Bind and Loose

The interstate is empty on all sides. Simon’s seen nothing but billboards and cows for hours, and now even they are sleeping. He rubs his eyes with a fist, yawns, and picks up his lukewarm coffee from the cup holder. He tilts his head back, drinks down the last couple of gulps, then drops the cup into the trash bag pinned to the glove box and sighs. There’s iced coffee in the cooler in the trunk, but he can feel the chill seeping through the glass of the window. Even with the heat on, he doesn’t want to drink something cold.

In the near distance, he sees a familiar sign above the road. It’s barely lit up in the glow of the moon, but he knows what it says by heart: Ohio welcomes you! 

His stomach coils into a knot. This feels… realer now. Realer than it did when they were packing the car. There’s so much mystery and that bothers him. It’s been so long since he’s seen Riley or Charlie; what are they like? Do they even remember him? 

“Si, you’re bouncing your leg again.” 

He stops tapping his foot, but the damage is done. Mikhail sits up with a yawn and slides across the bench seat to the passenger’s side. “Where are we?”

“Just entered Ohio. We’ll be there soon.”

Mikhail’s head thumps against the window. “How are you feeling?” 

Simon shrugs. “I feel fine. Just tired, really.”

“You don’t have to lie. It’s only us, and it’s not like I’m gonna tell anyone.”

“...I’m worried.” The words taste sour on his tongue. “I haven’t seen any of them in eight years. I’m twenty-seven, my brothers are thirteen. Everything is so different now and it’s impossible to know how it’s going to go.” His fingers flex around the steering wheel.

“What else?” 

His fingernails scratch the vinyl of the steering wheel and he frowns. Mikhail knows him far too well. “What if they’re not okay with it?” 

Mikhail reaches into the backseat and rummages around for one of his energy drinks in the cooler. He settles back into his seat with it unopened in his hand. “They invited me, your boyfriend, to stay with you guys. They’ve had over ten years to accept you, and they weren’t even that angry when you came out. You’ve told me many times that they’re good people, so it’s not like this is some elaborate plot to embarrass or ridicule you or us. It’s gonna be fine.” 

Simon still feels queasy. “Did I ever tell you about when I came out for the first time?”

“You came out more than once?” 

He nods. “Yeah. The first time hardly counts, but I still say it was the first time.” He laughs nervously. “I’ve never actually told anyone about this.” 

“Do you want to tell me?” 

That gives him pause, but he eventually says, “No, not really. But I want you to hear it from me before you meet my parents.” A hand rests on his thigh and he inhales deeply. “When I was twelve, I had a ‘girlfriend.’” He lifts his hands from the wheel to put the word in air quotes. Mikhail snorts, but doesn’t comment. “It went just as well as you’d probably expect. She asked me out and I would hardly hold her hand.” 

“Si, you’ll barely hold my hand in public.”

“That’s not true. As I was saying, I would hardly hold her hand. She didn’t really mind because we hung out all the time. But then one day during PE, she tried to kiss me. She leaned in, I panicked, and I… um…” His whole face heats up in the dark and he bites the inside of his bottom lip. “I threw up. On her shoes.” 

Mikhail starts to cackle, but quickly covers his mouth and coughs. “I’m sorry. It’s not funny.” 

“I know it’s funny. If it didn’t happen to me, I would have laughed too. So I don’t mind that you laughed. But anyway, I went to the nurse’s office because that’s where they send you when you puke. My mother picked me up from school and made me some soup when we got home. She asked me how I was feeling. I didn’t even know how to describe it. I just started crying and told her that there was something wrong with me.” 

Under a passing light, Mikhail’s mouth curls into a sympathetic frown. “Oh, baby…” he murmurs, resting his cheek on Simon’s shoulder. “You were just a kid. You didn’t know what being gay was.” 

