Sex At A Funeral

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Funerals are for the living.

Numerous authors and poets have eloquently argued that the dead are merely the centerpiece and that burials and ceremonies give those left behind a space for grieving and reflection.

If those authors and poets had been from Roseview, New York, they would probably say that funerals were for the living: to show their asses and turn their lives upside down and inside out.

Located in affluent Suffolk County, Roseview was the picture of quaint, historic charm, but it was a hotbed of hypocrisy and gossip.

For Mason Cartwright, the passing of Stewart Sutton was his first adult experience with death and the first time he had an unfiltered, uncensored view of how grownups actually behaved when someone close to them died.

Prior to Stewart’s funeral, Mason had only lost his Grandpa Geoffrey and was seven-years-old at the time.

For him and the other children, the funeral and the days before and after had resembled a conclave and he had spent most of the week playing outside or sequestered to the basement when it rained.

Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, pizzas, and Capri-Suns were delivered to sustain them as they waited for the signal that it was over and time to go home.

Being twenty-five meant that Mason was too old to sneak off to the basement to play video games and drink Capri-Suns until life went back to normal.

His lifelong best friend was devastated by the loss of her father and it was Mason’s job to stick by her side and hold her up when she started to buckle.

They met in preschool and had been through everything together but Sarina had never looked more exhausted or lost as she was offered condolences and assurances that she could carry on her father’s legacy.

Secretly, Stewart Sutton’s legacy had always been an anchor around Sarina’s neck but aside from her brother, Skylar, Mason was the only other person she had ever confided in.

From an early age, Sarina had shown an interest in and an aptitude for medicine.

She had been passionate about cosmetic surgery and wanted to help underprivileged people with real challenges.

But her father had groomed her to take over the family practice his father had established in Roseview sixty years ago.

Over time, she’d come to accept that there had only ever been one path for her to take, due to her domineering father.

Respected and admired by all in Roseview except his wife, Stewart’s relationship with his children was deeply complicated.

To those who only knew him as Dr. Sutton, he was a distinguished pillar of the community.

But he was barely on speaking terms with his wife, Adele, and seemed to disapprove of damn near everything his son, Skyler, did for reasons Mason could never fathom.

Aside from the obvious.

Sarina’s relationship with her father was almost as stressful, despite finishing medical school a year earlier than her peers and dutifully returning home to fulfill her residency in Roseview.

She had done everything Stewart had asked and the town was thrilled that she would be taking over the family practice.

But that still didn’t seem to be enough and Mason couldn’t remember Stewart ever saying he was proud of his little girl.

“Your father can rest easier, knowing you’re here to carry on in his place,” Nana Grace told Sarina as she patted her hand.

There was no denying the Sutton genes, there.

Sarina had inherited her father’s and Nana’s willowy height, ash blonde hair, fair skin, and gray eyes, but hers were raw and her gaze was glassy.

She nodded, pale and distant, making Mason wonder how long it had been since she had slept and how many hours since her last hard sob.

“Thanks, Nana,” she murmured and offered her cheek while clutching a glass of wine.

It looked untouched and like it was getting flat so Mason snuck off to the kitchen for a glass of ice water.

“Here, trade me,” he whispered as he wound an arm around her for support.

“Thank you. Someone keeps handing me glasses of wine but I…” She pulled in a deep breath. “I just want to sleep for a week.”

“I know. I’m so, so sorry, Sina.” Mason kissed her temple, then shook his head at Tim Hegarty so he knew it wasn’t a good time. “You can leave whenever you want. I’ll tell them you need to rest and they’ll understand.”

“I know but Mom—”

“I can handle her too,” Mason interrupted. He did his best to avoid Adele but he’d risk a few scratches and a black eye to give Sarina time to rest and process her grief in peace. It helped that he had been drinking Sarina’s wine for her and was feeling buzzy and extra punchy.

“I’d still have to listen to her bitch about how I left her to handle this on her own.”

Mason snorted in Adele’s direction. She was currently by the fireplace, a martini in hand and dressed in a tight black dress with a plunging neckline.

Not a single sleek, black hair was out of place and her bright, blood-red lipstick practically glowed amidst all the somber faces.

