Dreamspinner Press Year Nine Greatest Hits

by Michael Murphy

  Chapter 20

  Kyle

  THERE’S NO reason to be nervous, Kyle. Get the fuck over it already!

  Somehow my inner pep talk didn’t seem to do much for me. I didn’t know why I was nervous. This dinner wasn’t any different than any other. I’d been to countless ones over the years.

  For the most part, in fact, they were boring. I’d do a lot of fake smiling, make a ton of small talk that I could do in my sleep, eat the ridiculously expensive food my parents served, and in general do what I could to simply get through it. I’d pretend to be the happy, devoted but playboy son, then escape when I thought I’d put in enough of an appearance.

  I’d done it for the last five years, once I’d graduated high school. Back then, when my friend Megan had posed as my girlfriend, it’d kept me from having to answer those questions. But other than that, there hadn’t been much different even back then. Well, that and the fact that I hadn’t been allowed to drink the champagne.

  I still couldn’t, if I didn’t want to end up having to sleep in one of my parents’ many guest rooms. I could have a glass or two, but that was it. Because I would not stay any longer than I had to.

  Why do I want these people again? Oh yeah, to keep a roof over my head. I sighed and paused in the driveway to check my reflection in the mirror, straightening my bow tie. I’d gotten ready at Mal’s and had felt really good at the look he gave me when I came out in the tux. He’d stared, mouth hanging open, and I could have sworn I saw honest to God drool on his chin.

  Sure my tie was straight and my collar was safely hidden—I refused to leave it off, which I think Mal appreciated—I drove the rest of the way down the driveway and stopped in front of my parents’ house. I grabbed the two small packages from the car seat and got out, handing the key to the valet they’d hired for the evening. He gave my car a dubious look—undoubtedly the only hybrid he’d park tonight—then blinked at me.

  I smiled. “Hi. I’m Mr. and Mrs. Bingham’s son.”

  He blinked again, then nodded, almost bowing to me. I suppressed an eye roll. “I will take good care of it,” he promised in a thick Spanglish accent.

  “Thanks.” As soon as he went around the car, I touched my neck where my collar was, reminding myself it was there. Then I took another breath and stepped up onto wide stairs that led up to the front door.

  The music was already flowing from the ballroom when I stepped into the house. House was a loose term. The “house” had some thirteen thousand square feet of living space, with seven bedrooms, ten bathrooms, a kitchen that would make most hotels jealous, a receiving room, a music room, a full-sized, two-level library, a lap pool indoors, a huge swimming pool outside, and way more. It was altogether ridiculous in size for a family like mine.

  Of course, our family hadn’t always been so small. Further back in my family’s history, there’d been a number of generations with four or more children. Still more than a family like that needed, but they’d had money, so they’d spent it.

  It was only by virtue of the fact that the house was owned outright with a trust for the taxes alone that we’d even been able to keep it. But it went a long way toward helping my parents maintain the illusion of filthy rich they so desperately clung to.

  I certainly hadn’t minded the size when I was younger. I’d had a huge room, we’d had a “media” room back then so I could watch the enormous TV and play video games, and I’d been able to keep to myself for the most part. On top of that, there’d been plenty of other places to get lost and hide from my parents, always delaying the discussions of how much I wasn’t living up to their expectations.

  I shook the thoughts off and peered into the music room. A number of my parents’ friends filled the couches, but neither of my parents themselves were there. Crossing to the receiving room didn’t help me, either. I moved through the two-story grand foyer, not even glancing at the majestic curving staircase, past still more of their friends, and approached the ballroom. Finally, I found my mother in the corner, opposite the string quartet. She wore long blue satin, her perfectly coifed, dyed-brown hair up in some complicated twist, and just enough makeup to make sure no one could accurately guess her age.

  It always killed me that they’d have something like this on Christmas day itself. The added servants, the musicians, even the valet should’ve been home with their families, not catering to my parents and their ridiculous friends. Hell, even Anna should’ve been off today, but if I knew her—and after twenty-three years, I hope I did—she wouldn’t even have taken a break for more than a few moments.

