by Jack Harbon
Part of him wanted to know more about the mess, but a larger, more supportive part told him that it didn’t matter. No matter how Alan was tonight, he was there to support Rex and make this whole thing just a bit more tolerable.
“Wear a button-up and some slacks, since you wanna dress all uppity for this man,” Sherleen mumbled. “Something white. You look good in white.”
Jordan blushed and reached for his favorite white dress shirt, pulling it from the hanger. He slipped into it and buttoned it all the way to the top. With a dark gray tie and his well-tailored slacks that made his butt look nice, he felt pretty damn presentable with minimal effort. This was his style, anyway. Casually dressy.
“Hey, when are you coming to see me again? I just got another recipe from Powell that I want to try out.”
Jordan rolled his eyes and flopped on his bed. “I’m not sure. Besides, you can’t keep letting this man give you his whole cookbook.”
“And why the hell not, boy?”
“You’re gonna fatten me up if you keep forcing all these treats on me!”
“Yeah, well, you could do to put a little more weight on. You’re too skinny.”
“Rex likes it,” Jordan muttered without thinking. His eyes went wide a second before Sherleen got onto his case.
“Jordan, don’t make me come over there and whoop your ass. Don’t be getting all nasty on my phone.”
Stifling his laughter, he said, “I’m sorry, Grandma, I’m sorry!” His phone vibrated on the nightstand, and when he grabbed it, he found a text letting him know that Rex was outside. “Hey, I gotta go, he’s here.”
“Alright, baby, you have fun. Call me back later. And bring your black ass over here to see me!”
“I will, I will! Love you!”
The moment the call was over, he hopped up from the bed, paused to check himself out in the mirror, and grabbed his keys from the desk in the corner of the room. He looked fine. This would be fine. It would all be fine.
“Let’s take your car,” Rex said when Jordan locked his front door behind him. “Don’t wanna get any dirt on you.” Rex reached for Jordan’s hand, raised it, and spun him around. “You clean up nice, JJ.”
The warmth of his compliment spread through Jordan like a ripple. “Whatever,” he grumbled, though he was certain that both of them knew how affected he’d been by the kind words. “You look good too, I guess.”
In the car, Rex turned to Jordan and said, “You ready for the worst dinner of your life? I think Robb and Catelyn Stark probably would’ve preferred their dinner to this one.”
“I didn’t watch your dragon show, Rex. And don’t worry. I’ve sat through plenty of awkward family dinners, and you don’t have a horse in this race. You’re here for Amy, I’m here for you. Two hours, that’s it.” He let go of the steering wheel to give the other man’s hand a firm squeeze. “Don’t sweat it.”
Rex appreciated the gesture, but only he knew the truth. He’d borne witness to just how unconscionable his father could be when he wanted to. He’d seen the trail of flames and destruction left behind while the man walked away unburned. All he could do was cross his fingers and hope that this would all be as easily digestible as his Coq au Vin.
The drive took no time at all, and as they parked, Rex glanced to his left to find his sister, father, and Georgia standing underneath the striped awning. Amy wore a simple black dress and shawl, while Georgia looked like she’d just buried her rich husband who’d died under “mysterious” circumstances. In a red gown that revealed enough cleavage to feed a village of hungry children and suited her auburn hair to perfection, Rex could’ve easily mistaken her for a Jessica Rabbit stunt double. Toss in a pair of purple gloves, and he was sure her outfit could pass as casual cosplay.
“Finally,” Alan grunted as Jordan and Rex approached. “Any reason you’re so late?” he asked his son pointedly.
“Traffic?” Rex offered. Unamused, the man shook his head and stormed into the restaurant without another word. Amy gave Rex an exasperated look while Georgia sashayed after her ex-husband.
“Hi,” Jordan said, shaking Amy’s hand. “I’m Jordan, Rex’s—”
“Little boyfriend, I know,” she said cheerfully.
“I—”
“Amy, you know he’s—”
But before she let either of them get much more than that out, she winked, turned on her heels and headed into the restaurant. Rex’s temples throbbed. Not even five minutes with the family, and he could already feel a migraine coming on.
