Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
S unlight cut through a gap in the curtains as Jack blinked himself awake. It was bright. Too bright. He tried to sit up but was weighed down by a sleeping Harry sprawled across his body. He reached for his phone on the nightstand, tilted it upward and squinted at the screen for a moment—9:33. Something itched at the base of his skull. Jack ignored it for a moment because it felt nice lying here with Harry on top of him, his face smooshed against Jack’s chest as he slept. Then realisation hit like a bucket full of cold water in the face.
“Oh shit!” He sat up, fumbling for his phone and dislodging Harry.
“Wha–?” Harry flailed awake.
“I didn’t set my alarm! Oh shit!” Jack scrambled out of bed. “The wedding starts in twenty-seven minutes, and I didn’t set my alarm! The fuck is wrong with me?”
He dashed into the bathroom and pissed, then brushed his teeth and splashed water on his face. He combed his wet fingers through his hair and wondered if it would pass as styled. Well, it would have to, wouldn’t it? Harry, his hair sticking out in all directions, elbowed him out of the way at the sink, scattering the contents of his toiletries bag all over the counter.
Jack dashed back into the bedroom and stripped out of his T-shirt and last night’s boxers. Oh God. He couldn’t be late for his sister’s wedding. He wrenched his underwear on and stepped into the pants of his suit. He was aware of Harry darting out of the bathroom.
This was a crisis, but it wasn’t a disaster. It was Goulburn, not Sydney. The church was ten minutes away. They could still make it. He didn’t dare look at his phone to see how much time had passed, but a quick glance at Harry confirmed he was almost dressed too. Jack allowed himself a moment of relief, then?—
“Oh no! Jack!”
The horror in Harry’s voice brought him up short. He looked across at him. He was standing there with the tab of his zipper held between his thumb and his forefinger, and the fly of his black suit hanging open.
“Shit. Do you have a safety pin or something?”
Harry shook his head. “Jack, what do I do? I can’t meet your parents with my dick hanging out!”
“Well, it’s not exactly—” He shut his mouth when he registered the actual distress in Harry’s tone. “Okay. Okay. No safety pin. Uh…” He ran through a hundred different possibilities, each one more ludicrous than the last. If they didn’t have a safety pin, they also didn’t have a stapler, any super glue, or the phone number of an emergency tailor who could materialise in under thirty seconds in their hotel room. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh, shit.”
Harry clamped his mouth shut, but his bottom lip wobbled. He held out the offending zipper tab, a silent plea for a miracle solution that Jack couldn’t provide.
He stepped forward and crouched in front of Harry anyway, just in case it was an easy fix, but he quickly saw that there was no saving the zipper. Quite apart from the broken head, the teeth gaped apart obscenely, and Harry’s underwear was clearly visible.
Harry was right. He couldn’t meet Jack’s parents like this and make a good impression. And God, Jack wanted him to. He wanted to walk into Mia’s wedding with Harry on his arm, tall and proud, and introduce him not as Harry the Bad Date but as Harry the teacher, Harry the guy who couldn’t cook for shit but was hilarious, Harry his boyfriend .
Really, there was only one thing to do.
“Okay,” he said, rising to his feet and pressing a kiss to Harry’s forehead. “Get the peacock suit.”
Harry’s face clearly expressed his horror. “Jack, I can’t?—”
Jack started to strip. “You don’t have to. You’ll wear my suit, and I’ll wear the peacock suit.”
Harry’s jaw dropped.
“Come on,” Jack said. “We can’t be late.” He grabbed the keys to the ute and chucked them at Harry, who managed to catch them and clutch them to his chest.
Harry’s eyes watered. “Are you—do you—are you serious ?”
“As serious as a man contemplating wearing that monstrosity can be.” But he knew what this meant to Harry. He knew Harry was desperate to make a good impression, and that this was a huge deal for him. And maybe it wouldn’t have been if Jack hadn’t been his first boyfriend. Maybe he would have been able to laugh it off, but Jack knew that Harry was deeply insecure about his inexperience, and Jack had already screwed up enough when it came to Harry. But this right here? This was something he could get right.
