Chapter Twenty-Six
Of fuckin’ course Evan is right outside the goddamn bathroom door when I step out. That’s just my luck, isn’t it? I can feel my cheeks getting ruddy, just like they always did when I was younger, sneaking some of Ma’s freshly baked cookies before they had a chance to hit the jar.
“You alright?” he asks, his brows furrowed. “You look sick.”
“Yeah,” I quickly reply, then attempt to change the subject. “You clean the boat?”
He rolls his eyes. “Yes, I cleaned the fuckin’ boat. I’ve cleaned every time I’ve borrowed it, since that first night.”
I nod, making my way over to the buffet and filling up a couple plates—one for my girls to split and a little one for myself.
Knowing Tati and Terra, they’ll eat just a little nibble of everything and leave the rest, so there’s no point in piling my own plate too high.
I manage to keep Evan distracted enough at the buffet until I see Gordy out of the corner of my eye, grabbing a plate for himself.
My brother then takes his plates back over to the table, and I sigh in relief. If he suspected anything, he definitely wouldn’t have hesitated to bring it up right now—gathering or no gathering. The man has zero qualms about calling people out on their bullshit right in the moment.
“Well, Caleb just fuckin’ busted me coming out of the bathroom after you. Ran his mouth straight to Marcus…” Gordy grumbles.
“How do you know that?” My brows pinch in confusion. “Caleb can’t really—”
“Run his mouth,” he grunts, finishing my thought. “Yeah, I know. He speaks with his hands. So, the thing is, I know sign language.”
My head tilts. “You do?”
Gordy nods. “My mom was a CODA—a child of a deaf adult. My grandfather was deaf. She grew up speaking sign before she learned English, actually. Came in handy when Marlin demanded silence in the house. We communicated a lot that way.”
Guilt niggles within me. Gordy loved his mother tremendously, that much is obvious. There’s little I know about Gordana, however, but I always tread lightly on the topic of her, because I don’t know how tough of a topic it is for Gordy to open up about. He’s already trusted me with so much…
“It’s okay to ask about her, you know,” Gordy murmurs, apparently having read my mind. “I, um, I like talking about her. She was the only light in my otherwise dark childhood.”
I fight the overwhelming urge to reach out and cup his cheek. Instead, I offer him a soft smile. “Tell me about her tonight?” I ask, needing more subtle assurance that there will be an us at the end of the day.
“Okay,” he agrees. “Tonight.”
I puff out a relieved sigh. The relief I feel is short-lived, however, when I take a seat at the table. Evan and Brooks both level me with narrowed-eyed looks. Then, in unison, their gazes flit to Gordy as he sits next to me.
Gordy scowls at them. “What?”
“You both were using the bathroom at the same time?” Evan notes.
“Yeah, I mean, there’s more than one urinal in there. Stalls too, because this place is bougie like that,” Gordy rebuts sarcastically. More than anything, I want to reach out and unfurl the fist he’s got balled on his thigh.
Brooks chides my brother, “Ev, babe, not right here.”
“Why not right here? If all they were doing was hanging out shittin’ together, I guess they’ve got nothing to hide, right?”
“That’s a bad word, Uncle Evan,” Tati scolds.
“Tati an’ I use da baffroom togeder all da time at school,” Terra chimes in.
“If the government has its way, I won’t be able to share the same bathroom as my baby daddy soon, which is total BS, if you ask me,” Colton pipes up, unhelpfully. I know he’s trying to create a diversion by sparking a political debate here, but—it’s not really landing.
“I highly doubt they were just innocently taking a leak in tandem,” Evan hisses.
Morgan bites her lip. I don’t have to have a solid grasp on ASL to know that Caleb just signed something like, “oh, shit” to Marcus. Ma reaches for my hand, squeezing it under the table.
“Evan,” Dad says in that no-nonsense tone of his. “There are children at the table, and this is not the time nor is it the place to start picking fights with your brother. You’re grown ups. Act like it.”
I shrink in my chair upon the glare Evan shoots at me.
“Uh-oh,” Tally chirps. “Papa mad.”
“No,” Brooks says, addressing their daughter.
“Papa is just a little confused right now. As is Daddy. No one is mad. Right, Evan?” He peers up at his husband.
“Because there’s absolutely no reason to be mad.
I didn’t mention my discovery to you to cause trouble here; I only said it because I was confused. ”
“Sure.” My brother clears his throat, seeming to think better of having this outburst now that his husband has reined him in. Thank god his hubby is a shrink.
“Well, uh, the food sure does look great,” I stammer, trying to dispel some of the awkwardness. “Better than anything I could have created.”
“Dat’s ‘cuz you burn everything, Daddy,” Terra huffs, causing the whole table to laugh.
