The next morning we woke in a fresh tangle of bodies. We had a three-way piss and then walked down and showered together. Over breakfast, we planned on getting together again when we got back from the holidays.
Back in the room, I had to finish up my project and get it in, and put the final touches on Hank's Christmas present. Then it was packing and getting ready to head out with Hank in his truck to my mom's house.
We got up early, but not as early as I had planned. Hank and I carried our stuff downstairs and packed his truck. He tied everything down and we headed out. We grabbed some coffee and a whole wheat bagel to have while we drove.
Hank's old beater truck looked like something out of a movie. You know the kind where two or three kids set out to find themselves in the world by taking an extended road trip. The only thing that looked new was his radio which was mainly used to amp up the ipod plugged into it.
I enjoyed Hank's playlists, they are always so eclectic. He would mix up alternative music, smooth jazz, classical, musical numbers and world music. He must have made some new playlists or downloaded some new music, because when he started playing name that tune, I was challenged on some of them.
He smiled when I had to say, "I don't know." He liked finding something I didn't know so I could expand my musical knowledge even more. He had this version of Don't Stop Believin' that I hadn't heard before. He said it was from a new show called Glee.
I think he secretly subscribed to Amazon's free music downloads, because there was some weird stuff that I had never heard of before. I mean Still Life Still, Gentleman Reg, and Timber Timbre; who's ever heard of these people? Not that music wasn't good, but I think he did it to stump me.
After a bit of that Hank said, "Tell me about your family. Who am I going to meet? How do you want me to act around your uncles and your family? Is your cousin Harold going to be there?"
I looked at Hank and said, "Why are you asking me these things? Just be yourself." I said and then hesitated before saying anything else. I saw Hank on campus and at his parent's house. Then I moved that image into my family and gulped.
He saw me processing information and said, "So now, how do you want me to act around your family? Do I hold your hand? Do I sit next to you on the couch? Can I put my arm around your shoulder while I am sitting there? Can I kiss you in front of them? Do I have to wear clothes at your mom's house?"
I turned and looked at him in horror. "Just kidding on the last one," he said.
"Asshole!" I said.
"Fuckface!" he said. "Can I say that at your place?"
"Shit! Hank you have me all nervous now. You had gotten me all unpanicked about this, telling me to just relax and be myself. Now you have me looking at us through their eyes and I am scared and nervous about what they are going to think and what they are going to say!" I was getting all worked up.
"Fuck!" I said and grabbed my head.
"Calm down, little brother," he said patting my leg. "Take a deep breath." He waited until I did, then he said, "I am sorry. I didn't mean to get you upset. I just want to know if we are playing this straight'" he made quotation marks in the air by taking his hands off of the steering wheel, "or are we just going to be ourselves and fuck em if they can't take a joke."
"I don't know!" I almost yelled.
"Kyle, calm down," Hank said, signaling and pulling over onto the shoulder of the road. He put the truck in neutral and turned off the engine. He moved over closer to me and took my head in his hands and made me look at him.
"Don't go down the I'm not worthy' or I'm not good enough' road. I just think that if we go into this with a bit of planning we can make the time easier on you. I don't want you going all nuts every time you see me get ready to say something." He smiled that radiant smile of his. "Let's be ourselves around your mother." I nodded, I agreed to that.
"But no nudity," I said, worried I would find Hank sitting in the living room reading the newspaper and drinking coffee naked when my mom walked in. I think she might have a heart attack.
"How about in the bedroom?" He smiled.
"I don't know if we should sleep in the same room or not," I said, realizing that I hadn't talked this over with my mom. I pictured my room with the two twin beds with matching blue bed spreads and the little clock with a old fashioned boat pilot wheel on it. I couldn't see Hank sleeping in one twin bed and me in the other.
"She will probably put you in the guest room slash sewing room and me in my room," I said trying to think how my mother would want it.
