Page 107 of Catching Kyle
“Oh, it’s beautiful,” Jimmy says, pouring more gravy onto his potatoes. “Everyone who’s got a cabin around the lake lights lanterns and spreads them across the water. And then there’s a little string quartet at that plays Christmas music on the community center dock.”
“If I had a boyfriend,” Silas says. “That’s where I’d take him.”
“Yeah,” Jimmy says somberly. “Me too.”
“Sorry, buddy,” Silas says, rubbing his hand.
“I’ll survive,” he says. “Glad to be here with you all.”
With the five of us, the conversation never seems to end. Ma will ask Michael something about his writing. Jimmy will get in on the conversation. And then Jimmy will talk about his aspirations, what recipes he’s experimenting with andwhere he wants to travel. Then Silas will break in and talk about all the places he’s been, and for someone only a few years younger than me, I’m impressed. Sure, it was born of running away from home, but it feels like Silas has lived more lives than one.
And this whole time, what makes me happier than anything, is that Michael is beaming. My boyfriend is beaming. And I’m grateful for it. I know he isn’t close with his family at all. I’m glad that we can be his family tonight. And hopefully for a lot longer.
“So I gotta ask,” Jimmy says, finishing off his beer and pointing the neck between us. “How did you two meet?”
I blush, and Michael laughs. “It’s actually a crazy story.” He glances at me. “Can I tell them?”
My arm resting on the back of his chair, my hand scratching his back, I smile and nod. I could listen to him talk about anything for any length of time, but this… I particularly want to hear him say it.
As he tells the story, he spares no detail. He gets them to laugh, to gasp. And that’s when I’m reminded what phenomenal storyteller this man is. He has them eating out of the palm of his hand.
“And now we’re here,” Michael says.
“Holy shit,” Jimmy says, looking at him, then me. “That’s awesome as hell.”
“Right?” Michael says.
My ma gasps. “All this good conversation and no dessert? What kinda host am I?” She pushes back her chair, but Silas stands up first.
“No,” Silas says, putting his hand out. “Ms. Higgins, you’ve done too much already. I’ll get the pies. You haven’t even finished your food.”
“But I—”
“No ‘buts’,” he says, wiping his face and setting down his napkin. “Let me have the honor of helping you miss. Please.”
She scooches her chair back in. “Fine, fine,” she says.
And I nearly drop my jaw and Silas makes his way to our fridge.
“I’m impressed,” I say. “No one getsmy ma to back down.”
“You need someone just as stubborn,” Silas says. “And I think I’m just her match.”
“Hush,” ma says, taking a sip of her eggnog.
Michael watches the whole thing with the widest grin on his face. God, I’m so happy that he’s happy here. My ma asks him a question about his writing, and then they get wrapped up in some conversation.
Jimmy taps me on the shoulder. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Sure,” I say, putting my napkin down. We walk into the family room and stand on the far side.
“How are you pulling this off?” he asks, gesturing between me and the kitchen. He’s asking about Michael. “You’re one of the most recognizable NFO players.”
“I have a fake girlfriend,” I say.
Jimmy widens his eyes. He just watches the games. He doesn’t know about the ‘me being single’ drama.
“Tigers management doesn’t know about Michael,” I say. “We’ve kept it a secret for this long.”
