Cute, Cozy, Queer Stories

Part 21: Bria and The Neighbors

Bria had never seen a man wearing such short shorts. Her dad must not have either, because he looked at her mom as they drove past and muttered, "Oh, god."

"Are those the neighbors?" Mom asked, giving the man in the very short shorts a gentle wave as they pulled into the driveway.

"I guess so," Dad grumbled.

"You never saw them before?"

"I saw a different guy, an Asian guy, he looked—oh, god," Dad said again. This time, it sounded like he realized something. Parked in the drive, dad shut off the car.

"What?" Mom asked.

Dad muttered something Bria didn't hear.

"George!" Mom scolded, and glanced back at Bria, watching the conversation silently, and Benji, asleep in his car seat. "Don't say that in front of the kids."

Shaking his head, Dad got out of the van. Bria followed. She didn't understand Dad's sudden change in mood. Mom and Dad had been talking about the lake house for what seemed like forever. Dad kept saying he wanted his own stretch of beach, and Mom kept saying how much she wanted to be by the water, and how they would retire on the lake, and how they could swim all summer long—Bria was most interested in that part. 

But as Dad glanced to the house next door and the man surrounded by flower pots, digging in the garden, he looked like he had changed his mind.

"Hello!" The man turned and gave a wide wave. His hair was brownish-blond and longer than Bria's or Mom's, gathered in a pony-tail resting on his back. He had a yellow lily stuck behind his ear.

Bria waved back. "Hi!"

"Bria, go play by the water." Dad nudged her.

"Okay." She waved to the man again. "Bye!" Rounding the side of the white house with blue shutters—the lake house, as it was now called—she ran down the shallow hill where the grass gave way to sand. Slipping out of her shoes and socks, she stepped into the cool water. Looking across the lake, the houses on the opposite shore looked like toy houses. She didn't know why Dad kept saying they got the "smallest house on the lake." It was smaller than their real house, but still seemed big.

Mom and Dad brought things inside—bags and boxes full of stuff, much more than they'd ever brought for a trip before. Eventually, Mom deposited Benji on the shore next to Bria with a collection of colorful pails and shovels. As Bria started a sandcastle, Mom spread out a blanket on the grass nearby.

"Mom, did you see the man?" Bria pointed with her shovel. "He has hair longer than mine."

"I did," Mom said with a cool nod.

Dad sat down on the blanket with her, opening a can with a hiss. "Bria, I don't want you to go over there, or talk to him, okay? If he tries to talk to you, just ignore him."

Bria hesitated. "Because he's a stranger?" But they always talked to the next-door neighbors at home. Maybe it was different at the lake house.

"No, because he's a—"

"Yes, because he's a stranger," Mom cut in. She gave Dad a look. "It's not good to talk to strange men. Especially if we're not around."

Dad snorted, taking a sip of his drink. "Yeah, he's a 'strange man' all right."

Bria wanted to know how the man got his hair to grow long. What did he know that other boys didn't? And she wanted to know why it was okay to talk to the neighbors at home, but not these neighbors. But something about the look Mom shot Dad, and something in Dad's frown, made her not want to ask.