Harry probably would have stayed standing there if Jack hadn’t said, “Nineteen minutes, Harry. Can you go grab the suit out of the ute?”
The reminder of the ticking clock was enough to get Harry moving, which had been Jack’s intention. They could have a moment about this later on. But right now? They were still running late.
It took Harry exactly four and a half minutes to return with the suit. He was red-faced and sweating, and the fly of his suit still gaped, but he made it. Jack was already undressed. He grabbed the peacock suit out of Harry’s arms and forced himself not to laugh wildly at how fucking ridiculous he was going to look. He didn’t want Harry to think he’d changed his mind.
Six minutes later they were in the ute, and Jack was desperately trying not to speed as they made their way through the streets of Goulburn to Saint John’s. The peacock suit was a little tight, and the legs were so short his ankles were bare. But who would even notice that? Who would even see past the garish pattern? He’d even worn the matching tie, because why the fuck not?
“Okay,” Jack said as they turned into the street Saint John’s was on. “I think we’re going to— shit. ”
The two matching cars out the front with the ribbons on them could only mean Mia and her bridesmaids had already arrived. Jack slammed on the brakes, double-parking in front of someone’s Mazda, and he and Harry tumbled out of the ute just in time to see Mia being helped out of the first car by Mum. Of course, because Dad was conducting the service, so he’d already be inside.
Jack grabbed Harry by the hand and tugged him towards the entrance of the church. Hell, he didn’t care if they were stuck sitting right at the back, he just wanted them to get inside before Mia did .
Mia’s eyes widened when she saw them, and her mouth dropped open. At first Jack thought it was the suit, and he wouldn’t have blamed her, but then he saw that it was Harry she was staring at. For a moment Jack didn’t understand, then he saw her mouth, as clear as day: “Oh, fuck .”
“Hello,” said someone Jack didn’t know, all warm and welcoming and smiling. He had a stack of wedding programs and he thrust one at Jack. “Bride or groom?”
“Oh, shit,” Jack said, as the realisation hit him.
“Bride,” Harry told the guy.
Inside the cool, shadowed church, heads were craning. The church was packed. It wasn’t every day the minister’s daughter got married after the service, and it looked like plenty of Dad’s parishioners had stuck around to see the wedding. Jack caught a glimpse of Tate standing at the altar with his cousin. And Dad, striding down the aisle towards the entrance.
Mia had picked up her pace. She was hurrying towards the church, her dress hiked up to her knees, with Mum fussing behind her like a squawking bird—“Mia! Mia! Mia!”—and her confused bridesmaids trying to keep pace.
Then Mum saw Jack and Harry at the entrance to the church. “Jack! And, and— you ! Oh, my God!”
“Calm your tits, Mum!” Mia exclaimed, clattering up the steps in her heels. “Jack, oh God. I was going to—” She waved her hands, almost smacking Mum in the face with her bouquet. “But then Tate’s dad broke his ankle, and we spent half the night at the hospital, and it just—it just went straight out of my head!” Another wild swing, and this time she did hit Mum. “Mum, listen. Listen . Harry’s Jack’s boyfriend. He was never?—”
And that was when Dad arrived, clutching his Bible like he was going to brain someone with it. “What the bloody hell is that man doing here?”
Jack’s jaw dropped. He’d never heard his dad swear before in his life. And on hallowed ground too. There was probably a lightning bolt headed his way right now. It might be for the best at this point.
“Can everyone just shut up for a second?” he asked. “Mum, Dad.” He looked at them helplessly, then he looked at Harry and immediately regretted it. Harry was devastated . His shoulders were hunched, and his eyes were suspiciously bright as though he was only just holding tears at bay. “Mia!”
Tate and his cousin and a guy with a moon boot—Tate’s dad, probably—joined them in the entrance, then. Because why the fuck not?
“Hey,” Tate said. “Everyone okay? Is there a problem?”
“ He’s the problem,” Dad seethed, pointing his Bible at Harry. Then his expression morphed from anger into regret. “Jack, I know you and I haven’t always seen eye to eye lately, but it’s your sister’s wedding day. This isn’t the time for—” He shook his head. “Retaliation? Rebellion? Is that what this is? Oh, son.”
