by Jayce Ellis
She spun, eyed the box, then launched into his arms. “Hey, Daddy. Is that from Ms. Patti?”
“You know I don’t wrap that well.”
She squealed and clapped her hands, then grabbed it and sprinted down the hall to her bedroom, the slapping sound of her feet music to his ears.
“She’s not the only one looking happy,” Gran said from the kitchen.
He shook his head and laughed, then walked in and kissed her cheek. “Matt asked me to go to his son’s wedding with him.”
Gran beamed, moved the steaks she’d finished to the counter to rest, and pulled him into a hug. “That’s wonderful, JaQuan. That means this is serious?”
God, he felt like a kid again, though, now that he thought about it, he’d skipped this part of childhood. “I think so, Ma. We haven’t really talked about it, but I like him. A lot.”
“Good, baby. You deserve it.” She paused and rolled her lips in, then looked to the side. “You spoken to Tanisha?”
He shook his head. “Not yet.”
Gran nodded. “I don’t think there’s any real rush. She’s still dealing. When’s the wedding?”
“Thanksgiving weekend.” The words came out and he paused. They’d always spent Thanksgiving together, Jaq enduring the football games he couldn’t care less about until Gran had banned them the past few years, a feast meant for upward of ten people instead of just the three of them. Not that it went to waste. Not by a long shot.
She seemed to know what he was thinking, because Gran patted him on the cheek. “Don’t you worry. I’ll have plenty to do, and Tanisha’s already talked about how some friends invited her to spend the day with them. Go on with your young man.”
“He’s not exactly young, Gran,” he said with a laugh. “He’s got three grown kids of his own.”
She waved him off. “When you’re my age, everyone is young.” Gran was barely sixty, so he wasn’t sure what in the hell she was talking about, and he wasn’t arguing.
Tanisha ran back out clutching a throw pillow, which Jaq recognized as one from their Bernhardt collection. A deep burgundy, laced with silver thread, adorned with hand-sewn beads on the outside and Tanisha’s name stitched on the back. It was, ironically, the design that had been rejected just that morning, and thank god Matt took care of that as quickly as he did.
“Oh, Patricia outdid herself this time,” Gran said, fingering the delicate stitching that had been done by hand, rather than by machines.
She really had, and Jaq thrilled to see the joy on Tanisha’s face. “What are you doing here, pumpkin?” he asked her. “I’d have sworn you’d be living your best life at the school today.”
T shrugged. “To be honest, we partied all weekend. I kind of needed a break.”
Jaq laughed. That was just like her. Work hard, play hard was her long-standing motto.
“Don’t pay him any mind,” Gran called out from the kitchen, where she was slicing the steak. “You’re in college and that’s what you’re supposed to do. Your daddy’s finally getting his own life, too.” She said it with a laugh, one she cut off as her eyes skirted over to him. She hadn’t technically said anything, but the door was open now. And for the love of god, Jaq didn’t know if she’d done it intentionally or not.
Naturally, not being wont to miss anything, Tanisha grabbed hold and yanked it. “So, what’re you up to, Dad?”
Jaq sighed. There was no way this conversation wasn’t happening. “Why don’t we eat and talk about it?” he suggested, gesturing to the table.
Tanisha nodded, her face open and curious while they fixed plates of the steak, green beans and tomatoes, and garlic mashed potatoes Gran had put together. It smelled divine, especially with the salad and raspberry vinaigrette set to accompany it, but Jaq’s stomach was souring as he sat.
He tried to covertly calm himself down while T grabbed a sparkling apple cider from the fridge and flutes to toast. Gran looked at him with something resembling both apology and encouragement, but also the stubborn resolve that was part and parcel of his mother. This needed to happen.
Gran toasted to Tanisha and they all took a sip. T barely got through one bite before demanding answers. “Okay. What’s going on?”
Jaq hesitated. “I’m seeing someone,” he said.
Tanisha’s eyes lit up. “Dad, that’s great! Who? When do I get to meet him?”
