by Tara Lain
“I said, ‘Maybe. What’s the last name?’ That’s the first time I heard the name Marco Andretti. I researched and quickly discovered the organized crime connection. I called O’Hara, who knew the name. He followed up and discovered the FBI had been trying to get something on Marco Andretti for decades. We took off for New York. Fortunately they needed me to identify you in case they’d changed your appearance, so they didn’t try to leave me behind. Plus I was pretty insistent. They spied on Andretti for a day before I got there and confirmed there was a new young guy on the property. They were pretty convinced you weren’t a prisoner since you looked so at home, but O’Hara and I persuaded them to let me check. You know the rest.”
Jeremy couldn’t stop shaking his head. “You did all this for me.” It wasn’t a question.
Bo smiled softly. “Of course, I didn’t have a white horse to ride in on or a saber to carry. Had to settle for the FBI.”
Jeremy threw his arms around Bo’s neck and kissed him until they both had to raise their heads for oxygen. Jeremy grinned. “What’s coming out compared to taking on the New York mafia?”
“Mama’s scarier.”
Jeremy laughed. “Okay, let’s go, then.” Hand in hand they walked to Jeremy’s car and headed down the hill to the highway.
Bo looked nervous but resolute.
Jeremy glanced at him again. “What are you going to say?”
“I’ll pray for guidance at the time.”
“To Dionysus?”
Bo looked startled but said, “Among others.”
Jeremy’s stomach clenched. “Look, Bo, you don’t have to—”
“Of course I do. How can we be together forever if I’m in the closet?”
“Be roommates?” Jeremy grinned sheepishly.
“Right.”
“Okay, out is in!” He laughed, his heart beating a mile a minute. “Where’d you tell them you were going?”
“I didn’t. I just said I had to go on a trip and they shouldn’t worry.”
At Bo’s direction, Jeremy turned off the highway, followed a winding, gravel road, and pulled up in front of a big ranch house with incongruously cute rows of primroses arranged in beds by the front door. Bo blew out a breath and opened the passenger door, planting himself like an oak in front of the house.
As Jeremy climbed out his side, the front door opened and Bo’s mom, a round but beautiful woman, came running out shrieking, “Oh my God, Beauregard, we’ve been so worried about you. I’m so grateful you’re safe.” She hurled herself toward him and clutched him around the neck.
She has no idea. Jeremy walked around the car.
“I told you not to worry, Mama.”
She looked over, caught sight of Jeremy, and scowled. “You always seem to get in trouble when you and Mr. Aames are together.”
Double no idea. Jeremy hid a grin.
“Mama, go inside, gather whoever is home, and meet me in the great room. I have some important things to discuss.”
She fanned her hand in front of her face. “Oh my.”
Triple no idea.
“Is this about—”
“You’ll know what it’s about soon enough. Go on inside.” She bustled up the stairs, clutching at her frilly blouse.
Bo extended his hand. Jeremy swallowed, and he took it. Jeremy said, “To whatever comes next.”
Bo nodded. “Forever.”
When they got into the house, a weird combination of masculine ranch style and something out of a historical romance novel, people were scampering from every direction. An elderly man walked in from a hall. Bo said, “Jeremy, this is my grandfather, Harvey Walshman.”
Jeremy extended his hand but had to release Bo’s to do it. “How do you do, sir?”
Harvey glanced at Bo, then at Jeremy, and grinned. “Well, isn’t that something? This is going to be fun.” Chuckling, he squeezed Jeremy’s hand. “Delighted to meet you, Jeremy. De-lighted.”
Bo took his arm and escorted him into the great room, where his mother and the sisters sat on various couches and chairs, all much too flowery and formal for the house. The two sisters sat on opposite sides of their mother in a mutually protective line. An older couple occupied a love seat. Their expressions were interested and open.
Bo motioned to the couple. “Jeremy, you haven’t met my Aunt Cortina and my uncle Davey.”
