Romance Redefined

by SJD Peterson

  She held out her arms, and I went to give her a dutiful hug. A cloud of flowery fragrance engulfed me more powerfully than her dainty embrace. “We won’t quarrel this time.” Mother made a kissing sound near my cheek. “Absolutely not.”

  “We’ll see how that goes, considering it was you who started the fight last time,” I said, battling to keep the familiar annoyance out of my voice.

  “Never look to place blame, dear. It’s ungentlemanly.” Her expression was one of indifference as she waved a dismissive hand, the same gesture I’d witnessed her give “the help” on numerous occasions. “Besides, I absolutely refuse to get upset today.”

  Thirty seconds in and she was already working hard to get under my skin. I refused to give her the satisfaction of knowing she was getting to me. I was exhausted from my long trip, and sleep and peace were my only concern. The quickest way to achieve that was to keep my mouth shut and let her do the talking.

  “Come, let’s have a chat.” She gracefully lowered herself onto the sofa and patted the spot next to her. “You must be terribly surprised that I’ve decided to marry Charles.”

  “I’m very happy for you.” I covered my mouth and stifled a yawn.

  “You know, Ben, I’ve been foolish to make Charles wait so long. I’m glad I’ve finally made up my mind to go ahead. And that brings us to the subject of you and Hugh.”

  “Here it comes,” I said under my breath. The tension instantly kicked into high gear. Another mother-and-son fight was imminent.

  Mary Grace settled back in a corner of the sofa. She brushed a delicate hand over her chiffon skirt and then folded her hands in her lap. She completely ignored my obvious discomfort. “I want to know how you’ve reacted to seeing Hugh,” she said. “Let’s be frank, dear. Don’t tell me the experience didn’t affect you.”

  I struggled with another surge of annoyance. “Mother, how many times do I have to tell you it’s over between Hugh and me? I didn’t appreciate you sending him to New York to tell me about the wedding. A simple phone call would have sufficed.”

  Mary Grace shrugged one shoulder. “I just think you ought to get your feelings out in the open. Let’s be honest. You can’t deny that Hugh is someone special.”

  Usually when Mary Grace said “Let’s be honest,” it meant that she wanted other people to be honest, leaving her free to pass judgments and proffer advice. It was particularly irritating when the subject turned to Hugh.

  I stood abruptly and went to stare out the window. The lawns were expertly manicured and, in my opinion, as cold and as uninviting as the ballroom. Everything was too perfect, untouched, as if no one ever strolled across them. Mother had tried to do the same to me, clean me up, put me on display to be appreciated and envied like her Louis XVI china. A crack in that perfection had formed when I told her I was gay. However, when Mary Grace had learned of Hugh’s sexuality, she was hell-bent on seeing us together, to form an alliance. That was how the Winthrop family viewed it all those years ago—an alliance, not a romance. Two of the wealthiest families in Charleston united, her social status taking a hit but not destroyed. It was why she wouldn’t be satisfied until she accomplished a reestablishment of that alliance.

  I turned away from the window and faced her again. “Mother, you have to stop. You have to accept the truth about Hugh and me. It’s over.”

  Now Mary Grace assumed a philosophical air. “You’re just kicking up your heels a little, that’s all. You never had a chance to be on your own before you settled down with Hugh, so you’re doing it now. You just have to get it out of your system.”

  “I’m not getting something out of my system, as you so politely put it. I’m building a life for myself.”

  “One you’re quite mysterious about, if I do say so. What do you do, Benson? I’m aware you haven’t touched any of the funds in your accounts. How on earth do you support yourself?”

  I refused to answer that question. My family wouldn’t understand or approve of me working in a restaurant, living in a dive, or my aspirations to be an actor. I wasn’t doing anything “expected” of someone of my breeding, and I secretly enjoyed the hell out of it.

  “Mother, I’m doing just fine. You don’t have to worry about me.”

  “Well, I do worry.” Mary Grace gazed at me in consternation. “I always hoped that you and Hugh would discover the joys of parenthood together. That would’ve anchored you, given you purpose. And Hugh would be a wonderful father.”

