Chapter Twenty-two
Bridges
February
Winter in New York could be a really fickle bitch.
It was the end of February, and for unknown reasons, Mother Nature decided it should be eight degrees on Valentine’s Day when I took Weston out for dinner to a fancy French restaurant in Chelsea and we had to wait outside for a rideshare car after we ate. We froze our asses off.
Then, the next week when that stupid groundhog was set to see his shadow or not, she turned up the thermostat to the mid-seventies. I hauled West’s stationary recumbent bike outside so he could ride behind the shop in the warm sunshine. It did wonders for his mood because he’d been down of late.
Weston had been fired from his courier job a week after he started physical therapy, and it pissed me off.
Don’t pay him if he can’t work, but don’t fucking kick a guy while he’s down and fire him.
I’d almost tried to buy the fucking company and give it to him to run—after he fired that Andi chick, who obviously had no fucking soul.
I ran the idea by Alexis, who asked if I could be any pettier.
I said, “Yeah, I could fire you for the spicy attitude.” She laughed, flipped me off, and then went home after lunch to make a nice dinner for Stephanie because she’d worked a double shift at the hospital on Valentine’s Day. Sadly, Alexis’s comment made sense.
I’d turned over the administrative tasks to West so he had something to do to lighten his mood.
Additionally, he could take care of the boring details without straining his healing shoulder.
The guy was whip smart and was able to negotiate a new contract with our hauler that saved us thirty percent on shipping our bikes around the world. I was elated.
“Bridges?”
I glanced over my shoulder to see Weston standing in the doorway of the shop. We’d created office space for him in the room where we housed inventory because sometimes he had to make calls and I wasn’t always quiet when I was working on something. I turned the music up loud.
“Yeah, babe. What can I help you with?”
He walked over to the drafting table where I was working out changes I wanted to make to the bike he’d be using for the road trip. We were planning to leave on Saturday, May 1, having decided to take the shorter, northern route, despite still having to tackle the Rocky Mountains.
Kian and Eric Batterman were meeting us in San Francisco for the presentation of the funds collected from West’s sponsors to the Director of Rainbow Equality Alliance at a small ceremony that would be broadcast on YouTube.
The donation West wanted to make to the Rainbow Equality Alliance would be done privately, without fanfare or publicity.
It was West’s choice, and I respected the hell out of it.
With the new bike I was building, Weston would be able to tackle the mountains more easily.
We’d mapped the route to be around three-thousand miles, but we’d agreed to avoid bike trails where I couldn’t follow him in the RV.
I couldn’t ask Alexis and Steph to come with us on the trip because it was a long time for them to be away from their lives, so West was going to ride on the roadway with me driving my SUV as his support and gear vehicle.
We’d built in extra days to the schedule to allow him to do interviews along the way and stop at LGBTQIA centers across the country to bring publicity to the organizations, including the ten sponsors he’d managed to sign.
Proud wasn’t a big enough word for how I felt about all his progress. I believed his family had underestimated him for years. I’d never do that.
West leaned against the wall next to my drafting board. “I think it’s time for me to take the temperature of the Board of Directors of Aames Investments. As the executor, do you know if they’ve filled my dad’s seat yet?”
Now, this was tough for me because I hadn’t told him I’d be the fifth vote on the Board of Directors when it came time for the Board to decide if West had fulfilled the requirements of Claude’s will.
I was lucky to get to witness all the hard work West was doing, and obviously, I’d vote for him.
I hoped it didn’t come to a tie—hell, I wasn’t sure how my father would vote. Maybe I should feel him out first?
“I haven’t been told anything by Edmond, one way or the other.
Maybe you should consider how they feel about you now could be far different than how they feel about you in July after the ride.
I’d say make a film to document some of the things you’ve been doing and maybe send it to Edmond to show at the next board meeting. ”
West nodded. “Good idea. I need to call the owner of Fairytails in Andersonville, one of the neighborhoods in Chicago, to tell him what day we can be there for the bachelor auction they’re planning.
“The guys who own it are a triad, and one’s a former football player for the Chicago Breeze.
