Chapter Twenty-Seven
Gannett squeezes my hand while everyone is all sitting around in a post-cake haze, chatting and carrying on as if my whole world wasn’t rocked a couple of hours ago.
“You okay?” he checks in with me. “You know, we could probably leave anytime now. I doubt T-dawg would be offended. You’ve done more than his other parent, just by showing up here today. ”
“Not offended at all,” Taryn agrees, startling me from behind. He grips my shoulder. “Dad, you don’t have to stay if you’re overwhelmed. I get it.”
“I’m staying, Taryn,” I tell him. “I’m okay.
” Feeling a little emotionally wrung out?
Sure, but I can’t see ducking out early.
Not while everyone else is here, all in support of my boy.
For years, it was just me and him, so to say that I’m still in awe of how all Gannett’s family—and then some—have shown up for him today? Well, that’s a huge understatement.
“Mom did text me to let me know she’d be by, just—I dunno, later, I guess.” I hate the way his stature sags with defeat.
“No, hey. Don’t do that,” Gannett says, rising from his chair and placing his hands on Taryn’s shoulders, nudging his posture upright again.
“If she can’t be here for you on your big day, bud, that’s a her problem.
Your dad and I? Hell, everyone here is so super proud of you.
Man, do you know how epic it is that you haven’t even turned twenty yet and you already own and run your own business? ”
“Yeah, dude,” Colton chips in. “Don’t sell yourself short just ‘cuz your mom couldn’t be bothered to show up. You’ve got all of us here for you. I personally think it’s pretty friggin’ rad you own this place now. I promise I won’t do anything to the dumpsters,” he jokes with a wink.
“You did a really good job with the Pride cake,” Petro adds, stroking his little bump. “Baby and I both agree.”
Terra stops listening to Tati, who is trying to teach her how to braid Tally’s hair. She approaches Taryn and hugs him. “Sorry your mumma’s a jerk. She sounds dumb,” she supplies with her no-nonsense attitude.
Vickie gasps, scowling at Gannett—likely for not readily threatening to wash his daughter’s mouth out with soap.
But he doesn’t. No, instead he shrugs with a cocky smirk. “She’s not wrong.”
“Daddy says life is about balance a lot,” Tati notes, not looking up from her continued braiding.
“What do you mean by that, sweetie?” Vickie asks, her brows just as pinched as everyone else’s.
Tati looks up, then around at everyone in the room, finally landing on Taryn. She shrugs. “Your mom isn’t here, but you got two sisters instead,” she says matter-of-factly. “If my daddy and your daddy love each other, that makes us family too, right?”
The corner of Taryn’s frown tips upward. “I guess so,” he notes, albeit a little bewildered.
Tati finishes off her braid and she rounds the table to stand in front of my son. She tugs his hand, encouraging him to scooch down to her level. “We’re here,” she simply states, launching into him for a hug.
He scoops her up, and she wraps herself around him, clinging to him like a koala. Tears well in his eyes. “Thank you,” he murmurs, squeezing her.
“Oh my goooood,” Morgan huffs, fanning her face. “Why did I not think I needed waterproof mascara?!”
“Girl, same,” Colton agrees with a little laugh, which in turn gets the whole table chuckling. “Noodles and I are going to have matching eye makeup here shortly.”
Suddenly, the bell over the door tinkles, alerting us of a newcomer. Sarah looks wide-eyed at the sight of us as she steps in, her and Steve hand-in-hand. “Are we—too early? I can come back and pick up the girls later, if you need more time for, uh, you know…”
Taryn sets Tati down so she can go run to her mother, just like Terra.
Gannett looks down at his phone, checking the time. “No, you’re right on schedule,” he notes. “Do, uh, you and Steve want to grab some brunch before you take off with the girls?”
“Yeah, Mumma!” Terra exclaims. “Our brother, Taryn, maded really good French Toast.”
Sarah’s brows zip together. “Your brother?”
“Yeah,” Tati chirps. “Mr. Gordy’s son.”
