Dad got home from work around five, and Craig and Cherie were there by six. Everybody was happy to see everybody else, and I was especially pleased to see Cherie. She was already three months pregnant, but she didn't yet "show." "When will you start looking pregnant?" Kyle asked. "Probably not until the fifth month, if what I read is accurate," she said. "That varies enormously, Cherie," my mom said. "Your body build is pretty average, so that will probably be when you show, though." "I think I showed at four months," Rita said. Rita was a petite woman, and I was almost sure I could join my two hands around her waist. "When will you know the baby's sex," Kyle asked. "Not for a good while yet, Bubba," Craig said. "It's not due until the end of June, and I think they can tell that in the fifth or sixth month." "Anybody interested in a little wager on it?" Rick asked. "How would it work?" Kyle asked. I could tell he was interested. "The way I see it, we've got three variables. Three unknowns. Sex, date of birth, and weight. We could bet on all three," Rick said. "Three different pools?" Kyle asked. "We could do that, or we could have one pool for all three," Rick said. "I think the three pools would be best. The only problem is, how do we handle sex?" Craig asked. "Ask your brother," Dad said. Of course, everybody screamed with laughter, and I'm sure I blushed. My dad had started teasing me and Craig about sex more and more, and I took that to mean he recognized that we were fully adult. I kind of liked it, even though it was a little embarrassing now and then. "How do we handle sex, Kevin?" Craig asked. "In what context?" I asked. That got a good laugh, too. "The pool, asshole," Craig said. "They won't let us do anything in the pool," Justin said. Again, more laughter. "I can see this group isn't very serious about this bet," Rick said. "We each choose either male or female. If it's a boy, the ones that bet on male divide up the money that was bet on female, and vice versa." "Okay. That works," Craig said. "What's the official due date?" I asked. "June thirtieth," Cherie said. "I claim July fourth, my birthday," Justin said. "Okay," Rick said. "Let's start writing this stuff down. How much do we want to bet? Ten bucks for each thing?" "That sounds about right," Craig said. "How many of us are there?" "Fifteen," Kevin said. "Sixteen, counting junior, but he doesn't get to bet." "She," Cherie said adamantly. That made us laugh, too. "Thirty bucks a piece for all three," Rick said. "Can you guys bet that much?" He was talking to the boys. "Yeah, we can," Kyle said. "I don't know . . . ," Denny started to say. "Don't worry about it," Kyle said to him. Denny smiled. It's good to have a rich brother, I thought. Rich and generous. We got the details of the pool worked out, and everybody made their bets. "I'll hold the money," Craig said. "Like hell, you will," Rick said. "Your mother holds the money and the bets. Nobody else does." "You don't trust me?" Craig asked. He and Rick were teasing each other. "Of course I do, but I trust your mother more," Rick said. "So do I," Craig said, and that made everybody laugh. We had been served drinks, and we were nibbling on leftovers from the lunch my mom had served us. It was time to get busy on the oysters. The men got fresh drinks and went outside. It was in the low fifties, so we wore light jackets. The grown-ups clustered in a sort of semi-circle in front of the table where the boys were going to work, and the boys who weren't shucking oysters stood around like that, too. We talked about a million things out there. At one point, my dad pulled me aside. "Kevin, I didn't have a chance to talk to you when you all were here in October, but I think that what you and Rick did for Cherie and Craig is marvelous. They are so happy, and your mother and I are, too," he said. "I didn't think I did all that much, Dad. It didn't exactly hurt, you know?" He laughed. "I know, but you guys had to go to some trouble. Besides, you're giving the world the gift of a new life, and one from a very good gene pool, I might add. I was dead set against using an anonymous sperm donor. I didn't say anything, of course, but I was so pleased with the way it worked out," he said. "I noticed you bet it's going to be a girl," I said. "I did that for your mother. She wants a granddaughter so badly she can almost taste it, son. I hope it's a boy, though. And maybe there'll be a second one in