Chapter 5-3
1052 Words
Braden seemed to settle down as he ate. Rather, he wasn’t as antagonistic or confrontational, but that might have been because he was too busy concentrating on his Chicken McNuggets. Remy had chosen a booth, and Braden sat beside him, Lane across the table. Remy leaned against the side of the booth and watched his son eat, while under the table, his foot rested comfortably alongside Lane’s ankle. He couldn’t wait until they could retire to their room in the cabin, close the door on the world, and lose themselves in each other’s embrace.
Whenever Lane tried asking Braden anything, the boy stared silently at his food, unwilling to answer. “How’s school?” and “What classes are you taking?” and even “What did you ask for for Christmas?” drew nothing but blank looks. Not only was Braden ignoring Lane, but he was doing so intentionally. The more Lane tried to draw him out, the angrier Remy became.
Finally Remy nudged his son’s leg with his foot. “Braden? What, don’t you speak English now?” he asked.
Braden glared at his father but didn’t speak.
“Any other time, he talks up a blue streak,” Remy joked, slurping his drink through the straw. The soda was mostly gone, leaving only ice behind, and the rattle it made as he sucked on the straw was loud in the after-dinner lull of the restaurant. “Most days, you can’t get him to shut up. Now, he won’t say boo.”
Into his food, Braden muttered, “Don’t talk about me like I’m not here.”
“He speaks!” Remy teased. “So you can answer Lane’s questions, right? What’d you ask for for Christmas?”
Braden frowned into his Happy Meal and said nothing.
“It’s okay,” Lane said softly.
Remy snorted. “Yeah, if he wants nothing but coal in his stocking.”
Lane gave him a beseeching look. Don’t keep fighting him, it said. Remy knew it was petty to keep needling Braden, but his son’s antisocial behavior was embarrassing. After all the time he’d spent talking up his son to Lane, only to have Braden prove him wrong. If the entire holiday was going to be like this, he should just turn the car around and cancel the cabin altogether.
Suddenly, Braden slid out of the booth and stood. Wiping his mouth, he tossed his napkin onto the table. Before he could walk away, Remy asked, “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Bathroom,” Braden said. “I gotta pee.”
“Announce it to the world,” Remy grumbled, but he let Braden go.
Lane watched until he disappeared into the men’s room, then shifted his gaze to Remy. He looked so serious, Remy leaned forward and clasped his hand. “Alone at last,” he purred playfully.
“I think I know why he’s doing this,” Lane said. He turned his hand palm up so Remy could hold it better.
Remy laughed. “This is nothing. Sometimes he’s worse.”
“No, listen,” Lane started. Then, with a sigh, he said, “Back at the house, I think he saw us kissing in the kitchen.”
Remy shrugged. “So? That was tame, baby. If you want a real kiss…” He raised Lane’s hand to his lips and opened his mouth. Holding Lane’s gaze, Remy licked out his tongue and pressed it between two of Lane’s fingers. Lane’s skin grew hot and wet as he worked his tongue into the small gap, breaching it, suckling. He c****d an eyebrow, promising more.
With a laugh, Lane pulled his hand free and wiped it on a napkin. “I’m being serious. You told me yourself Braden doesn’t know about us. About you.”
“Maybe Kate said something,” Remy suggested, but he knew she hadn’t. When he started dating Lane, he even brought up the subject with his ex-wife, and they had discussed at length how they might explain his sexuality to their son. Kate’s opinion had been that Braden was too young to understand adult relationships, his or hers. Mike was introduced as a special friend. He must have seen how intimate they were together, but Kate didn’t flaunt the relationship in front of him. Remy had agreed to introduce Lane the same way.
Only if Braden had seen them kissing without further explanation, maybe that would make him a little pissy.
Remy reached for Lane’s hand again, but Lane pulled it out of reach. “Here he comes.”
“We’ll talk to him,” Remy promised. Sliding to the edge of the booth, he stood before Braden could sit down again. “You about ready, kid? I have to take a leak, too, so you and Lane head out to the car, hmm?”
Braden glowered at Lane. “I’ll wait here for you to get back.”
Remy began, “I said—” Then he saw the almost imperceptible shake of Lane’s head and sighed. “Fine. Whatever. Refill your drink and I’ll be right out. Lane?”
“I’m good,” Lane told him.
Remy headed for the bathroom, pausing to glance back. Lane was still seated, and Braden was playing with the soda fountain, spilling more soda than he managed to get into his cup. Yeah, they had to talk this out, before things went any further between them.
* * * *
Back on the road again, Remy let a couple miles go by in silence. They crested Afton Mountain and started down the far side of the highway, on their way to Staunton and points beyond. When he felt the pressure in his ears from the altitude, he flexed his jaw to get them to pop, then half-turned in his seat to look at Braden. Once again behind Lane, Braden nursed his soda while staring at the darkness beyond his window. Remy reached back to touch his knee, and Braden jumped. “Hey,” Remy said softly.
Braden glanced at him. Without removing the straw from his mouth, he muttered, “What?”
“Listen, um…” Remy wasn’t sure where to go or what to say next. “Maybe things got off to a bad start, you know? I don’t want you acting this way for the next two weeks. So what’s really bugging you, hmm? Can you tell me?”
Glaring at the back of Lane’s head, Braden shrugged.
Remy rubbed his son’s knee. “Is it me, maybe?” he offered. “Did your mom say something about me not wanting you to come along with us? Because I think we’ll have a great time, just the three of us. I think we can really have a lot of fun. But not if you’re in this mood of yours.”
Braden said nothing.
Remy tried a different tactic. “You were real excited back home when I first showed up. What happened, huh? What changed that?”
No response.
“Fine.” Remy turned back around, facing the road again. “I tried. But if you’re mad about something, I can’t talk to you about it unless you tell me what it is that’s bothering you.”
Softly, he heard Braden mutter, “Nothing.”
“What?” Remy asked, looking over his shoulder at his son.
Braden spoke again, louder this time. “I said it’s nothing.”
“Then snap out of it, mister,” Remy told him. “I’m not going to let you ruin our Christmas, you hear?”
- Writer
