Chapter 17 #2
"What?" she says innocently. "I'm making conversation." She turns to Gavin. "And you must be the football star I've been hearing about. Richard was very impressed when Caleb mentioned he was friends with you."
Of course, he was. My father, the eternal jock-worshipper.
"I'm happy to be here supporting Caleb," Gavin says with surprising diplomacy. "He's been a great friend."
My mother looks pleased. "Well, enjoy yourselves. The silent auction closes at nine, in case you're interested. Some lovely items this year."
After she leaves, I slowly let out a deep breath. "Sorry about... all of that."
"Your mom seems… nice," James offers.
"She's the best of the bunch. Which isn't saying much."
We spend the next hour moving carefully through the crowd.
I introduce James to the few genuinely decent people in my parents' circle: Judge Rivera, who quietly advocates for LGBTQ+ rights in the family court system; Dr. Klein, who runs a clinic providing healthcare to underserved communities; and Ms. Patel, a retired teacher who now funds scholarships for first-generation university students.
During a quick break at a high-top table, James looks at me, his face serious.
"Have you ever thought about using these connections for things you actually care about?" he asks.
"What do you mean?"
"These people have money and influence. If they respect you, which they seem to, you could direct some of that toward organizations that matter to you."
The thought sits for a moment. "I've never really thought about it. These events always felt like something to endure, not utilize."
"Well," James hesitates, then continues, "I've been meaning to tell you. I volunteer with Rainbow Haven House. They provide emergency and transitional housing for LGBTQ+ youth who've been kicked out of their homes."
"That's amazing." And he's been doing this the whole time. Quietly. Without needing credit or applause or a banner with his name on it. While I've been... what? Complaining about having to show up to fundraisers?
"How long have you been involved?"
James looks down at his glass. "Since I was seventeen. I was... a resident for a while."
The simple admission hits me like a punch to the gut. All this time, I've been complaining about my family, while James...
"I'm sorry," I say, suddenly feeling small. "I had no idea."
He shrugs. "It was a long time ago. But I still help them out. I've been redesigning their website, setting up a better donation system, that kind of thing. But what they really need is sustainable funding."
Looking around the room with new eyes, I wave to a few groups standing and talking. "Well, we happen to be in a room full of people with more money than they know what to do with."
"Exactly my thought." James smiles, and it transforms his face in a way that makes my heart stutter. "Want to help me pitch?"
"Absolutely."
We work as a team, approaching potential donors I've identified as sympathetic to the challenges many LGBTQ+ youth face. James talks with so much heart about Rainbow Haven House, while I use my family connections to introduce him around and make the requests seem more official.
Gavin joins in too; his natural charisma and football status open a few wallets that we might not have had access to otherwise.
By the time the buffet opens, we've secured promises for donations totaling nearly thirty thousand dollars, plus an offer from a real estate developer to look at properties for a potential expansion.
Thirty thousand dollars. The number is unbelievable. We did good. The smugness is probably inappropriate, hijacking my father's donor list for an LGBTQ+ youth charity, but fuck it, it feels good anyway.
Why didn't I think of doing this before? All these years of suffering through fundraisers when I could've been using them.
"That was incredible." Loading my plate at the buffet, watching James do the same. "You should see your face when you talk about this. You just... light up."
He looks embarrassed but pleased. "It's important. A safe place can change everything for these kids."
"I'm about to respond when my older brothers, Thomas and Robert, corner us at the buffet table.
"Little bro," Thomas says, clapping me on the shoulder hard enough to make me wince. "Heard you've been working the room. Dad's almost impressed."
"I aim to please, you know that."
Robert smirks. "Seriously though, good thinking bringing out the gay tonight. These liberal donors eat that shit up. Perfect timing with the equality ballot measure coming up."
My spine straightens and my shoulders stiffen. "Excuse me?"
"You know," Thomas continues, oblivious to my tone. "The whole 'look how accepting our family is' angle. Dad's polling numbers with the under-thirty demographic jumped five points after you came out. Best thing you could have done for the campaign."
A wave of nausea rolls over me, and James has gone very still beside me.
"That's not why I'm here." My throat feels tight.