"Do you have matching Star Wars bedspreads on the twin beds in your room?" Hank asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Asshole! No, I don't," then I got that he was kidding. "I have little princess sheets!" and he roared laughing.
"That's my Kyle!" He ruffled my head. "And when your family is around on Christmas, let's just act like roommates; no hand holding, arms around the shoulders or heaven forbid, kissing." He studied my face.
"And we'll have a signal, like pulling on the earlobe if we are about to say something we shouldn't. So you just pull your earlobe and I'll switch directions in my talk or just shut up." I laughed. I couldn't see Hank just shutting up.
I was feeling better now. Truth was, I didn't know how my homophobic uncles were going to behave.
"Will your cousin be there?" he asked a bit more tentatively.
"Harold? Yeah, my Mom said he would be. I was kind of surprised." Actually, "annoyed" would have been a better word.
I knew nothing about my cousin Harold. He lived on the other side of the country. My mother said he had tried to commit suicide because he was gay. That's why she had kind of gone off the deep end in trying to prove that she accepted me and Hank. But when I heard that she had arranged for Harold to come out for Christmas, I wasn't thrilled. It just seemed to complicate everything. I had enough to worry about.
"I will have to check with Mom on how he is doing and how the family is dealing with him," I said at last. "She was kind of vague about it the last time I talked with her."
"Okay, I will just take my lead from you. You can give me updates at night or in the morning on info you have received from your mom."
"Can we talk about something else now?" I asked.
He laughed and said "Sure. Let's see. Shall we discuss the new positions we are going to try at your mom's place?" He paused and looked at me and said, "Do the bed springs squeak on your bed?"
"Asshole!" I said.
"Fuckface!" he replied. "Seriously, did they squeak when you jerked off at night?" I punched his shoulder and he feigned injury. "Ow!"
He started the truck, put it into first and pulled back onto the road. "So what are the traditions at your house for the holidays?" Hank asked.
"Well, Mom didn't do much. I've told you that she pretty much depended on me to do things. I would get a small tree for the table in the corner. Then get down the ornaments, decorations and lights from the attic. I would decorate the tree and she would sit and watch and drink tea." I was making this sound so dreadful.
"We had this cardboard fireplace that we would set up against one wall in the living room. It had this red light bulb that you plugged in and the heat from the bulb would make this little metal fan go around casting shadows to make it look like a fire was burning." I looked at him. He was so trying not to laugh. I had made that all up. I had seen one of those over at Aunt Edna's house. But I was really trying him to imagine something out of Christmas Story and little Ralphy waiting for his BB gun.
"We have this shiny green and red foil thing that I hang from the chandelier over the dining table. We have some cinnamon apple and pine candles that we put out. They give the house a nice smell." All of this was true except the cardboard fireplace. It felt good to pull one over on Hank. I just hoped he wouldn't be too mad.
But I did think that his parent's house would probably be done up like some magazine spread with pine boughs intertwined in the stairs leading upstairs, a roaring fire, lots of decorations on the mantle, every table and some elaborate centerpiece on the dining room table. The place would smell naturally of pine from the huge tree in the corner, piled high with packages, and from apple pie cooking in the kitchen.
I wondered then if he would think that my mom's house was pitiful and feel sorry for me or for her. I wondered how she would have decorated without me there to get everything done for her.
"I usually make a package of hamburger helper lasagna for Christmas eve dinner. Mom really likes that."
He laughed, "You're shitting me right?" Then he saw the look on my face. "Oh, fuck, I am sorry. You are not kidding."
I tried to laugh, "It's okay. It does sound a bit funny." I fought back the emotions and continued on. "We have bagels with cream cheese Christmas morning after we open the present for each other. Then we watch the parade on TV. I usually buy one of those complete dinners from the grocery store. I heat up the turkey, mashed potatoes, dressing and gravy."
This sounded so hokey! Fuck! "I carve the turkey. I googled how to do it. And it turns out pretty good. After dinner mom usually takes a nap while I clean up. Then I warm the apple pie and we have that with a scoop of ice cream while we watch Auntie Mame on the VHS."
