12. Bryson
12
Bryson
My Great Uncle Charles lived in a Tuscan-style villa in Sonoma County, about seventy miles north of San Francisco. The original owners had been trying for a rustic, informal feel when they built it in the 1940s. But since it was huge and sat at the top of a hill, I could see how it might seem imposing at first glance.
When we turned onto a private road and it came into view, Embry whispered, “Holy smokes, is that where we’re going?” I nodded, and he said, “You know, I never asked. How did your family make its money?”
“It all started with Pierre and Marie Baudelaire, who made their fortune during the California gold rush.”
“Really? They struck gold?”
“Not in the way you’re thinking. They were entrepreneurs who emigrated from France to the U.S. in the 1840s. When everyone started heading west, they came to San Francisco and opened a general store. It was so successful that they expanded to include a restaurant, a hotel, and a bank, just as the city was coming into its own.”
“That was smart.”
“It was, and they did well. In fact, most of their businesses kept thriving long after the gold rush ended. Their kids and grandkids took over eventually, and even though they suffered a setback in the 1906 earthquake, they were able to rebuild the bank. It was still going strong when the family sold it in the 1970s. At that point, my grandfather and his brother used part of their inheritance to build a successful financial consulting firm. Granddad is still working there, but Uncle Charles retired six years ago and moved up here full-time. He’s owned this place for almost four decades, so I’ve spent a lot of holidays here.”
Embry asked, “Did your father work with them?”
“No. Dad went to medical school but ended up finding his passion in teaching. He was a professor at UCSF.”
I thought he’d comment on all that privilege, which I fully understood. Instead, he said, “It’s pretty wild that you can trace generations of your family like that. My mom was an only child, and she was estranged from her parents. They didn’t have much interest in me when I went and introduced myself at nineteen. And my dad’s side, well, that’s just one big blank.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, but then he asked, “So, who am I about to meet, besides your grandfather and your great uncle Charles?”
“Well, they’re both widowers, but my uncle has girlfriends from time to time. He recently started dating someone new, but I’m not sure if she’ll be around this week. Then there’s my brother Fallon and his wife and two kids. By the way, she’s an event planner, he works as a corporate lawyer, and they live in Sacramento. I don’t think I told you that.
“My dad was an only child, and Charles has three daughters. The oldest has been married for thirty years, but one of her sisters is on her third marriage, and the other was recently married for a fourth time. They have several kids and step-kids, and some of them are starting families of their own now. Some years, we might have ten people here for Christmas. Other years, it can be closer to thirty. I’m not sure who’ll be here this time.”
“I hope I can remember who’s who.” He sounded nervous.
“I know meeting a lot of people all at once can be overwhelming. If you forget names, please don’t worry. I’ll be right by your side throughout all of this, and I can help.”
He nodded before turning his head and looking out the window. The private road we were on meandered uphill, through acres of vineyards that were dormant in winter. “It’s pretty here,” he murmured.
“It is. I really love it here, no matter the time of year. Now, in winter, I think there’s a stark beauty to the vines in their tidy rows. Then, in the springtime, it all turns into a sea of green. The blooms don’t look like much, but for a week or two, there’s this subtle, sweet smell in the air. Then all summer, you can watch the grapes changing from tiny green pearls to these big clusters of deep purple. Harvest season in the early fall has its own unique scent.”
“Does your great uncle actually make wine?”
“He produces a small quantity of a nice Pinot Noir, just enough for himself and to give to family and friends. He doesn’t sell it.”
With that, we pulled into the circular drive. I hopped out of the car and unloaded our luggage at the front entrance, and then I drove to a gravel area to the left of the driveway and parked. Six cars were lined up beside mine, which told me it was going to be a pretty full house this year.
Embry climbed out of the car and took the dog to a grassy area while I stretched my stiff back. Suddenly, my brother burst out the front door and made a beeline for me. He was in a foul mood. I could spot it even at a distance.
Fallon and I looked a lot alike. Or we would have, if I worked out, wore contacts, spent hundreds of dollars on my haircuts, and had any interest in expensive clothes. He was wearing a bespoke three-piece suit, which was overkill for a family get-together, and his scowl carved a deep line between his brows. He came to a stop five feet away and growled, “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Nice to see you too, Fallon.”
“Cut the crap. I heard you got married two weeks ago—to a man! First of all, you’re not gay. Everyone knows that. But also, do you expect me to believe you just happened to meet someone and get married, right before your deadline? I call bullshit!”
He was right to be suspicious, obviously, but I left it at, “It’s funny how life works out sometimes.”
“You’re so full of shit! I’m going to make sure our grandfather sees this for the sham that it is.”
“What do you care? You got your inheritance five years ago.”
