First Time for Everything (6 page)

A few minutes later, the car’s interior felt cool enough to enter. Joe drove cautiously down the long gravel driveway. As he drove, he shook his head with admiration. Ed had called him to report Manuel’s medical bills were being paid by the chain repair shop’s parent company. No lawsuits—but plenty of signed agreements arranged by Mrs. Perez guaranteed Manuel’s medical care and aftercare.

He waited for a clutch of cars to pass before he turned onto the blacktop. Today he and Ed planned to eat lunch at their secret spot, in the hollow created by the roots of an ancient weeping willow clinging to the banks of Lake Wewoka. Under the willow they could sit shoulder to shoulder without anyone suspecting anything and practice kissing. Their kisses still seemed awkward and too short. Joe chuckled. Eduardo Perez might have the flowery word skills down, but he kissed like a boxer throwing a wild punch. He needed to slow down.

They worked well together—Joe taught Ed about kisses, and Ed taught Joe not to hold back on expressing himself. No wonder Ed had the gift of persuasion. He had inherited it from his dad. No matter who was around, Mr. Perez would come up behind Mrs. Perez, tickling her and nibbling her neck, provoking her into peals of high-pitched giggles. Mr. Perez called Mrs. Perez his best girl, or his sweet flan, or precious honey bunny… the man liked his words. Hanging around their house resembled stepping into a Mexican soap opera, like something on Telemundo. Ed’s three younger sisters were always arguing or his older brothers were always getting into trouble. Their three shelter mutts—Moe, Larry, and Shemp—added to the drama by racing around and trying to trip up everyone.

Joe loved hanging out there. Yeah, he loved his parents, but they were controlled, more—he sought the correct word—reserved. That was it,
reserved.
Okay, not so much his mom, but his dad, Joseph Brown Sr., displayed an intense reserve, a reserve vast as the oil fields he worked at testing. He seldom smiled or laughed. When Big Joe had congratulated Joe on his driving skills, Joe had wanted to hug him, but that would have made them both feel weird.

Joe wondered how he had turned out so differently from his father. Well, not really—Big Joe excelled at science and numbers, and Joe had inherited that skill.

Artistic Ed was a surprise to his family. Mrs. Perez ran Chili Beans, a boutique Mexican café that did amazing business. On weekends, when he wasn’t at the oil field, Mr. Perez helped clean and tend bar. Ed could have gotten a job there. The rest of the Perez kids often worked there, but Ed declared he spent too much time with his family as it was—he didn’t want to work with them too.

At least working at the Stop ’n’ Sav let them spend time together. Joe didn’t need an excuse to pick up things from the store.

Joe blinked. He had been so intent on his rambling thoughts, he had almost forgotten to turn into the road leading to the alley behind the store. He pulled up, laughing as Ed pretended to waltz toward the car. He waved a brown plastic bag back and forth.

Ed saluted him as he plunked onto the passenger seat. “Amigo, you are a sight for sore eyes. I have missed you soooo much. Look, I scored us off-date tuna hoagies for our feast. Hilly doesn’t mind if I take them as long as I don’t report him if I get sick.” As he laughed, he massaged Joe’s shoulder. He fell serious. “You really scared me when you fainted. Here’s the dude I want to spend my life with dying in my arms. Romantic,
ha
, but no thanks. Dude, don’t do that to me ever again.”

Ed’s words startled Joe. He almost ran into a green plastic trash bin set too far away from the alley wall. Had Ed really said those dramatic words?

All Joe could manage was a strangled, “What?”

“What do you mean ‘what’?”

“What do you mean?”

This time Ed poked his shoulder. “Dang, Joe, did the heatstroke short-circuit your brain? What do you want me to explain? Or maybe I should sketch it out for you.”

Now even simple words failed him. Joe shook his head. He escaped from the alley, steering onto the road. He knew Ed was staring at him, waiting for some logical explanation.

“Joe?”

“No. Not now. Wait.” He kept shaking his head to emphasize his request.

“Okay.” Ed massaged Joe’s shoulder again.

The short drive back to his house seemed stretched in time, somehow twisted, like a county fair taffy pull. Instead of returning to the house, Joe guided the car down a narrow, hard-packed dirt track. He parked in the shade of a few young willows. He was out of the car and walking across the dusty grass before he realized he had parked. Behind him, Ed shut the passenger door.

