Men of Halfway House 01 - A Better Man (DA) (MM)

by Jaime Reese

  "You can park over there where my brother's car is," Matt directed.

  Julian drove his six-year-old Dodge Ram truck and parked it next to the Bentley Continental GTC. Just because he couldn't afford the damn thing didn't mean he didn't know what it was. As if that wasn't bad enough, he saw a Rolls-Royce Phantom parked in the garage getting wiped down by someone. Driver, probably? He didn't want to know.

  He turned off the engine and looked over to Matt. He had the worry crease in the middle of his eyebrows as he looked over to the house.

  "Hey, you okay?" Julian asked.

  "Um, yeah, I guess," Matt muttered.

  "It's going to be fine."

  Matt gave a nervous laugh. "There's a reason I haven't come out to them." He closed his eyes and rested his head back against the headrest.

  "Do you want to keep hiding it?" Julian asked.

  "No," Matt calmly responded.

  "Do you want them to keep pushing your buttons, keep getting pissed off because you are hiding the halfway house too?"

  "I see your point," Matt responded, looking over to him. "Thanks for coming with me." He reached over to place his hand on Julian's thigh. "I really need to just have you by my side tonight."

  "I'm here. If you need me to punch someone out or something, just say the word," Julian teased.

  Matt laughed. "Nah, I'm good. Let's get this over with," he said as they both got out of the truck.

  Julian walked up to the house with Matt, making sure to keep a safe friend distance between them. No sense letting the cat out of the bag before Matt made his announcement.

  The housekeeper opened the door.

  "Hello, Lucia," Matt greeted her with an embrace.

  "Hola, Matthew," she responded with a warm smile. "I have missed you very much."

  "This is Julian," he said as they walked into the house. "He's a friend of mine."

  "Nice to meet you," she said politely with a knowing smile.

  "Pleasure, ma'am," Julian responded.

  She directed them to a room where muffled voices echoed. The house's interior was as impressive as the outside. As Julian passed the spiral staircase, the mural walls, marble flooring, and gold accents, one thing became blazingly clear to him—this was not the real Matt. He may have been raised in this house, but Matt's true self had not been cultured in this shell. This was a museum, not a home. It was a status symbol, polished with the finest materials and trimmings money could buy.

  "Hello, darling," said the woman with the pearls and perfectly pressed dress to match her perfectly styled hair.

  "Hello, Mom."

  Julian watched as Matt dutifully bent and pecked his mother's cheek. She looked over to Julian, assessing him with obvious disapproval. She glanced back at Matt and straightened his tie.

  "Darling, a dress shirt and tie is not appropriate attire for a dinner," she scolded.

  "It's just us for dinner, Mom." Matt turned toward him. "Mom, this is Julian, he's a friend of mine," he said, smiling.

  Julian walked up to her and extended his hand in greeting.

  She placed her hand on her chest and looked at his as if it were covered in some radioactive substance.

  He tried to ignore the way she snubbed him and simply responded as he thought he should. "Pleasure to meet you, ma'am." He retracted his hand.

  Matt looked over at him, his smile gone. He mouthed the word 'sorry'.

  They turned as new people entered the room. A young man with an attractive woman by his side and an older gentleman. Julian guessed this was Alex and his fiancée along with Matt's dad. They were laughing, obviously at the tail end of a conversation that must have started in the other room. They saw Matt and Julian and immediately came over to greet them.

  "Hey, Matt," Alex said with a hug and back slap.

  His fiancée welcomed Matt with a smile and a kiss on the cheek.

  Matt's father gave a quick hug and a "Hi, Son."

  Julian wasn't sure what to do or what was expected so he simply stayed exactly where he was until directed otherwise.

  "This is Julian, he's a friend," Matt said, bringing on a spotlight of attention.

  Matt placed his hand on his father's shoulder and looked at Julian. "This is my dad."

  Matt's father stepped forward and extended his hand in greeting.

  "Pleasure to meet you, sir," Julian responded with a firm handshake.

  "This is Alex, my brother," Matt introduced, "and his fiancée, Lindy."

  "Hi there," Alex said with a wave.