a couple of years. How would you feel about that," he asked. That hadn't occurred to me. "They didn't use all of your sperm. I think they said there's enough for three tries," he said. "Oh, I'll be happy to give some more," I said. He had just taken a mouthful of his drink. He laughed so hard he spewed it out onto the grass. I hadn't said that to be funny, but I realized that it was. I laughed, too. The meal that night was first rate. We started with filé gumbo. "Beth, the gumbo's delicious," Rita said. "It's very different, though. I've never had gumbo with oysters in it before." "This is filé gumbo, or winter gumbo," Mom said. "It's made with turkey and oysters and sausage instead of okra and shrimp and crabs." "What's filé?" Kyle asked. "It's the stuff in that shaker," I said. "Did you put some in yours?" "I saw you loading up on it. I thought it was pepper, though," Justin said. "It looks like pepper, but it's finely ground sassafras leaves," Dad said. "If you haven't put some in yours, I'd highly recommend that you do." The New Orleans natives, plus Rick, had already used the filé heavily, but nobody else had. They all wanted to try it. In a few minutes, the whole dining room smelled of filé. "This stuff smells good," Kyle said. As the meal progressed, my parents made it a point of addressing questions to each of the boys in turn. Brian told all about his work in learning how to be a "dog man," something he took enormous pride in. Kyle told about some of his activities with student government. "Are you still active in the scouts?" Dad asked. "No, sir. When I turned eighteen I had to get out. I could have become a Venture Scout or an Explorer, but I decided to drop out. I'm in so much at school that I really haven't been very active this year," he said. "Well, I can understand that," Dad said. "But it was a great adventure for you, wasn't it?" "Yes, sir. That's how I met Tim." "Oh, I didn't realize that," Dad said. "It was wonderful for both of my boys, Ed," Gene said. "I'll never understand the Boy Scouts' position on gays." "And now they're kicking out atheists, too," Ed said. "Depriving boys of a wonderful, life-directing activity, all in the name of God." They carried on about Justin's grades in college and about his promotion at work. Tim talked about how excited he was for Sonya and his dad, and George and Sonya were bursting with pride. Denny told about debate and about how he and his partner had come in third at the novice debate tournament they had gone to at Florida State. "We're going to run in a marathon, Grandpa. Are you and Grandma going to come see us?" Justin asked. "I didn't know anything about it," Dad said. "Do tell." "The four of us and Tyler are going to be a relay team. It's the first weekend in February in Birmingham. It's the Mercedes-Benz Marathon. Rick's running the regular race," Justin said. Alex had been the original fifth in the relay, but Tyler had agreed to replace Alex when he left. Rick had actually gotten them out to train a few times, but they had all promised to get more serious about it after we got back from Sarasota. "Well, we'll have to give that some thought," Dad said. "I guess everybody else is going." All the Emerald Beach people said they were. "Don't forget our wedding on January thirty-first," George said. "Oh, we'll definitely be at that," Mom said. "The invitation came just yesterday. We're looking forward to it." The conversation continued in the same vein throughout the rest of the meal. We teased and joked and "got you last" over and over. It might have been my imagination, but the love and unity and concern for one another among the people around that table was palpable. It's no wonder, I thought, that the Lord chose a meal, a gathering of friends around His table, as the central act of our religion. There we were, male and female, gay and straight, Catholic and non-Catholic, joined together to celebrate love and family on the occasion of the Lord's birth. I had to wipe away a tear before it trickled down my face. After dinner we went for a ride to see the lights. Jeff and Tyler, and Craig and Cherie squeezed into the Suburban with us, and the six "oldsters," as Tim referred to them, rode in Rita's land yacht of a car. When the boys got their first glimpse of my parents' street, with twenty thousand or more colored lights in the canopy of the oak trees, they cheered. We rode around our neighborhood a while, checking out the other