The agitation circling in Joe’s mind drove him to ladder down the bank into the cool root cave. He dropped to dead leaves coating the ground. Ed followed, almost stepping on Joe’s hand in his haste.

After he settled onto the leaves, Ed reached out for Joe, hesitated, and then opted to hold out his hands in question. Joe hated seeing the confusion on Ed’s face.

“What is going on? What did I say wrong?”

“‘The dude you want to spend your life with’?” Joe stared at Ed in the shimmering luminosity reflecting up from the lake. Spidery light traced over Ed’s dark cheeks, highlighting the color in his hair. “Did you really say that to me?”

Instead of acting irritated, Ed clapped his hands together. “Chill already. Yes, I said that to you. I mean my words.”

“How can you?”

“Duh, because it’s true?”

Why did Ed’s words scare him? Joe sucked in deep breaths. He blinked away the reflections dazzling his eyes before he grabbed his water bottle from his waistband to sip. Hydrating seemed like a great self-distraction technique.

During the silence, Ed ran his fingers across Joe’s shoulder blades peeking free from the green tank top. “Joe, hey, calm down. I’m sorry, I thought you felt the same way about me. Great, okay, maybe I’m a little too dramatic, but I at least want to start off life with you. Does that idea sound more sensible?”

Joe blinked again as he sipped more water. “Sorry I’m acting like a spaz. I know I want something with you. I want to run away with you. I want to go to New York or San Francisco so I can walk down the street holding your hand. The trouble is I also want my parents to accept what I am and—maybe my mom would, but not my dad. I know it. Lately he seems unhappy about everything. This might drive him nuts.” He shook his head. “You know you’re my first… dude. I’m frightened, Ed. I really am.”

“Don’t be! This isn’t the Middle Ages. Don’t you think your parents already suspect something?”

“No. Why would they? I’ve gone out with girls before. I’m sure they wonder why I haven’t gone on a so-called guy-girl date for the past year, but what would make them think I’m stepping out with you?”
Wait.
Joe stared at Ed. “What about your parents?”

“They know. I told them.”

Joe’s throat felt like the willow roots had started squeezing his throat. He gasped for air. “You told them about… what?”

“Us.”

Ed’s one word dropped to create a tense silence. Joe expected birds to fall from the sky or the lake to part in a fine biblical fashion. He swore his blood froze despite the searing heat. “You did? Why!”

“Because I refuse to lie to them. They knew the first time I dated a dude. I never even tried it with the ladies. I knew I liked men.” Ed tapped Joe’s chest. “Hey, breathe already. They know I love you as more than a friend. They also love you. You’re smart, responsible, polite—they think the world of you. When we moved here from Texas, you were there for me. I was there for you. I always want to be there for you.”

“You told them.”

“Right, and did the world end?” Ed spread his arms. “No. Did they run to your parents? No. They know you need to move at your own speed. My parents are Mexican, not monsters. They want happiness for their children.”

“Are you saying my parents are monsters?”

“No.” Ed sighed as he scowled at Joe. “Come on, dude, don’t twist my words.”

Joe swallowed before he lunged forward to hug Ed. Ed fell back, letting Joe sprawl across him. This time Joe controlled the kiss, moving his lips across Ed’s hot, damp cheek until their lips met. Ed let Joe lead during their romantic dance.

The kiss lengthened into one of their finest ever. This time Joe experienced the energy Ed had described. The energy gave him the power to accept Ed’s parents knowing about them. In a weird way, the Perezes’ support validated the relationship. Did they treat Joe like a space alien? Hell no. How comforting.

Joe gasped as he pressed his face against Ed’s. “If my parents freak out, at least I can come live with you.”

“No one will care. At least you’re quiet, unlike my drama queen sisters. If I hear one more “Ohmygaaaaawd, Bobby Huber is to die for,” I’m gonna gag them. So far I’ve stopped myself from snarking ‘No, kiddos, Joe Brown is to die for, and he’s mine. Boo-hoo!’” Ed lunged up to reverse their positions. This time Joe thought Ed’s kiss felt less like a punch and more like a kiss.

Once they stopped nibbling each other’s lips, they sat up. Ed opened the paper bag. “Now let’s eat before this tuna turns into toxic waste. See? I bought you a cold sarsaparilla. I know how to treat you right.”

“You do, my sexy amigo, you do.” After another fast kiss, they sat shoulder to shoulder eating the sloppy tuna hoagies. Hilly stuffed his hoagies to the limit.

