33 Cutter
I CAN’T BELIEVE I’M DOING this. If you had told me last week I’d be on my way to spend the day with my mother and my brother with Aubie at my side, I would have laughed in your face. But here we are.
It all started with that promise I made to Aubie. Talk to Callum. Sounds easy, right?
Not so much.
Yeah, we’ve spoken over the years. Terse exchanges with yes or no answers. Small talk and surface level stuff. Nothing addressing the elephant in the room.
This time it started with a simple text message.
ME
We need to talk.
CALLUM
I’ll be at Mom’s this weekend for her birthday. I know she’d love to see you.
Mom’s. Double whammy. I haven’t been in the same room with my mother in over six months.
Not since she dropped by my apartment one day unannounced because I hadn’t been taking her calls.
I spent an awkward fifteen minutes assuring her I was alive and well before making the excuse that I was running late to work.
It’s not like my mother has done anything wrong. It’s my own stupid insecurities. Maybe I’m just imagining the disappointment I see in her eyes. Maybe it’s time I faced her doubts about me. I may not be the success story that Callum is, but I’m gainfully employed and taking care of myself.
Aubie reaches across the seat and squeezes my hand as if he can sense my thoughts. “It’s going to be all right.”
“I hope so.”
I can’t believe he agreed to come with me.
To be honest, I can’t believe I asked him, knowing what it means.
Even though he assured me I can introduce him as a friend if that makes it easier, I refuse to do that to him.
He’s important to me. No one’s more surprised by that than I am, but it’s not something I want to lie about.
I’ve been doing too much of that the last few years.
Which means I’m going to be coming out to my family.
I don’t know what’s making me more nervous, that or talking to my brother.
“How long has it been since you’ve been back?”
I have to think about that for a minute. “Close to two years.”
When I came to move my shit out of my mother’s garage after renting my apartment. But saying two years out loud sounds worse than it is. I justify it by telling myself my mother has her golden boy in Callum. She doesn’t need her loser son.
“Just remember, I’m here for you, in whatever form that takes. If you need to bail for any reason, I’ll be right behind you.”
I could tell when I mentioned going home that Aubie was equating it to his own situation.
He told me he hasn’t set foot in his father’s house since he graduated college and saw no reason to change that.
But, as he put it, “there’s no way your mother is the anti-Christ since my father owns that title, so you should be safe. ”
I don’t think my mom will have a problem with my new sexual reality. And I know how charming Aubie can be, so there’s no worries that she won’t immediately love him. No, she’s not the one who worries me.
It’s Callum. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little troubled by whatever secret Daryl insists Callum has to tell me.
I pull into the driveway behind Mom’s Camry and what must be the rental Callum is using. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and psyche myself up for what’s beyond the front door.
“You got this,” Aubie assures me.
I grin at him with more bravado than I feel. “You ready?”
“To meet the fam? I’m down.”
It hits me then. I’m taking him home to meet my family.
I’ve only ever taken one person home to my mother.
Then again, I’ve only been involved with one other person.
In sharp contrast to the man beside me, who probably can’t count how many people he’s been with.
What does someone so experienced see in a man like me?
“Cutter.”
I blink. “Yeah?”
“Get out of your head.” He reaches for the door handle and climbs out of the truck. “Come on.”
I follow him up the walkway to my childhood home, but when I get to the door, I don’t know what to do. I mean, this was my house. I grew up here. Always before I just walked right in like I still lived here, but that feels wrong now.
So I knock.
It seems to confuse my mother too when she answers the door. “The door was unlocked,” she says, her eyes bouncing between me and Aubie.
I didn’t tell her I was bringing anyone. Actually, all I did tell her was that I was stopping by today, if that was all right.
Her usually messy hair is twisted up on top of her head, a few wayward strands framing her face, which looks older than the last time I saw her. There’s more gray in her brown hair, too. She’s dressed in her standard Levis and flannel shirt. That’s my mom, casual to the core.
I clear my throat and reach for Aubie’s hand. “Mom, this is Aubie. My…boyfriend.’
We hadn’t talked about that part. I thought of how I was going to introduce him, and boyfriend sounded right. I glance at him and he smiles and squeezes my hand before releasing it and extending it to my mother.
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Knight.”
I’ll give my mom credit; she doesn’t even flinch at that admission. Instead she looks Aubie up and down before pulling him into a tight mom hug.