This was the part he didn’t want to do. He looked at Gran, who nodded and reached across the table to pat his hand. He took a deep breath. “I’m seeing Matt Donaldson.”
Tanisha tilted her head, frowned, then jerked back and stared at him with blown eyes. “Angela’s dad Matt Donaldson?”
“Yes.”
“The same Angela who dumped me? Who said that I was too young and immature for her?”
“Tanisha,” Gran cut in, “Angela and her dad are separate people. I’ve met him and he seems to really care about your father.”
She looked back and forth between them. “He’s been here? To the house?”
“Yes,” Gran said, her voice too calm for the roiling in his gut, “he came when your father was ill. I like him and I think he’s good for your dad.”
“Yeah, okay, fine, but he’s still Angela’s dad. He raised her. Raised her to think age is worth dumping someone over, didn’t he? How many years older than you is he, Dad?”
Jaq’s muscles tightened, from the base of his back all the way up to his jaw. He took a deep breath and consciously unclenched them. “That’s not relevant, T, and it’s not the same.”
“How can you say that? It is exactly the same. I bet he’s more than three years older than you, isn’t he?”
“That’s enough.” Jaq rarely raised his voice. Rarely ever had to, but he wasn’t in the right space to do this. “You’re clearly not ready to have this conversation right now.”
“Oh, is it because I’m too immature for it?” Tanisha pushed out of her chair, grabbed her new pillow, and stormed down the hall into her bedroom, shutting it with a loud bang.
Gran shot up at that, and Jaq reached out a hand. “Ma, leave her be.”
“I know that little girl isn’t slamming doors in my house. She don’t pay no bills here.”
“Gran, I know. She’s upset. Give her time.”
She huffed and sat down. “She better be glad it’s her birthday.”
That forced a smile through the cracks in Jaq’s soul. “Right now, I’m sure she is.”
Gran reached over and patted him on the hand. “You did the right thing,” she said. “I meant what I said before. She’s living her life, it’s time for you to live yours. She’ll get over it.”
If only Jaq could be so sure.
Chapter Sixteen
Jaq leaned back against the seat while Matt’s hand grazed his inner thigh. He couldn’t believe he was here, on his way to Matt’s son’s wedding, just months after they’d met. Patti had been nearly overjoyed by the request for time off, a sharp turn from the anxiety she’d exhibited during Tanisha’s move-in day. He’d been concerned she’d insist he stay at the office for last-minute issues, but things had been genuinely smooth sailing since another company had tried to snatch their designs. Jaq’d been floored when Matt told him what happened, but Patti just said it meant what they were offering was top-tier. She truly took it as a compliment.
Jaq laid a hand over Matt’s and squeezed. Even though Matt didn’t turn and look, Jaq saw a smile spread across his face. This was what he’d been waiting for. What he’d gone decades without.
The only problem, one that burned low in his gut, was that Tanisha still wasn’t talking to him. Even though nearly a month had passed since her birthday, she still harbored an anger and resentment that Jaq had foolishly thought he’d escaped—that time when your child despises you and everything you stand for. No, it had just waited until adulthood, when there
was literally nothing he could do about it except let her reach her own conclusions in her own time.
Gran told him time and again to let her be, that she would come around on her own. But as the first semester of college drew to a close, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep waiting.
“You all right over there?” Matt asked him.
“Yeah,” Jaq said, squeezing his hand. “Just thinking about T.”
“She still not talking?”
“Not a word.”
Matt nodded but didn’t say anything else. Jaq wasn’t sure how much Matt and Angela spoke, either before they’d gotten together or now. It was one part of their life they’d tried to keep somewhat separate. And it was hard. Tanisha had been his world, and she still was, but...it was expanding, and faster than he’d thought possible.
Jaq closed his eyes and let himself drift off to sleep. When he opened them, Matt was pulling into a hotel. “We here?” he asked, his voice groggy. He could really go for another hour or so.
“Yep. Di said they’re meeting in the bar area.”
