Dear Mr. Brody by A.M. Johnson

Donovan

We both smiled at each other in the mirror, toothpaste covering our lips as we brushed our teeth. The morning sun filtered in through the bathroom window, muted by the opaque glass. Getting to wake up next to Parker after last night had made for one of the best mornings of my life. His warm skin under my palm, the soft golden hair on his arms beneath my fingertips. I’d thought I’d been dreaming, thought everything that had happened, everything we’d shared had been something I’d conjured up. But he was here. Here with me in my bed, his smell on my sheets. Here with me in this bathroom, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief as we both stood there unapologetically nude. Our reflections explicit. His skin marked by my teeth, mine by his nails. We’d fucked again this morning, half-awake and groggy in the shower. Parker had given himself to me, given me his trust and his patience, and God, I was falling. Falling for him. For this. The idea of sunny mornings, and eager lips, and shared glances. I wanted this. I wanted to give myself to him, even if it scared me, even if I wasn’t sure if I could take it. I wanted to try. For him.

“Stop it,” he said, his voice muffled around his toothbrush. He leaned down and spit into the sink. Raising his eyes, he stared at me through the mirror as he turned on the faucet. “Stop thinking so hard or you’ll ruin our postcoital buzz.”

“Our what?” I asked, leaning down. I spit into my own sink, chuckling as I turned on the faucet. “I swear, some of the things you say…”

We both rinsed and spit again. It was all very domesticated. It made me smile.

He rested his hip against the counter and faced me. I tried, unsuccessfully, not to look at his dick. When I lifted my gaze, I was met with a self-assured smile. He ran his hand over his abs, his stomach muscles contracting, and if he didn’t have things to do today, I’d never let him leave this house. Or get dressed. His body was art.

“Now I have to know what you’re thinking,” he said, and I rubbed the back of my neck.

Of course, my face flushed.

“I wish you didn’t have to leave so soon.” I took a step toward him. “If I could, I’d figure out a way to keep you here all day.” One more step and my hand was on his hip. I couldn’t get enough of the way his skin seemed to make my own tingle. Smiling, I said, “I liked waking up next to you.”

He raked his fingers through my hair, his eyes falling to my mouth. “Is that all you were thinking about?”

My knuckles dusted the ridges of his abs. “I might’ve been thinking about how nice it would be to have you naked all day too.”

“Mm. I could be into that.” His lips were wet and minty as he kissed me. Parker pressed his fingers into the nape of my neck, and my tongue slipped into his mouth. After a minute or two, we were both breathing heavy, our chests together, our bodies ready for more. “Hell,” he groaned, resting his forehead against mine. “I could stay. I could—”

“You have to go. You have a play to write.”

He exhaled, his hot breath tickling my lips. “I don’t think I can.”

Leaning back, I said, “You know you can.”

“Because I write scripts all the time.”

I tugged him close, ignoring his sarcasm.  “I’ll help you. We can make it smaller. Focus on Silas and Pan. Your play doesn’t have to be a perfect adaptation of The Lost Boys. Make it your own.”

“You’ll help me?” he asked, and Jesus, the look on his face.

It made my heart trip all over itself. He stared at me like I was something to be revered.

“Park… I would love to help. Every night, if you want.”

His crooked grin was back in full swing. “Every night? Do I have to be naked?”

“It’s not a requirement, but…”

Parker pinched my ass, and I swore, leaning down I bit his shoulder.

“Ow,” he groaned, and I laughed.

“Stop fucking pinching me, then.”

We were teenagers.

I cupped the side of his cheek. The pad of my thumb grazing his lower lip. “I could lower the number of assignments I give you in class. Lighten your burden.”

“No way. No special treatment,” he said, his smile gone. “I’m serious, Van. That’s when shit gets messy. Alright?”

I nodded, knowing he was right, hating myself a little for doing the one thing I promised myself I wouldn’t.

He covered my hand with his. “I don’t want you to have a reason to regret us. If things don’t—”

“Yeah, I get it.” I stepped back, the light and easy feeling of the morning drifting away.

Reality was a much heavier weight to carry.

The truth was Parker was my student. He was the first guy I’d ever been with, and he was much younger than me. We’d only been together a short while.

The truth was things might not work out.

That truth hurt me the most, because if I were being honest with myself, I might’ve already fallen for him. Not fallen in love. Not yet, at least. But shit, I could see it. It could be waking up with him and toothpaste kisses. It could be watching him grow as an author. It could be waffles with Anne on the weekends, and late-night movies with my head in his lap. The possibility of us was what made me force a smile when he called my name.

“Van…” he said as I walked toward the bathroom door. “What just happened?”