He snapped, “Yeah, and most of it’ll be going to my soon-to-be ex-wife, by the time her lawyers finish with me.”
“You and Julia split up?”
“She left me and took the kids. They’re staying with her parents in Southern California.”
“I’m sorry, Fallon.”
His scowl deepened. “Yeah, I’m sure you’re really torn up about it.”
“I am. I always liked Julia. Can I ask what happened?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “It doesn’t matter.”
She’d suspected he was cheating on her in the past, and I wondered if she’d finally found proof. Asking about that would just make him angrier though, so instead I said, “So, if you convince Granddad my marriage isn’t real, do you think he’ll give my inheritance to you instead?”
“That’s exactly what should happen. I’m going to need it after Julia bleeds me dry, and you don’t deserve it, since you failed to meet the terms of your agreement.”
Embry appeared at my side and took my hand, looking angrier than I’d ever seen him. Even his good-natured dog seemed mildly pissed off. “No, he didn’t,” Embry snapped, “and just FYI, greed isn’t a good look on anyone, especially you.”
Fallon turned on him and snapped, “And who are you supposed to be, the ‘husband?’ Come on. Who are you really, some actor my brother hired? If so, he did a terrible job with casting. I have no idea why he decided to pretend he’s gay, but you two don’t even sort of look like a couple.”
Embry met him scowl-for-scowl. “Shows what you know.”
“Really? Is that all you have to say in your defense?”
“I don’t need to say anything,” Embry informed him, “because your opinion doesn’t matter.”
I loved how fierce he was. I’d assumed I’d have to spend the next few days shielding him from my family, but here he was, doing the same thing for me.
Without really thinking about it, I kissed the side of Embry’s head, in what was meant as a silent thank you. Fallon picked up on it, rolling his eyes as he asked, “Was that supposed to make me think you two are really a couple? Well, I’m not buy?—”
I had no idea if my brother stopped talking or if I completely tuned him out at that point, because of what happened next. Embry slid his hand around the back of my neck, pulled me down to his height, and planted a long, lingering kiss on my lips.
He was putting on a show to shut my brother up. I knew that.
This wasn’t supposed to mean anything.
But I felt that kiss right down to my toes.
The entire world dropped away, and Fallon along with it. I cupped Embry’s face between my hands and deepened the kiss. It felt so incredibly good that for a little while, I let myself get lost in it.
Eventually, he took a half-step back and looked up at me. I searched his eyes. I wanted to say something, but words failed me.
Then someone called, “Hello, you two,” bringing the outside world back into focus. When I looked around, my brother was nowhere to be seen. Instead, my grandfather and my great uncle were walking toward us.
I tried to gauge their reactions as I introduced Embry. Both of them were polite and cheerful, but they also seemed a bit guarded. Did they suspect the marriage was a sham? Maybe not. I was so worried about pulling this off that it might have been coloring my perception.
Embry clutched his dog to his chest and held my hand when we went inside. My family was gathered in the living room, which featured a huge, rustic fireplace and a twelve-foot Christmas tree that almost reached the beamed ceiling. It had to be overwhelming for him when I introduced ten people at once, and I knew he was nervous. Despite that, he kept a smile on his face and was his usual charming self.
I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting. Obviously, my grandfather had given them a heads up before we arrived, but nobody blinked an eye at the fact that I’d married a man. Maybe they were taking their cue from Granddad and Uncle Charles, and those two weren’t making a big deal of it. Really though, I didn’t care how my family felt about this, as long as they were polite to Embry.
The only person who openly had a problem with this was Fallon—not because I’d married a guy, but because I’d gotten married in general. He sat in a corner, drinking too much, glaring at me, and grinding his teeth while everyone generally ignored him. He was often in a bad mood, so the family knew to leave him alone and let him stew.
Two members of the kitchen staff arrived with a rolling cart loaded with bottles of champagne and glassware. Uncle Charles told us way too much about the vintage as the flutes were filled and passed around. Then Granddad stood up and raised his glass in a toast. “To my grandson and his new husband. May you enjoy a lifetime of happiness.”
Everyone toasted us—except Fallon, who let a humorless laugh slip. When our grandfather turned a sharp glare on him, he muttered, “This is ridiculous.”
Granddad snapped, “We talked about this, Fallon. If you can’t be happy for your brother, no one is forcing you to stay.”
I took that to mean my brother had already gone to him with his suspicions, and apparently Granddad had shut him down. Not that I expected Fallon to give up. If he really believed I was trying to get away with something, he’d hold on to this like a rabid dog with a bone.
Embry and I chatted with everyone for a few minutes, and then I said, “If you’ll please excuse us, we want to rest up after that drive. We hit all kinds of traffic leaving San Francisco, and getting here took twice as long as usual.”
