by Katy Kaylee
I wondered what they thought about me; where I’d come from and what I did during the day. Would they be surprised at my middle-class upbringing, complete with morals that dictated you couldn’t kiss a boy until the third date? Actually, did I even believe that in myself? While I refused to take part in the physical intimacy the program allowed, I could feel myself forming preferences about what excited me and what was frightening. I wondered at Macon. He’d left me feeling pretty cold. I’d had to ask him specifically for what I’d wanted and even then, he would somehow short change me by falling asleep or claiming a muscle cramp. The people I watched in Nathan’s program seemed unrestrained, joyful and yet respectful of their partner’s wishes. I knew some of that was Nathan’s coaching and it made me feel safer in his presence when we were alone.
One night as the group was finishing up and putting on their coats to leave, Nathan got a phone call on his cell. He took the phone to his bedroom for the conversation and I finished up telling people goodnight. I heard him say the name Macon a few times, which jarred me and conjured up the image of my former lover. I felt confused by a sudden rush of missing him. I couldn’t do that; not with Nathan now in my life. It wasn’t fair. When he finished his call he came out of the bedroom and I saw by the look on his face that he wasn’t happy.
“Anything wrong?”
“It’s my son. I’m looking forward to the day that I don’t have to rescue him every few weeks. The boy won’t keep a job, sleeps wherever he drops for the night and is essentially undependable and immature.”
“Wow. That’s kind of harsh, don’t you think? Maybe you’re just tired and would have rather gone to bed than deal with that call?”
“Wish I could, but he needs me to come and pick him up.”
“Really? At this hour?”
“I know. It’s a pain, but he suckers me every time. One of these days I’m going to say no,” he proclaimed, “but I’m just not to that point quite yet.”
“Should I go home? I can call an Uber.” I wasn’t looking forward to coming in between the two of them. I had a feeling the conversation was going to be like a stick of dynamite.
“No, just ride along. I want you here tonight, with me. He has his own room.”
“Are you sure? Because…”
“No! Get your coat. We’ll pick him up and head straight home. He can fend for himself. You and I will go to bed.” It was his forceful voice I’d come to recognize so I knew there was no use in arguing. I just resigned myself to it and plucked my coat off the hook by the door and slid into the sleeves, tying the belt around my waist. Nathan locked the door behind us and opened the passenger door for me. It had begun to snow; big puffy flakes. We wouldn’t have known if we’d stayed inside. The burrow isolated us from the entire world.
I reached to turn on the radio and Nathan didn’t object. I didn’t want to ask questions that would only make him more angry and he didn’t want to answer them. Music seemed to be the best option. I knew he liked Classical, so I searched until I found some and that’s when I noticed the streaming services on the face of the music console. I’d never used anything that fancy and didn’t want to play around with it in the dark and when Nathan was in that mood, so I let it go.
Nathan was a skilled driver, his hand loose on the wheel so when we slid on the freezing street, he allowed the car to recover and didn’t fight it. I felt comfortable enough that I could snuggle back into the seat and just mellow out to the music. That was a stretch for me; I preferred to drive and not ride passenger. It was a trust issue, but somehow with Nathan, it didn’t bother me.
He seemed to know where he was going and I noticed that the neighborhoods we were crusing through grew rougher and rougher. “Want to talk?” I invited.
“Not now. I’ll get Macon home and then we can talk in bed, if that’s what you want to do.”
I knew he was hinting at something more intimate, but I wasn’t in the mood. He would be emotional, maybe even angry with his son and that could make his temper short. Anyway, I’d feel weird making love knowing his son was in the next room. I let it go for the time being, shrinking further into my seat.
Nathan swung the car into a fast food restaurant and drove around to the back where the dumpsters were lined up. A figure carrying a backpack materialized from between them, his head down as the heavy snow practically blinded me. The car was a two-door, so I turned to face Nathan, shoved the door open and pulled the seat toward me so Macon could get into the back. There were no words between the men. I pulled the door shut and the overhead light went off, drowning us in darkness except for the neon green glow from the dashboard. I settled back into my seat, glad for the heavy scarf I’d worn. I pulled it high over my ears, shutting out the world. I even dozed off for a little until the car’s braking and lack of movement startled me awake.
I touched the door lock and then swung it wide open so I could get out. I thought I’d go ahead and let the men have their words. But Macon pushed the seat forward and followed me immediately out of the car while Nathan was shutting down the motor and getting out on his side. Macon’s eyes searched for my face in the folds of the heavy scarf and I almost lost my footing and fell when I saw him. It was my Macon. He was equally alarmed as he recognized me. His mouth opened as if to speak, but quickly shook my head and he remained silent. I guess we both recognized in that moment that we needed to remain strangers as far as his father was concerned.
I stood back and let him pass me to get into the house. I closed my door slowly and then played a little in the snow covering the drive, drawing a heart with the toe of my shoe. I heard Nathan’s voice as he opened the door for Macon and then he was at my side, wrapping one arm over my shoulder. “I’m sorry about all this,” he began.
I shook my head. “Don’t apologize. This is between you and your son.”
