Home and Away (34 page)

He tried to let her go, in case, but she wasn’t having it.

“I’ve always known,” Michaela offered in a calm, reassuring voice.

Mitch arched one eyebrow, but his gaze didn’t leave Callum.

“It was my idea that we date,” Michaela continued. “I thought it would give us both a reprieve from the press. The scrutiny. I didn’t realize how easy it would be to let it go on for so long.” She shrugged, her eyes pleading as she held Abby’s gaze.

If he weren’t such a self-absorbed asshole, Callum would have realized his declaration was going to impact Michaela’s friendships with Mitch and Abby—particularly Abby—just as much as it would his own.

Callum lifted their joined hands to kiss the back of Michaela’s. “She’s my best friend. I would never do anything to hurt her,” he promised, hoping Mitch and Abby believed him. “Neither of us could ever have fathomed how easy the lie would be. How quickly the press and the public would take to it. And then…”

He trailed off when Mitch started to nod, hoping that was some indication of acceptance. At this point, Callum was counting himself damn lucky he hadn’t been punched in the face and tossed out on his ass.

“I get it,” Mitch said, sounding surprised by that fact, but earnest.

“You do?” asked Callum. Would it be weird to ask Mitch to explain it to
him
?

“I was there, Callum. We were drafted the same year. If I’d been you, well…I get it. My brother didn’t tell me until he was twenty-two. By that age you were in the big show, the entire world watching you.”

“I still should have said something. To you, at least. Once we were friends.”

Mitch frowned and looked at Abby, then down at his plate. “Let’s be honest. Hockey is behind the times. It’s getting better, but there’s a reason you didn’t know about my brother until Abby told Michaela. It’s not that I’m ashamed. I’m not. I love Dave, and David, his husband, is one of my best friends. It’s just—”

“I get it,” Callum said firmly, a knot he’d carried for longer than he could remember loosening in his chest.

For a moment, no one said anything. Abby leaned across the table and took Michaela’s hand. Michaela’s relieved smile was wide, her grip on Callum’s hand fierce.

Then Callum simply couldn’t stand it. “Your brother’s name is David, and he married a man named David?”

Mitch rolled his eyes, chuckling. “It turns out there are these rare, unexpected challenges to same-sex marriage.”

Callum laughed as the tension around the table finally broke, the acceptance and warmth from the people around him making him lightheaded with relief.

He tried not to dwell on the fact that no matter how good this felt, how important it was, it hadn’t done a damn thing to fill the hole in his heart.

Of all the lessons Rupert had learned about parenthood over the summer, he wondered how he’d forgotten, of all things, what a nightmare it was to travel with a small child.

Oliver was being really good, so Rupert shouldn’t complain. Certainly he wasn’t tantruming like the hell-born spawn who’d terrorized the entire Toronto Airport for the half hour they’d been waiting to board their flight to Boston.

And he had Christian, who’d been an enormous help the entire way, provided Rupert could ignore the constant fidgeting. Christian had probably burned off a day’s worth of calories from leg-bouncing alone, but he’d also helped Rupert with the luggage and held Oliver’s hand whenever Rupert needed to dig out documentation.

There’d been a moment in Toronto that he’d worried they weren’t going to let him leave the country with Christian, but he’d presented the raft of paperwork his attorneys had promised would take care of things, and it had worked. Oliver was easier, since absolutely everyone assumed he was Rupert’s son.

Christian only got more fidgety as the day went on, until finally, as their plane approached Logan Airport and the ocean was spread out beneath them, Rupert clamped a hand over Christian’s knee.

“What’s going on, kiddo?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.” He couldn’t have been less convincing if he’d tried.

“Do you not want to go?” A thought occurred to Rupert. “Are you upset at Callum?”

“No!”

“Okay. Good. Then tell me what’s on your mind. You seem upset.”

“I’m not upset,” he said before worrying his lips between his teeth. “I guess I’m just nervous. I don’t know anyone who’s going to be there. And I’ve never been out of Canada before. Or on a plane,” he mumbled at the end.

“What?”

He shrugged, as if it was nothing. “It’s cool. I like it.”

Well, that was something, but it didn’t stop Rupert from feeling like a world-class idiot.

