Read Roll With the Punches Page 17


  Brandon gently squeezed his hand but didn’t take his focus from the girls. Four weeks might as well be forever to them at their age, and considering he had never issued punishments like this to Emma before, he strongly suspected she wasn’t going to try to slip around him this time out of fear of him following through and doing exactly what he said.

  “Remember how you ripped me a new one that night when you met Stuart and you thought I was cheating on Jeff because you didn’t stop to talk to me first?”

  Emma nodded.

  From the surprised glance Grace gave to Em, he realized maybe she hadn’t heard that story.

  “At any point in this past year-plus time did you stop to think that lying to us was a bad idea?”

  Em nodded.

  “But it didn’t stop you.”

  She shook her head.

  “Are we clear on these rules? Because I do not want to find out in a few weeks or months you’re trying to find a loophole.”

  “We’re clear, sir.”

  “Do you agree you should be punished for breaking our trust like this?”

  More tears. “Yes, sir.”

  He focused on Grace. “You try to help her get around these new rules, and you’ll make things worse for both of you. Understand?”

  “Yes, Pop. I’m sorry.”

  “So am I. I love you like a daughter. But you’re not my daughter, and I can’t guarantee what your parents are going to give you in terms of punishment. Due to you both knowingly lying to us, I’m not going to go to bat for you for leniency, either. I doubt your parents are going to have a problem with you being gay and dating Emma. I strongly suspect they’re going to be just as angry about the lying as I am. I do promise that, if I’m wrong, and they hassle you about being gay, we will—”

  “Queer, not—”

  “Whatever!” he said. “Again, you’re smart enough to not parse things right now. I don’t care what label you choose for yourself or where you place yourself on the rainbow. I seriously do not. That’s a moot point because you’re born the way you are. As a father, I am pissed off that the two of you broke our trust. That is the focus, here. You’re not being punished for being gay. You’re being punished for deliberately lying to us to avoid rules.”

  “Sorry, Pop.”

  He stared at them for a long, sad moment. “I’m not just hurt and angry, I’m disappointed in both of you. I love both of you. That’s why I’m coming down on you so hard about this, so you understand how serious it is.”

  He looked at Jeff. “Anything to add?”

  “No, I had my say earlier.”

  Brandon returned his focus to the girls and tipped his head toward the kitchen. “Go get dinner started, please. I’ll drive you both over to Grace’s later so we can talk to her parents.”

  The girls got up and headed for the kitchen, then reversed course and each leaned in to hug Brandon, then Jeff.

  “Sorry, Dad.” Emma sniffled. “Love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  Grace leaned in next. “Love you, Pop.”

  “Love you, too, kiddo.”

  Once they were in the kitchen, Brandon focused on Jeff, who stared at him from where he still lay on the couch. Keeping his voice low, Brandon leaned in. “Do you think you’ll feel like going with us tonight?”

  “I’d like to, but probably not. I hurt too much right now, and my stomach’s all screwed up. Maybe take Stu with you.”

  Brandon hated this, too, that he couldn’t wave a hand and fix Jeff’s health troubles. He touched his forehead to Jeff’s, nuzzling noses with him. “Okay. Love you, boy.”

  “Love you, too, Master.”

  * * * *

  By the time Stuart got home, he’d received the gist of the situation from Jeff via text. Dinner was ready when he arrived, so he went straight to eating and would take his shower after.

  “When did you want to leave?” he asked Brandon.

  “Pretty soon. I have a feeling we might be talking for a while, and I don’t want to wait until late to do it.”

  The girls exchanged a guilty look but didn’t speak.

  “And you owe Stuart an apology, too,” Brandon told them. “You lied to me, to Jeff, and to Stuart.”

  “Sorry, Stuart,” they echoed.

  He struggled not to lose it in front of them. “Thank you.”

  Brandon reached over and patted his arm. “If you want to say something to them about this, go ahead. Jeff got to already.”

  He met Brandon’s blue gaze. “That’s freaking spooky when you read my mind like that.”

  A handsome smile quirked his lips. “It’s a blessing and a curse. Seriously, you’re part of this family.”

  Stuart laid down his fork and thought about it for a moment. “You know my family has pretty much disowned me, so you guys are my family. I know I’m more like a big brother than a dad, in your eyes, but I do love you like you’re my daughters. Em, it really hurts that after all we’ve been through, backing you up with your mom more than once, that you lied to me. To all of us.”

  He tried to blink back the tears but still felt them prickling his eyes. “I came from a family where I was afraid to come out. Literally afraid for my safety, especially from my oldest brother. So afraid that I decided to leave the state so I could live my life the way I wanted. This is anything but that kind of family. This family is the polar opposite of my birth family. And it’s freaking disrespectful, especially to your dad, to keep a secret like that when he’s worked so hard on your behalf and you know he won’t disown you for it, because he’s gay, too. You don’t understand how lucky you are to have a parent who truly gets it.”

  He glanced at Brandon, who nodded that he could keep going.

