Page 23 of The Men of Summer
CHAPTER 14
GOOD OLD DAYS
Dante
2 years later
Ipush open the front door, both hands laden with shopping bags, and step inside. The house’s warmth is a welcome contrast to the outside temperature. Granted, it’s California, but my Dominican heritage favors hot weather. I stop in my tracks, unsure whether to make my presence known.
A Pearl Jam song and animated voices spill from the living room, and I let my mind drift to the sound of Eddie Vedder’s voice. Gael’s deep timbre has often been compared to Vedder, while fans later claimed that mine is reminiscent of Chris Cornell’s unplugged album,Songbook. Jeremy listens to their albums on repeat, especially since I disclosed that his mom was a huge fan and one of their songs inspired his name. We both love this song, but I can’t deny that it is a disturbing one to be named after, not that I would ever tell him that.
What I never told him either is that my former best friend and her former fling, Luke Haywood, sparked her obsession when he invited her to see them in concert, and I suspect theymade Jeremy around that time. They didn’t last for too long. She never admitted to anything. He never broached the topic of her pregnancy. Some things are better left unsaid…
The house smells like burnt marshmallows. I bet the three amigos—Jeremy’s trio—failed at making s’mores yet again.
Ah, kids!
Well, they’re not kids anymore, I scold myself, a grin tugging at my lips.
Considering that Dixie didn’t sprint my way as soon as I stepped through the door and there’s no sign of Zayn, I’m guessing that he took her for one of their routine long walks. They help him to clear his mind and let the characters of his future bestseller stew, and she loves to chase squirrels and bark at bigger dogs. She’s lucky we don’t get snow out here; she made her distaste pretty clear when we visited my mom in Oregon last winter.
And yet, it actually snowed when we arrived. If I had faith in anything other than the people surrounding me, I’d say that God was sending a hello from my late father. That can’t be accurate, though; his stubborn ass refused to “forgive me,” as he so graciously told my mom. He died of a heart attack while driving home from a football game two years ago, around the time that Zayn and I were driving back from our magical stay in Tahoe. Thankfully, he didn’t cause an accident and was alone in the car. Yet, my long-distance relationship with her strengthened after he passed away. I do my best to exhibit nothing but respect for my father while in her presence, even if he never came around to my life choices. He was the love of her life, I get that.
So now, on top of our annual Christmas trips, we text daily and make time for video chats, and, naturally, we see her in August. Nearing fifty, I haven’t performed at the Seaside Music Festival in years, but I’m always in the audience, on the lookout for new talent and cheering on Rupert Smith, who also made thisevent a constant in his career. This year will be a little different. My mom and Aunt Rita are en route and will spend Christmas here, and the last week of the year will be spent in Paris with my man and son. A first, to celebrate my birthday.
The intensity of the conversation filtering from the living room catapults me back to the present. I peek around the corner, far enough from the threshold so that if I get caught, I can claim that I was minding my own business, putting things away in the closet under the staircase.
Jeremy’s sitting on the ottoman with his back to me, and the other two are sprawled on the couch. I can see a sliver of Jeremy’s face from my angle. Open bags of snacks, small plates, and a couple of beer bottles are scattered on the coffee table, along with Liam’s feet. They’re resting on its edge, tapping the glass at regular intervals with the rhythm of the song. To my relief, he has socks on. Socks withSouth Parkcharacters on them. Twenty-somethings are still kids then! I can’t argue that the kid has good taste.
“We get it, man! You’re not picky… Spit it out! Have you fucked the whole Berkeley student body yet?” Liam bursts out laughing at his own question.
Careful not to make too much noise, I set the bags down and edge closer, shamelessly eavesdropping since my curiosity is piqued. Who am I to judge? I, too, had my fair share of lovers before my second chance with Zayn.
“Give him a break.” Emily slaps her friend’s bicep. “He just told you he’s experimenting. That’s what college is for, isn’t it?”
Liam glares at her. “Ohhh, is that what they teach you in your finance classes? Last time I drove from Philly to Boston, there wasn’t a line of guys waiting to get into your pants.”
“Who says I’m not intogirls, asshat?” Liam’s jaw drops as his cheeks redden. “And, I’ll have you know that I’m a size double zero, so squeezing into my pants is always a challenge… But Imeant every word I said, and what applies to youguys,” she stresses the word, “also applies tome: good grades and good sex aren’t mutually exclusive.” She snags a beer and takes a swig. “I love sex as much as Jeremy here. As long as the other person is on board, I’m game.” She high-fives Jeremy, who snickers at Liam.
That’s what I get for spying on them: TMI!
“So you two really don’t care whether you fuck a boy or a girl? No preference?”
It’s my turn to gawk.Is Jeremy bi? How did I miss that?
Rubbing the back of my neck, I can’t wrap my head around the fact that he never confided in us about this… Well, maybe not inme. I inwardly berate myself. This isn’t a competition. Elsie initially selected me to be Jeremy’s legal guardian, but he’s always been closer to Zayn. I’m proud of the bond they have. Jealousy has no part in this.
And why would I assume that Jeremyhas tobe okay discussing this with us? My rational brain computes that our same-sex partnership doesn’t necessarily translate into kids being more at ease with such topics, although he felt comfortable enough to approach us about love and attraction at seven.
“You missed a few options, Liam.Hellllooo,” she gestures frantically, “I identify as pan?”
“Right… Guess I haven’t been keeping track.”
“Or rather, you were more interested in Jeremy’s record-breaking exploits because, as a guy living in a patriarchal world, you glorify his manwhore behavior but would probably shame a woman and call her a slut in the same situation.” She pauses, letting her friends process the double standard. The clever girl does have a point, and it’s unfortunate. “Why should I be ashamed of fucking whoever I’m attracted to?”
Liam apologizes, and they bolt out of their seats for a group hug, singing along with Pearl Jam before resuming theirposition. They’re so deep into their conversation that nobody’s noticed me yet.
Jeremy clarifies in an even voice, “Yeah, sex is fun, but I’m not like you, Em’… I’m not looking for the four-letter word. I prefer experimenting… If you want to slap a label on it, call me bi-curious or allergic to commitment.” He wets his thumb, uses it to collect crumbs from his plate, and sucks on it. “College is hard. Blowing off some steam with a willing hookup helps with my concentration. End of story… You should try it sometime, man. Also, in case you missed the memo, sex isn’t always about fucking, as you so nicely put it.”