  I snatched a glass of champagne off a passing tray to fortify myself. While I drank, I looked around the ballroom. They’d outdone themselves on the tree. It looked like it reached all the way to the open second story cathedral ceiling. I shuddered as I imagined what poor Anna went through to decorate the thing. Maybe they’d actually paid someone else to help.

  Just as I thought of her, Anna stepped out of the butler’s pantry with a huge smile on her face. “Master Kyle!” she said in a similar accent to the valet, opening her arms. Since I’d learned my submissive side, I’d always felt weird hearing that, but I’d never figured out how to tell her without trying to explain why.

  I stepped into the hug, wrapping my arms around her. Anna barely came to my chest. Short and plump, she’d been everything I wanted my own mother to be. She always had a smile for me at the end of the school day, often pretended she didn’t see me stealing cookies from the counter, and harassed me—albeit lovingly—to pick my clothes up off the floor.

  I hugged her back, then let go, smiling. “It’s good to see you, Miss Anna.”

  “Oh, stop, you’re a grown man now!”

  I didn’t argue. We’d had this conversation more times than I could count. “How are you?” I asked instead.

  She beamed at me. “I’m doing well. My arthritis is much better these days. How are you?”

  I blushed, which was ridiculous. I was doing well, but I couldn’t exactly explain why. I went with half of it. “I’m doing well. Work is great, and I’ve made some new friends.” Well, a new friend. Could Mal be considered a friend? I mentally shook my head at myself.

  If possible, her smile widened even more. “Oh, how wonderful! You never had any when you were a child. I always worried for you so.” She reached out and pinched my cheek.

  Okay, so that wasn’t something I’d wanted my own mother to do.

  “I’m glad to hear it. Before you get busy….” She pulled an envelope out of her apron pocket. “Mrs. Bingham left this for you.”

  I raised my eyebrows, but took it and tucked it into my pocket to look at later. I held out the two small packages I had. “Could you set these aside for later for me?”

  “Of course, Master Kyle,” she said as she took them.

  I reached into my pocket and pulled out a third, smaller gift and held it out to her. “This one is for you.”

  “Oh, you shouldn’t have!” She gave me a scolding look, but there was a twinkle in her dark eyes.

  I smiled. “Well, open it!”

  She shook her head at me and tore off the paper. She shot me a look when she saw the velvet jewelry box, but opened it. Her eyes widened. “Master Kyle! You really shouldn’t have!” She ran her finger over the teardrop-shaped emerald earrings. Green was her favorite color, which I knew well. I’d always wanted to do something like this for her, but I’d somehow never gotten around to it. I had a feeling I wouldn’t make it another year without telling my parents about myself, so I wanted to make sure she got it before I lost contact.

  “Well, I did. You’ll just have to take them.”

  She shook her head at me. “Am I supposed to wear them while I do laundry?”

  I laughed. “Tell me you can’t get Mr. Pablo to take you out to dinner?”

  She grinned. “Well, I probably can. I’ll tell him he has to now so I can wear them.”

  “There you go. Merry Christmas, Miss Anna. Now, I have to go face
them.” I made a face and she tsked at me, pinching a cheek.

  “Don’t talk about your parents like that, Master Kyle,” she scolded me, but that twinkle was back and I knew she didn’t really mean it. She understood what kind of relationship we had. I was pretty sure that was why she took care of me the way she did.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said, beaming. She rolled her eyes and pinched my cheek again.

  “Go on with you. I’ll see you before you go.”

  I leaned in and kissed her cheek, then turned back to the ballroom. After draining the last of the champagne and setting the glass on a small table, I started across the room. I had to stop several times to greet people, but I finally made it to the other side.

  “Kyle! I’m glad you finally made it!”

  I didn’t reply to that, simply leaned in and gave my mother the air kiss she’d tilted her cheek for. “Merry Christmas, Mother.”

