Cast Off (25 page)

The strain of having to endure all those whispers and stares and not know if it was due to people not realizing Ian was gay or due to that fucking story about his mother would be untenable.

He probably owed Ian attendance as his date. God knew, Ian had put up with tons of Rick’s shit and all he’d really asked for was to be able to tell his family the truth. For whatever maggoty reason, Ian wanted everyone to know about them. But Rick couldn’t handle it. Not yet.

“I can’t do it.”

Looking up from putting the finishing touches on his tie, Ian met his gaze in the mirror.

“Can’t do what?”

“I can’t go to the wedding.”

Ian’s face sagged in shock and he turned around. “Of course you can. You said you’d come.”

“Ian, it’s just too much all at once. You know I don’t do the family thing. This is a lot of family and a lot of pressure.”

“They’re going to love you. It will be fine. We’re just going as friends.”

“Please. How can it be fine? They’re all going to assume we’re fucking and by Saturday, they’re all going to know my secret.”

Heedless of the sharp creases in his pants, Ian knelt on the floor in front of him and rubbed his knees. “Okay, first, we are… fucking, so that really shouldn’t bother you, even though I’ll lie myself blue in the face. And I promise, they won’t have time to even read that story, they’ll be so busy with wedding preparation.”

Rick opened his mouth but Ian held up a hand to forestall him.

“Besides, even if they do read it, they won’t care. I know my family.”

“But I don’t.”

A tiny hint of exasperation crept into Ian’s tone, and he rocked back on his heels. “Because you won’t meet them.” Ian stood and started pacing. “My family is a huge part of my life. I can’t cut them out; I won’t cut them out, because they are not the enemy here.”

“Oh, and I am?” Almost like a disinterested observer, Rick could see himself fucking this up more and more, but he couldn’t stop himself. Not when the fear and exasperation were squeezing out logical thought and any other feelings.

“No, of course not. But I want—”

“What about what I want? Why doesn’t that seem to matter here?”

“Of course it matters, but—”

“But nothing. You’ve been pushing and pushing at me ever since we met. I haven’t been able to catch a breath, and here you are, sleeping over, leaving toothbrushes, wanting me to meet your family, ignoring the fact that I don’t want that. It’s too much, too soon.”

All the expression left Ian’s face. “And when will you want that? When will it not be too much or too soon?”

“I don’t know. I probably won’t know until it happens, if it ever does.”

“You can’t wait for perfection to start living. Life is never
just right
, Goldilocks. But you just let me know when everything’s perfect for you.”

“If I waited for perfection, I’d never leave the house, darling.” His breezy response wasn’t quite appropriate for a serious discussion, but Ian had blown this all out of proportion.

Ian’s nostrils flared. “Don’t fucking call me
darling
. I’m not one of your retinue of boy toys.”

Ouch. That one got him right in the stomach. An unexpected blow to his psyche.

Ian marched into the bathroom. Rick didn’t bother to follow him until he heard Ian walking down the hall, away from the bedroom.

“Ian? Dar….” He stopped himself just in time from saying “darling,” although he really didn’t know why Ian had suddenly taken offense to the word. He used it all the time.

His front door slammed and Rick ran. “Ian?” He threw open the door and dashed out, but the roar of Ian’s car as it skidded away told him he was too late.

He blinked. Ian was usually so calm and collected. What was so great about family that Ian wanted to force it on him? What was it that got him so emotional and angry? It shouldn’t have been a surprise that Rick didn’t want to go, but he didn’t understand why it was so important to Ian.

Once they’d both calmed down, maybe he could get Ian to see his side of things. This might be as much relationship as he could ever handle.

But he didn’t like the way Ian had left. He didn’t like the unsettled feeling, knowing Ian was angry with him. Despite what happened with his parents, he wasn’t at all afraid for his safety, but he’d grown accustomed to Ian’s calm, understanding company, and to endure such an abrupt switch left him with a cold ball of regret in the pit of his stomach.

Without any inclination to watch a movie or read or make dinner—all the things he’d originally planned to do while Ian was at the rehearsal dinner—he didn’t know what to do.

Returning to the bedroom, he gathered up the clothes Ian had shed before getting ready, and he folded them up and piled them on the chair he’d gotten used to thinking of as Ian’s.

Maybe Jon wanted some company this evening. No matter what, he couldn’t stay in. The house was too empty and quiet. Even if he just went to a club and danced, that would kill the time until Ian returned.

Rick wandered into the bathroom to brush his hair and teeth.

The sight of a single toothbrush in the holder, all alone, was like another, harder punch to the gut. The cold ball of regret expanded steadily outward, engulfing him, chilling him.

The knowledge that Ian wasn’t coming back home sent him sliding to the floor. Besides the limping, stuttering broken beat of his heart, the only other thing he could feel was the tears pouring like lava down his face.

Chapter 9

I
T
WAS
a good thing Dylan had asked Mike, their oldest brother, to be his best man, because he was the only one paying attention at the rehearsal. Both he and Kurt were admonished several times to pay attention and step here or walk there. Ian was too sunk in his own misery to even ask what had Kurt so distracted, and he was just as glad Kurt hadn’t asked him, either. Because he didn’t want to lie to his baby brother—again—but he couldn’t talk about Rick. Not when thinking about the guy made him want to pound the ever-loving shit out of something.

His mother would never, ever forgive him if he ended up tussling with one of his brothers the night before Dylan’s wedding, but he was so unsettled, annoyed, and hurt, he was worried that if anyone gave him too much shit about his distraction, he wasn’t going to be able to keep his aggression in check.