"Sure, sure," Robert says, clearly not believing me. "But hey, it works out for everyone, right? You get to be yourself or whatever, Dad gets the progressive vote, and the family business keeps rolling. Win-win."
"The only person winning here is your father," James says coldly. "Caleb isn't a political prop."
"And you are?" Thomas asks with barely concealed disdain.
"I'm James. Caleb's boyfriend."
"Right," Robert says, looking James up and down. "The computer guy."
"Internet Security Specialist," I correct. "James rebuilds entire websites for LGBTQ+ charities. For free. Complete redesigns, social media integration, donation systems, he's been doing it for years."
The silence that follows is deafening.
Thomas and Robert exchange one of their looks, the kind that says How adorable, baby brother thinks we care.
"That's... great," Thomas finally offers, the enthusiasm of someone commenting on a stranger's vacation photos. "Robert, you were saying what about the merger?"
Just like that, dismissed. James might as well not exist.
The familiar burn of embarrassment wars with something fiercer. Anger on James's behalf. They don't get it. Don't get what James does actually matters, that helping organizations save lives is worth more than their fucking quarterly earnings reports.
James's hand finds the small of my back, a brief touch that grounds the spiraling thoughts. When I turn back to him, his expression has shifted into something softer.
"What?" The word comes out defensive.
"Nothing," James says quietly. "Just... Thank you. For that."
Thomas waves dismissively. "Whatever. Look, no offense, but we're talking about family business here."
"And I'm family." My jaw clenches. "Which means James is part of this conversation too."
Gavin picks this moment to come over, his big frame making both my brothers stand taller right away.
"Everything okay here?" he asks, voice deceptively light as he positions himself slightly in front of me and James.
"Just catching up," Thomas says, his tone noticeably less arrogant.
"Great," Gavin says, smiling without warmth. "Because Caleb and James have been doing amazing work tonight. Thirty grand raised for homeless LGBTQ+ youth in what, an hour? Pretty impressive."
My brothers exchange uncertain glances.
"Didn't know you were into charity," Robert says to me.
"There's a lot you don't know about me."
An awkward silence falls, broken by the announcement of the start of the formal program. My brothers mutter excuses and retreat toward the stage.
"Thanks, Gavin."
He shrugs as if it’s no big deal. "Your brothers are dicks," he says simply. "No offence."
"None taken. It's a fact."
We find seats near the back of the room for my father's speech. It's the same one he's been giving for months, carefully worded to sound progressive to liberals and traditional to conservatives. The man could teach a master class in political doublespeak.
Tuning most of it out, I instead pay attention to James beside me. His profile in the dim light, the way he listens intently despite knowing it's all bullshit, the occasional glance he throws my way to check if I'm okay.
This isn't pretend anymore. Not for me, anyway.
After the speech and obligatory standing ovation, the formal part of the evening winds down. People begin to circulate again, now looser from the open bar and more generous after emotional appeals.
We're making our way toward the exit when my father intercepts us.
"Caleb," he says, all smiles for the donors still watching. "Leaving so soon?"
"Early classes tomorrow." It's a lie, but he wouldn't know anything about my schedule.
He nods, eyes moving to Gavin. "Mr. Robins, I wanted to thank you for coming. Several university supporters have noted your presence."
"Happy to be here, sir," Gavin says politely.
My father finally acknowledges James with the barest of nods before turning back to me. "You know, Caleb," he says in a quieter voice, "someone like Gavin here would make an excellent partner for public appearances. Athletic, well-spoken, from a good family."
I stare at him, torn between shock and fury. "James is standing right here." The words come out through clenched teeth.
My father has the audacity to look annoyed. "I'm simply making an observation. Appearance matters in politics."
James's expression doesn't change, but tension radiates from him. He's furious, but I don't think it's for himself.
It's for me.
"Well, I think James is pretty hot," Gavin interjects, stepping up beside me. "Don't you, pookie?"
My eyes blink rapidly. I'm momentarily confused by the nickname. "What?"
Gavin drapes an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. "But, Pookie, I thought tonight you were going to introduce me to everyone? I thought the three of us were finally coming out?"
My father's face goes from confused to scandalized in the blink of an eye. "I beg your pardon?"