My parents were coming for Justin's birthday and our Fourth of July celebration, and I was pretty damn excited. Kyle had called them to invite them even before he mailed out invitations, and they eagerly accepted. After our Christmas trip to Sarasota, I no longer thought of Arnie, my step-father, as my enemy. In fact, I thought of him as a member of my family, and I was really glad he and my mom were coming. They had never met Kevin's parents, and I couldn't wait for them to meet them. Kyle went hog-ass wild the day they were getting there, going to the farmers' market at lunch to buy provisions. Justin, being a country boy to the core, loved so-called country food, and that was exactly the kind of stuff Kyle bought. If Kyle ever got a taste of restaurant work, he would never again set foot in a hotel as an employee. His career would be restaurant all the way. And, while I liked restaurant work a lot more than the work I did, it just wasn't conducive to family life, especially if Tim was going to be a doctor. Kevin and I left the kids home cooking dinner, and we went to the airport to pick up my parents. There was much hugging and kissing from my mom, and much hand-shaking, followed almost immediately by hugging, from Arnie. They both looked great. They were tanned, and a tan makes you look healthy, even if exposure to the sun can be deadly for some people. They both must have just had their teeth cleaned, too, because their teeth looked unusually white. Teeth were the first thing Justin noticed on people, and I couldn't wait for his assessment of theirs. Everybody was at home, showered, shaved, and nicely dressed, when we got there. We introduced Seth and Cody, Alex, Tyler, and Chip, the little monkey who had most recently become part of our crowd. "And they're all gay," Arnie had asked me privately. He still had a hard time fully understanding that somebody could be gay and otherwise perfectly conventional. "We don't know about Chip, so we're assuming he's straight, but, yeah. We're all still gay, Arnie," I said. "And we figure the boyfriends are, too." He took my ribbing in the good-natured spirit it was intended, and he and I laughed. We did the obligatory tour of the house and grounds, and they were impressed. We got them settled in their room, and then everybody gathered in the den. Jeff and Tyler made the drinks. I trusted Jeff to give Tim, Brian, and Chip soft drinks, but I also figured he would fix up his brothers who were older with real booze. Ironically, I was the only non-drinker in the bunch, and I couldn't care less what those older boys drank. My precious husband, on the other hand, who tossed them back with the best of them at a party, always felt a little guilty about letting the kids have a drink. Kyle brought out munchies that were easy to eat in a room like the den. He had boiled crabs lying in wait for anybody who was adventurous enough to peel those things, but you had to do that at a table, like out on the patio. Gene and Rita got there around six, and we made the introductions. Then George and Sonya came in a little bit later. Gene and George bonded with Arnie almost immediately. I had given Gene and George the heads-up about him, and they went all out to make him their friend. The three of them walked out to the dock to see the boat, and then they did the tour of all of the vehicles we had. If there was any question about where Kyle had gotten his way with people, the answer was clear that night. He had gotten it directly from his father. Gene could out-Kyle Kyle any time. I had pretty much already known that, but that man could have gotten Arnie in bed, if he had wanted to. He proved that night why he was as successful in business as he was, and I knew he wasn't even trying all that hard. He didn't have to. I could tell my mom bonded with Rita immediately. When Sonya came in with George, it was like three long-time friends had been reunited. "This is going good, isn't it," Kyle said to me when I went into the kitchen to see if he needed help with anything. "It's going great," I said. "Kyle, the food smells good." Justin was in the kitchen helping Kyle, too. He got kind of a long face, and Kyle noticed. "What the hell's wrong with you," Kyle asked. "Cowboy up, Bubba. Get with the program. All of this is your favorite food, man." "I know," he whimpered. "Justin, what is wrong with you? You look like you're about to cry or something," Kyle said. "I am," he said. "Why the hell do you want to cry? This is supposed to make you happy," he said. "It is making me happy. This is all about me, isn't it? I mean, they came all this way because of my birthday, didn't they?" "Yeah, they did, Bubba," I said, "because they love you. And more are coming tomorrow. We all love you, Jus." "Me! Think about it," he said. That's when Kyle and I both lost it. We did think about it. We thought about him buck naked, in shackles, on a bare mattress in a motel room. We thought about the times Kyle had come really close to whipping his ass