I looked at him and blushed, "Yeah, we just have the VHS. It works fine."
He ruffled my head and said, "Sounds like you take good care of your mom and that you love her." I felt my eyes well up at him being so supportive. It sounded like some fucking Christmas from some fucking depressing movie like Leaving Vegas or Smart People or something.
"I have to pee," I said.
He laughed, "You can hold it a bit more. We'll be to a town in just a bit and you can go there." I squirmed a bit and figured I could hold it a bit more.
"Do you have any special Christmas songs or anything?" he asked.
"Yeah, we have this CD that I made for mom. It has all of her favorites," I tinged as I thought of the artists.
"Well?" he said, prompting me.
"I am embarrassed to say," I said with a bit of a grin. "Elvis singing Blue Christmas, Bing Crosby, Alvin and the Chipmunks, John Denver, Neil Diamond and Barbara Streisand."
He chuckled. "Okay, good thing I loaded some Christmas songs on my ipod then!"
"Oh, like what, Mega-Death, Kiss and Grateful Dead play their favorite Christmas carols?" I joked.
He laughed at that and it made me feel better.
"I have to go pee!" I said.
"Patience, little brother!" He said. "No, more like Trans-Siberian Orchestra, a little Bare-Naked Ladies, and some cool jazz Christmas." He grinned, "And I even have some new age Christmas with birds warbling and all. I bet your mom will really like that one!"
"Asshole!"
"Fuckface!" he laughed and then said, "Dude, we have to do something about that. I don't think it will go over at your mom's house. So instead of asshole, you can say George and I can say Fred, instead of fuckface."
I thought about it and said, "Why George?"
He laughed. "My dad called all of his employees George and one day one of them asked him why he called him George and my dad replied, `It is ever so much nicer than asshole.' The employee started laughing and my dad said, "You just don't want to hear me calling you Fred!' From then on all of his employees would kid and call my dad, George, when he did something wrong or incorrectly."
"Okay, George!" I said.
"Okay, Fred!" he replied.
We talked about favorite Christmases and favorite gifts. He told stories of the pranks his brothers would play. One time Harry had cum in Hank's hot chocolate while preparing everyone's for the Christmas eve after-dinner fireside get together. After Hank took a couple of sips, Harry couldn't stand it any longer and asked Hank, "So how do you like your protein flavored hot chocolate?"
The brothers got it before Hank. Hank's dad looked at Hank's mom and then told Harry, "You didn't?"
"Yep! I did," and he made the jerking off motion in his lap.
"I choked then and had hot chocolate coming out of my nose!" Hank said, "Everyone was laughing, so now every Christmas eve, Harry asks if I want some protein in my hot chocolate." Hank laughed and wiped his eyes. "Last year, Ted Jr. said he wanted some. Everyone laughed. Ted leaned down and whispered into Ted Jr.'s ear. Junior's eyes got wide and he yelled, `Sorry, none for me!' Which of course brought gales of laughter from the entire room."
Hank turned and looked at me, "And of course, if you were there this Christmas, Junior would probably be running up to you holding out his thumb and forefinger yelling, `This big?' And getting everyone to laugh."
His description of his family brought back memories of the time with them. They certainly were a wild and crazy bunch of people, but also so warm and friendly. I didn't know what Hank would think of my family.
I really had to pee! I decided I would make Hank regret making me wait. I sat there and chatted away with him and just let it flow. I knew it wouldn't hurt his plastic seats or the metal of the floorboards.
We talked on for nearly 20 minutes until we finally got to a small town. "Okay, let's find someplace for you to pee," he said.
"No need now," I said.
He looked at me quizzically. I looked at my lap and then he did. He did a double take between the road and my wet crotch and started hooting with laughter. He had to pull over and stop he was laughing so hard.
"What the fuck?" he said wiping his eyes.