Jeremy walked over and shook their hands as Bo’s mother said tightly, “Jeremy is a colleague of Bo’s.”
He wanted to laugh. Nerves, but still. Talk about wishes making it so. But it was true, so he said nothing.
Bo guided him to a floral chair, which used up the available seating, so Bo grabbed a chair from the dining room and pulled it into the circle of anxious-looking family. He sat and gave them all a gaze.
Bettina said, “Come on, Bo, you’re freaking us out.”
Bo’s mother waved a hand. “Should we have some wine?”
“Mama, it’s 10:00 a.m.”
Blanche laughed nervously. “Always time for wine.”
Bo’s chest expanded and he said, “What I want to tell you is I’m gay.”
JUST SAYING the words unfurled a line of barbed wire that lived around Bo’s heart.
Blanche slapped a hand over her mouth, Cortina and Davey looked at each other, Bettina gasped, and Grandpa just gaggled a laugh.
Mama narrowed her eyes. “Stop joking, Bo. It’s not funny.”
“No, it’s not.” He leaned forward and forced himself not to cross his arms. “What’s not funny is the fact that I’m twenty-six years old and have never felt safe or comfortable enough with you to tell you who I really am.”
Mama did cross her arms. “You’re not blaming us for that?”
“I’m blaming all of us. It means you all are dependent and judgmental and I’m a coward. You have too much invested in me never changing, and I’ve been afraid to jeopardize your good opinion, which I value, as well as risking the scorn of others in my business life.”
“Which you will receive!” His mother stared at him.
“I don’t care, Mother.”
Her hand clutched her chest. “How can you say that? A man has nothing more valuable than his honor and good name.”
Jeremy made a little snorting sound but coughed over it. Mama shot him a vicious look.
“Mama, what I’ve realized is that I’ve internalized all the crap I grew up believing to the point I’d give up my own happiness in order to fit your pictures. I can’t do that anymore. I deserve a life of my own.”
“Crap?” Her eyes widened.
“Yes. All the ‘the man is the head of the household, the provider, the one who must care for everything and please his family’ crap. And that a gay man must spend his life as a confirmed bachelor who just never found the right girl.”
For a moment there was icy silence. Davey held up a hand. “Bo, can I say something?”
Bo nodded.
“Cortina and I have been talking for months. We never intended for you to take care of us. We were grateful to be able to move with you but always planned to go out on our own. We’re not old. We want to work. You just made life so comfortable for us, it’s been easy to mooch, and I apologize for that, but we’re ending it. We have some money saved, and we’ll find a place to live in Paso right away.”
Bo had to bite his tongue to keep from saying, “Don’t go,” but that was reinforcing everything he’d just declared he wanted to change. “I appreciate that.”
“And there are more people in this family who could think about self-sufficiency as well.” Davey stared pointedly from Blanche to Bettina.
Mama said, “Am I supposed to go out and push a broom or something?”
Before Bo could say something stupid like “Of course not, Mama,” Davey said, “You’re not an old woman, and it’s time you stopped acting like the lady of the manor while your son’s working his butt off to support us all.”
She waved her hands in dismissal. “Why are we even talking about
this? Bo has just told us that he’s under the misapprehension that he’s a homosexual. What do you have to say about that, Davey?”
“I’d say first, that’s Bo’s business, and second, that Bo’s earned the right to a life he wants. Far be it from me to say what that should and shouldn’t be.”
Mama’s mouth dropped open. She glanced at Cortina, who held up a hand. “I agree, and I already sent out a resume last week. Got a few bites too.” She grinned.
Blanche pressed her folded arms tightly over her chest. “According to Bo, I don’t have any skills or business sense, so I don’t know why I should look for a job.”
Davey leaned back in the overstuffed chair. “Eating might be good motivation.”
Bettina had been staring into space. She looked up. “You’re right, Davey. I’ve appreciated the time to get myself together after the divorce, but I need to move on. I’ll start looking tomorrow.”
