15. Deepening Doubt
FIFTEEN
DEEPENING DOUBT
Ian
I should’ve said no.
That’s all I can think as I follow my parents to the elevators and up to the opulent stretch of the Ritz’s top floor rooms. We’re having our picture taken in a suite. Of course we are.
Trish may not have picked up on it, but I knew as soon as we were taken out of the receiving line that we were being “handled.” And when Gale stepped in, right after my father wanted a private chat, my suspicions were all but confirmed.
They separated Trish from me under the guise of a family portrait.
Family. Ha .
“I’ll give you guys ten minutes, then I’m heading back down to Trish.”
“You worry too much,” Gale says, her steps never faltering. “She’s getting the royal treatment. Escort into the ballroom, her own selection of wine and hors d’oeuvre as she waits. She’s fine .”
Gale slides the key into the door, ushering us in. My mother inclines her head in thanks as she walks past. I have no idea if she knows about Gale and my father’s long-running affair.
When I first found out about my father and Gale, I’d been determined to let my mother know. But my fourteen-year-old self couldn’t find a way to bring up to his mother that he’d caught his father schlepping someone else in the house.
Now, years later, I’m not sure if my mother would even care.
Two people that I hadn’t noticed in the large room step forward from the bar area, a woman with a camera around her neck and a man holding reflective fabric disks.
“I was thinking of setting up here.” The photographer motions to the couch. “We’ll turn it so its back is to the balcony and the drapes frame the shot.”
“Fine, fine.” My father grabs a glass of scotch that Gale seemed to procure out of thin air. “But make sure the flags are there.”
“Already on it,” Gale says, clapping her hands.
And like something out of a historical royal drama, two people emerge from one of the bedrooms, each struggling with large, heavy flagpoles, one with the Texas flag, the other carrying Old Glory.
Meanwhile, the photographer and assistant start adjusting lights.
Two more people appear, one tucking tissues into the collar of my father’s shirt and dusting his face with powder while the other squats down to buff his shoes.
My mother sits perfectly straight on the edge of a dining room chair, her ever-vacant expression unmarred by time or disappointment.
Just another day in the circus that is my family.
I stare hard at Gale. “Ten minutes.”
My jaw feels like it’s about to crack.
“That should be it.” The photographer lowers her camera. “I got some wonderful shots.” She nods at my father. “You have a beautiful family, sir.”
My father preens at her words while I try to unfreeze the forced smile from my face. It really did only take ten minutes, but those ten minutes felt like forever.
There’s a knock on the door, and I’m so beyond over being here with my father that it takes a second to register the familiar face that enters the suite.
“Ian?”
I blink, surprised. “Brenda?” The blond-haired, blue-eyed girl I knew from high school enters the room, followed by former Dallas Mayor McGowan and his wife— Brenda’s parents.
My father walks forward, hand outstretched. “Teddy. Glad you could come.” The two old cronies pump hands while my mother compliments Mrs. McGowan’s gown. Turning to my old friend, my father takes both her hands in his. “Brenda, dear, you look lovely.”
“Thank you, sir.” She smiles, but with the pinch between her brows, I can tell it’s forced.
“Call me Richard. After all, you’re all grown up yourself now, aren’t you?
” He spreads his arms wide, forcing hers to do the same before looking her up and down.
“Graduated from Baylor and now running charity functions in both Dallas and Houston.” He eyes me over his shoulder. “An impressive woman, eh?”
And here it is. I should’ve known something was coming when he didn’t make a fuss after I said I was bringing a date despite him wanting me to meet someone of his choosing. He let me think I got my way, then did what he wanted anyway.
My clenched fists practically vibrate.
“It’s good to see you, Bren.” I take a deep breath.
Brenda and I both grew up in the shadows of politically important men, so she understands that my hostile demeanor has nothing to do with her and everything to do with our family dynamics.
That understanding helped bond us as friends back in the day.
She grimaces as she’s passed from my father to my mother for a hug.
More shoulder clapping and murmured compliments follow before Brenda can slip past them to stand next to me.
Our parents continue their usual posturing.
And though my father keeps trying to catch my eye to urge me forward, I don’t engage.
I just watch the spectacle from a short distance away.
“It’s good to see you all, but I have to get back to my date now.”
My father dismisses my statement with a sip of his drink. “Now, now, Gale said the girl is fine, I’m sure she’s fine.”