  “Unlike me, right?” My voice tight as I struggled to get my anger under control.

  Mary Grace paused, apparently considering her words carefully. “Benson, please do not put words in my mouth. I don’t understand where all this hostility is coming from.”

  “It’s not hostility, Mother. It’s frustration. I’m a grown man and yet you still insist on treating me like a child.” I sighed. This was an old argument that couldn’t be won. I sat next to my mother and patted her hand. “Look, I didn’t come all this way to fight with you. This is your time. Let’s talk about plans for the wedding. I will be happy to help in any way.”

  And with that, Mary Grace’s demeanor changed. I had no silly notions that her meddling would stop, but I was getting a reprieve while she focused on her plans. “I’m so glad to know that, dear, because you’re going to be a big part of the ceremony. You and Hugh both, that is. You see, Hugh is going to be the best man, and you’re going to be my maid, or rather, son of honor!”

  “What? You can’t be serious.”

  “I would never jest about this.” Mary Grace sniffed haughtily.

  “Why in the world wouldn’t you ask Anne Louise? She’s been your best friend for years.”

  “And I’ve known you your entire life. Please do this for me, Benson. It would mean the world to me. Is it so difficult for you to believe that I would want my only child at my side on such a special day?”

  And how in the hell could I argue with that statement?

  I couldn’t.

  A HOT shower wasn’t enough to calm me down. I was too keyed up for sleep and decided to take a walk through the grove that marked the end of Winthrop property. The Bayard property began on the other side of the trees. For decades, the Winthrops and the Bayards had been neighbors, the two families united in physical proximity, as well as in purpose and outlook. I’d always considered the grove between the two estates as a sort of no-man’s land, belonging to neither of the families. It had often been my refuge. A place I could come to, to be away from the combined demands of the Winthrops and Bayards.

  “Hello, Benny.”

  Startled, I spun around to find Hugh on the other side of the trees. “Jesus Christ, Hugh, would you stop sneaking up on me!”

  He walked toward me, and dammit, I wasn’t sure if my pulse was racing from being startled or anticipation. “I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s not like I was trying to be quiet. Besides, I was hoping you would be here.”

  “Why?” And why did my belly flip-flop? And goddamn it, why did it excite me to no end that Hugh wanted to see me? I had thought I’d put those ridiculous feelings behind me.

  “Just wanted to see how things went with your mother.”

  I frowned. “I suppose you already know she has given me the absurd title of ‘son of honor.’ I swear.”

  “I think it was sweet of her.”

  “And I suppose you think being named best man is sweet too?”

  “I’m honored. It means a lot to me that she included me in her wedding.”

  “Yeah, well, good for you. If I had half a brain, I’d refuse.”

  “So, tell her you don’t want to do it,” Hugh said.

  “She’s my mother. Do you know the hell I’ll go through if I told her no? Besides, I tried. She laid the guilt card.”

  Hugh nodded. That damn teasing smile grew. “Looks like we’ll be seeing a lot of each other, then.”

  I ran my hands through my hair and tucked the longish strands behind my ears. I needed a haircut. I’d never been a
fan of long hair on a man, but between work, acting classes, and auditions, I hadn’t had time, nor the funds, to be hitting the salon. Then again, I supposed it didn’t matter how I wore my hair. Mother had always looked at me as someone frail who needed to be taken care of because of my smaller stature. She still didn’t get the concept that big things came in small packages, like dynamite. But whatever. I was stuck with the role of son of honor as well as having to deal with Hugh.

  “How about we try not to get in each other’s way.”

  “If that’s what you want,” Hugh said flatly.

  “Look, I’m not trying to be a dick. I just think it would be better if we focus on the task at hand, and no more of this coming to look for me. How’d you know I’d be here, anyway?”

  For once, Hugh appeared at a loss. He didn’t say anything for a moment. When at last he did speak, it surprised me. “I do you know a little, Benny. You come out here whenever you have a lot on your mind, usually after you’ve had a run-in with your mother.” He glanced around the area, a sly smile forming. “Hey, isn’t this where I first kissed you?”

