Exposure

by Ember Dante

  “Hey, gorgeous. When are you going to ditch this loser and find a real man?”

  Mason smacked the back of my head. “Ass. Get your grubby paws off my wife.”

  “Oh, I think it’s too late to throw him back.” She giggled. “Besides, I’m not letting him off the hook that easily.”

  Laughing, Mason stood with me, extending his hand before pulling me into a hug. “It’s been too long. I was just telling Finn we need to plan a poker night or something soon. I won’t have many opportunities once the baby arrives.”

  “You’ve got that right, Mister. You’ll be on diaper duty,” laughed Bailey.

  Bowing his head, Mason sighed in resignation.

  “Sucks to be you, dude.” I laughed, then leaned closer to whisper in his ear, “You should’ve stuck to anal and blow jobs like I told you. No babies.”

  Mason struggled to keep a straight face but was unsuccessful, and we burst into laughter. Bailey gave us a puzzled look and shrugged at our somewhat juvenile behavior. She always took everything in stride, regardless of the stupid things we said or did. I had to admit, she was perfect for him. The boy had grown up a lot since she’d been in his life. About damn time.

  Still laughing at Mason’s reaction, I walked over to Finn and wrapped him in a brief, yet tight hug. “Hey, man. How’ve you been?”

  “Good. You?”

  “Good. I agree with Mason about that poker night.”

  “Absolutely,” agreed Finn.

  “I better go say hello to Mom before she jumps my ass,” I joked.

  Finn hesitated a moment. “Are you up for a beer later?”

  “Yeah, absolutely.”

  “Cool.” He nodded toward the kitchen. “Go see Mom. We’ll talk later.”

  I smacked him on the shoulder and turned toward the kitchen. Mom hummed a familiar tune as she puttered about the space, her dark hair pulled into a low ponytail, much like she always wore it when my brothers and I were kids. Dressed in capris and a slim tank, she looked chic yet laid back. She hadn’t changed a bit. For the life of me, I couldn’t fathom how she ever got hooked up with Connor.

  “Hey, Mom.”

  She spun around at the sound of my voice, her hazel eyes alight with happiness.

  “Ian,” she exclaimed, rushing over to envelop me in a fierce hug. “Sweetheart. It’s so good to see you.”

  “Happy Mother’s Day.” I pointed to the gift bag I set on the counter. “This is for you.”

  “Thank you, sweet, but you didn’t have to get me anything.” She pulled away and ruffled the back of my hair. The affectionate gesture always made me laugh. “Can I open it now?”

  “Of course. You know you’re worse than a little kid, right?”

  Giggling, she plucked the tissue from the bag, revealing the two salmon orange boxes. Her head popped up, and she frowned, trying to look stern.

  “You spent entirely too much money on me, baby.”

  “Stop worrying.”

  She squealed in delight at the small charms wrapped inside and pulled me in for another hug. “Thank you. I love them. I can’t wait to add them to my bracelet. I love you, sweet.”

  “I love you, Mom.”

  She released me and stepped back. “Have you talked to Finn?”

  I wasn’t about to tell Finn’s secrets, especially when I didn’t know much about the new guy in his life. “Not really. We’re going out later.”

  One brow lifted as she studied me. “What about you? Something is different.”

  “What about me?”

  She gave me the typical ‘Mom’ look I’d come to know so well. “You’ve met someone, haven’t you?”

  How the hell did she know? “Yes. Well, I think so.”

  “You think so? You either have or you haven’t.”

  “Yes, I have, but ... it’s kind of complicated.”

  “It’s always complicated,” she said with a wink. “Tell me about her.”

  “She’s beautiful, Mom, but that’s not all. There’s so much about her, I don’t know where to start. She’s just…” I exhaled, letting my words trail off.

  Smiling, she nodded. “Sounds like you’ve found the right girl.”

  “Mom, I’ve only known her for about a week.”

  “It doesn’t matter. You’ll know if it’s right.”

  “Oddly enough, we kept running into each other in unexpected places.”

  “Really?”

  I nodded and took a deep breath. “I cooked for her.”