Nerves took up residence in Jaq’s stomach. This was really happening. He sucked in a deep breath and let it out a little too quickly. Yeah, that hadn’t been helpful. The temptation to claim exhaustion was strong, and he tamped it down. He was wide awake now, whether he wanted it or not.
Next to him, Matt laughed. “It’ll be fine,” he said. “Angela already knows you, and everyone else will love you. Hell, they already say I’m a better person because of you.”
Jaq looked out the car at the hotel. It looked like they’d skipped Thanksgiving and gone straight to Christmas. The front doors were adorned with frosted snow, Happy Holidays with Santa etchings in the window. Inside, a giant, close to fourteen-foot tree stood in the center of the lobby, surrounded by a green felt tarp and wrapped boxes of presents at the base. To his left, Jaq saw signs for Santa, who was apparently coming that afternoon to grant wishes. His heart gave a pang. For four years, Tanisha had begged Santa to give her a new mommy, and had stopped believing in him not long after that. Jaq sighed, and Matt tightened his grip.
They checked in, then went upstairs. Jaq paused just inside the door. Matt didn’t do anything halfway, did he? He’d gotten a suite, complete with a kitchenette, six-seat dining room table, living area, and a separate bedroom. They took a few minutes to freshen up, then headed back downstairs, Jaq determined not to get lost in the mire of his own head. Sounds filtering out from the bar caught his attention, then a feminine voice yelled out, “Dad!”
Matt turned to his right and Jaq followed. A woman, who bore a striking resemblance to Angela, strode over in heels that should have been illegal. Matt’s face brightened and he wrapped her in his arms. “Hey, baby. How’s law school treating you?”
She rolled her eyes. “Remind me again why I said I wanted to go to law school.”
“I tried to talk you out of it, but does anyone listen to dear old Dad? I think not.”
She punched him lightly before peeking around him to wave at Jaq. “Hi there,” she said. “I’m Natalie, Dad’s second. Isn’t he just so rude?”
Jaq held his hands up and laughed. “Don’t look at me. I’m out of it.”
“Hey!” Matt protested. He stepped back and made formal introductions, and Natalie beamed and smiled at Jaq as though it wasn’t even a little unusual for her dad to be standing there with a strange man after over twenty years of marriage to their mother. Not strange at all.
Natalie grabbed Matt with one hand and Jaq with the other, and pulled them into the bar, which was really an expansive lounge area, where most of whom Jaq assumed was either Matt’s or the bride’s family sat relaxing around a set of chairs. Matt and Natalie made introductions, which did not include Angela or Matt’s ex, and Jaq was gratified by the lack of winces, exchanged glances, or fidgeting from everyone else. He took a seat next to Matt, and Matt didn’t hesitate to lay a hand on his knee.
Conversation flowed around him, and Jaq was content to be a spectator. He didn’t know most of the inside jokes and stories they were talking about, but he saw from a few of the other guests that they were just as in the dark as him.
As the hours were on, though, Matt became undeniably fidgety. At one point, Jaq leaned over and whispered, “Is everything okay?”
Matt sighed. “My phone has been going off for hours. I don’t know if it’s about your launch or one of the other ones, but someone’s losing their mind.”
It wasn’t Kingsley, else Jaq’s phone would be ringing too. But once Matt had put his foot down and the designs for Patti had been approved, he’d taken to spending most of his weeks down in Fredericksburg, watching out for the guy gunning for his job more than the other launches. It had sucked, because Jaq’d had visions of spending those weekends in bed, surrounded by the warmth of Matt’s body and the overwhelming persistence of Spitfire for attention, but he understood.
Jaq ran his hand up and down Matt’s leg and leaned into him. “We’ve been here for a bit. Why don’t you go on up to the room and handle it, and I’ll be up soon.”
Matt frowned, like he desperately wanted to, but didn’t want to seem a poor host. “You sure you don’t mind? You’re good here?”
Jaq waved him off. “I’m fine. Go on.”
Matt pressed a kiss to his lips, ignoring Natalie’s catcall, and headed upstairs.
