Page 40 of Hidden Plays
“Who’s that?” He rubbed a towel through his damp hair.
“My mom. She wants to have a family dinner tomorrow night.” I gnawed my lower lip. Maybe she just wanted to see me.
“Oh, sounds fun.” Leaning in, he whispered. “When can we get together?” His brows rose.
I thought through my schedule. With a shrug, I said, “Wednesday?”
“Okay.” A wide smile swept his lips. “Looking forward to it, Harry.” He ticked his brows.
With a tsk, I grabbed my backpack and shook my head. The Harry Cox thing had to stop.
I droveto the curb in front of my parents’ conservative, single-story ranch-style home, the place where I’d grown up. As I shut off the car and stepped out, I scanned the driveway. Noel’s car wasn’t here. She would have invited my brother, wouldn’t she?
The bushes under the front windows were freshly trimmed, and there wasn’t a weed in sight in the clay-colored landscaping rocks. Dad must have spent the weekend gardening. As I walked along the driveway and over the path to the front door with a small, covered porch, I stuffed my hands in the pockets of my jeans.
The door opened, and Dad stood there, a thin-lipped smile on his face, his black glasses hanging off the end of his nose. His polo shirt hid most of his belly, and he wore jeans for once. “Hey, Holden. Come on in. Your mother’s busy cooking.”
“Sure.” As I stepped inside, Dad patted my back, and the aroma of tomato sauce, cheese and garlic filled my nose. “Smells good.” I stepped further into the main room. A new dark-wood coffee table complemented the old leather couch and chair from my childhood. “You got some new furniture?”
He followed me toward the kitchen. “I let your mother pick a few things. It’s not like we needed anything new, but?—”
“I know, Dad. Happy wife, happy life.” I chuckled. Mom didn’t make the money Dad did. So, in his way of thinking, he let her buy things with his money. I wouldn’t be like him when I got married. It would beourmoney.
Mom, dressed in yoga pants and a flowing black top, opened the oven door. “Hi, Holden.” She inspected the lasagna. “We still have a few minutes left.” She blew a blonde bang off her forehead, the rest of her long hair pulling into a ponytail.
“Okay.” Where Dad was more standoffish, Mom always required a hug. I stepped to her and gave her a side hug. “Where’s Noel? Did you invite him?” Maybe she figured it wasn’t worth the trouble.
“I did, but you know how he is. He’ll probably be late.” She turned to the kitchen island, still with the same speckled beige counter the house had always had, and tossed dressing into the salad in a large bowl. “You can sit down. I’m not waiting for him.”
“Okay.” They had set the farmhouse table with plates, silverware, and glasses. A pitcher of water rested at the center.
Dad sat at the table’s head. “Go on, sit down.” He gestured to the chair next to him.
Dropping into the offered chair, I poured water into my glass. My parents weren’t big on drinking, which always made me wonder how my brother had become such a heavy drinker.
Mom brought the salad to the table, followed by the dish of lasagna. After setting the dish on a pair of hot pads, we all dug in.
I plated a square of lasagna and a mound of salad. “Looks good, Mom.” When would they discuss what this dinner was about? There had to be a reason for it.
Dad ate a bite of lasagna in silence.
“How is school, Holden?” Mom sipped some water and then scooped salad onto a fork.
“Good.”I’m entering a relationship with a gay man…What would they think about it?I stuffed lasagna into my mouth, the garlic and beef mixing with the creamy cheese. I had to get her recipe at some point.
“Anything new happen with the team?” She glanced at me as she ate her lasagna.
“Not really. We won last weekend at UCLA. The player I’m training, JJ, is better after doing the routine I worked up for him.” I pursed my lips. I couldn’t stop talking about JJ. He was always on my mind in some fashion.
“Oh?” A smirk played on her lips. “So, I guess you don’t hate him as much anymore?”
“No, I don’t. We’re cool.” Warmth flowed through my veins. In fact, I really liked JJ now, but I wasn’t ready to spill my truth. I hadn’t even told my roommate. I glanced at Dad. Had he given Noel the money yet? He certainly was quiet.
Mom peered at the stove. “I wonder when Noel will show up?” She studied Dad, her brows furrowing. “You didn’t give him the money yet, did you?”
Dad stopped eating, setting his fork on his plate. “I did.” He lifted his gaze to her. “I suppose that’s why he’s not here. Maybe he’s not coming.”
“Oh, Keith, he’s probably out spending it on booze right now.” She scoffed and drank some water. “Thank God we have one son who’s responsible.”
