For Mac (17 page)

“Is not ready for that,” Liam finished. “Let me amend my promise, then. I will never do anything you are not ready for.”

“But I don’t want to be the one to take the first step either.” Branson looked directly at Liam. “Somehow, if you start it, it’s not so bad. It wouldn’t be
me
wanting it, asking for it, deciding.” He looked away again.

Liam hooked a finger under Branson’s chin and brought it back to face him. “I won’t make the decision for you, but if you ever think you’re ready for that, tell me, somehow, and I will have no problem being the one who kisses you first.”

They looked at each other for the longest time, and Liam finally pulled back. “I better go home now.”

Branson looked puzzled. “Why?”

“Because you’re not ready for anything right now, and”—Liam stood up—“I’m only human. I don’t want to screw this up.”

Branson stood, too, and walked Liam to the door.

“Are you okay to be by yourself?” Liam pulled up short, suddenly thinking about everything before the current conversation. “I… that was pretty intense… that story you told me, and I appreciate your trusting me enough to tell me all that. I don’t want to repay your trust by leaving you when you’re upset.”

Branson grinned. “I don’t want you to leave. But I understand why, and I actually appreciate it. I’m not upset. I got over all that a long time ago, and I’ve never felt suicidal again.” Branson gripped Liam’s shoulder. “Don’t worry.”

“Will you be coming to Mac’s tomorrow? I know you’re off work for the holiday.”

“You still work, right?” Branson asked to confirm, and when Liam nodded, he continued. “I’d planned on coming over around lunchtime. Thought I’d bring subs for us, if you want me to… we can eat lunch together, I’ll hang out with Mac until you get off, and then I’d hoped you’d ride along with me to the bookstore. Book two of the
Quantum Thief
trilogy is coming out, and I wanted to go pick up a copy.”

“That sounds great.” Liam smiled in earnest. “See you tomorrow.”

Liam walked to the car, thinking of how close he had come to losing Branson before he ever got a chance to know him and vowed he would do everything in his power to keep Branson in his life now. Even if that was only ever as friends.

Branson

B
RANSON
MET
Liam for lunch and then went in to see Mac.

“Hey, brother,” he greeted him as he always did and pulled a chair beside his bed. “Oh, Mac, are you even in there at all? I’m trying to hang on here, man, but I’ve got to tell you, I’m getting so tired. Every time you have a seizure or get a fever, I lose a little more of you. I need you, Mac. I need you to wake the hell up and tell me what to do. ’Cause I gotta tell ya, bro, I’m losing the battle here. The battle to be patient with you, the battle to not be attracted to Liam. All I have is your attitude, though, Mac. The only reason I’ve ever thought it was wrong to be attracted to other males is because you said it was. Wake up, Mac. And tell me why. Why is it wrong? Why are you so dead set against it? Why shouldn’t I act on my attraction to Liam?”

He collapsed against the bed, his head on his brother’s hand. “Why should I have to keep pretending to be something I’m not, or pretending not to be something I am? Mac.” He looked up again and wished he could meet his brother’s eyes. “Tell me why I shouldn’t be with Liam.”

He felt eyes on his back and whipped around.

Liam was standing in the doorway with an apprehensive expression. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, Bran. I really didn’t.” When Branson dropped his head back to the bed, Liam continued. “I came in to start Mac’s lunch… put the Ensure in the… you know what I mean.” He came closer to Branson’s chair and reached out but stopped before he touched him. “I didn’t mean to hear all that. You know that, don’t you?”

Branson didn’t look up but answered, “Yeah, I know, Liam.”

“Can I touch your shoulder, please?” Liam reached out again, but didn’t want to touch without express permission.

Branson looked up. “You don’t have to ask to touch my shoulder, Liam.” He tried to grin.

“I felt I did this time.” Liam clasped Branson’s shoulder. “It’s not like any of that is a secret, right? You told me you were attracted to me… well, sort of. And I’ve told you I’m attracted to you.”

“I know.” Branson put his hand over Liam’s, still on his shoulder. “I don’t know what to do.”

