Page 106 of Catching Kyle

“I was gonna bring him some breakfast,” I say.

“Nonsense,” she says. “Have him come here and watch the parade with us. He’s part of the family.”

My chest warms. I love how my mom is just taking him in.

“Alright,” I say, smiling. “But it’s early. Don’t go and say anything too crazy this morning.”

“Fine,” she says, sighing. “I’ll wait ‘til dinner.”

I leave and make the trek down the hill back to the cabin. Inside, Michael’s up and reading a Nora Roberts book by the looks of it. Nearby, there’s another bookshelf filled. Damn, my ma really likes Miss Nora.

“You’re back,” he says, looking up.

“Sorry,” I say. “Wanted to get you some breakfast.”

He smirks at my empty hands. “Well did you grab it?”

I smirk back. “Ma wants you to eat with the rest of us.”

He stands up and stretches, showing off just how casually muscular he is. Seeing someone look the way he does without playing a professional sport baffles me. Like, you just like this because you can? I know he did porn, but damn. That’s dedication.

“Hurry,” I say, jokingly. “Or else the chicken and waffles will get cold.”

He whips his head to me. “Chicken and waffles? Alright, I’m hurrying.”

He quickly gets dressed, and we head over to the house. When we get there, Silas, the other bookseller at the Book Corner, has already arrived. He’s wearing boots and a cowboy hat, his shirt unbuttoned low enough to show some chest hair.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite football player,” he says, reaching to shake my hand.

“Good to see you again, Silas. Glad you’re eating with us.”

With that, Michael walks from the kitchen into the main room, and all eyes fall on him.

“Well, who’s this?” Silas asks, reaching out his hand to him.

The room is silent, waiting for me to answer. Michael shakes his hand, but clearly he’s expecting me to answer the question for him. I take him in, his wonderful ginger mullet disheveled, his still-sleepy eyes only somehow making him look more handsome. I can still smell him on my skin, and I can still feel his unfailing kindness in my heart.

So I take the risk.

“This is my boyfriend,” I say. “Michael.”

Jimmy and Silas both look at me like I’ve grown a second head. But my ma doesn’t even look away from the TV. Of course, because she already knows.

Silas breaks from his stupor. “Well it’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Michael,” he says.

Michael blushes, sneaking a glance up to me, smiling. “Nice to meet you too.”

The rest of the morning, we eat, talk about the parade. Silas and Michael, both gay booksellers, immediately flock to the couch next to my ma and talk feverishly about books, hardly touching their food because they’re so distracted. Jimmy and I talk about the football season as we eat: teams that have improved, who’s headed to the playoffs, and so on.

And I’m just surprised by how easy this is.

Whenever I’m at practice, or a game—or hell, anywhere else—I constantly have to act the part. To be manly enough, to give off that I’m attracted to women and not men.

But not now. As lunch rolls around and my ma pulls out Settlers of Catan, Michael finds his way to my side and leans against me. And I put my arm around him. And no one cares. Occasionally, my ma will sneak a glance, but I can tell she’s giddy about the relationship and just wants to take it in. Though I can see how surprised Jimmy and Silas are to see me with a man on my arms, they don’t question it. It’s normal to them. They’re both gay men after all, but still. It’s so nice to just be normal.

When the sun sets, Ma says it’s time for dinner. And boy is it a feast. The table is covered in plates and saucers, and so is the kitchen counter. After her blessing, she tells us to eat whatever we want and that the rest will be distributed tonight just before the show on the water.

“What is this show?” Michael asks.