CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE #2
Gavin made another low sound in the back of his throat as Thad’s stomach twisted.
“What about my future?” Thad whispered.
“Neither of you had to go. Don’t you realize the police would have come around anyway?” their mother said with a wave of her drink. “Your father and I could have taken care of this all. When our lawyer explained what kind of future he had, they would have relented. You know how these things go.”
“And what about someone being accountable for what happened?” Thad asked, stunned by her casual dismissal of the seriousness of the issue. Had prison been the answer? No. And he doubted it would have gone away quite as easily as she thought.
But if it had, their parents would have happily swept the entire situation under the rug without a second thought. The idea made his stomach twist.
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. You were good boys from a good home. There was no need to get the law involved. You weren’t criminals.”
“Uh, I was, actually,” Gavin pointed out.
“Well, not a serious one. You weren’t in a gang or anything,” she said.
“Like I said, once they saw you were from a good home, they would have worked with us. Just look at all the players in the league who’ve had their little ‘mistakes’ get whisked away with a good legal team over the years.
We’d have made sure that happened for Gavin too if you hadn’t rushed to his defense by signing that plea deal.
You threw away everything we worked so hard to build for you both. ”
Thad pressed his fingertips to his mouth to keep back the torrent of words he wanted to shout. Jesus, he’d know they were bad, but this … this casual, thinly veiled racism, this refusal to take any kind of accountability for anything … it was worse than he’d realized.
“Do you hear yourselves?” Gavin said, scowling as he tossed his napkin on the table. “What the fuck?”
“Oh, do keep your voice down, darling,” she said with a tired-sounding sigh.
“I see neither of you have grown up, have you? Even if you are both going gray. Really, I don’t know why you don’t dye your hair.
These days, no one would believe I’m old enough to be your mother.
” She smoothed down her suspiciously dark hair.
“This isn’t about immaturity,” Gavin snapped.
“This is about decency. This is about how we’ve spent the past hour—no, our entire lives—never living up to your expectations.
Never being good enough, impressive enough.
Always making the wrong choices. Did you ever, for once, stop to ask yourselves what we actually wanted?
Did you ever ask why I was struggling then?
Why Thad made the choice he did to protect me? ”
Their father opened his mouth, but Gavin pressed on.
“You talk about waving all my mistakes away with money or a team of lawyers but what would we have learned if you did? That our actions don’t have consequences? That our mistakes aren’t to be learned from?”
Gavin let out a bitter laugh. “But I suppose that fits, doesn’t it? Clearly, neither of you have learned from yours.”
He turned to look at Thad. “I’m sorry I asked you to do this. It was a mistake. Do you want to go?”
“Please,” Thad said, pushing his chair back. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
Their parents made shocked, outraged noises as Gavin stood too, pulling out his wallet and tossing some money on the table. “That’s for dinner. Let’s not do this again.”
Without another word, he stalked away from the table, ignoring the curious gazes following him. Thad followed too, feeling lighter with every step they put between them and their parents.
He and Gavin didn’t speak as they waited for the valet to get their rental vehicle, snow beginning to drift down in picturesque flakes or once they were in the SUV, Gavin navigating the bridges and winding hills of the city like he’d never been away from it.
It wasn’t until Gavin pulled up at a familiar old diner, not far from their old practice rink, that Thad understood where they were going.
“Good choice,” was all he said as they got out of the SUV.
Gavin gave him a faint smile, his hair immediately dusted with the heavily falling snow.
They still didn’t speak about what had happened in the restaurant earlier as they found a booth and ordered food.
Thad looked around as they waited for it to come out.
The diner was decorated with festive garland and a small tree sat on one end of the counter. Holiday music played in the background, and the space smelled of coffee, burgers, and nostalgia.
Thad had a sudden flash of memory of sitting here after practice, flirting with the ancient waitress who took their orders, Gavin’s wet hair covered in a beanie as he shoveled fries in his mouth like he hadn’t eaten in a week.
Tonight, they’d ordered what they always had growing up, but it wasn’t until they’d both devoured their double cheeseburgers and fries that Gavin loosened his tie and tossed it onto the cracked vinyl beside him.
He undid the top button of his shirt and sighed, suddenly looking weary. Much older than the sixteen-year-old boy Thad remembered. “Ugh, I feel sick. I don’t think I’ve eaten that much meat in like six months.”
“Shit, I would’ve thought Dakota was better endowed,” Thad quipped.
Gavin huffed out a laugh and threw a wadded-up napkin at his head. “Don’t talk about my boyfriend’s dick.”