“But I did know,” he confesses with a sigh. “But I was so scared and confused. I couldn’t even explain to my mother what was wrong with me and she got so worried that she almost called the doctor right there. Eventually I stopped crying enough that I told her what happened. She said it was just nerves and maybe I wasn’t ready for a girlfriend. I told myself that was what happened, and broke up with her the next day. I didn’t date anyone else until I was seventeen.” 

“And now you’re here.” Mikhail lifts his head and kisses Simon’s cheek. “Thank you for telling me.” 

Simon frowns at the road. “We only have an hour left. Get some sleep.”

---

The clock on the dashboard blinks 3:15 as Simon parks in the driveway of a large, two-story house, only to think better of it and move the car to the street. He would rather not be woken up in four hours to move his car so his parents could go to work. 

He shuts off the engine and Mikhail stirs slightly in his lap. Simon runs his fingers through thick black hair and brushes the beautiful sapphire stone in Mikhail’s ear with his thumb. It had been a birthday present the first time they’d actually celebrated his birthday, after Simon found the date from Anna. It’s funny how neither of them make a big deal out of their own birthdays, but will go out of their way to celebrate each other’s.

He smiles softly with a quiet chuckle, and strokes Mikhail’s arm. “Alright, Mika. We’re here.” 

Groggily, Mikhail sits up and yawns. Together they gather what’s important—the cooler with the coffee and energy drinks, and the separate toiletries bag—and head up to the front door. Mikhail’s too sleepy to comment on the house, but Simon knows he’ll have something to say about the size when he wakes up. Although Simon had warned him before they left that they weren’t exactly middle class, there was nothing comparable to actually seeing it. 

Simon hesitates at the door. It’s unlocked, so all he has to do is walk in. But once he’s in, he can’t just turn around and leave. This is his last chance.

“I know you’re having a crisis, but I’m tired. Can we go to bed now?” Mikhail shifts his weight on his feet and hefts the cooler up into his arms. 

In a show of mercy, Simon opens the door. He toes off his shoes and leads Mikhail up the stairs to the guest room—formerly known as his bedroom.

They don’t bother to turn on the light. Simon uses his phone as a flashlight to at least navigate to the bed, though it’s just as easy to follow the sound of Mikhail throwing his jacket and jeans on the floor and flopping onto the bed. He climbs under the covers and Simon watches him get settled.

He cracks open one eye. “Well? Get in.” 

“Is it really that good of an idea to sleep together?” Simon asks slowly. “Maybe I should go sleep on the couch.” 

Mikhail stares at him. “This is something we need to talk about. Tomorrow. Get in the bed. Wear your jeans if you want, I don’t care.” 

The grouchiness in his voice makes Simon relent. He strips down to his boxers and climbs in on the other side of the bed. He opens his arms out of reflex and Mikhail scoots closer until Simon wraps his arms around him.

“I love you, Si. You don’t have to be scared. Just get some sleep.” 

Is it that simple? It doesn’t feel like it. “I love you too, Mika. Goodnight.” 

---

There’s no alarm to wake him up, nor are there any girls getting ready for work or class to disturb him. He wakes up on his own terms, starving and alone. Mikhail’s gone and the bed’s cold. Simon rolls over with a groan and grabs his phone to check the time, but it’s dead. Awesome. 

He slips out of bed, puts his pants back on, plugs his phone in to charge, and heads downstairs with the goal of finding something for breakfast, as well as getting some coffee. 

What he doesn’t expect is to find Mikhail cooking French toast while his mother sips coffee at the counter. It’s warm from the heat of the stove, but Mikhail is wearing a sweater that carefully covers his tattoos, all the way down to his wrists. Even though Simon hadn’t requested that, he had mentioned that tattoos made his parents uncomfortable. It’s a small but significant gesture that makes him smile. He lingers in the hallway, watching them.

“Where’s your nutmeg, Mrs. Abigail?” Mikhail asks as he steps away from the slices cooking to start another batch. His voice is peppy and polite. It barely sounds forced, even to Simon’s familiar ear. “I think I’ll add some to this batch instead of just cinnamon.” 

“In that cabinet right above your head.”

