Chapter 20 #2
“Marty, do you think I don’t remember what a Martin Lessand joke sounds like?
Do you want to know how I knew you and Stephanie were meant for each other?
It was when I realized that she found your nonsense just as funny as I did.
I am Mr. Gay Divorced VP, and don’t you forget it, Mr. Restaurant-Owning, Chamber-of-Commerce Dad! ”
“Thanks, man. My kid’s great, right? A doctor? My son, a freakin’ pediatrician. He works so hard at that school. I hope he’s found time to have some fun too. He had a boyfriend before he left for college, but he says they’re just friends. I’d love to see Austin find someone, like I found Steph.”
I averted my eyes, knowing there had to be a simple, obvious response to a friend worrying about his son, but none were coming to my mind as alarm bells rattled my brain. Martin misinterpreted my avoidance, or maybe he hit it head-on.
“You know, I wish that for you, too, right? I’m sorry about your marriage, but I know there’s a great guy out there for you. This town is full of queer people. I think that’s one of the reasons we all fell in love with it. Austin has always felt so at home here.”
“Mart …”
“No, no, no, I get it. Too far away from your remote cabin! Oh hey! Maybe Austin knows a single professor …”
Martin stopped in front of a toy store and got distracted, thank God, from talking about either my love life or his son’s.
“Oh, let’s stop in here. I’ll introduce you to one of my fellow committee members.
Anyway, what I wanted to say is that I really love it here, man.
I love my life. And Austin is thriving. Can you believe I’m married to a bank executive, and I have a son who’s going to be a doctor?
I’ve found my happily ever after, and I know you will, too, Randy.
Hell, now that you’re back, I’ll make sure of it!
Seems only fair since you were so instrumental in me finding mine. ”
I laughed along with him at that acknowledgment, Austin’s proclamation from back at the cabin bouncing around my brain until it was a cloudy mess.
If it weren’t for you, there’d be no me.
Just another reason I needed to stop thinking about the young man who had his whole life ahead of him. We stood outside the toy store, Marty staring at me, awaiting a response. I cleared my throat, and my thoughts, as best I could.
“You should be proud of your family, Mart. And don’t sell yourself short.
You always supported Steph. Her success is your success.
And I can’t wait to see that restaurant of yours in action!
And your son …” How did I explain to Marty what I thought of his son without every deep emotion flashing over my face?
“He’s a good …” Yeah, I couldn’t say kid.
“... man. He seems like a really good man. Caring and supportive, like his dad. Smart and driven, like his mom.”
“Yeah, he really is the best of both of us.”
Martin reached for the door of the toy shop but paused before opening it.
“And speak of the devil.” He smiled over my shoulder, and I turned to find Austin, adorably bundled up in his puffy winter coat, the pom-pom of a knitted cap bobbing atop his head, which was pulled down to block the ocean wind that whipped past us.
His hands were tucked in his pockets as he walked shoulder to shoulder with a similarly clad man, who was looking up at us.
A small shopping bag hung from Austin’s wrist, bouncing between the two men.
The other man appeared to be around Austin’s age and had wisps of blond hair peeking out from under his cap, blowing in his face.
He wiped them away as he smiled at Martin and elbowed Austin in the ribs.
“Hi, Mr. Lessand. Austin said you might be out doing some last-minute shopping! It’s good to see you.”
“Dalton, how many times have I told you to call me Martin?”
Austin was ignoring the conversation in favor of looking at me. He lifted one leg, pointing a boot-clad toe at me. “I found an old pair of boots in my closet.”
“Well done, you!” We laughed at each other, and I could sense Martin and Dalton as they watched our exchange.
Dalton had moved forward to shake Martin’s hand, but when he stepped back, he was standing shoulder to shoulder with Austin once again.
Something akin to fire burned in my stomach, but it wasn’t the intense, erotic fire I had experienced over the past few days or the heat that prickled through me constantly, wondering what Austin was thinking.
The flame in my stomach, which contrasted with the bitter-cold whip of the ocean breeze, tried to fight its way out of my body by shooting daggers from my eyes in the direction of the young man standing too close to Austin.
I tempered my face and smiled, but Dalton was looking the other way, through the window of the toy store, paying me no mind.
“This is perfect!” Martin exclaimed. I had somewhat forgotten how positive and upbeat he could be most of the time. “I was just telling Preston that you kids have to tell Randall where to go for New Year’s Eve! All the hot clubs! And we were just about to go in and meet Turner. Come on.”
I caught Austin rolling his eyes my way as Martin reached for the door to the shop again, only the door chimed and opened before he reached it.
A man held it open, taking us all in, his eyes lingering a beat or two longer on Dalton than on the rest of us.
He seemed older than Austin and Dalton but younger than Martin and me.