when he first came to us because he didn't know how to act. We also thought about the fun he had brought us in the months since then, the pride, the joy, the love. Suddenly the emotion was too strong. I don't know who grabbed who first, but all of us gathered together in a big three-way hug. "Thank you so much," Justin said. "I would be dead now without you." I don't know if they heard us in the other room or not, but one by one they drifted in. Tim. Kevin. Brian. Our core family. Jeff joined us in a minute, and we engulfed him in our massive hug, too. The newcomers knew instinctively what was going on, and they cried happy tears with us. Kyle let out a deep breath. "Okay. We've got a houseful of company. Let's let this be our one and only time to do this for the weekend, okay," Kyle said. Fresh tears were streaming down his face when he said that. "Okay," Justin said. Like the rest of us, he was wiping his eyes. "Let's wash our faces, guys," Kevin said. We took turns at the kitchen sink and dried ourselves with paper towels. Why that particular moment had brought out our love for one another that strongly was a mystery to me, but it had. I hadn't gotten even slightly aroused during all of that, and none of them had either, but the afterglow for me of that encounter among the seven of us was as good as the afterglow of a stupendous orgasm.
Rick's mom and step-dad came in on Wednesday afternoon, and their plane was actually on time. We met them at the airport, and it was a pretty emotional reunion. Rick had had a thing about his step-dad since we had gotten together, but I knew he now considered Arnie a friend. The kids were wonderful, as usual. Kyle cooked, and the meal was outstanding. It was all simple stuff, like corn and peas and butterbeans, but that was some of the best food of that type that I had ever eaten. He made cornbread that was fluffy light in the middle and crispy on the outside. I liked cornbread a lot, but I had always had the kind that was more like a cake than it was like bread. He served rolls, too, but everybody ate his cornbread first. He had baked it in the oven, but he had used a lot of oil, almost like it had been fried in the oven. "Kyle, this is the best cornbread I've ever eaten," Justin said. "Son, this is your Grandmother Goodson's recipe, isn't it," Rita Goodson said. "Yes, ma'am," Kyle said. "How does it compare?" "It's a hell of a lot better," Gene said. "She never cooked it long enough. This is mighty fine, son." Since the grandmother in question was Gene's mother, I guess he knew. I noticed none of the women asked for the recipe, and I knew that none of them ever intended to make it. I counted nine corn cobs on Justin's plate by the time he finished. He skipped the pork roast Kyle had given us, and he just ate vegetables. And he ate a whole lot of them. Kyle watched what he was eating the whole time, and I knew he was taking great pleasure in Justin's enjoyment of the meal he had made for him. We were going to have a much more sophisticated feed on Justin's actual birthday, but it would be catered. Getting the official birthday meal together took a lot of organizing and planning on Kyle's part, but that Wednesday night dinner for Jus and Rick's parents was Kyle's tribute to his brother and best friend. "Kyle, that might have been the best meal I've had in my whole life," Justin said, once we had finished and it was all picked up. "Thanks, but you didn't eat any meat," Kyle said. "I'm sure it was good, but you didn't cook it. What you cooked was the best, man. Kyle, that was real country cooking, and I loved it. And that cornbread was the best I've ever put in my mouth," Jus said. "I thought you were some down and out guy. Where did you eat home cooking," Kyle asked. "You want to explore every inch of me, don't you? The lady next door had me over for dinner sometimes. They didn't have any kids, so they sort of took pity on me, I think." "Did she cook good," Kyle asked. "Good, but not as good as you. And I think watermelon is the perfect dessert for a meal like that, especially yellow-meated watermelon. I saved some seeds. I'm going to plant 'em," he said. "Don't ruin the landscape," Rick said. "No, sir, I won't. You know that little alley between the clubhouse and the hedge? That gets good, strong sun all day long. That's where I'm going to plant 'em. I figure I've got room for a dozen hills back there. You won't be able to see 'em from the yard," Jus said. "I just might come raid your watermelon patch, Jus," Gene said. "I love those yellow ones." "I'd never had yellow watermelon before tonight," George said. "Are those very common?" "No, sir, that's why I want to grow us some," Jus said. "Just keep the snakes down, okay," Kyle said. "That'll be Trixie's job," Jus said. "She'll get after a snake. We saw that on the island, didn't we?" "Yeah," several of them said. "She's a beautiful dog," Sarah said. "Does she have papers." "No, ma'am. She's outside trained," Brian said. We all laughed. His sense of humor