“You brought it up.”
“I meant—”
“I know what you meant,” Thad said with a laugh. He’d been trying to get Gavin to lighten up. To smile again.
It had worked too.
Gavin pushed away his plate, a guilty expression crossing his face. “Shit. He’s going to kill me for eating that.”
Thad shrugged. “It’s not the heart-healthiest meal ever, that’s for sure. But I think under the circumstances, he’d probably understand.”
“Yeah, he would,” Gavin agreed. “Fuck. Dinner with Mom and Dad was a shitshow.”
Thad laughed around the straw of his peanut butter and chocolate milkshake. “How did you think it would go?”
“Better.” Gavin slumped, playing with the straw of his chocolate malt. “Different. I don’t know why. They’re exactly the same as they’ve always been.”
“I think they’re getting worse, actually,” Thad said drily.
“Maybe.” Gavin ran a hand over his face. “It was a mistake either way. And I’m sorry I dragged you into it.”
Thad shrugged. “I was pretty sure that was how it would go but I wanted to give you the chance to see for yourself.”
“Yeah, but I shouldn’t have put you through that.”
“Hey, I’m the one who reconnected with them last year,” Thad admitted. “I get it. They’re our fucking parents. They should be better …”
His voice trailed off, his throat suddenly too thick to speak.
“They should be,” Gavin agreed tiredly. “But they’re not.”
“They’re not,” Thad agreed, leaning forward. “So, fuck ’em. We have better people in our lives now. People who give a shit about us and love us the way we deserve.”
Gavin’s smile was bittersweet, but he nodded. “Yeah, we do.”
“So,” Thad said. “Going forward, we spend time with Graham’s crazy but nice family. We hang out with Dakota and Violet, and Jeff, and their kids. Because they’re awesome too.”
“And we build our own families,” Gavin said, holding out a hand.
“Yeah.” Thad took it. “I dunno that I want kids though. I’m not sure I’m un-fucked-up enough yet to even think about it. Though Mom is right about one thing, I’m not getting any younger.”
“Kids. No kids.” Gavin shrugged. “Whatever. I mean you and me. G&T. We’re family. You and Graham too. You’re family. The same way Dakota and I are.”
“Yeah, true,” Thad agreed, squeezing his brother’s hand. “And at the risk of being sappy, I’m glad I have you. I fucking missed you when we weren’t talking.”
“Fuck. You’re gonna make me cry in a diner, you asshole,” Gavin said in a disgusted tone, his eyes red-rimmed. But he didn’t pull away.
“Yeah, well, this is payback. You almost made me cry on the patio on Halloween,” Thad shot back. “I wanted to stuff your head in a bush the whole time.”
Gavin laughed, still sniffling a little. “Seems fair then.”
Thad smiled. “Yeah. Yeah, it does.”
“We’re good though?” Gavin said, searching his face intently. “You and me?”
“Yeah. We’re good,” Thad assured him, squeezing his hand before letting go.
They were always going to argue. They were brothers, after all. Not to mention competitive assholes. But tonight, they’d had each other’s backs, exactly like they had growing up.
And now all Thad wanted to focus on was the future.
“Shall we get back to our guys then?” Gavin asked as Thad pulled out his wallet to pay for the dinner they’d actually eaten.
“Yeah.” Thad smiled at the thought of crawling into bed with Graham tonight and falling asleep in his arms. “Let’s.”
As they left the diner, the snow was falling heavier, in huge, fluffy flakes. Thad tilted his head up and stared for a moment, appreciating its beauty.
When he lowered his head, he found Gavin watching him with a small smile on his face.
“What?” he asked.
“I’m glad you came looking for a job last year,” Gavin said quietly. “I’m glad we had the opportunity to do this. To be brothers again.”
Thad swiped some snow from the top of the SUV and packed it into a ball, firing it at Gavin’s face before he could duck.
“Me too,” he said with a grin. “Now, gimme the keys. I’m driving back. You drive like a fucking lunatic.”
By the time they finally made it back to the Pennington house, they were bickering about who was a better driver and still drenched from the snowball fight they’d gotten into in front of the restaurant.
Graham and Dakota met them at the door, clearly worried.
“It went okay then?” Graham asked when Thad pulled him close and kissed him. Out of the corner of his eye, Thad caught Gavin doing the same to Dakota.
Thad drew back. “Dinner with our parents was fucking awful. But overall, yeah. Yeah, it was a good night.”
He glanced over at Gavin with a smile to see him already grinning back.
Maybe they’d lost something tonight, but he knew what they’d gained was far, far more important.