“Is that right?” Ma hums, and I relax a little with the subject change. “It appears he didn’t get his cooking skills from me.”
Tati scowls. “He didn’t burn the last pancakes he made for us and Mr. Gordy!”
Evan’s brows practically merge with his hairline—which is obnoxiously not receding despite the four years he has on me. And… oh, fuck. Here we go again.
Gordy grumbles something under his breath before addressing my brother, “You know what? Fine. Yes, Gannett and I? We’ve been together for a couple of months now—”
“Longer dan dat!” Terra interrupts, and I resist the urge to clap my hand over both my girls’ well-meaning—albeit slightly tattle-taleish—mouths.
Love them to pieces, but dang, throw me a frickin’ bone here.
Evan looks to be all of two-point-five seconds away from launching himself over this table and throttling me.
I suck in a deep breath. “Evan, can we just, I don’t know, maybe go outside or something? I feel like this is perhaps not the setting for a big, ole’ screaming match.”
“I don’t scream,” he rebuts, the coolness in his tone borderline arctic.
Brooks hand shoots over to Evan under the table. “Yeah, well we don’t exactly use our fists either. We shouldn’t anyway.” His gaze flits around the crowded dining area. “This is Taryn’s big day. Let’s not cause a scene here. It’s really not that big of an issue.”
“It’s totally not, Evster,” Morgan agrees.
“You knew about this?” Evan growls.
“Yeah, I mean, Taryn and I both know…”
“Same,” Colton chimes in.
Fuckin’ A! What is with these kids and tattling?!
“Seriously?!” Evan hisses. “I thought we didn’t keep secrets from one another!”
“Watch your tone, son,” Dad pipes up, glowering at Evan.
“It wasn’t his place to say anything. Perhaps no one wanted to say anything to you sooner, because they were worried that you’d react just like this.
Did ya ever think of that? Christ, the temper on you, boy.
You and Gannett go outside and hash out your business like grown men.
Don’t make a mess in the goddamn parkin’ lot, neither.
Girls, come hang out with Gramps for a minute while your dad and uncle go have a chat. ”
Woosah… I can do this. I’ve picked up some sparring skills at the gym, and Gordy’s been my teacher, so we know he’s good.
Brooks sure as hell doesn’t look like he can hold Ev back, so I hope that blowie Gordy gave me has gotten me loose enough to tussle.
I was hoping it wouldn’t have to come to this, but I will bust my brother’s snout if I have to in the name of self-defense.
When Gordy and I stand, Morgan grabs Tally from Brooks, likely so he can tag along as well. Good, I could use a referee here. Tati tugs on the hem of Evan’s shirt on his way by. He scooches down to her level.
“Uncle Evan? Can you please not be mad at Daddy and Mr. Gordy? I think they love each other like Steve and Mumma love each other,” she pleads with him.
“Daddy an’ Mr. Gordy just don’t kiss all da time like Mumma and Steve do,” Terra adds, “but dat doesn’t mean dey don’t love each udder. Mr. Gordy coaches me an’ my friends t-ball, an’ he picks us up from school sometimes so we don’t gotta go to daycare doze days.”
Evan shoots both Gordy and I a look. “Is that so?” he asks my girls.
Tati nods enthusiastically. “And Mr. Gordy helped me add glitter to my tutu for ballet when Mumma wouldn’t let me. Look at my nails, Uncle Evan!” she chirps, uncharacteristically talkative all of a sudden. She holds out her hands so he can inspect the polish job. “Mr. Gordy painted them pink!”
“They’re very pretty,” Evan grumbles.
Brooks nudges his ribs. “They’re exceptional, love. I think Gordy did a very good job.”
“Mhm, yeah,” Tati agrees thoughtfully. “So, um, please don’t be mad at Mr. Gordy. I don’t want him and Daddy to break up.”
Well, I guess I can eat my previous words. God bless these kids and their tattling ways. The ice daggers in Evan’s eyes start to defrost a bit as he nods at my sweet princess before stalking out of the pub, through the back. The three of us—Gordy, Brooks, and I—follow.
The air is thick with more than just humidity as we get outside.
You could cut the tension with a dull enough knife out here, it’s that thick.
Evan’s fingers curl around the hair of his close cropped beard as he paces circles in the employee parking lot.
At least he’s not lunging for my carotids, I guess.
“Someone start talking,” he growls, his eyes flitting between me and Gordy.
“Where do you want me to start?” I sigh. “It was a frigid December day when—”
“Do you always have to deflect with humor, Gan?” Evan cuts me off, rolling his eyes. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ! You know what I mean. Since when are you and he hooking up?!” He gestures at Gordy while aiming his ire at me.