He hesitates once he opens the spice cabinet. “What does the label look like?” 

“I think it’s red. Or yellow. I hardly use it, so I can’t even remember.” 

Mikhail’s mouth tightens into a frown as he stares up at the spices. Simon knows he’s not going to find it himself, nor ask for help, so he walks into the kitchen. “Here. I’ll get it.” It only takes a quick scan to find the nutmeg. He reaches over Mikhail, one hand on his back, and plucks the spice from the shelf. He hands it over and smiles faintly at the grateful “thank you” he receives.

He steps back so Mikhail can resume breakfast, then turns to Abigail. “ I hope we didn’t wake you up this morning when we came in.” He taps his heel against the floor, his muscles tense. What is he supposed to say? “It’s good to see you.”

Abigail tears up and leaves her stool, coming around the counter to throw her arms around his neck. She’s only a few inches shorter than him, but he leans down a little anyway. 

Simon relaxes relaxes and wraps his arms around her. “Hey, Ima,” he sighs. 

She sniffs and looks up at him. “My sweet boy… I’ve missed you.” She brushes her fingers through his purple hair. “You’ve changed. But you’re still so handsome.”

He groans and Mikhail snickers. “Ima,” he whines, though he can’t stifle his smile. “I missed you too. Where’s Aba and the twins?”

“Henry took them to the synagogue for some last-minute studying. But he promised to have them home before lunch, so they should be back soon.”

“What, scared they’ll flub?” he jokes. “Still mad at me for messing up my bar mitzvah?”

She swats his arm, only to hold it tight so he can’t pull away. “I wasn’t mad. I know you knew the words. You were just so freaked out about speaking in front of so many people that you missed a couple of words.”

“…Yeah, I guess I was just nervous.” He can remember the things he was scared of that day, and all the people were not one of them. But there’s no reason to bring it up. “I can’t wait to see them. How have you all been?”

The change in subject brightens her face and she leads him to sit with her at the table. “I got a promotion last year and a nice bonus. It’s set away to get the twins cars in a few years. Henry’s partner left the firm not too long ago, but he just hired a new woman who sounds promising. Riley joined the JV softball team for high school next year, and Charlie got into charity work. He works with the animal shelter.” She laughs. “He comes home every other week asking to adopt a new dog. But after Theo passed, Henry has been reluctant to get a new dog.”

Simon deflates. “When did Theo die? What happened?”

She caresses his cheek. “He was old, honey. He was blind and could hardly walk. We had to put him down about six months ago. I tried to call you, but…” Her hand falls to her lap. “But last time we spoke, you were so exhausted from working so much, and I didn’t want to stress you out. Then we didn’t talk for a while and I didn’t want to bring it up out of nowhere. I’m sorry, honey. I know you loved him.” 

Mikhail switches off the stove and slides a plate of French toast in front of them. “Breakfast is ready,” he says quietly. 

“Thanks, Mikhail.” Simon says, forgoing the usual pet name. Mikhail’s eyes flicker almost imperceptibly between mother and son, only to walk away and wash the batter off his hands. Simon clears his throat. “I guess you two already know each other?”

Abigail nods and grabs a piece of French toast. “He was already making coffee when I came down this morning and he introduced himself. He told me when you two came in and offered to make breakfast while you slept. He’s very polite.”

“I try my best,” he chirps. “Si, the cooler is on the back porch. The ice melted so I drained it and put the drinks in the fridge.” 

“Great, thanks. I’ll probably need that coffee later. I’m still tired from last night.” 

“Speaking of, eat. You haven’t had anything since our early dinner yesterday.” 

Abigail nods. “Yes, Mikhail is right, honey. Eat some brunch, then get dressed. I need to get start getting ready, so I’ll leave you too alone.” Out of reflex, Simon hunches forward and she stands on her toes to kiss him on the head. After a lingering hug, she heads upstairs.

Simon watches her leave, then turns back to the food. “Our suits are still in the backseat, right?” 

