"The Enchanted Cottage" -- Part 22
A walk through the woods.
Las Encantadas Estate, Erie, Pa., November 2006
"I'm nervous," said Justin as he and Brian set off from the cottage on their way to the main house.
"Afraid your pumpkin pie won't pass muster after you spent all day in the fucking kitchen, making the thing perfect?" said Brian. "No problem. We'll stay home and eat it ourselves. Instead of dried out turkey we can roast a couple of wienies in the fireplace. So let's go back."
"Brian! I'm not joking!" Justin replied. But he gripped the pie container tighter.
"Neither am I." Brian shoved his hands into the pockets of his long leather coat. "Fuck! I forgot my gloves. We have to go back."
"Come on, Brian! No stalling!" Justin urged. "Don't you want to meet my mother?"
"Not really," said Brian. "Damn, it's getting cold!"
"It snowed a little last night," said Justin, squinting up into the dark sky. "When I got up this morning there was a dusting on the grass."
"We'll be up to our waists in the white stuff before long. Lake Erie is a fucking snow machine." Brian stopped and fumbled inside his coat. "I guess I don't have time for one more cigarette before we get to the execution. I know Mrs. Minnett won't let me smoke inside."
"It's not an execution, Brian." Justin touched his arm. "It's a nice family-type Thanksgiving dinner with Mrs. Minnett, the Major, and my mom. It'll be great!"
"If you'd had my family, you'd wouldn't think it was so great. You'd want to avoid any suggestion of holiday dinners. I remember one Thanksgiving my old man didn't like the cranberry sauce, so he threw it against the dining room wall. My mother refused to clean it up, so it stayed on that wall for days, like a congealed abstract painting -- or a bloody crime scene. Finally, Claire couldn't stand it anymore and wiped the mess off. She should have left it. It's been almost twenty years, but I bet it would have still been there."
"I never know whether to believe the stories about your family," Justin commented. "They sound a little over the top."
Brian lifted one eyebrow. "That's the Kinneys -- always over the top. Maybe if you met them you'd understand me a little better."
"That's exactly why I want you to know my mother," said Justin. "To understand me."
"I understand you fine, twat. I don't need the whole Taylor clan in order to know you. You're the one I'm fucking -- not them."
"I miss seeing my mother," Justin admitted. "It'll be nice, Brian. Really. The only bad thing is that my sister Molly won't be there. She's with my father for Thanksgiving."
As they walked, a few flakes began coming down. The main house was lit up and looked welcoming in the distance.
"The house is beautiful at Christmas," said Justin. "Mr. Quigley cuts down a big tree and puts it in the parlor. Mrs. Minnett has tons of antique ornaments, some of them a hundred years old. Last year we played Christmas records on her old stereo while we decorated the tree. Mrs. Minnett loves the holidays, but I know she misses her son especially at this time of year."
"Yeah, it sucks like that," Brian sighed. "Which is why I always spend every holiday locked in my loft with a couple bottles of prime Bourbon. By the time I sober up -- bingo! -- the holidays are over!"
"Not this year," said Justin, linking his arm through Brian's.
"Here we are." Brian took a deep breath. "Do we have to knock or just walk right in?"
Justin pushed the front door open. "It's not like we're company. Mom! Mrs. Minnett! Major! We're here!"
Harvey barked and trotted into the foyer, wagging his tail.
"Hey, boy!" said Justin to the dog. "Looking forward to turkey?"
"He can have mine," said Brian.
Brian wiped his boots on the mat while Justin hung up their coats in the guest closet.
Mara came out of the side hallway, wiping her hands on her apron. "The Mrs. and her guests are in the library. Is it snowing again?"
"A little," said Justin. "When did my mom get here?"
"An hour ago," said Mara. "She and the Mrs. and Major Hillgrove are trying some of the new Charlot. Your cheeks are so red, Justin! Go in and get warm by the fire!"
"I brought a pie." Justin handed her the container. "It's pumpkin, like I made last year. It's my grandmother's recipe, except without all the liquor."
"I told him to put in plenty of Bourbon, but he refused," said Brian.
"I missed your help this year," said Mara, smiling. "But I managed somehow. And I put garlic in the mashed potatoes, the way you like it."
"Thanks!" Justin grinned. He watched Mara head back to the kitchen. "She didn't say anything. I mean... about... it."
"What's she supposed to say?" Brian nervously adjusted his sweater. "We better go in."
"This is it," said Justin, clutching Brian's hand. "Wait until Mrs. Minnett sees us! And my mom, too! That's the real reason why I was so nervous. But I'm fine now! It's going to be fine! Isn't it? Brian?"
"Shut the fuck up. And let's go."
Brian squeezed Justin's hand as they walked into the brightly lit library.