  She spun around, mouth agape. “You did? When?”

  “Friday.” Embarrassed, I rubbed the back of my neck. “I think she was fairly impressed.”

  “I suppose I don’t need to ask if you’ve slept with her. Just promise me you’ll be safe.”

  I buried my face in my hands and groaned. “Mom…”

  “I know, I know.” I looked up, and she motioned at the food. “Would you be a dear and help me carry this into the dining room?”

  I was right about the day being a complete cluster fuck. Some may have called my attitude a self-fulfilling prophecy, but I recognized the signs. Every meal we’d ever eaten together as a family had been the same old shit. Mom at one end of the table, Dad at the other. Finn and I on one side, Mason on the other. The major difference of this meal was that his wife sat beside him, acting as if she’d rather be anywhere else. Yep, right there with you, sister.

  Connor presided over the table much the same way as his courtroom, examining each of us with the same scrutiny he used while listening to testimony. The entire situation was uncomfortable, at best, although conversation stayed within acceptable parameters, namely, Dad dissecting his performance on the golf course. I was loathe to admit it, but it sounded like his game had improved considerably. His score was just under par, whereas it used to be somewhere in the low nineties. I guess he finally found a way to channel his asshole personality into something constructive.

  Mom, as usual, surpassed herself in the kitchen. The downside to that was even though it was Mother’s Day, she made Connor’s favorite—chicken fried steak. It was always about him. Always. In all fairness, Mom didn’t really care. She loved to cook, and she loved to feed us. Hell, she’d been trying to fatten me up for years. All of us, in fact. I always counted myself lucky whenever I managed to escape without leftovers.

  The other half of our little family reunion was about to get underway. Connor tossed back his third bourbon and went for another as he studied Finn like he was a bug to be squashed. Mason must have sensed it too because he turned fidgety, continually dropping his fork. The room was so quiet, apart from the gentle hum of conversation—it felt like we were sitting in a library for fuck’s sake—and the noise was jarring, making the rest of us jump at the sound. All of us except Dad that is. Nothing ever rattled that man. I guess when you’ve had as much practice ignoring other people as he had, it became second nature.

  “Finley, are you still working at that little art studio?” he asked.

  Bingo. Admittedly, it took longer than I expected. We’d almost made it through the entire meal before he started in on Finn. Mom had been a buffer, diffusing any potential conflicts.

  Finn rested his fork on his plate and clenched his fists. A muscle in his jaw ticked. Those two things were the only outward signs of his irritation. “It’s an advertising agency, and yes, I still work there.”

  “I heard you guys landed the rebranding for SMU. That’s pretty cool,” said Mason, attempting to derail the bigot locomotive known as Connor Walsh.

  Finn smiled in gratitude. “Yeah, we did. We’re all pretty stoked.”

  I nudged him with my elbow. “You didn’t tell me that. That’s awesome.” He gave me a half smile and reached for his fork.

  “Finley, you are capable of so much more.” The man couldn’t help himself. Connor would seize any opportunity to knock Finn down. “You’re still young. It’s not too late to pursue a different career.” Jesus Christ. The fucker couldn’t even come up with a n
ew argument. Same shit, different day.

  “I like what I do, Dad,” growled Finn. “I’m good at it. I like the people I work with.”

  Connor flicked his hand dismissively and plunged ahead as if Finn hadn’t spoken. “Whatever happened to Jenny Brewster? Weren’t you two dating?”

  “We were never actually dating. Besides, we didn’t get along that well.”

  Mason and I exchanged a quick glance of understanding. Bailey was silent, head down while she pushed food around her plate, her long blonde hair settling around her like a veil. Connor finished off bourbon number four and grabbed the decanter for another refill.

  “Why? She’s a lovely girl. She’ll make a fine wife someday.”

  Finn took several deep breaths. “I’m sure she will—just not for me. I prefer someone I can talk to, and she’s somewhat of an airhead.’ He cut a sidelong glance at Connor. “I really don’t have time for a relationship right now. I’ve been working pretty long hours.”

