I sat beside him and brushed his hair from his forehead before tackling him. I pinned his arms beside his head and blew raspberries on his neck until he almost tossed me off the sofa. “Whoa. Easy, partner.”
Derek chuckled. “Quit it. You know I hate that.”
“Liar.” I gave him a big, sloppy kiss, then sat up and pulled him with me. “How many days till showtime?”
“Eight days till the party, ten till our grand opening. Did you get someone to cover your games?”
“Yep. I have practice both mornings, but I’ll be free all day and all night,” I assured him, leaning forward to pick up a Christmas card. A large silver envelope was stuck underneath it. “I thought you sent the party invites out two weeks ago. Who’s this one for?”
“My parents.”
Fuck. Family tension sucked, but it was especially rough during the holidays. Derek and his mom had been at odds for almost two months now. I was a little worried they’d go radio silent on each other after the fiasco at the demo party back in October. I’d missed the whole scene, but Derek had been shaking when he relayed it to me later. He was hurt and angry…and I understood. I figured some space would help. And it did at first.
He invited his parents to do another tour after the construction team had cleared out the debris. I talked football stats with his dad in hushed tones while Derek explained the proposed plans for the bistro with his mom. I thought the visit had gone okay, but he wasn’t happy afterward. Apparently, she criticized his tile choice and said the lighting ideas seemed a bit…gauche. I’d laughed it off, but he wasn’t amused, which made Thanksgiving awkward as hell.
The gloves came off this season. Subtly, of course. His mom said the collar on his shirt should have been ironed. He counterattacked with an errant comment about the consistency of her mashed potatoes later at dinner. Thankfully, there were a few aunts, uncles, and cousins around to soften the sniping. And no one seemed to notice the tension.
I noticed. And a week later, it hadn’t gotten any better.
“Babe, you have to invite your parents,” I said gently. “They love you and—”
“They have an odd way of showing it.”
“Sometimes. But we don’t get to order the kind of affection we want from our families. Your mom isn’t warm and cuddly. It’s not who she is. It doesn’t mean she doesn’t care.”
Derek sighed. “I know. It would be nice to have her support too.”
“I know.” I knew too well. My parents split up years ago. I was close to my mom, but my dad remarried and had two other sons. I pushed my fingers through his hair and gave him a weak smile. “Your mom and my dad have a few things in common. He forgets about me till water polo season, but I guarantee he’ll find a way to get to Tokyo for the Olympics. I used to hate that he only showed up for games. But I finally clued in that he wasn’t capable of giving more. In a way, it’s the same for your mom. She shows love by giving money and taking over. She might be having a hard time with the fact that you don’t really need that kind of help anymore.”
His shoulders fell. “I was always going to invite them. I didn’t want to give her too much advance notice. I can’t take the criticism right now. I’m a little…thin-skinned at the moment. Anything can go wrong. The last thing I need is my mother waiting on the sidelines to say, ‘I told you so.’ ”
I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him close. “That’s not going to happen. I won’t let it.”
“Thanks. I’ll mail it in the morning.”
“I’ll do it on my way to the pool. That way you don’t have to think about it,” I offered.
Derek twisted to face me and smiled. “I love you.”
“Love you too.” I kissed his nose. “I’m so fucking hungry, and something smells good.”
“I made chili. Let’s eat and watch a holiday movie. Your turn to choose.”
“Die Hard.”
He snort-laughed as he headed for the kitchen. “You’re killing that movie. We watched it twice already. Choose something else.”
“Die Hard 2.”
Derek made a buzzing noise. “That’s not a holiday movie. Looks like you forfeit this round, Chadwick. My turn. I choose…A Christmas Story.”
“Again?”
“Yeah, but first time this season. Whoop, whoop!”
“Wow, you’re a dork.” I chuckled affectionately.
I hooked my arm around his neck and gave him a noogie…which accidentally started a wrestling match that led to an epic make-out session, followed by a blowjob. Better than any holiday movie, if you ask me.
The next morning, I stuffed the envelope addressed to Derek’s folks into my water polo bag and set out for a long day at the pool. Well, multiple pools. I had practice with the national team in Los Alamitos; then I had to put my coaching hat on and run back-to-back practices at Long Beach State before heading to Cerritos for a youth club game. By six p.m., I was exhausted, but I had one more chore to do.
I drove to Palos Verdes, typed a code at the gated entrance, and cruised into the Vaughns’ posh neighborhood. They’d moved here after Derek graduated from college. His dad was a big golfer, and supposedly this was a premier course. He threatened to invite us to play, but that hadn’t happened yet. I think he genuinely wanted to connect with us and support us. He just wasn’t sure how…or maybe he wasn’t brave enough. It might feel funny to introduce your son and boyfriend to your golf buddies. What did I know? I hadn’t seen my own dad in six months.
I parked in front of their traditional Cape-Cod-style home, noting the boring single strand of white lights and faux garlands wrapped around the pillars on either side of the door. Ours was way cooler, I mused as I rang the bell. Once…nothing. Twice…I peered through the glass panel at the top of the door. The lights were on. They should be here. I was about to go for a third time, when Derek’s mom appeared.
“Gabe! Hello. Where’s Derek? He didn’t mention you two were coming by.” She craned her neck to look toward the darkened street.
“No, he’s not here.”
Blood drained from her face so fast, I reached for her elbow to steady her in case she toppled over. “Is he okay? What happened? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I promise.” I patted her arm gently, then inclined my head. “Can I come in for a minute? I won’t stay long.”
“Yes, of course.” She grabbed my jacket sleeve and practically pulled me inside. “Jack will be home soon. He said the traffic from Orange County was terrible tonight.”
I followed her from the entry into the grand great room. The Vaughns had big bucks and expensive taste. I didn’t necessarily think of them as ostentatious, but they drove European luxury cars, went on exclusive getaways, and their house was un-fucking-real. It was the perfect blend of traditional and modern with sleek paneled walls, high ceilings, and a disappearing wall of windows that showcased a jaw-dropping view of the Pacific. Everything about this place was designer perfect. Even their Christmas tree looked professionally decorated. No offense, but I liked ours better.
Derek’s mom made a beeline for the refrigerator, clutching her pearls with a shaky hand as she recited a long list of beverage choices.