Sugar Heart Ch. 05

Cheeky boy. Delicious, naughty boy, so riled up as to cop a feel of my junk right here in the diner, right across from the two people who were the closest thing he had to parents. Every time I thought I loved Buddy as much as humanly possible, he gave me reason to love him a little bit more. My heart raced even faster. I couldn't take my eyes off of his.

"You two!" Joanna guffawed across the table. "Twitterpated as all get-out!"

We finally quit gazing at each other, and Buddy's hand surreptitiously returned to his own lap.

"S-s-sssorry," Buddy stammered, turning a deep shade of red that darkened his galaxies of freckles.

"Oh, don't you dare be sorry!" Joanna exclaimed, reaching across the table to ruffle his hair. "It's great seeing you so happy. You go on and be young and in love, and don't you mind anyone who might have a problem with that. There are too many miserable people on this planet—be the joy!"

A sheepish smile found its way to Buddy's sweet lips, and he leaned over to rest his head against my shoulder. I grinned at the gesture.

"Do I get any say in this?" Bernie griped, though I couldn't miss the amusement twitching at the corners of his mouth. He fished a few drippy slivers of ice from his water glass and tossed them at us. "There, cold shower for ya!"

Soon the four of us were laughing as Buddy and I attempted to pitch ice missiles back at Bernie, and his sister tried to get him in a headlock.

Joanna paid the bill and included a generous tip for the waitress who had patiently put up with four adults behaving like children. As we left the diner, Buddy took my hand and held onto it. It was the first time he'd done this quite so openly in public, and I felt as if my heart could burst.

While we would have liked to cloister ourselves back in Buddy's bedroom, we didn't have the opportunity. Bernie had a number of errands for us. It was Buddy's job to keep the groceries stocked, and their fridge was emptying quickly. Our relationship had somewhat interfered with his usual responsibilities, so neither of us dared to complain about having to go grocery shopping, nor about the several other small quests Bernie asked us to complete for him in order to pick up assorted parts and tools for his business. We even looked forward to it by the time we had set out in my car, finding a certain charm in doing little everyday domestic things as a couple. I was especially glad to be out and about with my boyfriend, now that he was brave enough to hold my hand in front of people. It didn't matter whether we were at an expensive restaurant or the local hardware store; it only mattered that we were together.

Our errands kept us out all afternoon, and we were starting to get hungry for dinner by the time we were in the midst of grocery shopping. We were following a list, but also loaded our cart with extra things because they looked delicious. I started feeling guilty for grabbing things off shelves—this wasn't my own kitchen I was stocking, and I couldn't afford to chip in much. I didn't want to make Bernie and Buddy pay to feed me.

I groaned aloud when we directed our cart into the freezer aisles.

"Don't let me anywhere near the ice cream," I warned.

Buddy giggled and blithely ignored me, pushing me along to direct me straight toward the Ben & Jerry's. "C-c'mon, let's... g-get some!" he encouraged, pulling the freezer door open and grabbing my favourite flavours.

"You're gonna be the death of me!" I chuckled. "Really, I shouldn't."

"Yes you sh-shhhould!" he pressed, waggling two pints in my face tauntingly. He smiled a particularly coy little smile, and lowered his voice: "I'll feed you... w-with my tongue...?"

I grinned at the thought of cold ice cream kisses from Buddy, and shifted closer to him. He didn't pull away as I pressed my front against his. Would he let me kiss him, right here in the grocery store? He looked like he might... until his eyes shifted away, and he spotted something that made his smile disappear. He turned away from me and dropped his eyes, placing the ice cream in the cart.

I turned my head in the direction he'd been looking, expecting some random, possibly judgemental stranger giving us the stinkeye, but my heart leaped up into my throat as I recognized the figure of my mother. She was perusing bags of frozen fruit. I didn't think she'd seen us yet.

"Buddy," I whispered very softly, "that's my mom."

He looked up at me, his freckled brow gently creased with worry. "I th-thought she looked f-fffamiliar." He swallowed and glanced at her again, and then back at me. "We should s-say 'hi', maybe...?"

My expression twisted. Say 'hi'? All I wanted to do was slip away to the next aisle and hope she didn't spot us. I shook my head quickly and motioned for us to move on.

Buddy stopped me, grabbing my arm. "T-talk to her," he whispered, his unfathomable grey-green-blue eyes taking on that stormy look of stubbornness that was so paradoxical against his bashful personality.

