“As a friend?” Lance asked, cautiously.
“Well, yeah, obviously,” Tanner responded automatically. His eyes shot wide, as though realizing what he’d said and worried he’d offended Lance. Before Tanner could reassure him, he quickly backpedaled.
“Not forever, but—you know, until we—I mean—”
Lance barked out a laugh and leaned down to press his forehead against Tanner’s to calm him down.
“Let’s never bullshit each other. You’re not ready to come out to your family. I’m not ready to call myself your boyfriend in public either. No worries, sweetheart,” he said affectionately. “We’re all good. Figuring it out as we go, and often confused as hell, but it’s all good, right?”
“Right,” Tanner agreed, feeling hugely relieved.
Lance pulled back first and smiled down at Tanner. He kissed him. Once, then twice.
“So, dinner at your mom’s house. What should I bring? She more into flowers or baked goods?”
“Are you sure about this? You don’t have to go with me. I’m fine going alone. Really.” Tanner’s words tumbled out in a rush.
“To be totally honest with you, I didn’t want to leave your side today so—” he confessed with a shrug.
“Ha! It worked! I have you hooked!” Tanner gloated.
“In your dreams, G.I.,” Lance said, trying to play it off.
“You certainly are,” Tanner replied with a waggle of his eyebrows before grabbing Lance’s ass playfully.
It was another typical Sunday of going shopping, planning their respective weeks, and enjoying each other’s company. While neither of them felt ready to take the plunge and come out officially, they had become more comfortable with doing things together in public. Tanner often draped an arm around Lance’s shoulders or waist as he pointed to specific items to add to their shopping cart. They didn’t bother pretending to have separate grocery lists. Tanner hadn’t stayed overnight at his condo in weeks. Perhaps by now Lance should have been craving his personal space, but he didn’t feel crowded in the least because he was so happy to have Tanner in his life and sleeping every night under his roof.
He'd lied about not being ready to call himself Tanner’s boyfriend. He’d said it because he didn’t want Tanner to feel pressured or trapped. Which really didn’t jive too well with his earlier claim that they weren’t supposed to bullshit each other. But the truth was that Lance was afraid. Deathly afraid, really, that if he came clean, Tanner would take off and he’d never get him back. That was his ultimate fear. So, he’d kept his truefeelings under wraps, not wanting to take any chances of rocking the boat.
It had been a relaxing, stress-free Sunday. Bright and fun, and full of their usual banter, but during the drive over to the family dinner that evening, Lance noticed a distinct shift in Tanner’s mood. It was nothing much at first. Just a tick in his jaw, restlessness while he was driving. He began to shift around in his seat like his leg was bothering him more than usual.
“What’s your mom’s name?” Lance asked, wondering what the problem was but hesitant to question him directly.
“Louise,” Tanner replied flatly.
“That’s a pretty name.”
Tanner merely shrugged.
Lance had bought flowers, and a large pie, because his mother had taught him never to show up empty handed, but now he was thinking it might have been a bit over the top.
“Maybe this is a stupid idea,” Lance said, because he’d promised not to bullshit Tanner, and he suddenly felt sick with nerves. Tanner’s uneasiness was getting to him. Lance’s statement snapped Tanner out of his weird mood and got his attention.
“What?”
“I mean, this deal of having me go with you to your family dinner. Maybe—maybe I should just drop you off and pick you up later—maybe—” but Tanner started shaking his head before he could finish.
“No! No, no, no! You can’t back out on me now!” Tanner was visibly distraught as he turned to him.
“But you look anxious. Like even you think it’s a bad idea.”
“What in the hell are you talking about?” Tanner asked, frowning in consternation. “I’m not worried, I’m just—” and Lance could see it was costing him to reveal what was upsettinghim, but at the same time, Tanner was doing so much better these days at letting Lance in. He had learned the hard way that Lance needed him to be open and honest with him, otherwise he’d panic, just like he had the first and only time they’d fought. Tanner sighed and continued. “It has nothing to do with you,” he said, turning to Lance with a reassuring gaze. “I’m just anticipating my mother’s version of the Spanish Inquisition. I love her, I do, but she can be a bit—overbearing. But I want you there. I know that much.”
Reflecting, Lance relaxed and settled back in his seat. He couldn’t do anything to relieve Tanner’s anxieties about this dinner, but he was happy to know he wasn’t the cause of them.
The driveway was packed. There was a white minivan, a red Jeep, and a big pickup truck parked in the driveway, so Tanner parked on the street.
“The flowers are nice,” he said as they walked side-by-side towards his childhood home.
