Bet on Us

by MariaLisa deMora

  “That last call was the school?” Jacob’s arms loosened as Trent sagged forwards, elbows to the countertop.

  He nodded, then rolled his neck side to side. “Yeah. They need a whole list of things. It just doesn’t end. Mr. Reedman promised to help expedite some of it, by virtue of his cousin being the superintendent where Jericho went to school last year. I’ll never get over how efficient the backdoor connections still are in a place like Knoxville.” He shook his head, tiredly threading his fingers through his hair. “The idea of doing this all over again in just six months is killer, Jakey. I never knew there was so much to it all.”

  “You’ll manage.” Jacob kissed up the back of Trent’s neck until his nose was buried in Trent’s hair. “You’re good at this kind of thing.” The vibrations from his words tickled, and Trent lurched away. “Babe.”

  “Memphis? Do we really want to think about moving back there, Jakey? I didn’t realize how careful we were in Knoxville and there until we were back home. I want to be able to touch you, to kiss you. To damn well hold your hand if I want to.” Trent knew he was being dramatic, but it was what they did. He stretched things until they didn’t resemble reality, taking it over the top until Jacob brought everything back into perspective. “We like the surrogacy clinic here, our friends are here, and now Jericho’s doctor and school are here. Should we uproot him, and ourselves, just to move across the country to a place where I can’t even hold my husband’s hand?”

  “Trent, babe.” Jacob’s hand curled across Trent’s chest again, fingertips grazing across a nipple as warm lips and hard teeth ran down his neck.

  “This isn’t a ‘babe’ situation, Jakey.” Trent arched his throat, silently asking for more, sighing as Jacob’s teeth sank into the tender tissue at the crook of Trent’s neck.

  “Au contraire, I think every situation is a ‘babe’ situation, if I get the tone just right.” The fingertips circled his nipple, then came together in a light pinch. “Babe.”

  “Mmhmm. Yeah, maybe that’s the right ‘babe,’ right there.” Trent shifted on the stool, his half-hard cock uncomfortable in his jeans. “Except I thought you were going to cook?”

  “I am.” Jacob pressed against Trent’s back, mouth working along his neck again. “I think the kitchen’s already getting hotter.”

  “Uh, honey?” Trent reached back, gripping Jacob’s hip to pull him even closer. “The kitchen’s over there.”

  “Yeah?”

  “What’s for supper?” Jericho’s voice wasn’t close, but the reminder they weren’t alone in the house was like a splash of cold water across Trent’s nerves.

  “To be continued,” Jacob murmured, as he pressed a final kiss to the side of Trent’s face.

  “Oh my Jesus.” Trent muttered as he shifted again, shivering in the sudden chill as Jacob moved away, taking his heat with him. “Uncle Jacob’s cooking, so you know what that means.”

  “Pizza or pasta.” Jericho was laughing softly, smiling as he walked into the room. He glanced at the kitchen table, and his eyes went wide. Then he turned back to the living room.

  “I’ve got your phone. I had to use it. Mine died.” Trent picked up what he thought was his, but the screen was lit up with another handful of texts from Jordan. “Here’s yours, Jericho. Looks like Jordan’s chatty tonight. I’m glad you’ve got a friend like him.”

  “Oh, we’re not—” Jericho took the phone from Trent’s fingers and didn’t look at it, just shoved it deep into his front pocket. “It’s not anything, really. Hey, want me to get you a charger cord, Uncle Trent?”

  “Nice deflection, kiddo.” Jacob chuckled as he walked around the counter and into the kitchen.

  Trent watched Jericho’s face turn white before a rosy hue flooded up his cheeks. “Totally deflecting.” That got Jericho’s gaze back on him, and he softened their teasing with a smile. “Jordie’s a really good kid.”

  “He’s not a kid.” Jacob offered this nugget from where he stood in front of the refrigerator, door open as he looked through the selection. “We need to go shopping.” He closed the refrigerator, then opened the pantry door, head shifting up and down as he scanned the shelves. “There’s nothing to make for supper.”

