Page 97 of Try Me
“He threatened Chet.”
“I only found that out recently. I don’t agree with it.” My mom pressed her lips together, then licked them. “I can’t defend everything he’s done, and I won’t. He’s reacting without thinking, running off an old script of hurt. I’m only trying to help you understand his motivations, because your relationship with him is severely damaged right now. But I hope that won’t always be the case. It’ll take time, I know,” she said when I shook my head. “And maybe it’s too late. If so, that’s a shame, but that’s also the bed he’s made.” She took my hand in hers. “Marriage and parenting are hard—two of the most difficult jobs I’ve ever done, at least. I wish I were different sometimes for you, that I didn’t get the bouts of depression. There’s no perfect version of anything. We all do the best we can, and there are so many factors that influence what that means to us.” She squeezed my hand. “But I won’t let your father use Chet against you or threaten him again. I can promise you that. I think in time he’ll come around, and it’ll be your choice whether or not you accept him when he does. I’ll support you either way, and I’m sorry that I haven’t recently. I was worried about Chet, too, at first, unsure of his motivations, but it’s very evident to me that you both feel that same inexplicable pull toward each other.”
“It is?” I blinked in surprise and examined the earnest set of her mouth.
She nodded. “When you took me to brunch, I kept noticing him looking over at our table, checking on you, watching you. I didn’t make too much of it at the time, thought maybe it was wariness on his part. Then, just now when we were doing the photos, I noticed the same thing. He…it’s hard to explain. He makesroomfor you. He moves around you, anticipates you. Your father did the same for me. Still does, though I know that’s hard for you to believe right now.”
I nodded. I’d seen it numerous times over the years between the two of them. It didn’t make me feel any less angry toward him, but I understood.
* * *
I foundChet sitting at a table with Nate, Eric, Sam, Jesse, and Ansel. He hopped up as I approached and dragged another chair to the table, then scooted his own over so I could sit next to him.
He’d come to this party with me knowing he might be publicly shamed or asked to leave. He’d stuck with me even when it threatened his future. He kept making room for me even when it didn’t serve his best interests. He’d always done it, I thought. But had I?
He touched my arm as I sat. “Everything okay? Wanna blow this Popsicle stand? Set off a bunch of firecrackers over in that fire pot on our way out?”
I laughed. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary, but I’ll keep it in mind.” Then I wound an arm around him and kissed him. Quick but firm, it was equal parts gratitude, appreciation, and longing.
Chet hummed lightly into the kiss, one arm snaking up to close around the back of my neck. “Are you about to tell me that I complete you?” he murmured low into my ear when I pulled away.
“Don’t get cocky. We both know you’d be lost without me.”
“Ugh,” Jesse groaned next to me and held up his drink. “I definitely need another.” A second later, a waiter took the empty glass and replaced it with a flute of champagne, and his eyes brightened. “Oh hey, that’s really great service.”
“So is Daddy Warbucks on the warpath? Eric is like a third-degree black belt in jiujitsu. He can—” Nate made a few demonstrative karate chops through the air “—if necessary.”
“Third-degree black belt in jiujitsu?” Chet cocked his head at Nate. Eric’s shoulders shook in silent laughter.
“Yeah, he…” Nate swiveled a look slowly toward Eric. “You motherfucker. That’s what youtoldme.Explicitly.”
“Oh, it wasveryexplicit, indeed.”
“It’s not true?”
“What were we doing at the time?”
Nate’s cheeks reddened, and Eric pressed the backs of his knuckles against one side of Nate’s face, still chuckling. “It was a white lie for the greater good.”
“There’ll be payback for that, asshole.”
“Does anyone see anything remotely approaching an eligible bachelor under the age of sixty-five? I’m not too picky. Even sixty-five and a half is acceptable, but I’m getting laid tonight.” Jesse scanned the crowd again and pouted.
“I see lots of cougars, for sure.” Sam grinned salaciously.
“I don’t want a cougar. I’ll definitely accept a…what’s the male version of a cougar? How do I not know this?”
“A manther.” Sam didn’t miss a beat.
We all stared at him.
“How do you even know that?” Jesse asked.
Sam shrugged. “I pick up on things. I’m not an idiot.” He patted Jesse’s armrest. “I can be your wingman if you want. I’m a great wingman.”
“You’re not the kind of wingman I need,” Jesse huffed.
“Why not? I can wingman for guys just as well as I can wingman for girls.”