Bo’s grandfather said, “I’d like something to do. Maybe I can help Bo with his books?”
How exactly this coming out had turned into an employment discussion, Bo wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t complain. “My real intention was to introduce you all to Jeremy Aames, the man I love and plan to spend the rest of my life with.” He reached between the chairs, took Jeremy’s hand, and kissed it.
His mother snorted.
Davey said, “I’d change my attitude if I were you, unless you want to end up pushing that broom.”
“No son of mine would ever—”
Bo raised a hand. “Mother, you’re not going to be pushing a broom, and you’re also not going to be pushing us around. I appreciate that everyone wants to return to some independence, and I applaud your choices, but they are your choices. I’ll be living with Jeremy, whether here or somewhere else remains to be seen. For the moment all you need to do is wish us well or keep your mouth closed. I’ve had enough opinions to last a lifetime.”
Grandfather Harvey said, “So, Jeremy, are you a winemaker too?”
Jeremy smiled. “Yes. I own Hill Top Winery.”
“Oh, lovely. Bo’s shared your wines with us, and they’re my favorites after Bo’s.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Call me Harvey.”
His mother raised her voice. “Are we just pretending that this is all settled?”
To his shock Blanche turned on Mama. “Oh, give it up. What do you have to say about it?”
“But—”
“She’s right, Mama.” Bo kept his expression soft. “There was no question in my announcement.”
“What happens when you start losing business because you’re a—gay?”
“Then I lose business. I’ve lost it before, God knows.”
“But—”
“Mama!” She shut her lips in a straight line. Bo said, “If you can’t be happy for us, at least stop talking. We have a lot to figure out, but I’ll keep you all in the loop.” He stood and extended his hand to Jeremy. “We better get to work. There’s a lot to do.”
Jeremy gave him a smile so sweet he could have stirred it into tea, rose, and took his hand.
Bettina smiled. “I just want to say I’m mighty happy for you both. I’ve always believed love is love, and I know personally how hard it is to find.”
Blanche frowned. “You never believed love is love, for God’s sake.”
“Yes, I did. I just never told you.” She gave a quick nod, like so there.
“I’m righteously happy for both of you.” Harvey stuck out his hand. “And I’m serious about helping with the accounting.”
“Thanks, Harvey.” Bo grinned. “But I have an accounting team. Maybe we can find another job for you.”
“Anything you need.”
“I could use accounting help, Harvey,” Jeremy said. “My winery’s smaller than Bo’s and I recently had some hard times, so if you have accounting skills, I could use you.”
Harvey bent at the waist in a small half bow. “Qualified CPA, at your service.”
“Excellent.”
Cortina bounded up and hugged Bo. It seemed since Davey had defied his sister, none of them were as afraid of her—including Bo. She grinned. “We’re so happy for you, Bo. You deserve a wonderful life.” She stepped over and hugged Jeremy. “Welcome to the family.”
Bettina followed, and then Harvey and Davey. Mama wiped her cheek. Her chest expanded. Her voice sounded tight, but she said, “You know I want you to be happy. I’ve always wanted that. Family is more important to me than anything, no matter what the preacher says.”
Bo knelt down in front of her spot on the couch. “I know how hard you worked to give me a great childhood and education. I don’t want to be a disappointment to you. That’s why I’ve never told you. But I didn’t have Jeremy then. Giving him up would be far more than anyone has a right to ask—including me.”
She snuffled and dabbed her cheeks with a lace handkerchief. “You could never be a disappointment to me, Beauregard.” She dabbed some more. “Will there be a wedding?”
“At some point, I hope so.” Jeremy gazed up into his eyes with a gleaming smile, and Bo gave him a gentle peck on the lips.
“C-can I plan it?”
He looked at Jeremy, who nodded. Bo said, “You can help.”
Jeremy gave her his happy smile. “I don’t have any family, Mrs. Marchand, so your help would be much appreciated.”
“No family!” Like Blanche Dubois, she pressed the hand against her breast again. “Oh, you poor thing. You must be from the North. Am I right?”