  “Of course he’s a kid. I remember when he and Nate graduated from high school.” Trent pushed off the stool and walked around to where Jacob was, bumping their shoulders together. “You wanna call for pizza or me?”

  “Jordan’s in his second year of college. He’s not a kid. He’s a man. Doesn’t matter if he and Nate graduated on the same day, there’s a solid six years’ difference between their ages.” Jacob backed away and leaned a hip against the counter near the sink, phone in hand. “I’ve got it. I told you I’d take care of supper.”

  “No, you said you’d cook.” Trent pressed a kiss against Jacob’s shoulder, looking up and batting his eyes in a way he knew Jacob found adorable. “Calling for pizza isn’t cooking.”

  “Yeah, this is Jacob Grimes, and I need to place an order for delivery.” Away from the phone, Jacob huffed a laugh, then told Trent, “It counts, babe.”

  Trent closed the pantry and turned to see Jericho had brought the phone back out and was staring down at it with a look of growing fear.

  “Everything okay, Jericho?”

  The boy’s head jerked up, and he stared at Trent. In the background, Jacob gave the pizza place his credit card information. The expression on Jericho’s face faded away, growing blank as he nodded. In a voice way too chirpy for what Trent had just seen, Jericho tried to assure him, “Yeah, Uncle Trent. Right as rain.”

  Not believing that for a second.

  Casually, he tried to reintroduce the topic Jericho was dodging earlier. “How are Jordan’s classes this semester? He’s taking two over the summer, right?” Trent studied Jericho’s face carefully. “He’ll be back home soon for a break before fall. Maybe we should go back for a visit while he’s home.”

  If possible, Jericho’s face turned whiter than before. His headshake was jerky, an uneven side-to-side movement.

  Trent decided to take pity on the boy, because if what he was seeing was true, Jericho was harboring a healthy crush on the handsome young man. Another thing to talk over with Jacob once they went to bed.

  “Pizza will be here in twenty minutes.” Announcement made, Jacob curled his fingers around Trent’s wrist, and he went with the tug, leaning against Jacob’s side without argument. “I’m going to take a shower and change.” Pressure against the side of Trent’s head was a kiss, and he sighed when Jacob bent close, mouth to Trent’s ear as he whispered, “I wouldn’t be averse to some company in the shower.” Another kiss, this to the curve of Trent’s ear. “Just sayin’.”

  “Jericho, forge your uncle’s signature if we’re not out of the shower by the time pizza gets here.”

  Jericho’s laughter chased Trent up the hallway, close on the heels of a Jacob already shedding clothes, shirt and socks flying in opposite directions.

  ***

  Jericho

  Shaking his head, Jericho walked directly to the living room couch where he’d left the remote for the TV, using the device to dramatically increase the volume. He’d quickly learned that when his uncles had that look on their faces and disappeared together, he really didn’t want to hear any of the noises that came from their bedroom.

  Perching on the edge of the couch cushions, he stared at the TV without seeing the comedic antics on the screen. The remote clattered against the table as he set it down, his hand trembling uncontrollably.

  The memory of Trent’s voice echoed through his head, a loop of pain and panic that grew in volume until it drowned out anything else around him.

  “I want to be able to touch you, to kiss you. To damn well hold your hand if I want to.”

  Jericho remembered walking with them through the mall in Knoxville, a town not unlike Memphis. Even after only a narrow introduction to the affection and love shared between the two men, he’d easily picked up on th
e changes when they were in public. Standing close, but not too close. Shoulders brushing, but no arms around waists. Backs of fingers in a slight, grazing caress, but none of the finger-twined handholding he knew was so much a part of who they were. No kissing, no touching, no expressions of love, no endearingly saccharine statements of devotion from either of them.

  It was wrong.

  The local grocery store a few days ago was a better representation of what he knew his uncles should be like in public, an only slightly dialed-back version of their private selves. Trent leaned over a vegetable display, and when he stood, Jake was there, his arm wrapping around Trent’s chest, pulling the bigger man firmly against him as they discussed the merits of organic versus hydroponic tomatoes. Trent turned his head to rest against Jake’s shoulder on the cereal aisle, asking for someone to help select something, crying out about how all the decisions were so tedious. Being enough of himself to relax Jake and Jericho, no one on the alert for possible witnesses, because it didn’t matter here.

