Trapp
The lounge in Bridgeton glittered. Everything about the place shone and gleamed in gold — the low club-style chairs, the pedestal tables topped with smoked black glass, the low railings that separated the seating areas.
It was wildly over the top and excessively expensive, judging from the clientele who laughed from tables as if the tab on their endless bottles of champagne were of no concern.
He’d begun to see the world through her eyes, those last few months.
He knew he was privileged. Knew he was born privileged and had lived a privileged life every day he’d been alive, but knowing that and seeing it from a different vantage point were two very different things.
Living in Cambric Creek sometimes kept him from having to consider that other worldview, but being in a relationship with someone who’d never had any of the above was eye-opening.
He tightened his grip on her, already knowing she was going to be intimidated. Glancing down, he saw that her eyes were wide, but she squeezed his hand in return in silent acknowledgment.
Too rich for our blood. I’m happy at the Man-o-War.
They sat close to the bar, at one of the low tables, surrounded by a golden railing. Vanessa was perched on the side of Grayson’s chair, her purse lying abandoned on her own, whispering in his ear, her face brightening immediately when she saw them, waving.
If Adriana didn’t like Gray and Vanessa, she hid it well. She leaned in for a half hug and an air kiss from the future Mrs. Hemming before taking her seat beside Trapp and quickly finding his hand.
“This place is ridiculous.”
Grayson laughed, agreeing as he drained his glass. “It’s a King Midas bukkake fever dream. I give them six months.”
“This place changes owners at least every ten months,” Vanessa put in. “We like to make sure we come to every new business and get one of their glasses. I’ve got a whole little collection. It’s like a restaurant industry graveyard.”
“We have something very important to discuss with the two of you,” Gray started, and Vanessa slid back into place on the side of his chair, his arms snaking around her waist.
She nodded emphatically. “Very important.”
Trapp's brow furrowed. “Wedding related? And we had to discuss it in this Las Vegas showroom?”
“Speaking of Vegas, do you ever follow the World Series of Poker? You need to start. I’m convinced we’re going to find Dad randomly in the listings.”
At that image, Trapp barked out a laugh.
“Just sitting in the corner with his aviators on, utterly destroying these twenty-five-year-old podcast suckers. Yeah, you’re probably right.
He’s so bored now that Jackson is in office.
And with Liam gone? You’d better be careful.
He’s going to start planning your campaign any minute now. ”
“Are-are you running for office?” Adriana’s voice was hesitant. She still tiptoed around conversations, especially with the domineering duo, but Trapp hoped it was getting easier for her.
“Eventually, but I’m a few years off from that. I had court today, which is why we are in the Bouillon Room, to answer your question.”
“Did you win? Are we celebrating?”
Grayson rolled his eyes, signaling to a server.
“I don’t win anymore, Trapp. I go around in circles chasing the same fucking issue over and over again, in front of the same judges, with all the same fucking talking points.
As long as we’re not dismissed outright, I have to call that career satisfaction. Anyway.”
They paused when the server arrived, taking their drink orders.
Adriana leaned close until he bent to her lips. “Do I look okay? This place is fancier than I was expecting. I feel like I should be showing more tit.”
Trapp grinned, teeth nipping at her neck. “You know I am never going to say no to that. But you look beautiful.”
She nodded, tugging on the hem of her black dress after accepting his kiss.
“Trapp, we have a real problem. I don’t know if you realize that.”
He straightened up, brow furrowing, waiting for Vanessa to continue.
“We need to know what’s going on with the two of you,” Grayson continued, sitting back, wrinkling his nose, as if Trapp and Adriana had presented themselves for inspection and were coming up lacking. “Every day, we are losing ground. You see that, don’t you? It is a perilous place to be.”
“What the fuck are the two of you going on about? Are you going to say something that makes sense at any point tonight?”
“You two need to make your relationship very official, real fucking fast. We are outnumbered, Trapp. Jackson and Owen have supplanted us. With Mom. With Dad. Everywhere. They are completely enmeshed at City Hall now; that’s their domain.
Dad doesn’t even have the same pull. Jackson wears the baby in every day like a backpack and the whole building thinks he’s Superdad.
That leaves the field wide open for Owen to pull his Owen bullshit. Open your eyes.”
