Chapter 21 – Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One

Other than me, no one at the breakfast table knew Steve. They were all friends of Lori's, and they bombarded him and us with questions. Henry was in and out, but Ellen was still in her room. Thank God. The questions got intrusive, going from "How long have you two been together?" to "How often do you have sex?" and then to details about the sex itself, like "Do you both top?" and "Do you both blow the other?"

The questions embarrassed me. I wanted to shut them down, but Steve was taking them on, answering matter of factly and, periodically, holding my hand as he did.

Lori changed the subject. "Where do you want to go to college?" she asked Steve. I knew the answer was Hamilton, where his father had gone. Steve surprised me by adding "or Kenyon" to his answer. He knew I hoped/planned to go to Denison. Kenyon was only 30 miles away from Denison.

As the conversation continued, I floated away from it. I watched Steve react and talk and realized I did, in fact, love him. Very much.

I loved his blue eyes. I love his thick, dark eyebrows. I loved his thick lips. I loved his unfinished ears (the tops splayed flat; they did not roll over like everyone else's). I loved his sinewy muscles. I love his mats of hair. I loved his length and his thickness and how he used it to make me feel.

But, it was more than that. I loved that he sought me out, so long ago when no one else did. I loved that he whispered to me when I needed to hear a voice, then forced me to whisper back. I loved that he compared himself to Peter when talking about his betrayal of me after the Karate Kid. And, I loved that he followed me up on that stage, took my hand, and kissed my mouth, the rest of the world be damned.

I knew, sitting there, that Steve loved me, too. He had faltered, but he had righted himself and risked himself for me.

I also knew, sitting there, that Steve was not my forever. We were too young and he was too straight. One day, he wouldn't be enough for me, and I wouldn't be enough for him. Not today, but one day.

I also knew, sitting there, that Steve and his father deserved to know about the baby. It would be my mother's decision, but I would tell her what I thought. If I were Henry, I'd want to know. If I were Henry, I'd think I deserved to know.

*****

My mother surprised me when I offered her my unsolicited advice. "I know," she said. "I've been thinking the same thing myself. I talked with Michael about it, and he agrees. We're going to tell him."

"Holy shit."

"Yep. Holy shit."

"When are you going to do it?"

"We haven't decided yet."

"Can I watch?"

"No, Eric, you can't watch."

*****

The secret of the baby became an obstacle for me with Steve. Every time his lips touched mine, I felt the weight of the pretense and secrecy. Every time one of us pleasured the other, the rawness of the moment made me want to share everything I knew.

One Saturday morning, Steve's father knocked on the door to Steve's room right after we had finished. We had been loud, too loud, and we expected him to insist that we be quieter in the future. Steve tried to put him off. "We'll be down in a minute."

"Unlock the door, Steven Michael." Two names connoted a seriousness for which we were not prepared, sitting in our underwear on the bed's edge as Henry paced the room.

"Look, I've been kind of missing in action as a father recently. I was confused by the fact you're both male, but I realized this morning as I tried to ignore what I was hearing that the rules – and your respect for this house – should be no different than if one of you were male and one of you were female. If that were the case, you wouldn't expect to share a bed under my roof, and you certainly wouldn't fill my house with the sounds of sex on a quiet Saturday morning. I know I can't stop you from doing whatever it is you two do. But, I can stop you both from being so damn cavalier and disrespectful about it. Steven, I'm quite certain you don't want to hear the sounds of lovemaking coming from my room, so I'm not sure why you think the reverse is okay. It's not. I'm also quite certain you had no expectation that your mother and I would let Sally or any other girl share your bed, but you've just assumed it was okay for Eric. It's not. Going forward, I expect more from both of you. Eric, Steve'll take you home."

He was right. We'd been pretty selfish and self-centered. I would never have subjected my mother to what we had subjected Steve's parents. And, there's no way I'd have wanted to listen to the noises from my mother's room that had emanated from Steve's in recent weeks. It was disappointing, but we were going to have to start sneaking around, like all other teenagers.

"Well, that's disappointing," Steve said.

"Yes, but he's right. I hadn't looked at it from that side. But, it now seems totally presumptuous to think he has no say in it. I don't think my mother would let us fuck under her nose."

"She let you and Evans sleep in her bed."

"I don't think she would have if she thought he might touch me."