A strange sense of peace settled over Joe. He smiled. Knowing the Perez family accepted their relationship made the world seem a little less scary.

Ed wiped his fingers on a rough paper towel. He sighed. “Damn, I gotta run.”

“I know—I was gonna say something about the time.” Joe hesitated. “Have you thought more about, well, the future?”

Ed nodded. “I have. All will be revealed soon.”

“Tease.”

This time their kiss tasted like lunch.

T
HE
WIND
whistled against the house, sending beige dust plumes into the sullen air. The severe thunderstorm warning had everyone on edge. The family watched the small kitchen TV for updates. No tornados had been predicted, but they often came to land as unexpected guests.

Joe pushed around baked beans on his paper plate. Tonight Mom had thrown together a hasty dinner of boiled hot dogs, canned baked beans, and store-made macaroni salad. At least Grandpa had baked his special cornbread today. What a treat. Grandpa mixed pan-fried fresh corn into the goat cheese and honey-laced batter. The rich bread tasted more like pudding than bread.

Beyond the window, cruel lightning blasted across the sky. The thunder growled behind the light.

The TV snarled out the weather warning. Joe wanted to kick whoever had designed the signal. The grating sound made him want to barf.

“At least this storm will calm down the heat for your birthday party.” Joe’s mom smiled at Grandpa Sam.

Grandpa Sam winked. “I didn’t even perform a rain dance.”

Right on cue Big Joe stiffened. “Good to hear.”

Joe bit his lower lip. Man, tonight Big Joe acted irritated at everything. Before the dark clouds had appeared, the temperature seemed to spike, making everyone crankier than ever. Only Grandpa Sam maintained a level mood. Joe swore when others got cranky, Grandpa Sam became cheerful.

Grandpa Sam tapped his fork against the paper plate’s edge, creating a subtle noise. It barely sounded above the growing din of the wind. “Son, why do you reject mystery? I could call up a storm if I pleased.”

“Really?” Joe reached out to pat Grandpa Sam’s wrist. “That sounds way cool. Is that part of your shaman teaching?”

“Yes, it is, grandson.” His grandpa smiled joyfully. “I could teach you those skills, young one. You are in tune with the old natural powers.”

Big Joe stood and tossed down his napkin. “Unlike me, right? I refuse to listen to nonsense. I’d better check the barn door before the storm really hits.”

“Dad, I already checked it….” Joe spoke to the slammed porch door. He stared at his mom. “Mom, what’s going on?”

His mom bit her lower lip as she shook her head. “Your father received some disturbing news today. He needs to talk to you.”

Anxiety almost choked Joe. “Did he lose his job?”

“No, no, not at all. I really don’t want to talk about this without him.” Mom shook her head.

Grandpa Sam nodded at Joe. “Fetch your father.”

Joe stood to follow his dad. As he reached the back porch railing, the wind pushed at him. Large raindrops started hitting his body.

Dad was already running across the rain-pelted yard to the house. He waved at Joe. “Go back in! It’s dangerous out here!” They entered the kitchen wind-buffeted and rain-soaked.

Dad’s tension frightened Joe. When his dad slammed into his seat and blindly stared at the table, Joe sat down. “What’s wrong, Dad?”

The storm pulsed around the house. Joe waited for his dad to say something.

Dad finally looked up from his plate. “My company is pushing me hard to take the position in Chicago. The word ‘ultimatum’ isn’t in play yet, but it’s close. What I was thinking is I have money squirreled away for your college, but this new job would make a real difference.”

Joe rose from his chair. Anger bit at his thoughts. “I don’t want to move to Chicago!” He angled toward the back door.

Before he could pull a dramatic exit, his mom stood and blocked the way. “You sit back down, son. No more running around in this storm.” She patted his cheek.

Joe felt like a three-year-old. He slumped back into his chair and scowled. “Then what’s going on?”

“Joe, we’re not moving.” Dad’s dour expression suddenly turned playful. “Wait, is this the same bored young man who suddenly thought staying in Wewoka was a fate worse than death? What happened to wanting the bright lights in the big city?”

Wait, who had kidnapped his usually taciturn dad? Joe slid down in his chair. “Well, I just… I….”

“I’m teasing, son. I know you settled in, especially during this past year. You made new friends, and even a special friend like Ed. I’m happy to hear you want to stay, because I have a counterproposal for them. I don’t want to leave here. If they want me to attend meetings and share my expertise, they can have me when they need me. This way they have the best of me in two places.”