streets that had done the same thing. We went to the display of lights in City Park and rode around in a few more affluent neighborhoods checking out the spectacle. We went to Café du Monde for coffee and beignets in the French Quarter. Then we walked around the Quarter for a while. We ended up at the Cat's Meow on Bourbon Street, just as we had the year before. It was a karaoke bar, with dancing. Kyle sang several songs, and he and Justin sang a couple of duets. At one point, two male couples got up to dance. I got a little uneasy for some reason. Then, before I knew it, Tim and Kyle, Justin and Brian, and Jeff and Tyler were up dancing. "I need to stop this," I said. My mother grabbed me hard by the arm as I was getting up. "Why?" she asked. "They're not in any danger here, and you know it." "It looks like you need a little attitude adjustment, Kevin," Gene said. "Kyle and Tim dance better than I thought they would." Rick grabbed my hand, leaned over, and whispered, "Do you want to dance?" "Yeah," I said, and he and I got up to dance. The boys went wild when they saw us dancing, and the DJ gave all the dancers a thumbs up. When that song ended, Kyle went back on the stage to sing again. His choice was "The Little Old Lady from Pasadena," by the Beach Boys, and he announced it was dedicated to his grandmother. Tim made Denny dance with him, and Mom and Dad, Gene and Rita, and George and Sonya joined us on the floor. In a few seconds, Craig and Cherie were up dancing, too. She loved to dance, and he hated it. Not that night, though. We kept it up till midnight. * * * The next morning the whole crowd went to Mass at the Cathedral. The effeminate auxiliary bishop who had said the Mass we attended there the year before presided at that one as well. Justin remembered him, and he gave my father no peace. "He's looking at you, Ed," he muttered. Only those immediately around him could hear him. "See that smile? That was for you, Grandpa," Justin said. The more Justin said, the more tickled my parents got, especially my dad. "It's time for the Kiss of Peace, Ed," Justin said, and he rapidly slipped his tongue out and back. That was all it took. Both of my parents lost it. Fortunately we were sitting near the back of the church, and they were able to slip out without many people seeing them. The bishop didn't break stride, but I could tell he noticed. There was a slight smile on his face as he looked in our direction. After Mass we gathered in the plaza between the Cathedral and Jackson Square. The bishop was there greeting parishioners. "You're Ed Foley, aren't you?" the bishop asked. "Yes, your Excellency," Dad said. "You've got quite a memory." "The name's Greg Bascomb, as you well know. Is this your wife?" he asked, indicating Mom. "Yeah. And these are my sons, Craig and Kevin, and Craig's wife, Cherie, and Kevin's husband, Rick. And these are our grandsons, and our friends from Florida, the Goodsons and George Murphy and his fiancée Sonya Jenkins." He shook hands with each of us in turn. "This is quite a group," the bishop said. "Did you say 'Kevin's husband?'" "Yes," Dad said, without a blink of the eye. "If I remember correctly from our alumni newspaper, you're a doctor. Is that right?" "Yes, I am. I'm a heart surgeon, and my wife, Beth, is a pediatrician. George is an oral surgeon, and Sonya is an orthodontist. Craig and Cherie are lawyers, and Kevin and Rick are businessmen, as is Gene," he said. "I'm a housewife," Rita said. "I'm so sorry, Rita. She's much more than a housewife, Greg. She's Gene's crutch and support in a very big business," my dad said. I could tell he was slightly embarrassed because he forgot Rita. "And the young men?" "Students, still, except for Tyler. He's in the Coast Guard," Dad said. "This is an amazing group," Greg said. "Congratulations, Ed." "Thanks. We're going from here to the race track. Would you care to join us?" Dad asked. Bishop Greg put his hand to his chin, like he was thinking. "I haven't been to the track in years. Will you help me bet, if I go?" he asked. "Yes, sir, we will," Justin said. "Come on and go with us." Bishop Greg sort of giggled a little when Jus said that. I knew Justin had no idea of that man's rank in the Catholic church. "Will I hold you up too much if I change?" Greg said. "No, sir, I think you need to. That outfit's going to stick out like a sore thumb at the track," Justin said. The bishop was dressed in all the vestments for Mass, and