Chapter 3 Voss
VOSS
“You okay?” I ask.
Lorissa glares at the sky. “Why are pregnant people so fucking hot all the time?” she mutters.
“Do you want the scientific answer?”
Her glare turns on me, and I smile. No, she doesn’t. I offer her the umbrella in my hand. I also brought one of those handheld spray bottles with a fan. It may mess up her makeup, so I’m a little curious which will win out—appearance or battling the sun.
“Why are they doing this outside in July?” she grumbles.
“They’re not pregnant and sweaty,” I point out.
Lorissa slaps my arm. “I can’t wait until this small human is out of my body,” she grumbles and stomps away.
She’s not actually stomping. Her footsteps are just heavier now. She’s a cute fucking pregnant woman. I love her belly.
There’s a chance I love it because she’s carrying my son, but whatever.
Myro joins me. He watches Lorissa with me as she makes her way into the shade. “She uncomfortable?”
“Very. I think she’s going to declare war on the sun.”
He laughs. Then he inclines his head, and I follow what he’s calling my attention to. Dad. He’s holding Emerson as he talks to Uncle Arath.
“I haven’t seen Jeannette lately,” Myro says. “Have you?”
I shake my head. “Not since before Dad’s birthday.”
“You think we made our point?” he asks.
“I think more than anything, this has made our point.” I seek out the two-thirds triplets, unsurprised to find them with Imry.
“Asking him if he truly thinks marrying someone who’s going to view Avory and Ellory in the same light Mom did might have hit home more than anything else we could have said. ”
“Did it, though? He insisted she’d be fine with it.”
“We all knew that wasn’t going to be the case. Imry telling him that it was kind of selfish to force Ellory and Avory into hiding their relationship again in their own home might have spoken louder than even Jeannette’s acceptance of them.”
“I almost feel guilty that we made him feel guilty all over again,” I say, frowning. “As if we used the one thing we know would hurt him.”
“It’s not about that,” Myro says. “It’s about our brothers who have lived with Mom’s assholery for far too many years. Now that they’re finally free of it, Dad is considering bringing in someone who will probably view them the same way.”
“You don’t think we’re being unfair to her and just assuming that’s how she’ll treat them?”
“Look at them.” I do. “Look how even here, surrounded by the bare minimum of our family—only those they know accept their love—look at how they keep their distance, Voss. Are you telling me you think today would be happening like this if Jeannette were Dad’s wife?”
“I—no. I don’t. But I also feel like we’ve had it in our heads that she’s not good enough for Dad from the beginning, and perhaps we’re being unfair.”
“Dad doesn’t love her.”
“Dad is aromantic,” I point out.
Myro huffs. “Fine. Yes. But he needs better criteria than choosing someone based on how they’re going to look on his arm for the next few years.
This is our family. He’s worked fucking hard to get us where we are, and someone like Jeannette is not going to keep this happiness at the same level it is now. ”
“He deserves to be happy. He wasn’t the only one unhappy with Mom.”
“Fuck, Voss. He wasn’t happy!”
“I’m sorry I have a conscience and am feeling guilty because we ganged up on him on his birthday.” Brek stepping outside with Haze and Jessica catches my attention. “As fun as this conversation is again, I don’t really want to keep arguing about this.”
I leave Myro. He doesn’t try to stop me, though I can feel his frown follow me. I’m not a Jeannette fan. At all. But I definitely feel bad that we accosted Dad under the pretense of spending his birthday with him.
Myro isn’t wrong. Avory and Ellory’s ceremony wouldn’t be happening if Jeannette were here. It’s not like we directed a conversation that discusses twincest in front of her to gauge her reaction. The fact of the matter is, most people have an opinion on relationships that don’t affect them.
And yeah, Avory and Ellory deserve to keep their safe space here above all else.
None of that negates that we ganged up on Dad. I hate that we did that. As a family, we need to get better at communicating. When it’s about business, we’re fucking epic communicators. Personal life? Not so good.
By the time I catch up with Brek, he’s sitting off to the side. Alone. Half in the shade. He has a fan in his hand and is waving it. I drop into the chair beside him. Do I imagine the way his cheeks pinken? It might just be from the sun.
“Hey, you.”