  “If you have time to hang out with your friends, you have time to date.” Connor swallowed more of the amber liquid. “I think I have just the girl, you’ll love her. It’s Sandra, Arthur West’s daughter. She’s smart, too. She just finished her Master in English.”

  That, in a nutshell, was the problem with our father. He never listened to a damn thing we said, and he considered any career outside the legal field as playtime. Aside from the fact that he couldn’t accept having a gay son.

  “Thanks, Dad, but I’ll pass. Blind dates typically don’t work out for me.”

  Mom cleared her throat and gave Connor a meaningful look. I’d been on the receiving end of that look before, and it never ended well. “Connor, he doesn’t want to meet her, nor the daughters of any of your other friends. Finn is quite capable of finding his own dates when he’s ready.”

  He opened his mouth to retort, but instead only glowered before returning his attention to Finn. He didn’t speak. He just stared at him, almost as if he wished he could erase Finn’s very existence. Mom’s intervention served as a window, and Mason took full advantage of it.

  “Hey, Ian, have you been keeping up with the Rangers?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh at his awkward redirect, and hoped he wasn’t like that in the courtroom. “Unfortunately, no. Parker and I are planning to go on the seventeenth. They’re playing the Indians.” I waved a finger between my brothers. “Maybe we can drag you two out there with us.”

  “That would be awesome! Just like old times,” whooped Mason while Finn nodded in agreement.

  The interrogation was derailed, but we all knew it was only temporary. We made it to dessert before the shit really hit the fan. Connor fixed his attention on both Finn and me, wearing an expression that clearly stated he expected an affirmative response. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind he was going to be disappointed.

  “Boys, Judge Carter is having a cocktail party for his son Jeremy who just made partner. Mason’s going to be there, and I think both of you should attend as well. It’s on Friday, the twenty-second.”

  I sighed in relief. “I can’t Dad, sorry. My show opens that night.”

  Finn relaxed as soon as the words left my mouth. “Yeah, I can’t make it either. I was planning to go to Ian’s opening.”

  “There’s no reason you can’t do both. You can be fashionably late.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. “I said I can’t. I’m taking a date, and I doubt she’d be comfortable there. Please thank Judge Carter on my behalf for his kind invitation.”

  The tension was palpable as Connor’s face filled with displeasure.

  “What about you, Finley? It would be a good opportunity to network and meet some people, even in your profession. It’s good to make as many contacts as possible in other fields. You never know when you may need help.” He raised his eyebrows. “You can meet Frank’s daughter.”

  Mom slapped her palm on the table. “Connor! Stop. Finn said no, and he meant it. Stop badgering him.”

  Connor lowered his voice and enunciated every word, his anger over her interference barely held in check. “Ginny, I wasn’t speaking to you. You would do well to remember that.”

  She clamped her mouth shut and glared. Mom was a true Southern lady and always chose her battles carefully. I knew she’d tear into him once we were all gone, but the way he spoke to her still made my blood boil. Finn jumped into the fray before I had a chance to respond. His voice was low and increased in volume with each word.

  “Leave her alone. And stop trying to control my life. I don’t want you to set me up with any more girls.” Finn lifted his head, meeting Connor’s gaze with a glare of pure hatred. “I’m gay, Dad. I’m not interested in women. You know this.”

  Our father narrowed his eyes, the muscles twitching in his jaw as color rose up his neck, starting just above the collar of his Ralph Lauren polo. He stood, his softening jowls trembling slightly, and slammed both hands on the table, rattling the remaining dishes. Mom and Bailey jumped at the outburst, prompting Mason to wrap his arm around his wife. The look on his face matched Finn’s.

  “DO NOT SAY THAT IN THIS HOUSE.”

  Finn stood abruptly and sent his chair toppling backward with a crash.

  “Say what, Dad? The word gay? Or that I’m gay? Or that you have a son who’s gay? I'm tired of tiptoeing around the fucking elephant in the room. I’m gay, gay, GAY.”

  “I will not tolerate that language in this house, and I will NOT have a queer son. No son of mine is going to associate with a bunch of goddamn faggots.”

