And that thought had me thinking about Blake. I wondered what the future would look like for us. I wasn’t sure kids were in the mix for us, but if he was on-board, I’d totally be willing to adopt a kid or two. But not infants because I liked my sleep. Maybe a teen whose own birth family had turned their backs after they came out as queer. Yeah, that could be cool.
Dad held the doors open for us, and I let Billy go first. I’d cry if he dropped the pies. I fully intended to gorge myself to the point I would regret the later. I quickly delivered the bags of ice to one of the elderly women who was busy mixing a batch of orange punch. She swatted my hand when I reached for a cup, hoping to get the first taste.
“Don't think that just because you ran off, you get special privileges now,” she scolded me.
“I wouldn't dream of it, Mrs. Barstow,” I reassured her. “I was just thirsty is all.”
“Water’s in the kitchen. This is for the guests,” she reminded me. I waited until I turned away from her before I rolled my eyes.
In small towns like this, being family of the guests of honor meant you weren’t a guest yourself. It didn't matter if you'd had to take a week off work and leave behind everything that meant comfort to you to be there for their special day.
The church lady punch wasn’t anything special, but my mouth watered imagining the mix of orange juice, sherbet, and lemon-lime soda. It was another something I hadn’t realized how much I missed when I left town.
“Just one little cup, Mrs. Barstow?” I pleaded. For extra effect, I batted my eyelashes. When I’d been younger, all the church ladies gushed about how full they were.
She glared at me, even as she poured what amounted to a shot glass of punch out of the bowl. “Here. And I better not see you back here begging for more.”
“Thank you, ma'am. I took the cup she'd set down at the edge of the table, cradling it in both hands.” My eyes fluttered shut as the sickeningly sweet concoction hit my tongue. It was even better than I’d remembered. But maybe that was because it reminded me of home more than the fact it was some super-secret special recipe.
“Don't you have something better to be doing than sitting here lazing about?”
I didn't, but I wasn't going to tell her that, out of fear she'd find a job for me to do. Just then, my mom approached. “Can you go out and help Carson bring in the flowers? There's an arrangement for each of the tables. If you bring the flats in here, I’ll get them where they belong.”
“Whatever you need, Mom,” I assured her. Mrs. Barstow gave me a curt nod of approval as I tossed my empty punch cup into the garbage can. I carried in the first flat of centerpieces, delivering them to Mom who was busy placing pictures of my grandparents over the years on the tables. I rushed out to the get the next flat for her.
My heart sank as I stepped into the humid summer air. There was no mistaking the sporty blue sedan pulling into the parking lot. Dad pursed his lips as he watched the car park at the far end of the lot.
“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath. It seemed like the universe was taking care of that whole awkward reunion thing before the masses showed up to celebrate my grandparents’ anniversary.
“If you want to help Mom, I'm sure we can handle this.” Billy gave me a gentle shove toward the door.
“Don't be stupid,” I scoffed. “It's not like we were going to go the entire day without running into one another. Maybe it's better to get it over with before everyone else gets here.”
My voice remained steady, despite the fact my palms were sweaty and my heart felt like it was about to thump out of my chest. This was the first time I'd seen Michael since the day he ripped my fragile heart from my chest and stomped it into the ground. And then, to add insult to injury, he’d told me he put money into my checking account to help me land on my feet.
I kept my head high and my shoulders squared as Michael finished parking his car. With every step, I reminded myself that I was in a better place without him. I was stronger now. Michael was a piece of my past that I’d never be rid of, but now I had Blake to show me what a real relationship was supposed to be like.
When he reached into the back seat, I fully expected him to come out with a gift for my grandparents. Despite the fact they had specifically requested no one feel the need to buy anything for them, that wasn't Michael's style. Ever since he'd graduated from college and landed a good job, he'd been the type to flaunt his wealth.
My knees buckled and I had to clutch Billy's arm for support when Michael straightened, cradling a baby in his hands.
What. The. Fuck?
I glared at Billy, suddenly realizing what was really going on at breakfast earlier.. My psyche flipped through every emotion from disbelief to rage. There was no way to explain the utter betrayal I felt, knowing that my family had kept this huge secret from me.
My chest tightened to the point I had to press my fist against my heart to make sure it kept beating. My palms stung from how tightly I pressed my fingernails into my flesh. I was only able to resist the urge to punch something when I remembered how upset Blake would be if I did. I rounded on my brother, the closest target. “You knew about this, didn't you? You fucking lied to me, Billy. How could you not tell me?”
To his credit, Billy had the decency to shirk away from me. His shoulders curled in and he wouldn’t meet my gaze. “I'm sorry I didn't say something sooner, Danny. I wanted to, but it wasn’t my place.”
I was the fucking laughingstock. There was no way I could face the town today, knowing they all knew that Michael left me because he had a fucking kid on the way. And my own brothers hadn’t shown me the common decency to let me know what was going on. “How could you? Do you know what an idiot I feel like now that I know everybody else was in on this huge secret that nobody felt they could share with me?”
“You need to talk to him,” Billy urged. “It's not what you think.”
I spun around, ready to ask my dad why in the fuck he’d gone along with whatever made the rest of them believe it was cool to lie to me, but he was gone.
“Oh, so it's just a happy coincidence that he's waltzing over here with a baby who doesn't look like they were born very long after he dumped me?” God, how could I have been so fucking stupid?
“Hear him out,” Carson echoed. When in the fuck had he come outside? “I know it has to be rough for you, but I don't think he really meant to hurt you. It was fucked up all the way around, but he loved you, Danny.”