He seemed to accept that. “He’ll only be here a couple of days and then things will go back to normal. We’ll have to just be a little more modest in our lovemaking,” he summarized. I didn’t say a word. There would be time for that later. I was glad we’d just had a class; the next wouldn’t be for another two weeks.
My head was spinning so fast, I slid and Nathan caught me from falling.
It was Macon! My Macon!
All this time I’d pictured someone who looked like Nathan and was younger. What to do? As much as I knew Nathan wanted me in his life, Macon was his blood. If Nathan learned that the woman in his bed had shared herself with his son, he would pull back and I’d be out on my fanny. I hoped Macon would stay quiet. I suspected as long as he was living on his father’s good graces, and once he saw it was between us, he’d keep quiet, letting me run interference for him.
I got into the house and slung my coat and scarf on the hook, heading straight for Nathan’s bedroom. A part of me wanted to hear what would be said, and a part of me wanted to leave and never look back. I felt a very strange sense of betrayal, almost jealousy. Both men had been my lovers and yet they would be loyal to one another first. Where did I fall in that? Every sense screamed for me to leave, but I knew if I even tried, it would require explanations and that would rip off the scab and perhaps forever distance these two men I loved. I chose to let it go and take care of itself.
Their voices were low, non-confrontational and the sort of sounds people made as they were saying goodnight and locking up, deciding where they’d sleep and what they had planned for the morning. They were, essentially, normal. I normally slept naked so I didn’t have a nightie with me. I opened Nathan’s closet and pulled a MSU t-shirt of its hanger and slid it over my head. I was between the covers when Nathan came in and I heard an unusual sound; the click of him locking the bedroom door.
He went through his bedtime ritual silently and then the light went off and I felt his weight on the mattress next to me. I had to say something. After all, he didn’t share the weight of discovery Macon and I both carried at that moment. “Everything okay?” I asked finally after he’d settled into t
he pillow.
“Sorry about that. Macon always gets me down.”
Damn! There was a mountain of conversation that I could have launched at that point. I could tell him that Macon was confused, childishly romantic until you’d given in and then petulant and lazy once you’d become his servant. He probably knew that. I could say that Macon took advantage of kind-hearted people who were used to picking up stray kittens and taking them home. He probably also knew that. I could even tell him that Macon was a lousy lover and could stand a year’s session in Nathan’s classes. That part, I knew Nathan didn’t know. That was also the part I wasn’t anxious to share.
I had to say something. “Why is that?”
“His mother and I had huge dreams for him. I guess every parent does. And every parent thinks their kid is special, that they’ll beat the odds for all the bad things. Wait until you’re a mother—you’ll see.”
I didn’t respond. If I pretended to not know Macon now, eventually it would come out and then it will be deception on my part. As it was, I had until morning to fully recognize him, or concoct some reason I didn’t. Most of all decision depended on Macon himself.
Nathan’s hand slid into the crotch of my panties, but it felt wrong and I gently pushed his hand away and turned over so my back was to him. I knew it didn’t make him happy, but maybe he’d make Macon go away sooner.
I slid out of the bed earlier than usual and dressed. Nathan had tossed most of the night and slept poorly, so I was careful not to wake him up as I left the room. I shut the door quietly behind myself and looked up. To my surprised, although it really shouldn’t have been, Macon was sitting on the sofa. He was deeply embroiled in a video game and didn’t hear me. Around him were the remnants of an all-night game fest. Crumpled bags of snacks, several beer cans and a pillow behind his back suggested he’d sat there all night, eating and playing. Just like a 14-year-old. I walked up to the sofa and cleared my throat. He jumped when he saw me. “How long have you been standing there?
“Long enough to see nothing has changed.”
“That’s mutual. You’re still as bitchy as always.”
“I wonder why. Doesn’t matter. You going to tell him, or am I?”
Macon pretended not to hear me until he was ready to answer. “That depends.”
“On…?”
“I take it you’re fucking him?”
“The same might be said for you, you know.”
He looked up sharply. “Like I said. Bitchy as always.”
“He’ll be up soon and if we don’t decide this, I’m going to tell him here and now.”
“No!” His response was immediate.
“Give me one reason why not.”
“Do I have to? How do two men act when they discover they’re sleeping with the same woman?”
“That’s past tense.”
“You’re hedging.”
“They fight.”
“Exactly. That means I’ll be out on my ass. Nowhere to go.”
“Huh… imagine that.”
“You want him to know?”
I didn’t have to think as long. “No,” I shook my head, “not really. It’s enough to have a failure of a son to put up with. I’ll stick around to see if I can soften the blow.”
“So, in other words, we don’t want him to know but it’s because we’re selfish, not kind.” I had to admit. Macon got right to the point.
“Look at however you want, but if you tell him without letting me know, you’ll regret it.”
He pulled his head back and craned his neck to look at me. “Woah, now she’s threatening. Okay, Miss Goodie Two Shoes. Have it your way. Just stay out of my way.”
“Ditto.”
