“Do that shit on your own time, man.” Ryan rolled out a dirty chuckle. He pushed the door open, barged into the room, headed straight for Robin’s bed, and dropped onto it like a stone.
Robin heaved a sigh. “Hey, Ryan, come on in and make yourself comfortable.”
Sarcasm was wasted on Ryan. “Thanks.”
He glared at Ryan’s sneakers. “Get them off my comforter. In fact, take ’em off. You know what Mom says about wearing them in the house.”
Ryan snickered as he toed off his sneakers. “Yeah, like any straight guy would complain about shoes on his bed. And you thought we’d be surprised by your announcement, Mr. Prissy?”
Robin narrowed his gaze. “Being neat is not a sign someone is gay, all right?” He grinned. “Unless you think Granddad is gay too?”
“Nah, he’s just old.” Ryan’s eyes gleamed. “So, you’re really gay?”
“Hell no. I figured I’d say it for the hell of it.” Robin rolled his eyes. “Duh.” Then he realized he’d missed an insult. “Hey! I am not prissy. I’m neat, is all.”
Ryan burst out laughing. “Yeah right.” When he stopped, he inclined his head toward the door. “They took it really well, huh? I mean, they didn’t seem shook at all.”
Robin smiled. “I knew they’d be cool with it.” Well, he’d hoped.
“Oh my God. When Mom said it was ‘totes awesome’….” Ryan shook his head. “You don’t think she’ll come out with stuff like that when we bring friends back here, do ya? I swear, if she’d said you being gay was lit, I’d have barfed up my turkey and all the trimmings.” He cocked his head. “D’you think she’s going through a phase?”
“Huh?”
“You know, trying to sound like she’s our age.”
Robin gaped. “A phase? Where do you find shit like that?”
He shrugged. “Something I heard Mom say to Dad in the kitchen just now. They were talking about you.”
Wait—what?
“Back up there. What exactly did Mom say?” Never mind that Ryan had been eavesdropping. This was way more important.
Ryan screwed up his forehead. “Dad said something like, ‘Well, we both knew he’d tell us eventually.’ And Mom said, ‘Yeah, but it’s not like it’s a phase he’s going through. That boy was always going to be gay. You could see it even when he was little.’”
Robin sagged with relief. Heart attack averted.
“Hey!” Ryan sat up, his eyes twinkling. “Maybe you should be the one who’s going to college, and I should work with Dad.”
He guffawed. “You—build paddle canoes with Dad? You hate canoes. Judging by the fact you refused to shower from thirteen to eighteen, you hate the water. And we both know you’d hate being around Dad twenty-four/seven.” He grinned. “Are you sure you’re my twin?” It seemed looks weren’t the only thing they didn’t share.
Ryan laughed, but then his expression grew more sober. “Seriously though? We need to watch what we say around Mom.”
“What do you mean?” Ryan hesitated for a second, and Robin tensed. “No, come on. You started this.”
“The other day, I was on the phone with Deb. You remember Deb? We hung out with her in high school. We still keep in—”
“Losing the will to live here, bro.”
Ryan glared. “Okay! We were talking about something or other that I was gonna send her, so I asked for her email address.”
Robin frowned. “And? You’ve lost me. What does this have to do with Mom?”
“What I actually said was ‘Hey, I need your addy.’ Well, Mom’s face went white. When I was done with the call, she sat me down at the table and asked if there was anything I needed to tell her.” Ryan sighed. “Turns out she’d been on some website where someone said addy was short for Adderall.”
Robin drew in a sharp intake of breath. “She thought you were taking drugs?”
“I know her reaction was a little extra, but I think I gave her the fright of her life. When I saw where she was going, I headed her off pretty damn quick. As if I’d take drugs.”
Robin chuckled. “Yeah. You may be a dick, but you’re not a stupid dick.”
Ryan gave him a shove, and all conversation ended for about five or so minutes while they wrestled on Robin’s bed, the air filled with grunts and expletives. They ended up on the rug, where Robin got his twin in a head lock.
“Cut it out, you two!”
They froze at Mom’s yell. Robin let go of Ryan and sat with his back to the bed. “I’m too full to do this anyway.”
Ryan nodded. “Besides, you’d only have lost.” He joined Robin, both a little breathless from the exertion.
That deserved a derisive snort. “In your dreams.”
Ryan scrutinized him. “Bro? What you told Dad about not having a boyfriend… you were telling the truth, right? Because you’d tell me if there was someone, wouldn’t you?”
Robin threw him a mock punch. “Yes, I was telling the truth. There’s no one, but if Ryan Reynolds unexpectedly becomes available? I’ll be on the first bus outta here to hunt him down.”
Ryan laughed. “Okay, you got good taste. He’s definitely a goal.”
“And no, I will not tell you if I’m seeing someone.”
“Bro.” Ryan jutted out his lower lip and made puppy dog eyes.
Robin creased up. “And if that’s your attempt at pouting, give it up. That hasn’t worked on me since we were nine.”
“Dude, you suck. When we were juniors, I told you Libby Davenport and I were dating.”
That earned another snort. “Really? The whole of Lake Placid knew you were dating her, because you told everyone. I think you even posted about it on the village’s Facebook page.”
“Boys? Wanna get in here and watch a movie with us?” Mom hollered from the living room.
“What movie?” Robin yelled.
“Christmas at the Plaza.”
Robin gave Ryan a quizzical glance, and Ryan shrugged. “Never heard of it.”
“What channel?” Robin hollered.
“Hallmark.”
Ryan grimaced, but then the door opened, and Dad poked his head around it. “Guys?” he said in a low voice. “It’s Thanksgiving, you’re both here, so make your Mom happy and go watch a romantic movie with her. Because that’ll make me happy, and you wouldn’t begrudge your old man a little happiness, would you?”
Robin frowned. “How will it make you happy?”
Dad grinned. “Because then when I say I have to take a leak, she won’t wonder why I don’t come back before the end of the movie. I hate chick flicks.”
Chick flicks? God, what the hell are they reading to come up with this crap? But Robin couldn’t argue with his dad. Not on Thanksgiving. “We’re on our way.” He dug his elbow into Ryan’s ribs. “Aren’t we?”
“Ouch!” Ryan glared at him for a second but then got with the program. “Sure, Dad.”
He smiled. “You’re good boys.” Then he withdrew.