  “Merry Christmas, Kyle. You know William and Thomas,” she said, waving her hand to the two men who’d been ogling her.

  I nodded to them. “Merry Christmas.”

  “And to you,” Thomas said, trying to smile. William didn’t answer, though I didn’t expect him to. He gave me a half smirk, half smile, and a nod, but that was it.

  I turned back to Mother. “You’ve outdone yourself, Mother.”

  “Why, thank you,” she said, beaming. “Do tell me you have a Christmas gift for me in the form of a girlfriend.”

  I refused to sigh. “No, Mother, not yet.” I managed to force my face into the “playboy” grin. “There are just too many pretty women out there to choose yet.” I’d been playing this game so long, I knew exactly what moves to make.

  “Give the boy some time,” Thomas said, coming to my rescue. I smiled at him a little too gratefully. “He’s still young. Ought to have a chance to sample before he’s stuck with one flavor.”

  Oh God, I moaned mentally. There are some things I truly did not want to even pretend to discuss in front of my mother.

  “Women are not a buffet, Thomas!” my mother said, smacking him on the arm. He gave her a smile that was too close to a leer for my sanity. I really did not want to know which man my mother was fucking these days instead of my father.

  I spotted him, then, outside on the veranda, and leaned in to air-kiss my mother again. “I see Father. I should go say hi.”

  “We’re not done with that conversation,” she warned, and I managed my grin.

  “We won’t be done until after I say ‘I do,’ Mother, I know.”

  She laughed. “Just so you know!”

  I forced a laugh in return, nodded at Thomas and William, and made my escape. Not that my father was much better, but he, at least, didn’t keep asking me when I was getting married. I stepped through the door out into the December air, which wasn’t as cool as I would have liked. Several of the tall outdoor heaters had been set up along the railing, keeping the veranda warm.

  “Kyle!” my father called, holding out his hand toward me.

  I stepped up and valiantly fought the wince when he pounded me on the back. “Hello, Father.”

  “’Bout time you showed up,” he said, grinning.

  All of this fake family crap was going to give me a bigger headache than normal. After spending a day with Mal’s family and seeing what a real one was like, this was going to make me want to punch something—more than it usually did.

  “I’m not that late,” I said, trying not to sound petulant.

  My father waggled his eyebrows. “Bet you were having a hard time getting your latest date out of your bed.”

  No, my father wouldn’t push me to bring home someone I’d marry. Instead, he insisted on pretending he was interested in my sexual conquests, like we had it in common or something. I briefly wondered how fast the truth would wipe the smile off his face. I cleared my throat and gave my playboy smile. “A gentleman never kisses and tells.”

  He pounded me on the back again. “A boy after my own heart,” he said, turning to the man to his left. “Better keep your girl under lock and key, Jimmy.”

  My father’s best friend and business partner shook his head. “She’s already engaged, Phil,” Jimmy said, chuckling.

  I wasn’t about to tell him I knew for a fact that his daughter slept with anything that moved. And pretty much everything that wasn’t her fiancé. I might not have spent much time in my family’s social circles, but I kept up with enough so I didn’t look stupid at these things.

  Never mind the fact that I wouldn’t sleep with Jennifer Higgins if my life depended on it, and that wasn’t even because I preferred men. Even if I liked women, she’d have been the last person I’d touch. She’d been the snottiest bitch in my high school. She’d always hated Megan for “landing me” so early and had done her best to make my friend’s life hell.

  I feigned disappointment. “Who’s the lucky man?” I asked, though I knew full well. I also knew they deserved each other.

  Jimmy grinned. “Shay Collins.” I was pretty sure Jimmy actually puffed his chest out. “His father’s planning to retire early.”

  Well, Jennifer should be free to fuck around, then, if Shay’s too busy working and fucking his secretary. “Lucky him,” I said instead.

