by Riley Hart
Why was he wasting time thinking about his dad? He should focus on himself, on his mom, and if they could find the bridge between the two of them that had been buried behind years of pain and anger.
Before he drove himself crazy, he went downstairs and opened the fridge. He pulled out what he needed and began making breakfast. It didn’t take long for the bacon, eggs, and toast to be ready, and when it was, he went back upstairs and knocked on his mom’s bedroom door. It was cracked open and he saw that she’d already showered and dressed for the day. “Can you come downstairs with me? I made us breakfast. We need to talk.”
“Nice of you to come home last night.” She cocked a brow at him.
“This house isn’t my home. It never will be again.” She opened her mouth and Van could tell by the fire in her eyes that she was going to argue with him, so he cut her off before she could. “Come downstairs. Please. We need to talk.”
She sighed, pushed a lock of dyed hair behind her ear, and then followed him down. Van made their plates along with coffee and the two of them sat down together.
“Who have you been with? Jonathan stopped by, so I know it’s not him.”
He frowned. “Does Jonathan stop by often?”
“Yes. He and his wife both check on me. They’ve been…well, they’ve been like family to me.”
And Van hadn’t. But had she been like family to Van?
“Why did you ask me to come, Mom? I’d really like to know.”
“You know why—because your father passed away. He left things to you. Regardless of…of our separation, I think your father was right to do that.”
Did she? Did she really, or did she still not like to disagree with him, even after death?
“You’re still our son.”
He pushed the plate away, unable to eat. “Do you really feel that way? I honestly want to know. Do you really think Van is your son?”
“Van is Maxwell, so yes.” There was emotion in her green eyes, that he couldn’t place. Emotion he hadn’t seen from her before and Van latched onto that. Held it tight.
“I don’t want to fight with you,” he told her.
“I don’t want to fight with you, either.”
“How about we pack up a few things together today?”
She nodded. “I can’t believe I’m leaving this house, but I can’t stay. Not without him.”
Van let that go. He waited as his mom finished eating. They went into the study then and began putting books into boxes.
“Have you had any luck finding a place?” he asked as they worked.
“No. Jonathan’s wife is looking but I haven’t fallen in love with any of them.”
“I can help you check out a few places if you want. Just let me know when and I’ll go with you.”
She nodded again and some of the tension in his muscles began to loosen up. Maybe they could do that. Maybe they could somehow find some kind of relationship.
They were mostly quiet but they talked about a few things as they packed—a fundraiser she was helping with. A fire that had burned down the old elementary school a few years back. Apparently, his father donated a large chunk of money toward building the new one.
Van wasn’t surprised about that.
She said she was considering getting a cat, when she got a new place, which did surprise him. He’d always wanted pets growing up but they’d never let him have one. He’d never heard about his mom’s interest in animals.
“Wow…really?” he asked.
“Yes. I always had cats growing up. Your father hated them, but now…now I might get myself a cat.”
The paperweight he held tumbled from his hand. Never in a million years had he thought he’d see the day where his mom would want to do something his father hadn’t liked. Maybe it was silly to take that as a good sign, but Van did.
They worked together, side-by-side for a good couple hours. They even laughed together a few times as well.
For the first time since Van had gotten back to Last Chance, he felt hope where his mom was concerned.
“I think that’s enough for me today,” she said a little while later. “I need to meet with Jonathan’s wife.”
“I can go with you,” Van offered.
She held a book in her hand, and as she moved to put it into a box, a paper tumbled out. No, not a paper, it was a photograph of Van sitting on his father’s lap when he was about four years old.
His mom kneeled and picked it up. She flipped it over and said, “With my boy,” before her hand began to shake.
Van bit back the urge to vomit.
“He was so happy, so incredibly happy when you were born. He was so proud of his son. He’d always wanted a son.” There was a sweet hint of nostalgia in her voice that he wished he could share.
“He wanted the best for you. I know you don’t believe that but he did.”