“I don’t think she’d mind. Adele looks like she’s in her element. ”

“I think she’s been looking forward to this,” Sarina whispered, then groaned as she tipped her chin towards the sofa.

“Sky, on the other hand…” she said with a forlorn sigh.

“I wasn’t expecting him to be this upset but I think he was hoping that Dad would have a change of heart and say he was sorry. ”

Sky did look like an absolute wreck. Instead of his usual aloof and unrepentant attitude, Sky was crumpled in the corner of the sofa and was hugging a bottle of Merlot.

He was a few months shy of twenty-one but no one cared.

Mason had seen several people passing him drinks as they ruffled his jet black hair and patted his cheek.

“Your dad?” Mason asked, arching a skeptical brow.

“You don’t get it. You have a good dad who loves you the way you are,” she said and Mason felt a twinge of guilt. He had the best parents in the world but he would never be as brave as Sky and tell his father the truth.

“It has to hurt, wanting something your whole life and realizing you’ll never get it. I wish your dad had come to his senses before he died and fixed things with Sky.”

She shook her head, her eyes shining with fresh tears as she watched Sky take a long drink from the bottle.

“I don’t know if he’s ever been this drunk before.

I wish Dad could see what he’s done to him.

I never understood it but maybe he sensed that Sky was different and that he was gay way before Sky did.

It always broke my heart, the way Dad never seemed to like Sky, even when he was just a little boy. Nothing he did was ever right.”

“You did your best to make up for it.” Mason gave Sarina’s arm a squeeze and rubbed it soothingly. “He went everywhere with us until he was old enough to make his own friends but you still let him tag along.”

Sarina laughed softly. “We were all he had until high school and he got too smart and too cool for us.”

“Don’t tell Sky, but I’ve missed having him around.”

“I miss him too but college has done wonders. He’s really coming out of his shell.”

He certainly was.

Blossoming wasn’t the right word because Sky grew pricklier and more cynical about Roseview with each passing semester.

He had never really fit in because Sky had always been more than everyone else.

Mason couldn’t put it into words, how Sky’s brain operated on a vastly different wavelength than the other residents of Roseview.

They worried about the basic, inconsequential details of their lives and gossiped about their neighbors while Sky read everything he could get his hands on and railed about things like social inequality and the evils of capitalism.

He was always too much, too focused and fixated, and way over everyone’s head, and Mason was glad when Sky went to college and found more of his kind.

And he and Sarina were relieved when Sky ignored their mother’s protests and got himself evaluated, confirming that he was on the autism spectrum.

He had also grown two more inches and gained some muscle weight.

Sky was no longer the pale, slouching, gangly-limbed kid Mason had taught to drive.

He was into boxing and running, apparently, and had gotten several tattoos since starting school at Columbia.

Mason wasn’t ready to admit it out loud, but Sky was hot.

Not that that was a major revelation for Mason.

He figured that out when he was eighteen and couldn’t look at anything but Sky if he was in the room.

Those funny flutters in his tummy and the odd twitch in his shorts whenever Sky smiled were Mason’s final confirmation that he was…

different. He’d kissed a few girls, peeked at pictures of women in lingerie, and had watched some naked sexy parts of R-rated movies without feeling even a tickle of interest or arousal.

He told himself he was just a late bloomer but everything suddenly worked when Mason imagined kissing Sky.

Mason stared at the beautiful wreck on the sofa, wanting desperately to comfort Sky, but he was too much of a chicken.

The older and hotter Sky got, the harder it was to deny how badly Mason wanted to touch and know the man he was becoming.

He had his mother’s dark hair, bright blue eyes, and her icy, cutting demeanor, but Sky wasn’t shallow or selfish like Adele.

Instead, he was wounded, dark, and mysterious. Being rejected by your father, treated like a freak, and shunned by your entire hometown would do that to a man.

Getting drunk while his emotions were already stretched to their limits was a bad idea. Especially with Mason’s propensity to tell Sarina everything when he was tipsy. The last thing she needed to hear was that her closeted best friend was having extremely wrong thoughts about her little brother.