This is a work of fiction. It is straight out of my imagination, except for most of the pagan practices mentioned. This is written for adults and if you are not supposed to read this where you live, then please don't.
Part 8
I helped Mom in the kitchen until she ran me out. I check my email in the computer room and then did a little surfing until she called us to eat. Dad and Ryan seemed to have hit it off. They were discussing the game as they left the den. They walked past me and into the dining room. I went to see if I was allowed back into the kitchen. She let me carry a few thing to the table. Dad sat at the head of the table with a seat for Mom to his right. He had Ryan sit to his left so they could continue the sports talk. I sat to Mom's left and looked at the table with a growl in my stomach.
"Well, now let's say grace," Mom said as she placed the already sliced turkey in the center of the table. We all bowed our heads as Dad mumbled the prayer. I recited a pagan prayer silently in my mind. We all dug into the bounty before us and I could tell Ryan was enjoying the experience and the food.
"So, Ryan, why aren't you with your family for the holidays?"
"Mom, what is wrong with you," I asked through clenched teeth.
"I didn't mean it in a bad way. I was just wondering about his family."
"It's ok. They live all the way in California and that is a bit far to go. My mom is a makeup artist and my dad is a casting director, so they are busy all the time, including the holidays." He told Mom more about his family in a few minutes than he had told me in a month. I was impressed with my mom's ability.
"So, do you have a girlfriend?" He blushed a bit and I held my tongue. I had to admit I wanted to hear this out.
"No, ma'am. I haven't really dated much in a long while. I focused on school and then college. I just got started in my job and now in the religious studies. I really don't have time. I have time in the future." He was a smart cookie. He gave up little to no information and headed off any other similar questions. He was a worthy adversary for Mom.
"So, you are an accountant. Why didn't you go into show business?" Mom was narrowing the attack and I was on the edge of my seat.
"Oh, I don't know. Probably the same reason the son of an accountant goes into acting. I was never impressed with it growing up. I met many famous people, but I also saw how hard it was, and the toll it took on the people around me," he said, trailing off at he end.
"So, are you going to stay in Savannah?" Mom smiled and sipped her wine. She gloated silently over the question she had formulated. It would tell her a lot, just from the way he answered it.
"I suppose that depends on a lot of things. I am keeping my options open, but I do love Savannah. If I find my life there, I will stay." Mom smiled at the answer. I figured it had told her what she wanted to know. Ryan looked at me and smiled. I returned it and we sat for a moment in silence. I looked down the table to Dad who was enjoying his meal.
"So, Dad, are you still building your models," I asked in between bites of dressing.
"Mm,hmm," he grunted in the positive.
"Have you gotten any new interesting ones," I pursued. He shrugged and then grunted an indiscernible answer.
"He just got a model of one of those big racing ships from the America's Cup. Which one is it, dear?" He mumbled something back to Mom and then stuffed a piece of turkey in his mouth. "What was that?"
"The Stars and Stripes, dammit," he spat at her.
"I was just wanting to tell Caison."
"What does he care?"
"Why wouldn't I care," I asked in total confusion.
"You don't care anything about me. Why would you care about the stupid pieces of plastic or wood that I stick together with glue." I sat dumbfounded. He dropped his fork on the table and sat back in the chair.
"I care Dad."
"If you cared you wouldn't shame us the way you do. Running around with men, doing things I shudder to think of. Dancing around under the moon in the nude killing goats, or what ever the hell witches do." I stood up and threw my napkin on the table.
"You are ridiculous," I said trying to control the anger and pain in my voice. "If you cared about me, you would know that what you just said is a bunch of shit." I looked over at Ryan. He didn't know what to do.
"No, I don't care. I don't care about what you do with men, and I don't care what you do with your witch friends. I don't care about you." I just stood silent. I could feel the tears stinging my eyes but I fought them back. Dad turned to Ryan and I prepared to step in. "Do yourself a favor and stay away from him. Get out of this witch business before it is too late. Get away from him before he turns you into a faggot too." Ryan stood up and dropped his napkin on the table.
"I can't believe you would talk to your son that way."
"He's no son of mine." That was the last thing I heard. I was on the balcony looking out at the palm trees soon after. I felt Ryan's hand on my shoulder.
"Let's go," Ryan said. I smiled and looked back out at the horizon.
"Might as well," I said. He turned me around at pulled me into a tight hug. I thanked him and we went inside to pack our things.
(To be continued) The next chapter will be submitted soon. I welcome comments, twinkchaser@excite.com