“He had a funny way of showing it.”
“He wasn’t perfect. You think I don’t know that? But he did his best.”
Was she fucking serious? “Stop making excuses for him. No one is perfect. He was abusive. Can you give me that? Can you say those fucking words to me?” He hit his own chest. “I deserve to hear you admit it.”
“Why do you do this, Max? It was in the past! He wanted to make it up to you. He tried to make it up to you.”
“By trying to give me money and a business? That’s not love. Not to me.” He shook his head.
“I just…I said I didn’t want to fight with you, Maxwell. I have an appointment.”
He didn’t stop her, and she didn’t ask him to go with her as he’d offered.
*
It was about one o’clock when Van pulled up in front of Shane’s auto shop. He knew he shouldn’t bother Shane at work, but he wanted to see Shane in action, he realized. Wanted to see Shane in his element—one of his elements, at least.
“Can I help you?” a man with light brown hair and a welcoming smile asked. He was tall, with lean muscles and a couple days of stubble on his face. He had oil on his coveralls and hands, and a sexy, soft jawline that made him look slightly like he had a baby face.
“My name’s Van. I was looking for Shane?”
Just then he heard a bump and then, “Shit,” before Shane’s head popped out from underneath the hood of a car.
Well if that wasn’t cute as fuck, Van didn’t know what was. He had oil smudged on his forehead and his hair was messy and… “Did you just bump your head?”
“He’s been klutzy the past two days. I think maybe now I know why,” the other man said.
Van grinned. “Don’t worry. I have that effect on people.”
“Fuck off,” Shane said to his employee before looking at Van. “And you can fuck off too. ‘I have that effect on people.’” He said the last sentence in a playful, mocking tone. “Maybe because you’re so damn annoying.” Shane looked around then and Van wondered if it was because they were being flirty. Shit. He hadn’t even thought of that. He knew Shane had never had a man here. Did they know he was even gay?
He looked at the other man who said, “Ryan. Nice to meet you. I’d shake your hand but you’re much cleaner than I am.”
“I don’t care about that.” Van shook Ryan’s hand.
“I’ll leave the two of you alone. Might be wise to keep anything out of his walkway, nothing dangerous or sharp in his hands.”
Van laughed and Shane groaned. Oh, Van liked the guy.
“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Van replied. Obviously, Ryan knew Shane was into men. Van walked over and leaned against the car. “I make you klutzy, huh?”
“Didn’t I say fuck off? I’m pretty sure I did.”
“You didn’t mean it though.” He nudged Shane. “Is it okay that I stopped by here? I wasn’t really thinking….”
“What? No. It’s fine. I don’t give a shit about that. I might not announce my sexuality to everyone in town but I’m not trying to hide it either. Plus, just because you stopped by doesn’t mean we’re
fucking.”
“Speak for yourself but I’m pretty sure it’s written all over my face that I want to fuck you. I have no qualms about that either.”
Shane’s cheeks flushed a light pink.
“You’re cute when you blush.”
“I’m not blushing.”
“Okay,” Van replied. “Did you eat lunch? Can I buy you lunch?”
“No, I didn’t eat and I’m fucking starving. I should be able to sneak away for a little bit. Now is actually a good time. Let me talk to Ryan.”
“He’s cute.”
Shane cocked a brow at him. “He’s straight.”
Was Shane serious? “Oh, sweetie, that man is not straight. Maybe bisexual or bi-curious but definitely not straight.”
Shane lowered his voice. “What? No way.”
“I could be wrong but I’m typically not.”
“No shit?” Shane’s eyes went wide and he looked the direction Ryan had gone.
Van nudged him again. “Simmer down, man. You’re fucking me right now, remember? At least wait until I leave before you move on to baby-face.” The words were meant as a joke but they almost stuck in Van’s throat. Tasted bitter. He actually might be a little jealous, which he needed to squash right away. “Unless you think he’d be down for a threesome….”