was so subtle, you couldn't really tell with a remark like that if he was being serious or making a pun. As smart as he was, I voted for a pun, and everybody else must have, too. "Sarah and Sonya, do you play bridge," Rita asked. They both said they did. "Maybe we could convince one of the gentlemen who's willing to forego the traditional after-dinner summer activity at this house to be our fourth. I think we have time to get in a few rubbers," she said. When I first met Rita, I was convinced all of her Southern Belle ways were an act. But they weren't. They were authentic, but she wasn't nearly as prim and proper as she appeared to be. She said the word "rubbers" as though it were spelled "rubbahs," and I knew she had purposely used the word, which is a perfectly legitimate term in bridge, for its comic effect with the boys. I watched their faces, and I knew it delighted them. They were just being too polite to laugh out loud. "I'll be happy to join the ladies," George said. "Splendid," Rita said. "Sarah, wait till you see her house," Sonya said. "It's to die for." "Sonya, don't exaggerate," Rita said. "She isn't exaggerating, Rita, and you damn well know it," George said. "Well, I try," Rita said, all modest and coquettish. "And succeed," I said. "We're very proud of our home, aren't we, son," Gene said. Kyle shrugged, and everybody laughed. "Typical boy," Rita said. "Yeah, but he's gay," Gene said. "What the hell use is a gay son if he can't appreciate good decorating and how much all that stuff costs?" We all knew he was teasing Kyle, but none of us was ready for what came next. "Gene!" "Dad!" Rita and Kyle said in mock horror at the same time. "What is it y'all always say? I got you last?" We all howled with laughter. Kyle hugged his dad, and they just about grinned each other to death. "You don't get two people last at one time very often," Justin said. "I've got to hand it to you, Mr. Bubba." That made us laugh, too. "I hope you find the patio comfortable tonight, dawlin'," Rita said, exaggerating her drawl. "Let's go play cards before they start getting naked. Especially Gene. Y'all don't want to see that, I can assure you." "She just got you last, Mr. Gene, and I don't think that's the end of it," Justin said. "Nor was it the beginning, Jus," Gene said. We all laughed. With the three ladies and George gone, there were still fourteen of us guys there to swim, shoot pool, and have fun. It was still early, only 8:30 or so, and there was plenty of time before we'd have to call it a night. "That George is mighty pussy-whipped, isn't he," Gene said to Rick and me. "Do you think that's why he went off with them," I asked. "That, plus I think he wanted the boys to have a chance to swim, if they wanted to," Gene said. "George is a very good man, fellas. He's my best friend, and I've got a lot of friends." "Do you think he and Sonya are in love," Rick asked. "Hell, I know George is in love. We see each other or talk on the phone every day, and, yeah, he's definitely in love with her. And I think she's in love with him, too," he said. "Do you think they'll get married," I asked. "Absolutely. It would already be planned, probably, but George is waiting on an annulment from the church. Jerry Taylor has been working on that with him. Apparently, it's a sure thing, but it takes time," Gene said. "I'll bet we've rocked George's world down here in Emerald Beach, with all the gay stuff and all," I said. "Ironically not, Kevin. I've never know a man more accepting of you guys and your orientation than George Murphy," Gene said. "More than Gene Goodson," I asked. Gene smiled. "Well, probably not more, but the same, anyway," he said. * * * That Wednesday night was the start of a long-weekend party to celebrate Jus and America. Rick and I weren't going in to work on Thursday and Friday because of our house guests, but the boys all had to work those days. That year the Fourth was on a Saturday, and our guys were off on Saturdays. They had had to work the previous year on the Fourth. It was the biggest weekend of the year for both the hotels and the gift shops, but other people would have to cover it for us. Around 10:30 Kyle came up to those of us who were sitting on the patio with Chip in his arms. Chip was naked from swimming, as was Kyle, and Chip was dead asleep. "What am I supposed to do with this one," Kyle asked. "Is he all right," Gene asked. "Yes, sir. I checked out his breathing and pulse, and they're fine. He kind of gets close to waking up, but then he goes right back under," Kyle said. "Put him in the study," Rick said. "Everything else is full. We can't leave him out here tonight. He'll freak out if he wakes up in the clubhouse by himself." "Is he asleep, or did he pass out," I asked. "He's asleep. He hasn't had a drop," Kyle said. "I'll call Jack and let him know he's spending the night here," I said. Kyle yawned. "I'm going to put him away and go to bed, too," he said. "Goodnight, Daddy." He kissed Gene on the cheek. "Goodnight, everybody." We told Kyle and Tim goodnight. Then the other boys started coming forward to say goodnight, too. We told them all goodnight, and the party ended. Rita dropped off Sarah. She walked her to the door and collected Gene, but she didn't come in. George and Sonya had gone home from the Goodson house. We all said our goodnights and went to bed.
