Chris – Erick’s Boyfriend
Derrick - Erick’s father
Carline - Erick’s stepmother
“You have got to try this,” Erick says to Chris as he settles in next to him on the couch.
“What is it?”
“It’s cookie butter. It’s the consistency of peanut butter but far more addicting.”
“So it’s cookie dough.”
“No. It’s like that almond butter I used to spread on apples.” Erick opens up the jar and scoops out a spoonful. “Taste it.”
Chris opens his mouth and Erick feeds him spoonful of cookie butter. “It’s good.”
“This shit is more than good. It’s like crack in a jar. Literally. That’s what they say at Trader Joe’s every time I go there to pick up another jar…or two.”
“How many times have you gone?”
Erick rests his head in Chris’s lap. “Well, it started off about once every other week. But then it started happening every week. At first, it was just one jar. But now it’s two. It makes me nervous not to have a backup jar.”
Chris takes the jar from Erick and looks at the nutrition facts. “This could add up.”
Erick scoops out another spoonful. “I’ve already figured that out. I’m giving up fried foods until this obsession wanes.”
“Even French fries?”
“Except French fries. French fries don’t count as fried food.”
“I don’t know why I’m asking you to explain what passes in your mind as logic, but here goes…”
“Don’t worry. This one is easy. French fries don’t count because they can be baked and still called French fries.”
“And how often do you actually have baked French fries.”
“It depends on when I make them.”
“But when you don’t, you eat them fried. Right?”
“Right. But then that depends on who is making them. So sometimes not. And the not is why they don’t count.”
“Except when they’re fried.”
“No. Because I only count the times I bake them.”
“And the times you don’t?”
“Those times don’t count.”
“I don’t want them to.”
Erick’s phone buzzes. “Thank God,” Chris says.
Erick answers the phone as he playfully twists Chris’s left nipple. “Well hello, father.”
“Well hello, son.”
“Happy almost Father’s Day.”
“Thank you. I was thinking of coming out to for a visit.”
“Can you buzz us up?”
“Carline and I are downstairs.”
Erick gets up off the couch, places the cookie butter on his coffee table and starts looking around for things to clean. “Um….my code is 227. My apartment number is 409.”
Chris grabs hold of the wandering Erick. “You’re dad is here?”
“Yes! With Carline!”
“We should put some pants on,” Chris responds matter-of-factly.
Erick rushes into the kitchen to place the dishes in the sink into the dishwasher. Chris calmly walks into the bedroom. Erick rushes back into the living room with a drying towel and haphazardly dusts off the furniture. Erick circles back into the kitchen, dampens a hand towel and hurriedly wipes off the countertops. Chris comes out of the bedroom and tosses Erick a pair of jeans.
“Sweatpants, really?” Erick says.
“What’s wrong with these?”
“This is my father, not some random trick off the street.”
“You wouldn’t need pants for a trick,” Chris jokes.
“Please put on a pair of jeans,” Erick requests as he directs Chris back into the bedroom. “And nothing faded or with a hole in the crotch.”
“Our foreplay pants are at my apartment,” Chris replies from inside the bedroom.
Erick struggles to pull up his jeans as his father knocks on the door. He takes a few steps toward the door as he’s pulling them up, but he trips and falls against it. He quickly gathers himself and opens the door.
“Is everything okay in here?” Erick’s father asks as he walks in and gives Erick a hug.
“Hi, Erick,” Carline says as she walks in behind Erick’s father and gives Erick a hug.
“It’s good to see you Carline. Come on in. Take a seat on my ‘couch’. Can I get you guys anything?”
Erick’s father and Carline look around the apartment. “I like this better than your studio,” Erick’s father comments as he and Carline sit down on the couch.
“What do you have?” Carline asks.
“Water…and almond milk. But I can also brew some hot tea or put some ice in it to make it iced tea.”
“I guess we’re fine,” Carline replies.
“Besides, we came here to take you out to lunch," Erick's father adds. "We have some news for you.”
“Chris is here."
“Then we came to take you and Chris out to lunch.”
Chris walks out of the bedroom and walks over to greet Erick’s father and Carline. “Were we interrupting anything?” Carline asks.
“Nope. We were just laying here eating cookie butter. We were going to watch a movie,” Chris replies.
“Hollywood Je T’aime. I met the writer and director a couple weeks ago.”
“Can we tear you away from movie night to take you two out to dinner?”
“Absolutely,” Erick says. “We’d love it.”
“Do we have to wait until dinner to hear your news?” Chris asks.
“Nope. Carline and I got married.”
“What?” Erick exclaims.
“We got married.”
“There was a ceremony. Just a very small one in our living room.”
“Why didn’t you have Brent and me there?”
“It was all but impossible to coordinate a date that works for both you and your brother. So we decided to get married privately and then split our honeymoon between you here, your brother in Baltimore and by ourselves in Florida.”
“How long are you two staying here?”
“We’re at the Andaz on Sunset until Saturday. Then we fly out to Baltimore to spend Father’s Day with Brent and the boys.”
“Does he know you’re coming?”
“Yes, but he doesn’t know why. Since you couldn’t keep the engagement to yourself, can you at least keep the wedding to yourself?”
“Yes, of course.”
“That’s what you said last time.”
“Well, I mean it this time.”
There’s a short, awkward pause. “So where are you taking us?” Chris asks.
“What’s that place next door to the hotel called?”
Erick and Chris think about this for a moment. “Saddle Ranch,” Chris answers.
“How about there?” Erick’s father asks.
“It’ll cost me two Runyons and a jar of cookie butter, but sure.” Erick replies.
Erick’s father and Carline look at Erick in confusion. “What does that mean?” Carline asks.
“I could explain it to you and it still wouldn’t make any sense,” Chris responds.
Erick hands his father the remote control for the TV. “We’ll freshen up and then we’ll go,” he says as he and Chris head into the bathroom.
“I’m so glad we did it this way,” Carline whispers excitedly to Erick’s father after the bathroom door closes.
Erick’s father nods his head. “The look on Erick’s face alone was worth the trip out here. I can’t wait to see Brent’s reaction.”
Original Fiction from a Sitcom Mind > The Halls of Shambala > I Am Erick Davidson - An Original Short Story Series >