Author: Alexa Land
Category: LGBT
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When he straightened up and stepped back, Mrs. Dombruso stared at Christopher and me and demanded, “Well?”
It took me a moment to realize what she wanted, and then I too stepped forward and kissed her, followed by Christopher. She smiled happily at that. “Such good boys. All three of you. You know how to treat your old Nana.” Then she said, “So, Charlie, I don’t know what traditions your family had as Irish Americans. I told the cooks to be prepared to make you anything you normally have for Thanksgiving once you arrived.”
“I don’t need anything special, Mrs. Dombruso. This all looks wonderful.” Thanksgiving had always meant my parents and me and Uncle Al and his family, gathered around a dry turkey and jellied cranberry sauce in the shape of a can. I felt a pang of sadness at the thought of my family, and wondered what my father was doing today. I hoped he’d gone to his brother Al’s house, and wasn’t spending the day alone.
She sighed and knit her brows. “I thought I told you to call me Nana.” She shot Christopher a look. “You too, kiddo. I don’t want any of that Mrs. Dombruso crap around here. Got it?”
“Yes ma’am,” we both said in unison.
“And as for you, Christopher Robin,” she’d latched on to his full name when I’d called him that in front of her once, and now went out of her way to use it, “I don’t know what your heritage is, what traditions you’re used to.”
He was a little thrown by the question. “I have no Thanksgiving traditions to speak of, aside from watchin’ football.” He and I had set the DVR to record every game that was happening today, and we had a big football marathon planned when we got home.
She thought of something then, and said, “Christopher Robin, come talk to me for a moment.” And she took his hand and rolled off to a quiet corner of the kitchen, where he leaned close to talk to her.
Dante took the opportunity to pull me into his arms. “How bad is it so far?” he whispered against my ear.
“Not bad at all,” I told him, sliding my hands under his unbuttoned suit jacket and holding him to me. He felt warm and strong and solid in my arms.
“What the fuck, Dante?” a woman’s voice behind us exclaimed. “Did you think you two had to hide in the kitchen? That your family’s a bunch of fucking homophobic assholes and we’re all going to keel the fuck over if we see you and your lover hugging?”
He laughed at that, and turned to the big haired busty redhead that had just come into the kitchen. “Hardly. We were summoned by Nana. Charlie, this is my foul-mouthed cousin Melody. Melody, Charlie.”
“Foul-mouthed? Fuck you, Dante,” she said. She winked at me and took my hand. “Hiya Charlie. Welcome to the family. I apologize in advance for every crude, vulgar, politically incorrect, or flat-out insulting thing you hear over the course of this evening. Not from me, mind you, but from everyone else. I’m the well-behaved one of the bunch.” She smiled at me cheerfully, then snatched a couple olives out of a glass dish and told me, “Hurry up and get your ass out there. Everyone’s dying to meet you.” And then she disappeared through the kitchen door.
“What did I get myself into?” I asked with a grin as I took Dante in my arms again.
Christopher came up to us, pulling open a packet of his orange colored crackers. “Nana totally gets it,” he said with a pleased little smile. “She noticed my food thing and promised not to try to fix me. At least, not today.” He popped a cracker in his mouth.
Dinner was loud and raucous and absolutely hilarious. The more everyone drank, the louder and funnier it got. There were at least fifty family members seated at several long tables in what at one time had been a formal ballroom. Dante was the undisputed leader of this clan (well, after his grandmother), and his family obviously loved and respected him – but still felt free to tease him mercilessly at every opportunity.
Christopher and I were both accepted as part of the family without hesitation, which pretty much blew me away. This was so wildly, refreshingly different from my own family. And thank God for that. Christopher remained quiet throughout the meal, but he was smiling and watching the proceedings with a sparkle in his blue eyes, just taking it all in. We sat side-by-side, so close our arms were touching. And at one point he leaned over and whispered in my ear, “I’m having the best time. Thank you for inviting me.”
“Thank you for saying yes,” I whispered back.