Liam pulled a chair over beside Branson and sat down. “There’s no pressure to do anything, Bran.” He put his hand back on Branson’s shoulder. “You do whatever you feel is right… but what
you
think is right. No one should have so much power over you that you reinvent yourself to please them.” He reached out and put a hand on Mac’s hand. “Not even you, Mac. You can’t tell someone how to live, who to be, especially not someone you love.”

Branson grinned. “He wouldn’t listen to you even before the accident.”

Liam grinned back and squeezed Branson’s shoulder. “Just think on it, man. But… there’s no pressure from me either way, okay?”

Branson nodded, and Liam silently went about his work, pouring Ensure into the bag and turning on the pump to push the food slowly into the feeding tube attached to Mac’s stomach. By the time he finished, the tension in the room had eased enough that Liam felt he could ask the question he had been wanting to ask.

“Hey, Bran,” he asked. “My family is having a big gathering tomorrow. It’s me nephew Shawn’s seventh birthday, and—”

“Two days after Thanksgiving?” Branson interrupted.

“At least it’s
after
this year. The year he was born, the little imp came right in the middle of our Thanksgiving dinner.”

“Well.” Branson laughed. “That was inconsiderate of him.”

“T’was, t’wasn’t it?” Liam chuckled.

“So it’s his birthday party tomorrow, and all the family’s getting together?” Branson clarified.

“We do it for all the kids’ birthdays. They can either have friends to the same party, or sometimes they get two parties—one for friends and one for family. That’s what we did for Aaron’s party. Katie had the one for all his preschool friends, and then we had a family get-together the next day. Just dinner and a cake, and of course presents.”

“Of course.” Branson chuckled.

“So anyway, big family get-together tomorrow,” Liam redirected. “Would love for you to come with me.”

“Your family wouldn’t mind me just showing up?” Branson was not sure about this. “And what about Shawn? It’s his party, and he doesn’t even know me.”

“If you bring a present, which I have already taken the liberty of buying and wrapping for you to bring, then Shawn won’t really care if he knows you or not.” Liam grinned. “And the rest of the family has been dying to meet you.” Liam must have picked up on Branson’s apprehension. “Yes, I’ve been telling them about you, about me terrific,
straight
, friend that I met at work, and whom I’ve been spending a lot of time with, doing things I also enjoy doing with me brother.” When Branson still didn’t respond, Liam continued. “They know I’m gay, Bran, and they’re all cool with that. But they don’t automatically assume that any male friend I have is also gay.”

Branson finally shook himself out of his trance. “I guess I know that, intellectually… but… it’s not really true in this case, Liam. I’m not sure I’m all that straight, and I
am
attracted to you and you to me, so I’m sure watching movies with me isn’t like watching them with your brother.” Bran felt it was time to inject some humor. “Unless you have a
very
strange family, indeed.”

Liam chuckled. “We’re all daft, that’s for sure, but we’re not quite that strange.”

“To answer your question, though”—Branson smiled as he answered—“yeah, I’ll go to the party with you. As much as you talk about your family, I have to admit, I am curious. I’d love to meet them.”

Liam smiled, and they made plans for the following day.

B
RANSON
WAS
ready and waiting when Liam picked him up at ten o’clock the next morning.

“The party doesn’t start until twelve, but I thought you’d like to get to know my folks before everyone gets there, and possibly Katie and Lizzie. When they heard I was bringing you, they threatened to come early.”

Branson wasn’t sure he liked how that sounded. “It sounds like they think we’re… I mean, if they think I’m that important… I mean, surely they don’t act like that with all your friends.”

Liam reached over as he drove and touched Branson’s knee. “They know the score, Bran,” he assured. “They suspect that I’m attracted to you—and I actually told me ma that I was—but they know that we’re just friends, and more importantly, they know to behave! Though me sisters don’t have a knack for behaving, even when they know they should.”

Branson chuckled. “Okay.” He thought he could handle that. As long as everyone knew he wasn’t gay. Then he added, “I won’t freak on you, even if they don’t behave.”

L
IAM
’
S
TWO
sisters were indeed at his parents’ house early, but to Liam’s apparent surprise, they were actually rather sedate. His mother was at the door before they could get out of the car, but she seemed placid as well. Liam said later that she usually would have rushed toward Liam and engulfed him in the biggest hug that her five-foot-two-inch frame could manage. He had told Branson that he always got a kick out of the fact that her name, Aideen, meant “little fire,” and she lived up to it in every situation.