  “I know you moving in with your dad full-time happened really fast after we met him. Even from the beginning, he flat-out told me and Jeff that you were his priority and always would be, and if we couldn’t accept that, we didn’t need to go any farther. He even told us there were times he met guys before us, but they weren’t thrilled about him having a kid, so he passed. He put you first. Always. There’s nothing but love in his heart for you as a parent. Unconditional love.”

  Now he really was crying. “I can’t begin to tell you what that feels like, because I don’t have it from my parents. I don’t know what it’s like. But I have it from Brandon and Jeff. So instead of lying and trying to get around the rules, you should consider yourself lucky. Excuse me.”

  Overwhelmed, he had to retreat to the master bath. There, he stood over the sink, quietly crying.

  It startled him when he felt a hand touch his shoulder. Brandon and Jeff both stood there, then enveloped him, their arms around him as he cried.

  “Shh, it’s okay,” Brandon whispered. “We’ve got you, boy. You’re all ours, and we love you.”

  “I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t realize how hard that would trigger me.”

  “It’s okay, buddy,” Jeff assured him. “We know you’ve been holding that back.”

  “Let it out,” Brandon gently said. “Don’t hold on to that. That’s why we’re here.”

  Once he’d finally gotten himself under control, he sent them back out to finish dinner while he blew his nose and washed his face.

  Staring at himself in the mirror, Stuart realized he didn’t even look like himself anymore. The tight, deep lines in his forehead and around the outside of his eyes had eased. He caught himself frequently smiling in a way he never remembered doing while growing up.

  He had stopped feeling jumpy when someone called his name, worried that he was going to be yelled at or teased.

  He had learned that, at home, he never had to be tense, on guard, careful about what he said.

  He could speak his mind without worrying about being ridiculed, or worse.

  He could be him.

  No, Emma and Grace had no idea what it was like to grow up in a house where you had to stay deeply closeted not because it might prove inconvenient to your available time spent
with your SO by admitting the truth, but because of legit fear for personal safety.

  At the very least, fear of being kicked out and ostracized.

  He headed back to the dining room and when he appeared, Emma, then Grace, stood and hugged him.

  “I’m really sorry, Stu,” Emma said. “I never thought about it like that.”

  “Me, either,” Grace said.

  “After you get your shower,” Brandon said to Stuart, “and they get the kitchen cleaned up, you and I will take them to Grace’s and talk to her parents.”

  “Not Jeff?”

  “I don’t feel good enough, buddy.” He’d barely eaten anything, including the chicken soup they’d heated for him.

  “Should you be alone?” Stuart asked.

  “I’m going to take a shower and go to bed. I’ll be okay. These meds are doing a number on me, but I guess I don’t have an alternative if I want to beat this.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Stuart had finished his dinner and was watching Jeff, who did little more than drag his spoon through his bowl of soup rather than eating.

  It was painful to watch, which made him feel guilty since he knew how much legit pain Jeff was in.

  By the time Jeff finally excused himself, he’d finished maybe a third of the soup, and a few bites of dinner. Stuart followed him to the master bathroom and stepped into the shower with him, holding him under the spray.

  Jeff stood three inches taller than his own five nine, but right now, the other man almost felt frail in his arms. Stuart wished he could do more, fix this for him, make him feel better.

  He rested his face in Jeff’s hair. “Sorry I can’t make this better.”

  “It’s okay. It is what it is. Nothing I can do about it except hang on and hope the meds help.”

  The two of them had a different bond than they each did with Brandon. They’d lived together for a couple of months as roommates not long after meeting Brandon. Stuart had moved into Jeff’s house. They weren’t sexual with each other before the first night the three of them had been together, but after that night, Brandon had let them have sex together, since his schedule with Emma meant he had limited time with them.

  In some ways, Jeff was like a Dom to Stuart.

  But more importantly, Jeff was his friend, and his lover. His partner for life.

  His husband.

  Stuart’s heart ached to see him in so much pain.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay behind with you?”

  “Yeah. I got to speak my piece earlier. The girls know how I feel. Go with Brandon. I seriously doubt Bill and Faith will be jerks about the girls coming out, but just in case, he might need your help.”

  “Okay.

  The girls were quiet in the back seat as Brandon drove them all, in his car, over to Grace’s house. Stuart didn’t know how much trouble the girls would be in once Bill and Faith learned the story, but he was prepared for any option.

  It went…pretty much the way it had at their house. Bill and Faith admitted they would have been a little more lenient about the overnights and alone time, but they liked Brandon’s style and imposed the same punishments on Grace.

  And, just like in their house, the issue wasn’t that the girls were dating.

  The issue was that they’d lied about it.

  “I’m really disappointed in you two,” Bill said. “I’ve always felt a little superior to my brother, because his two boys run around and get in trouble all the time, and here we thought you were way better than that.”

  “Sorry,” she mumbled.

  “No, this isn’t a sorry and get out of it. No trying to renegotiate your punishment on this one, either. What Brandon said—you try to skirt around the rules and find a loophole, you’re going to wish you hadn’t.”

  They sent Grace to her room and Emma to wait out in the car.

  “Thanks for talking to us,” Faith said. “I…” She covered her mouth, and Stuart realized she was laughing. “I’m an idiot. I never thought about them dating. Sheesh.”