***
Las Encantadas Estate, Erie, Pa., November 2006
"I'm nervous," said Justin as he and Brian set off from the cottage on their way to the main house.
"Afraid your pumpkin pie won't pass muster after you spent all day in the fucking kitchen, making the thing perfect?" said Brian. "No problem. We'll stay home and eat it ourselves. Instead of dried out turkey we can roast a couple of wienies in the fireplace. So let's go back."
"Brian! I'm not joking!" Justin replied. But he gripped the pie container tighter.
"Neither am I." Brian shoved his hands into the pockets of his long leather coat. "Fuck! I forgot my gloves. We have to go back."
"Come on, Brian! No stalling!" Justin urged. "Don't you want to meet my mother?"
"Not really," said Brian. "Damn, it's getting cold!"
"It snowed a little last night," said Justin, squinting up into the dark sky. "When I got up this morning there was a dusting on the grass."
"We'll be up to our waists in the white stuff before long. Lake Erie is a fucking snow machine." Brian stopped and fumbled inside his coat. "I guess I don't have time for one more cigarette before we get to the execution. I know Mrs. Minnett won't let me smoke inside."
"It's not an execution, Brian." Justin touched his arm. "It's a nice family-type Thanksgiving dinner with Mrs. Minnett, the Major, and my mom. It'll be great!"
"If you'd had my family, you'd wouldn't think it was so great. You'd want to avoid any suggestion of holiday dinners. I remember one Thanksgiving my old man didn't like the cranberry sauce, so he threw it against the dining room wall. My mother refused to clean it up, so it stayed on that wall for days, like a congealed abstract painting -- or a bloody crime scene. Finally, Claire couldn't stand it anymore and wiped the mess off. She should have left it. It's been almost twenty years, but I bet it would have still been there."
"I never know whether to believe the stories about your family," Justin commented. "They sound a little over the top."
Brian lifted one eyebrow. "That's the Kinneys -- always over the top. Maybe if you met them you'd understand me a little better."
"That's exactly why I want you to know my mother," said Justin. "To understand me."
"I understand you fine, twat. I don't need the whole Taylor clan in order to know you. You're the one I'm fucking -- not them."
"I miss seeing my mother," Justin admitted. "It'll be nice, Brian. Really. The only bad thing is that my sister Molly won't be there. She's with my father for Thanksgiving."
As they walked, a few flakes began coming down. The main house was lit up and looked welcoming in the distance.
"The house is beautiful at Christmas," said Justin. "Mr. Quigley cuts down a big tree and puts it in the parlor. Mrs. Minnett has tons of antique ornaments, some of them a hundred years old. Last year we played Christmas records on her old stereo while we decorated the tree. Mrs. Minnett loves the holidays, but I know she misses her son especially at this time of year."
"Yeah, it sucks like that," Brian sighed. "Which is why I always spend every holiday locked in my loft with a couple bottles of prime Bourbon. By the time I sober up -- bingo! -- the holidays are over!"
"Not this year," said Justin, linking his arm through Brian's.
"Here we are." Brian took a deep breath. "Do we have to knock or just walk right in?"
Justin pushed the front door open. "It's not like we're company. Mom! Mrs. Minnett! Major! We're here!"
Harvey barked and trotted into the foyer, wagging his tail.
"Hey, boy!" said Justin to the dog. "Looking forward to turkey?"
"He can have mine," said Brian.
Brian wiped his boots on the mat while Justin hung up their coats in the guest closet.
Mara came out of the side hallway, wiping her hands on her apron. "The Mrs. and her guests are in the library. Is it snowing again?"
"A little," said Justin. "When did my mom get here?"
"An hour ago," said Mara. "She and the Mrs. and Major Hillgrove are trying some of the new Charlot. Your cheeks are so red, Justin! Go in and get warm by the fire!"
"I brought a pie." Justin handed her the container. "It's pumpkin, like I made last year. It's my grandmother's recipe, except without all the liquor."
"I told him to put in plenty of Bourbon, but he refused," said Brian.
"I missed your help this year," said Mara, smiling. "But I managed somehow. And I put garlic in the mashed potatoes, the way you like it."
"Thanks!" Justin grinned. He watched Mara head back to the kitchen. "She didn't say anything. I mean... about... it."
"What's she supposed to say?" Brian nervously adjusted his sweater. "We better go in."
"This is it," said Justin, clutching Brian's hand. "Wait until Mrs. Minnett sees us! And my mom, too! That's the real reason why I was so nervous. But I'm fine now! It's going to be fine! Isn't it? Brian?"
"Shut the fuck up. And let's go."
Brian squeezed Justin's hand as they walked into the brightly lit library.
***