Harry’s breath shuddered audibly out of him.
Jack reached out and caught his hand. He held it tightly, afraid that Harry was going to run. “Harry’s not rebellion. He’s my boyfriend. He was never dating Mia.”
“But—we met him, at that restaurant,” Mum interrupted. “He was wearing that inappropriate tie! He tipped water on your father!”
“It was a setup. I hired Harry to make Tate look good,” Mia cut in. She shoved her bouquet accusingly at her parents. “Because I knew you’d make a big deal out of Tate’s tattoos and the piercings. And Tate deserves better than you judging him based on how he looks.” She raised her eyebrows. “Judge not, lest ye be judged.”
Jack’s dad opened his mouth, then closed it again.
More heads craned from the pews. You could have heard a pin drop. The wedding photographer snapped a few pictures, and Jack winced. Those would look super in the album.
“You lied?” Mum asked. “You lied to us?”
“Yes,” Mia said, totally without shame. “But Harry’s a good person, and Jack’s ridiculously in love with him, so can we just get this wedding over with please, because my shoes are killing me.”
Harry gasped and stared at Jack.
“I am,” Jack admitted. “Ridiculously in love with you.”
Harry blinked, and tears slid down his cheeks, catching in the upturned corners of his wobbly smile.
“Yeah,” Tate said. “Let’s get married hey, babe? Jack, Harry, there’s room down the front for you guys. Come on, I’ll show you.”
“Jesus, these shoes,” Mia said as Jack tugged Harry down the aisle behind Tate. “I swear to God, I wasn’t expecting my ankles to swell up this much.”
“Language, Mia!” Mum exclaimed.
“Look on the bright side, at least you’re past the morning sickness!” Tate said brightly, right before his shoulders tensed. “Aw, fuck.”
“Mia?” Mum demanded.
Mia shrugged, one hand resting on the small but definite swell of her stomach. Mum froze for a second, eyes widening, and promptly burst into tears.
All in all, Jack reflected later, the service had gone pretty well. Mum had sobbed into her hanky through most of it, but some mothers did that, and Dad had managed to forget the words to the blessing—twice—because he’d kept staring at Mia’s belly instead. Still, at least not many people were fixated on Jack’s terrible peacock suit, so there was that. And Harry had held his hand throughout the entire service, smiling when they fumbled awkwardly with hymnals and programs because neither of them was willing to let go.
Afterwards, the members of the congregation who’d stayed for the wedding had lingered, probably hoping to witness another scene, and Jack couldn’t really blame them. It was probably the most exciting thing to happen in Goulburn this year—hell, this decade. But all that had happened was that his dad had come over and actually shaken Harry’s hand and introduced himself and said that given the circumstances, maybe they could have a fresh start. The wide smile on Harry’s face at that had made wearing the peacock suit worth it, as far as Jack was concerned—even if the photographer had taken far too many pictures of him in it.
The reception was held at the church hall at Saint John’s, a space familiar enough to Jack throughout his childhood that it might as well have been a second home. The Ladies’ Auxiliary had transformed the space with decorations and tables covered in ivory cloths, and the wedding guests sat down to a morning tea of scones, cakes, and finger sandwiches. Neither Mia nor Tate had wanted a lavish reception.
“We told Mum and Dad it was because we’re saving to go travelling,” Mia said, shoving a scone in her mouth. “But really who can afford two hundred dollars a plate when you’re trying to set up a nursery?” She elbowed him. “Love the suit, by the way. ”
“It’s Harry’s,” Jack said. “He had a wardrobe malfunction, so we swapped.”
He looked around for Harry and found him over in the corner of the hall, crouching down and chatting with a couple of toddlers. He grinned. Of course he was. The toddlers were enchanted, and Jack couldn’t blame them.
“He, ah, he seems very good with children.”
Jack hadn’t even noticed Mum sidling up to him. He nodded. “He’s going to be a preschool teacher when he graduates.”