"I'm not ashamed," he added, taking my hand and lacing our fingers together. "Are you?"

I admired the hell out of his moments of bravery. Buddy knew exactly how badly my parents had reacted when I came out to them, and here he was, willing to stand by my side before the mother who had rejected me over my sexual orientation. "Fuck no, I'm not ashamed!" I affirmed, squeezing his hand. "I love you, you amazing, wonderful man."

My mother was walking toward us now, and I saw her pause, balking with recognition.

"Hi mom," I managed.

Her face seemed to crumple, trying to decide on a single emotion but only collapsing under the weight of all of them at once. "Hi Richie," she said softly, rolling her cart closer to ours. I watched her eyes flick over Buddy with almost morbid fascination. "How've things been?"

"They were pretty awful for a little while," I said honestly. "But just lately... absolutely phenomenal. It's true that sometimes you need to hit rock bottom before things really start to turn up."

Her eyebrows went up. She looked as if she wanted to express some politely positive emotion in response to my happiness, but couldn't quite manage it. If she suspected she was an instrumental part of my "rock bottom", she would have been right, and I couldn't blame her for feeling crappy about that. In fact, I sort of hoped she'd been feeling crappy. I didn't want to be the only one who had suffered over our last conversation.

"I should introduce you to my boyfriend," I continued. I could hear my own voice growing more confident. I stared straight into her wide eyes and did not waver. "Mom, this is Buddy. Buddy... my mother."

Mom stared at him in wonderment. She seemed to melt a little. For this I didn't blame her either—Buddy was pretty disarming, standing barely up to my shoulder, scrawny and boyish, covered in freckles, with wild ginger hair and a cute snub nose that made me think of Peter Pan. I don't know what she'd expected her son's boyfriend to look like—some ripped pornstar type, or a loud-and-proud diva covered in rainbows?—but Buddy certainly appeared to be a surprise to her.

"Hi," Buddy said softly. "H-hi... Mrs. C-C-Callahan."

He extended the hand that wasn't holding mine, and my mom slowly reached out to take it, giving him a little shake. She seemed very cautious now, and I wondered if it was because of his stutter. I could have told her he always stuttered, but the idea that she might be worrying she was scaring him half to death sort of amused me.

"Hello... Buddy," my mother said, and an actual smile spread across her face. She cocked her head, studying him very closely. "You look familiar. Where have I seen you before?"

"Oh... um... c-coffee shop!" he replied, grinning sheepishly. He looked up at me and giggled, jostling me with his hip. "Years I wait for you to n-nnotice I'm alive... and your m-mom r-remembers me after s-s-ssseeing me just... once?"

"I know, I'm an idiot!" I sighed, pouting at him melodramatically. "My mom may have given me her eyes, but the observational skills didn't come with them."

My mom bit down on her lower lip, looking almost amused.

"Hm... um...," Buddy stammered, glancing between the two of us, and then down at the crumpled grocery list Bernie had given us. "Oh, I... f-ffforgot... laundry soap. I'll be b-back in a minute."

He flashed me a quick smile and then withdrew his hand from mine and retreated from the freezer aisle. I grinned after him. Smart little guy, feeling out a perfect moment for me to have a bit of time alone with my mother, and picking a task that would take him all the way across the store.

"He's a sweetheart," I said, returning my attention to mom.

"Seems to be," she agreed. Her eyes dropped for a few moments, and when they returned to mine, they were full of tears. "Honey... it's been terrible since we fought. I can hardly sleep through the night. I've been thinking about the whole thing, constantly, reading my Bible, praying... trying to reconcile my faith with my love for my son."

I nodded slowly, keeping my expression neutral. "Come to any conclusions?"

"I didn't think so. But I started having... doubts. There are so many different people that have so many different things to say about God's position on homosexuality. I always thought it was a clear-cut issue, but... I'm just not sure anymore. And if I'm not sure... well, what right do I have to use it as a reason to keep me from my own sweet baby boy?" She sniffed and pulled a Kleenex out of her purse. "I'm sorry, Richie. I need to tell you I'm sorry. I think the only reason I couldn't handle this was because I was scared. I was scared for you, for our family... scared of something I didn't really understand. But now that I see you with your... your Buddy... I don't feel that there's anything to be afraid of anymore."

She smiled through her tears, and I stepped forward to pull her into a hug. She squeezed me tightly, shaking with emotion. I might not have agreed with her religious proclivities, but she had obviously been embroiled in a real struggle. She had suffered enough—I wanted peace. I wanted family.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"I forgive you."

