And, alright, that might be ateensylie. I can’t say as Ineverhave. I mean, after Evan came out, Iobviouslyhad questions. Like, first of all, how had he hidden all that for years? Was it so easy to be attracted to men and just never admit it? If so, had I ever been attracted to men, and just never acknowledged it? I mean, of all theGQcovers I languished over back when I was young enough to not have to pop ibuprofen like candy, it was the David Beckham covers that piqued my interest the most.
Granted, I think Ev knew he was attracted to dudes way back when, but he covered it up by asking Miranda out. Then he accidently knocked her up and felt like it was the upstanding thing to do by marrying her and raising their family together. So, I don’t think his discovering his own sexuality was something that happened later in life, I think that his later-in-life realization was just a byproduct of his circumstances.
Me, on the other hand? Well, I think it’s common knowledge that I’m a bit… well, fucking clueless. There have been a few times, at the bar,fightingwith Gordy—not flirting—where I’ve found myself starting to sport wood for no goddamned good reason. I’m pretty sure I’ve always attributed it to being drunk, horny Gannett coming out to play—too confused to know what to do withthe adrenaline.
And yes, adrenaline boners area thing. I used to get them all the time back in high-school, when I played football.Youtry getting tackled to the ground by a sweaty brute and not pop a chubby.
But herein lies the ultimate question,haveI been flirting with Gordy? Like, is there some sort of attraction there? Is that why I find myself poking the bear, night after night? Does causing him ire provoke me?
No, that’s just me getting underneath his skin for shits and giggles. It has to be.
Marcus snickers. “That far-away gaze tells me youdolook at dudes like that.Someoneclearly has you all twisted up in knots right now.”
“You guys don’tseriouslythink I flirt with Masterson, do you? I mean, that’d suggest that perhaps I’ve reached a whole new level of dumbassery. And besides, it’s pretty clear that the man doesn’t swing that way. Not with the shit he gave my brother about it, anyway. No, I’m not flirting with him,” I ramble, not sure who I’m trying to convince more at this point—the guys or myself.
Caleb smirks, signing something with quick hands. I look to Marcus to interpret for me, since there’s no way I can keep up. “He says, ‘Andthereit is. That someone is GORDY.’”
And, even though I know there’s nothing wrong with Caleb’s hearing, I reply with one of the few signs I’m overly familiar with. Double birds.
“Fuck you both,” I grumble. “I just want him to be my friend. That’s all.”
Marcus snorts. “Right. Keep telling yourself that.”
Aaand we are moving forward…with maturity. Grown ass men in their thirties should know how to cook breakfast for supper, right? How hard can this possibly be? You pour the batter on the griddle, you flip it when it starts to bubble a little, you pull it off the griddle.Boom, pancake.
I repeat the process Ma told me, like a mantra in my head. Pouring, flipping, pulling—BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
“Fuck! My bacon!” I yelp. “The sprinklers! Shit, shit, shiiiiit! Not again!”
I dive towards the window, flinging it open and upending the baking sheet I was setting the hockey pucks—erm, pancakes—on so I can use it to fan the smoke out the window.
Aaand we’re moving forward…with pizza delivery.
“What do you girls want on your pizza?” I ask my wide-eyed children.
“I’m telling Mumma you swore,” Tati professes.
“No you’re not,” I hum. “You’re accepting another dollar in the swear jar, and you’re keeping it a secret.” I’m not above a little bribery to keep them from giving Sarah more ammunition to use against me. Besides, if we start referring to the swear jar as asavings account, it’s instantly more mature, right? Right.
“What’s da naughty word dat means ‘poop’ again?” Terra asks, cocking her head to the side.
“Shit?”
She holds out their swear jar. “I want anuddah dollar too.”
I narrow my eyes at her, forking over more for their college tuition. “I just got hustled by a six-year-old, didn’t I?”
She giggles and nods.
“Anchovies on Terra’s pizza it is then!” I declare, using mybest regal voice.
Her nose crinkles when she makes a disgusted face. “Ew.”
I chuckle. “We going with the standard pepperoni, or are we adding veggies? I think your mom would prefer it if I got some greens in you somehow...”
“Yeah, but we aren’t at Mumma’s right now,” Tati notes.
I wobble my head. “That’s right, but… that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t mind some of her rules, right? Veggies are good for you, so she’s just trying to keep you healthy.” There. Very mature. Respecting Sarah’s wishes while the girls are under my roof. Though, I’m sure it’ll go unnoticed.