Her expression softened at that, just like he’d known it would. Kids were Mum’s kryptonite. Harry being a preschool teacher would win him a lot of points. And hell, even if Mum was still feeling a little bruised and fragile after finding out about Mia, Jack knew that in a week or two the giddy anticipation of having a grandbaby on the way would outstrip her hurt at being kept in the dark.
“So, explain it to me, Jack. Why does he date other people? Is this—?” He could see Mum choosing her words carefully. “Is it one of those open relationships like people in Hollywood have? With orgies and the like?”
Mia almost choked on her scone.
“No!” Jack rolled his eyes. “He pretends to date people, Mum. He doesn’t sleep with them!”
“And a good thing too!” Mum said staunchly. “But he shouldn’t even be dating them.”
Jack bit his lip so he didn’t laugh. “No, I mean he doesn’t date them at all. He’s like…an actor, I guess. Sometimes people need to pretend they’re dating a really terrible person, for lots of reasons. Harry helps them out.”
Mum pursed her lips in thought. “I’m not sure I understand. But as long as there aren’t any threesomes.”
It was Jack’s turn to choke on his scone .
“Jesus, Mum,” Mia said. “I can’t believe you actually thought Harry would do that. That’d mean me and Jack had both slept with the same guy, you know?”
Mum huffed. “Well that’s what I was afraid of, Mia!”
“Where do you come up with this stuff, Mum?” Jack asked with a sigh.
“I’m not an innocent, Jack,” his mother said. She lowered her voice and leaned in close. “I’ve learned all sorts of things. Sex things. I’ve been watching Louis Theroux.”
Jack winced at the thought.
“Oh, hey,” Mia said. “Is that Aunt Cassie? I need to talk to her.” She rushed away like the coward she was, leaving Jack alone with Mum.
Great .
“Please don’t tell me about the sex things you learned from the ABC, Mum. Please.” To distract her, he said, “I bet you can’t wait to start buying cute things for the baby.”
Crisis averted. Mum perked up and was suddenly digging for a pen and notebook in her handbag, making a list of everything Mia and Tate would need to set up their nursery.
Dad joined them. “Cup of tea?”
“I’m good,” Jack said.
Dad sighed and put a hand on his shoulder. “How’s the apprenticeship going?”
Jack wondered if this was an olive branch. “Really well. I’m going to take some courses at TAFE when it’s over, so that eventually I’ll be able to start my own business. But I think it’ll be good to stay where I am for a while, to learn as much as I can.”
“That sounds like a good idea.” They stood in awkward silence for a moment, then Dad sighed again. “Jack, if I’ve ever made you feel that you failed to live up to our expectations, then I’m sorry. ”
Jack jolted.
“And, even if I did,” Dad said, “those are my expectations, and I have no right to impose them on you. You’re your own person, and I’m very proud of that. It means we raised you right. We might have different definitions of success, but whatever you decide to do with your life, I’ll do my best to be happy for you, as long as you’re happy.”
Jack cleared his throat. “Thanks, Dad.”
His dad looked him up and down. “Although I have to say, I have concerns about your dress sense.”
Jack laughed. “This? It’s a long story.” Then he realised that maybe his dad needed to know it. “It’s Harry’s bad date suit. The zip on his good suit broke so I gave him mine, because he really wanted to make a good impression on you and Mum. It’s really important to him.”
Dad looked surprised, then impressed.
“Dad, I really care for him a lot. He’s special.”
“He must be, if you’re willing to go out in public wearing that .” Dad looked over to where Harry was now teaching the kids a clapping game. “Well, I’ll go and see if he wants a cup of tea, shall I?”
“Yeah,” Jack said, warmth spreading through him. “That’d be nice.”
There was dancing, after all. Mia in bare feet, and Tate wearing a grin as big as the universe. Mum and Dad. Aunt Cassie and Uncle Gavin, shuffling slowly in deference to his new hip. And Jack and Harry, hands held, swaying together.
“Oh,” said Harry, halfway through the song. “I forgot to say it before, what with everything.”
Jack raised his eyebrows.
“I love you too,” Harry said, and beamed.