Page 95 of Felix

“Bread or wine?” I ask, hoping to distract him from his nerves.

“Bread,” he says, taking the rolls from my hand. He opens his door, and I do the same.

Emil doesn’t knock; he simply walks inside the house. Immediately, a few people look over from the living room adjacent to the entryway, and there are a couple Emils thrown out in greeting. Emil smiles as he takes off his shoes. I follow suit, leaving my boots by the door as an older woman walks over to us.

“Hi, dear,” she says, tugging Emil in for a hug.

“Aunt Lilah,” he answers, hugging her back with one arm. “It’s good to see you. This is Christian, my boyfriend.”

“Well aren’t you just gorgeous,” she says to me, holding out her hands. “Want me to take those bottles?”

I hand the wine over. “Sure, thanks.”

She hums. “Emil, I haven’t seen you since last Thanksgiving. What’ve you been up to?”

“Lilah?” someone calls. “Does this casserole need to go in the oven?”

“Oh, excuse me,” Emil’s aunt says, walking off with the wine.

Emil holds up the rolls. “Let’s drop these off in the kitchen.”

I nod, following Emil further into his parents’ house. Several people are in the large yet simplistically designed kitchen, some putting final touches on dishes, a few others standing around with drinks in their hands. Emil sets the rolls on a white marble countertop.

“Want something to drink?” he asks me. “Wine, water, hard alcohol?”

I huff a laugh. “Not right now. But thanks.”

He nods just as his name is called. With a little head cant, he leads me over to a small group of people standing beside the kitchen table. Just like before, Emil introduces me as his boyfriend, and then he goes around the circle, pointing out his brother Julian, his sister Eloise, and their respective wives.

“It’s nice to meet you, Christian,” Eloise says. Like Emil, she has brown hair and glasses, although her frames look more like a fashion statement than a necessity. “Did you two meet at school?”

“Emil graduated last year, remember?” Julian puts in before taking a small sip of his wine.

“Actually, I’m working on my master’s,” Emil corrects.

Julian looks surprised by that, but Eloise nods. “That’s right,” she says. “Are you still on track for clinical psychology?”

“Oh, um,” Emil says, poking up his glasses. “I wasn’t, uh… I was never actually…”

He peters out, and I slip my hand into his. “He’s getting his master’s in experimental psychology,” I say proudly. “And then he’ll go on for his doctorate.”

Emil gives my hand a hard squeeze.

“What do you do with experimental psych?” Allie, Julian’s wife, asks. “I’ve never heard of that.”

Emil opens his mouth to answer when another woman swoops in. “Hey, hon.”

“Mom,” Emil says, returning her one-armed hug. “Um, this is Christian, my boyfriend.”

“Nice to meet you,” she says, looking at me with the same eyes as Emil. “Would you like anything to drink?”

“Oh, no, thank you.”

She nods, focus shifting back to Emil. “I need to get the soup ready, but I’ll catch up with you later?”

“Yeah, sure,” he says.

His mom hustles off, and I watch Emil’s face go through a myriad of complicated emotions.

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