Mine (19 page)

“Yes, ma’am, of course I do.”

She looked at me, waiting, then at Landry, who was also waiting, both of us ready for her to tell us the plan.

“I….” She stammered, looked at her husband. “Neil?”

He looked at Landry and me. “Boys, we… Trevan….”

“Sir?”

“Do you understand how wildly inappropriate this is to ask? I mean, we don’t want Landry in a homosexual relationship. We don’t want him in the business he’s in, consorting with people below his station. You understand that we want him to stay here with us and for you to leave.”

“You do?” I smiled at him. “I thought you liked me.”

“I––we––”

“I know I surprised you, both of us did probably. Landry’s different.”

“Yes he is,” his father agreed with me. “But Trevan, the path Landry’s on is not the one we want him to follow.”

“Maybe,” I assented, “but what you want or think isn’t gonna change anything. You get that, right? He loves me, he loves my family—my mother especially—he loves his business, and he loves Detroit, his friends, all of it. So you have, like, zero chance of screwing up my life by taking him away from me.”

“I—”

My hand went up to shut him up. “So let’s get beyond all that. Forget it. I figured maybe you’d want to take a shot at knowing Landry, getting your family back together and all. Do you?”

He stared at me.

“Sir?”

“You are just the strangest man I’ve ever met.”

I grunted. “Yeah, well, I’ve had a weird few days.”

“Trevan—”

“Thanksgiving’s in like two weeks. Whaddya say?”

“I say yes,” Cece chimed in, nodding. “I want everyone together.”

I turned to look at Jocelyn. “You and Hugh? Yeah or no?”

She shook her head.

“Okay, so, maybe you bring someone new, huh?”

Her eyes were leaking tears as she looked at me. “You would… that would… yeah?”

“’Course. You’re the one we give a shit about; bring whoever the hell you want. We’re a warm welcome just waiting to happen.”

“Yeah,” Landry told her, taking her hand. “You can come see my shop, and if you want, maybe you can stay. I would love it, and what’s keeping you here?”

She nodded, her voice gone.

“It would be nice,” I told her.

“I would love it,” she said.

Landry beamed at her, kissing her hand, leaning his cheek on it. Of all of them, I could tell she was the one he liked best. They actually had a chance at the brother/sister bonding thing if she visited and played her cards right.

Scott looked incensed. “What the hell is—”

“Me,” Chris said suddenly. “For Thanksgiving? Lan?”

“I gave you a bracelet, didn’t I?”

He sucked in his breath.

“Even though you thought I was a drug addict and a crazy person, I forgive you.” He smiled at his brother. “I’ll even let you sleep on my couch if Scott doesn’t want it.”

“I’m not going to Detroit for—” Scott started, but his mother cut him off.

“Suit yourself,” Cece told him. “The rest of us will be in Detroit for Thanksgiving.”

“Mother, have you lost your mind? You can’t go to Detroit!” he yelled, getting up, beginning to pace. “Dad!”

“Your mother never wants to go anywhere,” Neil Carter told his son. “She’s been too scared to leave her doctor. But now she wants to take a trip, which I hope will be the first of many.” He sighed deeply. “Oh yes, Scott, we are most definitely going to Detroit.”

Whatever Neil Carter thought about me didn’t matter in the least. His wife wanting to travel he took as a very good sign. Landry being willing to reconnect, give them a chance, was more than he could have asked for, and now he finally saw it. He was not going to miss the opportunity to be with either one of them.

“I look forward to us having an adventure together,” he told his wife.

Cece put her hand on his face, and he covered it with his own, the love in his eyes easy to see. Watching his wife want to do something, want to travel, to live, that was gutting him.

“Me too,” she told him. “Maybe afterwards we could go to New York. I haven’t been to Broadway in a hundred years.”

“I would love that,” he said breathlessly.

“Good,” she said before turning to smile at me. “It’s settled. We’ll be there, and if there’s a change and I can’t, you’ll come back to see me, won’t you, Trevan?”

“Yes,” I promised her.

She reached for me and took my hand. “Thank you, for everything.”

“You’re welcome.”

When she let me go, I turned back to my boyfriend. He was looking at me.

“What?”

