9
“So, Sweet pea.” Aunt Brenda ladled more gravy onto Avery’s plate. “How’s the apartment? Need anything? I saw a salad spinner on sale this week.”
“I already bought one.” And he’d used it too. Watching the little droplets of water hit the sides of the bowl was super satisfying. He’d eaten a ton of lettuce, but the extra salads were worth it.
“How are things at work?”
“Fine.” He glanced at Uncle Theo, opposite him. Two men in navy suits had been in Uncle Theo’s office for more than an hour that afternoon. None of their clients dressed that well, which meant they were lawyers or bankers. Neither option sounded good, but Avery couldn’t share that kind of information with his aunt. If Uncle Theo wasn’t talking about it, Avery was going to have to hold his tongue.
“I had lunch at the diner with Penny and Carol Anne today,” Brenda said.
Avery let the familiar chatter wash over him as they talked about the diner Penny’s husband owned and how Carol Anne’s grandson would be going into fourth grade in the fall.
“I think you’d be a big hit,” Aunt Brenda said, but he was on his third bite of pot roast before he realized she was speaking to him.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you. A big hit at what?”
“The auction.”
He glanced at his uncle, who only shrugged into his mashed potatoes. “Better you than me.”
“What auction?”
Aunt Brenda cocked her head. “Weren’t you listening? Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m fine. Just zoned out for a sec. What auction?”
“The bachelor auction for the Activator League. You’d be perfect. Anyone would love to spend time with you.”
Not really. Either they called him a weird little queer or they tolerated him like an overexcited kindergartener, but no one wanted to spend time with him.
Well, except for Linc. If Linc bought him, then Avery would—
He cleared his throat. Having those thoughts at the dinner table while his aunt and uncle were waiting for him to say something was just gross.
“Why can’t you do it?” he said to his uncle.
“I’m already spoken for.” Uncle Theo winked at Aunt Brenda, who blushed and tossed her napkin at him.
“I don’t know.” Avery poked at his dinner. The portion he’d already eaten formed a lump at the bottom of his stomach.
He had no trouble picturing how it would all go wrong. He’d walk out on the stage in his best suit, maybe with a boutonnière pinned to his lapel. The announcer would give a short speech about what a catch Avery was and bang his gavel.
And silence would roll in like storm surge in a hurricane.
It would be the longest, most horrible moment of his life. Longer than the silence before his dad started cursing his name as he’d packed his bags. Avery heard him the first time, but his dad insisted on making it clear how disgusting he thought Avery was, how morally corrupt.
He and his dad were never close. Avery had always been a sensitive kid, prone to emotional outbursts and choosing brightly colored clothes when his dad wanted a son who would grow up to be a man’s man like him. An upstanding pillar of the community, he’d say. He probably hadn’t even been surprised when Avery came out, although he would have never voiced his suspicions beforehand. But once Avery said the words, he’d made his opinion very clear. Avery was broken. An abomination no moral person would ever want to be with.
No one would want him. The auction would be no different.
“No,” he said.
“But it’s for charity,” Aunt Brenda said.
“I know.” He shrugged, keeping his eyes on his plate. If he looked at either of them, they’d know what was going on his head. They might not be his parents by birth, but they were by everything else.
“Sweet pea.” She put a hand over his. “It’s not like that. Just people from town raising money. Worst comes to worst, your uncle and I will—”
