Chapter Thirteen The Watermelon Woman, dir. by Cheryl Dunye #2
“You’re still bad at this,” Les adds helpfully.
“Thanks for the confidence, Les.”
“You’re welcome!” They skate around Eli one last time before calmly finding their way next to Peter. “So.”
“Oh, um... hello?” Peter swallows.
“You’re in love with my brother?”
“Les!” Eli shouts, almost lunging for them before they slip again. Thankfully, Peter’s a lot closer this time, and they both
spin twice before finding their footing again.
“I, uh...” Peter starts to say before Eli stops him.
“You don’t have to answer that.”
Les sings. “Are you two in looooove?”
“Les, I swear to God—”
“Eli and Peter sittin’ in a tree.” Les makes a point of quite literally skating circles around the two of them while they
sing. “K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”
Eli almost goes for Les again before he hears a surprising sound. When he looks up, he sees Peter laughing. It’s such a soft,
honest sound that it catches Eli off guard for a moment.
Les ignores their brother, skating off to the other side of the rink in record time.
“I’m sorry about them,” Eli tells Peter. “Les has never been one to care about my love life, so this is surprising.” Despite
Rue and John’s love for Keith, he always felt their family dinners were more of an obligation than anything. There’s no denying
that Eli’s family can be a bit... overbearing at times, but they’re still his family, and it always bothered him that Keith
never seemed to appreciate them.
There’s something heartwarming about seeing that Peter actually likes his family.
“I like them, they seem feisty.”
“That’s one way of describing them.”
“I was jealous of my friends who had siblings. I always wanted one.”
“I’ll sell you Les; I’ll even let you low-ball. A hundred dollars and they’re all yours.”
Peter laughs again, drawing Eli in so that they can both keep their balance. And for the second time that night, Eli’s pulled
in close to Peter’s chest. They skate like that for a while, holding their hands together, listening to the scratching of
the blades along the ice. Eli looks at Peter, and he can’t help the overwhelming urge he feels to reach up and kiss him.
So he does. Standing on the tiptoes of his skates to reach Peter.
It’s a short, sweet thing. But just enough to torture Eli, to leave him wanting more. When they separate, Peter’s smiling;
Eli adores the slight overlap of his two front teeth.
“What was that for?”
“For... practice,” Eli says, like of course that’s what it was for.
“Right, yeah. Practice.”
“PDA’s an important part of the experience, Peter. You’ll need to get used to kissing in front of other people.”
“Then...” Peter starts to say, like he almost doesn’t want to dare. “Maybe I need more practice?”
Eli smiles at him, his hand tracing Peter’s cheek. “Maybe you do.”
He lets Peter’s hand find his chin, tilting Eli’s face upward yet again to capture his lips.
***
Eli and Peter only make it around the rink twice. Which, given the size of it, shouldn’t have taken them as long as it did,
but Eli kept falling.
By the time they’re outside the rink, unlacing their skates, they’re both cold enough for hot chocolate.
“I’ll get it,” Peter says. “No reason both of us have to wait.”
“Are you sure?” Eli asks.
“Yeah, of course.” Peter surprises him with a soft kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be right back.”
Eli watches as Peter takes both of their pairs of skates to the counter to return them, watching that energetic stride, the
way Peter’s shoulders seem almost light, taking in how Peter seems more confident.
He doesn’t even notice his mother at first.
“I like him,” she says without any preamble, draping herself over the wall Eli sits against.
“Who?” Eli teases, kicking his feet back and forth.
Rue gives him a soft smack on the shoulder. “Who else could I be talking about?”
Eli breathes an exaggerated sigh of relief. “He was really nervous to meet you,” he says, wondering if outing Peter is the
right move. But he doesn’t know who else to talk to about this.
“What did you tell him about us?”
“Nothing!”
“Then why was he scared?” Rue asks.
“He’s nervous by nature.”
“He’s very sweet.” Rue pauses, and Eli braces himself for the worst. “When’s the wedding?”
“There it is.” He throws his head back.
“You know that I’m joking.” Rue laughs, grabbing onto her son’s arm.
“I know.”
“But he seems very sweet, and...” Rue lets her voice drift. It’s a rare thing for Rue Clark to leave words unsaid. Being
the director of her own press leaves her no room to beat around the bush. Every single year, she oversees each step of their
production process. And while she’s not the only one responsible for the making of the books that costs thousands of dollars,
she’s the face of the company.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Rue shakes her head.
“Mom.”
“It’s nothing, you don’t want to hear it.”
“Just tell me.”
Rue pauses, glancing toward her son before she turns back to the ice. “For months there, you seemed so lost after Keith broke
your heart. And... a mother never likes to see her child that way. Between him and how stuck you are at that awful website,
I was really worried about you.”
“Mom,” Eli starts to say, but he’s silenced with a hand on top of his own. The breakup with Keith brought many conversations.
Rue had a higher opinion of Keith than Patricia or Rose ever did, but she’d admitted to Eli one night, post breakup, that
there was something . A “gut feeling,” as she’d labeled it.
“You didn’t seem happy with him,” she says. “Even a few months before the breakup... I don’t know. Things seemed different
between the two of you. Like you were already mourning something.”
Eli doesn’t say a word.
“But... you seem happy now. Happier than I’ve seen you in a very long time, Eli. And it’s just... it’s nice to see.”
“Mom. Don’t get all sappy on me, please.”
“I’m just telling you the truth!” she says defensively. “He’s a sweet boy, and I’m glad that you found him. Gives me hope
for grandchildren after all.”
“Pfft, yeah, right. I don’t think I’m father material.”
“Your father said the exact same thing. I was so scared to tell him I was pregnant. But when I worked up the courage, he just
smiled at me and he started to cry, saying, ‘I’m going to be a father!’ over and over again.”
“Yeah...” Eli’s gaze drifts toward the hot chocolate line, where Peter has sped through in record time, carrying a drink
tray with four cups, a fifth cup in his other hand. He feels his heart swell with joy, pride.
Happiness.
“I like it when you’re happy, Eli. Makes me feel like I did my job right.”
“I like him a lot, Mom,” he says softly.
And he hates that it’s not a lie.
For a moment, he considers the future. Eli will show Michael the real article about Peter, and he’ll fall so in love with it and realize the error of his ways that he’ll offer Eli a staff writer
position at Vent . Peter will finally be brave enough to query an agent, and of course they’ll sign him right away and sell his book.
Eli could tell him. He could tell Peter about his feelings, be just as honest with Peter as he’s asked Peter to be with him.
He thinks back to their pull-out clause, his heart aching at the idea that he once thought he couldn’t love Peter Park.
Because anyone would be lucky to have that privilege.
Peter Park deserves someone better than Eli, he knows that. But what if he accepted Eli for who he is? What if they had a
chance?
What if?
Eli watches Peter as he makes his way toward him and his mother. He smiles, accepting the hot chocolate with another kiss
on the cheek from Peter, breathing in the sickly sweet smell of the melted chocolate, a dollop of whipped cream already melting
on the surface.
He leans into Peter, appreciating that warmth, that comfort.
It’s a feeling he could certainly get used to.