He began to laugh, stopping when he realized his brother was serious, and then laughed harder. “Gray, you realize that’s fucking insane, right?”
Vanessa was shaking her head. “It’s not, Trapp. He’s right!” She and Grayson shared a fast look. “We think Owen and Tabitha are already married. If she comes to Christmas dinner and announces she’s pregnant, it’s done.”
Trapp leaned in, eyes narrowing. Now they had his attention.
“Wait, Owen, your brother? And his girlfriend? Why do you think that?”
Trapp slapped an open palm down on the table, making Adriana jump. “Motherfucker, you’re right," he choked out. "Dad told Lowell that Owen bought a ring, and that was like two years ago. That sneaky fuck!”
Grayson sat back, raising his hands. “I’m glad you’re caught up.”
“But why?” Adriana cut in. She had also leaned into the conversation, as if she were too interested in the Hemming Family telenovela to miss the next scene.
“Because that’s Owen’s MO. He’s a sneaky bastard; always has been. Like, since he and Lowell were kids. I cannot believe I am still getting grief for eloping.”
“Exactly.” Vanessa leaned in, finger going down on the glass-top table, a prosecutor going in for the kill.
“And because you have already established the precedent within the family, it’s not going to be received as harshly.
But because he’s seen how your parents reacted to you not telling anyone, he knows better.
They’re keeping it under the radar until they can come to the negotiating table with a stronger position. ”
“What’s that?” Adriana asked, her beautiful eclipse eyes like saucers.
“They’re waiting until she’s pregnant. I am telling you, Trapp. They learned from your mistakes.”
Trapp sat back, allowing the server to put fresh drinks on the table, twinkling up at her. He hadn’t forgotten how to be Trapp Hemming, after all. He still knew his lines. He just delivered them more sparingly these days.
That week he had made breaded veal with linguine at the firehouse on his night to cook. Adriana had made a freezer full of cheese-stuffed arancini a few nights earlier, to prove he wasn’t the only were in the relationship who knew their way around the kitchen, packing a tray for the firehouse.
His station mates had practically cheered.
The next day, they responded to a call at the community center — one of the seniors had fallen during class. Marva had been there, stapling up a flyer for the fall festival. “Trapp, I don’t suppose we could get your help hauling tables for this?”
He had given her one of his professional Trapp Hemming smiles, the one he reserved for the community center, for the elementary school, and the ice cream social.
“I think we’ve got something going on that weekend, Marva.
Sorry. But do you still need help with this?
” He tapped the flyer a bit higher on the wall, the children’s carnival being set up in the library parking lot as a fundraiser for the play center.
“Oh, why, yes!”
He could have sworn the goblin shivered under the blinding light of his smile. “Perfect. Sign me up. I’ll be there.”
He had walked out of the community center whistling. Trapp Hemming, work in progress. It was the best he could do.
“Okay, wait a minute.” Trapp held his temples, shaking off his brother’s insane paranoia. “I don’t have to care about this. I don’t aspire to be dad’s favorite. That’s your game. I’m secure with mom.”
At that, Adriana almost choked, her face going red, recovering after a moment and hiding her laughter in the crook of her arm.
“And how long do you think that’s going to last?” Grayson asked far too seriously for the subject matter. “How long do you think you’ll be the favorite? You’re a single forty-year-old man with no kids. You’re a step away from eating Thanksgiving dinner at the diner, Trapp.”
Adriana was wheezing.
“Okay, now I know you two have been leaving your tightening clay masks on too long. Owen will never supplant me as Mom’s favorite.”
Grayson leaned in with a terrifying smile, Vanessa right there beside him. “You can’t compete with grandkids, Trapp. Have you seen Cecily? That kid is fucking adorable. And she’s a girl, so,” Grayson made another gesture as if his meaning was obvious.
“Not to mention,” Vanessa added, “we think it’s really shitty they used Cecily. That’s our name.”
“Are you having a baby?” Adriana gasped, excitement coloring her words, ready to offer her congratulations. “And they stole your name?!”
Vanessa wrinkled her nose. “Ew, no. But yes, they did steal our name!”
Trapp shook his head, pinching his nose. They were ridiculous. “If you’re not planning on having kids, which I know you’re not—”
“That’s a Grayson family name, Trapp!” Vanessa shot back, her long nail tapping on the glass table again. “And you know it. Why didn’t they take one of the Jackson family names, hmm? Where’s little Miranda?”
