As if they’re summoned by Benny’s words, we hear feet on the stairs.
“I’ll be right back, honey.” A man’s voice, gravelly and warm and sounding a lot like Benny’s, echoes through the house.
We both turn toward the voice, and I feel Benny’s hand tighten on my shoulder. “That’s my pops,” he says softly, his voice brimming with love and pride.
I stand from the chair, and Benny tucks me under his arm. For a moment, I feel like a kid again, like we’re going to prom orsomething and he’s excited to show off his date to his parents. I plaster a grin on my face, hoping I don’t look terrified. But that grin melts into a mask of horror when I set eyes on the man coming toward the dining room.
The man has a full head of thick gray hair, its waves long like Benny’s but disheveled. His chest is completely bare, and as my eyes roam down his body, I realize he’s not just shirtless. He’s butt-ass naked. Nude. I’m talking not a stitch of clothes from his head to his bare feet. And he’s sporting a massive erection that bobs ominously with every step he takes toward us.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” Benny shouts and turns me toward him, clamping a hand over my eyes. “Pops, what the fuck?”
“Benny?” Benny’s dad says slowly, his voice disbelieving and low. But then, as if it hits him all at once, he starts cursing. “Oh shit. I’m sorry. Oh shit.”
“Pops, for fuck’s sake. Don’t apologize. Go put on some goddamn pants.”
“What’s going on, Mario?” And that must be Benny’s mom. I cover my eyes tight with my hands, lower my face into Benny’s warm plaid shirt, and do my almighty best not to laugh.
Then, Benny’s hand still clamped over my eyes, I hear a rush of footsteps, a lot of very loud voices talking over each other, and doors slamming. Only when Benny releases me do we look at each other, our eyes wide with shock.
Then we double over, breathless with agonizing, uncontrolled, gut-wrenching laughter.
15
BENITO
My parents sitbeside each other at the dining room table, holding hands. My mother’s face is beaming, her cheeks flaming red. Thank the sweet Lord almighty Ma is dressed, and Pops is not only covered from head to toe in clothing, but he’s also wearing his glasses. I wouldn’t mind a hood, a bucket, or an eye mask for myself. Anything to protect my eyes from any more unexpectedsights.
“This is new for us, you see,” Ma’s explaining. She seems a little embarrassed but mostly happy. Wish I could say the same for myself. “We didn’t know what to expect, and since I have the no-drinks-upstairs rule, your father had to come downstairs to get some water. And well…we thought we were alone.”
I hold up a hand, feeling simultaneously queasy and like I might burst into nervous laughter all over again. “Ma, I don’t want to know the details of whatever the hell that was that I walked in on. Could we just move past it and never, ever speak of it again? Except maybe in therapy. Because I’m scarred. Literally traumatized. All the good work you guys did raising me? Undone with one…” I wave my hand at Pops. “Just one look and decades of solid parenting down the drain.”
“Now, son.” Pops is looking at me over the rims of his glasses. “You know you’re always welcome here, but when you stop in at eight o’clock in the morning…”
“Pops.” I shake my head. “You have grandkids coming in and out all day. What if one of them were here?”
I’m not that mad, but I’m still weirded out. Reality-check time. My parents still have sex. Whoopee. Great for them. Am I okay with the idea that they still get it on? Yes, sure. But does that mean I want to see it happen? Did I ever, and I do mean literally ever, need to see my dad’s dick let alone my dad sporting wood for my ma?
Abso-friggin-lutely not.
I think I’m going to be sick.
Ma gets up from the table and clasps my hand. “Honey,” she says in a low voice. “This is what’s been going on with your father.”
“Just tell him, Lucia.” Pops is shaking his head. “It’s not like it’s going to stay a secret.” He points into his lap. “I don’t know how long it’ll be till this stuff wears off, but I’m not getting up from the table until it does.”
“Stuff? Wears off? What the hell did you two do?” I grimace, trying to block out visions of sex lubes and toys and massage oils out of my mind.
I might actually vomit. I cough into my hand.
“Benny,” Ma says, her voice soothing and sweet like she’s talking to a toddler and not her adult son. “Now that your father and I are empty nesters, we have been enjoying each other’s company. We’re like newlyweds again.”
I hear the tiniest little huff of a giggle from Willow, and I groan, a full-body sound that comes with a massive grimace. Willow seems to be taking her unwilling role in my parents’ sex life a little too well.
Talk about a memory that will last a lifetime. I can’t believe she hasn’t run screaming from the house already. I flick a glance her way, and her eyes are wide, her lips pressed together tight, either to hold back laughter or—if she’s feeling like me—the puke that threatens to spew out if I don’t get a grip.
“Ma, for fuck’s sake, please…”
“Benny. Language.” Ma’s face, bare of makeup for once, looks stern. She looks over to Willow. “I’m sorry. You must think Benny was raised in a barn.”
