Page 78 of Ancient History

“Bud.” Even with my friends’ parents who insisted I call them by their first name, it was a knee jerk reaction.

Colorful, sugar-filled loops spilled forth from the box into my bowl, followed by milk. I hadn’t eaten Froot Loops since I was a kid. I kept my breakfasts quick and boring, usually eaten while driving to school.

“Thanks,” I said before digging in.

“I love this stuff. Much better than oatmeal.” He smiled as he shoved a spoonful into his mouth, as if he were auditioning for a commercial. I expected him to have his own catchphrase and everything.

“What do you do when you have to eat with Hutch?”

“I eat slowly until he gets up to leave. Then I toss that shit out.”

The super sweet goodness washes over my taste buds. “This is so good.”

“It hits the spot, right?”

Not unlike your son. I nearly choked on my loops.

“Easy there,” Bud said. “I don’t want to kill my son’s new boyfriend.”

“I’m not–we’re…”

He nodded as I stumbled through my answer. “I get it. Too soon.”

“You’re seriously cool with this?” I pointed between us then up to the stairs where his son slept buck naked after mindblowing sex. “You’re like those parents who let their kids host parties with alcohol.”

Bud got serious for a moment. He stared into his cereal. “It’s just the two of us here. His mother passed when he was young, and secrets in a two-person household don’t work. If you’re the person he’s spending time with, then I’m happy to meet you…I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

It took me a second to answer because I was caught up in a father being this loving to his gay son. I had to wonder if I was still asleep.

But I wasn’t, and he was waiting for my name.

“Amos.”

“Amos. Amos,” he said again, as it obviously rang some kind of bell for him. “From high school.”

How much had Hutch told him about me?

“Yeah, we work together at South Rock.”

“Not that. Before.”

He didn’t need to elaborate. Hutch had apparently taken advantage of an open father-son relationship. I felt my face go as red as the fruitiest of loops.

I nodded yes.

“He really liked you. I remember the summer after you two broke up, he was quiet, despondent. Couldn’t get him to say more than three words at a time. I thought it was because high school was over and he was nervous about college. But years later, once he shared your history with me, I got it.”

I fished my spoon through the milky, faded colors of cereal mush, memories of my own summer resurfacing.

“Looks like you two made amends.”

“We’re on our way,” I said, my throat thick, “He hurt me back then.”

“If it’s any consolation, he was hurting, too.” Bud’s charming demeanor soured into a grizzled glare before he uttered a name I hadn’t thought of since high school. “Fucking Seth Collins.”

“What about Seth? They were both on the soccer team, right?”

“Yeah, and if Hutch had any sense, he would’ve kicked a ball right into his face. He was the one who made Hutch break up with you.”

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