he was wearing his miter and carrying his episcopal crosier. Yes, he would have definitely stuck out at the track. He howled with laughter at what Justin said. Post time was 12:30, and we got there at 11:45. We had time to get something to eat, place our bets, and be in the grandstand for the start of the first race. We had a great time that afternoon, and Greg, which is what he insisted we call him, was delightful. He and my dad reminisced about their high school days and talked about their classmates and what they were doing now. My dad pointed out that there were right at thirty doctors and dentists in their class, and everybody sort of marveled at that. Craig and I weren't one bit surprised, though, and we both said there were probably that many in our classes, too. It was that kind of school. Greg ended up coming over to our house for drinks and "leftovers" from the night before. The kids got the food ready while my mother held court in the living room, not the den. The kids were mainly in the den, but all of us sort of drifted back and forth among the living room, the den, and the dining room, where the food was put out. It was a great day, and we had made a new friend in Greg.
Grandpa had to work on Monday, so he took Tim and Brian in with him. Those two were like in pre-medical school with him, or something. Craig and Cherie hadn't spent the night with us like they had the year before, and they both had to work on Monday, too. Jeff, Tyler, and Denny went off sight-seeing. They were going to cover old ground, like the zoo and the aquarium, and I wasn't interested in that. Grandma, my parents, and Tim's parents went shopping. That was too boring for me. That left me and Justin, Kevin and Rick to find something to do. We hadn't yet seen the Super Dome, so we went into downtown to see it. They gave us about an hour tour of the place, and it was awesome. That was the biggest damn place I had ever been in, and I got a little bit queasy when we were all the way up at the top of it. "I want to come to a game in here one time," I said. "It's awesome, Kyle. Kevin and I have both been to a game in here. The football national championship between Florida State and Florida," Rick said. "Yeah, you told us about that," I said. "Let's hope that happens here again, 'cause I want to be here for it." "It might. The BCS National Championship is here every four years. It could happen again," Rick said. "I hope so," I said. "Do you guys want to shoot some pool at my old hang-out?" Kevin asked. "Yeah, but how about some lunch first?" Justin asked. "We can get lunch there. Po' boys," Kevin said. "Sounds good to me," Justin said. We drove for a while back to Metairie, Kevin's neighborhood. We pulled into this parking lot that was oyster shells, not blacktop. The tires crunched the shells. The place sort of looked run down to me. Inside, there must have been thirty pool tables. They had some claw machines and pinball machines, too, but it wasn't an arcade. It was mostly pool. We took seats at the bar. This big fat guy came over to us. "What'll it be, gents?" he asked. We had already looked at the menu, which was printed on some laminated placemats that were already in front of us. I had seen "oyster loaf," and I knew that's what I wanted. Kevin and Rick each ordered roast beef po' boys, Justin got a combination, which was ham and cheese, and I got an oyster loaf, which was fried oysters. "Drafts for all of us," Kevin said. The guy brought our beers to us, and I noticed him studying Kevin's face. "I know you, don't I," the guy said. "You should. I'm Kevin Foley." "Jesus Christ! Kevin! How fucking long has it been, man? Jesus Christ!" "Four years, I guess. Four-and-a-half, five, maybe? A long time, Chubby," Kevin said. "Goddamn, boy! You're all grown up," Chubby said. "Yep. Grown up. Married. This is my partner, Rick Mashburn." Chubby shook Rick's hand like he met a guy's husband every day. Damn, I thought. "And these are our sons, Justin Davis and Kyle Goodson," Kevin said. Chubby shook our hands, too. "They all come back eventually. Look around, Kevin, you'll probably see some friends of yours in here. It's the same old place. Nothing changes here," Chubby said. "Especially not the grease in the fryer," Kevin said. Chubby laughed. "Never," he said. And he and Kevin laughed some more. Chubby turned his head over his left shoulder and shouted, "Speed it up. I've got some hungry men out here, and they're