He couldn’t fucking believe Rick had bailed on him. Could not. Rick was worried about the impending story in
Errant
, and Ian could certainly understand that. Which didn’t change the fact that Rick didn’t trust him. Somehow, he made it more or less through the portion at the church and found his way to the restaurant where the rehearsal dinner was to be held, but he had virtually no memory of doing so.

His dad stood and clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention. “Deirdre’s got something to say, so listen up.” From behind her chair, he pulled out three large frames and placed them on the table in front of them. From this angle, he couldn’t see what was framed, aside from it appearing to be three photos.

His mom rose to her feet. “I’ve always been blessed with family. My children have always loved each other and gotten along with each other… eventually.”

The assembled family from both Dylan’s and Stephanie’s sides laughed dutifully.

“But my three baby boys, Dylan, Ian, and Kurt, have always been especially close. Dylan’s the first of the three to get married and when my Sean and I were trying to come up with a little gift for him, like the ones we got for his four older siblings, there was only one thing that came to mind. For those of you who maybe don’t know….” His mom nodded at Stephanie’s parents and her two sisters and smiled.

“We’ve lived in the same farmhouse in the suburbs since we moved to Toronto. We raised all of our children there, and out in the backyard was a huge fallen tree that Sean made into a log bench. Now, most times, my three little hellions ran around, screaming like banshees, over and around that bench. They never sat still unless they were passed out. Unless one of them was upset about something.”

Ian was suddenly aware of the curious scrutiny of a number of people in the room. Judging from the slight frowns on Kurt and Dylan’s faces, they didn’t know where his mom’s speech was going any more than he did.

“When one of them was upset, the other two would take him out back to the bench and they’d sit him down in the middle and talk it out. I didn’t always know what prompted those little powwows, but I always knew my boys would come back happy and content. And so did my Sean, who did his best to make sure nature didn’t reclaim that log bench. Thinking about that tree gave me the perfect gift idea, a reminder of family. But I also realized such a reminder was also a gift for my other two baby boys, and so there’s one of these for each of them.”

His mom lifted one of the frames and flipped it around.

All three pictures were taken of them from behind as they sat on the tree in his parents’ backyard. The top had been taken when they were around eight. Kurt, with his reddish head, sat in the middle. The second photo was during their early teens. Dylan’s sandy-blond hair had the featured spot in the center. The final photo… well, that had been taken the day Ian came out to his family, with his distinctive almost-black hair in between his two brothers. Without his mother drawing it to their attention, he might never have realized how many times he and his brothers had helped each other through rough times.

Ian sniffed. He wished Rick could have had a taste of what it was like, having that support all his life. Then he might have understood Ian’s position, might have accepted that Ian’s family was an integral part of him… before it was too late, before Ian had taken the final step he’d taken tonight.

There were a few more toasts before dinner was served. If Ian was pressed, he could have said there was meat and vegetables, but it had all tasted like so much cardboard.

O
NCE
dinner was over, the group moved and mingled through the room. Dylan left the side of his bride-to-be to round up Ian and Kurt.

Dylan peered into Kurt’s face. “You’re okay. I don’t know why you’re so distracted. Probably some weird sex thing.” Dylan made a mock disgusted face that made Kurt laugh.

“Davy is pretty good at the sex thing.”

Dylan clutched his chest like he’d been mortally wounded. “Jeez, don’t frigging tell me about that. I don’t want to know anything about my brothers’ sex lives. But, the point is, you’re distracted but not unhappy. This is my fucking wedding. I’m leaving on my honeymoon in exactly fifty-six hours, and until then, you’re mine, so get with the program and think about your crazy monkey sex on your own time, got it, squirt?”

Kurt laughed again. “Got it.”

“And you.” Dylan poked a finger in Ian’s face. “If I could take you back to the log bench in the units’ backyard, and sit you in the middle, I’d find out exactly what rabid squirrel crawled up your butt.”

Kurt swiveled his head and peered at him. “Shit. You’re right. Ian, dammit. What the hell is wrong?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Although, if there was a giant log he could sit on between his brothers, yeah, he might.

“Mom told me you were bringing a date. Is that what’s wrong?”

“Kurt, man, shut up. I don’t want to talk about it.” Because now he wasn’t going to have a date, and he shouldn’t be so miserable. Dylan was right; this was his weekend. He should be able to leave his own personal drama out of the weekend. Problem was, he’d just broken up with a guy he… fuck. The guy he wanted to be his like Kurt had Davy. But he couldn’t be happy if he couldn’t tell his family. He’d spent too long living that secretive life, and he knew how much it sucked.

His mom wandered by, interrupting their “brotherly” discussion.

“Ian, honey. You bringing your cute boy to the wedding?”

“No, Mom. I don’t have a cute boy.” The interrogations were never ending. Didn’t this qualify for cruel and unusual punishment?

“Okay, honey.” She patted his cheek.

God. He couldn’t listen to that question any more tonight. It would even be worse at the wedding, him having to tell everyone that his friend bailed and he had to attend his brother’s wedding stag. The only one in the entire family who didn’t have anyone. A loser who couldn’t even keep a secret boyfriend.

“Excuse me, I have to go to the washroom.”

He escaped his loving family and the crowded restaurant for a few moments of peace and pulled out his phone to call Leon.

“Hey man, I know this is short notice, but are you busy Saturday? My friend Rick was supposed to come to my brother’s wedding, and he can’t now. You want to come keep a guy in a tux company?”

“Ian, of course I’d love to come. Um… I don’t have to wear a tux, do I?”

Ian let out an unwilling chuckle. “No, of course not.” But remembering Leon’s normal work clothes and the few comments he’d made about financial difficulties, he realized Leon might not even have a suit. “Do you have a suit?”

Silence greeted his question. “Never mind. I’ve got one you can borrow.”