hard time getting by day to day.”
Donnie’s arm came around his shoulders, companionable, warm—like family. For the first time in their lives, Chase didn’t just stand up straight and return the gesture like a jock. For the first time, he sagged against Donnie’s body, and was relieved when Donnie took the hint and wrapped his arms around Chase’s shoulders in a way that was so completely and utterly relaxed that it made Chase want to cry.
“What’s wrong?” Donnie asked softly, and Chase shook his head. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk about it, all of it… it just…. God. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to fuck Donnie’s Christmas up the way Chase had fucked up Mercy’s. It wasn’t fair to any of them.
“You ever wonder how you can have the best of intentions,” Chase asked, leaning his head on Donnie’s chest like a child, “and still be a complete and total fuck-up?�
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Donnie’s hug tightened. “What’d you do?”
“Maybe someday I’ll tell you.” Chase took a deep breath and pulled in all the healing he could, then stood up and reclaimed his beer from the shelf by the fridge. “Maybe someday when it’s more funny than bad.”
Donnie looked at him there in the darkness. “Does Mercy know?”
Chase screwed his eyes shut tight. “Donnie….”
Donnie made a sound then, a faintly disapproving sound, and Chase cringed. “Chase, man, I love her. She’s great. She’s even good for you in some ways. She’s funny and kind and smart. But you know what she’s not?”
And Chase was too raw not to answer that one with the truth.
“Male,” he said softly, and the word washed some of the starch out of Donnie’s speech.
“Yeah, man. That’s a big one to get over, you know?”
Chase closed his eyes. “I’m learning,” he said. And he might have spilled it all then—Johnnies, Tommy, hope, sex, betrayal—but at that moment Alejandro and Kevin came out from the garage to see what was keeping the two of them. Alejandro, slightly built, beautiful, Venezuelan man-god that he was, walked right into Donnie’s space and bumped noses with him, and Donnie bent down a little, grinned that gorgeous, nothin’s gonna hurt me grin and kissed him. For a moment, Chase was afraid he wouldn’t be able to look away, because they were so beautiful and so perfect, and then he saw Donnie’s eyes close, and the entire world disappear—including Chase—and suddenly he couldn’t look at them at all.
Kevin didn’t have any such problems. “If you two assholes don’t stop sucking face and get back into the garage, my balls are gonna freeze off before dinner.”