“I see what’s going on here. Did you go to the heritage museum, or something? Did Tris send you his project? You’re buying into the Henry hype. I’ve got terrible news for you, Nessa. You might be marrying a Grayson Henry Hemming, but you are not getting a Henry out of this deal.”
“I don’t know what that means,” Adriana poked him.
“Let’s cut the bullshit,” Grayson interrupted.
“The two of you need to have a kid. That’s the bottom line.
I guarantee you Owen and Tabitha are going to have a big announcement in the next few months, and ‘Oh, hey, by the fucking way, we got married a year ago.’ We can’t let the two of them gain that much ground. ”
“This is like teams, then,” Adriana put in, finally understanding the level of ridiculousness that encapsulated his family. “Is that what this is? You’re on two different teams? You and your brothers? What about the one who stole all my suckers? Which team is he on?”
“Oh, Lowell belongs to us.”
“Yeah, why can’t Lowell and Moriah take one for the team? Why is this falling on our shoulders? I’m a firefighter. I’m a hero. You have high blood pressure from two decades of cocaine and a sixty-two year-old mistress. You don’t get to shoot orders at anyone.”
“Trapp.” Grayson dragged his hands down his face, rubbing his temples, as if Trapp were the one too foolish for comprehension.
“Be serious. A Lowell baby will only count for half points. First, it has a fifty percent chance of being a clown. Second, it will live on the other side of the fucking world. How is Mom going to hold that?”
“I hate to say that this is all on the two of you,” Vanessa went on. “But it’s all on the two of you. Until Gray is ready to run, you have to pick up the slack. We need a kid. Expeditiously.”
“Do we win something?” Adriana demanded, her competitive streak flaring to life. “What does the winning team get?”
“Do we at least get a Grayson family name? There’s no Trapp in the history books; I’m one of a kind.”
Grayson raised his hand magnanimously. “You can have any name you want.”
“That’s real fucking generous of you, thank you so much. I sure hope you’re picking up the tab tonight. You know, the two of you are going to have the happiest marriage in history, because you’re marrying yourselves.” He turned to Adriana. “What did I tell you? You fit right in with this bunch.”
“I mean, we did say we were both okay with the idea of having kids,” Adriana pointed out. “Can we win something good? I’m okay if it’s just influence.”
“Yeah, she’s great. I like her. Best thing you’ve ever done in a lifetime of terrible decisions.
You’ve got a fitting at the tailor this week.
Do not be late. Do not sleep through it.
I will punch you again, Trapp. And make sure you accept the calendar invite that went out today and clear your fucking schedule.
I’m tired of hearing you cry that you can’t make it to something for the wedding because you were too busy judging Gorsha-Jean’s peach pie recipe for the county fair.
” Grayson turned to Adriana. “If I come into your germ-covered clinic, can you give me an occipital nerve block? If you say yes, we will be unstoppable. You’ll just have to drag him along. ”
You’re surrounded by schemers. This is your life, one scheme after the next.
Hours later, back in his bed, Adriana stretched across him, sweat cooling on their skin, and propped her head up.
“I didn’t understand half of what they were saying, but I am obsessed with learning. I've never been in a family with lore. Also, your family kind of makes me feel better about being poor.”
Trapp laughed, stroking her back. “Yeah, we all need therapy. Like, real bad. It is not a good idea to have a kid for a competition with my brothers. Learn from me. It is not worth it. Jackson and Grayson have been in a death match since infancy, and despite his outward performance, Jackson is just as bad. It’s never going to end.
They just keep upping the ante. Gray is probably right, though, about Owen, that sneaky fuck.
Doing what I did and not getting in trouble for it. Fucking typical."
Adriana hummed. “Well, I don’t think we need to have a baby tomorrow. I’m just saying, we did say we were open to the idea. If we could win a contest in the process . . .”
She got up to brush her teeth, and Trapp picked up his phone, ensuring his alarm was set for the next morning. The calendar invite from Gray was there in the corner.
Groomsmen anal sunning appointment - NON-NEGOTIABLE -Trapp’s idea
Trapp closed his eyes, smiling in the darkness. He hadn’t lost his person at all. He’d found her again and learned an important lesson.
It turned out he had a type of favorite person, and he was surrounded by them.