December 23rd, 2002

"Do you want to stop at a restaurant to celebrate?" Julie Ziegler struggled to keep up with his son as they walked towards the subway. He couldn't stop looking up at all the historic monuments.

"No, we'll eat at home," Toby replied curtly, avoiding eye contact.

"Oh come on," Julie coaxed. "You're going to be a father! And it's your birthday, we really should do something—"

"It's fine," Toby cut him off, a bit harshly.

They kept trudging along the bustling Washington streets in silence. People were moving a bit slower than usual with snow piling up on the walkways and the wind nipping at any exposed skin. A few last minute holiday shoppers were toting along big bags and boxes, occasionally bumping into others and unleashing strings of apologies.

"It's here," Toby pointed out the subway to his father, who was too distracted by a colourful window display across the street to notice. Toby had to pull him by the coat sleeve to get his attention. He felt odd, like the roles of parent and child had switched.

"Have you been in that store?" Julie asked, brushing the snow off his coat.

"What?"

"That store out—why are we going so fast? What is the rush Toby?"

Toby sighed, "Because I want to catch the next train." He passed his father a token and they moved through the turnstiles one after the other.

"I am confused, I don't know where we are going," Julie was looking around at all the signs and announcements of different arrivals.

"Then it's a good thing I know where we're going," Toby held onto his father's arm, in part to keep him from wandering in the wrong direction, but also to make him move a little faster.

"Well if you would just slow down for one minute—"

"That's our train," Toby shouted over the sound of the train pulling up to the platform.

A thick crowd poured out of the doors, and Toby and Julie slipped inside before they closed. The cars were half empty already, and they didn't have any trouble finding two seats together. Toby gestured for his father to slide in first, and then he awkwardly sat next to him.

"Have you seen Janet recently? My goodness Lily is so big, she could almost drive a car! And Sam has started playing the trombone; it's quite terrible actually, but I like watching him practice so intently...that is, if Lily lets him practice! She is always running around the house making a big—" Julie started chatting about his grandchildren, listing their accomplishments proudly.

Toby was nodding and only half listening. He knew all of this anyway, but he was also trying to figure out when he should tell him. It was all too sudden; he wasn't planning on having this conversation with his father. Ever. But sitting next to him, Toby couldn't think of anything else.

"Hey," Toby interrupted, clearing his throat. "I, um, had plans tonight. Before you got here."

"Oh I'm sorry," Julie looked a bit crestfallen.

"No it's fine. Really! I—I just had a friend coming over for dinner. And I've already called him and let him know you were joining us." Toby was drumming his fingers on the bannister and trying to look nonchalant.

Julie frowned, mistaking his son's nervousness for irritation. "You are really sure it is fine?"

"Yes," Toby forced a small smile, repeating himself for good measure. "Yes it'll be fine."

Zeke's POV

"Fuck!" I cursed myself out loud as I dropped half of the load of laundry on the way to the dryer. "Just my fucking luck," I muttered as I picked the clothes off the damp bathroom rug and shoved them into the dryer with the sheets.

After I got the dryer started, I hurried to finish cleaning up my room and making it safe for Toby's dad to enter. All my sex toys had to go deep into the closet, followed by my queer books, and then the innumerable beauty products and knick knacks that just felt too cluttered. I shoved it all in a corner of a closet and threw some clothes on top of it.

The timer on the oven beeped; I rushed into the kitchen to turn it off. The squash was roasting nicely and just needed a few more minutes, so I turned the oven off. I moved the latkes that I had made in advance into the oven to stay warm.

I prepped a pan to cook the steaks. I had been marinating them in my room on the sly since yesterday for Toby's birthday. I was pretty sure there would be enough for the unexpected third wheel. I really hoped that his dad didn't have any allergies. That would be just my luck—

I caught my reflection in the mirror. I was in underwear and had some major untrimmed neckbeard going on. "I'm a mess," I told myself.

I ran into the bathroom and took the shortest shower of my life. I dried my hair and started shaving when I heard the front door open, and the muffled sounds of conversation. "Fuck," I whispered to myself, watching my half-shaved, terror-stricken face in the mirror.

I finished shaving so fast I nicked myself several times. I threw my razor in the garbage on reflex before remembering it was brand new. I carefully pried it out of the can, picking stray hairs off of it and swearing under my breath.

I could hear the voices more clearly now, and could tell that Toby was giving his usual short, sassy retorts. Toby's dad sounded quite sweet, like a tired immigrant grandpa—not anything like I'd expect a former member of the mafia to sound like.

"Okay, what do I do?" I thought to myself. I really didn't want to meet my lover's dad for the first time in this state—that is, naked under a towel. If they weren't looking towards the bathroom, I could probably slip out and dash into Toby's room unnoticed. If only I knew where they were standing—

I spotted my mobile phone sitting on the counter charging. I grinned and dialed the home number. I heard it ring in the living room and Toby said something to his dad before picking up.

"Hello?"

I crammed myself into a corner as far away from the door as possible and whispered into the phone, "Hey it's Zeke."

"What? I can't hear you."

"Toby I'm in the bathroom."