Later on things quieted down a bit, everyone lulled by the mountains of rich food. The adults retired to the living room, and the kids were rounded up by the teenagers and taken to watch cartoons in the in-house theater.
I was happy and relaxed, holding Dante’s hand, Christopher at my side. And then Dante cleared his throat and stood up, saying, “Could I have everyone’s attention, please?”
All eyes were on him as he grinned at me and cleared his throat again. He was nervous about something. And Nana exclaimed, “Oh shit, you’re doing this now?” She shoved her glasses onto her face, grabbed a little camcorder that was on the seat beside her, and pushed the on button, pointing the camera at us. “Ok, go ahead.”
Dante laughed at that. And then he got down on one knee and took my hand. “Angel, I love you more than anything. I love you more than I ever knew it was possible to love someone. You’re my life, you’re everything to me.” He paused, his dark eyes locked with mine. And then he said softly, “Charlie Connolly, will you do me the honor of being my husband?”
I gasped and stammered, “Yes. God yes! Of course.”
Honestly, I have no idea what his family’s reaction was. They could have cheered, they could have gasped and fainted, I really don’t know. Because all my attention was on the beautiful man before me. Dante grabbed me in a hug and whispered, “Thank you, angel. You’ve made me so incredibly happy.” And then he kissed me, deeply, passionately, right in front of everyone.
When Dante finally released me, Christopher grabbed me in a hug. “Congratulations, Charlie,” he said, and kissed my cheek. I was dragged to my feet then and passed around in an onslaught of hugs and kisses and back-slaps. Nana finally caught my hand and pulled me down into a big hug, and said, “You were already a part of the family, Charlie. This just makes it official.” She kept hold of my hand as she turned to Dante and said, “So, is a gay homosexual wedding the same as a straight one? Is one of you wearing white? Do we do a bridal shower, or is that insulting? I’ll call tomorrow and reserve the Mark Hopkins for New Year’s Eve. That’s a nice time for a wedding, don’t you think?”
“That’s in just a few weeks, Nana,” Dante said, coming up to us and slipping his arm around my waist. “We need more time to plan.”
“Like hell you do. What do you want, to wait until I’m dead and then get married? Fuck that. You can get married on New Year’s. I’ll take care of everything, and it’ll be perfectly romantic, you’ll see.” She craned her neck and called, “Christopher Robin, where are you? Come here, son.”
He wove his way through the crowd, and she took his hand. “So this little cupcake is going to be, what, the best man? Is there still a best man in a gay wedding? Well, sure, why wouldn’t there be?” she said, answering her own question. “And of course that’s you.”
“I…I really don’t know,” Christopher said.
“Oh that’s definitely you,” I told him with a big smile. “Though I guess I should ask you officially. Christopher Robin, will you be my best man?”
He grinned shyly and said, “Sure. Thanks for asking me.”
And then Nana barreled ahead with, “So, Christopher Robin, I’m going to need your help. I need your artistic eye with this whole event, to make sure it’s perfect for my favorite grandson.” She caught Mikey’s eye and yelled, “That’s right, he’s my favorite! So what? You’re my second favorite. Deal with it!”
A couple hours later, Dante took my hand and pulled me into a second floor bedroom, then pinned me to the wall and kissed me. “Hi,” he said with a grin when we finally came up for air.
“Hi.” I beamed at him.
“We’re getting married,” he murmured, resting his forehead against mine.
“Mmhmm. Really soon apparently.”
“I can try to talk Nana out of New Year’s if you want. I know that gives us very little time to plan.”
“No, let her have her fun. I can’t wait to be your husband, so the sooner the better as far as I’m concerned.”
He kissed me again before asking, “Did you totally hate the fact that I asked you to marry me in front of my whole family? I know PDA isn’t your favorite thing, and maybe I shouldn’t have—”
I cut him off with a kiss and said, “It was wonderful. I can’t believe you went down on one knee and everything.”
He smiled at me. “I wanted to do it right. I’m only getting married once, after all, so no cutting corners.” He took my hand, led me to the little twin bed and pulled me onto his lap, and kissed me tenderly.