“Nothing.” My smile held, but he wasn’t buying it. I stood in the doorway and wished I hadn’t put that worried look on his face. “The thought of us not working out, of having regrets. It’s not a great feeling. Especially after...” He opened his mouth to say something, and I held up my hand. My smile was real this time. “But that’s how this works, right? Dating? Boyfriends. We see how it goes, and if we’re lucky, we find the person we’ve been looking for.”

“Am I that person for you?” he asked, prowling toward me with a cocky smirk, but his voice had vacillated enough, I noticed.

I kissed his cheek and chuckled, wrapping my arms around him. “I don’t know. But I can’t lie and say I don’t hope that it’s you.”

His forehead rested on my shoulder, the heat of his body stealing away any lingering chill from the air. “It feels too soon to think it, but I hope it’s you too.”

We stood like that, breathing each other in, neither of us ready for that fucking reality pulling the hands on the clock.

“Can I make you breakfast before you go?” I asked, and he lifted his head with a dopey grin.

“I will always say yes to food.”

Laughing, I let go of his waist and turned into the bedroom. “Do you have time?”

“No, and yes. Rachel won’t care if I’m late. I’m not technically working today anyway.”

I pulled out a pair of underwear from my dresser drawer and slipped them on. “And the new director will be there?”

“Chance,” he said, slipping into his pants. He didn’t have on underwear. And now I’d be thinking about that all day. Perfect. “I met him on Thursday, seems decent enough. He’s worried about the cost of the play, even though we told him we’ll get sponsors.”

He sniffed his shirt and wrinkled his nose.

“Want to borrow one of mine?” I asked, opening another drawer, I pulled out a simple blue cotton t-shirt and held it up.

“Thanks. I’m already having to go commando all day. Which is weird as fuck.”

Or sexy as fuck.

“I could lend you a pair of—”

“That’s okay,” he laughed. “I draw the line at wearing another man’s underpants.”

“But you’re okay with what you did with your tongue last night.”

“Hey… I have standards.” He took the shirt from my hands. “And don’t act like you didn’t like what I did to your ass last night.” Parker leaned in for a kiss. Once, twice and he sighed. “I can’t think about that, or I’ll never leave, and I really want you to cook me breakfast.”

His laugh made my stomach warm.

“Get dressed, I’ll make you eggs.”

“Of all the dirty talk, you picked my favorite kind.”

“If that’s true, what would you say if I asked to make you dinner tonight?”

“I’ll be back at seven.”

I pulled into the driveway of my parents’ house. I hadn’t planned on coming over today, but after Parker left, my brother had called and invited me over to their place for lunch. Apparently, Owen had some news he wanted to share with our family. I’d immediately called my gossipy-as-hell sister to see if she had any intel on said news. I’d hope it wasn’t that he was moving away for a job. I hardly saw him as it was. If he left Atlanta, I didn’t think we’d ever see him again.

Depressed by the thought, I stared at the red brick house we grew up in. It was one of the older homes in Milton, on the smaller side, but I loved it. I’d hoped to find something like it when I’d looked for houses after my divorce. This place, my family, they’d always be my home. On my way over, I’d thought about sharing my own news, and decided that I would. I wanted them to know about Parker. Maybe not all the details, but that I was finding myself, dating a great guy whom I hoped they wanted to maybe meet someday. Deep down, way below all my nervous anxiety, I knew my parents. I knew this house and its cluttered shelves and dusty family photos. Dad’s books and Mom’s old French romances. She’d been a stay-at-home, peanut-butter-and-jelly kind of mom, and my dad, he’d always wanted to make sure we understood how important it was to learn, teaching us like we were one of his pupils at Emory. They’d accept me. The words rang true in my head, and as I was about to open the door, my sister knocked on the window.

I almost jumped out of my skin.

“Shit, Olive.”

“Are you hiding?” she asked, grinning. “Can I hide with you?”

She stood back as I opened the door. “You really have no idea what Owen has up his sleeve? The whole twin-to-twin thing isn’t ringing any bells?”

“Nothing. It’s unnerving.” She linked her arm through mine as we made our way to the front door. “Do you think he’s moving?”

“Shit, that’s what I thought too.”

We stopped, staring at his car parked in the drive. “He can’t move. Mom and Dad would be devastated.”

“Just Mom and Dad?” I asked, knowing her answer.

She glared at me with glassy eyes.

“He’s a bastard most of the time, and he makes me crazy, but he’s my second half, Vannie.”

“Hey… don’t call me that.”

“I’m feeling sentimental, fuck off.”

I huffed out a laugh and kissed her cheek. “He’s not moving.”

She sucked in a breath, and nodded, her hope palpable. “And what about you? Are you going to tell the parents about your boy toy?”