"I had to go and you said you wouldn't stop, so I just went." I said smiling.
He pulled back on the road and said, "You little bastard. You are going to pay for this." He was grinning ear to ear. He pulled into a McDonald's and pulled to a parking space at the back of the lot. "Okay, get out and get some clean clothes on."
He was grinning as we got out of the truck, closed the doors and I reached to grab my duffle bag. I pulled out a clean pair of jeans, boxers and a t-shirt. I started heading towards McDonald's when Hank said, "Nope, you have to change right here." He smiled leaning on the side of his truck.
"Just be glad I pulled to the back of the lot and didn't stop alongside the road." I didn't even turn my head. I pulled off my shirt and put it on the side of the bed of his truck. Then I unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans. I toed off my shoes and then pushed my jeans and boxers to the ground in one movement.
I picked up the boxers and threw them at Hank. He laughed and ducked. I pulled on my clean boxers and jeans. Then the t-shirt. I put on my shoes. I was getting where I could balance and put on my shoes like Hank could.
Once I was finished, I went around and picked up my wet boxers and put them with my jeans and t-shirt in a plastic bag, which I stuffed between the various bags in the bed of Hank's truck.
"I am going to have fun explaining that one to your mother!" Hank said with a gleam in his eye.
"You wouldn't!" I said.
"Wanna bet?"
"Asshole!"
"Tut Tut Tut!" he said, "none of that!"
"Okay, GEORGE!"
"Much better, FRED!" We went into the place. Hank went to the men's room. I went with him to wash my hands. It was unusual for a McDonald's in that it only had a toilet and a sink not the usual separate toilet area and a urinal so more than one person could go at a time.
I stood and watched him piss. I love the sight of his dick. He caught me looking and laughed. "I remember when you couldn't piss with someone watching you. You have come a long way little brother if you can piss in my truck while we are talking!"
He had told me about the piss dares he had done with his brothers in the theatres. That's what had given me the idea.
Hank said, "I knew this one guy in high school. He was a real piss perv. If he was here, he would hose down the entire place. I mean the toilet seat, the handle, the sink, the floors, the trash can and even the roll of toilet paper. He said he was marking the place and that he would imagine some guy coming in and sitting down on the seat that he had covered in piss and reaching for toilet paper only to find it soaked."
He laughed, not noticing that my face was turning bright red. "One time the dude was pissing away by himself in a place like this and the door opened and it was the manager of the place. Piss was still spraying out of his dick as he pushed it into his pants and ran out of the store!'
Then he looked at me, saw my expression, and suddenly stopped. "What?" he asked. I looked down at the floor. "Kyle . . . oh fuck! I totally forgot!" He came over and hugged me. "Jeez, I just totally forgot. You told me you did the same thing back at home. Shit! I'm such an asshole!"
I looked up and smiled at him to show that I was OK. We went to the sink and washed our hands, then held them under the electric dryer. Hank remained quiet, waiting for my reaction.
"You certainly have some weird friends," I finally said as we walked out the door. I wondered if he caught the double meaning.
"Well, I can't think of any of MY friends that have pissed all over my truck!" We both laughed.
Back at the truck I wiped up the seat and floor with the paper towels I had brought out. I tossed them in the trash and we headed out.
He kept laughing now and then and calling me Fred as he thought about me pissing my pants. I mentally smiled to myself as I thought that I had been clever enough to do something that Hank hadn't thought I would.
The rest of the way there we talked and joked, compared movies we wanted to see and just acted like a couple of BFFs as we drove to my mom's house. I mentally laughed; `over the river and through the woods, to grandmother's house we go' ran through my mind.
As we got into town, and closer to my mom's house (my house?) I grew emotional. Was it homesickness? Or was it nerves because I was afraid of `what might be'? Or was it that I had missed my mom and couldn't wait to see her?
When we turned onto my street, I realized it was a combination of nostalgia and eagerness to see my mom. And see her in our house, without the additional trappings of my school or Hank's family. I wanted to see my mom in her environment.