“Of course,” Uncle Charles said. “I instructed my staff to put your things in the Sunset Room. If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask.”
I thanked him, and as we started to leave the room my grandfather called, “We’ll see you both at six sharp for cocktail hour, out on the terrace.”
As soon as we got to our room, I locked the door behind us, and Embry turned Dusty loose. Both of us kicked off our shoes, and he filled the dog’s travel water bowl while I collapsed face-down on the bed. I hadn’t realized how tense I was until I finally got the chance to relax.
A minute later, Embry climbed onto the bed, hugging the bulging tote bag he’d brought along. “I already forgot everyone’s name,” he said, “aside from your grandpa and great uncle, who seem nice, and your brother, who’s even worse than I thought he’d be.”
“Yeah, Fallon was in fine form. I’m not sure why he thinks the money might go to him if I forfeit it. I can’t see Granddad agreeing to that.”
“So, he already got his inheritance?”
“Yup.”
“Did he have to get married first?”
“No. He got it automatically when he turned thirty.”
“How is that fair?”
“Granddad wanted something specific from me. I guess Fallon was already living up to expectations.”
“I never liked the fact that your grandfather put that condition on your inheritance,” Embry muttered. “It bothers me even more now.”
“Well, as I’ve said before, it’s always been my choice to accept it or reject it.”
“You have a good attitude about it, but I’m going to go ahead and be cranky for you.”
As he started to unpack the tote bag, I rolled on my side so I was facing him and asked, “What do we have here?”
“I made us a survival kit, with a side of holiday cheer.” He pulled out a tiny plastic Christmas tree, turned on its lights, and put it on the nightstand. “We’re both under a lot of pressure with trying to convince your family this is a real marriage, so we’ll probably end up hiding in our room a lot over the next few days. Not only will we want time to destress, but the less time we spend with them, the less chances of saying or doing something to trip ourselves up.”
“Very true. So, what did you bring?”
“I packed snacks, playing cards, board games, that sort of thing.”
“Great idea.” I sat up and leaned against the headboard, and he handed me a plastic storage container. It was full of star-shaped sandwich cookies, covered in sprinkles. “When did you bake these?”
“Last night. I’ve been so nervous all week that I haven’t slept much.” He opened another container and tossed a homemade, bone-shaped treat to Dusty, who caught it and wolfed it down.
Next, he unpacked three small stockings fastened to a long, red ribbon. Embry stood up and draped the ribbon over the frame of the landscape painting above the bed, so they hung in a swag. The stockings were hand-embroidered with our names and Dusty’s.
Embry yawned and flopped onto the mattress. “I need a nap. Please wake me up if I’m still asleep at five, so I have enough time to get cute before dinner.”
“I think I’ll try to nap, too. You can have the bed, I’ll sleep on the floor.”
I started to get up, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back. “That’s silly. This is a king-size bed, and there’s no reason we can’t share.”
I couldn’t argue with that. We hadn’t shared a bed in Las Vegas because we’d been virtual strangers, but we were friends now. This didn’t have to be weird.
He moved the tote bag to the top of the dresser and took off his jeans before climbing under the covers. I felt self-conscious though, so I remained fully clothed.
Embry curled up on his side facing me and shut his eyes. After a moment, he murmured, “You know what I realized when I was embroidering those stockings? That our names start and end with the same three letters. How would we ever have a cute couple nickname, like Bennifer or Brangelina? We’d end up with Bry-Bry, or Em-Bry, which is just my name put back together again and mispronounced.”
“There’s always Em-Son.”
“That’s not cute, though. Emson is a boring kid who wears a bowtie to school and carries a portable chess set everywhere he goes.”
I grinned at that. “Poor Emson. You think he’s a dork.”
He grinned, too. Soon after, he fell asleep with that little smile lingering on his lips. I watched him for a few moments before rolling onto my back.
I put my glasses on the nightstand and scrubbed my hands over my face. What had happened earlier? We were supposed to be putting on a show, but I’d felt something when we kissed. A lot of something. There’d been a jumble of emotions, and… longing. For what, exactly?
I’d never found men attractive. Hell, I barely even wanted to be friends with most of them. Generally speaking, they were loud, aggressive, overly competitive—which was very unappealing.
Embry was none of those things, though. He was the sweetest, kindest, most thoughtful person I’d ever met, and he’d quickly become very important to me. He was also undeniably beautiful, inside and out.
I desperately wanted to kiss him again.
It was confusing, to say the least. I’d never imagined feeling this way about a man.
And there were so many ways it could go wrong. What if I tried to turn what we had into more than a friendship, but he wasn’t into it? All of this could become painfully awkward, and he was stuck with me for the next year.
Maybe I should be reminding myself this was just pretend, instead of believing the story we were trying to tell my family.