  I’m not exactly sure how I got through the next few hours, except maybe on autopilot. Mother never seated me next to them at dinner, so I was spared that and could stick with the small talk I didn’t even have to think about. After the meal, I dodged my parents as much as possible, spending some of the time in the billiard room with a few of my father’s friends. I ran into Lewis and got stuck talking to him for a while, ending up drinking an extra glass of champagne to get through the conversation. I was seriously contemplating scotch when his mother dragged him away.

  Somewhere around midnight, I started making my escape plan. I wanted to find Anna and say good-bye, then make my excuses to my parents. She caught me first, pushed a wrapped gift at me that could only be a sweater, and kissed my cheek before nudging me toward my mother’s office.

  I was grateful I wouldn’t have to look for my mother, at least. I’d found my father talking to his friends and figured he wouldn’t miss me. I slipped through the gallery, not even glancing at the old family paintings, and down the hall to the closed double door. I was a little surprised she’d be in here instead of with her guests, though I shouldn’t have been. If she was summoning me, it wasn’t good.

  I knocked softly and pushed the door open at my mother’s call. She sat behind the massive walnut desk that had been in the house for who knew how long. I suspected it was original. Her position there was definitely not a good omen.

  “You wanted to see me?” I asked, plastering a smile onto my face.

  “Have a seat,” she commanded, waving a hand toward one of the leather-covered torture devices in front of her desk. I knew for a fact these were original. And as uncomfortable as one would expect because of it.

  I sat, then spotted the gifts I’d given Anna earlier. “Oh, Anna gave them to you,” I said, pointing. She looked over and raised her eyebrows. “The long one is yours.”

  “Why, thank you Kyle. I didn’t expect this.” She almost looked pleased, and I was annoyed at the feeling I got from it, annoyed I still wanted her approval. I waited as she picked it up and tore off the gold foil paper, then opened the jewelry box. “Why, it’s lovely!” She barely looked at the sapphire and diamond necklace, but did give me a smile that was close to genuine. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, Mother. The other is for Father. He’s talking business in the library. I didn’t want to disturb him.”

  “I’ll be sure he gets it,” she said. “Did you open your envelope?”

  “Oh, I forgot about it, actually.” I pulled it out, the envelope not a business size, but shorter and slightly taller. I lifted the flap and took out what I realized was the title for my car. I blinked in surprise when I saw my name on the “owner” line. “Mother?” I asked, looking up, eyebrows raised
.

  Her lips twitched toward a smile. “Merry Christmas. I thought it would make a good gift.”

  “I… thank you, yes.” I was more than a little stunned.

  “We don’t see each other much anymore,” she said, sitting back. “So I don’t buy you much anymore.”

  That made more sense. She’d tried to give me quite a bit since I’d graduated, but I’d refused most of it. I wouldn’t use the credit accounts she’d set up for me at the clothing stores I used to shop at. I refused to use the grocery service she wanted me to—and wanted to pay for. And so on. I knew better. Everything I accepted would come with more harassment to find a wife or give up my “ridiculous job” and go work for my father. Or any number of things I wasn’t willing to do.

  I wouldn’t turn this down, though. My car in my name, free and clear, eased some of my worry. I smiled up at her. “I really appreciate this. Thank you.” I stood, hoping to escape. I hoped I might be able to hurry out and avoid whatever else it was she wanted. I was in no mood to discuss my hunt for a wife or my insistence on my chosen career, and those had been her two biggest targets lately. “Well, I have work in the morning.”

  “I do need to get back out to my guests.” She stood as well. I stifled a sigh of relief and turned to head to the door when she spoke again. “Oh, I wanted to ask you. It’s a silly rumor, but I wanted to hear your side so I could tell a few of my friends the truth.” She said it like it was an afterthought, but I knew better. This was what she’d really wanted me for.

  Shit. My heart pounded in my chest. There was only one rumor I could think of that might disturb my mother and get her to ask me for the truth. I could fuck every female in the city and she wouldn’t care. I could gamble my trust fund away and she—probably—wouldn’t bat an eye. I could spend all my pay on drugs and she’d shrug it off. This was so much worse than wives and jobs.

  I turned back around and managed a blank face. “Oh? What is that?”