At first I thought I had picked the wrong house. There were blinking lights outlining the house and lighted reindeer on the lawn. We left our stuff in the truck and went up to the door. There was a wreath on the door that twinkled with little white lights. What was going on here?
I knocked and the door opened instantly, as if she had been standing behind it waiting for me to knock. She was glowing. She had her hair all done up, wearing makeup and an apron. I looked at her as she wrapped her arms around me for a hug and then she gave me a kiss. She greeted Hank in the same manner.
I chuckled and said, "Okay, who are you and what have you done with my mother?" She looked at me strangely, further strengthen my pod theory.
"Come in, come in," she said ushering us into the living room. This was definitely not my living room. The furniture had been rearranged to accommodate a large tree in one corner in front of the window. It had hundreds of ornaments, lights, tinsels and garland on it.
The mantel had been draped with plastic pine boughs with lights. There was a plastic mistletoe ball hanging on the arch leading into the dining room. There was a nativity scene on one side table. A fire was roaring in the fireplace. Stockings hung from the mantle. "Merry Christmas" done in sparkly foil hung over the mirror behind the sofa.
My head was spinning as I took in the room. There were several presents under the tree. One of the stockings said Hank, one said Kyle and one said mom. There were miniature trees and decorations on the end tables and a poinsettia on the coffee table and I wondered if it was real or plastic. I could see an elaborate centerpiece on the little dining table.
I looked at Mom and she had been watching my expressions. "Do you like it?" she said with such a hopeful grin on her face and her hands held steepled in front of her.
"Mom, it is so ..." I paused and Hank kicked my foot, I looked at him, he was pulling his ear. "It is really beautiful," I said taking Hank's cue.
He leaned in and whispered, "Nice cardboard fireplace, George."
I smiled. Hank said, "Mrs. Gilford, the place is really festive and homey." He always knew what to say.
"Thank you, Hank. And please call my Ethel, or mom." Her eyes were gathering moisture.
He leaned in and hugged her and said, "Thank you, mom."
When she disengaged, she wiped her eyes. "Come boys, I want to show you your room"
`Our room' I thought. But I followed her down the hall. I expected her to stop at the guest bedroom, but she was heading for my room. Oh, no, not the twin bed high school bedroom.
She bustled in the room bubbling as she said, "I made a few changes. I hope you approve."
Gone were the twin bed and instead there was a huge bed, nightstands and a huge rainbow flag hanging on the wall over the bed. The walls had been painted a deep purple. The curtains had been replaced as well with sold panels of purple and white stripes.
There was a miniature tree (plastic?) all lit up on a corner table. The dresser had been painted black with black knobs added. She was standing there with the same expectant look on her face as she had had in the living room.
"Mom, it's ..." and Hank jumped in.
"It is so comfortable and modern. Very nice, mom." He was going to overuse the whole `mom' thing, I could tell.
"Oh, do you think so?" She beamed.
"Oh, Oh, Oh, and I got this for you boys." She went over to the night table, opened the drawer and pulled out a bottle and handed it to me. "It is supposed to be really good. That's what the lady at the pharmacy said when I asked her.
I reddened as I read, "KY Warming Gel. Provides a warm tingling sensation. Personal lubricant."
"Mom!" I said feeling 14 years old again and her catching me with the Hustler Magazine.
"Now, Kyle, I know you two can't keep your hands off of each other. So I just wanted to, what did she said, oh yes, `heighten the sensitivity.'" She beamed.
Hank was standing off to her side trying not to laugh and hiding his mouth. He was enjoying this!
"Mom, ah, thanks. I am sure that, ah, Hank will find it stimulating." I blushed as I tried to embarrass Hank, but embarrassing myself in the process. I put the bottle back in the drawer and closed it.
"Let's go get our stuff," Hank said.
"Yes, and then dinner should just about be ready," Mom said hustling out of the room.
