Epilogue
EPILOGUE
DIMA
Jake stood at one end of the long kitchen counter, clutching an empty plate as he studied the pot luck spread. With a gentle hip check, Dima nudged him to the side and reached for the cranberry sauce. “What’s wrong?”
“Why is there sauerkraut?” Jake asked. “Who the hell eats sauerkraut for Thanksgiving?”
“Baltimore does,” Val explained, joining them with the dish Jake handed over when they arrived. He released the plastic lid to reveal mashed sweet potatoes. “I don’t get it either, but Weston’s grandmother made it, so…”
“Got it.” Jake mimed zipping his lips, so adorably that Dima couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek.
Boyfriend. At his age, and after so long. Dima adored it. Adored Jake, and loved him even more. Behind them, Val made some sort of gagging noise. Dima ignored him, since Val and his husband were much, much worse.
Once they finished loading their plates, Val led them through the crowded house. They thread their way through the loud teens who’d gathered in the den and emerged into the relative calm of the sun room claimed by the crop of cousins around Weston’s age. Jake had been surprised to learn Dima spent Thanksgiving with Weston’s family, considering how much they enjoyed needling each other, but the tradition dated to Val and Weston’s close friendship in high school, when Weston’s parents learned the brothers had no relatives in the United States. On their arrival, Mrs. Kelley had greeted Jake with the same enthusiasm she did all other significant others of her adopted horde. Dima hoped being surrounded by such a welcoming family eased the sting of Jake being so far from his own parents for the holiday.
Val claimed on the arm of the love seat where Sage and Weston ate. Dima gestured for Jake to use the chair next to them, but Jake rolled his eyes and sank gracefully to the floor. After Dima sat instead, Jake squirmed his way between Dima’s legs.
“Jake,” Weston said, pointing his turkey-laden fork, “when I’m at Andrews next week?—”
“You guys promised one meal free from work talk,” Dima interrupted. Dating one of his brother’s friends meant more meals with his brother, but the downside to being the odd civilian out often meant little to contribute. Jake had thrown himself into work the past month, catching up on the project at Joint Base Andrews. He’d made such a good impression, despite leaving them in the lurch for a few weeks, that the leadership there was apparently making noises about poaching him permanently.
“We don’t keep you from talking about work.” Weston shoved his food in his mouth.
“You want to hear about my work?” Challenge accepted. “Well, there’s this patient I saw while on service last month…”
Jake groaned between his knees, and not in the fun way. “We’re eating, baby. I’m still scarred from when you told me. New topic. Sauerkraut. Explain it to me like I’m five.”
The topic soon absorbed others in the room, and Dima enjoyed his meal as Jake slowly relaxed against him. Soon, the discussion over appropriate Thanksgiving foods turned to the never-ending canned versus homemade cranberry sauce argument. When the debate ended on a draw, favorite foods for other holidays entered the fray, and Dima found himself offering one of his own.
“Sosaties, fresh from the barbecue.” At the blank looks from those around him, he explained, “Christmas is a summer holiday in South Africa. My partner Sipho once grilled us these amazing kebabs marinated in apricot and curry.”
The memory absorbed him all at once. Bright sun atop the roof of their apartment building. Sipho, adorned by the paper crown from his Christmas cracker, as he shared stories of past holidays with his family while he grilled lunch. The stars had aligned to give both of them the day free from the hospital. Sipho hadn’t seen his parents for years, but he and Dima still toasted them with glasses of the sweet and creamy amarula they’d enjoyed for dessert.
A hand tightened around his ankle, and Dima yanked himself to the present to find Jake staring up at him with a sweet smile. When Val patted his shoulder, he realized this was the first time he’d ever mentioned Sipho in casual conversation. Dima had sequestered all these memories for so long, but acknowledging his first love by sharing the good moments with his family and friends felt—good. Felt right.
Even better, none of them made a big deal of it. To be fair, Weston’s extended family was oblivious to the magnitude of what he’d revealed. Still, a load lifted from his shoulders that Dima didn’t realize he’d carried for so long.
Jake snuck a kiss to his knee before turning back to the conversation. Dima trailed his hand through his boy’s soft hair and settled into his seat, ready to enjoy new holidays with a new love. Sipho would always keep his space in Dima’s heart, right beside where Jake enjoyed plenty room of his own.