  “I don’t know, is it?” I asked, even though I knew it was. I was shocked that Hugh would remember.

  “Come to think of it, I think it was you who kissed me. I was doing my best to convince you I was much too old for you, but you were determined to show me otherwise.”

  Old memories drifted over me. The way my stomach had tightened and my entire body tingled with that first brush of lips. That first taste of Hugh set me on a path that was nearly impossible to tread. Like an alcoholic, once addicted always addicted, but that didn’t mean I had to give in to that need. I’d fallen off the wagon, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t jump right back on and move forward. “What’s up with the stroll down memory lane? How about we leave the past in the past, shall we, hmm?”

  Hugh studied me with a look of purpose in his eyes. I refused to back down. I held his gaze with a hard one of my own. I don’t know if Hugh misread my resolve or simply ignored it, but the next thing I knew, my back was pressed against a tree. Hugh was standing very close to me now, too close. I should have shoved him or walked away, but I did neither. I stood there, scarcely breathing.

  Hugh raised his hand and ran his thumb gently over my bottom lip. “I remember that kiss. You were inexperienced, but your enthusiasm made up for it. I remember wanting more,” he said, his voice husky. “You made me wait two years.”

  Hugh continued his light, seductive caress, and my eyes fluttered closed. Of course, I remembered the first kiss, every kiss and touch and look. I’d been crazy about Hugh. I’d been nineteen years old when Hugh made love to me for the first time. It had been as if I was waiting for that moment all my life. I was so impatient to have him, and Hugh taught me all the secrets of my body well. How could I have known then that Hugh would become like a drug? A seductive, consuming drug. One I was still addicted to.

  “When I made love to you in New York, it was like the first time, wasn’t it, Benny?”

  It had been better than the first time, and that was the problem. Our passion had been all the more intense for its familiarity. I needed more from Hugh than physical passion. Far more.

  I forced myself to open my eyes and move away. “Don’t do this,” I told him with an unsteady voice. I cringed at how weak I sounded. I may have craved Hugh’s touch, his kiss, his warmth, but that didn’t mean I had to give in to the need. Hugh was bad for my sanity. Dammit, I could resist Hugh. I had to. I cleared my throat and, in a stronger voice, said, “I’m not doing this.” I meant it. With my resolve once again firmly in place, I turned and walked away.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  LIGHT FROM chandeliers glittered on the marble floors and gilded mirrors and the brightly painted ceilings and intricately carved wall panels. The Ashbury mansion in Charleston was far grander than the house I’d grown up in. A hundred years ago, a wealthy society matron named Eva Ashbury had thrown lavish parties here in her efforts to outdo other wealthy society matrons. This evening’s gathering was an echo of those splendid affairs. The house now belonged to friends of my mother, and they’d spared no expense in celebrating her impending marriage. At one end of the room, a chamber orchestra played. At the other end, tables had been laden with succulent appetizers.

  I wandered along the fringes of the party, sipping a glass of champagne and trying to blend into the backdrop. I’d never been a fan of pompous parties or those who have to flaunt their excessive wealth. Besides, I simply wasn’t in the mood to socialize. My ill mood couldn’t entirely be blamed on the uppity partygoers or the tight suit jacket or strangling tie. No, it was the way Hugh kept looking at me that was really keeping me on edge. I swore I saw a hint of mockery in Hugh’s dark eyes, even from a distance. The infuriating thing was, I couldn’t help but continue to glance at Hugh, and each time he caught me. The rush of warmth through my body had nothing to do with alcohol and everything to do with the damn sly grin on his face.

  My mother came up next to me. “Having a good time, dear?”

  “Just wonderful. It’s quite the party.”

  “Yes, it was so good of them to host such a wonderful event for Charles and me. Wonderful indeed.”

  Mary Grace was her usual immaculate self—hair perfectly waved, makeup expertly applied. With her usual air of superiority, she glanced about the crowded room. I wanted to cringe or laugh or just get the hell out of there. Of course, being the glutton for punishment that I am, I stood there sipping my champagne, wishing time would speed up.

