Chapter 2
Beckett was shaking with nerves when he walked into his parents’ house.
It was silly because he’d been here before with Hayes, and yet now, it felt like a whole other story.
The last time they’d been here together, their relationship had been—well, hardly worth talking about.
They hadn’t even referred to each other as boyfriends.
Hell, they’d avoided discussing it as much as possible.
Now? They lived together, called each other partners in every sense of the word, and were admittedly head over heels in love.
This was a special form of insanity that Beckett was sure he’d never recover from.
“I need a shot—either right up the ass, or of tequila,” Beckett said, as he fought to regain control of his nerves.
Hayes snorted with amusement and squeezed his shoulder.
“Maybe it’s best to stay sober for this one—” Hayes replied.
“Besides, we don’t have to do anything.” He was perfectly calm, like he’d done this a million times before.
There was no fear in his voice and he wasn’t putting any pressure on Beckett.
Hayes wanted to be out to Beckett’s parents.
He’d told Beckett as much, but he was also well aware of how much his family meant to Beckett, and just how truly harrowing it would be if they were anything but accepting of their relationship.
Beckett shook his head as he’d done a million times already. He’d made up his mind long before they’d decided to come up for the store opening. Hayes deserved to be known for what he was—a giant fucking part of Beckett’s life. And Beckett didn’t have a history of cowering.
“Would you please—I’m having a moment,” he said, holding out a hand in a dramatic gesture that had to count as a prime example of the “flailing about” Devin referred to when talking about Beckett’s drama queen tendencies.
Hayes merely snorted again.
“Maman?” Beckett called out, as they left the front hall and headed for the kitchen.
“Setting the table!” she called from the dining room. Beckett followed the sound of her voice and found her preparing place settings.
“Hi, Beck, sweetheart! You boys are staying for dinner, right?” she asked, turning to look at him fondly. She glanced back and forth between him and Hayes for reassurance.
“Right, yes, but about that—” he began, taking a deep breath and looking back at Hayes. He’d decided to come out to his mother first, thinking it was best to get over the biggest hurdle first. The opinions of his siblings didn’t matter nearly as much.
“The thing is—” Beckett started to explain, but he was interrupted mid-sentence.
“Mom, where do I put the Chinese takeout?” Jackson yelled from the front entryway.
“Oh!” Cynthia exclaimed as she walked towards the door of the dining room to give Jackson instructions. “On the counter!” Then she turned back to Beckett, placing her hand gently on his shoulder, and said, “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”
“Well—so, I brought Hayes with me—”
“Right, and I’m so happy you’re both here! After last Christmas, I definitely needed a redo where no one gets shot!” She laughed as if the whole blood-on-the-carpet debacle hadn’t shaved ten years off their lives.
“Right, yeah, but that’s not really the reason I brought him—” Beckett tried to regain control of the conversation and get back on topic.
“What’s not the reason you brought who?” Jackson asked, as he interrupted their conversation for the second time. He’d changed from the suit he’d been wearing at the store’s grand opening, and was now in jeans and a sweatshirt.
Beckett envied him. He’d removed his tie and jacket, but he was still in his dress shirt and slacks.
“Hayes. Beckett was explaining why he brought Hayes,” she said, including Jackson in their discussion, instantly turning the whole thing into a group conversation.
Beckett could feel any modicum of control he’d had five minutes ago just slip away. This was not turning out the way he wanted it to. At all.
“No need to explain, Becky. Hayes is always welcome! Especially since he’s the only one of us who can like—spin you around and disarm you if you go cuckoo again,” Jackson declared with a warm laugh, crossing his arms over his chest. Their mother whacked him on the shoulder, and he howled in protest.
“What was that for?” he whined indignantly.
“We don’t say cuckoo! The term is triggered! He has PTSD because he’s a war hero. We don’t make fun of him for that.” She frowned and wagged her finger in Jackson’s face for emphasis.
“Who’s a war hero?” Maggie asked, as she crashed the party as well.
Beckett groaned and gritted his teeth. The damned room was quickly getting too crowded for what he’d planned. Dammit! Meanwhile, without any input from him whatsoever, the conversation about POWs swirled around him.
“Beck,” Jackson said, rolling his eyes like he disagreed.
“I thought the term was a prisoner of war?” Maggie asked with a slight frown.
“Most people just say POW,” Jackson remarked.
“Who says pow? But more importantly, who are we shooting?” John asked, as he walked into the dining room to stand next to his wife.