He bows his head at first and then looks at me. “Hey. How are you not hot?”
“I grew up in this.”
“That means you’re not hot? Really?”
“I’m hot, but I’ll live until we can get inside.”
He sighs.
“If you were wearing shorts, you’d be cooler,” I point out.
“I dressed for a wedding.”
“There wasn’t a dress code purposefully.”
“We can’t all pull off dresses.”
I follow his gaze to Uncle Noaz, who is, in fact, rocking a fucking dress. “I don’t know. I think you have the legs for it.”
Brek rolls his eyes. “I’d be far too self-conscious.”
“Same,” I agree. “I don’t have body image issues, but I’d feel on the spot.”
“Probably because no one sees us in dresses. We’re used to seeing Uncle Noaz in a dress,” he points out.
“Probably. I’d like to point out that guys have been wearing dresses far longer. Kilts. Robes.” I wave my hand. “If we don’t call it a dress, it’s far more acceptable.”
“Not in this country. Unless there’s a seam right against your crotch, it’s feminine.”
I snort a laugh. “Fair enough.”
“Places!” Myro calls. It’s the signal for everyone to take their seats for the ceremony.
“Does this bother you?” I ask.
Brek looks at me, his eyebrows knit together in confusion. “What?”
“This love ceremony between my brothers.”
“Oh.” My stomach clenches when he doesn’t answer right away. “I guess I don’t think about it much. There are far more relevant things on my mind most days than what your brothers are doing in their free time.”
I try to contain my smile, though I’m not sure I succeed. My hand grips his thigh for a minute. “Good answer,” I murmur as the small crowd hushes. “Really, really good answer, Brek.”
He’s looking at me. Likely trying to figure out why his response garnered so much praise.
I settle in with one of my stress balls in my hand. Not because I’m stressed, but sitting still is not possible. This one in particular is clear, with little balls under the rubber outer layer. It’s one of my least favorite toys, but it’s silent.
“The world doesn’t have enough love,” Imry says, his tone not particularly loud but not so quiet that it doesn’t carry through the small audience.
“In a time when public opinion is fueled by hate masquerading as love, today we’re celebrating love without boundaries.
Without prejudice. Without judgement. In a well-known verse of love that is often quoted during ceremonies and yet is often added to with gatekeeping, there are a few lines that I want to emphasize: ‘[It] always protects… always perseveres… [Love] never fails.’ This is the love we’ve come to witness today. ”
“Ironic that he’s quoting a Bible verse, no?” Jessica murmurs from behind.
“I think he should have commented on the line of ‘does not rejoice in evil’ since that’s the hypocrisy of those who often tout this quote as an example of true love practice concerning every other person who holds different views or lives different lifestyles,” Uncle Noaz says.
Jalon turns around to level those talking with a silent but stern warning. Uncle Noaz points to Emerson. “He’s just learning to talk. Sorry. He doesn’t stop jabbering.”
I snort, covering my mouth to contain my laughter. Those around me do the same.
“Everyone has examples of couples in their lives who teach them what love is and what it means to truly love another person selflessly and without restraint. My example never came from movies or public figures. It didn’t come from a verse written by man or from the voices of imaginary friends of those who lived hundreds of years ago.
The epitome of what it means to love someone grew right in front of my eyes.
Because of Avory and Ellory, I have the highest expectations of what a loving relationship is supposed to look like. Nothing less will ever be enough.”
Several in the audience turn to look at Haze.
“No pressure,” Jessica murmurs to Haze.
Haze’s eyelids lower, but Imry flashes him a smile.
“Today is a celebration of that love. In front of those who understand the true message behind the verse so widely recited, regardless of where it originates and who said it, we acknowledge and celebrate the love between Avory and Ellory. Through the trials of our past and those we’ll continue to navigate, you will always have each other. ”
He leans forward. “And me.”
Ellory grins.
“Through all of life’s big moments and small, through the ugly and the beautiful, your love will continue to shine like it’s a beacon from Heaven itself. Even if that’s in mockery and covered in the blood of those who would condemn you to Hell for your love.”
Dad sighs, shaking his head slightly. No one misses the way Ellory cackles, though, even as he tries to hold it in.
“Today and every day, we celebrate you. We will always look to you as an example of unconditional, without prejudice, and devoid of boundaries, love.”