  Lindy gave Julian a peck on the cheek and quietly whispered, "Bet they gave you shit about not wearing a suit?"

  She retreated with a bold smile and Julian couldn't help but smile right back. He liked her. She obviously didn't share the same mold as Matt's family.

  After a few moments of awkward silence, another person appeared in the room from the right to make an announcement. "Dinner is served."

  Seriously? A fucking butler?

  It was such a cliché, something straight out of a Beverly Hills movie. The large formal dining room table, pristinely decorated with candelabras and gold fixtures. Each place setting with more silver polished utensils than courses Julian could think to eat. He casually looked up at the vaulted ceilings only to discover another mural of angels and heavenly images, no doubt an attempt to mimic the Sistine Chapel.

  Everyone took their designated seats at the table, with Matt signaling Julian to sit next to him, which he gladly did. Julian noticed Matt was unusually quiet, as if intentionally trying to avoid any attention. He seemed uncomfortable, the pallor of his skin a clear indicator he was worried, maybe even anxious. Julian casually reached under the table and gently rubbed Matt's thigh, not to arouse, more hoping to provide a little comfort.

  Matt closed his eyes and took a deep breath. After a few seconds, he opened his eyes and looked over to Julian with a hint of a smile and a little more color on his face. "Thanks," he whispered.

  Julian responded with a ghost of a smile only Matt would recognize and immediately looked around, thankful no one had noticed their brief exchange.

  Everyone seemed to be in their own little world. Alex and Lindy were the most animated, talking about wedding plans, flowers, and all kinds of other shit Julian didn't care about. Matt's father quietly sat at the table eating his dinner, trying to avoid the discussion as much as Matt. He was obviously a man of few words. The plastic lady with the pearls intently listened to the wedding plans and occasionally looked over to Matt.

  "Darling, sit up straight," she scolded Matt as if he were a child.

  What the fuck? This was all surreal. The way his mother spoke to him, chastised Matt—all in an effort to humiliate him—was ridiculous. There was no mistaking her intentions. The plastic bitch's mission was to make Matt miserable, to make him feel like shit.

  Julian's anger began to rise. He became restless, his leg jumping. Matt had briefly given him a heads up of what Julian could expect, but actually seeing the roles in action made him twitch. He hated this. Hated to see the way these people treated Matt, the way he was discarded, ignored. Knowing Matt and his good heart, he probably thought it was appropriate to grin and bear it, tolerate it for the sake of respect of authority, of his parents, and what family was supposed to mean. He wasn't sure how normal families were expected to behave, but he was sharp enough to know this was wrong. It was all wrong.

  Matt's father didn't say a word. He just sat there, ate his dinner, and occasionally looked over to Matt. Matt tried to keep his head down as much as possible. He was miserable. Julian just wanted to grab him, throw him over his shoulder, and take him out of this toxic environment.

  Suddenly Matt's mother clasped her hands together and smiled. "That is wonderful, honey." She beamed. "Did you hear that, sweetheart?" she asked her husband.

  Matt's father finally looked up and raised his eyebrows, probably hoping they'd repeat what he had missed.

  The plastic lady was obviously peeved he'd been ignoring t
he conversation. "They are having the wedding at the Regal Country Club. Isn't that fantastic?" she asked.

  Matt's father simply smiled, with effort.

  These family dynamics were odd. Alex seemed to be pushing for approval, Lindy looked as if she was forcing a smile, Matt's father looked as miserable as Matt.

  Julian was most concerned with the change in Matt's demeanor. Matt's nostrils began to flare and he clenched his jaw. His breathing was steady, but it was obviously a controlled effort. Matt grabbed Julian's hand underneath the table. Their fingers entwined and Julian felt Matt's strong hold. He was tense, anxious, probably about to lose it.

  "Mom, Dad," Matt began, breaking into the conversation. "There's something I need to tell you."

  If the look on her face after Matt's interruption was any indication, this was the last thing the plastic lady was going to want to happen at her perfectly pristine dinner party.

  "Well? What is it?" Matt's mother said, obviously irritated.