"Wh... What are you doing?"

"What do you think I'm doing?" I snapped. "Look I need you to show your dad something. Loudly. Away from the bathroom."

"How am I—"

"Please," I whined, getting really desperate.

Toby sighed loudly, and I could picture him pinching his temple. "Fine. Be quick."

He hung up. After a pause, I heard him saying quite loudly, "Sorry, that was just something at work. It's nothing to worry about. Have I ever shown you my signed Yankees bat?"

I grinned. That's my man.

I quickly bolted from the bathroom into Toby's room. I yanked on the nice dress pants and shirt I had laid out and combed my hair. I peered out the door and could see that the two of them were at the far end of the room, having an intense conversation by the sounds of it.

I realized that, in order to avoid suspicion, I couldn't just stroll out and introduce myself. Then his dad would know I was hiding in a room. In Toby's apartment. While he wasn't home.

They were turned away from the front door. I could make it.

I sneaked out of the room, tiptoeing across the living room, my eyes rocketing back and forth between the door and the two of them. Toby spotted me when I was just in the entrance—just a few feet away—but then his dad was turning—

I slammed the door loudly and walked into the entrance. "Hey Toby!" I announced loudly, smiling and trying to pretend like it was perfectly normal for me to burst into my buddy's house. With no shoes on. Or a coat. Fuck.

Toby smirked at me a little before deciding to play along, "Oh hey Zeke. Did you take your shoes off outside again?"

Brilliant cover story. "Oh yeah! You know, don't want to track any snow into your place...man," I tried to butch up the only way I knew how: constant insertions of manly words.

"Did you leave your jacket out there too?" he asked me.

Okay now he was just being a little shit. "Nah bud, I-I just left it... in the car." Ha, totally plausible! If his dad wasn't standing right there, I would have stuck out my tongue at him.

I smiled at his dad, who was standing a bit behind Toby and peering around at me like an interested scientist discovering an unexpected new specimen. Jules Ziegler was a neat, bespectacled old man who came off as a shy observer of life's intricacies, like his son. Unlike Toby, he exuded warmth and openness.

"Uh... dad this is Ezekiel Wallace," Toby introduced us, waving abstractedly in my direction.

Jules smiled and shook my hand with both of his own, "Jules Ziegler. I hope you don't mind my intruding on your dinner..."

"No I'm glad you could join us sir!"

"No, no, what is this sir? You make me feel old!" he chided me gently. "Sir is for the military and trying to make a good first impression."

"Ah s-sorry," I stuttered. "I guess it didn't work then..."

"No, no, quite the contrary," he shook his head, a tiny sparkle in his eyes. "Shall we agree that you've made a good impression and move on to more interesting things?"

I grinned. I liked this old guy. "Sure!"

"Wonderful. Please call me Julie."

"Then please call me Zeke."

Toby cleared his throat, "If we've gotten that out of the way, are we ready to eat?"

It took me a second to realize the question was directed at me. "Oh yeah... man. I just need to finish the steaks."

"Ah so you have prepared the dinner?" Julie asked me.

"Uh yeah, it's nothing too fancy. Just steak, latkes, squash..." I felt oddly self-conscious about my cooking all of a sudden.

"Can I help with anything?" Julie started rolling up his sleeves.

"Oh no that's fine—"

"Please I insist," he clapped his hands. "What can I do?"

I got him to start cooking the steaks, while Toby and I set the table. Once we were done, Toby loudly asked me to help him in setting up the spare room.

Once we were in my room, I said, "Hey so I already cleaned up in here. The sheets are just in the dryer."

Toby nodded, staring at a point on the wall.

"You okay pumpkin?" I asked quietly, rubbing his arm.

He checked that the door was mostly closed, then he released a big sigh. "I don't think I can do it."

"Do what?"

He started pacing and muttering, "All of it. My dad's here, you're here, I'm going to be coming out at work soon, I need to finish the President's inauguration speech, I'm going to have twins with my ex-wife—I can't... I can't even begin to imagine..."

I knew what he meant. "Everything's happening all at once."

He sighed again. "Zeke, I... can we hold off on talking about us tonight?"

I smiled, "Gosh, I don't know if I can stop talking about myself that long."

"It's just that, my dad just got here, things are already so tenuous—"

"Hey, hey I totally get it," I patted his belly. "You can come out when you're ready pumpkin."

He squeezed my hand briefly, "Thanks."

I grinned, "I guess we can be straight bros... if you can keep your hands off of me for one whole night."

He laughed, "Yeah yeah hot stuff. Why don't you go keep an eye on my dad? I'll make the bed."

I sneaked a quick peck on the cheek before scuttling out of the room. Jules was still busy at the stove; the steaks were sizzling in the pan. Somehow he had scrounged up an onion and was sautéing it with some garlic and spices.

"Smells great!" I piped up, breathing in the delicious aromas.

Julie beamed at me, "I hope you don't mind, I know Toby loves caramelized onions—"

I nodded, "Not at all! I hope you're prepared to burn his steak."

Julie laughed, "Ah yes that's my fault I'm afraid."

"Oh you're also a more-char-than-meat kind of guy?"

