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“Ezra,” Carl says in warning.
“She would,” he says.
His arm is still around my back, so tight it almost hurts. I look up at him, and I’m surprised—based on the tenor and tone of his voice—to find his face looks bleached out.
“Sit down,” Carl says softly.
I feel Ezra’s breathing pick up. “It’s not Josh’s fault,” he says, sounding breathless. “If someone has to go, it can be me.”
He drops his chin down to his chest, gritting his teeth as he inhales through his nose. His arm rubs a light circle over my back before letting me go. And then he’s striding, nearly sprinting, from the kitchen. I run after him as Carl calls behind us. But Ezra’s fast. By the time I reach his bedroom door, it’s locked.
“Ezra!” I’m still knocking when I see him shoot out my door, fully clothed and heading down the stairs. I guess he’s jetting down and he runs into Carl. I hear Carl’s booming “Whoa,” and then I hear my mom say something. The front door slams.
Ezra’s out the door and I’m not dressed, but I just know—like, deep down in my fucking bones, I’d bet the world—that if I let him go, it won’t be good. So I race out the door in just my briefs and dive off of the porch, catching him only because when he sees me in my undies, he freezes.
When I get my arms around him and we sink down to the grass, his whole body does this weird, hard shudder. He breathes heavy for a second, but then he looks down at me with his damp, dazed-looking eyes and he says, “You okay?”
He hugs me hard, his spread hands rubbing my ribs. When he pulls back so he can see my face, he says, “You want me to go?” His voice goes hoarse, and his eyes are welling up, but he adds, “I’ll say it’s my fault. That I…seduced you.” He huffs a laugh at that, but his hand goes over his eyes and I can feel his shoulders give a little quiver.
“It’s okay if you want me to,” he says, his voice going hoarse, even as he moves his hand down off his eyes, and they look earnest.
I cup his cheek. “Fuck no.” I grab his arm, pointing to what I drew. “You see that shit? If someone goes, it can be both of us. We’ll live…I don’t know where. Anywhere. In the forest. Together. Tarzan-style shit here.”
His voice breaks again as he says, “I don’t want to mess up your life.”
“Ezra. You could never, ever mess up my life. Ever.”
My eyes are holding his, and I’m so wrapped up in the moment that I don’t see Carl on the porch till he says, “Boys.” I look up to find him moving slow as always, holding a blanket. “Josh, you’re exposin’ yourself,” he drawls. Ezra looks over his shoulder—I can tell he’s worried—as Carl kneels down and wraps the blanket around me…and around Ezra, too. He clasps a hand over Ezra’s shoulders and wraps his arms around both of us.
I feel Ez breathing. His face is pressed to my neck.
“C’mon now,” Carl says softly. “Let’s go in and grab some food and maybe have a beer and hell, prepare for grandkids. You boys seem like you’re moving way ahead of what we thought. Not quite the same direction.” He laughs. He hugs both of us, and when he lifts his head, he looks…amused?
He laughs, and I realize that this must be the shock of his life.
“C’mon, son.” He ruffles Ezra’s hair, and then says, “I’ll give y’all a minute. Cover up what God gave ya,” he calls as he walks back toward the porch steps.
Five
Ezra
I’m awake a long time after Mills falls asleep, wrapped around me with his cheek against my shoulder. It’s so warm under his covers. He’s got the strobe light set to teal green, just a faint glow, like those blinking microbes in the ocean. My eyes shut and my mind drifts.
I can see Dad’s face—his eyes wide and his thin lips grinning—as we sit down at the table. I can still hear his voice as he says, “Well, who’s gonna give us a grandbaby?”
Suzanne’s jaw dropped, but then she laughed behind her hand.
Dad said, “Well, this is pretty awkward,” and then frowned and added, “Maybe it’s the pheromones. Like dad like son, eh?”
Mills looked like he wanted to sink through the floor. Suzanne laughed again, and that's what really broke the ice. Apparently my dad is sort of a comedic genius. Also, both of them are...well, not bigots.
Suzanne cried and told Miller she had figured for a while. When he asked why, she screwed her face up in a thoughtful look and said because he didn't look twice at some pretty girl babysitter she left him with when he was 13.