“Way to make it sound sleazy,” I said as we started back toward the house again. “He’s not my boy toy. He’s my boyfriend.”

She stopped suddenly, all wide-eyed and expectant. At this rate we’d never make it inside.

“Since fucking when. Last time you called me, you said it was casual. Why was I not informed the minute this label was created… unless. Wait, were you both in bed when—”

“Jesus, Liv. Can we not.”

“Okay, okay.” She pressed her lips together.

“I can’t believe you sometimes,” I said, and she was giddy.

I broke down and told her about what happened at the festival. About Anne and how she’d figured out that Parker and I were more than friends.

“She’s such an observant kid, Van.”

“I know. It’s scary sometimes.”

Olive shoved me in the shoulder. “Did you ask him to be your boyfriend after that?”

“Why does that sound childish?” I asked and she shrugged. “Yeah, Liv… basically. We talked about it last night.”

“When he stayed over?”

“When he stayed over.”

She crooned and mussed up my hair. “Aw… I can’t wait to meet him.”

God help us all.

When we finally made our way inside, we were greeted by the heavy scent of spice and peaches. I hadn’t been over here in what felt like forever, but was instantly at ease as we walked through the house. Nothing ever changed around here. The same old wallpaper, and couches, with their ugly floral pattern and worn seat cushions that sat in the den. It doubled as my father’s office, and as always, he was hiding away inside. Olive let go of my arm and headed for the kitchen as I popped my head in to say hello.

“What are you working on?” I asked and he lifted his head, his glasses sliding down his nose. A nose I swore got bigger every time I saw him.

“Oh, you know, this and that.” I smiled at his familiar words. “No little monster today?”

“She’s with Lanie.”

“I see.” He took off his glasses and set them on his cluttered desk. “Maybe bring her by next weekend? We need to finish that tornado puzzle she just had to have.”

“I can make that happen,” I said and loved the way his eyes lit up.

“Don’t see her enough. After this semester, I’ll be an old retiree. I need her to keep me young.”

“Sixty-five is the new fifty.”

He snorted, his bushy eyebrows dancing as he laughed. “Is that so?”

“It’s the word on the street.”

He clapped his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t tell your mom, she might think I’m capable of renovating the guest bathroom after all.”

“I could help.”

He eyed me and I held back my laugh. “Let’s go see what your brother has to say. All this fuss. He better not tell us he’s moving, your mother will be—”

“Devastated. We all will be.”

I followed him through the living room, and as the kitchen came into view, I smiled. Olive was sitting on the counter, her legs dangling like she was ten and not forty. Mom laughed at Owen, gripping his arm, she pulled him close. She was nervous too.

“What if he’s gay,” I said before I thought better of it, hoping like hell my dad’s response wouldn’t break my heart. It was a selfish thing to do. But I had to know.

“Lord, that’s what your mother said to me last night. She always thought he and Shane were closer than they let on.”

“What?” I asked, incredulous. “She thinks Owen and Shane…”

“Who knows. You know your mom. She loves her romances.”

“You guys would be okay with that?”

Dad turned to face me, a flash of something I couldn’t decipher passed over his expression. “He’s our son, Van. And your brother. Family. It doesn’t matter to us, and it sure as hell shouldn’t matter to you who he—”

“Dad…” I interrupted, wanting to tell him right then and there about Parker. But I hesitated.  This was something I had to tell them both at the same time. My mother would never forgive me if I told my dad first. “I don’t care if he’s gay. Not at all. As long as he’s happy.”

“That’s all we want for our kids.”

My eyes stung as he watched me. He’d probably kick my ass for dating a student, and maybe I deserved it, but he wanted me to be happy. And God, happy wasn’t a sufficient-enough word for how I felt about Parker.

“I’ll remind you of that when you’re bitching at us about something.” I gave him a lopsided smile as he elbowed me in the ribs. He reminded me so much of Olive.

“Come on, let’s get this show on the road. I’m hungry.”

Fortunately, for all of us, he didn’t have to wait long. My dad could be a bear when he was hungry. Every time we got together as a family, we all had our roles. It was efficient. Olive had always overseen the drinks, Owen plates and cutlery, and I’d helped my mom with whatever loose ends she had. Which had turned out to be nothing too serious today. I’d helped her make ham and cheese sandwiches, and when the peach pie was ready, we all sat down to eat. It was quiet at first as we stuffed our faces, my mom throwing glances in Owen’s direction every ten seconds. Olive kicked my foot under the table and nodded toward her brother. She’d never been very subtle.

I swallowed my food and wiped my mouth before I asked, “What’s the big news? You’re not moving, are you?”