"Yes, I generally don't eat much red meat, but when I do, as little blood as possible..." Julie trailed off, adding more oil to the onions and frowning.

I waited a few moments for him to say something, then I got worried about the silence and needed to fill it. "Uh yeah I don't like eating too much meat, but Toby seems to think that he can eat like he's 20 for as long as he likes."

Julie chuckled, "We will see if that changes with the coming of his children."

"Yeah we'll see..." I repeated doubtfully.

"I hope you are not uncomfortable with my asking," Julie turned to me, scratching his head the way I'd seen Toby do it hundreds of times. "But how old are you?"

I grinned and answered the way I usually did, "How old do you think I am?"

"I think you look much younger than you are."

"Yeah, pretty much! I'm 34."

"Do you also work at the White House?"

"Uh no... I'm a child and youth social worker."

"Ah that's fantastic!" Julie exclaimed, so bright eyed and genuine it made me want to tell him my life story. "I always wished I could have become a teacher. I love children, especially those very young—so curious and honest..."

He trailed off again, staring at the spoon in his hand.

"Well," I ventured. "If you think about it, you were a teacher. To your children."

"Ah yes," he smiled, stirring the onions. "Although I must say, they all surpassed my level early on. Toby specifically, he would ask me such difficult questions and not let up until I had given him a satisfactory answer."

I grinned, noticing Toby watching us from the living room. "Yeah, like a dog with a bone."

Once the steaks were done and the onions were lightly browned, we sat down to dinner. I hadn't realized how hungry I had gotten after cooking all that food and then rushing around at the last minute, so I just started shovelling food into my mouth. Luckily, Julie kept up the conversation all by himself—talking about his grandkids mostly. Sometimes he had a question about DC that I could answer, or about Toby's job that he would answer.

"So, how did you two meet?" Toby's dad asked us, smiling innocently.

I looked at Toby, but he seemed completely engrossed in his steak and unable to form words, so I took the plunge, "Oh we just met each other through friends. Just a big group of friends. Toby was friends with someone I'm friends with, and that's how we met." I took a huge bite of latke to prevent any more nonsense coming out of my mouth.

Toby was smirking at me, the bastard. "I think what Zeke is trying to say is that we met at a poetry reading."

"Ah are you a poet?"

I laughed nervously, "Ah well I dabble. I facilitate a youth poetry group though, that's why I was there."

Julie beamed at me, "That is wonderful! Do you and Toby go to many poetry readings, the two of you?"

I shifted in my seat, feeling suddenly quite warm. "Um not many. Sometimes we go to readings at our friend's house. There's a lot of other people there too. Well not a lot. It's not a huge house. Maybe 10-15 people per room? With three rooms, that's—"

"Zeke," Toby interrupted. "I don't think he needs a rundown of the exact dimensions of the house." The bastard was so damn smug, while I was sweating buckets.

"Oh no, I find it of interest!" Julie exclaimed. "What other activities do you find to do in DC?"

I looked at Toby again, hoping to be spared giving another humiliating response, but he was chewing on his charred meat. "Well," I tapped my fingers on the table and looked around the room for inspiration as to what straight men did together. "We go to baseball games."

"Are you a big fan of sports?"

"Not really," I admitted. "I mean, I find my interest ranges on a scale of 'mildly awake' to 'indifferent'. I actually find the most interesting part is listening to Toby's commentary, right man?"

Toby grunted in response, continuing to attack his steak.

I felt a little more pulled together now, so I kept answering Julie's questions about what Toby and I did together, who our mutual friends were, and how we got along.

I felt it was going great; I even jokingly called him Mr. Ziegler. He replied, "Oh no, don't call me Mr. Ziegler. That is almost as bad as sir! You can call me dad."

I laughed, feeling a sudden wave of yearning for a simpler family. "Haha, I wish you could be my dad, Julie. You're a great person."

"Ah well, maybe one day you will be. I believe it is only a matter of years before they allow men to marry in DC."

Toby choked a bit on his steak, and I choked a bit on thin air.

Julie looked at both of us, concerned, "Have I said something wrong?"

"W-what," Toby stuttered. "What you just said about marriage—"

"Oh I'm sorry," Julie rushed to apologize. "I understand you might not wish to be married. Many people they are doing—what is it called—civic unions."

Toby stood up quickly, dragging his chair against the floor with a screech. He stalked over to the kitchen and poured himself a drink. He wouldn't look at me or his dad.

"Did Janet tell you?" Toby asked, still not looking up from his drink.

"No, your sister didn't mention it," Jules was twisting in his chair to try to keep facing his son.

"Did something tick you off? How did you figure it out?"

"I simply saw it in the way you interacted. I knew you must be close if you were having dinner alone on your birthday. Toby, I don't mind that you are homosexual."

Toby scoffed and gestured angrily, "This wasn't how it was supposed to go! I was going to tell you. Also, it's all well and good that you don't mind that I'm gay now, but where was that man thirty years ago? You—No, you know what, I can't do this. I'm gonna get some air."

Toby went to get his coat and left in a huff.

I looked awkwardly at Julie. "How about some dessert?"