That’s how we settled it and when Nathan came out sleepily a little later, I’d made coffee and some sweet quick bread from supplies I found in the cupboard. From the corner of my eye, I saw him look at Macon and shake his head. I turned to shut off the oven and felt his presence behind me. His breath was in my ear as he kissed my cheek from behind. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, yourself.” I brushed my lips on his cheek. “You hungry?”
“I could eat.”
“Me, too!” piped up Macon without invitation.
“Coffee and some breakfast bread here on the counter. I’m going in to shower and then Nathan, would you mind driving me home?”
“Might not let you go after I try that sweet bread.”
“I can come back another time.”
I scooted from the room before a witty exchange picked up and someone would say something awkward. It seemed better to put distance between Macon and myself. It was safer. When I stepped out of the shower, Nathan was waiting for me.
“You don’t have to leave, you know.”
“I’d like to, for now. I have work and there are things I need to catch up on. That will give you and your son a chance to make plans, or whatever.”
“The plan is for him to leave and the sooner the better,” he pointed out.
“I know. I can come by tomorrow afternoon. I’ll cook dinner for the both of you. By then, maybe you’ll have more figured out.”
“I love you.” His voice was quiet and reverent.
“You should; I’m loveable,” I joked and picked up my little travel bag; a sign that I was ready to go. “Meet you outside.”
I didn’t need to look at him to feel his surprise. I couldn’t even get into the car since it was locked. It was still snowing and my feet were instantly soaked. He emerged from the burrow and opened my door. I snuggled in to wait for the car’s heater to warm up. I desperately did not want to talk about Macon.
“I can’t believe it’s snowing this early in the year,” I tried as he turned the key and the engine came alive.
“It’s Wisconsin. You have to expect these things.” He didn’t put the car into gear, but turned toward me. “Okay, what aren’t you saying? Are you angry because Macon is here, or what?”
“Me? Not mad. Why would I be mad?”
“C’mon, Christina. We’re talking about the weather? What’s going on then?”
“Not a thing. It was probably just putting a face to your having talked about Macon. Kind of strange. He looks about my age.”
“Oh, the age difference thing, is it?”
I just shrugged. Inside, I felt relief for having steered him wide of where he was headed, which was straight into forcing me into an admission of knowing Macon. “It’s not a thing, I’m just saying it sort of struck me when I look at him. I guess I envision that you must have looked like him when you were that age.”
“Are you intentionally trying to start an argument?”
“No, sorry, maybe I just didn’t sleep well. I’ll take a nap this afternoon and be back to my normal self.”
“You’re not coming over this afternoon, then?”
I wrinkled my nose. “Don’t think that’s a great idea. I’ll let the two of you have some time to say what you need to say. I’ll come tomorrow, though.”
“Okay, if that’s the way you want it.” He started the car finally and drove me home. I gave him a quick peck on the cheek and opened my own door. I went inside and could hear his car running for several minutes outside. I knew he was deciding whether to come inside and finish our discussion. Thank god he decided against it.
I took an Uber from work to Nathan’s burrow. He’d shown me where he hid the spare key and when no one answered after my third knock, I waved the Uber drive off and used the key to let myself in. I was wrong; there was someone home—Macon. He was passed out on the sofa. Once again the scene was typical with empty bags of snack foods and the tv was frozen with a game on. I flipped off the television, walked around the sofa and went into the kitchen. I thought I’d make Nathan a nice dinner as a peace offering for keeping my distance.
When Nathan came in, a pot roast was happily simmering in the oven, red potatoes and carrots waited on the stove and I was frosting a chocolate cake. I watched him from the corner of m
y eye as he kicked Macon’s feet off the sofa. “Wake up, Macon,” he growled. “Clean up.”
I was careful not to look in Macon’s direction. Nathan came up and gave me a kiss. “Going to shower. That all smells delicious!” he said comfortably.
“Don’t tell me she can cook,” Macon muttered. “Well, that’s a second reason to keep her, I guess.”
Nathan’s face grew dark. “Apologize, Macon.”
“Why should I? This is more my home than hers.” He got to his feet, grabbed all his trash in an armload and deposited it on the counter where I was frosting the cake. I grabbed the pedestal and pulled the cake away or it would have been showered with potato chip crumbs and the bottom of a Doritos bag.
“Hey!” I protested. “Put that in the trash, will you?” Nathan had already left to shower and I was left to my own resources. Macon’s face was taunting me.
“Oh, dear, did I make you mad?” he mocked me. “Gee, maybe you won’t put out for Daddy tonight.”
“I hate you,” I murmured under my breath.
“I already beat you there,” Macon sneered.
“You think I care? You’re garbage. Who else has to run home to daddy at your age?”
“Oh-ho… you’ll pay for that remark, I promise you.”
“I’m scared. Run along and play, Macon. It’s all you do, anyway.”
“Macon is done playing for the day,” came Nathan’s voice from behind Macon. I hoped he’d just walked in at that point. “Macon, the shower is open. Use it.”
Macon skulked into the bathroom, shooting me a pretend gag reflex behind his father’s back. I ignored it.
“Dinner is ready. Shall I serve it or do you want to wait for Macon?” I asked with a considerate tone.
