Johnny’s expression falls, and he lets out a sigh. “You know I don’t like that.”
“I know, but it’s there, and I need it. Please?”
“What the fuck does he want to use Johnny’s head for?” Ezra hisses at me.
“Oh, you’ll see,” I say, pointing at the pair.
Jaden opens his hand, revealing a tube of bubblegum-pink lip gloss. He uses his other hand to grab Johnny by the back of his neck, tilting his head down so he can use Johnny’s shiny scalp as a mirror. I can’t see Johnny’s reaction, because his face is aimed at the floor, but judging by the way his hand is balled into a fist, I think he hates it just as much as he did when we were in Texas.
The lip gloss Jaden uses is the same brand as the ones Ezra makes me buy him twice a week. I don’t know how the fuck Ezra goes through so much of the shit, but if my boy says he needs it, my boy’s going to get it.
I saw Jaden last Christmas, and he still looked the same as he did growing up, so who is this imposter masquerading as my son?
Jaden leans in and presses a kiss against Johnny’s scalp, leaving a bubblegum-pink lip print on top of his head, then he takes a step back.
“I’m not sure what the hell that was about,” Johnny says, standing upright, eyeing Jaden curiously. “But it’s damn good to see you.” He pulls Jaden in for a bear hug, making Jaden’s eyes bulge.
“Watch the hair.”
“I love the hair,” Johnny says, pulling away and smiling. “You look great, kid.”
“You really think so?”
Johnny nods. “It’s different, but it’s a good different.”
“Buddy,” I say, still trying to make sense of his new look. “Is Mom with you?”
He nods. “She’s getting the luggage.”
“Luggage?” Ezra asks, his voice a little too rude for my liking, so I shoot him a warning look. He just blinks at me like I’m stupid before turning his attention back to my son. “Why do you need luggage?” While it’s an important question, there’s a more pressing matter at hand.
“You’re making your mom carry your luggage?” I stare at him in disbelief. “I raised you better than that, son. She’s a lady.”
He nods. “She is. I never claimed to be a gentleman, though.” He skips to the love seat and plops down beside Ezra, pointing at the puddle in Ezzy’s pants. “Is that cum? Did you shoot in your shorts?” He asks the question so casually it catches me off guard, and I take a stumbling step back. Who the fuck is this kid? This ain’t the same Jaden Jenkins I sent off to California so he could go to UCLA and explore his bisexuality. That kid was more like me than his mother, and now he almost seems like her clone. I don’t mind the change, I just wasn’t expecting it, and now I feel like a stranger in my own family. “That’s nasty.”
“You’re nasty,” Ezra snaps back. “Bubs, either you make him stop talking to me, or I will.” He leans down, reaching for something under the sofa.
“Nope,” Johnny says, rushing around the sofa and diving to the floor. “We ain’t doing that again.” He reaches under the sofa and pulls out a banana-yellow balloon.
“That’s mine!” Ezra shouts.
“And I’ll bust it on your face if you don’t fuckin’ chill, dude.”
Ezra licks his lips. “You want to bust on my face, Johnny?”
Johnny’s eyes darken. “Ez,” he warns.
“You can. Any time. Any place.” He licks his lips. “Right now, if you want.”
Jaden snorts a laugh. “I wouldn’t bother with that one,” he tells Ezra. “I’ve thrown myself at him hundreds of times, and he’s yet to take the bait. Trust me, chasing after straight boys only leads to heartache.” My son looks over at me. “It’s like that poem you used to recite so I would fall asleep.”
“Now I lay me down to sleep?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “It’s a heartache,” Jaden says, his voice light and airy like a medieval bard. “Nothing but a heartache.”
Ezra’s got his head cocked to the side, confused. “That’s not a poem. That’s Bonnie Tyler.”
“To sleep, perchance to dream,” I say, shrugging my shoulders.