Owen’s face paled as he took a deep breath. I couldn’t remember a time he’d ever been this anxious. Fuck. Maybe he was moving.

“No… I’m not going anywhere.” He set his napkin down and cleared his throat. I noticed his hand was shaking. “I should have said something sooner, and fuck, I—”

“Owen,” my mom gasped. “Please don’t swear at the table.”

Olive choked on a laugh, and I stepped on her foot.

“Sorry, Mom.” He rubbed his brow and shifted his gaze, staring at me when he spoke. “I should have said something, and believe me, I’ve always wanted to, but I was… scared as hell.” He held up his hand and my mother closed her mouth.

“Hell isn’t even a swear word,” Olive muttered under her breath and Owen rolled his eyes.

“Figures I couldn’t get through this without messing it up. I’m just going to say it.” He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving mine. “Shane and I are engaged.”

Our day at the zoo. Everything he’d said. It all clicked into place. I was an idiot. He’d tried to tell me.

“I knew it,” Mom crowed, her smile stretching wide across her face. You’d think she’d found out we won a million dollars. “I told you, James.”

“Wait…what?” Olive stared at her twin. “Why didn’t you ever say anything to me?”

Owen’s throat bobbed and he rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hands. “Shit… Liv. I didn’t know what you’d think, or if—”

“You know me better than that.”

“May I remind you, my lovely daughter, that this is not about you.” Mom gave my sister a sad smile. “It might hurt that he kept this from us, but imagine how he must feel, thinking he had to hide this from us for all these years. Owen…”

“I’m sorry, Mom.” His voice cracked and she leaned over to hug him.

A tear ran down Olive’s cheek, and my dad just smiled. I was stunned silent. Did I tell everybody now? Did that steal my brother’s thunder? Holy shit, how hard had it been for him all these years?

“I still wish you would have told me. Our twin connection…. This whole time it was a big fat lie.” She laughed and it was wet. “I love you. You know that.”

“I know.”

“You’re getting married,” she said, and he nodded.

The whole table stared back at him.

“Owen, I—” I swallowed, and he exhaled a shaky breath. “Congrats…This is… this is amazing news.”

“Thanks, little brother.” His smile was small, the secret between us connecting us in a way I would have never imagined. He gave me a private nod, a silent, you can do this, too. I wasn’t surprised when he said, “You know, you never told me how that date went.”

I laughed and mouthed the word fucker as my mom whipped her head in my direction. Owen hated attention. I should have known this would be a shared experience. There was no thunder to steal.

“Date? What is he talking about, honey? You’re dating already?”

“Already? Mom, it’s been over six months, the woman cheated on him. He’s entitled to a little—”

“Thanks, Olive... for your support.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “But I think I got it from here.”

“What are you all going on about,” Dad grumbled. “Why is everything such a goddamn secret?”

“I have a boyfriend,” I said, and the collective gasp I’d expected from my parents never came. “His name is Parker. We’ve been dating a little over six weeks.”

“They met online,” Olive said, proud of herself.

“Online?” my mom asked. “Is that safe?”

“It went well, then?” Owen asked, his crooked smile back in place as he lifted his glass of water to his lips.

“Yeah…” I swallowed again, hating all the eyes on me. “It went well.”

“He’s a good guy?” The concern on Mom’s face made my heart squeeze.

“So far, yeah. We’re figuring it all out.”

“But Lanie?” she asked.

“I’m bi-sexual.”

She looked at my brother and he held up his hands. “What? I had nothing to do with this.”

“I was going to ask you if you were bi-sexual too.” If we weren’t at the table, she would have added dumbass.

“Nope, gay as fu…”

“Don’t finish that sentence, young man.” Mom pointed her fork in his direction, and he pretended to zip his lips like a child.

“I’m still single and pathetic, if anyone cares,” Olive added, and reached for the pie.

“God, you’re not sleeping with your loser ex-husband again, are you?” Owen asked and she glared at him.

“No… I’m not.”

“For now,” I said, and she flipped me off.

“Do none of my children have manners anymore?” My mom threw up her hands, and my dad started to snicker.

He couldn’t stop. Laughing so hard his cheeks got redder by the second.

“James,” my mom admonished. “Have you lost your mind?”

He waved her off and caught his breath. Coughing a few times, he sputtered, “No, darling… but I have to say, this has been the best family meal I think we’ve ever had. Wouldn’t you agree, Van?”

I couldn’t stop the laugh from bubbling up my throat. I couldn’t believe Owen, or I, ever doubted our parents. The love they had for us, it smelled like peaches and cinnamon and laughter and smiles, and it wrapped around all of us like a warm blanket.

Definitely the best meal.

The best morning.

The best day.