  He looked over to Matt and waited for his announcement. Matt had practiced it endlessly since his decision to come clean with his parents. He practiced in bed, looking in the mirror, over dinner, in the car, everywhere, all the time. He looked hesitant, his Adam's apple bobbed, and he looked around the table as he squeezed Julian's hand tighter. Julian followed his line of sight to Matt's brother. Alex looked worried, probably guessing what the announcement would be. Julian knew Matt was replaying all the lines in his head, trying to make sure they came out perfectly.

  "We don't have all night, Matthew," Matt's mother said.

  Julian looked over and saw Matt visibly deflate. Maybe not noticeably to his family, but Matt's mother's disregard obviously stung.

  "Mom, this is my partner Julian. We work together. We live together. Mom, Dad, I love him. I'm gay," Matt said in a spill of words.

  Um, so not how he had practiced it.

  Matt then sat back and looked straight ahead as if bracing himself for the fallout. Instead, there was a pregnant silence in the room.

  A few moments later, Matt's mother said something to discard his announcement with a wave of her hand in the air. He could see her actions in his periphery, but he was more focused on Matt who blindly stared forward.

  "It's not a joke, Mom," Matt said and tugged their entwined hands, placing them on top of the table—literally, on one of the empty silver platters for his mother to see on display. Matt instantly looked over to Julian after realization of his action struck. He tried to pull their hands off the table but there was no way Julian would let that plastic lady win this fight. This was Matt's time to do what he needed to do and there was no way Julian was going to be anywhere but right there, by his side.

  The plastic lady was pissed. She hid it well but her eyes were shooting daggers across at Matt. "This is no cause for obscene displays—"

  "We're holding hands, Mom," Matt said in a defeated tone.

  "Evidently prison has caused more problems than we thought. I'll organize a visit to Dr. Schreiber—"

  "I don't need to see a freaking psychiatrist—"

  When the hell was Matt seeing a shrink?

  "Matthew!" his dad said forcefully.

  Both Matt and Julian immediately looked over to Matt's father who had been silent the entire time. He shook his head but Julian didn't know him well enough to know if that was code for quit while you're ahead or show some respect. Either way, the message was clear—just stop.

  She called over to the butler who swooshed into the room from out of nowhere, took his orders, then magically appeared standing next to Julian. Seriously, he'd have to put a bell around the man's neck to be able to follow his ghost movements. A brief second later, Julian felt a hand on his shoulder. Matt's mother wanted Julian out of the house.

  Julian felt the anger boiling inside. It took every ounce of effort to sit still and appear as if he were unfazed. He wanted to take that boney man's hand and rip it off for having the nerve to attempt to touch him to extract him from the table.

  "J isn't going anywhere," Matt said instantly as he bolted up from his seat trying to stare down the butler. Julian remained seated, stewing in his anger as that boney hand remained gently placed on his shoulder.

  "Did you meet him in prison?" she inquired with this sickly sweet tone, like a Venus flytrap faking it until some sorry ass future meal was stupid enough to fall for it. Then she glanced in Julian's direction, surveying him, her vision lingering on their still entwined hands.

  She sneered.

  When she made eye contact with Julian, there was pure disdain in her gaze. "He looks the type."

  Eh, whatever. I've heard worse.

  "Looks the type?" Matt was obviously stunned. "He's a good man. A better man than me and he's helping me to build a new life—"

  "As a criminal?" she said, obviously baiting him.

  Matt's brother tried to interfere with the train wreck but his fiancée stopped him. Matt continued to defend Julian and their relationship. There was no way this selfish shell of a woman would possibly accept anything outside of her judgmental pretentious bubble, especially if it was out of her control or potentially affected her social status. Yet, Matt continued.

  "A few sessions with the doctor and you'll see he's using you for your money—"

  "What the hell?" Julian said before he had a chance to control himself. She may be a gold digger selfish bitch but he sure as hell wasn't.

  Julian took a deep breath trying to control the rage inside. His heart slammed against his chest and it became increasingly difficult to just idly sit and not do or say anything to help Matt. It was obviously pointless to continue. Matt looked over to him, his eyes pleading. Julian didn't know what to say or do in response to the sadness in those blue eyes.