“It won’t ever be like yours, Trev. You get that, don’t you?”

His family was not like mine—yeah, I knew that.

“It’s cold in Detroit,” Scott muttered a second later.

We all looked at him.

“It is, right?”

“You can borrow a coat,” I promised him.

He shot me a look and I laughed, which turned the grin he was working hard at not allowing into a full-blown smile.

Landry was stunned.

Jocelyn burst into giggles.

Chris obviously had no idea that Scott’s face could do that, smile.

It was nice.

“Trevan.”

I looked back at Cece.

“It’s you, you did this. You gave me my family back.”

“No,” I corrected her, tipping my head at Landry. “It’s him. My dad always said if your family is together, everything will be all right. Your family wasn’t together, but now it is.”

“Now it is,” she agreed, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Dr. Armstrong, are you all right?” Landry asked him.

“Yes, Landry,” he said and cleared his throat. “I am.”

My boyfriend turned and smiled at me. “You’re right, weird couple of days.”

Truly.

M
R
. C
ARTER
, who I’d thought didn’t love his son, mauled Landry at the breakfast table, hugging him so tight he couldn’t breathe. I liked it; breathing was overrated anyway. And after that, the light came from heaven just like it did on Paul on the road from Damascus, and the man apologized to me. Gay or not, poor or not, ethnic or not, I seemed to be an excellent influence on Landry, and his wife liked me. He actually hugged me, which freaked Landry out a little and his brother Scott a lot. It was funny.

Jocelyn explained about Hugh after Dr. Armstrong and Dr. Kellum left, about how she had been cheating on her husband and how great Hugh was being about it, how he just wanted an amicable divorce and for them to split everything fifty-fifty. She thought that they might even still be able to be friends and really hoped so. He was her best friend, and not being able to talk to him about the affair was the part that had hurt.

I didn’t understand about being friends with exes unless no one had done anything wrong and you just got sick of looking at each other. It was beyond me. But more power to Hugh if he could let it go, his wife’s betrayal, and not be bitter. He was a better man than I was.

While I enjoyed sitting there listening to everyone talk, watching Landry, I realized that he was still not engaged. At home, at family dinners, holidays, barbecues, whatever, Landry sat and argued and laughed and was loud. He was asked his opinion and gave it, sometimes harshly, sometimes gently, but never shyly, never like he was being now. It was not in him to sit back and simply observe. That he was doing so pained me.

“Quit,” he said softly.

My eyes met his.

“It’s not the same.” He spoke the words under his breath. “I know your family. I don’t know mine.”

My heart hurt for him even as he pressed into my side.

Later, as I stood looking out at the enormous grounds, the man-made lake, and the edge of the stables, Mr. Carter walked up beside me.

“I hadn’t counted on Landry returning home,” he said to me. “I never thought he’d come. It makes everything so much easier.”

I wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but I let it go.

“Thank you,” he said, tipping his head at his wife and children sitting at the table. “We’re a family too. We might not be one you understand, but we are one.”

I turned to look at him. “I only make judgments if he gets hurt, Mr. Carter, not for any other reason.”

“Your own pride, your own comfort, doesn’t factor into things?”

“No, sir, not if you love someone.”

“We agree on that,” he said even as he caught his breath. Something was wrong, but I didn’t know the man well enough to pry.

L
ANDRY
surprised the hell out of me, and even though I was worried, I was glad to see him trusting us to be apart.

I had to go home; his father had asked him to stay through the weekend. Landry had agreed and planned to fly back Sunday morning because he needed to be back at work on Monday. He had inventory and ordering to do, and billing and all sorts of assorted paperwork hell. So I was leaving that night, Thursday, and I’d see him in two days. The fact that he felt good enough to let me get on a plane without him made me happier than I could express. And I hoped that time alone with his family would bring closeness. Maybe it was me. Maybe without my presence, they would all rebond. I was hopeful. I had a twinge of worry, but he had shown them, and me, how strong he was, how in control. I left that afternoon, and he was bouncing up and down in the back seat of the limousine as Chris told him that they were all going hot air ballooning the next morning.

Outside departures, I kissed him and told him I loved him.

“I know.” He smiled wide. “Take care of things at home and let me know exactly what’s going on tonight when you call me.”