  “Ah, there’s Hugh,” Mother said in a too-innocent voice. “He looks particularly dashing tonight, don’t you think, Benson?”

  Unfortunately, I agreed. Hugh’s masculine, broad-shouldered frame looked especially attractive in the slate-gray jacket he wore. He exuded confidence, and like a moth to a flame, it drew me in. I turned away, not trusting myself any longer.

  “Mother, how about we talk about the decorations or the amazing-looking food, anything besides Hugh?”

  Mary Grace’s expression was one I’d witnessed numerous times, hell, nearly on a daily basis when I was growing up. She wasn’t impressed by my behavior but wouldn’t make a scene to save her life. “Benson, please try to act appropriately. I was merely going to point out that you should give him a chance. I’m quite certain he wishes reconciliation with you.”

  Trust Mary Grace to disregard reality completely. Still, I found myself glancing at Hugh again. By now, a few couples were dancing, and Hugh was among them. He was executing a waltz with a striking blonde woman I didn’t know. I tried to ignore the green-eyed monster that rose in me, and tried even harder to convince myself it didn’t matter who Hugh danced with.

  Several friends approached Mary Grace, giving me the opportunity to escape. I went out to the balcony, leaned against the railing, and stared over the landscape. The evening had deepened into night. The noise of the party was subdued here, and I took my first full breath since arriving at the estate.

  “You have a habit of running away, Benny.”

  “Go away,” I said without turning around to face Hugh.

  Of course, he didn’t heed my warning, choosing to crowd my personal space. He took a deep breath. “Beautiful night.”

  “I guess, and for your information, I’m not running away. I just don’t like this type of party. Too many people.”

  “Too many of the wrong people, you mean,” Hugh said, leaning in even closer.

  In some ways, Hugh knew me very well. Too well. “I’ve never really belonged in this world,” I said, gesturing to include the ornate mansion and the expansive grounds. “Everything’s on such a grandiose scale. I prefer things small and manageable. But you belong in this world, Hugh. You’re very comfortable in it.”

  “And that gives you one more reason to despise me,” Hugh said. The light spilling from the ballroom revealed the hard lines of his face.

  “I don’t despise you. Believe it or not, I’ve gone on with my life. I have
n’t spent every minute thinking about you.” That wasn’t entirely the truth. I’d spent a lot of time over the past year thinking about Hugh, much to my irritation.

  Hugh studied me intently. “Tell me about this life of yours in New York City.”

  I wasn’t comfortable talking to Hugh, or anyone in my family for that matter, about my life in New York. It wasn’t only that I knew they would dismiss my dreams as absurd and far-fetched. I was a realist. I knew how far-fetched they were. I didn’t need a dose of Hugh’s cynical realism. But beyond that, New York was mine, and sharing it with them would tarnish it. “I’m happy,” I finally said. “That’s all you need to know.”

  “From what I can tell, you’ve carved out a lonely place for yourself. Is that how you want it? No family around, no friends?”

  “Isn’t it wonderful that my life has changed so little when it comes to that aspect?”

  “That’s unfair.”

  “But no less true.” I took a deep breath to calm myself, but it was no use.

  “It wasn’t just about my working too much. You always behaved as if you were jealous of anyone or anything that took me away from you.”

  A twinge of guilt churned my gut. Hugh was right, I had been jealous, but dammit, I had good reason. “Maybe if you’d really been in love with me, maybe then I wouldn’t have had to feel that way.”

  “Your idea of love is completely unrealistic. You expected us to be enthralled with each other twenty-four hours a day. Fairy tales are great when you’re curled up with your books, but this is the real world, Ben. I’m just a man, not Prince Charming.” Hugh sounded impatient. This was fine with me, considering I was impatient for this conversation to be over.

  “Well put,” I said snidely. “Except that I’m no longer asking you to be enthralled. You’re free.”

  “It’s not as simple as that.” Hugh turned and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close.