  "Dad," Matt said to his father at the end of the table, still sitting quietly in his dark suit, looking down at his plate.

  The pained look on Matt's face was the final straw.

  Julian stood, still holding Matt's hand with a death grip, and shrugged off the butler's hold as he spoke the words he thought best fit the situation. "Thank you for a lovely meal, ma'am. Sir, Alex, Lindy," he said through gritted teeth. He began to walk away and tugged Matt's hand, hoping he'd follow him out of the dining room.

  "You do realize Matthew's money, his inheritance, is tied to the company," he heard Matt's mother say behind him.

  Julian turned and sharply inhaled to try and cool the anger that threatened to spill. "Are you talking to me?" he managed to ask past gritted teeth. Matt tried to tug Julian, but there was no way he was letting this woman walk all over him.

  "If you hope to get a single penny, then you are sadly mistaken. Matthew has nothing of his own. Neither of my sons do," she added the latter, giving Lindy a sideways look.

  "He doesn't want my money, Mom," Matt immediately responded in his defense. "When we met he didn't even know my real name. I was using Aunt Eleanor's name."

  "I don't want or need anything but Matt," Julian added clearly and confidently. Him, I only need him.

  Matt's mother disregarded Julian and his claim, as expected, then decided to turn into a drama queen and feigned some sort of bullshit excuse of an illness once she saw Matt wouldn't let up. He was proud as hell of Matt for not giving in, but it was, in fact, a pointless fight. She even went as far as signing the cross on her chest.

  Isn't the devil supposed to burn up or something by doing that? Why is she still sitting there?

  "You leave this house tonight and you will not be allowed to return. Your father will see to that."

  Julian looked over. Matt's father still sat in the same position. He should hold a mirror under his nose just to make sure the guy was still breathing. Julian then looked over to Matt and felt as if he'd been kicked in the gut by the sadness that bore him down. He was literally folding into himself, standing there, pain etched across his expression.

  "Aunt Eleanor was right. She said you'd do this. Do you know I told her that I hoped you would be d
ifferent? But you're not. You're every awful stereotype rolled into one. You wonder why I never told you."

  "Your Aunt Eleanor didn't have a son with unusual sexual proclivities. She didn't have a son who has been in prison and who felt it appropriate to bring an uncouth thug to the dinner table. Eleanor was an eccentric woman surrounded by cats. She may well have been your father's sister but really, she was a nobody."

  "She was everything to me," Matt yelled back with a surge of energy he didn't look as if he could spare. "Every time you weren't there, she was the mother you should have been. She knew me. She saw me for who I was. She even left me her money to make things right in this world. And damn it, I will make her proud."

  "Money?" His mom's hand fluttered to her chest. "Her money went to some cat protection sanctuary. She wouldn't give it to you." She looked over to her husband. "Mitchell, tell me I'm wrong here."

  Matt seemed to have let one of Aunt Eleanor's cats out of the bag. It was obvious something else was going on and Matt's aunt hadn't planned on informing his parents about any sort of inheritance.

  Needless to say, the plastic lady was pissed.

  She looked at Julian. "Leave. Or do I need to call security?"

  "You have security?" Julian asked under his breath. Not entirely surprised she threw that one in there.

  Julian looked over to Matt and saw him sway before he began to rapidly blink. He slightly gasped for air, then his complexion immediately paled.

  "J…" was all Matt managed to say as his body wilted.

  Julian instinctively reached out and caught Matt seconds before he hit the floor, the full weight of Matt landing solidly against him. He repositioned Matt, one arm under his bent legs and the other cradling his upper body against his chest, and headed out of the dining room, determined to get out of this hell they dared call a house. He shifted Matt, lifting him higher, pressing his face against his cheek. He calmed when he felt Matt's soft puffs of breath against his face.

  Matt's mother stood from the dinner table and followed Julian out of the dining room into the living room. "You leave him here, this is his home."

  Julian rounded, still holding Matt securely in his arms, fury pumped through every muscle in his body fiercer than any adrenaline rush he'd ever experienced. "This is not his home," he thundered, tired of holding back his anger against the hatred that thrived between these walls.