Shane rolled his eyes. “Ryan is straight, and even if he wasn’t, he works for me. I’m not fucking him and you’re not fucking him.” There was a slight harshness to Shane’s voice that made Van smile when it likely shouldn’t have.
“Don’t worry. I don’t want to share you either.”
“Who said I didn’t want to share you?”
“You didn’t have to.” Van winked and then pushed off the car.
“I take back what I said. I don’t like you anymore.”
“Yeah you do. Now come on. I didn’t have the best morning. Let me take you to lunch.”
Shane frowned slightly. His forehead wrinkled and even though Van didn’t know what it was, Shane obviously had something on his mind. For a moment Van thought he was going to change his mind but then he said, “Hold on. Give me a couple minutes to get ready.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Shane went into the office and saw Ryan looking at some paperwork. Could Van have been right about him? Was he gay? Bi? In the closet?
He looked at the other man, studied him for a moment, before Ryan looked up. Had there been another gay man so close to him and he hadn’t known? “I have something in my teeth or what? Why are you looking at me funny?” Ryan asked.
“Am not.”
“Pretty sure you are.” He nodded toward the garage. “That’s the guy everyone is talking about being back, isn’t it? You didn’t seem too happy about that the first night.”
No, he hadn’t been. But he was now. Funny how quickly things could change. “It’s a long story. Do you mind if I cut out and go have some lunch real quick?”
Ryan shrugged. “You’re the boss.”
“Will you be okay?”
“Um…yes? Is that a trick question? Is there a reason I wouldn’t be?” Ryan frowned and Shane realized how silly the question was. They weren’t busy. Of course, Ryan could handle the shop while he was gone. “You’re being weird. You know I don’t give a shit you’re gay, right? I mean, people talk and you and I have chatted a little bit, but you never put it into words. I’m just putting it out there that I don’t care, in case you were afraid I do.”
Shane shook his head. “I know. Sorry. Didn’t get much sleep last night.” And now I’m wondering if you’re in the closet and I didn’t know. Fucking Van. “Alright. I’ll be back in a bit.”
Ryan nodded and Shane went into the bathroom, took off his coveralls, and washed up. He’d be lying if he didn’t admit that it was strange to be going out to lunch in Last Chance with another gay man. Well, not strange. Just different.
He put the coveralls away before heading back out to meet Van. He was in the lobby, walking around and looking at all the photographs on the walls.
“Are these all cars you’ve done work on?” Van asked.
“Yeah. Just the special ones though. The classics. Engines I love having my hands in.”
“I think you love having your hands in all of them.”
Shane shrugged. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He knew Van was right.
“Come on. Let me take you to Lucky Rose.”
Shane followed Van to his car. There were a few bags in the back and an easel. He wondered if that meant Van wanted to paint at his house that night. Or hell, maybe Van didn’t even plan to come to his place and Shane was getting ahead of himself. He wanted Van there, he realized. Wanted to talk to him more…maybe fuck him again…and wanted to watch him paint.
It didn’t take them long to get to the café. Lucky Rose was slow for it being after one. They were seated quickly and were left with menus before Shane realized what table they were at.
“I’m sorry,” Van said as though he could read Shane’s mind. They did seem to be on the same wavelength. That wasn’t the first time he felt it.
“You remember that?” Shane questioned. Van remembered knocking the dishes from Shane’s hand at that very table.
“I remember everything and I hate it. Things would be much easier if I’d forgotten, but then I know that’s not fair either. I was a dick to you. I took my pain and fear out on you and it’s the biggest regret of my life.”
Shane’s chest got tight at the honesty in Van’s voice. “You already apologized, more than once if I remember correctly. It was a long time ago. Neither of us are the same men we were.”
