Trippingly On The Tongue
When I woke in the morning, Zac was already gone. That didn’t surprise me; I figured he had slipped out early so that we wouldn’t get caught together. For a moment, I was a little disoriented, both because of the lack of him beside me and because I was in an unfamiliar bed. After taking a few seconds to adjust to my surroundings, I pulled myself out of bed and dug some clothes out of the dresser drawer that I had begun to fill the night before.
As soon as I opened the bedroom door, I was hit with the unmistakable smell of a veritable feast being cooked downstairs. I couldn’t pick out all the individual smells, but whatever they were, they had my mouth positively watering before I even made it to the bottom of the stairs.
When I reached the landing, I saw that most of the family – Zac, Taylor and two of his sisters who I thought were Avery and Zoe – was crowded around the television in the living room. The tv was tuned to the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade, and I couldn’t help smiling. I had always enjoyed watching the parade, and I liked that I would be able to keep that little bit of my own tradition even though this was a very different Thanksgiving than any I had ever celebrated before.
Zac glanced up at me from his spot on the couch with Taylor. “There’s probably some breakfast left if you hurry. Just some bagels and stuff. Mom couldn’t make time for breakfast today, too.”
“That’s more than enough,” I replied. “I’ve gotta save room for dinner, anyway.”
A quick trip to the kitchen revealed that there were, in fact, some bagels and donuts left. I couldn’t blame Diana for not wanting to cook breakfast too. She had already enlisted Jessica to help her with Thanksgiving dinner and the two of them were so engrossed with whatever they were mixing that they didn’t notice me at all. I grabbed a cinnamon raisin bagel and, after a bit of searching, located a glass and poured myself some orange juice. When I walked back into the living room, Zac gave Taylor a hard nudge and he scooted over so all three of us could fit on the couch.
“Sleep well?” Zac asked, a certain tone to his voice that I’m sure Taylor noticed, even if it flew over the girls’ heads. It was still enough to make me blush, even though we really had done nothing but sleep in each other’s arms.
I didn’t trust myself not to say something stupid, so I just shoved a bite of bagel in my mouth and nodded, hoping Zac got the hint to drop the subject. He seemed to, and we settled back onto the couch to watch the Rockettes.
As we watched the parade, Zac explained to me that his family always had more of a Thanksgiving lunch than dinner, and then everyone scattered around to do whatever they wanted for the rest of the day, with the assurance that there were plenty of leftovers to eat for the rest of the weekend. Usually he and Taylor would be recruited to help, along with the girls who Diana had already called for, but apparently they got a reprieve this year so they could “entertain their guest.”
Entertaining, in their world, mostly means cracking jokes about all the singers and dancers in the parade. I can think of worse ways to spend my day, though. Too soon, the parade winds down. Just after Santa makes his way up 34th Street, the doorbell rang out. Diana called out to us from the kitchen, asking if one of us can answer it and Zac jumped up to do so.
It was Isaac, of course, and his wife Melissa. As Zac ushered them into the living room, I couldn’t help but notice how even their outfits seem to match, and I wondered if they did it on purpose. If Zac and I are together long enough, will we start to dress alike, too? I couldn’t really picture myself in baggy jeans and old t-shirts or Zac in ruffly skirts, so I decided we were probably safe.
After a quick hello to all of us, the matching khaki couple headed to the kitchen. A few minutes later, Isaac returned on his own, mumbling something about how Melissa had been recruited to help with the cooking.
“How did you guys manage to get out of cooking?” Isaac asked, settling into the recliner next to the couch.
“Entertaining our guest,” Zac replied, punctuating the sentence by wrapping his arm tighter around me – as if there was any doubt that I was the “guest” in question.
“And you?” Isaac asked, turning his head toward Taylor.
Taylor shrugged and smirked. “I guess she’s my guest, too. Or mom just feels bad since I spend every other day of my life serving people food and drinks.”
“Lucky,” Isaac replied, then turned his attention to the television. He made some remark about the football game that had just begun, but I didn’t even bother trying to process it. I couldn’t have cared less about football, and I was pretty sure Taylor and Zac agreed. Zac did at least know the mechanics of the game, but I was pretty sure that was due to marching band and not any actual interest in the sport.
Unfortunately, Isaac didn’t seem willing to surrender the remote, so we were all forced to either watch the game or go volunteer our services in the kitchen. Laziness won out, and none of us budged an inch. I curled up into Zac’s side, wondering if I had time for a nap before we ate. I didn’t really need a nap, considering I hadn’t woken up that long ago, but the inside of my eyelids sounded far more interesting than a football game.
Somewhere around halftime, the couch began vibrating. It took me a few seconds to come out of my daze and realize the source was Taylor’s pants – specifically, his cell phone. Once he managed to wiggle the phone out of his pocket and look at the screen, his face turned bright red. He stuttered and stammered for a second, then jumped up and ran out of the room.