The party that night the Jacobs' got there was really good. I thought the pork roast was outstanding, and the rest of it was good, too. I was sorry I hadn't made more cornbread because everybody really seemed to like that. I only had four cast-iron pans to work with, though. We needed more of those. I watched Justin eat, and he ate enough for a damn battalion. That was really his birthday dinner, and he knew it. We were going to have a fancy one Saturday night in his honor, but the food on Saturday was for the company, not for Jus. I mean, shrimp and lobster cocktail? She-crab soup? Come on! He'd like all of it, for sure, but his kind of food was what we served Wednesday night. He couldn't get over thanking me for making it, either. It was a pleasure to cook for somebody that you loved and that enjoyed it as much as he did. I just didn't want to be around in the bathroom the next morning when all he ate that night passed through. I spent a lot of my time that evening shooting pool with Seth, Cody, and Alex. Alex couldn't get over how it was with us, and he kept saying how much he appreciated everything. I finally had to tell him to shut the fuck up and take his shot. He laughed when I said that, but he did it. Who had as good a time as anybody at the party was Miss Trixie. We ate in the dining room, and she was right there with us. Rick said after the blessing that nobody was to feed her from their plates, but everybody, including him, did. What she wanted was meat. Justin handed her down a corn cob at one point, and she took it, no doubt thinking it was a big ole bone. She dropped that sucker in her corner, though, when she figured out what it was. Or what it wasn't, more likely. After dinner and a swim, Arnie and Brian got busy with her, teaching her tricks. Brian had the patience of Job when it came to her, and Arnie had some know-how when it came to training a dog. They had her doing all kinds of crap, and I figured we'd have us a circus dog by the time the weekend was over. They actually got her to do a backwards flip, which I thought was pretty damn good for a dog her size. Brian was about the quietest one of us, and in a couple of days or so he'd be the only one with a real legal link to Kevin and Rick. Brian was the best looking of all of us, too, I thought, and I had taken about a million pictures of him. Four of them were hanging on a wall of a gallery in New York City that night, and they were priced high. I figured they would sell, too. The local guys paid $75 an hour in modeling fees. I paid $750, but only if you happened to be my brother Brian Mathews. If they sold for what they were asking, I'd still make a nice profit after his fee. But none of that money stuff really mattered. We all had every damn thing in the world we wanted, and a whole lot more. My parents spoiled me rotten. My dad gave me the full run of that damn warehouse they had, and I used the privilege, too. I just got the basics for myself, but I was generous with the rest of them. I loved my father to death, so don't get the wrong idea. But doing that was a very dumb business decision, and I knew it. We shopped at the mall and other places, but you just couldn't beat the prices at the warehouse. The next day, Thursday, the New Orleans people got there. Rick and I had some really bad miscommunications with Kevin on that one. We both thought we were going out to eat that night. Wrong! It was Friday night we were going out. We learned that morning that we had to come up with dinner for all those people. "Kevin, I'm sorry, but there was a failure to communicate here, somewhere. I didn't know we were feeding them tonight," I said that morning at breakfast. "Well, we can go out tonight," he said. "No way," I said. "Not on the night they get here. They're going to be tired from their trip. They're not going to want to go out." "Can you and Rick do it," he asked. "Rick's got to be with you, Kevin. What are you thinking? His parents and yours will be here, and they've never even met each other. He's going to be home in the kitchen? I don't think so," I said. "Well, then, can you do it?" "Is the pope a Catholic?" He laughed. "I'm taking the afternoon off, though. I need to get this thing organized. How many?" "We had eighteen last night. I guess four more," he said. "Twenty-two people. Hmmm. I can do that." I had decided to have a fish fry on Saturday for lunch. For Tim's party, I had picked up sandwiches and fried chicken and stuff like that at the deli at the grocery store, and that had worked out good because we could just put the stuff out and people could eat it whenever they got hungry. A fish fry for lunch would mean