“Sorry about Amy. She’s…”
“She’s great,” Jordan laughed. He laced his fingers through Rex’s and gave him a tug. “C’mon, ‘little boyfriend.’”
Rex groaned but allowed himself to be dragged inside. At the table, Alan and Georgia sat on opposite ends facing each other while the rest filled in the gaps, Jordan by Rex’s side. Wine and drinks came first, and it took all he had not to curl his lip in disgust as Alan made quick work cracking open a bottle of red and nearly filling his glass to the brim.
“So,” Georgia said, leaning forward to expose more of her chest. “What’ve you been up to, Alan? Anything exciting?”
“No.”
Rex was unfazed, but the man’s curt response seemed to shock Georgia. She blinked quickly, caught off guard, but recovered with ease. “That’s too bad. I’ve been quite busy with work. It’s hard to find time to date, but I’ve found a way to make that work as well.”
Rex shot Amy a look, and she shook her head once. A lie.
It all became clear, just like that. As much as she wanted closure, more than anything, Georgia wanted to show him that she wasn’t just another disposable woman in his life. A notch in his overpriced imported headboard. She didn’t need him. The only issue was that Rex doubted Alan would even give a damn.
“Congratulations,” Alan said, tapping away on his phone without looking up. “What’s taking the waiters so long?” he asked loud enough to draw attention from the staff. Immediately, a man came hurrying over, vehemently apologizing for not being there sooner.
“Can I start you off with anything? Any appetizers?” the man asked in an accent Rex considered a little too put on to be authentically French.
As the rest of them ordered, Jordan flipped through his menu, trying to find something that he could say out loud without embarrassing himself. Mispronouncing an entrée during a Meet Cute Club outing was one thing, but something told him Rex’s father wouldn’t be all too pleased to hear him butcher the language of love.
“I’ll have the beef bourguignon,” he said simply, handing over his menu.
“Fantastic! I’ll have that out for you soon.”
Alan snorted. “Hopefully faster than it took to get some service.”
The server’s face flushed as red as the wine in Alan’s glass, and he excused himself, hurrying off to the kitchen. Jordan’s adrenaline spiked despite the stillness of his body. Apathy was one thing, but being rude to waiters and embarrassing them like that? That was as tacky as the diamond-encrusted watch on Alan’s wrist.
The conversation while they ate was light, and Jordan watched as Georgia did her best to put on a brave face. He could see the tiny cracks in her armor; the way her face sank every time she waited for some kind of praise that never came, or how her confident smile fell the moment Alan busied himself with his meal or his phone.
It was like watching a soap opera live, only he couldn’t find any kind of pleasure in the melodrama. These were real people, and though he might not have cared about all of them equally, it still felt wrong to be amused by Georgia’s desperation, or the way Amy picked at her salad uncomfortably, never once actually taking a bite.
Even Rex’s snappy wit was temporarily neutered, his tail between his legs as he listened to his father go on and on about work and how well stocks were doing. Jordan could only stare at the scene unfolding with genuine sadness, like every dynamic in the family was broken and Rex was the only one honest enough to talk
about it.
“You know,” Georgia started, another fake smile on her face, “I’m so glad we got to have this dinner together, actually. I think it’s so mature that we can—”
Alan’s shrill ringtone cut her sentence short, and he held a finger up, excusing himself from the table without acknowledging that she’d just been talking. Once he was out of earshot, Georgia turned to Amy.
“I’m trying,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Amy placed a thin hand on top of her mother’s and rubbed her knuckles tenderly.
“I know, Mom.”
“He’s just making it so hard.”
“You should’ve known,” Rex said under his breath.
“Rex,” Amy hissed, shooting him a deadly glare.
Georgia sat back in her chair. “He’s right. I should’ve known that this would happen. I guess… I guess I just thought that maybe he’d show some kind of…anything, really. It’s like he’s completely cut off his feelings for me, even the bad ones. I thought I could at least get a rise out of him. Some kind of sign that he still cares, even a little bit.”