Van leaned back in his seat and looked across the table at Shane. “No…no we’re not. And this isn’t an excuse, but my dad had lost it on me that night. I fucked up the game and I cried so I was weak, a pussy—that was one of his favorite words to throw around. That and faggot. So yeah, he smacked me around and I came here and tried to prove how strong I was by picking on you, by hurting you the way he hurt me. Didn’t realize at the time that’s what really made me weak. Not what my dad said, or the game, or anything else, but the way I treated you.”
“You weren’t weak…you were a child.”
“So were you, and you didn’t go around hurting anyone else.”
No, Shane hadn’t, but he’d also not had to deal with the things Van did. His mother had never tried to hurt him. She’d always shown how much she loved him, she just had other wounds to bear.
He didn’t want to talk about their past right now, though. “It’s over. You like me now.” Shane winked.
“That I do.”
“And you’re buying me lunch, so I can’t complain.”
The two men laughed. He really fucking liked laughing with Van. Liked talking with him too.
“What are you going to get?” Van asked opening the menu. “I mean, besides a grasshopper shake, because if you’re not ordering that, I’m not sure we can be friends anymore. Jesus, I missed those.”
“Shut up. You can’t tell me you couldn’t get a good chocolate mint shake in Los Angeles and also, I knew I liked you for a reason. Grasshopper was always my favorite. Weird, that you like them too.” He wasn’t sure why it was so weird. Just that they shared a favorite shake?
“I’m not sure it’s so weird. I don’t think I’d find any similarities we have strange. Just sort of fits.”
Yeah…Shane thought it might fit too.
Their waitress, Libby, came back over. “Hey, Shane. You ready to order?”
“Sure, I am, Libby. You?” He looked over at Van.
Libby looked at Van and seemed to realize who he was for the first time. “Holy cow. Maxwell Sullivan? It’s so good to see you!”
She’d been a few years behind them in school. Shane hadn’t known her much back then, but of course, he knew her now. Everyone knew Van though, and he could tell by the look on Van’s face, he didn’t recognize Libby.
“Hi, Libby,” he said. “It’s good to see you.”
&nb
sp; “Remember how good she was at marching band? It was our senior year and she was out there as a freshman, playing at all your games.” Shane tried to jumpstart Van’s memory.
“Yes. You were the only freshman, right?” Van asked and Libby blushed. Fucker had that effect on everyone. “Do you still play?”
She shook her head. “No…don’t really have the time. I work days and my husband works nights. We have three kids. What about you? Do you have any babies?” she asked.
“No, I don’t.”
“Married? Girlfriend or anything?”
Van shook his head. “No,” Van replied. “I did meet a new man recently I’m interested in. We’ll see how it goes.”
Shane’s eyes snapped up to Van, who didn’t turn to look at him, just continued his conversation with Libby. “Good for you. I hope it works out with him,” Libby said without missing a beat. Shane figured most people in Last Chance would have mentally stumbled after hearing Maxwell Sullivan was gay. Even though most of the town knew, there’d likely be a little unease if Shane said the words aloud, too. Not Libby though. He’d always liked her and her husband both.
They spoke for a moment before she took their orders—BLTs, water, and a chocolate mint shake—and said, “It’s great to see you. And you too, of course, Shane. I’ll let you guys get back to it.” She turned on her heels and made her way back to the kitchen.
“We never stop coming out. It wasn’t something I thought about before moving to LA—probably because I never thought I would come out. I probably thought I’d have to say it once and that would be the end of it. Like everyone would know after that. Funny, huh?” Van asked, and Shane suddenly wished he’d had that experience. Maybe it wasn’t one he should wish for, to have to tell everyone he met that he was gay and then worry about their response—but the fact that he’d never really said the words to anyone in Last Chance other than his mom and Caleb felt heavier on his chest.
“Shit…I didn’t mean—”
“No, it’s fine,” Shane cut Van off. “I know you didn’t mean anything. I don’t know why I keep it to myself. I’m not ashamed of who I am. I’m damn proud of being a gay man. It’s also not like everyone doesn’t assume.”