“I’m sorry, Christian. I didn’t know. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I don’t know. You made it all seem easy and I didn’t want to seem stupid or whatever.”

“You’re not stupid.”

Oliver’s head popped up from where he was intensely focused on Rupert’s iPad. “That’s a bad word.”

“Right,” Rupert agreed. “We don’t say stupid. We don’t call other people stupid, and we
certainly
don’t call ourselves that.”

Christian nodded, still looking at his hands in his lap. Rupert jostled his knee until he looked up.

“Is that all that’s bothering you?”

Christian shrugged, which Rupert took to mean it was not.

“You know, my dad never made me talk about stuff like this. He just ignored it.”

Of course he had. “Well, that’s not how I do things.”

“Is it because you’re gay?” Christian asked curiously.

Rupert used Christian’s favorite weapon against him and rolled his eyes. “No. In fact, until this summer, I was really good at ignoring stuff like this, too. But that’s not how this family operates any longer.” Rupert ran a hand over Oliver’s head.

“How come?”

“Because Callum pointed out that was…” Rupert struggled to find an appropriate word.

“Stupid?” Christian asked with a smirk.

“Yes, stupid,” Rupert conceded. “And wrong. It certainly wasn’t going to make it any easier for Oliver to come live with me. Or you.”

“Do you miss him?”

Rupert didn’t have to ask who. “Yes. Very much.”
Every day. All damn day.

“Me, too,” Christian said quietly.

Callum had Skyped with them for hours since he’d left. Rupert always answered his call and smiled and asked how things were going, and when he couldn’t take it anymore, he’d pass the iPad to one of the boys so they could tear off to the couch together with it, tucking themselves close to each other so they could both be on the screen and see Callum.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see Callum more. To talk to him. But he could only take so much of his wan smile, the winces when he shifted his legs or rolled his shoulders, the haunted look in his eyes that Rupert knew was reflected back in his own. Eventually he’d beg to come to Denver, if even just for a visit. Or ask Callum when he was coming home.

This was going to be a very long weekend.

The sound of their landing gear dropping distracted Rupert and had Christian pressing his face to the window. It wasn’t until the three of them were through Customs and Immigration and the baggage claim and possibly the sixth ring of hell that Rupert realized Christian had very effectively dodged the question of what else was bothering him.

Such a bright, dear, and sneaky boy.

Rupert promised himself he’d address it again later. For now, he needed to get them out of this airport. He’d intended to rent a car to drive the two hours to the northwest corner of Connecticut, but those plans had changed the second Garrick had heard. He, Savannah, and Rhian had
insisted
they could pick them up at the airport and deliver them to the family reunion.

The family reunion for the family they were not a part of.

He turned to ask Christian if this was part of what was bothering him, and found him watching Rupert closely.

“It going to be fine,” Rupert said firmly.

Christian gave him a bland look. Rupert’s efforts at confidence bolstering had obviously failed.

“Rupert!”

They turned to see Rhian jogging toward them, smiling and waving. When he dodged to the side, Rupert saw he towed Savannah in his wake, her hand clasped tightly in his.

Rupert grinned, relieved to see familiar faces, and such happy ones to boot. He put his hand on Christian’s shoulder and checked that Christian still had a hold of Oliver’s hand.

“Rhian. Savannah. I’d like you to meet my boys, Oliver and Christian.”

Rupert didn’t bother explaining the details, as he knew Callum had told his mother most of it, and had assured him the Morrison phone tree had probably been lit up like Christmas for the rest of the night after that.

Rhian smiled at them shyly, but Savannah stepped forward, shaking Christian’s hand, then dropping to her knees to do the same with Oliver.

It was precisely what Callum would have done. Perhaps that was why Oliver slid forward and wrapped his arms around her neck. She hugged him back, her smile soft, expression delighted.

“This is nice. Thank you,” she said warmly, pulling back to look into his face. She glanced up at Rupert. “The resemblance is remarkable.”

“I’m Rupert’s Mini-Me,” Oliver declared.

“Oh, yeah?” Rhian asked.

“That’s what Alexei always tells me,” Oliver explained.

Rhian and Savannah laughed.

“We love Alexei. He’s our friend, too,” Savannah said with a big smile. Clearly this was all the character reference Oliver needed, given the way he beamed and put his hand in hers.