Outside the front door, Hank started laughing. "Asshole!" I said.
"Now, now, it's George while we are here, Fred!" He laughed again.
"'A warm tingling sensation', I can't wait to try it!" he said as he untied the rope holding our stuff in place.
"And I swear the pod people have taken over her body," I said. "Nothing about the house is normal. A rainbow flag? And purple?!?! Omigosh, what'd she do, read some gay interior decorating magazine and then flip through the pages, close her eyes and put down her finger and yell, `This one!' I don't know what to expect next."
Hank handed me a couple of bags and said, "I believe it is called aubergine. And she is just trying to make it special when you bring your boyfriend home." Hank cracked a crooked smile, "Because you know we can't keep our hands off of each other."
"Ass ... I mean, George!"
I grabbed three bags and began carrying them in. We organized our stuff in the room and I took the presents out and put them under the tree. I noticed name tags on a couple of them for Hank. Mom didn't have money for this! But I guess Hank was right, she was just trying to be nice and make the house warmer for the holidays. It made me cringe when I wondered what else she had in mind. I kept seeing that huge rainbow flag on the bed. I mentally shook my head. I think I will be doing a lot of that over the next couple of days.
There was a knock on the front door and I wondered who that could be. Mom opened the door and fairly screamed, "Harold! So glad you could make it!"
She kissed him and then introduced him to Hank and me. I hadn't seen him in person before, at least not that I could remember. He looked familiar, though, so I must have seen pictures. He was wearing sagging jeans, and a long sleeve t-shirt with some artsy design on it. His dark blond hair was long and he kept flipping his head to get it out of his eyes. He had the stereotypical look of a sagger skater. I wondered if he was smoking pot as well.
I mentally kicked myself then for judging him before I knew him. It was something I hated people to do to me and here I was doing it to him. I figured he had enough issues to deal with without me prejudging him.
He said, "Hi," in a meek voice and shook hands in a tentative manner with both Hank and me.
"I just thought you boys would have a lot in common, so I thought you should get to know each other tonight over dinner and then maybe you could spend some time together while you boys are here for the holidays."
I hope she wasn't matchmaking, too! Because Hank was taken!
We went into the dining room. My mom had tried to fix the little table up nicely. She had paper napkins and our run of the mill stainless steel out. She disappeared into the kitchen leaving us alone.
Hank broke the ice, "So which college are you going to, Harold?"
Harold gave a tentative smile and said, "I am a senior in high school. I am being home schooled." I wondered if that was a result of the suicide attempt or whether it had it always been the case.
"Oh and how do you like that?" Hank asked, trying to keep him engaged.
"It's okay, but I miss hanging out with the some of the other kids at lunch time." He paused and then added, "I get to go to the senior prom with the other home school kids and the high school kids." Again the tentative smile.
"So you have a date all lined up?" I kicked Hank under the table.
Harold blushed and said, "No." with no additional information.
"So is the high school tolerant?" Hank asked and Harold looked at him quizzically.
"Tolerant?" Harold prompted.
"Do they allow same sex couples to attend the prom?" I was fiercely tugging on my ear lobe.
Harold tinged red again, and said, "Uh, I don't think so, but I don't know. Why?"
"Well, that way you could take a date." Hank seemed to think that was the most natural thing in the world.
"You mean you could at your high school?" Harold asked leaning forward.
"Yeah, plenty of guy-guy and girl-girl couples. Some girls in tuxedos even."
Harold couldn't seem to imagine such a thing because he said, "No shit!"
"Harold!" my mother said as she walked in carrying two steaming plates of food. They were piled high with mashed potatoes, meatloaf, green beans and gravy over the whole thing. This was so not what I was used to with Hank. She handed a plate to Hank and one to Harold.
"Looks wonderful," Hank said as he took the plate and set it in front of himself. Harold took his plate with only a nod of agreement.
