Chapter Fifteen #2
“I think he would’ve really liked Gabriel, actually,” Sean said. “I think he would’ve. I think he would’ve hated him, too, a little. The way I did, at first.”
Lacy was smiling, even as he saw the tears drip down her cheek. “You didn’t like Gabriel at first?”
“He owns a food truck, too,” Sean said. Resigned, because while the specter of Milo wasn’t around to ask, his mother was.
And that was somehow even better. “We actually have the same name on our trucks,” he added, and found he was smiling, too.
Impossibly. “He didn’t like it when I showed up in LA, and of course I wasn’t going to change it, because it was always what Milo wanted, right? ”
“Right.” Lacy chuckled. “And so you argued with him about it.”
“Oh my god, so many times,” Sean said. Thinking of all those times when he’d kept the argument going because he hadn’t wanted Gabe to turn and walk away.
How had he never realized that he hadn’t wanted him to go because he liked him, not because he disliked him?
“You still haven’t changed the name, have you?” Lacy asked.
Sean shook his head. “But I’m thinking . . . I’ve thought that maybe I should.”
“Really?” For the first time since she’d appeared out of the mist, Lacy looked surprised.
“I fucked things up,” Sean said succinctly.
“I let him think that I didn’t care about him.
And then I left. There’s no excuse for it, I was confused, yeah, but I wasn’t so confused that I couldn’t see that things were changing between us, that I was feeling.
But I denied it, and I pretended, and I dragged him along.
” Sean shoved a hand through his hair, feeling the cold, damp moisture in the air.
It felt totally different here than it did at the beach in California.
And even though it was warm and sunny there, and usually the opposite here, at Cannon Beach, Sean thought he preferred this. It felt right.
“You need to go easy on yourself,” Lacy said. “He was the first . . . since Milo?”
Sean nodded. “I didn’t even realize we were in the middle of something, and then we were, and I couldn’t handle it. It was easier to keep acting like it was nothing. Just sex.” He blushed, realizing that he’d said sex to his husband’s mother. But she just laughed, completely unconcerned.
“You’re not even thirty,” Lacy said conspiratorially. “You’re allowed to want things. Even men. Especially men.”
“Well, I wanted him,” Sean admitted. “And I took him, and god, I shouldn’t have. Not because of Milo, but totally because of Milo.” Sean stood and began to pace again. “He deserves someone better. Someone who doesn’t have to lie to themselves.”
Lacy’s words were kind, but they were firm. “I think the only person who gets to say what they deserve is Gabriel, and I think if you love him, then he’s probably a very forgiving person. A kind person. A generous person. And he wouldn’t want to hold this against you.”
Sean remembered how Gabriel had tried to convince him. How his face had fallen when Sean had said that he needed space.
“He wouldn’t,” Sean agreed. “He’s . . .” Sean grinned then, because a thousand different Gabriels paraded through his mind.
Gabriels throwing meatballs. Gabriels teasing him.
Gabriels laughing. Gabriels cooking, his confident capable hands constructing something delicious.
Gabriels kissing him. Gabriels smiling, soft and sweet, when he thought Sean wasn’t looking.
“He’s that and more,” he finally finished.
Lacy was crying again, and impossibly still smiling, and she stood, joining him, looking out over the bluff where they’d scattered Milo’s ashes. “He’d be so happy for you,” she said softly. “Someone to love you when he couldn’t anymore.”
“You think so?” Sean looked out over the ocean, and for the first time, felt like he could believe it.
Lacy put her arm around his shoulders, pulling him in tightly.
“I believe it,” she said. “And I want you to come up here, during the slow season, and I want you to bring this new guy of yours. I told you this, on the worst day, and I want you to know it on the best too: you’re family. You’ll always be family.”
Sean didn’t have any more words. Just put his arms around her and hugged her tight and hard, wondering how he’d gotten so lucky to have a wonderful husband and a family who’d loved him, through thick and thin.
And then to get lucky enough to find someone else he could love. Who loved him back.
Sean knew in that moment that he wouldn't be waiting four more days to go back to Los Angeles. He needed to see Gabe, and he needed to tell him something.
Something important.
Something life-changing.
Something so wonderful that Sean didn’t know how he hadn’t done it before now.
Gabriel hadn’t been able to bear going to the truck lot during the break week.
It was bad enough that it felt empty and barren without the people that usually frequented it, but without Sean? It felt even worse.