“Can I kiss my bride?” Avory asks.
Imry inclines his head. “Kiss away.”
Ellory’s arms wrap around Avory’s neck, and we watch as, maybe for the first time ever, they kiss in front of an audience. It’s not a short peck, though probably far less filthy than it would be with fewer people. It’s the kind of kiss you expect at a wedding between people who are deeply in love.
When they break apart, they pull Imry to them in unison, and we watch the triplets create a little huddle that’s only theirs. Something that’s happened more times than I can remember since they were born. Despite everyone watching, only the three of them exist right now.
“I’ve always wondered what it would be like to have a twin,” Jessica muses.
“It’s a trip to have triplet brothers,” Myro says. “Having three little boys who look identical and never being able to tell them apart.”
I nod in agreement.
“Thankfully, we knew who Imry was most of the time since Avory and Ellory were attached at the hip,” I add. “Then it was just the two-thirds.”
“That’s why you call them that, right?” Jessica asks, turning in her seat to look at me.
“Besides the obvious deduction that they are two-thirds of the triplets, yes. They enjoyed no one being able to tell them apart, and since they were always together, they were practically a single entity anyway.”
“Built-in besties,” Oakley comments, grinning.
“Built-in lots of things,” I say.
“Imry’s right,” Myro says. “I think their love is exactly the kind everyone should be seeking in life. How they treat each other. How they care about each other. How they take care of each other.” He wraps his arm around Jessica’s waist and kisses her temple.
“Anything less is simply not good enough.”
I glance at Dad. I have a feeling that comment was another stab at Jeannette, even if he’s speaking it as truth.
I’m not sure if Dad’s paying attention to our conversation, though.
He’s watching his triplets as they continue to huddle together.
There’s a small smile on his lips. I wonder if he actually does understand that today wouldn’t have happened if Jeannette were his wife.
If she were here. Even if we’re wrong about her judgment concerning Avory and Ellory, I know they wouldn’t feel comfortable with her here. There’s no trust there.
I look at Brek. He’s watching the triplets, too. His expression is inscrutable. I have no idea what he’s thinking. It’s almost as if he’s not really present right now. Maybe he’s just staring off into nothing in their direction.
I grip his hand, and he blinks back into the moment. His eyes drop to where I’ve linked our fingers together. He meets my eyes briefly before looking around. I’m not sure exactly what he’s expecting, as he clearly looks for something.
When the triplets break and the music starts, I stuff the stress ball into my pocket, pull Brek to his feet, and lead him away from the crowd.
I anticipate that it’s the crowd making him a little uncomfortable, so with his hand in mine, I lead him into the garden close by.
The music is still plenty loud right here, and I bring him to my chest, leading us into a dance far slower than the beat of this song dictates.
His cheeks heat. This time there’s no question. I love his flush.
Even alone, he glances around. Maybe expecting someone to jump out from somewhere.
“Does it bother you now?”
The same confusion is back. “Does what bother me?”
I chuckle. “You’re cute when you’re confused.”
He rolls his eyes. “If you began a conversation at the beginning so I knew what you were on about, I wouldn’t always be so damn confused when you ask me something.”
“My brothers.”
“No,” he answers. “You think I’d be here if it did?”
“No,” I agree. “I still like to ask.”
He raises one shoulder, and once again his gaze moves around. Searching for something.
“What are you so distracted by?”
He looks at me again. “I’m not.”
“You are. You haven’t stopped looking around since the end of the ceremony.”
There’s something on his mind. I can tell by the way he studies my eyes. Eventually, he shakes his head again, and I know he’s not going to tell me what’s bothering him.
“You want to go back to the others?” I offer.
“No,” he answers.
I’m pleasantly surprised when he closes the little distance I kept between us, and somewhat awkwardly, rests his chin on my shoulder.
Grinning, we adjust until our position is more natural and comfortable. For a long time, despite the rhythm of the music playing, we dance in the garden surrounded by flowers and the heat of the sun.
Once, he tenses, and I can feel him almost pull away. It passes after a minute, and he relaxes into me again. I nearly ask what happened, but I don’t want to push. When he’s ready, he’ll tell me what’s on his mind.
For now, I need to practice patience.