The man running the place is Kincaid Hayes.
He’s really nice and was very excited when I reached out to him about an opportunity for an interview about what they do in Andersonville to support the community.
He sounds like a really nice guy. The third partner is a stay-at-home dad raising their twins who are just starting school Kincaid said.
I can’t wait to meet them.” His bright smile had me grinning as well.
“They sound great, sweetheart. I’m looking forward to meeting them as well. So, what are you doing now?” I glanced at the clock to see it was nearly time to call it a day.
“I just finished balancing the books for January. I emailed them to you for approval.”
“Okay, let’s call it a day.” I stood from my chair and put my arm around Weston’s shoulders, leading him from the shop and up the stairs to our home.
“What would you like for dinner?” I asked as I let us inside.
West looked at me with a grin. “How about peanut butter and jelly sandwiches? Maybe some potato chips? Something simple?”
“Sure, baby boy. Peanut butter, it is. Do you need to call Kincaid Hayes? I’ll fix us dinner if you want to do that now.”
Chicago was an hour behind us in time, so it was only four in the afternoon for Mr. Hayes. If the club was like anything in New York, they hadn’t opened yet, so maybe he and West could iron out the details before they opened the doors.
I had committed the itinerary for the trip to memory, including the meet ups with people in the community that were very important to Weston. I wanted to support the guy as he handled every aspect of the trip on his own, though I did help get Kian and Eric Batterman on board in the beginning.
After that, I ducked out of the planning because West’s proactive stance would support his leadership skills as he positioned himself to lead Aames Investments. It was exactly what Weston needed to document so the others could see just how great he would be in the job.
“Thank you, Bridges.” He kissed my cheek before going downstairs to his office to call Kincaid Hayes, and I took the opportunity to text my father.
Hi, Dad. Can we have lunch tomorrow? I have some questions for you.
I didn’t expect to hear from my father until the next morning, but he surprised me by replying right away.
What kind of questions do you have? I’d like to be prepared to answer honestly.
Honestly? I had to wonder if my father ever answered anything honestly because he was the master of double-speak that predicated total confusion.
Maybe the fact that he and my mother didn’t approve of my sexuality, or as they called it, “my preferences,” had tainted my vision of them? Who was to say?
A few years after coming out, they said they accepted me, but it didn’t ring true to my ears.
They had been trying to keep their friends from finding out I was gay by not hosting parties at our house any longer, and I picked up on it immediately.
Something out of the norm in their lives would put them in a different light with their friends, and Mom and Dad wanted to be anything but different.
And if they acknowledged that I was different, then they would be painted with my brush, and that wasn’t desirable.
Mom’s willingness to invite the Harmons and the Haynes’ showed me she was capable of change. Dad, however, was a different story. His attitude had always been that my sexuality was a product of their parenting. At forty-five, it was laughable. When I came out as a young guy, it was painful.
I made the two of us peanut butter and jelly sandwiches as he’d requested. I opened a bag of chips and poured them into a bowl before putting them on the table. When I heard West coming up the steps, I grinned as I sat and waited for him.
When West entered the room, he grinned. “Hayes wants me to be a bachelor in their auction.”
I, of course, immediately locked up. “He wants you to what?”
Weston smirked. “He wants to auction me off to raise money for their local rainbow community center. I said I'd talk to my partner about it and we’d decide together."
I chuckled. “Can I buy you? I mean, can I donate to keep anyone else from buying my boyfriend’s time?”
The surprised look on Weston’s face brought a grin from me. “You’re okay saying we’re boyfriends to other people? I didn’t know how you’d feel about telling other people that we’re boyfriends.”
I chuckled. “If that’s the word you want to use, I’m fine with it, and I’ll shout it from the rooftop. I’m also fine with any other word you want to use to describe our relationship. Honey, what did you think we were working toward?”
West washed and dried his hands before sitting across from me at the table staring into my eyes.
“Sometimes I can’t believe you want us to make a life together.
It seems unreal to me that someone so put together would want to take on a hot mess like me.
I’ll ask them to rig the auction so you can buy me. ”