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“I’m sorry to hear that, son,” my father offered, genuine emotion in his voice. I knew he was feeling a kinship with Jay right now, not having had any kind of contact with his parents.
Jay nodded in response.
A beat of silence settled over the table, which didn’t last for long, of course. Not with my father around. “Okay, I’ll clean up. You can get the bags from the car and put them in Stella’s bedroom,” he informed Jay. Dad looked at me. “You can relax. Have a huge slice of chocolate cake I baked especially for you. That’s an order.”
I grinned at my father, my whole body warming. “I think I can do that.”
The rest of the weekend went quickly. Far too quickly. I thought it was going to be cold, stilted and awkward with Jay there, his dark presence a shadow on what would normally be a beautiful weekend.
I was more than surprised to see it was the opposite. Of course, Jay did not change upon walking through the door. Did not start laughing, smiling or making jokes. He continued to keep his expressions blank, his mood unreadable and his responses succinct. But something about him seemed more ... relaxed. He watched football with my father while I reread some of my old books. He even helped with the dishes.
At night, he yanked me close to him, murmured all of the things he was going to do to me once we got back on the plane, his hard cock pressing into me.
I knew my father noticed things about Jay, though. Noticed the darkness and danger he carried around. Noticed the command he had over a room. He had over me.
He mentioned it, one afternoon when Jay was out getting wine for me. I’d barely taken my last sip before he stood up, declaring he was going to get more. Something that simultaneously surprised and delighted me.
“You were never going to do the conventional relationship, the conventional man, were you?” my father inquired as I stared at the door Jay had just left from.
His words jerked my attention to where he was sitting in his La-Z-Boy, the one he’d had since I could remember.
My stomach dropped thinking he’d caught something allowing him to deduce the true details of our arrangement.
“What do you mean?” I squeaked, my voice higher than it should’ve been.
“I mean it’s intense, Stells,” he said. “The way he looks at you. Like he’s ready to catch you if the ground falls from underneath your feet. Like he’s expecting something to take you away. And the way you look at him. You move when he moves. You’re in his orbit.”
Yes, my father was perceptive.
Far too perceptive.
I really wished I hadn’t downed the last of my wine because I really needed it now.
“I just don’t want you to get sucked in, sweetheart. I don’t want you to forget that you’ve got your own gravity. You don’t need to orbit around anyone,” Dad said.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I know, Dad,” I whispered. “You taught me that. And I promise ... I’m okay.”
He chuckled. “No honey, you’re not. You’re in very deep with this man. I don’t know how it’s going to work out, but he’s curled around you, and I know I can’t change that.”
So yeah, my dad had pegged my feelings immediately. But that conversation was the only one we had about my relationship with Jay. There were no warnings, no further discussion. That wasn’t my dad’s way. I was sure he wondered why Jay didn’t smile, didn’t joke, didn’t show any emotion beyond the cold intensity that I never got used to. Yes, my father noticed that. It was impossible not to. And he would’ve wondered about it. It wasn’t exactly normal. But he didn’t mention it.
There was a Thanksgiving dinner with five courses. There was plenty of warmth, laughter and love—between me and my father, at least. Jay seemed content enough. Or I liked to think he.
We didn’t visit my mother while we were there. Normally, I would. She’d usually come for dinner, and I’d spend an afternoon with her. It wasn’t always good. Wasn’t always happy, but it was our tradition. She was my mother. I loved her company, even if that love was painful and threaded with fear and discomfort.
Dad had pulled me aside that first night, spoke quietly about how my mother was having an episode, so she wouldn’t be able to come. I wouldn’t be able to see her.
He’d spoken quietly, softly, with his hand cupping my cheek, knowing the pain that his gently spoken words were causing.
I’d known she was getting worse. Knew that they were preparing to put her in a facility full time, yet this news hit me. Hard. It yanked up fears about my own future, brought bile to my mouth. I tried to put on a brave face for my father, tried to put on a mask for Jay, but it was a mark on an otherwise flawless weekend.