Isaac stared blankly at the space vacated by Taylor. “I’m sure I’ve asked this a million times before, but what the hell is wrong with our brother?”
“If I had to guess, I’d say he just got a phone call from Joey,” Zac replied. I glanced up at him and saw that he was immediately regretting his words. Isaac had surely seen Taylor and Joey together at the homecoming dance, but I don’t recall anyone explaining the exact nature of their relationship to him.
The way Isaac stared back at us with wide eyes made it very clear that he didn’t know, but had just put two and two together. “Joey’s not short for Josephine, is it?”
Zac and I both shook our heads. I didn’t know what Zac was thinking, but I suddenly felt very much like I was intruding just by being at their house and being a part of this conversation. It wasn’t my place at all, but the second I started to stand up, Zac wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me back down onto the couch.
“No, stay. Please,” Zac whispered to me, then turned back to Isaac. “Look, you should probably talk to Taylor about that…”
“Talk to Taylor about what?” Diana asked.
We all turned simultaneously to see her standing in the doorframe, wiping her hands on her apron. She was actually wearing an apron. And here we were, discussing her son’s sexuality. The three of us shared a quick look, none of us sure what to say. Finally, Isaac spoke, “Oh, I was just asking how his classes are going this semester.”
It was a flimsy answer, but it seemed to satisfy their mom’s curiosity. She gave him a quick nod and a smile, then said, “Well, the food is almost ready. It’s first come, first serve, so you might want to come on in and get in line.”
I figured most of that was for my benefit, since surely the two Hanson boys already knew how things were going to go. Zac assured her we would be in line soon, and she walked back out of the room leaving us in an awkward silence. We were still completely silent when Taylor walked back in, his face still bright red and a huge grin spreading across it.
“What?” Taylor asked, plopping back down on the couch next to me.
I eyed Zac cautiously, hoping he would take the hint and speak so that I didn’t have to. Luckily, he did. “Umm, food’s ready.”
I could tell by the look on his face that Taylor didn’t quite buy that – smarter than he looked, really – but he didn’t question it. Instead, he stood right back up and grinned even more. “Great. Let’s go eat.”
They weren’t kidding about Diana fixing a real feast for Thanksgiving. The younger kids had already beat us to the line, which stretched practically all across the kitchen – as did the selection of food on each and every counter top. As I made my way through the line, I piled up my styrofoam plate with all manner of delicious looking foods – turkey, stuffing, fluffy crescent rolls, macaroni salad and more.
The pile of food on Zac’s plate was twice as high as mine. I didn’t even know how he was able to lift it and not drop it, but he seemed to have it under control. With a big grin, he nodded toward the living room. “Let’s go back in there to eat. Less crowded.”
He was right. Most of their family had already taken their plates to the huge dining room table, so it was just the two of us, Taylor, Isaac and Melissa in the living room. Zac, Taylor and I crammed ourselves onto the couch again, while Isaac sat in the floor so that Melissa could have the recliner. None of really spoke much for a while, all too consumed by the massive amounts of food on our plates to even think about conversation.
Isaac was the first one to break the silence. “So what did Joey want?”
The words weren’t cruel, just genuinely curious, but I could feel Taylor tensing next to me as though he had been accused of something awful. His jaw clenched tightly, he replied in a careful measured attempt at a casual tone. “Nothing. Just wanted to say hi.”
Oblivious to the awkwardness, Melissa asked, “Who’s Joey?”
At that, everyone in the room tensed. It seemed none of us wanted to be the next to speak. Isaac stared up at his wife and shook his head slightly, as if to dismiss her question. “Just a friend of Taylor’s. Right, Tay?”
It was the worst attempt at a lie that I had ever heard. Melissa’s face showed that she didn’t buy it, and she looked to Taylor for a better answer. Instinctively, feeling Taylor’s nervous energy bubbling up, I scooted closer to Zac.
“Thank you ever so much for bringing up the subject, Ike,” Taylor spat. “I really wanted to have this conversation over Thanksgiving dinner. Really.”
“I’m not asking you to have any conversation. I’m sorry.”
His apology seemed genuine, but I feared we had already gone too far for Taylor to calm down. I hadn’t really seen him angry before. Although he didn’t really seem angry now, more like he had just reached the end of his rope. He set his plate of food in the floor with such shaky hands that I was shocked he didn’t spill any of it, and stood up.
“You know what? Whatever. Fine. Let’s have that conversation. Joey’s my boyfriend, okay?”
“Your what?”
I think we all nearly gave ourselves whiplash as we turned to find the source of those two words. Diana. Just as quickly, we turned back to Taylor, who stared wide eyed at his mother, his mouth hanging open but no sound coming from it. Without another word, he rushed from the room.