  “Well, we don’t have to worry about a boy getting her pregnant,” Bill said, and the couple high-fived.

  “She’s bi,” Brandon reminded them. “If they break up, you might have to worry.”

  He pointed to himself and his wife. “We met in middle school,” he said. “Been together since we were dating in ninth grade.” He smiled. “My parents have been married nearly forty years, and hers over thirty. Long-term relationships are in our blood. Might as well get used to seeing a lot of us, because we’ll probably end up in-laws.”

  Brandon smiled. “At least we’ll have good barbecue at the wedding.”

  Bill grinned. “Damn straight!”

  * * * *

  When they returned home, Brandon sent Emma to her room. Her phone had been confiscated and would sit in their room overnight.

  But since Bill and Faith had confiscated Grace’s, chances were there wouldn’t be any trouble.

  The girls could still ride together to and from school, but Brandon would be using a tracking app on Emma’s phone to verify where she was driving and keep tabs on the timeframe. With Jeff out of work, he’d take point on that for now.

  “Are you really going to keep the restrictions up the whole time?” Jeff asked him.

  “Yep. She needs to learn this now. I can’t let her skate. I won’t do her any favors if I do that.”

  “I’m glad they weren’t upset about them dating,” Stuart said. “That could have been really bad.”

  Brandon and Jeff held him. “I know, buddy. It’s okay. Not everyone’s an asshole.”

  * * * *

  Jeff returned to work two weeks after he was released from the hospital. He had seen some improvement while on the medications, but…he wasn’t “better.”

  The problem was, he knew he had to work and try a course of the oral meds. If he had the PICC line for IV meds—which was what the doctor wanted to do—he wasn’t going to be able to work. Not as a mechanic. They’d warned him there was a chance of him getting it infected, especially with the hot summer, being sweaty, or pulling it loose, catching it on something while working on a car, or getting it messed up from oil, solvents, or other chemicals he frequently came into contact with in his job.

  Maybe if he worked doing something else, or in an office somewhere, sure. But not with that job.

  So he slogged along and did his best to try to get through it.

  Four weeks after his collapse, Jeff stood in the garage that Sunday afternoon and stared at the Edsel. There were still so many things he wanted to do to it—should be doing to it—and yet what had been a fun, relaxing hobby before now felt like a chore. He hadn’t touched it since the day he and Emma had been working on it.

  He’d opened the large door and spotted Emma pulling into the driveway, Grace in the passenger seat. Her parents were going to be at a lunch, followed by an evening social event, for Bill’s work. Her parents had gotten the okay from Brandon to send her there, since the girls had completely adhered to their restrictions so far, and would pick her up on their way home later. The girls walked in through the open garage door.

  “Hey,” Emma said. “Whatcha doin’?”

  He sighed. “Not enough.”

  “You need to take it easy. The doctor warned you about that.”

  “I have been taking it easy and I still feel like crud.”

  “Can we help, at least?”

  He had to think for a moment to realize what she’d asked. “Help me work on the Edsel?”

  “Yeah. I’d like to learn more about it. We kind of got interrupted the last time.” But her playful smirk told the true tale.

  She wanted to keep an eye on him when he was supposed to be resting.

  “I’d like to learn more, too,” Grace said.

  He nodded. “Sure. Okay.”

  “Let us go dump our stuff and change clothes and we’ll be right back out.” They headed inside and he stood there for a moment, staring after the
m.

  Lately, not only was he in a lot of pain despite the medications, but he noticed he was having trouble keeping his mind on track. Especially after a day at work. He sometimes had trouble making his hands or feet work the way he wanted them to.

  He was always exhausted, woke up feeling that way, even after a full night’s sleep.

  It didn’t feel like he was getting better. He felt like he wasn’t in control of his life any longer.

  And it sucked. Big time.

  He’d always prided himself on pulling his own weight, and now it felt like he was barely functioning.

  This is no way to live.

  What truly scared him was if the worst-case scenario happened and the Lyme settled in for long-term suffering. He knew he shouldn’t play Google MD, but he couldn’t help but do research about this fiend that had taken over his life.

  And it terrified him.

  Because, so far, he wasn’t getting better, and some of his symptoms, like brain fog, were getting worse.

  When the girls returned, Grace wearing some of Emma’s old grubby clothes, Emma took charge. “We need to finish that wiring harness, don’t we?” She pointed at it.

  He nodded. “Yeah.”

  Without asking, she started climbing into the engine compartment. Suddenly, it felt like he wasn’t even needed. Not only did Emma remember what they’d been working on that day, she seemed to be a step ahead of him.

  Grace didn’t have much experience with tools, but with Emma and Jeff coaching her, she proved a quick study.

  By the time they finished an hour later, the wiring harness was rerouted and he’d taken them out for a test drive around the block in it.

  “This is sooo cool,” Grace said from the backseat. “I love this car!”

  “We should start taking it to car shows,” Emma said. “I’d go with you.”

  “Me, too,” Grace echoed.

  Jeff pulled back into the driveway, easing it into the garage. “Maybe we can look into that. I don’t know when I’m going to be able to finish it at this rate.”