“Yep. They’re hanging up so they shouldn’t need ironing.” Mikhail rests his elbows on the counter and picks up a stick of toast. “Did you sleep well?” 

Humming, Simon fills a saucer with a couple of pieces. “I did, yeah. They put a new mattress on. It was nice.” 

“So you didn’t have any problems sleeping next to me?” 

Simon sighs. “Look, I’m sorry for what I said. I’m not used to bringing boyfriends to my parents’ house.” 

Mikhail drops the slice back onto the plate and dusts his hands with a paper towel. “I’m not mad at you. But I think we need to talk about it.” 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Simon argues. His voice cracks and he clears his throat. “Really, there’s nothing to talk about.”

Mikhail stares at him, then straightens up. “You’re a horrible liar. But fine, we won’t talk about it. I’m going to get dressed. Eat something before we leave.” 

Simon’s left staring at his food as Mikhail heads outside to the car. He picks up a piece and takes a small bite. It’s the same exact recipe that Mikhail makes at home, which is the best French toast he’s ever had, but his appetite is gone. But instead of letting it go to waste, he finds a freezer bag and starts packing them away.

The front door opens and he turns around to make an excuse for why he wasn’t eating, only to freeze. 

Henry Lowell looks almost exactly the same as he did when Simon last saw him, back when he graduated college almost five years ago. He has a few more wrinkles and some grey hairs, but he’s wearing the same outfit he always wears to services. 

“Hey, Aba. How’re you?” 

He shrugs. “All right. Been working a lot recently. What about you?”

“Working, too. And studying, but mostly working.”

Henry hums and cracks his neck loudly. “Yeah? What do you do now anyway?” 

“I’m a photographer. I do weddings and event photoshoots for the most part. Sometimes I can get hired to do modeling shoots.”

“That’s nice. How was the drive?” 

“Good, good. Took a while, but we did it. We got in really early this morning.” 

“I know. I met your… partner this morning. He made coffee and was talking to Abigail. He seemed pretty awake.” 

Simon exhales a chuckle. “Yeah, he doesn’t sleep much. He somehow gets by on, like, four hours of sleep most days.” 

Henry yawns into his fist. “I wish I could do that. I swear, the older I get, the more I have to sleep.” 

The front door opens again Simon looks behind Henry to see his brothers come inside.

The twins come up behind him and stand on either side. They’re not as identical as they were when they were five. Charlie has his hair cut short, and Riley has long, curly hair that almost hangs in his eyes. But both boys are still small, late bloomers just like he’d been.

He smiles slightly. “Hey, guys. It’s been a while. Still remember me?” he half-jokes.

“Hi, Simon,” Riley mumbles. He’s always been the quieter, albeit bolder, one. 

“You two ready for today? Excited?” 

Riley nods and smiles. He has braces now. “I’m ready.” His voice is soft, but enthused. “I invited my girlfriend to come watch.” 

That catches Simon off guard. “A girlfriend? Congrats, Riley. What’s her name?” 

“Lily,” he replies, perking up considerably. He seems genuinely happy about it, and Simon hopes it goes well for him.

“Charlie, what about you?” 

The younger twin shrugs. “I’m not dating anyone yet.” He points towards the front door. “Who’s the guy in the driveway? Is that his car?” 

Simon hesitates and glances uncertainly at Henry’s face, but his expression gives nothing away. “That’s Mikhail,” he says finally. “He’s… my roommate. And no, that’s my car.” 

“Cool car.” He looks up at Henry. “Can I have a car like that when I’m sixteen?” 

Henry ruffles Charlie’s hair. “Sorry, bud. That’s out of our price range. Not to mention that it has a lot of custom work.” He looks at Simon. “Did you do it yourself?” 

“Uh, no,” Simon chuckles awkwardly. “I know someone who does custom body work. He cut me a deal because I filmed his sister’s wedding.” That isn’t true, but he finds it’s easier than saying he’d met Kenji when he raced cars. And that Mikhail bought him the car.

Henry nods. “Still must have been expensive though.” 