Jordan wanted to offer Georgia some kind of consolation, but rather than reaching out the same way Amy did, he silently picked at his plate, giving her somber eyes that he hoped communicated everything he was feeling.
Alan returned a few moments later, a wide smile on his face. “Sorry about that,” he said, looking around at all of them. “Jennifer.”
“Who’s Jennifer?” Georgia asked.
“Oh, I didn’t tell anyone? Jennifer’s the woman I’ve started seeing. Gorgeous, blonde, probably just graduated.”
“Hopefully college and not high school,” Rex said.
Alan’s eyes slid to Rex with unfiltered disdain. “Of course it’s college.”
“You didn’t tell me you were seeing anyone.” Georgia’s voice was soft, frail and wavering. It was as if all the gusto from her performance before had been drained. She dropped the air of confidence and stared at Alan with genuine hurt dancing on the brim of her eyes.
“I just did,” he said, shrugging.
“Jesus,” Jordan whispered. He hadn’t meant to say anything, especially about something this personal. Sherleen had always taught him to stay out of other people’s business, particularly when it came to relationships, but he couldn’t help the shock that escaped him listening to how callous Alan was.
“I can’t believe you,” Georgia said.
“You’re the one that was just bragging about all the men you’re sleeping with, sweetheart. You can’t believe me?” Alan looked around, waiting for someone to agree with him. What he found was three sets of downcast eyes and the sound of other customers’ conversations. “Now I’m the bad guy?” he laughed incredulously.
“No,” Georgia said, wiping tears from her eyes. “I’m just a goddamn idiot.” She forcefully pushed herself from the table and took off towards the bathroom, hands covering her face.
“Mom, wait!” Amy stood up and chased after her, leaving only the men sitting around the table in a semi-circle. The weight of silence pushed down on Jordan like a hydraulic press, and he shifted in his seat uncomfortably.
Rex, however, was never one to hold back his thoughts, and he simply stared at his father with a humorless smirk.
“What?” Alan asked irritably.
“You know what.”
The older man sighed and shook his head. “One day, you’ll get tired of hating the man that gave you everything you have in life. It must be utterly exhausting.”
“Not particularly,” Rex said with a shrug. “It’s pretty damn easy, honestly. I mean, I can’t do it as easily as you can walk away from all of your responsibilities, but I manage.”
“Please, I’ve given you nothing but the best, Rhett.”
“I’m not talking about just me. I’m talking about you not being there for Amy. I’m talking about me having to clean up your mother’s house because you were too busy to do it yourself. I’m talking about you having to be convinced to go to Nana’s fucking funeral.”
Jordan’s stomach clenched hard, and he placed his hand on Rex’s knee, a subtle reminder to try to keep calm. While it wasn’t his place to tell these two not to do this, he also knew Rex. He knew his temper, and though he’d never seen him get this heated, there was an electricity to it that he recognized.
“I’m not going to sit here and be insulted over a dinner I’m paying for.”
“I have a fucking job, Alan. I don’t need anything from you.”
“What, that pathetic little part-time bookstore gig? What’re you going to do when that falls through and you get bored of it? Skip town and wander the country like you did before? You talk about me running from my responsibilities, but what about you? You’ll leave like you always do. Homeless by the end of the year. And when you are, don’t expect me to bail you out again or give you any money,” Alan spat, leaning forward so that he could lower his voice and still get the point across.
“What you seem to forget is that I don’t depend on you anymore,” Rex said through gritted teeth. “You waving your money around won’t work on me anymore. Nobody here needs you to pay for anything. You don’t get to throw it back in our faces and use our desperation as a way to get us in line. And when you’re all alone with your money, you can buy all the fancy cars and stupid ass watches, but you’ll still die by yourself, and frankly, I wouldn’t wish spending eternity with you on anyone. Not even you.”
Alan smiled back with that same angry grin, and Jordan could see how alike they were. Where he’d gotten it from. Watching them go at it was like Rex fighting with a twisted carnival mirror. As different as they appeared, there were similarities that proved they were undeniably linked together.