"I guess we're going to have to start having sex in the back seat of the car."

"I've never done that. It sounds kind of hot."

"It does," Steve said, grabbing his crotch through his shorts, and then grabbing mine. Steve was not the defiant type, but he was in a defiant mood.

"If we need to start sneaking around, we may as well start now," he said, pinning my back to the wall, kissing me, and taking me in his hand. I took him back, and we pleasured each other as we made out. Steve bit my tongue and came in the hair above my dick. I responded on his thigh.

As we cleaned ourselves with socks, Steve said, "Please don't tell my dad." We were still laughing as we bounded down the stairs, past Henry, and to Steve's car.

Steve did not head straight to my apartment. Instead, he headed out of Paris and down a rural route.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

Steve drove for about twenty minutes and then pulled into a small, secluded area with a picnic table. We didn't have any food, so we were clearly not having a picnic.

Steve stepped out of the car, pulled off his shirt and jeans, and climbed in the back seat. "Get back here," he insisted, and I did as instructed.

"If we're going to start sneaking sex in the car, we may as well practice."

"You're insatiable."

"We don't have to if you don't want to," he said, pulling his lips from mine and feigning like he was going to get out of the car.

"Oh, no you don't," I said, grabbing his arm and pulling him down on top of me. "I always want to."

Steve hurriedly took me on my back. I hung my head off the back seat and looked at the world upside down. I liked the perspective.

When Steve was finished, we dressed and settled next to each other on the grass. It was March, but it was unseasonably warm. It was one of the first balmy days of the year, and the ground was still cold under us.

Steve took my hand and suggested we spend the day in the clearing holding hands.

A need overwhelmed me. "I have to tell you something first."

"Tell away. You know you can tell me anything."

"My mother's having your dad's baby."

"What?" he screeched, sitting up.

"My mother's having your dad's baby," I repeated, using the same inflection and the same tone of voice.

"I heard you, Eric. Jesus Christ. Does he know?"

"Not yet, and you can't tell him. My mother's going to tell him."

Steve peeled toward the car. I had to hustle not to get left.

"When's she going to tell him?"

"I don't know."

"Find out, Eric. He deserves to know. I'll tell him if she doesn't soon."

"She will."

We drove in silence for about ten minutes before Steve pulled over, slammed the car into park, and slammed his fists against the steering wheel. I had never seen him like this.

"Jesus Christ, do you know how fucked up this is? I'm driving and thinking and this is like some horrible movie that no one wants to see. My dad fucked your mother, I'm fucking you, and we're going to have a sibling. I know it's not incestuous, but it sure feels gross. All the way around."

My feelings were hurt, and I lashed out. "Is that what this is? You're 'fucking' me?"

"Goddamn, Eric, everything is not about you. This is about my dad and my mom and a baby that no one knows about and that could tear everything apart."

"Because, if that's all it is, it needs to stop." We were talking past each other.

"How could your mother get pregnant? It's 1986, for Chris-sake."

My hair stood up. I would not tolerate an attack on my mother. "It's not her fault. Your dad was there, too."

"What? Was she trying to trap him?"

"Oh my God, you are a neanderthal."

"Well?"

"No, Steven Michael, she wasn't trying to trap him. She didn't even want to keep the baby. Michael talked her into it. She didn't want to tell your dad at all, but decided she had to."

"How long have you known?"

"Awhile."

"How long's awhile?"

"I don't know."

"And you kept it from me? How could you do that? How could you tell me you love me and let me tell you I love you and keep this monstrous secret between us? You're a phony, Eric. You claim you don't like pretense, but you pretend all the time. You wear makeup for the same reasons others wear corduroys; it's who you want to be, not who you are. And, you claim you don't like secrets, but you keep secret after secret after secret."

"It's not pretend," I insisted.

"It is. It's who you want to be, not who you are."

"And, it wasn't my secret to tell."

"But, you just fucking told it, Eric. Out loud."

My head was about to explode. I thought telling him was the right thing, but everything was going wrong. I wanted to retreat to the clearing, hold Steve's hand, and drift off to sleep.

"Can you please take me home?"

"No."

"What?"

"No. You have to walk. I can't be around you right now. Get out of my car. Now!"

I got out of the car. I flipped Steve off through the back window as he drove away. I was embarrassed by myself as I did.