Sarah shoots a look at me. “We didn’t—she came up with that all on her own…” I start to protest.
“It’s fine. It was just—unexpected. That’s all,” she says, popping a shoulder.
Steve grins, squeezing her hand. “We’d love to try some of this really good French Toast, Terra. Why don’t you show me and your mom where we can find it?” Tati and Terra both bound off to show them the buffet line.
“You invited them to stay?” I ask Gannett, quirking an eyebrow up at him.
Gannett shrugs. “From what Steve tells me, they’ve worked their shit out.
She wasn’t so much jealous of us as she was that you’re getting the attention she craved but never got when we were together.
When he reminded her that she’s now getting an equal partnership with him, she softened.
He wants to show her that we can co-parent like civil adults, which honestly? I can respect that.”
“Impressive, little bro,” Evan notes, amused.
“I know, right?” Gannett snorts, pretending to brush off his shoulders. “It’s all a part of the Moving Forward with Maturity? plan.”
Wagner scoffs. “The what?”
Gannett looks like he’s about to launch into a whole spiel, but is stopped when the bell tinkles again.
“Sorry I’m late!” Trista-Lynn huffs as soon as she’s inside, her voice distinctly lacking a true apologeticness.
I spin in my seat to find her entering, looking all done up as if she had all the time in the world to get here but she just didn’t care to.
Hair extensions, false lashes, long, gaudy fingernails—the works. All of it fake, fake, fake.
“Who is that?” Brooks asks.
“Taryn’s mother,” I grumble.
“Congratulations, my baby boy!” Trista coos dramatically. “Momma is so proud of you!”
Given the look on his face, even he isn’t buying the bullshit she’s selling here. “Thanks for coming, Mom,” he says flatly, giving her a weak pat on the back.
“Oh, of course!” she drawls, sickly sweet. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Hey, y’all!” She beams, posing as if she’s on a parade float.
The whole table gives her a little wave back.
“Oh, hey there, Gordy…” she says, a hint of snideness lacing her tone.
“Nice of you to finally show up,” I grunt.
“Nice to see you’ve finally moved on,” she snarks, tilting her head at the sight of mine and Gannett’s joined hands. Then she laughs, but it carries no mirth. “That’s got to be awkward though.”
“Mom, why are you causing a scene?” Taryn mutters. Sensing Taryn’s hackles getting raised, Morgan dashes over to try to diffuse the situation. Better her than me. With my emotions on a roller-coaster today, the end result of me confronting Trista would probably end up causing an even bigger scene.
“Am I, though?” Trista asks, batting her long, false lashes, feigning innocence.
“You are,” Evan agrees, to my utter shock. “There some sort of issue with my brother and your ex being together?”
“Oh, gosh no.” Trista shakes her head. “It’s just—Gannett. Really?”
The way she just sneered when she got to his name—the very tone she took, insinuating that I could somehow do better than Gannett—I start to simmer with rage.
There is no one better for me than Gannett.
He loves me completely and unapologetically.
Trista—well, to think she even has the capacity to love, that’s a fuckin’ joke.
I’m about to rise out of my chair and give her a piece of my mind, but Taryn stops me with his hand out.
“Mom, I think you should probably go,” Taryn snaps.
“In fact, I’m not really sure why you even bothered to come.
The way you just spoke to the man who has been here for me more than you have?
That's unacceptable. Do you even care that since Dad has been with Gannett he has been the happiest I have ever seen him? Furthermore, in the past few months, Gannett has had my back more times than I can count. So, you know what? I want you to leave.”
“You–you can’t kick me out!” Trista protests.
“I can though. I own the place, remember?” Taryn snarls. “Come back when you learn how to be a nicer person.”
Trista huffs, probably leaving an indent in the hardwood floor with the fuckin’ spike on her high heel.
Sarah snorts, her plate of food still in hand from where she’s been witnessing this whole commotion from over at the buffet.
