Chapter Sixteen August
“Smells good.” Nick tried to peek over Brady’s shoulder, but Brady boxed him out. “Whatcha makin’?”
“Dinner,” Brady said flatly. “Grab us some pops or something. It’ll be done in a minute.”
Nick grabbed some drinks from the fridge, wondering how many times he could work the word “soda” into conversation to be an ass. Then he remembered that, oh yeah, he had actual things to discuss with Brady, and carbonated beverages weren’t one of them.
So he’d extended his deadline until the end of August. He reasoned he’d be able to sense a better opportunity than forcing one, and while that reasoning made him feel better about swallowing his fears and pushing The Talk back, he knew better than to bring it up to Jenna.
Brady slid a perfectly cooked steak across the kitchen island, complete with buttered asparagus.
“Fucking hell, you’re a good cook,” Nick said and dug in before Brady managed to sit down across from him with his own steak.
“It’s just steak. It’s literally the easiest meat to cook.”
“Shut up. This is fantastic. Take the damn compliment.”
Brady looked like he didn’t agree, but he didn’t argue.
Nick scarfed down his food, which unfortunately left him time to stew while Brady ate at a reasonable speed.
“Hey,” Nick said as casually as he could. Based on the raised eyebrow that earned him from Brady, he hadn’t succeeded. “Could we talk?”
Pushing his food around on his plate, Brady avoided looking up. “About?”
“It’s not a big deal.” Great Nick, way to start, way to make it sound like it absolutely is a big deal. “I just had a, uh… a question. That I’ve been meaning to ask.”
“Oh,” Brady said neutrally. He abandoned his fork and knife, put both elbows on the table, and rested his head behind his clasped hands. There was a slight tremor there, visible before it disappeared; Nick wasn’t sure if he’d imagined it. “What’s up?”
He also wasn’t sure if he’d ever had Brady’s full attention like this, and he squirmed in his seat.
Brady’s expression was that of a man who knew he wasn’t going to like whatever he was about to hear, and it made Nick fold in on himself under the scrutiny.
It was like a sad accusation, like he was hoping Nick wouldn’t ruin a perfectly good thing.
“So are you…? I mean, us, are we…? Uh…” He could see Brady’s confusion gradually disappearing behind stoney eyes. “You wanna go to a picnic?” he blurted out instead.
There was an awkward clatter as Brady’s elbow slipped off the counter, and he nearly fell off his stool. “Huh?”
“Do you wanna go to a picnic?” Nick repeated, doubling down on the crazy idea. “My family throws one on the farm every year.”
“You’re inviting me to a family picnic?” His tone was unreadable, but he looked baffled. Definitely an improvement from the tense resignation from a minute ago.
It was, only very technically, a family picnic.
It was a tradition they’d started years ago: at the end of August, they’d have a family gathering with all the cousins—a last big get together before the kids went back to school.
As they’d gotten older, it’d slowly evolved into something more: a large party on the family farm, and while there were lots of family members there, there were also lots of neighbors and family friends.
It actually wasn’t that terrible of a plan, inviting Brady.
“I mean, like, kinda? It’s not a family reunion or anything. Most of the people there aren’t family.”
Brady’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “How many people go?”
“I dunno, over a hundred?”
“Over a— What the fuck type of family picnic is this?”
“See?” Nick said. “Not a family thing. It’s more like a neighborhood potluck that my family happens to host. Think the Fourth of July thing at Mags’s sister’s place, except without the fireworks. There’ll be tons of food, beer, and an unnecessarily competitive tournament of some random sport.”
“Uh… sure?” He seemed more caught off-guard than enthusiastic, but Nick beamed at the acceptance. “When?”
“Not until the twenty-seventh or something. I dunno, I’ll have to check.” And then, because he worried, he reached over, took Brady’s hand, and squeezed it. “You sure you wanna go? It’s not a big deal if you don’t.”
Brady looked at their joined hands in consideration.
“I mean, it’s just a picnic, right?” he asked. “Picnics are fun.” Then he pulled away and grabbed their plates to take to the sink. “Movie?”
“Sure.”
The movie was promptly abandoned in favor of lazily making out on the couch, not that either of them complained about the change in plans.
*
“He coming to the thing?” Jenna asked as she fiddled on her phone.
Nick kept working wax onto his stick blade.
“Is who coming to what now?” he asked without looking up.
He and Jenna had long ago perfected the art of hanging out without having to actually talk to each other, something they’d picked up while huddled over textbooks to cram for high-school finals.
It was strangely comforting, familiar and homey in a way he didn’t often feel outside of the farm.