  In only the couple of weeks he’d spent here in San Diego, Jericho had seen dozens upon dozens of real-life examples of the motto “love is love,” and he’d quickly grown accustomed to the openness of same-sex couples.

  If they moved back to Memphis, Trent and Jake would lose that.

  If they move us back there, I’ll never have that.

  Sure, Jake’s family was welcoming, but even in his most generous dreams, Jericho couldn’t imagine Memphis being much different from Knoxville, and he knew firsthand how anti-gay the greater populous there was. People were more like Frank than folks wanted to believe.

  And now Trent was seeing just what a mistake it would be. Where does that leave me? They weren’t talking about it because of him, and having to take on the burden of Jericho, but it surely played a factor in the eventual decision. Trent was already talking about moving schools again, and Jericho hadn’t even started here in California yet.

  A commercial blasted from the TV speakers, and he stared at the screen, watching as frantic faces shouted at the camera. Some legal proposal was up for vote, and this was one of a dozen commercials he’d seen for it so far. White signs, black letters, open mouths, screaming voices—but at least it was being talked about here. In Knoxville…in Tennessee, as far as he knew, there’d been no positive discussion about gays living as equals, only how the Christian sect could break federal law allowing it.

  Memories of Frank’s voice crept in around the edges of his mind. The hurtful, hateful words, the names, the disgusted tone. How it felt to be belittled, mocked and made to believe his existence was wrong.

  Jericho was still focused on the TV minutes later when a half-dressed Jake startled him by striding through the room, breaking his gaze. “Jericho, didn’t you hear the doorbell?” Jake opened the door, and there stood a pizza delivery guy, an annoyed expression on his face as Jake did what he always did, smiled and smoothed it over. Door closed, world shut outside again, Jake took the box into the kitchen. Jericho expected him to disappear back up the hallway and startled when the man settled onto the couch next to where Jericho sat.

  Wordlessly, Jake stretched out his arm in invitation and Jericho accepted, sinking sideways against him until Jake held him firmly. The strength and constant caring of this man shouldn’t still be a surprise, not when it was modeled every day. A few minutes later, Trent wandered out, the damp hair and bemused expression on his face telling Jericho at least his inattentiveness hadn’t cost his uncle too much of the alone time with Jake.

  Trent sank into the cushions on Jericho’s other side, lifted the cast onto his knee, and slipped his arm around Jericho, leaning in so Jericho was sandwiched between these two men he was coming to understand loved him. A family he’d needed for so long, given to him by tragedy. Silver linings.

  “I love you guys.”

  “We love you, too, sweet baby boy.” Trent shifted, and Jericho knew he was sharing a look with Jake over his head. “Wanna tell us what’s going on in that head of yours?”

  “I was just thinking.” Holding his peace was the better choice here, not delving into the maelstrom of thoughts and fears that had rocked him to his core.

  “Uh-huh. And we were showering together to conserve water.” Jericho snorted at Jake’s description, then laughed aloud when Trent’s hand moved and he heard a smacking sound. “Don’t hit me, babe.”

  “Don’t say things like that. We’re like parents now, and it’s damaging to children’s psyche to know their parents do it.” Trent hugged Jericho tight again. “I’m sorry for Jakey, Jericho. Don’t hold his lack of understanding against him.”

  “Pretty sure Jericho knows we do it, Trentie.” Jake’s gruff voice was strained with laughter. “Jericho, does it bother you to know your uncles are sexually active?”

  Jericho had squeezed his eyes shut when the two of them started, trying to keep from laughing out loud. Into the dark, he admitted, “Uh, kinda? It’s a little weird, to be honest.”

  “See?” Trent’s cry was loud and anguished, and it nearly broke Jericho’s control.

  “But does it squidge you out?” Jake was shaking with laughter now, his deep chuckles breaking through in-between words.

  “A little?” Jericho lost control when Trent made another anguished sound and burst into laughter. “Not really, Uncle Trent. It’s okay. I’m not scarred forever or anything. It’s all good, okay? You shouldn’t have to worry about being yourselves in your own home.”