everybody would have to stop what they were doing to sit down to eat when it was ready. I re-thought that. "Justin, come outside with me for a minute," I said. We had finished eating breakfast, and it was still too early for us to leave for work. He took out his pack of cigarettes when we got outside and offered me one. He always did that even though I almost never took one. I did that morning, though. "What's up," he asked. I told him I was thinking about frying fish that night instead of on Saturday, if that was okay with him. "Of course it's okay, Bubba. They'll be good tonight," he said. "I'm going to make cheese grits and a Greek tomato salad to go with it. Anything else you want?" "What about corn on the cob," he asked. "Well, grits are corn, you know," I said. "Oh, yeah, that's right. How about boiled okra? Okra boiled with some of those peas from last night. Were there enough of them left over?" "Hell, yeah, there were a lot of peas left over, and okra and peas are so good together, too," I said. "It'll go real good with the fish, too. I'll make some rice for the New Orleans people, though." "Ice cream for dessert," Jus said. "You always have to have ice cream after fish or seafood." "True. How about hot fudge sundaes?" He gave me the go-ahead, and then we left for work. I didn't ride with the others that morning because I would be leaving at lunch time to get ready for the party. I called the fish house I did business with on my way to work and ordered grouper, enough for twenty-five people. I knew we were only having twenty-two, and that's if Chip ate with us, which I figured he would, but I always liked to have more, just in case. I worked that morning, but my mind was on cooking and entertaining, not really on work. I was pretty excited about seeing Grandma and Grandpa Foley, and Craig and Cherie, too. I tried to remember if we had had Trixie when they had come for Tim's party, and I couldn't remember. I didn't think we had. I wished I knew how to teach her tricks. If I did, I'd teach her how to grab hold of Craig's crotch without hurting him, just as a joke. Knowing her, though, she'd probably be wagging that big ole tail of hers ninety to nothing the whole time she was pretending to want to eat him up. The morning dragged. We weren't very busy, and I just sat around a good bit, waiting for business. Cody was in and out all morning, talking to Seth. A couple of times that boy had him a big ole hog of a hard-on in his pants. I knew Seth saw it, too, and he got him one, too, one time. "Your boy seems excited to see you today," I said to Seth. "I know. He wants to go somewhere for lunch today instead of eating here," Seth said. "Liquid lunch?" Seth blushed a little bit, but he laughed when he saw I was just ragging him a little. He punched me on the arm pretty hard, though. "You like him, don't you," I said. "Yeah. I like him a lot. I still can't get over the fact that I can arouse another person, much less somebody that looks like him," he said. "I know. That used to get to me, too," I said. "Now I just accept it." "You used to think like that," he asked. It sounded like he couldn't believe such a thing. "Sure. Sometimes Tim shoots off just from sucking me, you know? That still blows my mind every time it happens," I said. "He doesn't do anything to himself," Seth asked. "Nope. He says I just turn him on that much. It doesn't happen every time, but it does happen," I said. "Kyle, we can't keep talking about this," he said. "Why? Is it making the little man want some attention?" "Yes, it is," he said. I grabbed his nipple through his shirt and kind of squeezed it a little, just to play around. "Ohhhh, don't," he said. We both laughed hard at our foolishness. The time for lunch finally got there. I told Jason, the bell captain, I was leaving for the day. "Clock out," he said. "No, I'm not clocking out. I'm going to be working for Kevin Foley this afternoon, and I'll be working a lot harder for him than I would be if I stayed here," I said. "I don't know who Kevin Foley is. Clock out." "You've been to his house, Jason. Kevin, of Kevin and Rick," I said. "If you want to keep your job, you better clock out, Goodson. And I mean it," he said. "Okay," I said. Why bother arguing, I thought. That dumbass doesn't even remember who Kevin is, or maybe he doesn't know. I dunno. "What are you doing," Mr. Rooney asked me as I was punching out. "Kevin's parents are coming in today, and I'm in charge of dinner tonight. I can't get it done unless I'm off this afternoon," I said. "That's ridiculous. You don't have to clock out for that, Kyle," he said. "Clock back in." Everybody wanted to argue over the fourteen-dollar wage I'd make that afternoon if I didn't clock out. Nobody said a word, pro or con, about the tips I'd be missing, though. "Yes, sir," I said, and I punched back in. "Chip called me a little while ago to ask if he could spend the night at Kevin's house again tonight. He's not getting on you guys' nerves, is he?" "No, sir. We all like