“Brady. Picnic. He coming?”
He blew on the blade and got a whiff of soapy, wax smell. “Yeah,” he said absentmindedly.
Jenna looked up from her phone. “For real?”
Satisfied with his work, he put his stick down and grabbed the next one. “Yeah, why?”
“Is that not a big deal? You’ve brought like three people ever.”
Her tone was enough to snap him out of it.
He looked at her, saw the genuine surprise on her face, and blushed.
While he hadn’t exactly lied to Brady, he had maybe downplayed the significance of the whole picnic…
thing. His parents, his aunts and uncles, his cousins invited people pretty freely.
Nick? Not so much. He didn’t bring friends unless they were really good friends.
Or significant others.
Brady was in that weird gray area between the two.
“It’s not a big deal,” he said, the same mantra he’d been telling himself since he’d asked Brady. It didn’t have to be a big deal, and Nick wouldn’t let it become one.
“I repeat, you’ve only brought three people. Ever. In twenty-or-however-many years we’ve done these things. Everyone’s going to talk.”
“They are not,” Nick scoffed. “Just because Mykala brings a new guy or a new BFF every year doesn’t mean they expect shit from me.”
“No, Mykala brings a whole entourage every year, so no one gives a damn. You never bring anyone, so it’s by definition a big deal.”
Nick gulped. “Terry’s bringing Gail?” he offered weakly. Terry with a girlfriend was definitely more gossip-worthy than Nick bringing someone.
“He’s not, actually. She’s one hundred percent invited, but she’s out of town or something.
So fully expect people to wonder if he’s your boyfriend.
I mean, I wonder if he’s your boyfriend, and you still haven’t given me a good answer…
” She trailed off pointedly. It’d been a whole day since she last brought this up, after all. Maybe even a day and a half.
“We haven’t talked about it yet,” Nick mumbled, and hoped she wouldn’t hear him. As if that would save him.
“You’ve been together or whatever for like two months now!” Jenna shouted loud enough that he winced. “Two months, and you don’t even know if you’re dating!?”
Jenna’s was all about open communication, and that was probably why she could invite her exes to potlucks whereas Nick tended to flee from his whenever he saw them in public.
“I mean, like… I’m pretty sure we’re dating…”
They certainly did all the things people who dated did.
The only thing missing from their intimacy was the public acknowledgement of it.
Brady might sneakily hold Nick’s hand or let his hand linger after a careless touch, but he was much more open with his affection behind closed doors.
He seemed to crave Nick’s touch, but he shied away from anyone seeing him wanting it.
Most of the time, it felt like they were dating… and then there were moments that made him doubt. Like when he’s chickened out and asked Brady about the picnic.
Jenna gave him a look. “It only counts as dating if both people acknowledge it. I know labels are bogus, but talking through this is a step you need to take if you want this relationship to continue long term. And don’t give me that puppy-dog look, I know you’re halfway in love with the guy, so don’t pretend you’re not invested. ”
“I am invested, that’s why I don’t want to rock the boat.”
“Great. It’ll make your proposal in five years really awkward when all you two do is call each other ‘bro’ and occasionally bang.”
Nick flushed and ignored the word “proposal.” “I’ll talk to him,” he said through gritted teeth. Eventually. “You gonna butt out now?”
“Probably not,” Jenna admitted, and gave her full attention back to her phone. “But I’ll lay off for now and work on my big I Told You So speech for later. You almost done with your sticks so we can get lunch? I’m starving.”
He looked at his abandoned stick and sighed. He wasn’t feeling it anymore and regretted even starting when he knew he had a lunch date with his cousin. If he didn’t have a game that night, he’d put it off. “Yeah. Gimme five minutes.”
Jenna, mercifully, waited in silence until he was finishing up, putting the newly waxed sticks with the rest of his gear. It was only as he’d finished putting things away that she dropped another conversation bombshell on him.
“You know it’s your boy’s birthday today?”
“Of course I— Wait, what?”
Jenna made a face as she handed over her phone. It was open to Facebook. There was a message there, short, succinct, and damning.
Lucy J J Rhodes has left a comment on Brady Derek Jensen’s wall:
happy birthday to my fav big bro ??????!!! ?? is in the mail ?? have a good one ??
14 ?? 2 comments
Brady Derek Jensen: thanks
Brady Derek Jensen: I’m still your only brother btw
Nick frowned, checked the timestamp—only a few hours ago—and re-readed it a few times. “It’s his birthday,” Nick said dumbly. Why didn’t he know that? He should have known that, right?