Mom left and came back with hers and my plates. "Now there is plenty more out there, boys. I know at your age you can eat a house and a horse, so there is plenty."
Hank asked my mom about the recipe for the meatloaf. "Oh, I bought it at the store. You just have to heat it up in the oven and it is ready to go. They even had the mashed potatoes and gravy right there, too." Now that was my mom.
"Well, it is delicious and tastes homemade." My mom beamed at Hank's compliments.
My mom tried to steer the conversation during dinner. "They are having a film festival or something of those independent movies. I thought you boys might want to go over one night and see some of the movies."
Hank said, "That sounds interesting," Harold rolled his eyes and looked at me, with a "Like you are kidding me, right," look.
"And there's that Elton John impersonator that is playing over at the Elks Lodge this weekend and a big Christmas musical over at the high school." Hank was chocking on his mashed potatoes.
"You okay?" my mom asked, "You need some more water, or something?"
"No, no, it's okay. It just went down the wrong way," Hank said trying to regain his composure. I was so embarrassed.
"Oh, crap! I mean, excuse me, darn. I forgot the wine." She jumped up and bumped the table, in the process making the water glasses tremble. She came back with a bottle of white zinfandel and four glasses. She set the glasses down and then unscrewed the top of the wine bottle and began to pour out some wine into each glass. She went lighter on Harold's glass. "I think your mom will allow you just a bit for our homecoming celebration."
I kept kicking Hank throughout the meal as he kept my mother going and continued to pile on the praise and charisma with her. Harold spoke little, but answered questions when asked. I kept switching between being embarrassed and being appalled by some of the things she was coming up with.
After dinner, Hank helped her take the dishes to the kitchen over her protests and she wouldn't hear of him helping her in the kitchen. "You boys, take your wine to the living room and get to know each other." She blushed and said, "Goodness me. You know what I mean."
Hank chuckled appropriately as he left the kitchen, grabbed his wine glass and joined Harold and me in the living room.
It was quiet, which was unusual with Hank around. Finally Harold spoke with a nervous smile. "Okay, let's not ignore the elephant." He looked at both of us.
"Yeah, I tried. Yeah, it didn't work. Yeah, I'm gay. Yeah, my mom is getting over it." I was glad he broached the subject, but now what did I say?
"And how about your uncles?" Hank asked leaning forward.
"Well, my dad's brother, Norman, is probably the best one. He talks to me like he used to. Kyle's dad's brothers, Kyle's uncles, are a bit more tight lipped. I think it is because of the whole gay thing, but it could be because of the attempt." He blushed a bit, cleared his throat.
"The good thing is my mom told me how much she loves me, no matter what. And I want to believe that is not because I tried to kill myself." It now sounded like this was something he had said often. Did he have to talk about this at some kind of suicide anonymous group? I mentally shook my head to get the "Hi, I'm Harold and I tried to commit suicide," out of my mind.
"So are there other gay people or some sort of support group for young gay people where you live?" Hank asked.
"I heard of a group in the next town over. And Outright program. My doctor suggests I go check it out. But I don't know."
"Probably be good for you." Hank said sincerely. "I have met some people that are in the one in our community and it was great for young people to go and ask Am I?' and 'If I am, what does that mean?' and How do I tell people?' Seemed like a well run place."
"So you two are a couple?" Harold asked, looking at me.
"Yeah," I said and then said, "I mean, yes. We are. It still feels strange to say that. That he is my lover, my partner and my friend." I was getting emotional again. I felt bad that Harold didn't have what Hank and I had.
He smiled, "Wish, I had a Hank," he said wistfully.
"Say, how do you prepare for anal sex?" Harold asked and blushed a bit.
Mom walked in just after that and said, "So are you boys getting to know each other?" It was going to be a long week.
Thanks again to all the fans (new and old) that write with comments and suggestions. They are always appreciated. And thanks to Jere and Trent for assisting with the editing. However, all mistakes and typos are mine. Harryrod575@yahoo.com
Have fun
harry