Free Child of My Right Hand by Eric Goodman

asked?”
    She didn’t respond, and as easy as that, they fell in step and moved to the next rack. “My daughter, Lizzie, has the same relation to Russell Crowe. After three viewings, I refused to pay for her to see Gladiator and she began using her own money. This fall she’s been listening to the soundtrack on her computer and absolutely mooning over him.”
    â€œYou think I’m mooning over Kevin Spacey?”
    Jack nodded and she beamed at him.
    â€œWhat about you, Jack?”
    â€œI’m not mooning over Kevin Spacey.”
    â€œNo, what movie are you renting?”
    There was something about her. Maybe just that she was so small and direct, where Genna was neither. He said, “Simon has a friend over, and they want Practical Magic .” Jack longed to say more. Marla was charming, and he felt charmed, no doubt about it, but that was all he was going to let himself feel. He believed Marla would understand how strange it was for Simon to have a boy over who might be his boyfriend. She might even know Rich. “I also need a movie for the grown-ups.”
    At his first oblique mention of Genna, the guidance counselor checked her watch. She started towards the front counter, then asked over her shoulder, “Have you seen Fight Club ?”
    â€œNot for Genna. Blood’s okay, but no psychological pain.”
    â€œI think you’d like it.” Marla raised her small hand and waved. “Night, Jack. Say hi to Simon for me.”
    He rented Practical Magic , That Old Feeling (a Bette Midler romantic comedy they’d seen before and liked), Three Kings , and because the fourth was free, Jack checked out Fight Club . Driving home, he felt guilty and decided it would be better all around if he didn’t tell anyone he’d run into Marla.

chapter 5
    For a little guy, Rich had a big penis. At least Simon was pretty sure he did. He’d felt it Friday night through Rich’s jeans, till Rich pushed his hand away.
    â€œYour parents are home.”
    â€œThe door’s locked.”
    Rich gave him the Look: almost a smile, but not. Not happy, not sad. Just Rich. His eyes closed and slowly opened, but the whole time he felt as if Rich were looking right at him.
    â€œI don’t care.”
    Simon almost answered, They don’t care. They know and they don’t care, but he didn’t think Rich would believe him. He wasn’t sure he did. Maybe Mom but not Dad, who still invited him to the gym to work out on weekends. What was that about except being a different kind of guy, an athlete like Uncle Russ? Unless it was about losing weight, another forbidden subject, his weight or what Dad called his atrocious diet.
    Even if his parents were totally okay with the gay thing, which he didn’t see how they could be, since he wasn’t—he loved kids and how could he have any?—it was unappealing to have their permission to cop a feel of Rich’s cock. So he didn’t really mind Rich pushing his hand away, so long as Rich kept kissing him. Rich’s tongue snaked around his, then beat against his lips like a moth’s wings, like a clever little finger, while Simon’s big body lay on top of Rich’s smaller one, pressing down, pressing down, pressing down.
    Rich had said he’d call Sunday morning when he returned from visiting his mom. Sunday afternoon Simon called Rich’s dad’s trailer every hour but didn’t leave a message because Rich had asked him not to. Sunday night Simon phoned Rachel to ask if she’d heard from Rich, but no, all quiet on the Rich front.
    Monday, Simon faced the bathroom mirror. He was considering letting the blond grow out then cropping back to his natural color, but he’d been dying it for two years and wasn’t sure what that natural color was. He rubbed gel between his palms and laced his fingers through his wet-from-the-shower hair getting the one-inch spikes just right. Last