Chip. He's just getting to be one of us," I said. "Well, he loves being with you guys, but you chase him home if he turns into a pest," he said. "Yes, sir, but that won't happen," I said. "Well, thanks for looking after him, Kyle. I owe you a big one for that," he said. A big one? No way did he mean it that way, I thought. Then I smiled a little at how stupid my thoughts were sometimes. "I didn't mean it that way," he said, when he saw me smile. When he said that, I totally lost it right there, and he did, too. We were both laughing so hard we had to prop ourselves up against the wall. "I think you just got me last," I said. He laughed even harder. "Chip told me about 'got you last,'" he said. "Well, you got me last, for sure, and in a big way," I said. I hadn't intended that to be funny, but he laughed even more. "Get out of here, Goodson, before I kick your ass," he said. I couldn't resist. "Kick?" "Get going, boy," he said. He turned to go back into his office, still laughing. * * * The fish weren't ready when I got to the fish house to pick them up. The boats were just coming in. That figured. Story of my life. "It'll be another hour and a half 'fore them fish is ready," the girl behind the counter said. She was fat and had a couple of teeth out in front. Her hair was nasty as hell, and I even noticed a couple of small fish scales caught in it. She had a tattoo of a bulldog on her right forearm. I bet she didn't shave under her arms, but I didn't want to find out first hand. I could just see myself in bed with her, both of us naked. Hot and sweaty. And greasy. "Hey, you mind if I sink a crab trap in your pussy," I'd say. "No, go ahead, but I get to eat half of 'em," she'd say. "Hot as you are, they'll probably come out already boiled," I'd say. And she'd laugh until she shook the bed to pieces. "Okay. At least I know they're fresh," I said. "I've got a little shopping to do, so I'll be back to get 'em." "Okay. Hey, do you want my number," she asked. "I've got it, Maureen," I said. She was wearing a name tag. "You do? What is it?" "Zero," I said. She laughed like that was the funniest damn thing she had ever heard. She didn't even know I was teasing her. "That ain't a number," she said. Yeah, it is, I thought. You ask any math teacher. "I know it ain't. I'm dating somebody, though. Otherwise . . ." Otherwise, I'd damn sure take your ass out. To the end of the county pier and throw it in at high tide, I thought. "You're cute," she said. "Maureen, get on the fish, okay? I want good pieces now, you hear? I'm cooking for my grandparents tonight, and it's got to be the best," I said. "It'll be the best, Kyle," she said. Shit! How the hell did she know my name? Then I remembered I was still in uniform, and I had a name tag, too. I winked at her just before I left, and she giggled. Jesus Christ! I went to a fast food place and got four chili dogs, two large fries, and a large coke. I had skipped lunch the day before, and I hadn't yet caught up. I was hungry. After I ate, I went to a roadside vegetable stand and bought okra and tomatoes. The tomatoes were just as nice as the ones I had bought the day before at the farmers' market. "Where'd this stuff come from," I asked. "Farmers' market in town. First thing this morning," the guy said. "You get fresh from there every day? Corn, too?" "Yes, sir. Every day. Especially corn. It's gotta be fresh picked the day you eat it for it to be good," he said. "I'm Kyle Goodson, and I just became a regular customer of yours," I said. I shook hands with the guy. He was pretty young, maybe eighteen or nineteen. His hand was so rough that I wondered if he had scales on it. No amount of spit or lotion could make that hand feel good on a dick. He probably stayed raw down there. His name was Curtis. "Do you know Maureen at the fish house up by the bridge on the lagoon," I asked. I sensed kinship. "Yeah. She's my cousin. She's an ugly bitch, ain't she? Did she hit on you?" "Yeah, sort of," I said. Yeah, but I didn't get close enough to her for her to hit on me with her hand, I thought. "Not surprised. She does it to me all the time," he said. "You ever, like, . . . you know?" "Yeah, a few times, but I ain't got what it takes for her," he said. "Why? Are you gay or something," I asked. "No, I ain't gay. At least not that I know of, but this is me," he said. He picked up an okra that was about six inches long. "And this is what it would take to really get in there good through all that fat." That's when he held up a cucumber that was at least a foot long. I started laughing, and he did, too. In fact, we laughed a good bit. I liked that guy, and I thought he liked me. "What's all the laughing out here," a man said, as he came through the tarp that was the back of the stand. He had a good-natured grin on his face. He just wanted in on the fun. "We're laughing about Maureen, Daddy. This is a new regular customer. He's Kyle," Curtis said. "Kyle Goodson," I said, extending my hand to shake. He was definitely another one