Chapter 13
Kit
After a few wonderful days with Hal and Ryder, two nights in New Orleans, and a couple of days on the road, we arrived in Devon’s hometown. It was three days before Christmas, and a cool, crisp evening in Baltimore.
Devon got us a room in a fancy hotel with a view of the inner harbor. When I asked him why we didn’t just go to his mom and stepdad’s house, he said, “It’s getting late, and we’ve been on the road all day. I think it’d be better to go see them tomorrow.”
“Should we text them and tell them we’ll be delayed?”
“They don’t know we’re coming.”
“But you spoke to your mom three days ago. Didn’t you mention we were on our way?”
“I didn’t want to get her hopes up,” he said, “just in case I...”
He didn’t finish that sentence. He didn’t have to, because he’d said “I,” not “we.” He hadn’t been concerned about us running late, or having a change of plans, or breaking down on the road. He’d been worried he himself wouldn’t make it this far.
It was a reminder of what Devon was carrying with him. He’d seemed consistently upbeat, so I thought he was starting to believe he’d dodged the curse. After all, his thirtieth birthday was only about six weeks away. But he was right where he’d always been.
His back was to me as he rifled through his overnight bag, but he turned to me when I touched his arm and asked him, “Do you want to talk about how you’re doing?”
“I’m doing great and looking forward to a wonderful night together. We won’t have this kind of privacy when we’re staying with my mom and stepdad, so let’s make the most of it.”
I didn’t understand how he could simultaneously seem so positive and believe he was facing impending doom, but his smile seemed perfectly genuine. I decided not to push.
Devon grabbed his toiletry case and said, “I’m going to take a shower. Want to join me?”
“Absolutely.”
Not surprisingly, showering together led to fucking against the bathroom wall. Later on, we put on pajamas, enjoyed a decadent meal from room service, and got comfortable in front of the gas fireplace. I worked on sketching an idea for a new gown while Devon played his acoustic guitar.
After a while, I forgot about the sketch and watched him instead. He was so beautiful. The need to get close to him was overwhelming, so I tossed aside my sketchpad and announced, “Incoming.” That made him grin.
He set aside the guitar, and I crossed the short distance between us and straddled his lap. I kissed him before picking up the instrument and asking, “Can you teach me how to play this?”
“Sure.” I sat between his legs and leaned against him, and he said, “Before I teach you the basics, you should experiment and get comfortable with it.” I cautiously plucked one of the strings, and he told me, “You don’t have to be that gentle with it.”
“I’m worried about damaging it.”
“You won’t.”
“I’d feel terrible if I did, though.”
“The worst you could do is break a string, but I have replacements. Give yourself permission to play around and have fun, Kit.”
I hesitated and admitted, “I’ve always been afraid of making mistakes, or doing something wrong. I wish I wasn’t like that.”
“Then go for it. Wail on that guitar! Everyone has a rockstar fantasy at one time or another, right? Let yours out.”
Why not? I got up, slung the strap around my neck, and gave the strings an experimental swipe.
I did a few more, and then I got completely ridiculous with it, playing tunelessly but enthusiastically while striking various rock star poses.
I announced, “Big finish,” whipping my head back and forth and strumming wildly before throwing my hands in the air.
Devon whooped and applauded, and when I set aside the guitar, he lifted me off my feet. I laughed and said, “That felt good.”
“I’m glad. Way to cut loose.”
I wrapped my arms and legs around him, and as he carried me to the bed I said, “I would have felt way too self-conscious to act that silly with anyone but you.”
“Thank you for trusting me with your inner goofball.”
He playfully tossed me onto the fluffy, white duvet and climbed up after me. His face was lit up with a radiant smile, so I told him, “I like seeing you so happy.”
“It’s all about living in the moment,” he said, as he gathered me into his arms. “And this moment is absolutely perfect.”
Devon was still in a great mood the next morning. He rolled out of bed, threw open the curtains, and launched into “Good Morning Baltimore” from Hairspray, which made me laugh.
After singing the opening bit and the chorus, he grabbed my hand and pulled me out of bed. “Let’s get going,” he said. “I can’t wait to show you my hometown and introduce you to my mom and stepdad.”