“Eh,” he replies with a shrug. “It wasn’t that bad. Definitely worth it.” He shifts his weight on his feet uneasily, unsure of where to take the conversation, when Mikhail walks into the house with their clothes. Simon takes the opportunity to weakly excuse himself and rush upstairs with Mikhail.

After learning that Mikhail showered earlier, Simon locks himself in the guest bathroom with his clothes. His shoulders relax with the click of the lock and he sighs. He only has to get through today, and then they’ll be going home. But even with that reassurance, he drags out showering, shaving, brushing his teeth, and finally getting dressed. He lingers with his hand on the doorknob. He doesn’t want to face his family or Mikhail. He doesn’t want to go to the temple. He only wants to go home, to his real home, and get back to his life.

He jumps when someone knocks. “Si, it’s time to go. Are you ready?” 

No. “Yeah. I’m coming.”

---

One thing that Simon hadn’t considered was the fact that the community hasn’t changed all that much. So he’s unprepared when they walked into the synagogue and he sees the people who had watched him grow up and hadn’t seen him in ten years. Taller than everyone but his father, he stands out. There’s no hiding from them once they notice him.

 It’s unbearable from the start. While the focus is definitely on the twins, the elder members are morbidly curious about where Simon disappeared to after high school and who is the mysterious stranger with him.

There’s only so many times he can say, “Mikhail, a friend,” before the words start to sting. Few people push for more information, and those who do are quickly distracted by Mikhail and his overt charm. By the time Riley approaches the podium to recite the scripture, Simon has regulated himself to the back wall near the food. 

He looks up and his mouth goes dry. Riley, scrawny and spindly with floppy brown hair and glasses, eerily resembles himself at that age. But Riley stands tall in front of the microphone and clearly recites the lines from the Torah. It is the image of how the ceremony should go—no stammers, no second guesses, no mistakes, and no fear. 

His stomach twists and he drops the plate in the garbage can just as Riley concludes. 

Charley’s up next, and he does just as well. Bitterness burns in Simon’s chest and he looks down at the floor. He shouldn’t be angry with them, and he knows that. But his chest aches and he can’t ignore the jealousy. 

“Si, are you okay?” Mikhail asks, slinking over to his side. He’s been flirting/not flirting with any single woman that will give him the time of day. It’s so easy for him to flip that switch. And normally that doesn’t bother Simon in the slightest, but tonight his shoulders tense up.

“I’m going outside for a minute.” He wants to leave, but they drove all this way for his brothers’ sakes. Not to mention this is a big deal for both of them and he doesn’t want to ruin that. His fingers twitch towards his pocket for a cigarette that he hasn’t carried in two years. He clenches his fist and slips out of the temple through the back door. 

The chill wind slices through his clothes and he shivers, tugging his blazer tighter. He looks out at his favorite part of the synagogue—the garden. It isn’t much in the frigid January weather, but the small bench that stands alone reminds him of Saturday afternoons as a kid, when he used to sit and study outside while his mother met with the rabbis. It took him a long time to realize his mother needed guidance when she first started working as a criminal lawyer.

The bench has seen better days. The once smooth stone is coarse, even through his trousers. It tugs on the fabric when he shifts. 

He sighs and holds his face in his hands. He wasn’t ready for this. Part of him knew it from the beginning. But he ignored his own worries to be there for his brothers. He isn’t sure if it’s worth it. Nine years removed from his old life and everything that he has worked so hard to forget is rushing back.

“Simon, honey?” 

He jerks his head up and rises, dusting his pants off. “Sorry, Ima. I just needed to get some fresh air.” 

She frowns at him. “Sit down, baby.” He slowly sits back down on the bench and she sits next to him. “Mikhail told me you had to leave.”

“I just needed—”

“He also told me you’ve been acting weird since you two entered the state. What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, I promise. It’s cold. Let’s go back inside.” He goes to stand up, only for her to grab his arm.

“Simon. Don’t lie to me. Please, sit down and tell me what’s wrong.” 