Jaq tried not to let tension creep into his shoulders. Everyone here had been perfectly kind to him, and for another hour or so, he chatted amicably with the other guests. Then a gust of air blew through and Angela walked in, followed by two people who could only be Matt’s ex-wife and her new husband. By god, Angela and Natalie were spitting images of their mom.
The ex—Diane, if Jaq remembered correctly—zeroed in on him immediately, and strode over, coming to a stop just a few feet away. Jaq craned his neck up.
“You must be Matthew’s guest,” she said, her hand outstretched, though for a shake or a kiss he couldn’t be sure.
Jaq felt very much like a student who’d been called into the principal’s office for something someone else had done. He stood, just to put them on eye level, and decided to shake. “I am. JaQuan Reynolds. Pleasure to meet you.”
“Diane Donaldson. Likewise.”
Jaq cocked his head and swallowed the question on the tip of his tongue. She smiled, as though reading his thoughts. “I’ve been a Donaldson for over twenty-five years. My children are all Donaldsons. I’m not changing my name just because I changed my spouse.”
Jaq snorted. He liked her. “Understood.”
Diane scanned the room before refocusing on him. “Where is Matthew?”
“Upstairs. His phone wouldn’t stop going off.”
She rolled her eyes. “Abandoning you already? Color me surprised.”
Maybe he needed to rethink that initial assessment. Like was a strong word.
She moved a fraction closer and his stomach clenched. “I’m joking with you. A little. Matthew will not get off his phone if you don’t make him, and I will not have my eldest child’s wedding interrupted by his phone calls. Go upstairs and make him.”
“Make him what?”
“Get off.”
I...what? “How do you propose I do that?” he asked, even though he had ideas, and now Prince was stuck in his head, and that wasn’t appropriate in front of guests.
Diane took a step back, taking her time to look him up and down, before smirking and waving her hand behind her. A man started walking toward them, the one he assumed was her husband. Maybe one of the groomsmen? It was hard to tell, given that he looked closer to Josh’s age. When the guy reached them, Diane tilted her cheek to accept a kiss, then wrapped her arm around him and tugged him close. Definitely husband then. Okay.
She turned to Jaq and grinned. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to redirect his attention.”
; Jaq’s entire body went on high alert and he stepped back, chuckling. “I’m not sure what to say to that.”
Diane rolled her eyes. “Don’t play coy. Matthew isn’t the type to be interested in coy.”
He shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. “You have a point there.”
She laughed, winked at him, then walked off toward the lobby, presumably to check in, husband in tow.
Jaq looked across the room at Angela, who studiously ignored him, her head buried in her phone. That was probably for the best. He didn’t know what to say anyway.
Besides, Diane was right. No way he was letting Matt be here in body only, spending all his time on the phone. He spun on his heels and headed for the elevators.
* * *
Jaq waited for the keycard lock to turn green, then opened the door. He called out “Honey, I’m home,” in his best Ricky Ricardo voice.
Nothing.
And Matt was sitting right there, headphones on, deep into whatever he was doing on his computer.
For some reason, Jaq had assumed Matt might be in the bed, the computer on his lap, his ankles crossed while he worked. Jaq would come in and Matt would set it aside so Jaq could climb on top of him. Work would be done and it’d be time for play.
But no. Matt had set up an actual workstation, turning the dining room table into a command center and, given that he hadn’t responded, hadn’t even looked up, his headphones probably had a high noise-cancelling function. He didn’t want to be bothered by something as simple as his lover coming back to the room.
On the one hand, Jaq could admire his dedication to the cause of whatever he was doing. On the other, they were at his son’s wedding and weren’t there better things to do? Like him? This late in the game, there was only so much Matt could handle remotely regarding any last-minute launch issues, and he was pretty sure Diane, married or not, would string him up by his balls if he checked out during Josh’s festivities. She’d all but said as much downstairs.
Jaq crossed the room and kneaded Matt’s shoulder. He grunted, placed a hand on top of Jaq’s, but didn’t look up. Jaq paused, contemplated. He could press the issue, or he could let the man work.