“Wow. Real mature, Trista. My girls are six and don’t throw a tantrum quite like you do, so bravo.
You know, from what I can tell, I’d say Gordy has done real well for himself by being with Gannett,” she taunts, crinkling her nose.
“This isn’t high school anymore; stop causing drama.
This is a momentous occasion for your son.
Act like an adult, and quit making things all about yourself, for once. ”
In a furious tizzy, Trista spins on those spikes and marches out of the pub.
Steve pulls out the empty chair to my left, and Sarah sits in it. “Well then,” she hums at me, suppressing a giggle. “She’s in rare form today, huh? You, my friend, deserve some sort of award for having to deal with her for as long as you did.”
I nod, then my brows pinch. “Are we—did we just—”
“Agree on something?” she finishes my thought. “Yes, Gordy. We most certainly did. Listen, I probably acted a little cold with you back on Easter…”
“Probably?” Gannett’s eyebrows shoot up. “And how about at Terra’s t-ball game?”
She rolls her eyes at him. “Yes, I will admit there was some animosity there too. That was wrong of me. My hurt feelings were misplaced, and I—I, well I think you and Gannett make a good team together. The way our girls regard you, well, it was unexpected, and I didn’t know how to process that at the time. I’m sorry.”
Steve winks at Gannett.
“Apology accepted,” I tell Sarah. “Thank you.”
“I should be thanking you,” she replies. “For everything you’ve done with Terra and Tatiana. They adore you, Gordy. And I would love to extend an open invite to any of our family game nights.”
“I appreciate that.”
“That’s cute,” Evan says, snickering. “You have family game nights? Does Gan still cry like a little bitch when he gets his ass handed to him in Uno?”
“Evan!” Vickie chastises. “Don’t pick on your brother!”
Steve chuckles, picking imaginary lint off his sweater vest. “Actually, yes, there were many tears. Never seen a man sob quite so much when I hit him with the ol’ Draw Four.”
“Steven!” Gannett cries out. “That was only for the people at that table to know about!”
“Evan,” I butt in, “remind me again. Was it not you who lost himself during a game of hide-and-seek back at Explorer Camp? Wasn’t it you who was cry—”
“No! No, it was not!” Evan balks defensively. “Gordy! I swear to—”
Brooks cackles, cutting him off. “Let him tell the story, I want to hear about what happened to little, lost Evan. Clearly, you made it out alive.”
“I wasn’t crying about that; I got stung by a bee!”
Gannett chuckles. “Sure, sure. Go with the whole bee thing. It’s alllways the damn bees, isn’t it?”
“It’s not the bees,” Colton supplies. “Dad’s a crier. It’s okay, Dad. Doesn’t make you any less of a man to cry sometimes.”
“Hell no, it doesn’t,” Wagner chimes in. “You ever watch Old Yeller?”
“Practically need to have a mop and bucket ready whenever that movie comes on,” Vickie notes.
“Hey, Taryn,” Colton calls out, standing from his seat. “Why don’t you let Morgan and I refill the buffet, man? Come sit. Eat with everyone. You’ve been busting your ass all morning. Time for a break, buddy.”
Taryn grins. “You mean that?” Morgan passes him a bowl of fruit salad and nudges him towards the table.
Colton nods, ushering Taryn into the seat he just abandoned. “I mean it. You’ve had a hell of an opening day. Come enjoy the fruits—har har—of your labor! Get it?”
Taryn quirks an eyebrow up at him. “Dad jokes already, huh?”
“You know it,” Colton notes with a bemused smirk.
As everyone around the table continues chatting, Gannett squeezes my hand again. “I love you,” he reminds me in a whisper, a smile on his lips. “I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty damned happy with how today turned out.”
“Turned out pretty good,” I agree, nodding. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being you. For being my lighthouse. For giving me a family that I in no way deserve, but got nonetheless. Taryn too.”
He offers me a soft smile before tugging my face to his by my beard and kissing me. “You deserve every bit of this and more, Croot. Same goes for T-dawg.”