“Perrin,” he said, placing a hand on my chest.
“Is it working?” I asked, leaning my forehead against his.
He surprised me by pressing his lips against mine hard and passionate, but closed, then the sides of his mouth quirked up.
“Nope, not at all,” he said, but his eyes were serious when they locked onto mine.
“Come on, Jack, let’s go somewhere and talk,” I said, resigned. He had been stronger, telling me about his hidden parts first, and now was my turn.
Within the half hour, we were across the street from our hotel, at a diner with jackets draped across the back of the booth, and both of us with loosenedbow tiesand sleeves rolled up, cufflinks resting in pockets. Our legs touched under the table, and the promise of greasy food was on the way and the dainty food of the gala long forgotten.
“So, your step-dad is Malcolm Stephens,” Jack began, moving his straw in his glass.
“Yeah,” I sighed. “Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, Jack,” I said lamely, reaching for his fingers across the table, and playing with them with my own.
“Tell me now, then.”
My eyes searched his a long time before I ever spoke.
“I grew up outside of Dallas completely, until I was 13. It was a small town, ranch land, of course,” I began, trying to stay focused on Jack and not the memories that wanted to pull me back in like the tide against sand. “I didn’t know it at the time, but my grandfather - that’s where the Thayer name comes from, owned about everything in that town as well as considerable oil and gas interests. My dad passed when I was young, and well, you met my mom. She wasn’t the type to care too much about leaving me and Christopher with willing, rich grandparents.”
Jack nodded, and so I swallowed and continued, telling him about being raised by the greatest man I ever met - EverrettThayer, my grandfather. The man was a legend where I grew up, and it made an impression, to be associated so intimately with someone people respected so highly. He was honest, giving, and generous - bridging the gap between love, discipline, and hard work in a way that was rare, especially in his generation.
“Their house was like Southfork,” I explained. “It was seriously close to something out of that old television show,” I laughed. “Manners were drilled into me, Presidents, Governors, people like that would swing by just to get my grandfather’s opinion about things that were happening. If the doorbell rang, you had to be ready for anything.”
“That must have been incredible,” Jack said.
“It was. He taught me to ski, actually, took us twice a year and then more when I wanted to try and do small competitions that weren’t too far from Texas. It wasn’t ever going to go anywhere, but I got the thrill of it, at least,” I sighed.
“Anyway, he passed when I was thirteen. My grandmother had passed before then. The last important talk I had with him was about how I thought I might be gay. He supported me, told me to be myself but not to worry about labeling anything, that I was too young for that.”
“Sounds like he was very understanding,” Jack said, his smile encouraging me to open up more.
“Well, there’s the part I left out - my mom remarried when I was ten. I couldn’t stand Malcolm from the moment I saw him,” I explained
Jack’s forehead furrowed. “I thought you didn’t move to Dallas until you were 13,” he said.
I nodded. “My grandfather didn’t care for my mom at all. But, Malcolm didn’t care for me, not really. So Christopher went with them to Dallas, when she married him, but I stayed with my grandfather.”
“That had to be hard, Perrin, to be separated from your family like that.”
I shook my head. “It was, but at the same time, it wasn’t. Christopher worshiped Malcolm, and I worshiped my grandfather and they were two very powerful but completely opposite men.”
I could tell Jack was trying to contemplate where Malcolm would have been in his professional life at this time. Malcolm Stephens had been a stand-out quarterback for the University of Texas and then had gone on to NFL fame. He came from a family flush with Texas oil money, and eventually owned a NFL team in Texas, was governor, Senator, and was only votes away from being the Republican Presidential nominee, twice. He was large,overbearing, and influential. He was off-putting to me, and I felt more at ease with the silent strength of my grandfather.
“He was going to be running for the Republican nomination, so marrying my mom made sense. It gave him stability, a solid family name that pre-dated statehood, roots in ranching and oil, not just in the new money and flash that Malcolm already had,” I explained. “I was a problem, though. I didn’t like him, and I wasn’t old enough to know how not to show it. I think my grandfather knew, before I confessed about it, that I was gay,” I admitted. “He tried to protect me. Malcolm was the front-runner in the Texas-led ‘family-values’ platform. An accepted gay son was not part of that picture.”
“That’s why you stayed with your grandfather?”
“Part of it. And I stayed until he passed, then I had no choice, but,” I sighed, “Everett Thayer left everything to me, Jack. Hemeanteverythingto me. Malcolm thought my mom would get some of the assets when he passed, thathewould, but my grandfather was smarter than that. He put it in trust, with a friend of his, not even my mom as trustee. He left Christopher a trust, enough to make him comfortable, but all the significant assets went to me.”
“Significant?”
I sighed again. “Christopher’s trust would earn him 3 million a year on the principal, worst case scenario.”
“But you got thesignificantassets,” Jack said, catching my eyes.
“I did, yes,” I said.