“I will,” I told him, leaning in and kissing his cheek. I waved from the curb afterward.

My phone rang when I was in line to get coffee. “Yes, dear?” I teased him.

“I just, uhm, had this horrible revelation.”

“What’s that?”

“You’re happy I’m staying here because you’re worried that you’re gonna go home and somebody’s gonna kill you, huh?”

“Actually, that thought had not crossed my mind.” I chuckled. God, his brain. “I was just happy that your father asked and you said yes is all.”

“Oh. Who’s picking you up at the airport?”

“Javier and Dave.”

“Okay, tell them I said hi.”

“I will. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said, but he sounded wilted before he hung up.

The plane ride home was nice. I sat beside a mother with an infant in her lap and a toddler in the seat between us. He was cute and wanted to talk, and I gave him my phone to play games on.

“Ohmygod, thank you,” his mother said, gripping my arm.

“It’s fine,” I assured her.

When I changed planes in Dallas, I was sitting next to two guys who were wannabe gangsters. Ever since I was a child, my father used to smile and say that his son did not suffer fools. Nothing had changed. I leaned against the window, closed my eyes, and went to sleep.

In the terminal, I saw Javier and Dave. Hard to miss them in their suits and trench coats and scarves.

“Why are you guys dressed up?”

“I came from work.” Javier chuckled, his hand on my shoulder. “And Dave is dressed like an adult because, lo and behold, he had a job interview today.”

I looked at my friend. “And?”

“I dunno.” He shrugged. “He took me for drinks after.”

“That’s gotta be good,” I said, looking back at Javier.

“God, I hope so. Being the breadwinner in this family sucks.”

At which point my friend Dave, whom I had known since the fifth grade, smacked his boyfriend of four years really hard.

“Crap,” Javier groaned, squeezing my shoulder.

They were good together, and even though Dave had been looking for a job going on six months, they were still doing fine and had not, Javier assured me, had to dip into their savings. Tall, tan, beautiful Javier Gomez and short, bald, round David Schroeder made love look effortless and sweet. Sometimes guys looked at Dave and thought they could take Javier from him, and then Javier himself would quickly, easily, and effectively shut them down. No, Dave was not a super model, but God, Javier worshipped the ground the man walked on and vice versa. They were what I wanted for me and Landry.

“Where’s your boy?” Dave asked me suddenly, squinting.

“He stayed with his parents in Vegas until Saturday. He’ll be back Sunday night.”

“Oh.” Javier looked at Dave, who lifted his eyebrows and then turned back to me. “Was that a good idea, darling?”

I shrugged. “Sure, he’s fine there.”

He nodded slowly. “Okay.”

I looked at Dave; he forced a smile and nodded too.

“Will you two knock it off? Landry’s not broken; he can handle a lot of shit by himself.”

“Yes,” Javier agreed, “but not as much as you think. C’mon, let’s get you some food.”

The drive was nice, as was the company and the banter and dinner at one of my favorite places. I got treated, too, which was the best part. Once they dumped me at home, I staggered into my bedroom and passed out.

I thought I had been asleep for hours, but when I opened my eyes, it had been maybe twenty minutes. The reason I was up was that my phone had rung, and after a minute of fumbling around, I answered it even though it was not a number I knew.

“Hello?”

“Trevan?”

“Yep.” I was barely awake.

“This is Jo.”

“Oh, hey, how’s Landry?”

“Well, after all that this morning—” She paused and sucked in her breath. “As of right now, Landry’s having a meltdown.”

“Define ‘meltdown’.”

“He’s bouncing off the walls.”

I grunted. “Did he eat?”

“What?”

“Feed him. When he’s hungry, he gets antsy and sort of frantic. Feed him, preferably like a big hamburger or something heavy so he’ll sleep.”

“You’re serious.”

“Yeah, go ask him if he wants to eat. I’ll stay on the phone.”

The sound was muffled, and I started to drift.

“Ohmygod, Trevan.”

“Yes, I’m awake.”

“That—he’s hungry.”

“Yeah, I know, gotta go, falling asleep,” I cut her off. “Put him on the phone.”

“Are you—”

“Please.”

Again there was muted noise, and then, “Trev?”