“There’s no need, son. I understand. Let’s let sleeping dogs lie. Please forgive me for delving into things that are best left alone.” He smiled with warmth and empathy. “Instead, how about focusing on your mother’s extraordinary cooking skills.” He looked towards Louise and winked. “The roast beef is incredible, Louise. As always!”
Feeling a strong surge of affection, he reached for Lance’s hand under the table. They shared matching grins while the casual dinner conversation resumed, and he sighed in relief that everything had returned to normal. He noticed Cameron studying the two of them intently. Tanner decided to ignore her in favor of diving into his mother’s ridiculously delicious roast beef.
They’d nearly made it through dinner without any sign of his mother’s usual meddling, and Tanner was beginning to think he might get through this meal unscathed for once. But sadly, he was wrong. Suddenly, she turned to him, eyes wide like she’d just remembered something.
“Oh, Tanner! I almost forgot—you’ll never guess who I ran into on Tuesday!”
Tanner didn’t want to know and he sure as hell didn’t want to guess jack shit—but he didn’t think he had much of a choice, so he began playing with the food on his plate to entertain himself while she went on the attack.
“Who?” he asked with an internal sigh, knowing she was just going to keep at him no matter what he did or said.
“Candy Tomkins!” she declared, like that name should ring a bell. It didn’t. She scoffed at his blank expression and started describing her.
“You remember Candy! Cute button nose, short blonde hair, she was on your soccer team in elementary school!”
How on earth his mother could remember the full name of a girl who’d been on his elementary soccer team was beyond Tanner. It had to count as a superpower. He reminded himself to keep calm and carry on. A good mantra—it always seemed to work for the British, didn’t it?
“Okay—” he looked at his sister for help, but she just sat there smirking, obviously enjoying this unique brand oftorture their mother dished out at these family dinners. Usually designed just for him. Oh, happy day!
“She just graduated from med school and moved back into town. Lovely girl! Her mother and I used to play bridge on Sundays—you remember,” she stated firmly, like it was a fact.
No. Tanner remembered no such fucking thing.
“That’s—” he glanced around the table, hoping someone would step up and save his ass. “That’s nice. Good for her.” But Louise was not done. Not even close. She smiled like a Cheshire cat. And not a single peep out of the rest of the dinner crowd watching the show. Dammit. He was definitely not letting any of them have any of Lance’s pie. He’d take it back home. Leaving his ass out there flapping in the wind—they sure as fuck didn’t deserve any. Desperate to distract himself, he debated the merits of vanilla ice cream versus whipped cream for the topping.
“She’s single. Very pretty too. Fit. She mentioned yoga, and running, I think. It might do you some good! The girls from my crochet club all say that doing yoga regularly is a great way to prevent arthritis.”
Tanner groaned softly, suppressing the urge to pound a fist into his mashed potatoes. He wanted nothing to do with Candy Tomkins, and the very last thing he wanted to talk about was his bum fucking leg. He gritted his teeth and made a last-ditch effort to shut this shit down, once and for all.
“And like I’ve told you at least a hundred times before, I don’t need your help in lining up dates. I’m not looking for anyone right now,” he replied in a reasonably even tone, hoping to put an end to the conversation before it could escalate into a shouting match.
“You’re not 22 anymore! You’re alive, baby! You should be—you know—going on dates and finding someone to settle down with.”
“And Tanner will do that when he feels ready to,” Cameron said, finally stepping up to the stand, when she realized he’d reached the end of his rope. Louise waved her daughter’s comment away.
“Dr. Jones said—” but Tanner cut her off before she could finish.
“No, stop right there. You’re not bringing my fucking therapist into this. Not tonight, alright? I’m—I’m getting there, Mom, but it’s not—” he paused for a moment to regain his equilibrium. He was hyperaware of Lance sitting next to him, easing just a bit closer as his voice rose with frustration. He didn’t want to fight with his mother right now, but he had a funny feeling that if he did, Lance would back him up. “I need a bit more time,” he finally managed to say, and when he looked back up at his mother, she was sitting back in her seat, looking resigned.
“I’ll keep her number just in case,” she finally declared, because she needed to have the last word. Always. Tanner smiled grimly and nodded. What the fuck else could he do?
To escape any further lectures from his mother, Tanner volunteered to wash the dishes. That did not, however, mean he could avoid the other topic that had arisen before dinner that he preferred not to discuss. Ever.
“Your sister’s right, you know,” Lance said, as he dried the salad bowl Tanner had just handed him. He turned with one eyebrow hitched in confusion. Lance nodded towards the living room, where Dave and Louise were dancing with Clara and Lucy. They were each holding a little girl’s hand, leaving one free to clasp each other’s. Things looked a bit too cozy in Tanner’s opinion as he watched the elder duo twirling the little girls around. Itwasdifficult to miss the warm glances sharedbetween his mother and Dave. Even more so the intent behind them.
“Ah—Jeez,” Tanner said, shivered with the realisation that Cameron and Lance were right. “In public, too?”
“He seems like a nice enough guy.” Lance leaned briefly against Tanner’s shoulder in a show of support. Lance was right, of course. It was becoming increasingly obvious that Lance was right about most things. But since Tanner hadn’t been at home when his father had died, it was difficult to put into words how much his passing still weighed on him when everyone else seemed to have moved on.
“What is it, Tanner?” Lance asked, speaking softly as he touched Tanner’s forearm.
Tanner shook his head mutely and wiped down the sink.
Noticing that everyone was in the living room and not paying any attention to them, Tanner decided they should take a short break while they had the chance to be alone.
“Come on,” he said, grabbing Lance’s hand and pulling him along behind him.
He hadn’t been inside the garage in years. It had always been his father’s domain. His mother rarely came in here. If she needed something done, she’d simply asked his father to do it. His dad had always been the one they all counted on to get things done. Unfortunately, now that his dad was gone, the garage had become a complete mess. Piles of stuff all over the place, and mountains of boxes were held in place rather precariously by garden tools and ladders. Tucked away in a corner was an old motorcycle, one Tanner hadn’t laid eyes on since he’d shipped out. He smiled as he limped over to his old friend.
