Page 114 of Role Model

They both got out of the truck, and Troy immediately heard barking.

“Uh-oh,” Harris said cheerfully. “Here they come.”

Several dogs of various sizes were running toward them, barking excitedly. Troy took a step back, but his back hit the side of the truck, leaving him trapped between hard metal and a tornado of dogs. Because of course they’d all made a beeline for Troy.

“Aw, come on, guys. You’re embarrassing me,” Harris laughed. He whistled and two of the dogs immediately went to him, leaving Troy with one very large dog pinning him against the truck with its paws on his stomach.

“Uh, hi,” Troy said. He realized that he had his hands in the air, as if he were surrendering. He lowered them slightly.

“Mac, you too. Get off of him, you demon.” Harris smacked his thigh, which got Mac’s attention. After a moment’s consideration, Mac seemed to decide he preferred freaking Troy out to hanging with Harris.

“Okay,” Troy said slowly. “Um...down?”

“Just start walking,” Harris said. “He’ll move.”

Troy took a step forward, and Mac dropped to all fours and wiggled between Troy’s legs.

“Mac’s the problem child,” Harris said, then knelt to scratch Mac’s head. “The little one is Shannon, and the white one is Bowser. They’re total sweethearts. Not like this boner.” Harris said the last part in an affectionate voice directed at Mac.

“Harris, don’t make your friend stand in the cold all afternoon!” The voice came from the house, and Troy turned to see a woman who must be Harris’s mother standing in the open door.

“We’re coming,” Harris said. He started walking toward the house, then stopped and said, “Shit! The pie.”

As Harris jogged back to the truck to retrieve the pie he’d made, his mom beckoned for Troy to come inside.

“I’m Marlene,” she said, extending her hand as Troy reached the top of the steps to the front veranda.

“Troy,” he said, shaking her hand. She had silver hair cut into a shoulder-length bob, dark-rimmed glasses, and the same compact build as her son. She was even wearing a plaid flannel shirt. She looked pretty hip, actually. Like a celebrated farm-to-table restaurateur.

“I’m glad to finally meet you,” she said as they went inside. “Harris has been talking you up.”

“Mom.” Harris groaned as he followed them with the pie and all three dogs.

Troy’s stomach flipped at the thought of Harris saying anything about him to his parents. It was touching and terrifying at the same time.

“He talks a lot,” Troy said, then realized it sounded more like a complaint than a gentle ribbing. “I mean, he’s friendly.” Then he realized he was talking about Harris as if he wasn’t there. “You’re friendly. And chatty. So I’m not surprised that you were talking about me.” He could feel the back of his neck heating as Harris and Marlene stared at him. “I can take that pie...somewhere...for you?”

Harris burst out laughing. “Glad you’re not nervous.”

The heat crept around from Troy’s neck to his face. “Sorry.” Excellent. He’d been here a few minutes and had basically cowered away from one of their dogs, then babbled some nonsense about Harris being chatty. Great first impression.

Troy glanced around at the old house that was obviously packed with family history and pride. It was so homey and pleasant and unfamiliar that Troy felt an urge to cast himself out into the cold like a monster.

“Is that Harris?” a new voice asked.

A man stepped into the front entrance from an adjacent room who looked a lot like an older version of Harris. The same eyes, the same full beard and thick hair, but both mostly gray, and the same warm smile and booming voice. The biggest difference was that he was several inches taller than Troy.

“You must be Troy. I’m Sam.”

They shook hands. “Thank you guys for having me. I haven’t had a home-cooked meal in a long time.”

“It’s been a long time since Harris has brought someone home that he’s sweet on,” Marlene said. Troy’s stomach fluttered.

“Oh my god, Mom. Way to make Troy think we live in the thirties or something.”

Marlene laughed. “Make yourself at home. We’ve got a fire going in the living room. That’s why the dogs are already back in there.” And that seemed to be the end of the Troy-is-gay-and-dating-Harris conversation. It had been barely anything, and Troy felt almost giddy.

“You saying you’re not sweet on me?” Troy murmured into Harris’s ear as they walked into the kitchen.

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