I dismiss him right back. “Please excuse me.”
Brenda’s hand on my sleeve stops me. “Could I talk to you for a minute?” She gestures to the balcony behind us.
My father smirks at me from the bar, his earlier pique squashed at the sight of Brenda and me together. The drink in his hand is even slightly raised, as if he’s saluting his own machinations.
It’s enough to make me storm out, but the look on my friend’s face stops me. She was always there for me in high school, whenever the pressure from public life got to be too much. I’d be an asshole if I shook her off now.
Turning my back on my father, I lead Brenda out through the French doors, the warm, fresh air on my skin a relief after the stifling atmosphere inside. Reaching the railing, I look over, the lights of moving cars visible, but the traffic noise a distant hum from this height.
“I’m gay.”
I blanch, turning away from the view below to blink at my childhood friend. “Uh, okay.” When she continues to stare at me, I add, “Congratulations?”
That breaks her stone facade, the smile I remember from years ago making an appearance. “Idiot.”
We laugh, the awkwardness vanishing.
Shaking my head, I cross my arms and lean back against the railing. “Not that I’m not happy you confided in me, but is there a reason you needed to tell me you’re gay?”
“Because I’m hoping my sexual preferences will get you to stop your father’s rather obvious and archaic arranged relationship plan.”
“Ah.”
“Yes, ‘ah.’” Brenda steps up beside me, her eyes scanning the nighttime cityscape.
“It took a lot of courage for me to come out to my super conservative parents, but I did. Dad took it better than I thought when I announced that not only am I gay but I’ve been dating a woman for over a year.
” Brenda pauses to reflect. “It probably helped that he was already out of office at the time.” She nudges me with her shoulder.
“But now your father has him all riled up, trying to convince me that I should marry you and keep my girlfriend on the side.” Her knuckles whiten on the railing. “Like this is the 1950s or something.”
The familiarity of our friendship, based on each of us understanding what it’s like with parents in the public eye, falls over me like the well-worn country club blazer from my youth.
“I’m glad you came out, Bren. I was rooting for you.”
Her eyebrows jump up. “You knew?”
“I suspected.” I lean in, nudging her back. “I mean, how else could you resist me all through high school?”
Bren rolls her eyes. “Idiot.”
“Can’t you just go to an event or two with your girlfriend, let people know you don’t swing my way?”
“That wouldn’t be fair to Chrissy.”
“Chrissy?”
“My girlfriend.” Her eyes light up, making me smile. “She isn’t out of the closet yet. Her father is a minister, like one of the ones on TV with the basketball arena type churches.”
“Damn. You sure didn’t make it easy on yourself.”
“She’s worth it.” Her expression falls. “Plus, it’s not really fair of me to bring her into all this. I’d be using her if I did that. What I need to do is stand my ground with my parents.”
Brenda’s words hit me hard. I think of Trish, so obviously uncomfortable with her surroundings, and still I brought her here. I thought I was playing it smart. Avoiding needless confrontation.
I figured with my no-confrontation, behind-the-scenes maneuvering getting me out of the Olympics and enrolled at MIT, that the same way of dealing with things would work this time. Especially arriving here tonight with Trish on my arm,
But then again, MIT was the start of my claustrophobia, and Trish is downstairs with a bodyguard while I’m secluded with my father’s choice in wife for me.
It sucks realizing I’m not as smart as I think I am.
I push off the railing, the emotions I’m feeling too heavy for the metal bars to hold. “I’ve got to get back to my date.” I pull her in for a quick side hug. “But I am sorry about my father, Bren. I’ll tell him to back off.”
“Thanks.” Bren squeezes me back before letting go. “For what it’s worth, you do have it worse,” she says, a smile in her voice. “Senator outranks city mayor, and my dad has at least retired.” Her eyes cut to me and she smirks. “Plus, no offense, but my dad isn’t half the dick yours is.”
Throwing my head back, I laugh, the sound booming over the city. “Truer words have never been spoken.”
Trish
I should’ve said no.
When Ian asked me to be his date, I should’ve said no. When I found out his father was a senator, I should’ve said no. And when the serious-looking bodyguard told me to stand in the corner, near the restrooms, I should’ve said no.
Yet here I am, empty champagne flute in hand, looking like a wallflower at prom as I wait for Ian, all while lamenting my life’s choices.