“Perfect.” Even if it wasn’t, I’d still say yes to him. Thisis his celebration; he should get to watch whatever makes him happy. Frank hits play, and we both sit back in our seats and dig into our ice cream as the opening credits roll.
The first few bites I take are hesitant. I’m a bit old-fashioned, and I don’t think I’ve ever had anything but regular ice cream. Maybe frozen yogurt, back when it was popular a decade ago, but nothing since. I’ve seen plenty of substitutes on the shelf over the years, even seen people order them a time or two. I’m expecting… well, I’m not sure what I’m expecting, but it’s not this. These are shockingly good. If I didn’t know for a fact that it’s not the real thing, I’m not sure I’d even notice. Yes, it has a slight coconut flavor, but it blends well with the rest of the flavors. Even the whipped cream seems normal after my first couple of bites.
If Frank’s surprised, he doesn’t let on. Instead, he continues to shovel spoonful after spoonful into his mouth. “Slow down. Don’t make yourself sick.” I can’t help myself. This is where my friends would roll their eyes and make a joke about meDaddyingthem.
Frank looks at me sheepishly, slowing his pace a bit.
A few minutes later, he sets his near-empty bowl down on the coffee table. I’m surprised how much he got through. I’m still not convinced he won’t hurt later. I finish off the last few bites of mine, still wondering how someone managed to make vegan food taste so good. I swear, it wasn’t this palatable the last time I tried it. Either times have changed or I have.
I’m not sure which option I prefer.
We both sit back and watch the movie. If I happen to spend a little more time watching Frank than the action, well, no one could blame me for that.
Chapter Twelve
FRANK
I’ve never beensomeone who loved the holidays. Not that I’m complaining about getting a few days off work and school for Thanksgiving. I can use the break. It’s the appeal of the holiday, in general, that escapes me. And maybe if I wanted the extra time with my family things would be better, but as it stands, I’d rather be pouring concrete on a one-hundred-degree day in July. Which is saying something because I hate the heat.
Having my brother and his wife here for Thanksgiving isn’t helping. My brother is enough of a pain on his own. Ethan never shuts up about how wonderful his life is. The perfect job. The perfect house. Add his wife, Criselle, into the mix, and I get nauseous every time I walk into the living room. If my family knew I was taking classes, maybe I could slip away to do homework. Without that as an excuse, hiding in my bedroom is purely antisocial behavior. I’m not a great son, but I’m not that bad.Yet.
So, here I am, sitting in the living room, surrounded bymy family, and the only thing I feel is lonely. I can’t help but wonder what Matthias is doing today. I meant to ask, but I worried he’d think I was trying to weasel my way into his celebration.
“Frank, how’s the job hunt going?”
Leave it to Ethan to bring that up today. Can I get one day where people aren’t pushing me into something else? Especially a day dedicated to eating. One of the few where most of the items are on my list of things I can eat. Turkey is perfect. I can eat poultry since it’s not a mammal, plus almost all the vegetable dishes. Everything except the green bean casserole, which I never liked anyway. It’s the perfect meal for my issues, so I want to eat to my heart’s content and then fall into a food coma. Is that so much to ask?
“Going well.” Which is true by my standards. I’m not looking for anything because I’m exactly where I want to be. Not permanently, but for now. I’m hoping that the semester ends well, and I can use that as proof that I’m back in school, earning good grades, and should continue down this path. It’s not a great plan, but it’s mine.
“Really? Any interviews?” my mother asks, leaning forward with an expectant look.
“Not yet.” Probably because I haven’t sent out any applications. Being part of Sam’s crew is perfect for me. The hours are manageable, I’m finally feeling confident in my abilities, and the pay’s not bad. If I didn’t have tuition expenses and my medical bills to pay off, it’d be more than enough for me to live on. Alone. In my own apartment.
“Well, it’s tough to get your foot in the door right now. That’s why it’s helpful to know someone.”
My brother would know. He only got his job because his friend’s father is a vice president at the company. Otherwise, he’d be in my shoes. Though at least he graduatedfrom college. It’d help if he wasn’t so perfect all the time. Sometimes, I wish he’d mess up just once. I know, it makes me a terrible person to wish for stuff like that. Don’t worry, my spot in hell has been reserved for a long time.
“I know. That’s why I’m trying to network as much as possible.” Does hanging out in my client’s house count? He’s successful. If I asked, I’m sure he’d help me think about a career path or find a job somewhere. I don’t want to ask, though. He’s done so much more for me than he should. Only a little while ago, he was leaving out water bottles for me so I didn’t get dehydrated. He still does that, but now he does so much more. I’m already in debt to him, things I’ll never be able to pay back. I don’t want to have to owe people my entire life. I want to stand on my own two feet for once. Have my own home—even if it’s rented—and pay my own way. It seems like such a small dream compared to people around me, but it’s important to me. And still so far out of reach.
“How? I’m not sure you’re meeting the right people atthoseclubs you go to.”
I can hear the emphasis onthose. I came out to my family a long time ago, though it took me a while to figure out I was pansexual. It’s not like you can take one of thoseBuzzfeedquizzes and get an answer to your sexuality.
Those clubs are the various queer ones I tend to frequent. Or used to. I haven’t been to one in over a year. Maybe longer. Not the wild twenties I dreamed of back in high school. I used to go to them on the nights they were eighteen and up, getting the bright yellow wristband that saidUNDER 21to keep me away from the bar. I always imagined what it would be like when I could take advantage of everything they had to offer. I guess that’s one dream that will never cometrue.
“I don’t go to the clubs that often,” I mumble. “I meet a lot of people through Sam’s company. They’re good contacts.”
Although apparently, I wasn’t at the right club to meet Matthias. Or at least there on the right night. After overhearing his conversation with Sam, I couldn’t help but do a little research.
Fine, a lot of research. I could write a ten-page essay on the topic in a few short hours, though I suspect Cardinal Falls Community College doesn’t offer any classes on kink. Of course, I was aware of Daddy-boy relationships before; I don’t live under a rock or anything. Even known a few people in one. It never occurred to me to be interested in it for myself. Now that I’ve thought about it, a lot, my curiosity is piqued. I’m not sure if that’s more about the lifestyle or the person.
“They let you talk to the clients?” My sister-in-law says it as though I’m some sort of monster that should be kept away from the people.
“It’s hard to know what people want if you don’t talk to them.” That’s probably pushing the truth unless we count Matthias.
“Tone.” My mother warns. It’s like I’m thirteen all over again. “Dinner should be ready in twenty minutes. Why don’t you go wash up?”
I’m thankful for the break in conversation. It gives me a few minutes to retire to the basement, wash my hands, and compose myself. I know better than to let my brother and his wife get under my skin. He’s done it my whole life, and my family always sides with him. It’s been that way for as long as I can remember. Hard to imagine it ever changing. Especially when I’m the one living at home and barely managing to get by.