regulars." Then, confidentially to us, "The help is all foreign now, Kev. I have to constantly bust their balls. It's not like when you were a kid." "Lighten up, Chub. We're not in a rush," Kevin said. "The place looks the same to me, after all those years." "Yeah, it is. I've replaced two or three tables, but it's basically the same as when my grandpa ran it and my daddy did, too," he said. "How's your daddy?" Kevin asked. "Not good. He had a couple of strokes, and he's in a nursing home. Dementia. Me and Angela can't handle him at our house. We didn't have any choice. He's in a wheelchair. Can't even piss by himself anymore. It's pretty sad," Chubby said. "I'm sorry, man," Kevin said. "He was a great old guy when I knew him." "Yeah, well, it happens. What's your fucking brother up to? I haven't seen him in forever. You guys were in here all the time, and now I never see yas." "He's a lawyer. He's married and his wife is pregnant," Kevin said. "He's working today. Otherwise he'd be here with us. I'll try to get him in here while I'm home." "Where's home to you now?" "Emerald Beach, Florida," Kevin said. "Gorgeous! I love that fucking place, man," Chubby said. They brought out the food then. "Lemme let yas eat," Chubby said. He took out a rack of pool balls and set it on the bar. "The pool's on me today, Kevin, but you got to pay for the food," Chubby said. I loved oysters better than just about anything, and that oyster loaf I had there was the best fried oysters I had ever had in my life. I put that place in a special spot in my memory, and I knew I would be coming back there. After we finished eating, Kevin and Rick hung out at the bar talking to Chubby. Justin and I wanted to shoot pool, though, so we took the rack of balls Chubby had given us and went to a table. There were two guys at the table next to us who were really cute. They were our age or maybe a little bit older, and they were awesome. "Did you notice those guys next door?" I asked Justin. "Of course. You think I'm blind?" We were playing Eight Ball, which was a game I really liked. I liked other pool games, too, like Nine Ball and Continuous Pool, but I thought Eight Ball was just right for two players. I broke and sank a solid on the break. I missed my second shot, though, and Justin took over. While he was shooting, I had my eye on the two next to us. One of 'em was named Kevin. He was big and really, really good looking. "Shit," the Kevin boy said when he missed a shot. "Don't get upset, Babe," the other boy said. He put his hand on Kevin's shoulder like that's where it belonged. Kevin smiled real sweet, and he brushed the end of the other boy's nose. I wasn't believing what I was seeing. If those two weren't gay, then neither was I, I thought. "Kyle, it's your turn," Justin said. "Hold your horses, son," I said. I took my shot and made it. I missed on the second one, though. Justin watched the other two like I had been doing. "I think those two are gay," he whispered to me. "Me, too," I whispered back. "They're cute as hell, too," Justin whispered. Justin fired up a smoke and offered me one. I hadn't felt like smoking in a while, so I said no. Those other boys noticed, though, and they got theirs out. "Can we get a light off you," the Kevin boy said. "Sure," Jus said. He flicked his lighter and held it up. Kevin lit his smoke, and then the other one did, too. Kevin and Rick came over to our table just then. "Hey," Kevin said. "I know you. You're Kevin Smyth, aren't you?" "That's right," the boy said. "I'm Kevin Foley. We live two houses down," he said. "Oh, yeah, man," the other Kevin said. They shook hands. "Your mom's the one who organized the Christmas lights, right?" Kevin Smyth said. "Yeah. Kevin, I want you to meet these guys. This is my partner, Rick Mashburn, and these are our sons, Kyle Goodson and Justin Davis. We're here visiting my parents." "Cool. Did you say Rick is your partner? As in life partner?" Kevin Smyth asked. "That's right," our Kevin said. "I want you guys to meet my life partner. This is Matt Smyth," he said. "You guys took the same last name?" I asked. "No. It's absolute pure coincidence. Our dads are partners, too, in business and in life," Kevin Smyth said. "Damn, it's a houseful of queers," Justin said. I could tell the Smyth boys didn't know what to make of that statement, so I stepped in. "Just like ours," I said. "You guys are gay, too?" Matt asked, like he couldn't believe it. "Yeah. And there's