And then I asked him, looking around the little bedroom, “Where exactly have you brought me?”
“My room. I mean, the room I lived in as a kid. I moved in with Nana when I was seven, after….”
I cupped his cheek and nodded in understanding. And then I lightened the mood by saying, “So, you snuck your boyfriend into your bedroom under the nose of your grandmother. Shame on you.”
“My fiancé,” he corrected.
I smiled widely and said, “Yes. Your fiancé. We’d better say that a whole bunch in the next few weeks, because this is going to be one short engagement.”
“You know, while you were nursing me back to health, I promised to take you somewhere warm and tropical. Fiji, I think I said. Would you like to make that our honeymoon destination?”
“I’m fine with anything, just as long as it’s somewhere really, really private. I want to spend the entire honeymoon tied to our bed with your cock buried in my ass.”
He grinned and shook his head. “My insatiable little angel.” We’d had many intense, wonderful, mind-blowing encounters since that first one. Every time our roommate left the apartment, I dragged Dante to the bedroom or got dragged there in turn. The thought of a private location where we could be alone and fuck like bunnies made my cock hard.
Dante noticed this right away, and grinned wickedly. And then he set me on the mattress and dropped to his knees between my legs, and tugged down the zipper of my khakis. “Oh my God! Dante, what are you doing?” I asked as he pulled my boxer briefs out of the way. “Your entire family’s downstairs! We can’t!” I bit back a moan as his warm, wet mouth surrounded my cock. He sucked me urgently, his dark eyes locked with mine. I pressed a hand to my mouth to stop myself from crying out as I came violently minutes later, reflexively thrusting up off the bed as he swallowed my load.
Once he’d sucked me dry, he slid his mouth off my cock and tucked me back in again and zipped me up. Then he took my hand and pulled me to my feet. “What was that?” I exclaimed with a grin.
Dante winked at me and slapped my ass. “Dessert.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“I know ya’all totally snuck off and had sex yesterday during Thanksgiving at Nana’s. And left me stuck chattin’ up Cousin Rachael. Who bah the way, is a total and complete cougah.” We were in our living room and Christopher’s hands were on his narrow hips, the big leather falconry gloves riding up to his elbows as he raised an eyebrow at me. “She tried to lure me into the pantry with her. Is that where ya’all were? Diddlin’ with the dry goods?” He and Dante were in the middle of one of their Peaches training sessions, and Christopher was so flustered by the dog that he forgot to hold his accent in check.
“No, of course not,” I said.
He dumped a gluten-free dog biscuit into his hand from the box on the table. “Peaches, sit,” he said, showing the dog the biscuit, and Peaches curled back his lips, displayed his underbite and let out a high-pitched growl. In response, Dante shot him with a squirt bottle, and Christopher exclaimed, “No, Peaches!”
“We were only gone a few minutes,” I told him, standing on the coffee table with my arms crossed over my chest, out of range in case Peaches finally went ballistic and tried to kill everyone.
“So just a blowjob then?” he asked, turning toward me again. I guess I looked guilty, because he rolled his eyes and said, “I knew it.” Peaches started to lunge at him when Christopher’s back was turned, so Dante squirted him again. The dog stopped his attack and shook himself.
“You two should give up on this,” I said. “Peaches is uncivilizable.”
“No way,” said Dante. “I’m finally getting to shoot that little shit.” He twirled the squirt bottle around his index finger and grinned at me, and I rolled my eyes.
Christopher rubbed his nose with the back of his gloved hand and said, “I think I am giving up for now. I can only take so many attempts on my life in one day. We’ll give it another go tomorrow.” He pulled the gloves off and tucked them under his arm.
“I need pie after that,” Dante said, handing the squirt bottle to Christopher. “Cover me.” He headed for the kitchen, where our refrigerator was crammed full of the leftovers that Nana had forced on us yesterday. The dog nipped at his heels and Christopher chased after them, yelling, “No, Peaches!” and squirting him the whole way.
Someone knocked on the door as I was jumping off the table. I crossed the room and swung the door open, and went full on deer-in-headlights.