“Hello, lad.” She held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Liam has told me what a good friend you’ve been. Any friend of Liam’s….” She drifted away from the cliché and chuckled.

“Nice to meet you too, ma’am.” Branson shook her hand.

“You don’t have to call me ma’am, lad.” She chuckled. “Most everyone calls me ‘Ma,’ and you’re certainly welcome to, but Aideen is fine if you’d be more comfortable with that… or if you’re more comfortable, I’ll answer to Mrs. Sullivan.” She grinned again. “But I much prefer ‘Ma.’”

Branson actually chuckled as he thought of how closely this meeting resembled Liam’s introduction to Amy’s mom. “I have a family friend that everyone calls ‘Mama White.’ I would be honored to call you Ma, ma’am.”

She giggled, and Branson had to join in when he realized what he had done. “I mean, Ma.”

L
IAM
GOT
called away to help set up for the party, and Mrs. Sullivan asked for Branson’s help in the kitchen. They talked easily about anything and everything while they got the food out for the grill, since lunch was part of the party.

“So what should I be calling you, laddie?” Mrs. Sullivan asked in an accent that, of course, matched Liam’s. “Me Liam calls you Branson, Bran, or Branny by turns, but that doesn’t really tell me what you’d like
me
to call you.”

Branson chuckled. “Either, though I prefer Branson or Bran. I’ve never really liked being called Branny. Mac, my brother, usually called me that when he was picking on me. Amy, a longtime friend, sort of picked it up, and her husband calls me that from time to time because she does. Liam picked it up from them.”

“But you don’t really like it?”

“I don’t mind it so much anymore, I guess. I tolerate it.”

“You shouldn’t have to. I’ll see if I can sneak it into conversation with me son that you don’t really like ‘Branny.’”

“No, don’t do that.” Branson grinned, then looked away. “I don’t mind it so much when
he
calls me that. It doesn’t feel like teasing when he does it. It feels….” He trailed off and made himself make eye contact again. “I don’t mind
him
calling me ‘Branny.’” Then he realized how that sounded. “And you too, of course. It would be fine if you called me that too.”

Mrs. Sullivan chuckled, but then stated, “You should be called what you want to be called, by whom you want to be called that. I’ll stick to Branson or Bran. Both fine names.” Then she turned it into a joke. “But I might have to be calling you an ambulance if you don’t watch what you’re doing with that knife. You’re supposed to be cutting the carrots, not your fingertips.”

The knife hadn’t really been that close to his fingers, but he took it for the mood lightener that it was supposed to be and made a big deal of laying the knife down with exaggerated carefulness and stepping away from the cutting board with his hands up in surrender.

She handed him a butter knife and some homemade rolls. “Here, butter these. Can’t hurt yourself with
that
knife.”

They both chuckled, and he went back to cutting the carrots as soon as he’d buttered the rolls, knowing that she didn’t really think him incapable of the task and forever grateful that she could use humor to defuse a situation that could have become uncomfortable.

T
HE
REST
of the day was easy and calming. Branson hadn’t been sure how well he’d fit into Liam’s family, especially a large gathering the first time they met, but they seemed to welcome him immediately. The kids were polite and curious, and after he loosened up, he was running with Liam, chasing them around the yard.

He liked Patrick, who was Shawn’s father and Liam’s older brother. He picked on Liam unmercifully, and Branson got a feeling that if he stuck around long enough, Patrick wouldn’t be able to keep from teasing him too. Liam said later that his brother had been on his best behavior that day.

Liam’s older sister, Katie, was sweet and motherly with the children, but gave as good as she got with the adults, which was considerable at times. Everyone in the family tended to tease each other, and teased harder the closer they were to a specific individual. Lizzie, the youngest sibling, was as wide-open as the kids most of the time. She was twenty years old, but as Liam said, she was still very much in touch with her inner child. Liam’s father, Collin, was the quiet one of the bunch. He spoke when necessary, teased here and there, but largely kept his own counsel and watched everything unfold around him, missing nothing.