  “Connor! How could you?” Mom gasped, splaying a hand over her chest.

  Finn held his hand out without taking his eyes off Connor. “It’s okay, Mom. Dad has made himself perfectly clear. He doesn’t want a GAY son.” He shrugged. “So consider me no longer your son.” He reached down, calm and unruffled, righting his chair before facing our father once again. “I’m done. You’re a miserable bastard, and I’m not going to tolerate YOU any longer. I’ll be sure and visit Mom when you aren’t here.” He stalked over to Mom and wrapped his arms around her. “I love you, Mom. I’ll call you later. Happy Mother’s Day.”

  Releasing her, he turned and stormed out of the house. Bailey jumped again when the door slammed, and she rested a protective hand over her stomach. Connor seemed oblivious as he poured bourbon number six.

  “Are you fucking happy now?” I asked.

  “I said I won’t tolerate that language in this house.”

  “Finn’s right. You are a miserable bastard.”

  I gave Mom’s shoulder a brief squeeze on my way past her. “I’m going to check on Finn.”

  She nodded, turning her attention to Connor. Her voice remained calm, but I could hear the anger simmering just beneath the surface when she asked him to step out of the room so they could speak in private. Hell, after the scene that just played out, she should have jumped his ass right there.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, settling beside Finn on the front steps.

  “Yeah, I’m great now that I’ve gotten that asshole out of my life. Why does Mom stay with him? I mean, we’re grown. It’s not like she needs him anymore.”

  “I have no idea.” I shrugged. “I’ve been asking myself that for years.”

  Finn turned and smiled. “How about we go get that beer now?”

  “That sounds like a damn good idea.”

  I let Finn pick our destination and followed him to a pub on McKinney Avenue. It was a little hole-in-the-wall brick building with a metal Mansard roof and a covered porch across the front. Christmas lights were strung around the line of the porch and the requisite neon beer signs decorated the dingy facade. The interior was more upscale, the complete opposite of what I expected. It was warm and soothing, with a hardwood floor and a polished wood bar that ran almost the entire width of the back wall.

  Finn led the way, finally settling at one end, close to the kitchen door. I gave him a few minutes to unwind from our family drama before pressing h
im to talk. I figured it was fair game as soon as the bartender deposited our drinks in front of us.

  “Tell me about the new guy.”

  “You already know him,” Finn mumbled.

  “I do? How?”

  “He was on the tennis team in high school. His dad was transferred here when we were juniors, and he’s lived here ever since. He just recently went back to school to finish his master’s, and he’s been working here.” That explained his choice of venue. Finn turned toward me. “It has to be fate, right? I mean, isn’t it weird we found each other again after all these years?” He turned to face forward again and dropped his chin. His voice came out as a harsh whisper, “I guess that sounds pretty gay.”

  Anger coursed through me, knowing our father was the reason my brother felt that way. The man was at fault for many things. I leaned closer, gripping Finn’s elbow to get his attention.

  “You forget that shit right now. It’s not gay to think fate brought you together. You are who you are, and there is not a damn thing wrong with you. Do you understand me?” Finn nodded, and my voice softened. “Besides, you aren’t the only one who believes in fate.”

  “So who’s the girl?”

  “Who said I was talking about a girl?”

  “You’re just like Mom,” he chuckled. “You both look for signs and believe everything happens for a reason. If you’re talking about fate, you’ve met someone.”

  “Touché.”

  “What’s she like?”

  “Nope. You first.”

  A hint of a smile appeared, and he blushed. He actually blushed. I couldn’t remember ever seeing him do that before.

  “He’s a few inches taller than I am, so he’s probably six-three. Muscular. He’s got dark hair, short—you know, a buzz cut—grey eyes, and wow.” A dreamy look crossed his face as he described his new love. “Just ... wow.”

  “So he’s hot, huh? Is that what you’re telling me?”

  He blushed again. “Yeah, he is.”

  “Dude, it’s okay. I think it’s great. I’m glad you’re happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”

  “Why have you always been so cool about this? About me?”