“Yes, ma’am. New York.”
She shook her head. “That explains it. Crime, broken families, rat race, and no appreciation for roots.”
Bo wanted to laugh, but Jeremy nodded solemnly.
“Where’s your mama?” She frowned, like clearly his mother had done a piss-poor job if he’d turned out gay. But then, that might reflect upon her.
“My mother left our family and then died. I never knew her very well.”
“That’s terrible!” The hand pressed the chest. “Isn’t that terrible, Blanche?”
“Yes, terrible.” She rolled her eyes.
Bettina turned. “Blanche, stop this. Bo used to be your closest friend in the family. Why are you being like this?”
“He doesn’t want me to work for him.” Her tight arms clutched her chest.
Bo frowned. “I don’t want you trying to run the business when you have no experience. Obviously.”
“What kind of job do you want, Blanche?” Jeremy squeezed Bo’s hand.
“An internship.” She stuck her chin out.
“That’s not what you told RJ,” Bo said. “And I told you, we don’t have an internship set up, and I haven’t had a chance to work on it.”
“Tell you what, Blanche. I just lost a key employee,” Jeremy said, “so we can work out an internship for you. You won’t make much, but it would give you experience.”
“Really?” She squealed and threw her arms around Jeremy. He hugged her back, laughing.
Mama glanced at him. “That’s kind of you. Thank you.” She took a deep breath. “So you’re going to live here, right? After all, Jeremy needs some family around him.”
“We’ll talk about it, Mama. But probably we’re going to want some privacy to start our life together.”
“But family—”
“I know. We’ll talk about it.” Jeremy gave him a hand squeeze again. “Meanwhile, there’s work to do.”
Mama said, “Jeremy, where’s your father?”
“Dead, ma’am.”
Her eyes widened in genuine horror. “Oh my God, you poor dear. How you’ve suffered.”
“Thank you for your kind thoughts, ma’am.”
“Are you sure you’re from New York? You certainly have the look of a Southern gentleman. So dashing with your beautiful hair.”
“I’m pretty sure, yes, ma’am.”
She stood and walked to him—amazing in itself. She reached up and touched his hair. “How
do you happen to have all this lovely hair in these days when men chop the hair on their heads and grow it all over their faces?”
He grinned. “My mother loved it, and keeping it has helped me feel a little closer to her.”
Tears filled Mama’s eyes. “Isn’t that the sweetest thing I ever heard?”
“It’s true. I look in the mirror and think of her.”
“Bless your heart.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
She touched his cheek. “Darlin’, call me Mama.”
Chapter Thirty-one
WHEN THEY pulled up in front of Marchand, they were still laughing. Bo shook his head. “‘Call me Mama’? I feel like a fool for building this up in my mind until it was an insurmountable barrier.”
Jeremy shrugged. “You’re as much a product of that kind of prejudice as your mother. You were finally ready to break the barriers.”
“Because I had something I wanted so much more than my family’s approbation.”
Jeremy put a finger under his chin. “Moi?”
“Tu.”
“So how are we going to attack our other priority? How will we solve the murder before O’Hara finds out you’re fibbing?”
“Not sure it’ll be considered a fib. More like lying my ass off.”
“And such a pretty ass.”
Bo kissed Jeremy’s nose. “Let’s cast all our nets, hunt all our hounds, and see what we come up with. I’ve got a lot of questions but no answers yet.”
“Maybe Christian let some hound slip to one of my staff.”
“Or you could be barking up the wrong tree.” They were both light-headed with relief, clearly.
They kissed softly and Bo walked into the winery, waving goodbye to Jeremy.
RJ looked up and smiled. “Hi, Bo. How was your trip?”
A laugh escaped. Thinking of that adventure as a “trip” was unexpected. “Good, RJ. Action-packed. Hey, would you see if you can get all the staff together? You don’t have to bother the vineyard crew or production. I’ll talk to them later.”