Page 127
Story: Broken Bridges
“So it’s not all good then.” Her eyes twinkled as she wrinkled her nose.
“No.” He slumped back in his chair, grabbed his beer, and raised it at us. “But it’s good to see you’re working things out.”
“Yes.” She nodded. “We are.”
“Never thought I’d see the day you’d be with a chick, Lew. But I’m glad you’re happy.” Lyndon shook my hand, then Tia’s. “Lovely to meet you, Tia.”
“Thank you.”
Skirting around the busy dance floor, we wandered through the cluster of tables, chatting to a few family friends. But anytime we neared my parents, they were quick to move away. Typical. I’d need another drink before I faced them.
At the bar, I ordered a round of bourbons as Tia slipped onto a stool. She hooked her fingers into the top of my belt and drew me closer. “Damn, you have a big family.”
Wedged between her legs, I rested my hip against the counter. “This isn’t even all of them. There are more aunts and uncles and cousins who aren’t here.”
“Wow.” Her eyes widened as she rubbed her brow. “My pool of relatives is nowhere near this huge. You have way too many siblings. I want a family one day, but not seven kids. That’s way too many.”
“Two or three would be nice.” I leaned forward, snaked my hand around her waist, and nuzzled into her ear. “You want to start trying?”
“God no. Let’s stick to dating for now.” Giggling, she jerked her chin back. “We go on tour soon, and we’re not married.”
My breath hitched. “Did you say, ‘we go on tour?’ Are you gonna come with us?”
She looked up at me from beneath her long lashes. “Yeah. That okay?”
“That is perfect. But the marriage thing?” A dull ache flared in the center of my chest. As the waiter placed our drinks on the counter, my past rejection swam through my mind. I wanted forever with Tia, but did that have to include a ring? “Do you really want to do that one day?”
“Yes.”
My pulse spiked as I downed my shot. I slammed my glass onto the counter. I turned on a playful tone, but lingering fear rattled my heart. “I’m not sure I ever want to risk proposing again.”
“Then don’t.” She shrugged and swallowed her drink. “I understand why you wouldn’t want to. So when the time is right, I’ll ask you.”
Weight evaporated from my shoulders. I breathed easier. “I like the sound of that. But for future reference, don’t do anything outlandish, and I wouldn’t want a big wedding like this. The alcohol is good though.” I waved down the bartender and pointed at our glasses for a refill.
After our bourbons were refreshed, Tia raised her glass at me. “I’m down for no fanfare. I’d do anything to avoid the paparazzi, the stress over dresses, food, venues, and guests, so let’s elope. After tour. If we survive that, we’ll be together for a very long time. Deal?”
Warmth filled my belly and spread throughout my entire body. I’d found the perfect person. I chinked my glass against hers. “I am loving you more and more by the second.”
But as I stole a kiss from her sweet lips, a shard of ice shot down my spine. I straightened and sucked in a deep breath. My mother and father threw us evil stares from across the dance floor. They stood with two friends, talking in hushed tones. No doubt talking about me...and Tia. I downed my bourbon and wiped my mouth on the back of my hand. I couldn’t delay this any longer. “Tee? Are you ready to meet my folks?”
“Absolutely.” She slipped her hand into mine.
Together, we made our way over to them. The couple my parents had been talking to made a quick escape. My mother turned to follow them, but I blocked her path.
Her lips drew into an icy, thin smile. She wrapped her cream shawl around herself like it was a shield. My mother’s figure may have been slightly more curvaceous than it was when I saw her at Pop’s funeral, her styled hair a touch grayer, and a few more lines crinkled the skin near her eyes, but clearly nothing else had changed.
My father sniffed, and his spine went rigid. His small blue eyes narrowed as he looked down the bridge of his nose like he’d smelled something rotten. But that was just the way he’d looked at me for years. His leathery skin from working long hard days at the ketchup plant and thinning gray hair aged him well beyond his sixty years. But otherwise, in his simple black dinner suit, he looked fit and healthy.
I held out my hand for him to shake. He glared down at it, sucked in a deep breath, then shook it, once. After he’d let go, he was quick to wipe his palm on the back of his suit pants. He’d always been adamant being gay was contagious and dirty.
It boiled my fucking blood.
But I held my tongue.
I was here for Lucy, not them. I was and would always be the better man.
“What are you doing?” My mother’s harsh whisper cut through the air. “You’re making a spectacle of yourself with this young lady. No one wants you here.”
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