We got dressed and checked out of the hotel, and then he took me to his favorite diner. It reminded me of my dad’s place, except that this one had already been restored to its glory days. I snapped a few photos to show my dad before tucking into a huge breakfast.
When we went to check out, Devon selected a cake with chocolate frosting from the bakery case by the cash register.
I asked him about it as they boxed it up, and he said, “It’s a local favorite called a Smith Island cake—several thin layers of yellow cake with fudgy chocolate frosting in between.
It’s pure nostalgia for me, because my mom would always make me one for my birthday.
I thought it’d be nice to bring one home. ”
Devon had been buying wine and regional treats for his mom and stepdad throughout our road trip, which we’d assembled into a huge gift basket.
To round it out, we went to a gourmet market for a bunch of fancy cheeses, and to a bakery for a festive tray of holiday cookies.
Our next stop was a florist, where we put together a gorgeous, Christmassy arrangement for his mom.
After that, he called his mother and casually asked about her plans for the day.
It turned out she and her husband had stopped for brunch after meeting friends for a game of pickleball.
Once he ended the call, he smiled at me and said, “Operation surprise Mom and Ed is a go. We should plan on getting there in about an hour. They’ll be home by then. ”
“You call your stepdad by his first name?”
“Yeah. When he and my mom decided to get married, he made a point of telling me he’d never try to replace my father, and that I should keep calling him Ed.
I’ve been doing that ever since, even though it feels off.
He’s my dad in every way that matters, and I love him.
But it’d be weird if I started calling him Dad now, after all these years. ”
“You should try it out sometime,” I said. “It might mean a lot to both of you.”
“Or it might be super awkward.”
Since we had some time, he drove me past a few local landmarks, and then he showed me where he’d lived before his mom married his stepdad.
The architecture was different than what I’d grown up with, but the graffiti, the bars on all the windows, and the overall dreariness felt familiar.
It was a lot like the neighborhood my dad and I had lived in when we got our first apartment.
“The neighborhood actually looks better now than it did twenty years ago,” Devon said. “People are making an effort to revitalize it.” I didn’t see any signs of revitalization, so I’d have to take his word for it.
I asked, “Are you still in touch with any of the kids you grew up with?”
“No. My friends decided I was a snob after Mom married Ed and we moved to Guilford. I swear I was exactly the same, but they wanted nothing more to do with me, so that was that.”
“What was Guilford like?”
“You’re about to find out.”
It turned out to be an absolutely gorgeous historic neighborhood with massive houses, mature trees, and wide lawns. “It’s so pretty,” I said. “I’ve never seen a neighborhood like this, except in the movies.”
When we pulled up in front of his mom and stepdad’s house, I muttered, “Holy shit, you grew up in the Home Alone house.” It was a huge, flawless, Georgian-style red brick home with white trim and black shutters.
“It’s a similar style, but that one’s actually in a Chicago suburb.”
“It’s not just similar. This looks exactly like it.” I pulled up a picture of the movie house on my phone and held it up to compare it. “No, my mistake,” I said. “Your front entrance is grander, and your house actually looks like it’s bigger.”
As we got out of the van and gathered the presents, I said, “I can’t even imagine what it must have been like to go from your old apartment to someplace like this.”
“At first it was nerve-wracking, and it triggered a lot of insecurity. I guess it’s kind of like you were saying last night, I was afraid of making mistakes or doing something wrong.
Everything was so nice, and I didn’t know what would happen if, let’s say, I accidentally tracked mud on the priceless imported rugs or broke one of Ed’s expensive tchotchkes.
I was walking on eggshells, until I finally realized Ed cared about me more than he cared about his stuff.
I was able to settle in after that, and—”
Before he could finish that sentence, we were interrupted by a high-pitched shriek of delight. A middle-aged couple in matching blue track suits burst out of the house and ran toward us. Devon put the cake box back in the van a moment before his mom tackled him in a massive hug.
She exclaimed, “I knew it! I told Ed just you wait and see, Devon and his boyfriend are going to show up any day now and surprise us for Christmas!”
Devon chuckled and asked, “How did you know?”
“Well, duh! I’ve been following your progress on that great, big road trip.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out you were on your way here, even though you took the long way by swinging south.
And your call today didn’t fool me. ‘Hi, Mom. What are you up to today, not that I’m asking for any particular reason.
’ As if I wouldn’t put two and two together! ”