“I’m in thegroup?” Riley asked, eyes wide on their face.
It was remarkable what a difference two years could make. Oscar had only just turned twenty-one a couple of weeks earlier, but when he glanced at Riley, he saw a kid, someone he desperately wanted to shelter, someone who had desperately needed that at a far more tender age, who had found it in a person Oscar had come to respect.
“They look older than me,” Lina said. “Which meansI’mthe baby.”
“Well, yeah, but the group hasn’t voted you in yet,” Oscar said, sticking his tongue out at his sister, who narrowed her eyes at him.
“What about me?” Grandma asked.
“You’re an honorary member, Grandma,” Oscar said.
“Is that so?” Grandma asked, bright pink lips twisting to the side on a face that had aged beautifully.
“It’s the purple hair,” Tobe said, walking around the couch. “Hello, Oscar’s Grandma. I’m Tobe.”
“Oscar’s Grandma…” She tutted, shaking her head. “Just call me Grandma Peters. And it’s lovely to meet you, Tobe. You have beautiful hair, too.”
Tobe lit up brighter than the small, ugly Christmas tree Oscar and Aaron had set up in the corner, an old monstrosity of tinsel they’d picked up at the charity shop. Oscar loved it. He loved that he had a Christmas tree now, that they’d picked it together.
Across the ceiling were streamers Aaron had twisted and hung. Oscar had held the ladder they’d borrowed from the building closet on the bottom floor. Halfway through, while Aaron was coming down so Oscar could move the ladder, he’d paused on a rung near the bottom and leaned back to sit. Oscar had kissed him. For a while after, there’d been no more decorating. The streamer hung suspended from the ceiling, trailing down the wall where Aaron had fixed the first mounting point, and Oscar hung suspended in the throes of pleasure, Aaron’s mouth on him as they lay on their couch, Oscar’s head lolling over the arm while he asked him to keep going, to change nothing, toyes yes yes.
“Peters? Your name is Peters?” Riley glanced from Oscar to Lina to Grandma, landing on Oscar again at last. “LikeEvan?”
“Who’s Evan?” Joe shouted from behind the couch. He looked at Oscar’s grandma and sister. “Sorry about that. I’m Joe, Riley’s big brother.”
“And they mean Evan Peters. Seriously, do you live under a rock, Joey?” Tobe said, tutting.
“How am I supposed to know whothatis?” Joe asked, throwing his hands up.
“Babe, he was inAmerican Horror Story,” Anna explained, rubbing his arm, a pretty smile on her face. “And the X-men prequels?”
“He’s the sexy one who did the Dahmer show,” Grandma supplied.
Tobe sputtered out a laugh that earned them a groan from Marta, whose arm was now splattered with their spit. Aaron laughed, too, the first sound he’d made since Oscar’s family had arrived, and it was at this point that Oscar’s grandma went entirely warm, her eyes lighting up as they found him across the room, smile spreading on her face.
“You’re the one who’s making my grandson happy, aren’t you?” she said.
Aaron walked through the gap between Tobe and Marta and held out his hand for a shake, but Grandma bypassed the formalities and wrapped her arms around him.
“Welcome to the family, Aaron.”
“Oh.” Aaron sounded choked, but maybe not as strangled as Oscar felt to be watching this woman who had loved him his entire life, who had reared Papa with soft kindness and her strong sense of justice, now welcoming his boyfriend with open arms. “Thank you, G-Grandma P?—”
“Just Grandma toyou,” she said, pulling away and finding his eyes. They stood at exactly the same height. “And Mrs. Peters to whoever here doesn’t knowEvan Peters.”
She cast a mischievous sidelong glance Joe’s way, earning one of his throaty laughs that reminded Oscar of that first morning they’d spent together and how little he’d known him, all the wrong assumptions he’d made.
“And well, we’ve met,” Lina said, offering Aaron a smile.
Right. Lina had brought him home from the bar that night so many weeks before. Aaron had been here when she and the stranger had carried him in. They must have talked.
“Okay, well, the potatoes will burn, so I need to go check on those,” Oscar announced. He turned, leaving the rest of them to introduce themselves, and headed into the kitchen.
As long as it had taken them to make the meal, the food was gone an hour later. There was still a good chunk of ham left over, and half the veggie lasagna remained, but they’d obliterated the cheeses and salamis, the potatoes and Riley’s salad, and they’d used up all of Marta’s pretty napkins.
Oscar rested against the bench, leaning in to rest his head on Aaron’s shoulder while Grandma told them the story about that time Oscar had tried to dye Lina’s hair green with food coloring.
“That was a fun month at school,” Lina said.