“We’re not shooting anyone!” Maman exclaimed as she whacked him in the middle of his chest. Didn’t her hand hurt from so much whacking?
“Well, as you’ll recall, Beckett and Hayes shot a bunch of people right here last Christmas,” Jackson reminded them with a cocky grin as he pointed towards the living room.
“Pretty sure Hayes did all the shooting, Beckett only got shot at,” Franklin stated as he walked into the dining room, his smug grin declaring his intent to stir up trouble.
“Hey! I used my knife! Which is even more badass!” Beckett exclaimed indignantly.
“Probably why he’s got a few screws loose,” Maggie snorted, unable to resist taking a shot at him.
Maman reached over and smacked her shoulder. “Triggered! Your brother is not insane, he’s triggered!”
“Because he’s a war hero,” Jackson said with a firm nod as if he’d just made some kind of official pronouncement.
“Wasn’t he a prisoner of war?” John asked, thoroughly confused at this point.
This was the last fucking straw for Beckett. He just couldn’t take any more of this or he really would have to shoot someone. He’d probably start with his brothers and give everybody else a pass.
“Enough!” Beckett roared, throwing his hands in the air, startling everyone into silence. “Christ, it’s impossible to get a single fucking word in!”
“Language,” his mother reminded him. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Weren’t you trying to tell me something before we got sidetracked?”
“What was he trying to say?” Beckett’s father whispered to Jackson, as though Beckett wouldn’t hear him.
“Why he’d brought Hayes,” Jackson replied.
“Why did Beckett bring Hayes?” Maggie asked curiously.
Beckett glanced around the room and then took a deep breath. “Hayes and I are partners.”
His family stared at him blankly. Obviously, they weren’t getting it.
“Well—” Maggie responded first as she glanced around the room at the others. “I’ll just say it—that’s more than just triggered. Boy’s only got half a brain left. It’s just calling a spade a spade to say he’s nutso.”
Hayes snorted with amusement, which was the first contribution he’d made since the whole family discussion about Beckett got started. Suddenly, Beckett realized just how ludicrously simpleminded his big declaration must have sounded. Like a bird declaring it had wings.
“No—what I meant is—” Beckett broke off and rubbed his forehead while he tried to come up with just the right words.
“Is nutso worse than cuckoo?” Jackson interjected before Beckett could explain himself.
“That word is unacceptable in this house,” their mom replied, looking cross now.
“Oh, come on, Mom! He just declared that his partner was his partner—I’m either going mad, or Beckett’s got a bunch of loose screws rattling around in his head!” Maggie tapped her forehead to reinforce her view that Beckett was mentally deficient.
“D’you mean you got a promotion, kiddo? You’re partners in a different way? Different job?” His father asked, clearly trying to make sense of things.
Beckett felt the urge to either scream or punch somebody.
“No! That’s not—”
“Beckett’s been through a lot! If he wants to tell us about—” his mother swiftly jumped to his defense.
But Beckett had had enough of this shillyshallying. Time to just rip off the Band-Aid.
“We’re fucking!” He yelled at the top of his voice like a drill sergeant. Immediately, they all fell silent and turned to look at him.
“Hayes and I are partners as in, we’re dating. We’ve been together since last Christmas. He’s my partner—my boyfriend, whatever. I love him.” Thank God he’d stunned everyone long enough to get that out there on the table before someone else threw in their two cents worth.
However, silence never lasted for long in that house.
“You’re gay?” Jackson looked stunned.
“For him,” Beckett replied with a quick nod.
His father stepped towards him and, briefly, he wondered if he’d get punched. He felt somewhat reassured that he could not recall a time when his father had ever raised a hand to him or anyone else.
Instead, John bypassed him and extended a hand towards Hayes. “Well, then—welcome to the family, son!”
Beckett felt his knees tremble with relief. It was just the right thing to say, apparently, to push the reset button on this whole dramatic scene. Suddenly, he and Hayes were tackled from all sides with congratulatory hugs and back slapping.
“Well, isn’t that just the most darling surprise!” his mother exclaimed, hugging Hayes tightly and wiping tears from her eyes.
“Thank you.” Hayes blushed and shuffled his feet awkwardly, making Beckett grin at his partner’s inability to maintain a cool facade in the face of his mother’s affection for him.
“So—wait—all this time?” Jackson asked in stunned amazement, unable to understand how they’d successfully kept this under wraps until now.