“None of that Mrs. Knight stuff,” she fusses. “Call me Carrie. Or Mom. All of Cutter’s friends used to growing up.”
I ignore the smirk he sends me. “That sounds like a story,” he mouths to me.
“Later.”
My mother draws me into my own mom hug then stands aside for us to enter.
The house is warm and smells like Mom’s pot roast, bringing back memories of weekends in my youth.
I slip out of my coat and reach for Aubie’s, hanging them on the hall tree before heading into the livingroom.
The woodstove is glowing with a fire and the TV is tuned to a college football game, telling me Callum has already made himself comfortable.
“You cooked?” I ask her.
“Of course I cooked. You guys certainly weren’t going to.”
“But it’s your birthday. We should be taking you out.”
“Nonsense,” she says. “I’d rather spend time at home with my boys. Now what can I get you to drink?”
“Water is fine,” I reply, looking at Aubie, who nods.
“Sounds great.”
She ducks through the dining room to the kitchen, leaving us alone.
“Are you okay?” Aubie asks.
We’re interrupted before I can answer. “Hey little brother.”
I blow out a breath before turning to face Callum, and now I’m suddenly rethinking this whole idea. Try as I might to be the bigger man, I still find it hard to be in the same room with him.
Aubie, again sensing my discomfort, jumps in. “Hi, I’m Aubie. You must be Callum.”
Callum glances between us then levels me with a questioning look. I steel myself for his reaction and add, “He’s my boyfriend.”
Callum has always had a good poker face, so watching his expression morph from curiosity to understanding is entertaining. “Boyfriend, huh?” He steps forward and takes Aubie’s outstretched hand. “Sounds like we have a lot to talk about, bro.”
My mother reenters the room with two glasses of water. I notice Callum is holding a beer. There’s an awkward silence that I can’t for the life of me think how to fill. Leave it to Aubie once again to step in.
“Carrie, whatever you’re cooking smells amazing.”
She beams at him. “It’s just pot roast. I hope you brought your appetite.”
“I can’t remember the last time I had a home cooked meal. Do you need any help in the kitchen?”
“Well, as long as you’re offering, I could use a spare hand to stir the gravy.”
“Stirring just happens to be one of my specialties in the kitchen.” He throws me a meaningful glance with a nod toward my brother before following my mother into the kitchen. No excuses now.
Callum waits till they’re gone before turning back to me. “So, what did you want to talk about?”
“Not here.” I head down the hall toward the stairs. Callum follows me down to the basement rec room, where my father’s pride and joy takes center stage.
The pool table was the catalyst for one of the few fights I ever witnessed between my parents.
I remember how excited Dad was when he found it second hand for the cost of removing it.
He’d been talking about getting one for years, but Mom was always against it.
Too expensive, too big, too hard to get rid of once he lost interest in it.
It took four of Dad’s buddies to get it down the stairs, and as Mom had worried, it gobbled up most of the room.
Still, we got our use out of it. It became the center of many a heart-to-heart family talk.
Callum walks over to the cue rack and grabs two, tossing me one. “You break.”
Why not? I call solids and break then line up my first shot.
“So…boyfriend, huh?” Callum says. “How long has that been going on?”
Here we go.
“Why, you want to steal him, too?” I hit the green ball into the corner pocket with a bank shot.
“Ouch. Okay, I suppose I deserved that.”
I look up at him and he levels me with that charming half grin he always uses to get his way. “You think?” I snap, and when he quirks a brow, I add, “Your TV personality won’t work on me.”
The smile fades and he rolls the stick between his fingers, giving me a rare peek at the man behind the facade. “Okay, little brother, you have the floor. What’s on your mind?”
A lot of things could qualify there, but the one foremost in my mind is the why, so let’s get right to it. I’d rather spend as little time as possible one on one with him.
“Why did you do it?”
He looks like he’s going to play innocent, then sighs and runs a hand back through his perfectly styled hair. That’s what he is from head to toe–perfectly styled. Even on an off day like today, he still looks like a magazine model. He’s all about the image. A plastic caricature.
Then he opens his mouth and suddenly there’s my brother. Not the one he became, but the one he used to be back when he was still human.
“Thank fucking god, we’re finally going to do this.”
I miss my next shot on that remark. “You want to talk about it?”