“Charlie,” my father said by way of greeting, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot.
“What are you doing here?”
“I just, you know, thought I should bring you your mail.” He thrust a few envelopes at me, and I took them hesitantly. I saw at a glance they were all just junk mail. “Mind if I come in?”
I stepped back and let my father into my apartment, and he went and sank down awkwardly on the edge of the sofa. I perched on a chair on the other side of the coffee table, and studied him warily.
It looked like my father had aged twenty years in the past few weeks. His complexion was pale, dark circles under his eyes. He wore an old, beat-up coat that my mother used to complain about with a stained t-shirt underneath, and it looked like he hadn’t shaved in a week. Bachelorhood was most definitely not agreeing with Walter Connolly.
“So…some things were said,” he began, looking at his big hands, which were clutched on his lap. “I was angry. And confused. I didn’t know how to deal with…well, you know.”
“The fact that I’m gay.”
“Yeah. That.” He paused and scratched his cheek, not meeting my gaze. Then he said, “I know I messed up, Charlie. You’re my kid. I shouldn’t have kicked you out of the house. That was wrong. So I wanted to tell you that, if you wanna come back home, the door’s open to you.”
“No thank you,” I said quietly.
He looked up at me. “It won’t be like before. Your mother left me, I’m not sure if you knew that. And I’ve had a lot of time to think since she’s been gone. I’m not angry anymore, Charlie.”
“This is my home now.”
My father looked around, as if he’d failed to notice the apartment before. “Oh. Well, this is a real nice place. Used to be Jamie’s, right? I remember it. Only, it’s fancier now.” He was looking at the big TV when he said that. “Jamie don’t live here anymore, does he?”
“No, he and his husband live in the Richmond now, by their place of business.” I’d said that for shock value, just to see how my dad would take it.
And he did pretty well. He knit his brows together, and really tried to take it in stride as he said, “Oh. So Jamie’s….”
“Also gay. He was my boyfriend for years.” I was pushing him, I knew that. I wanted to goad a reaction out of him. I didn’t trust this kinder, gentler Walter. I wanted him to expose himself for the homophobe that he was.
But all my father said was, “Oh. I never knew that.” He blinked repeatedly as he tried to process that information.
“Well no, of course not. I could never tell you, because I knew how you
’d react if you ever found out I was gay.” I knit my brows and said, “Turns out, I was exactly right.”
“I’m sorry I reacted the way I did.” It was the first time I’d ever heard him apologize to anyone for any reason. “I messed up. It really caught me off guard. I know I reacted badly, and I want to make amends.”
“I think it’s too late for that.”
He wasn’t done trying, though. And I realized all of a sudden that our entire relationship had shifted. I didn’t need him anymore. But he needed me. He was a mess, probably really lonely since my mother left him. That was really why he was here.
It was a weird concept, the idea of my father actually needing me.
And he said, “Charlie, I don’t blame you for being angry. I was an asshole. The worst kind of father, one who turns on his own kid.”
“Pretty much,” I muttered.
“C’mon. Give your old dad another chance. What do you say?”
I had lived my whole life trying to please my father. I had always felt that his love was something that needed to be earned, not something given unconditionally. All I’d ever wanted was for him to love me and be proud of me. It was why I pushed myself to excel in football – his favorite sport. It was why I’d tried hard in school. It was why I went to work for my uncle and his god-awful exterminator business. It was a big part of the reason why I’d tried to deny my sexuality, why I stayed in the closet so long, why I’d tried to make myself marry Callie.
And then the thing I’d always feared so much actually happened. I lost my father’s love and got kicked out of my home. And I not only survived it, I ended up thriving. It turned out I was so much stronger than I ever realized.
I studied the man before me carefully. I’d always been afraid of my father. He used to tower over me, he seemed big as a house when I was little. And when he yelled, it used to fill me with terror. I guess some part of me had continued to see him that way right into adulthood, as this huge, scary thing. But when I looked at him now, really looked at him, he was just an old man in worn out clothes that looked like he needed a long nap and a good meal. Despite myself, I felt sorry for him.