“You look just like Mimi,” he announced, as if returning the favor of her compliment.

Savannah’s smile froze for a moment before it bloomed into a full-blown grin.

“
Mimi
, huh?”

“Yeah, that’s Callum’s mum. Yours, too, right?”

“That’s right,” Savannah said as she stood, keeping hold of Oliver’s hand. She glanced at Rupert, her eyes narrowing as she studied whatever she saw there. Then she smiled at Christian. “Well, I guess if she’s already adopted all of you, it’s my job to welcome you to the family.”

“Thank you,” Christian said, almost bashful.

Honestly, Rupert was falling in love, too, and Savannah was very much not his type.

Rhian squeezed Rupert’s shoulder and winked down at Christian, confessing, “I’m adopted, too.”

Christian gawped at the very handsome and young Rhian Savage, and—if Rupert had to guess—fell in love again, though perhaps in a slightly different way.

Christian had good taste in men already.

They grabbed their bags and found Garrick waiting at the curb in a minivan they’d apparently rented. Inside, there was a carseat waiting, and a collection of the kids’ favorite snacks.

Callum’s doing, Rupert could guess. What the hell Savannah, Garrick, and Rhian thought of all this, he couldn’t imagine. Then again, Rupert thought as Savannah and her men clasped hands between the front seats for a moment, they weren’t likely to judge.

The drive flew by, giving Garrick and Rupert time to catch up on all things Ice Cats related, and Savannah time to thoroughly captivate Rupert’s children. The countryside was lovely, and Rupert made certain to point out the quaint villages as they rolled through. Oliver couldn’t have cared less, but Christian seemed fascinated by the strange signs—“Why is everything in miles,not kilometers?”— and new sights. Rupert made a mental note to plan a trip somewhere soon. He wanted to show Christian the whole world, if he could.

Maybe starting with Denver.

Squashing that thought, Rupert gazed out the window and tried not to be nervous about their arrival.

Callum paced the length of Concourse C in the Denver Airport, gnashing his teeth. His flight had been delayed because of mechanical issues, and now cancelled for the same. Not that he was particularly eager to get on a malfunctioning plane, but this whole weekend had been highly ill-advised
before
Rupert had ended up at the mercy of Callum’s entire family without him there as a buffer.

It was getting late, and the chances of his successfully getting on the already over-sold flight later that afternoon were slim. Slim enough that he’d booked a seat on the red-eye, just in case. That, though, wouldn’t put him into New York until some god-awful hour of the morning, and then he’d have to drive two hours out of the city to get to his parents’ house.

Leaving Rupert, alone and unprotected, with Callum’s family for an entire afternoon and night.

He seriously considered calling Savannah and begging her to tuck Rupert and the boys into the Inn for the night without taking them to the house first, but knew that would be the equivalent of waving a red flag in the face of his bull-headed family. They would probably all decamp to the Inn immediately.

Callum ran his fingers through his hair, grabbing a good hank of it and tugging. When he turned, there was a young boy and his mother watching him. The boy stared up at him in awe.

Callum patted down his crazy hair and smiled. “Hello.”

“Are you Callum Morrison?” the boy asked breathlessly.

Callum crouched down to his height and stuck out his hand. “I am. What’s your name?”

“Dougie,” he offered with a shy handshake.

“Hi, Dougie. How old are you? Four?”

His eyes went round. “How’d you know?”

“Well, I have a boy your age,” he said without thinking. His heart sank. When he glanced up at Dougie’s mom, she was staring down at him with a bemused expression on her face. “I mean, I have a friend. Who’s a boy. Who’s four.”

Great. Now he sounded like an idiot or a creep.

He kept his smile firmly in place and chatted with Dougie for a while, keeping one ear out for announcements about his standby flight. He happily signed Dougie’s hat, and a napkin from a nearby bar for Dougie to give to his father when they saw him next. And all the while, his heart ached for how much he missed Oliver. Dougie’s high voice cut through the crowd noises the same way, his quick smile infectious. The way he glanced over his shoulder to check in with his mom because he wasn’t sure about something or just because he wanted to know she was there.

That was what Oliver used to do. With Callum. And Callum hadn’t appreciated how much it had meant until he’d lost it.