Page 33 of Reunion
“You’re creeping me out, Ma.” Cole slid from my hold with a subtle caress over my thigh. “You, too, Merkle.”
“Right, it’s just that—” Elizabeth waved her hand. “Never mind. You boys want some juice?” She thumped an open bottle of red wine and winked. “Then I’m shooing you away until dinner’s ready.”
I accepted the glass offered out to me and passed one to Cole as he cocked his head toward the door. “I think Aaron and Shay are back. Sounds like they’re being mauled.”
There was indeed a commotion coming from the front hall. Shortly after, Aaron and Shay appeared, faces flushed from the chill outside. Or maybe the battle through the arms and elbows of all the hooligans running around. Aaron thrust a paper bag toward Elizabeth. “Three stores and we finally found the last two cans of cranberry sauce on Earth. Don’t say I never did anything for this family.”
“Are you sorry you agreed to come yet?” Shay asked as she hugged me while a fresh wave of cousins weaved around us. There were now inflatables involved. Some sort of baseball bat that was getting bopped liberally at body parts, including the back of my thighs. Shay shrilled as she got batted on the backside.
Elizabeth threw her hands up. “Everyone who’s not cooking, get out for God’s sake!”
We scattered to the living room and eventually to the basement, where Aaron, Shay, Cole, and I overtook the old gaming console and plowed through their video game collection until we were called to the table.
Dinner was another boisterous affair, filled with laughter and crosstalk, teasing humor. There was enough food to feed the neighborhood, and a wave of contentment hit me out of nowhere, damn near bowling me over. I’d been lucky in my life that where I’d lacked the kind of warmth I craved at home, I’d found it externally in friends and their families. But Cole reached under the table and slid his hand into mine, and the timing was so prescient that my gut tightened and the corners of my eyes prickled at the idea he might move away. That I’d no longer see him on the weekends, that five hundred miles would separate us rather than a three-hour drive.
I laced my fingers between his and rested our joined hands on my thigh.
“I’m glad you came,” he said, voice dipping low as dishes clattered around us.
“Did you think for a second I wouldn’t?”
“No, I just didn’t anticipate how…nice it would be to have you here.”
“Again.”
“Again, yes.” He squeezed my hand.
After dinner, we helped with the dishes, and then Cole led me down the hallway to his old bedroom. When I stepped inside, it still smelled perfectly like him. Some of the memorabilia, photos, and posters that I remembered being on the walls were gone, replaced by diplomas and photos that were now framed instead of just stuck into a mirror frame or in a pile.
“We’ve hardly had any time alone today.” He tugged me deeper inside the room.
“It’s Thanksgiving. Comes with the territory, I think. But Christ, you have a lot of cousins. Is Christmas just the same? Are there more?”
His chuckle went breathless as I pulled him closer and brushed my lips over his. He reached out, knocking the door shut before wrapping his arms around my neck and melting into the kiss.
It went on for a long time, spurred by my acute awareness that this cozy haven of non-relationship relationship we’d made for ourselves was approaching an expiration date. When we finally broke the kiss, a pair of photos stuck in the frame of a collage I remembered him making in high school caught my eye.
“College?” I asked, and he turned to see, nodding.
“Sophomore year. Right after I came out. My parents visited. They wanted to make sure I was doing okay, I guess.”
I wandered toward it, studying his features. Fresh-faced, with an adorably lopsided grin. “Were you?”
“Yeah. I hadn’t realized it would be so liberating to just say it aloud. For a long time, I thought it was an either-or situation. As in, I either kept it to myself or I had to be all loud and proud. Like, announce it to the whole family and anyone else who would listen or something.” Cole’s gaze went thoughtful. “But I just told my parents and my roommate and my other good friend and…” He shrugged. “That was all I needed for myself, I guess.”
“I’m glad it was a nice experience.” I meant it. It made me feel good inside, knowing he’d been surrounded by such acceptance.
Cole’s mouth softened, features pulling into a frown. “I still feel bad about how I reacted to you. I know”—he lifted his hand to stall me—“you told me not to, but I do. I’ll always regret it.”
Below the solo photo of Cole was one of the two of us, my arm slung loosely around his shoulders. I’d still had an inch of height on him back then. Cole’s mom had taken the photo after a football game. He had the school’s mascot painted on his cheek. I’d been in my football gear. I was captured in profile, in the midst of saying something to Cole as he laughed. I remembered the moment perfectly. It wasn’t a momentous occasion, but I looked at the photograph and even now could feel my heart swell in my chest the way it had back then.
“I need to tell you something.” I knew without a doubt that if I didn’t, I’d regret it the same way I’d regretted not speaking up all those years ago.
Cole paled slightly, then nodded, swallowing hard. “Okay, sure. Go.”
“When I told you that day that I was gay, that wasn’t what I’d intended. I mean, it was, but the whole reason I came over in the first place was because I wanted to tell you that I was in love with you.”
Cole’s jaw dropped. “You were?”