a wad more of us, too," Justin said. "Are you two . . . " He waved his finger between me and Jus wanting to know if we were a couple, I guess. "No, they're not together," Kevin Foley said. "Just brothers and best friends." "And you said they are your sons?" "It's complicated, dude," Justin said. "We'll explain it if you've got a couple of hours." "We don't have anything to do," Kevin Smyth said. We sat down at a table, and we explained the whole arrangement in Emerald Beach. It only took a few minutes, though. I had noticed that behind the bar Chubby had a big ole jar of pistachio nuts, and I wanted some bad. I went up there and bought ten dollars' worth. He put them in a big basket, and he gave me a couple of paper plates to put the shells on. I took them back to the table. "That is awesome," Matt said. "I think we ought to do that in a few years, Babe." "I know. So what do you guys do for work?" Kevin Smyth asked, just as I was walking up with the nuts. Everybody's eyes got pretty big. Kevin and Rick told all about Goodson. "I work there, too, part time," Justin said. "I'm going to be a desk clerk at the Sheraton Laguna Hotel when I go back after the holidays." We spent the rest of the afternoon talking and eating pistachio nuts. A few guys drifted in and out of the place, but I knew that Chubby guy didn't care if we were there. In fact, he came over for a little while and talked to us, too. "We're moving here in a year and a half, and this is going to be my hang-out," Justin said. "This is a fine place, Chubby. Good food, good people, good pool, and good nuts. What more can you ask for?" We all laughed a little bit. "Great. What's your name?" Chubby asked. "Justin Davis, and this is Kyle Goodson. We're going to be in here with you while our boyfriends are home studying their asses off," he said. "Chubby, I appreciate the fact that this place is so gay-friendly," Rick said. "Most places in New Orleans are like this. But, you know, life is too short to give a shit whether somebody is gay or not," Chubby said. "One time this guy got drunk and started making remarks about queers and faggots and homos. Finally, the ten or fifteen gay guys who happened to be in here then had enough. They hauled his ass out into the parking lot, and they must have scared the bejesus out of him. I ain't seen him since." "Did they beat him up?" I asked. "I don't know what they did or said to him. Since then I've tossed a couple of guys out for getting on the gay guys. I don't allow the word 'nigger' in here, either. This is strictly a neighborhood hang out, and everybody's welcome. Did you ever see that show Cheers! on TV?" he asked. "Yes, sir," Justin said. "We even went to that place in Boston." "Well, this place is like Cheers. Everybody's welcome, everybody knows your name, and everybody's glad to see you when you come in," Chubby said. "Ain't that right, Kevin?" "That's the truth, Chub," Kevin Foley said. Kevin Smyth looked like he was fixing to answer before our Kevin did. "What were you going to say, Kevin?" Chubby asked Kevin Smyth. "Exactly what he said," he said. "Guys, I can't tell you the amount of time I spent in here in high school and college," Kevin Foley said. "I think you spent your Christmas vacations from college in here, Kevin," Chubby said. "A lot of times card games break out, and guys spend whole days in here on one beer and a po' boy." "Do they play poker?" I asked. "Yeah, some, but mostly they play boureé," he said. "What is that?" I asked. "That's a Cajun card game. Some people call it Cajun bridge. I've seen pots get up to a thousand bucks or more," Chubby said. "It can get pretty exciting." "Shit, I haven't thought of boureé in years," our Kevin said. "It's as much fun to watch as it is to play. We called the game boo," Kevin said. "That's what it still is called around here," Chubby said. "Just plain boo. There'll be some games tonight, I'm sure." "Damn, I wish we could be here," I said. "We've got the Hornets game tonight, Bubba," Justin said. "I know. I'm looking forward to that, too," I said. "Maybe we can drop by after the game," our Kevin said. "I'll be long gone, but my son will be here," Chubby said. "A. J.?" Kevin asked, kind of excited. "God, it would be good to see him. He and I were pretty good friends in high school, you know?" "Yep, A. J. He's my only son, Kevin," Chubby said. "The rest are girls, remember? I think you probably fucked the youngest one. Everybody else