with a raw dick, I thought, judging from the hardness of his hand. "Goodson? You any relation to Mr. Gene Goodson?" "Yes, sir. I'm his son," I said. "I've known Gene for years. Nice to meet you, Kyle," he said. "Nice to meet you, too," I said. I was slowly coming to realize that everybody in Emerald Beach, and in town, too, knew my daddy. I didn't know if that was a good thing or not. I mean, they didn't give me a discount, or anything. "Well, I've got a date with Maureen," I said. They both laughed. "Get her to take the fish scales out of her hair before you fuck her, son," the daddy said. "Why didn't you tell me that," Curtis demanded of his dad. We all laughed hard when he said it. I really liked those guys, and I could have stayed all afternoon, laughing and joking with them. I knew Justin would really like ole Curtis, too. I thought maybe one night him and me could get a couple of six packs and pick up Curtis to go drinking with us down at the county pier. Tim, Brian, and Jeff wouldn't want to go, but I knew me and Jus could be friends with that boy. I picked up my order at the fish house and put it on the credit card. To feed twenty-five people for forty dollars, and the fish so fresh I had to wait for them to get it in off the boats, was a damn good deal, I thought. And it filleted. There was nothing like summer in a beach town, except that it was so hot until the sea breeze picked up around three o'clock. That's what I waited for every day, and most days it didn't let me down. I got busy when I got home, and we had us a fine fish fry that night. We were too many to eat in the house, so I had my boys set up three tables in the clubhouse. I stopped on the way home and bought some checkerboard oil cloths to use on the tables. That's what you needed for a fish fry, not real cloth. Flowers for the tables didn't fit the occasion, either, so I wracked my brain for what to do for centerpieces. This wasn't an elegant meal, but it was a "Welcome to Emerald Beach" meal for the New Orleans crowd. Kevin collected little statues of horses, and he must have had eighty of them all over the damn house. I put eight or nine on each table as centerpieces, and I thought they looked pretty good. "Kyle, are you responsible for this," Grandma Foley said when she saw the room. "Yes, ma'am," I said. "It's beautiful, Kyle. Thank you for going to so much trouble for us," she said. "It wasn't any trouble," I said. "Tim and Brian did it, really." And they had. The two of them had set the tables, and Tim had brought out the horses I told him to get. I had only had to rearrange three or four of them, to sort of balance things out. "They might have, but you thought of putting the horses on the tables, didn't you," she asked. "Yes, ma'am," I said. My mom was right there next to her, and she was beaming. "Breeding shows, Rita," Grandma said. My mother never really grinned, but she smiled damn hard when Beth said that. I thought of Maureen and Curtis from that afternoon getting it on, breeding. Whoa! We did all the usual stuff with drinks and snacks and shit before we ate. I got all the stuff ready in the kitchen, and Rick was in charge in there. We had to do it buffet style, and I regretted that. I would have rather we served restaurant style, with a really pretty presentation on each plate. That wasn't possible, though, because I was afraid the fish would get cold. I was at the fryer outside. I had bought it just the week before, and I had never used it till that night. It had two tanks of blazing hot grease, and I could put a lot of fish to fry at one time. Everything else was on the buffet table, but that fish had to be steaming hot and crispy, too. Plus, I had hushpuppies to cook. "Get 'em out here," I said to Tim, when I knew I had about another ten minutes of cooking to do. Everybody came out and found a place in the clubhouse. Craig came over to me on the patio with a drink in his like he wanted to talk. He lit up a cigarette. "Not now, son," I said. "I'm busier than a one-armed paperhanger with the seven-year itch." He laughed his ass off. "Where does it itch?" "Shit, Craig. Get the fuck in there, man. I can't talk right now," I said. "You know I want to talk to you, but I'm too busy at the moment." He laughed some more, but at least he left me alone. I had hushpuppies bobbing up all over the place, and every one of them needed turning. When I got it all done, I took it in. Ed was fixin' to pray. "Heavenly Father, once again you have brought this family together, and we thank you for that. There are new faces here tonight, and we welcome them and love them. Beth and I, and Sarah and Arnie, thank you for our sons, for their love for one another, and for the grandsons they've given us. We thank you for Rita and Gene, and for Sonya and George. We thank you for all the boys, and we especially thank you for Chip, our Benjamin. Thank you for the presence of Clay, who will always be with us at our table of love. And thank you for these gifts, which we are about to