He was not bundled up, instead wearing jeans and a long-sleeve golf shirt with an emblem that matched the image on the store’s window.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” the man said as he held eyes with Dalton. “Dalton. Austin. Home from college, I take it?” He didn’t wait for an answer, tearing his eyes from Dalton to shake my hand. “Hi, I’m Turner. Welcome to Breakwater Toys and Gifts.”
“Randall.” As we shook hands, I was surprised to find that Austin had moved forward and was standing right behind me.
“Doing some eleventh-hour shopping?” Turner asked, waving us in.
Martin plowed ahead and started spinning a display of children’s books, seemingly unaware of any awkward stares, mine included, that may have been going on.
Dalton ducked his head and walked past us to enter the store, and I tried very hard not to shoot those daggers into him as I stared at him from behind.
He quickly brushed past the man holding the door open.
I didn’t realize I was standing in place just outside the door until Austin placed a hand at the small of my back.
“Hey, Turner,” he said as he guided me into the store. “Dalton and I are doing some Christmas shopping, but Dad is showing his friend Randall the Three B’s and the boardwalk. Randall just moved back to the US from London.”
Austin still had his hand at my back as the door shut, and we continued to converse in front of it. Austin seemed as intent on introducing me to this single man as his father had been, and that fire in my gut hardened and sunk. I plastered on a polite smile anyway.
“Oh, I love London! Welcome home, and welcome to Breakwater Beach.”
Martin was bending down and playing with a wooden train set, but he looked up as he said, “Randy and I went to college together. I was just asking the kids where all the hip gay guys go for New Year’s Eve. Aus, Dalt, where do you guys usually go?”
Turner’s eyes went wide, and he glanced at Dalton, who was busy looking at a rack of greeting cards. I could sense Austin standing right behind me.
“We usually just roam, Dad. And we don’t always go to queer spaces since we’re usually with our high school friends.”
“And you give me too much credit, Marty,” Turner contributed. “I am in no way a hip dance-club kind of guy.” He looked at Dalton again. “I’m much more of a homebody these days.”
“Seriously, Dad. I think you and Mom might have the most exciting plans of any of us for next week.” I turned to watch as Austin tried to catch Dalton’s eye even as he spoke to Turner.
“No plans, then, for New Year’s Eve, Turner?”
Turner looked at Dalton as he answered. “Nah. I’ll keep the shop open for a few hours that day, but other than that …”
“Cool,” Dalton said even though Turner’s sentence had faded off without concluding. Austin appeared somewhat distracted as he’d taken his phone out and was typing something. My phone pinged shortly thereafter.
“Whelp.” Marty straightened up from playing with the train set. “I do have actual last-minute shopping to do. Then I need to help open the restaurant. Randall, are you coming or …”
I was busy looking at my phone. Austin had sent an image with the word “awkward” on it. And then he’d texted me:
The Excuse: OMG. My dad is too much! I wish we could get out of here and leave Dalton and Turner alone. I’ll fill you in later.
My heart fluttered at his message. Austin wanted to spend time with me and not with his old high school boyfriend.
I looked up from my phone, avoiding making eye contact with Austin. “Marty, I really have to get some work done.”
Austin chimed in, waving the bag he held.
“Yeah, and I have some gifts to wrap. You drove, right, Randall? Dad’s Jeep was still in the driveway when Dalton picked me up.
Mind if I ride back with you? We’ll be back at the restaurant later for dinner, Dad.
I can bring your car for you then if you plan to stay and help Preston close. ”
Martin looked at his watch. “I guess I should get back to the Three B’s, but your mom has a conference call at two, so no blasting heavy metal music while you're wrapping gifts.”
I laughed. “I think you mean no blasting holiday tunes, Mart,” I said, and Martin tilted his head at me. From where he stood next to Dalton, Austin’s eyes went wide before he stepped forward and chimed in.
“You make me sound like a moody teenager, Dad. You’re a bigger heavy metal fan than I am.”
“That’s right. You were quite the headbanger when we were in college,” I contributed.
Austin rubbed his hands together. “Ooh. Is it time for another embarrassing story?” He held the door open, waving at his friend. “Later, Dalt. Thanks for helping me with this.” He waved the shopping bag in his hand. He looked pointedly at his friend.
“Turner, Dad. See you later. So, Randall, heavy metal?”
I described his dad’s haircut, or lack thereof, when we were sophomores, and how quickly he got it cut after I’d introduced him to Stephanie. Austin laughed along with me as we walked up the boardwalk. We were quiet after that until we reached my car.
At the driver’s door he reached out his hand to stop me opening it. “Can I drive?”
“For someone who doesn’t like to drive …”
“I want to show you something.”
I looked down at our joined hands and back up at him before nodding and walking around to take the passenger’s seat. Austin tossed his package in the seat behind him and started the car, fiddling with the buttons until holiday music floated from the speakers.
Austin didn’t drive far, taking us just a few blocks north, where we could park the car and watch the ocean ebb and flow in front of us.