  “It’s your home, too, Jericho. If it bothered you, we’d find a way to respect that.” Jake’s tone was his firm, do-not-argue-with-me one, and Jericho nodded. “But it’s good to know I can mack on my husband in the kitchen without you squidging out over it.”

  “You cannot mack on me.” Trent turned loose of Jericho and shifted so he faced the two of them on the couch, a look of horror on his face. “That’s my thing. You don’t get that. I mack on you, honeybuns. You kiss me tenderly.”

  Jericho smiled at Trent, glad to see an amused expression in return. Might as well ask the questions now.

  “What happens if you move to Memphis? How does that work when you’re in stores and stuff? Or at the movies? Eating dinner?”

  “When we move to Memphis.” Jericho didn’t miss Jake’s emphasis, and he ducked his head with a nod as he sat back so he could look between his uncles. “We’ll live in a community that’s more progressive. Just like we do here. Jericho, just because you don’t see it around here doesn’t mean prejudice doesn’t exist.” Jake pointed to the TV, where another political ad was playing. “It’s everywhere. There are no safe spaces for gays and queers. And as much as the LGBTQ community wants things to move forwards more rapidly, it’ll only go as fast as people are willing to change their thinking. There are several different areas in Memphis that are welcoming, and Conner’s looking into those school districts for us. We want to make certain the transition will be as comfortable as we can make it for you, too. Germantown is the leading candidate, in case you wanted to look it up and check it out for yourself. It’s a fact of life for us, Jericho.” Jake shook his head and reached for Trent, who took his hand. Jericho watched as their fingers did that natural thing, falling into place as if made for each other. “I heard someone describe the most profound difference between a hetero couple’s public affection and a gay couple’s. For us, it is always an act of courage, because every time we hold hands or kiss, or even walk with arms around the other, we know in our gut that we’re courting physical danger. We quickly learn how to gauge a room, a street, a crowd. I hate it, but it’s something you’ll figure out, too. All we can do is mitigate the challenges as best we can.”

  “And love each other always.” Trent’s eyes were misty, lashes clumped together as he stared at Jake. “Right, hunka-hunka?”

  “Always.” In Jake’s voice, Jericho heard determination and courage, and he was so glad to have witnessed this moment between these two men. My role models.

  Jericho’s phone buzzed lo
udly in his pocket, and Trent glanced down at him, the soft smile still in place. “Let’s eat pizza before it gets too cold. Come on, honeybuns. Jericho has a hot date with a text message.”

  Jake rolled his eyes at Jericho and made as if to stand up, then paused. “You okay, kiddo?” Jericho nodded quickly. “No, are you okay, kiddo?”

  “Yeah, Uncle Jake. I’m okay. This…helped, if you can believe it.”

  “Oh, I believe it. I’m always helpful. Jacob, why aren’t there any clean plates?” Trent’s voice drifted back from the kitchen, where he banged one cabinet door closed after another. “Where are all the clean plates?”

  “Just use paper.” Jake stood and pointed the remote to the TV, changing the channel to show a baseball game. “Don’t get so stuck in your own head, Jericho. No question’s off-limits. You can always ask anything.”

  “Except what comes in the plain, brown paper packages. Those are waaaay off-limits.” Trent was laughing. “Oh, plates. Found ’em. I thought you were going to unload the dishwasher, Jakey?”

  “Babe.”

  Jericho laughed at the anticipatory expression on Jake’s face when he uttered the single word, then was able to see the soft, pleased look as he got what he wanted.

  “Not a ‘babe’ situation, honeybuns.”

  Jake glanced down and muttered, “Oh, he’s wrong. It’s always a ‘babe’ situation.” Jake paused again, then glanced at the phone Jericho had taken out, Jordan’s name on the plethora of texts just like Trent had expected. “Be good to Jordan. He’s one of the decent ones.” With that, Jake strode around the couch and into the kitchen, calling out another amused, “Babe.”

  Maybe it’ll be okay. Jericho watched the reflections of his uncles in the window glass, seeing Jake move closer, the two blurred outlines merging for a long minute before separating.