Page 51 of Summer Lessons
“Wait!” Terry burst out, suddenly panicky. “Guys, we can’t all go tramping into my mom’s house. She’ll shit her pants!”
Mason shrugged. “We’ll set up outside—”
“But it’s cold!”
“That’s what the coffee is for.” Mason didn’t see the problem. “And if it gets too cold, we’ll let people go out on errands in the heated cars. Honestly, Terry, as long as guys can get into the bathroom to take a leak, I think it’ll be okay.”
Terry frowned at him, eyebrows working like a small dog’s. “You know, if everyone shows up to do something nice for us, fuck her if she can’t deal, right?”
Well, that was a little harsh, but if that’s what it took to launch Terry into home and possibly life improvement? “Sure.” Mason nodded. “And you know, if you want to maybe try to get her to go to a friend’s house or something, we could be done before she even knew we were there.”
Terry’s eyes widened until they were practically an animated forest creature’s eyes. “That would be the best thing ever,” he breathed. “Let’s dothat.”
Mason and Dane nodded enthusiastically. “Deal!” Dane said. “So, we all have jobs to do there, and you and me have jobs to do today. Mason, I’m going to put the doughnuts downstairs while you dress, and thenyou’regoing to go lay on the guest room bed andI’mgoing to get out the tape and the brushes for Terry. Are we all planned out?”
Terry grabbed his third doughnut. “Five more minutes,” he said before washing his bite down with milk. “Ab banks bor be bobuth.”
Dane looked into the woefully depleted box, which he’d probably hoped would last him at least until the next day, when he had to leave at six in the morning so he could get to Davis and park by eight. “Anytime,” he said philosophically. He stood up, grabbed the box and their milk glass, and left to go get the folding chair and tape, leaving Terry to get Mason dressed and ready.
MASON WASin the middle of explaining to Terry how to tape the border between paint colors—and how to anchor the tarps to make sure the carpet and the bed didn’t get spattered—when Terry’s phone rang in his pocket.
Mason was sort of depressed that Terry had been able to use Mason’s cord to charge it when he saw the look on Terry’s face when he answered.
“Yeah, Mom. No, won’t be gone all day. Be home in a couple of hours. Helping my friend with his house—painting his guest bedroom, actually.” Terry listened for a moment and grunted like she’d reached out and smacked him. “Because they’re nice and they made dinner for me. No, I don’t feel taken advantage of. Nothereat any rate. No—I’ll come home when we’re done. Because. Because they’re helping me do something next week. No, it’s not expensive, and if it is, I’ll pay. Because. Because. Because it needs to be done. Because I said so, Mom, and I’m paying rent. Yeah, that does too give me the right to talk to you like that—I’m trying to get friends to help us fix our house. Please, Mom, don’t be awful about it. Well that’s fine. You go where you gotta go when it’s happening. No, I’m totally serious. We don’t need you there to supervise. We’ve got Mason. Yeah, he’ll still be hurt—that’s why he’s supervising. You know what? I’m done. I’ll be home around one. Bye.”
He shoved the phone in his pocket and met Mason’s look of sympathy with something so naked and pitiful that Mason held out his arms.
To his surprise, Terry rushed into them. “You must think I’m dumb,” he mumbled against Mason’s chest.
“No!” Mason held him tight, not even arguing that the chair was probably going to collapse under their weight. “I think she’s awful, but that’s not your fault.”
Terry held him tighter. “It’s so embarrassing,” he said, the admission obviously costing him. “I hate that she gets to do that. She calls me up and I’ve got to go running.”
“You didn’t this weekend,” Mason pointed out, wanting so much for that to become the norm.
Terry looked up from his chest and smiled. Tears spiked his lashes into a star, and his face was blotchy from rubbing up against Mason’s chest. “That’s right,” he said proudly. “I didn’t.”
“Nope. And you made plans for next weekend.”
Terry shrugged. “Yeah, but I’ve made breaks for it before,” he warned. “She bitched about Disneyland for a year.”
Mason hated to suggest it, but oh! He felt good in Mason’s arms. “Moving out?”
“Yeah.” The word came out as a sigh. An agreement. A prayer. “I wanna. I keep thinking, you know. You put this idea in my head. We get the house fixed up so it’s not embarrassing. Make it so someone else would want to live there with her. Or she could sell it. And then I can get an apartment or something.” He closed his eyes for a second, smiling. “Go to soccer, stay out with you. Go out to beers with my friends after work. Not having to worry. Or explain myself to her.”
He looked up at Mason, his eyes big and trusting. “I could spend an entire day in bed with you.”
Mason’s groin started to tingle, and he groaned. “Really? You mention thatnow?”
Terry laughed a little and stepped back, wiping his eyes on his shoulder.
“Yeah—this weekend sucked without sex. You think your ankle’ll be up to it next weekend?”
“As long as we stay on the bed, I think it’s okay.”
Terry backed away and turned toward the wall he’d been taping. “Sex on a bed is pretty sweet,” he agreed. “First time I got it up the butt, I was in a car, and lube was not to be found. Telling you, having shit handy—and abathroom—that’s living right there.”
Mason could either be appalled or he could laugh. He laughed, because Terry was going to clean out his mother’s backyard next weekend, and he was going to work to be free.