He felt even worse.
What were they going to do when he came back?
It was hard to keep hope alive when it had been over a week and the last thing Sean had said to him was maybe we should take a break from each other, at least for a little while.
Maybe Sean would come back to LA, and he’d have moved on. He’d greet Gabriel with regret in his eyes and reluctance to touch written all over his face. He’d say something like, “Space was good, and I think we might need more of it. Permanently.”
“Are you . . .” Trailing off in a muttered curse underneath his breath, Ren snapped his fingers in front of Gabe’s face. “Are you standing there, envisioning the worst again?”
“Again?” Gabe tried for an innocent tone but that ship had sailed, at least a few days ago. Probably after the tenth recitation of what he thought might happen when Sean came back.
“Again,” Ren said firmly. “Why is it that it’s always the worst-case scenarios you’re fantasizing about? Who are you and what have you done with my relentlessly optimistic cousin?”
Gabriel leaned against the counter in the kitchen in their loft, where ingredients were strewn from one side to the other. Recipe testing was never a pretty business.
“He fell in love,” Gabriel muttered. Then held up his hand. “And I really don’t want to hear it, Ren, okay? It was a terrible idea. I never should have touched him. I know it.”
He wasn’t sure if Ren was right and he’d been relentlessly optimistic, but he’d generally taken on a positive view of things. Not much fazed him for long.
Before, Gabe had been so sure that Sean loved him too and was just scared, but a week later, after the feel of his touch had faded from his skin? Well, he wanted to still be that certain, but all that certainty was currently being crowded out by reality.
Gabriel did not like reality very much.
“Hey,” Ren said, snapping again in front of his face, “come back to LA, and help me with this.” He had a pan of meatballs on the stove, glazed with a variation of the mixture they’d used for the Thai wrap, that was meant for the banh mi sandwich.
Strips of cucumber and carrot and radish were quick pickling in a bowl and Ren had just finished mixing up the spicy mayonnaise mixture that they were going to smear across the toasted bun.
Bun . . .
Something was tickling Gabriel’s memory. Something he needed to be doing. His memory was spotty these days—at least where anything that didn’t relate to Sean was concerned.
“Crap,” Gabriel said suddenly. “I have to meet the sign guy at the truck.”
“He has the new signage ready?” Ren said, carefully shaking the pan of glazed meatballs. “That was quick.”
“They usually are, once the idea gets approved.”
“Tony is going to murder you, slowly, for not telling him ahead of time.”
“Probably,” Gabriel said. Truthfully, the shock on Tony’s face was one of the few things that gave him a lot of joy these days.
Though, the idea that he and Ren were revolutionizing their menu, together, using one of Nonna’s famous recipes as the backbone, that made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside, too.
Even if everything went as badly as he feared it would with Sean, even if he never loved him, and Gabriel had to pine for him forever, at least he and Ren would have this.
“I’m going to have to leave in a few minutes,” Gabe added, as he watched Ren carefully begin to assemble the sandwich.
“Well, at least stick around until this is done and you can try it. Decide if we need any more changes,” Ren said, an edge of annoyance in his voice. “We’ve got two more recipes we need to finalize before we open again tomorrow.”
“We’ll get it done,” Gabriel said, trying to find his confidence again.
“If you hurry back, we will,” Ren said.
“I will,” Gabriel promised.
Ren piled the meatballs onto the sandwich, then using his fingers, grabbed a handful of the picked veggies, and arranged them on top.
Grabbed a spoon, and drizzled the spicy mayonnaise over the whole thing.
With a flourish, he sliced through the sandwich, nudging Gabe’s half towards him.
He picked it up, making sure it wouldn’t immediately fall apart—which unsurprisingly, customers really hated—but it stayed firmly together, and he gave silent props to Ren for learning the best way to construct these things.
The first bite was an explosion of flavor on his tongue.
The second, he started to parse out the individual flavors. The sticky savoriness of the meatballs, the shredded basil, the pickled vegetables, the creamy spiciness of the mayo.
“That is really fucking good,” Ren said after he took a third bite and swallowed it.
“Yeah, it is.” Gabriel set down his sandwich before he devoured the entire thing. Lifted his hand to give his cousin a high five. “Great job, dude. It’s delicious.”
“No changes?” Ren said after slapping his hand. “Really?”
“Seriously, it’s perfect,” Gabriel said.
Ren’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not just saying that, are you?”
“Would I?”