Page 80 of Summer Lessons
Terry climbed into the SUV then, and Mason gladly pulled away. Terry kept his eyes on the house, though, like he was searching for an answer in the freshly painted siding and the newly sealed eaves.
MASON STARTEDup the barbecue while Terry was in the shower, and Dane came out to help. Marinated chicken and vegetables—Mason was determined to get that weight off, and Dane… well, he wasn’t eating much these days.
“I hate that you’re obsessing about fifteen pounds,” Dane sulked, setting the plates out on the patio table. They’d bought basic furniture—the table was the same glass-topped, white-painted one every family in America had. But something about eating outside for the Battle of Mason’s Bulging Stomach while the weather wasn’t apocalyptic and the bugs hadn’t yet regrouped made the day feel special. The oak trees that dominated the uneven terrain beyond the porch and the pool fence cast a soothing shade—alyingshade, Dane had called it last August, because it hadn’t seemed to cool down a blessed thing—but the shadows were pretty.
Mason wanted to enjoy the shade and the idea that the home improvement projects in Carmichael were done, and he and Dane could start working on the porch on their house in Fair Oaks. He wanted to think about having Terry in his arms that night, and hedidn’twant to think about how it might be the last time for a while, or the second to last, or even the third to last—it didn’t matter, because the word “last” was in there, and it hurt.
What he didn’t want to do was spar with his brother.
“It’s harder to play soccer with the weight on,” Mason said evenly. “It’s not all about vanity, okay?”
“Yeah, I know,” Dane said savagely. “It’s about health. I’ve heard it often enough from Carpenter. I think it’s bullshit.”
Ugh. Upon careful consideration, Mason had decided that Carpenter’s disclosure at lunch that Monday was privileged information and that Carpenter was going to have to tell Dane himself.
But that didn’t mean Mason couldn’t say something aboutthis.
“Carpenter’s not trying to lose weight—or to attract you. At this point I think everyone pretty much knows you’re his for the taking. Hedoeswant to be healthy. And I think that includes being healthy inside, where the bad eating was coming from.”
Dane grunted. “I don’t want to talk about that.”
“Yeah, I know. Privileged info,” Mason snapped. “I’m a fan.”
“What are you so upset about?” Moodily, Dane picked up a twig that had fallen to the table from the big oak tree nearest the house and hurled it off the porch. “You don’t have to be in love with the asshole.”
“Who is amazingly worried about you. Please tell me you’ve taken your meds—”
“All weekend.” Dane held up his hands. “Don’t get your nuts in a twist.”
“Tell me you’ve kept your fluids up and your blood sugar too.” Because forgetting to eat and drink hadn’t helped the past four months.
“Pure like an angel,” Dane said, but his usual sarcasm was missing too. “Grilled cheese and an apple for lunch, sixty-four ounces of water, chocolate milk as a snack.”
For a moment they regarded each other soberly. The wounds from March and April were still raw.
“Good,” Mason said, mollified. He had to remind himself not to take his impending grief out on his brother. “Sorry. I’m just….” He smiled greenly at Dane. “I don’t know what’s going to happen next.”
Dane shrugged, deliberately not taking the bait. “You’re going to grill chicken on the barbecue. It’s been marinating all day—it’ll taste great.”
“Right. And as soon as Terry’s out, I’ll jump in the shower. That’s what’s happening next.”
And that suddenly, he knew how Terry had been thinking for the past four months. One thing to the next—the good things got you through the incipient fear of being rejected by someone you loved. He’d had practice with Dane, but this? This was the real thing.
THEY STAYEDout, sipping iced tea and eating bites of melon from a bowl. They talked about silly things: what kind of frogs were chirping from the stream that ran in the ravine beyond, how hot it was going to be that summer, how stupid you had to be to run your library card through the credit card machine at a gas station. They laughed an inappropriate amount for people who had consumed no alcohol.
When the mosquitoes got too bad, they went inside, Terry pulling at Mason’s hand until they vanished up the stairs, leaving Dane, knees drawn up to his chest, moodily flipping through channels.
When they got upstairs, Terry surprised him, though. Instead of devouring Mason, stripping him naked, and blowing him from the get-go, Terry started with a simple kiss on Mason’s cheek.
Mason smiled in the shadows of the bedroom, as always ridiculously pleased by that gesture.
Terry traced the curve of Mason’s lips. “Why you always smile like that?” he asked, close enough that Mason could feel every puff of breath.
“Because it’s not about sex,” Mason said back, running his lips gently along Terry’s temple. “You don’t kiss someone like that unless you care.”
Terry pulled back, peering at Mason’s face carefully in the dim light. “That’s true,” he said, sounding surprised. “Is that the only way you know I care?”
Mason couldn’t make himself laugh like he should. “There’s others,” he said. “Practice on Thursday, lunch on Friday, sex on Saturday—”