receive from your bounty, through Christ, our Lord, Amen." Well, the Clay line did it for me and for a lot of us, including Tyler. That boy must really like Jeff, I thought. Good thing we had big napkins. "Ladies first," I said. "Then out-of-town men. Then whoever can elbow in front of the other one," I announced. They laughed, but it was a pretty orderly buffet. I wanted to be last to see if everything was still hot by the time I got to it, and it was. I guess I can do a fish fry, I thought. That was a very important skill in northwest Florida, and I had done it with minimal help. I knew I could run whole political campaigns since I knew how to give a nice fish fry. People don't think about teaching their kids stuff like that, but that was important where we lived. As I was waiting to get my food, I thought about that line you hear all the time, about having bigger fish to fry. Not me. All I wanted to do was feed my family. There were lots of things I would do different the next time I fried fish, especially on timing, but that fish fry turned out good. And I knew Justin loved it. All but the youngest had had some nice wine for dinner, and I, for one, was feeling pretty mellow after that. Trixie was in there with us, of course, but she stopped begging after three or four people gave her a piece of fish. I was a little bit nervous about giving her fish because there might be a bone or two in a piece she got, but she didn't want it anyway. "I have wanted to experiment with something for a long time," Craig said. I thought of several nasty things to say when he said that, but I kept my mouth shut. "What's that, son," Ed said. "Well, I've always heard that the name hushpuppy came from the fact that somebody was cooking hushpuppies and the dog was making a racket. They threw one to the dog and said, 'Hush, puppy.' That's where the name comes from. Can I try it with Trixie?" Craig was sitting at my table. I got up and got a platter of hushpuppies for us to throw to Trixie. He was grinning and laughing. He picked one up and said, "Trixie," real loud. She jumped up, just a-wagging and a-barking. "Hush, puppy," he said, as he threw one to her. She caught it on the fly, chewed it about three times, and wanted more. "It's true," he said. "I want to verify it," Cherie said. She let one fly and said "Hush, puppy." It must have been a girl thing because after Trixie caught Cherie's hushpuppy, she came up to her and put her head on Cherie's lap. That was too cute. I got that on film, too. Rick stood up. "Trixie, go out," he said, and she followed him like a wide receiver followed a quarterback. She caught it, too, and had it down in two chews. Before I knew it, the heart surgeon, the oral surgeon, the CEO of Goodson, the orthodontist, the two Executive Vice-Presidents of Goodson, and the pediatrician were taking turns throwing hushpuppies to Trixie. Everybody was laughing their asses off and having a great time. Then Justin, Brian, Tim, and Jeff joined in. I thought a fucking food fight was about to break out. "Kyle, go make some more," Jus said, when they were about out. "No way," I said. "Oh, man," he said. "Jus, it ain't good for her to eat stuff like that," I said. "She can handle it," Beth said. "The veterinarian should know," Ed said. George and Sonya laughed when he heard that. Beth shot Ed a bird, and the whole room laughed when she did it. "That was fun. And pretty wild for this group," Jus said. "How'd it happen?" "I know how," I said. Then I started singing. "Blame it all on my roots. I showed up in boots. I ruined your black-tie affair." That was all I had to sing. Most of them knew that song because we had heard it so damn many times, and they were all singing along on the next line. I saw Jeff slip the CD into the player, and I saw him find the track. In about two seconds, the song came on. In about another two seconds, Justin snatched me up to dance. The rest of them were right behind us, and we got a good dance going. Trixie was mighty excited. She was running all over the place, barking and wagging that tail. She wanted to dance, too. She was pestering Brian, and she wanted him to pick her up. He did, too, and they danced together. I had my cameras at the ready, of course, and I got some great shots of them dancing. Brian kissed her on the lips, and she snaked out that tongue. That broke all my training rules about her licking, but I knew those pictures would fetch a couple thousand each in New York. Nobody, gay or straight, could resist a boy as good looking as Brian kissing a dog as good looking as Trixie. He put her down, and she barked her head off for him to pick her up again. Rick went over to the buffet table and picked an okra out of the okra and peas dish. He flung it at her and said, "Hush, puppy." She caught it on the fly and swallowed it. But it wasn't what she was expecting. She gagged on it and went and sat down for a little while. She was back up dancing with us in a few minutes, though, wagging, barking, and grinning. |