FOUR
Future
I saw it first in my parents’ house. The look that I didn’t quite understand at first, but it was building within. He of course knew it, too. I subconsciously did, I just didn’t know which one.
Present
“Ready Baby Ruth?” he grinned sheepishly.
“Stop calling me that, I don’t even like those anymore.” I snared.
“What’s the matter? Our baby grown up so fast?” Cory said, holding my head in place from behind my seat as he tried to plant a kiss on my cheek.
“Gross!” I said, wiping my cheek.
“So you’re going lesbo on us now, Cory?” Cody laughed.
When Cody and Cory were five, and Riley was four, and Cameron and I were three, Cory told everyone that he was gay. We were watching TV; a man wearing a bright green GAY PRIDE t-shirt described gay people as fearless, empowering, and inspirational. We were kids, we didn’t know what most of he said meant, Cory only knew fearless, to us it was a big word. He said he was fearless. “Mommy, daddy! I am gay!” he said on and on until Mr. Miller finally explained to him what being gay actually meant.
None of us ever let that one go. Even Mommy Cassie would call him a ‘her’ sometimes.
“C’mon guys! That was fourteen years ago!” he mumbled, annoyed. We all cracked up.
“I’m hungry.” Cameron piped up as we neared a gas station. I had to laugh.
“Aren’t you always?” Cody smirked.
We just got breakfast and left. But Cameron piped up for food with every gas station and truck stop that we passed by.
“In this rate, we’re going to have to sleepover in the St. Georges’ residence” Riley chuckled on the thirteenth time that Cameron asked for food.
We got to my house around noon. It was the same old house, but it looked run-down and abandoned. The grass on the lawn was already high, we’ve been gone a couple of weeks before they met that accident. I wouldn’t be surprised.
The inside of the house was dusty, just like always when we got back from the house on the hill. Mom would give dad and me hell for an entire week. She called it spring-cleaning, we called it hell week.
I got a little nostalgic when I stepped in. The boys were poking around, dusting things. I sat on the kitchen chair, reminiscing breakfast with my mom and dad; the smell of pancakes, and bacon, and brewed coffee (the cheap kind).
“You okay?” Riley was standing on the counter that separated the kitchen and the living room.
“Yeah, just a little sad.”
“Aw, we’re here for you.” He said rounding the counter to my comfort.
“I know.” I squeezed his hand that was on my shoulder.
My bedroom looked exactly like how I’ve left it. It was small compared to my bedroom in the Millers’ home. It was almost the same size as my bathroom there. My twin bed was perpendicular to the door; my small study table was at the foot of it. By study desk, I meant vanity. I made it both ways. My jewelry box was still there, and all my notes were still in the drawers. My closet was built-in in the wall, where most of my clothes were still hanging in. The curtains were closed.