It’s impossible to say no to her when she gives him that sad, pleading look. He sits back down on the bench and tries to organize his thoughts. “When I left home, I built a new me. I was openly gay and happy and proud. But now I’m home and I remember why I hid it in the first place. And I hate it. Every time I call Mikhail a friend or my roommate it hurts. He’s not just that. He’s my partner and my boyfriend and I… and I love him.” His throat is raw and he swallows. He has never said he loved another man before, outside of his relationships. In a way, it’s liberating. But he lowers his head in shame. “I’ll never give you grandchildren. The Torah says I’m a sin. Aba is uncomfortable with it. I hate that I’ve disappointed you. Your eldest son shouldn’t have turned out this way and I’m sorry.” 

His eyes burn as he presses his palms against them. He sniffles and growls. There’s nothing worse than crying when he can’t help it. 

“Honey, look at me.” 

Begrudgingly, he lifts his head and meets her eyes. There’s nothing but warmth in them. She brushes a loose curl away from his forehead. “How long have you thought like this?” 

He swallows hard. “Since I knew I was gay. So… thirteen,” he confesses quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, Simon,” she says sternly. Her face softens. “I’m not disappointed in you. Neither is your father. We love you for who you are. You were such an unhappy teenager. I noticed how you stopped talking to people those last two years of high school. I wish we’d had this conversation then, and I’m sorry for that. But I love you, Simon. I don’t care that you’re gay. No, I’m happy you’re gay. Because now I know you’re living your life how you’re supposed to. You are not a sin, and you are not a bad Jew. I wish we had taught you better than to thinks the Lord hates you for the way He made you. But He loves you, just as much as I do.” 

She brushes her thumb across his cheek. It comes away wet and she uses her palms to wipe away the rest of his tears. “Why are you crying?”

He sniffles and chuckles involuntarily. “I don’t know. I just— It’s been fourteen years. I’ve been scared for half my life. And I’ve been wrong, so wrong. I thought you and Aba were just tolerating my sexuality, because it was out of sight and out of mind. I was so scared of bringing Mikhail here, and now you tell me that it’s all okay.” He laughs again and his voice breaks as the tears keep coming. He rubs his eyes and drags his hands down his face. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to cry.”

“It’s okay to cry, honey,” she soothes, stroking his back. “There’s nothing wrong with it.” She shivers and rubs her bare arms. “Are you feeling good enough to go inside?”

He hesitates. That means facing everyone again, and now with bloodshot eyes. But she’s cold and so is he, so he nods. “Yeah. Let’s go back in.”

They stand up together and head back towards the temple. 

“Simon, did you really buy that car of yours?” she asks. 

His face pinks. “Uh… no. Mikhail bought it for me. But I did pay for the modifications myself.”

Something passes across her face and she slowly says, “I see. So is he your—”

“Don’t say it,” he interrupts with a grimace. “No, he’s not. Besides, he’s younger than me. He’s only twenty-five.”

She nods. “He mentioned this morning that you two have been together for almost four years now. Are you happy?”

“Yes.” He answers without a pause—the first time since yesterday. “I am happy.” And he is. He wouldn’t trade his life with mikhail for anything. 

As they reach the door, she pulls him down and kisses his cheek. “Good. I’m glad that you’re finally happy. You deserve it, Simon.” She releases him and leaves to go talk to Henry. 

Simon finds Mikhail near the food, though he’s only holding an energy drink that he smuggled in. He smiles at Simon as he settles next to him. When Simon reaches out and laces their fingers together without a word, his eyes widen. “You’re holding my hand. In church.”

“It’s not a church. It’s a synagogue. But yes, I am.”

“Your eyes are red. Are you okay?”

Simon turns towards him and presses a kiss to his lips. “Yeah, I’m okay. I love you, Mika,” he murmurs. 

Mikhail’s entire face lights up and his hazel glitter under the lights. He squeezes Simon’s hand. “I love you too, Si.”