Free Vincent's Thanksgiving Date by R. Cooper Page A

were little and mom was overreacting to everything.” Judith mumbled something else he didn’t quite catch. Then she sighed. “They look good.”
    “You think so?” Vincent bit his lip. “The crust on the apple is--”
    “They look good,” Judith repeated, louder. “If there’s any left, I want some. And oh yes, Vincent, I will be down there in the next few days, because clearly you and I need to talk about some things.”
    “I have to take a shower now.” Vincent cut her off as quickly as he could. “Get dressed.”
    “To go where? The parade is still on.” Without seeing his sister, he knew she had narrowed her eyes.
    “I’ll talk to you later. Say hi to everyone for me.” He hung up before he could change his mind. Judith was going to ask him about this. He physically could not tell her he’d panicked and decided last minute to not go over to Cory’s. She would be so disappointed. This way was as good as burning his bridges to ensure he’d take those pies across the hall.
    But he went into his medicine cabinet and got a single pill, then cut it in half and took it with his coffee before he got in the shower.
    He emerged from his bedroom in a light green buttoned shirt and jeans, and was in the middle of debating if his darker green sweater vest made him look too dressed up or not dressed up enough, when someone knocked on his door.
    Nerves instantly formed a knot in his stomach. He shivered and left the vest on the couch.
    Through the peephole he saw a small, svelte Asian man, wearing a hat that was some kind of stuffed turkey dressed like a pilgrim. Somehow, Vincent didn’t think anyone in a turkey hat was a threat, and in any event the man looked vaguely familiar. “Hello?”
    “Oh hey, good, you’re in there. You wanna open the door? I have been sent to help you. Also I was driving Cory nuts.” The man perked up when Vincent unlocked the door, then stepped back as he opened it. He was more familiar when not viewed through a peephole. Vincent had glimpsed him around the complex once or twice, usually in the parking lot. He was generally well-dressed, though Vincent seemed to recall him in shorts, and a lot of bare, tan skin. The man swept a look over him. “I’m Ricky Phuthong, and you’re Vincent Green.”
    “Thomas, er, yes. Green.” Vincent had never introduced himself by his nom de plume before. “You’re Ricky?” Honestly, the conventions were so overwhelming to him that he didn’t remember the details. He had noticed the scantily dressed men working the booths around the gay romance sections, but, to his shame, not their faces.
    “Can I come in?” Ricky asked, then came in anyway when Vincent made an articulate noise. “It’s great to meet you. I didn’t know people wrote anything about bisexual characters until your books. I mean, sometimes they say they do, but when you read the books it’s barely there. Past tense. Hinted at. Oh, uh, Cory said he forgot to tell you when to come over, and if you were worried about it, I’m supposed to tell you that you’re welcome any time.”
    “I… Cory said that?” Vincent followed Ricky inside his apartment.
    Ricky made a beeline for the framed poster. “This is so cool.” He pulled off his hat, scratched at his short black hair, disrupting the style, then plopped the hat back on again. His shirt was form-fitting and his slacks were pressed. It made the hat even more incongruous. “I told Cory I would go easy on you, but oh my god, can we talk about Lando please?”
    “Cory said to go easy on me?” Vincent was having trouble focusing on the relevant information. “Lando? You mean his cases? I can’t discuss anything new yet.”
    “There’s new stuff coming?” Ricky skipped in place, with way more energy than Vincent knew how to deal with. He talked too fast for Vincent to have any time to worry about his responses. “Tell me more. Wait, don’t, because I want to talk about him first. Because you do this thing where he