“Enjoy your dinner,” was all Alan said. He rose from his seat, tossed his napkin on his plate, and strode out of the room without even looking back.
Jordan tried to swallow down a gulp of his wine but it turned his stomach. He’d thought Rex was being hyperbolic, but after having met the man, he really should’ve taken his verdict far more seriously. “Dick” didn’t even begin to cover all that Alan was.
Jordan reached out for Rex, and to his surprise, Rex didn’t pull away from him. He turned to face him, offering a hopeful look. “I’m fine. It’s fine.”
But Jordan knew it wasn’t, and judging from the way their conversation had gone, it probably wouldn’t ever be fine.
Twelve
Dinner didn’t last much longer after Alan’s departure. Rex lost his appetite, and when Georgia and Amy returned from the bathroom, Jordan could see that Rex wasn’t the only one. Amy, bless her heart, tried to keep the mood up, but the moment Georgia found out that Alan had left without so much as a goodbye, it was obvious that dinner was officially over.
Amy’s shoulders sank, and she sat back in her chair, arms folded across her chest. She waited for Georgia to head outside before she said, “I think I might hate him, Rex.”
Despite the rage bubbling inside of him, he managed to offer her a sympathetic nod. “I know, Ames. He’s the worst.”
“Why come here when we could’ve just eaten the rich,” Jordan said. Amy and Rex laughed quietly, but still, the sour mood persisted.
“Let’s get out of here,” Rex said finally, tossing his napkin on his plate of lobster and standing from his seat. Neither of the other two needed to be told twice. After Amy and Rex shared a long hug, Jordan followed Rex back to the car.
The ride back was uncomfortably quiet, but Jordan filled the silence humming along to the radio. Throwing occasional glances in Rex’s direction, Jordan could see that he wasn’t in a good mood, but he didn’t know what to say. He wanted to cheer him up somehow, make him laugh or take his focus off his father, but these kinds of things often ran deeper than a simple joke could repair.
Outside of Nana Bailey’s house, Jordan pecked him on the lips and said, “Have a good night, okay?”
Rex nodded without much enthusiasm. “Sure.” Jorda
n started to head back to his car when Rex caught his arm. “Hey,” he said. “You, uh…you wanna stay the night?”
From Rex’s demeanor, Jordan knew that he probably needed him there more than he would ever actually say, and before he even had a chance to consider it, he said, “Of course.” With the night they’d had, he couldn’t imagine saying no to Rex. After all the shit Rex had been there for when it came to Jordan’s personal life, it was only fair.
Inside, the two of them made quick work of removing their clothes and getting ready for bed. They climbed into the shower together, this time actually managing to clean each other without touching longer than necessary. While Jordan spent some time detangling his hair and moisturizing, Rex slipped on his underwear and headed to the bedroom.
Jordan swiped a small circle in the fog and faintly smiled at his reflection. This was the first night he’d ever spent with Rex, and something about that made his stomach do one of its tiny little flips. Rather than mulling over that feeling, he finished detangling and, to his surprise, found a leave-in conditioner that was close enough to his own at home.
Stepping out of the foggy, humid bathroom and flicking off the light, Jordan found Rex lying flat on his stomach in bed, tapping away at his phone. He wore only a small pair of black boxer briefs, and even though his face was turned away, Jordan still admired how effortlessly handsome he looked.
Quietly, he climbed across the bed and straddled Rex, placing his hands on the man’s shoulders. “What are you doing?” Rex asked, looking back at him.
“You look tense.” Jordan pressed his thumbs deep, massaging Rex’s shoulders with what he hoped was enough pressure. Rex, clearly enjoying the impromptu massage, put his phone down and let his head fall to the mattress.
“That feels good,” he said quietly, his voice coming out in a groan.
Jordan smiled. “Good.”
As he worked his hands lower down Rex’s body, he leaned forward to press kisses to his shoulders and the back of his neck. Rex smelled fresh, like he’d spent time lathering up his body wash to rid himself of their dinner with Alan. Like he’d scrubbed himself clean of all that negativity.