39. Will
WILL
I’d always written James’s insights off as a Vermont thing, but that wasn’t it, was it? Jesus, how could I have been so oblivious?
“You’re Jimmy?”
“I can explain.” James’s hand came down on my shoulder, but I stepped back, and it fell away.
I knew this was too good to be true. James wasn’t interested in me, just my proximity to the movie.
“You didn’t know?” The woman’s sunken eyes peered at me with genuine surprise.
My mother stepped into the sunlight, shading her eyes with her purse. “This is all very fascinating, but here comes our ride, and we’re late.”
“I’m sorry. I just had to see my baby.” The woman reached up and smoothed the lapel of Theo’s tux. “Look how handsome you are. You get that from me, you know?”
Mom, who’d never been affectionate a day in her life, reached over and manually closed my mouth. “Perhaps next time you could call first.” She turned to Theo. “Why don’t you run in and grab us another bottle of champagne from the fridge? I think we’re going to need it.”
For once, Theo did as he was told. The second he disappeared inside, James stepped between the woman and the door. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Fuck off, Jimmy,” she said, moving closer. “He’s my son.”
“The hell he is, and you’re not getting a cent of his money.”
“I don’t want his money.”
“Yeah, right.” James balled his hands into fists. “I’m supposed to believe it’s all just a coincidence, that you just suddenly care, that it has nothing to do with them turning Travis’s book into a movie?”
She started to cry. “I know I fucked up, but I’m better now. I’ve been clean for over a year. And Tommy is a good man, a good father. Theo has a little brother.”
Theo has a brother?
“I don’t give a shit. You had your chance. You had eighteen years of chances. You don’t get another one now just because Theo finally has something you want.”
Fuck, he really is Jimmy. It was just like last week when we filmed the scene where Jimmy punches his fist through a stained-glass window at church after being asked to change out of his “faggy” clothes. Only the real Jimmy Young was a thousand times scarier than Ryan.
Tears slid down the woman’s sallow face. “What was I supposed to do? Sit around and watch my husband die? Raise our son and pretend he wasn’t next?”
“Yes.” James’s fist collided with the porch column, sending the baskets of purple flowers swaying on their hooks. “That’s exactly what you were supposed to do. You were supposed to think about someone other than yourself for a change.”
“Oh, like you’re innocent, like you didn’t run off to Florida the second Bruce got sick. You left me and Travis to handle everything.”
“I didn’t run off. He kicked me out. And we didn’t even know he was sick then.” James’s knuckles were bleeding, but he didn’t seem to notice.
A stifled sob drew my attention to the doorway, where Theo stood, champagne in hand. In all the shock, I hadn’t considered who he was in all of this. Not James’s son, but Travis’s. That meant he—my chest constricted. No, not Theo.
“William, please escort Theo to the limo,” my mother said. “James and I will be right behind you.”
I did as I was told, but even with the limo doors closed, I could hear my mother’s acidic voice. She wasn’t yelling. She didn’t need to.
“I don’t claim to know what’s going on right now, but I do know this is neither the time nor the place. By the sounds of it, you’ve had eighteen years to be a mother to that boy. Waiting a few more days won’t hurt you.”
“Stay out of this. This is none of your business.”
“You’re standing on my porch, making me late for my son’s wedding, so yes, this is my business.
More importantly, I care for that boy. And, unfortunately for you, I happen to be disgustingly rich.
I sincerely hope your intentions are honorable.
I really do. But honorable or not, you will never see a single penny of that boy’s money.
So let’s take that off the table right now. ”
“You can’t do that.”
“I know, it doesn’t seem fair. Frankly, it’s not.
But this is America, and I have scores of lawyers and deep reservoirs of spite.
So, like it or not, I can do whatever the fuck I want.
And right now, I want to get drunk, watch my son get married, and try to bed a Hemsworth.
So, if you’ll excuse me.” My mother pushed past the woman, her stiletto heels clapping down the steps.
“James, lock the door and get your virgin ass in the limo.”
Theo kept his eyes on the floor, and I wished there was something I could say. I should’ve been furious with him. He was the one who’d orchestrated the whole fake relationship in the first place.
But I wasn’t mad. All I wanted to do was hold him and tell him it was going to be okay, that my mom would take care of everything. If he did carry the gene, she’d find a doctor, the best one money could buy, and they’d find a cure. It would be different for him.
The limo doors opened, and Mom and James slid inside. No one looked at anyone else, and no one spoke. We all just sat in silence as the chauffeur made his way around.
“Do you have a first-aid kit by any chance?” Mom asked as he got behind the wheel.
“Yes, ma’am.” The chauffeur climbed out again and retrieved the kit from the trunk.
He gave it to James, who looked down at it in total confusion, like he’d just been handed a small baby possum. He met my gaze, and the pain in his eyes looked far worse than the cuts on his knuckles.
I had no idea what to do, but after a second of staring into those familiar green eyes, I knew what I would do. I’d bandage his hand and figure out the rest later.
“Give it to me.” I took the first-aid kit and pulled out the disinfecting wipes. As a kindergarten teacher, I was no stranger to cuts and scrapes.
My mother took the bottle of champagne from Theo.
“I’m putting you in charge of the travel playlist. Play something upbeat.
We’re going to a wedding.” She opened the champagne slowly, the cork sighing from the bottle.
“It’s a good thing you two are only pretending to date. Otherwise, this would be very awkward.”