"Thank you, honey." She pulled back and gave me a bleary smile. "I'm still not sure of much... and your dad's not likely to come around... but Richie, I want you to be happy. I didn't think I could be happy for you, but... I am. I really am."

I still had a lot of mixed feelings, but this was progress, and I was ready to accept what was offered. "That's great, mom. I'm glad you've been able to shift a little. It was a really horrible feeling, losing my family because of... love."

"I don't want to lose you. I'm going to do my best to understand. And this Buddy... gosh, he's a cutie, isn't he?" She smiled and wiped her face with the crumpled Kleenex. Bit by bit, the uncertainty was leaving her expression.

"He is," I chuckled, feeling a little flutter in the pit of my stomach. "He's the cutest! Mom, I love him—he's incredible!"

She held her hands to her heart and laughed. "I've never seen you like this before!" she marvelled. "I think I like it."

Buddy returned lugging a great big jug of laundry soap, and I helped him heave it into the cart. My mom beamed at him.

"Buddy... I truly am glad to see my son looking so happy. You must be taking good care of him."

Buddy blushed and grinned back at her, clinging bashfully to my side. "W-well... he t-takes such... good c-c-care of me."

After a few more minutes of pleasant chat, we all had to get moving, wary of our cold groceries getting too warm. My mother hugged both of us before she went on her way, which made Buddy smile especially brightly.

I felt bad about the Ben & Jerry's again and tried to put it back, but Buddy insisted I must have it, that he wanted to spoil me. In the end, I couldn't refuse him.

Joanna stuck around for dinner, and it seemed like she planned to stay the evening as well. While Buddy and I took care of the dishes and finished putting groceries away, Bernie and his sister settled in front of the TV. I heard them talking loudly about a hockey game.

I couldn't help staring at Buddy's cute little round ass as he bent over to grab things out of grocery bags and load them into cupboards. When he looked around and caught me ogling him, he reddened and grinned.

"You looking at... at my butt?" he whispered, letting his eyes slide down my body. They paused halfway.

"You looking at my package?" I retorted, winking. It was clear we were both thinking back to what we'd been up to this morning, both thinking about picking up where we'd left off.

I edged closer to him, and he moved up to meet me in the middle of the kitchen. He hooked his fingers through the belt loops of my jeans to keep me close to him as he inclined his head to beg me tacitly for a kiss. As our lips met I felt him pull harder on my jeans. His breathing intensified. Buddy the Beast had made a sudden appearance. Usually he was so careful when anyone, even if it was only Bernie, was in the house, but sometimes he just turned recklessly ravenous, and I adored these moments.

He began to push me with his skinny little body, and I let him, backing up until I was hard up against the refrigerator. I widened my stance and slid down until my hips were level with his—ever since the day we'd first become an item, the day he'd passionately dry humped me in the bathroom of the coffee shop where he worked, this had become an automatic thing for me every time he shoved me against a wall. I wanted to feel his little bulge grinding against mine.

Bernie's heavy plodding footsteps in the hallways were impossible to mistake. Buddy tore himself away from me just as he entered the kitchen, though Bernie still flinched when he saw us there, red-cheeked and breathless.

"You boys!" he grumbled, rolling his eyes dramatically. "I'm gonna have to start keeping spray bottles fulla' water around here."

He mimed a trigger motion, complete with spritzing sound effects, as if we were a pair of cats he was trying to keep from jumping up onto the kitchen counter.

"S-s-s-sorry!" Buddy forced out from behind his hands.

Bernie grabbed him in an embrace that was halfway between a hug and a headlock, and ruffled his hair aggressively. "Now listen, you," he said, turning Buddy to face him. He glanced my way and beckoned me over. "You too, Richie."

Curious, I drifted over and stood next to Buddy. Bernie placed a thick hand on each of our shoulders.

"I'm alright with you guys, okay?" he said gruffly. The look on his face suggested it was taking a lot of effort for him to say what he wanted to say at the moment. "I give y'a hard time, but it's bluster, yunno? I like you both fine, and what y' got goin', it's... well, it's good. Good stuff."

Buddy and I both smiled gratefully, but cautiously. We could sense there was a "but" ahead.

"Listen," Bernie continued, "I got some hockey buddies comin' over to watch the game. I'm not gonna ask you to pretend like yer just pals—that'd make me an asshole, and I know it. But I just wanted you both to be... aware."

