Jem’s hand. “You must be the new boyfriend we’ve heard about.”
“That’s right,” Jem said.
“No, it’s not right,” Tean said. “He’s just a friend. His name’s Jem.”
“I am super gay, though,” Jem said.
The man laughed. “Well, that’s Linda, and I’m Robert. I’m this guy’s dad.” He grabbed Tean’s shoulder and shook him with a good-natured excess of energy that made Tean’s head wobble. “Look at this guy, already with the kids. He loves kids. Just like his sisters, this one.”
Jem couldn’t help it; his eyebrows shot up, but when he looked at Tean, Tean just shook his head.
“Do you need any help, Mom?” Tean said.
She offered a smile over her shoulder. “No, sweetheart.”
“That’s one thing this guy can’t do.” Robert bellowed a laugh as he clapped Tean on the shoulder again. “He can do anything his sisters can do except cook.”
“What about his brothers?” Jem said.
“Leave it,” Tean whispered.
Robert didn’t seem to have heard. “How’d you guys meet?”
“Boy,” Jem said. “That’s a story.”
“Come on, let’s introduce you to the whole gang.”
“Hold on, Robert,” Linda said, drying her hands and turning to face them. “I want to say hi before you drag him off. It’s very nice to meet you, Jem. Let me get a look at you.”
It was easy to see how Tean had inherited a mix of his parents’ features. He had gotten his Latino coloring from his father, the dark hair, the thick eyebrows, the brown skin. But he had his mother’s thin build, her full lips, the delicate bones in his face and hands. Linda was still beautiful, even more so when she smiled and hugged her son and kissed his cheek. Then she took Jem’s hand and shook it once.
“Pleased to meet you both,” Jem said.
“Oh, he has such nice manners,” Linda said to Tean. “He must have been raised right.”
“He wasn’t,” Tean said.
Both his parents laughed.
“Come on,” Robert said. “I want you to meet everybody.” And before Jem could object, he had an arm around him, dragging him toward the aluminum storm door at the back of the house.
“I’ll be right out,” Tean said.
Behind him, Jem heard mother and son lower their voices.
“It’s not as much,” Tean was saying, “because I had some extra expenses.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Linda said, “I promise it’s just this month. They’re going to turn off the gas if we don’t pay.”
“I know,” Tean said.
“Things are really picking up for your father.”
“I know.”
Jem glanced back once before they reached the storm door, and he saw Linda standing with a check in her hand. And then Jem thought about when he had first met Tean, about the check register with monthly checks written out to cash in large sums, about the crappy apartment when Tean should have been able to afford better, about the crooked glasses that wouldn’t stay on Tean’s face, about the clearance-rack clothes, about the way Tean had shouted—shouted, when he almost never raised his voice—when Jem said something about money. And Jem knew how this game worked, knew the rules. Things were always really picking up. Things were always right on the edge of getting better. But this month, it was the gas. Or the water. Or the electric. Or an emergency repair for the car, because otherwise, your father won’t be able to go to work. On and on and on.
Then they hit the storm door and went out into the yard.
Then the introductions. Amos, Corom, Timothy, Seth. The four brothers had more of their father’s build, although Seth was closer to Tean in size. They had the same bushy eyebrows, and although they kept their hair buzzed short like their father, Jem would have bet money that it was just as wild as Tean’s when it grew out. The sisters, Sara and Miriam, were night and day. Sara looked like Linda, and she’d inherited her mother’s fair skin, her slender frame, and her large, sensitive eyes. Miriam was stout, with a cloud of frizzy dark hair, and out of the six siblings, she was the only one who ever laughed or smiled. There were in-laws too—wives and husbands, all safely heteronormative—and they introduced themselves as well, but something was buzzing in Jem’s brain, the sound like a band saw.
Jem shook hands with everyone, and after a few awkward attempts at conversation—What do you do? Retail—the family seemed to silently decide to ignore him, and they went back to their normal rhythm. Robert talked over everyone. Sara said something about her youngest’s school; Robert knew all about preschool. Timothy