did." He seemed sort of sad the way he said that. "Craig might have, Chubby, but I never did," Kevin said. "Oh, I forgot," he said, and we all laughed. "A. J.'s got the two cutest little boys you ever saw in your life, Kevin. They've got both me and Angela wrapped around their little fingers," he said. "Chubby, it's hard to think of you as a grandpa," our Kevin said. "Well I am, buddy. Six times," he said. "Four girls and two boys." "So this place is going to be around for a long time," Kevin said. "I hope so," Chubby said. "You know we've been here sixty-five years?" "No, I didn't know that. Jesus!" Kevin said. "Yep. A. J. is fourth generation, and, God willing, the little boys will be the fifth," he said. "That's the way we do it in New Orleans, you know?" "Yeah, I do know, Chubby," Kevin said. Some customers came in, and Chubby had to go see about them. "God, I'm so full," Justin said. "I think you ate three pounds of those nuts," Rick said. "I know it. I was like a crazed beast. I couldn't stop myself," Jus said. "Those were so good, Kyle. Thanks for getting 'em, Bubba." "Is your nickname 'Bubba?'" Matt asked. "We all call each other that. Our brother Jeff says it's because we're too stupid to remember each other's real names," I said. Those boys laughed. "Let's bring everybody back here after the game tonight," I said. "Okay. It shouldn't be all that late," Kevin said. "Are you cool with that, Babe?" "Sure," Rick said. "We'll be here," Kevin Smyth said. Once we were in the car on the way home, Kevin asked, "Y'all liked that place, didn't you?" "I can see me and Kyle spending lots of evenings there," Jus said. "And it's pretty much walking distance, isn't it?" "You guys are going to love New Orleans," Kevin said. "Of course, you're going to break our hearts when you all leave, but better here than someplace like Boston." "Doc wants Tim to apply to Harvard, you know," I said. Everybody was quiet for a few moments. "What does Tim want?" Kevin asked. "Tim wants here, and so do I," I said. "Y'all are blowing my redneck mind," Justin said. "Yeah, right, Mister 3 point 5 G-P-A," I said. They all laughed. "That was a fluke," Justin said. "Yeah, it was about as much of a fluke as Kyle being a National Merit Semifinalist," Rick said. "Cut the shit, guys. As badly as you want to be, you're not fucking dumb." We were all quiet for a few seconds. "Rick, I think Kyle really is," Justin said in all seriousness. That broke the four of us up. I didn't even have to say "you got me last." * * * The Hornets played good that night. There was a whole lot of energy and excitement in that arena, and all of us got caught up in it immediately. The first thing I did was buy me a Hornets baseball cap, and I wore it all through the game. Not too many of our guys were cap wearers, but Justin and Tim were. Brian had become one just to fit in, and we all got us caps. The Hornets won, but it was nip and tuck to the very end. That makes for an exciting game, but it made me nervous as hell. I liked football way better. That score changing every two seconds or so kept me riled up inside. That was my first NBA game ever, and, overall, I loved it. I ate me a couple of hot dogs and some popcorn during the game, but I was looking forward to another po' boy at the Rack and Cue after the game. That's what Chubby's place was called, but everybody evidently called it Chubby's. At least Kevin and Craig did. Chubby's was doing a pretty good business that night. Craig and Kevin had a fit seeing their friend A. J. I figured he was about Craig's age. They introduced all of us to A. J., and I could tell that guy would no more remember our names than fly. He knew who Grandpa was, but they had never met before. Kevin and Matt Smyth were there, too, and we hugged up like we were old friends. I really liked those boys, and I was glad they would be there in a couple of years when we moved to New Orleans for college. With Seth and his boyfriend, and those two, I felt like we already had a circle of friends in New Orleans. I knew we were lucky to have all of that, and a great place to live, too. It was going to drive me crazy to leave my parents, and Kevin and Rick, and Emerald Beach, and all my friends, but knowing all of them were there waiting for us would make it a lot easier. We got home very late, and we didn't really have any plans for the next morning. We all went right straight to bed, and I was asleep before my head hit the pillow. |