Buddy and I glanced at each other. We hadn't even paused to wonder why Bernie had had us pick up four bags of chips and two cases of beer on top of the regular groceries.

"So..." I hesitated. "So these hockey friends of yours... they don't already know Buddy's gay? And... you think they might not react well to a couple of dudes being cuddly around the house?"

Bernie let go of our shoulders and ran his hands over his bald head as he leaned back against the counter. "I dunno, really. Some shit just don't come up with friendships that're mainly about sports. For all I know none of 'em will give a crap, but on the other hand, they might be homophobes."

It took me a few moments to process this, but I could feel Buddy bristling next to me.

"I get it!" he snapped, crossing his arms stiffly. "Suh-suh-sssweep us under the rug for your huh-homophobe friends... so you can enjoy your t-t-t... testosterone fest in peace?"

"Buddy—for fuck's sake, I didn't mean that!" Bernie exclaimed, reddening. "I don't want you to disappear. In fact, I'd love y' both to watch the game with us. I'm just saying, I dunno what they're gonna think. I dunno! I thought you should be... forewarned."

"About b-bigotry in my own home?" Buddy charged onward, his whole body rigid with anger. "I thought you... supported me!"

"I do!"

"But you'll... you'll... have friends who are anti-gay? And welcome them in your home? Our home?"

Bernie was flustered and very flushed now, looking caught between embarrassment and exasperation. "Well shit, boy, maybe you've forgot how much we both loved your ma, regardless—!"

Buddy dropped his arms and flinched back. I held my breath, watching him react. I knew Buddy's mother hadn't spoken kindly of gays, and that he'd kept his secret from her right up through her dying day. I felt my heart sink as his eyes grew shiny with tears.

Buddy clenched his jaw, sniffed sharply, and turned to flee the kitchen. A moment later, we heard his door slam.

"Shee-yit," Bernie muttered, pacing back and forth slowly. "He's a tender kid. I shouldn't a' brought up his ma."

"Hm," I mumbled, plopping into a chair next to the dinner table. Although I wanted to go and comfort Buddy, I also knew that excessively coddling him wouldn't help him. Moreover, I actually felt sorry for Bernie. He had never been a dad, and had never asked to be, but he'd been open-heartedly looking after Buddy for years even though he obviously had limited capacity for dealing with sensitive people.

Joanna ventured up the hallway and poked her head into the kitchen, frowning. "You guys okay?"

Bernie nodded and waved her away with a waggle of his arm. She looked exasperated, but returned to the television.

I sighed and looked up at Bernie, curious. "Did you know Buddy was gay, when his mom was alive?"

He rubbed his chin, his callused fingers making a faint scraping noise against his stubble. "I had my suspicions, but I didn't really know 'til later. I think it was a subject we all tried to avoid." He looked back at me, conflicted. "You ever just completely avoid certain things with yer friends, 'cause there are some things you don't really wanna know?"

I nodded. "I pretty much lost all my friends when I came out. It sucked. But I think it was my fault for choosing idiots for friends. I just wanted to fit in. But that's high school. Good riddance."

"Yeh. I'm fuckin' forty years old—I don't want none o' that drama bullshit."

I chewed on my bottom lip as I mulled a few things over. "Maybe Buddy might feel differently... but I don't think I actually care if any of your friends don't like that I'm dating him, so long as they don't give us any trouble."

Bernie shrugged. "Not like they'd try to beat ya with a shovel or somethin'. They're not like that. They're good guys, with families. If any of 'em make smartass comments about gays, I don't mind giving 'em a piece of my mind. But I'm not gonna kick 'em outta my house for disagreeing with me. For disrespect, though, that's different. I'd draw a line at name-calling. Respect is non-negotiable."

I nodded and pushed myself out of the chair. "I think that's fair. Respect, really, is all I need from most people, regardless of their beliefs. I only wish people who 'disagree' with my sexuality would be a bit less like my dad, who thinks it's okay to equate me with pedophiles."

Bernie exhaled noisily through partially pursed lips. "Well. That ain't right."

I shook my head slowly.

"Say... you feel like talkin' to Buddy for me? We been through a lot together, that kid and me, but you've got that soft touch that just don't come natural to me."

I agreed to this, and turned to leave the kitchen.

"Richie!" he called after me. When I glanced back, he continued soberly: "Yer a good kid. And a smart cookie."