A Classic Blunder

Chapter 1-2

“It’ll be okay,” Vin said. At least he didn’t ask if Beau was all right, because Beau was decidedly not all right. “I’m here.”

“I know you are,” Beau said. He pulled his boyfriend into a quick hug. Vin was warm and snuggly against his side, all of what he wanted and needed. “Now, I need to do this, and don’t. Don’t touch me while I’m on the phone. I can’t get through this if I’m weak.”

“I wish you would shut up with that,” Vin said, but put his hands down at his sides and moved to the far side of the sofa. “You’re one of the strongest men I’ve ever met, and that’s saying a lot. David might even get a complex.” Beau snorted. David was Vin’s driver and bodyguard, and the person least likely to get an emotional issue that Beau knew.

Beau turned his attention to the phone and punched in his home—his parents’ home number; it wasn’t his home anymore and hadn’t been for two years. The same number he’d given to friends in elementary school, the phone where he’d talked to his wrestling teammates, the same phone that he’d spent hours listening to DeeDee—his faux girlfriend—talking about her small-town ambitions and small-town plans. The phone rang.

“Watkins,” a female voice answered the phone. “How are you this fine day?” Familiar, but not overly familiar.

“Ginny, it’s Beau.”

Ginger Bradly, except she was Ginger Watkins now, his older brother’s wife and mother of the niece he’d probably never meet. She had been a constant fixture in his life through high school. His brother’s girlfriend from when they were just fourteen, small-town lovers, high-school sweethearts. She’d been in his house and in his life. She sat down with the Watkins family for half of the holiday meals, and the other half had seen Lee sitting at the Bradly table instead. They hadn’t been friends, not exactly. Lee was eight years older, enough to see his little brother as a pest, an annoyance, and sometimes a responsibility. Close as kin, but not friends, and so Beau wasn’t friends with his sister-in-law. In fact, he hadn’t seen Ginny at all since just before her wedding.

Beau’s disastrous coming out to his family had resulted in Beau missing the wedding entirely.

“Oh, hi,” she said, startled. He waited to see if she would hang up on him.

“I understand you’re to be congratulated. I’m told you have a fine daughter now,” Beau said. It wasn’t Ginny’s fault Beau wasn’t a member of the family anymore.

“Thank you, sugar. She’s so big, I can’t believe it,” Ginny said, maternal pride shining over whatever other emotions she might have been experiencing.

“Ginny, is my mother home?” Beau asked. He wasn’t up to making small talk. “I kinda need to talk to her. It’s important.”

“I can have her call you back,” Ginny said. She lowered her voice. “It’s not a good time, sugar. Can I tell her what you need?”

“It doesn’t really matter if my dad’s around or not, Gin,” Beau said. “Lisa’s here. In Chicago.”

“Lisa, what? Where? Is she okay?” Her voice pitched upward, loud. Beau heard other voices in the background, queries, exclamations. Crap.

“Ginny, I’m only going to talk to my mother, so you put her on the phone. Do it now.”

The phone was snatched away from Ginny’s hands. Beau heard the undignified squawk she made. “Who is this? Where’s Lisa?”

God. Damn. “Lee. Hey, there. It’s Beau.” Beau’s stomach dropped three feet and hung out somewhere around his knees.

“Lee Watkins, you give me that phone right now and let me talk to my son,” Joanna Watkins demanded. She was a tiny woman, Beau’s mother, and Lee was tall. Beau could imagine her jumping up on her toes trying to reach the receiver. “And don’t hover over me, bless your heart. Go sit down.”

“Momma,” Beau said, chewing his bottom lip.

“Yes, Beau, honey, it’s me,” Joanna said. Over the line, Beau heard a sharp slapping, like his mother had slammed her hand down on the kitchen counter.

“I wanted to let you know that Lisa came to Chicago. She and Zach are fine. A little tired, and quite a lot dirty, but here. As far as I know, she hitchhiked most of the way, and took a bus for the rest of it. Probably hitched more than she’s letting on, but she’s safe now and there’s no need to fret over it.” Beau paused to take a breath, talking so fast it was like he was rollerskating downhill, bumpy and relentless and out of control. “She says that her grandfather—” even now, even almost eighteen months since Gerald had disowned him, he couldn’t bring himself to say Dad, and he didn’t want to make it an issue by calling his father by his given name, “—told her to get out, and since she’s not welcome at her home anymore, I thought I’d call and update you. She’s been here since Monday and we put her in some tutoring classes as of yesterday. She can’t attend high school here without getting residential status.” He was careful not to imply there was any choice in the matter aside from what Lisa wanted. He didn’t ask for advice. He didn’t ask what his parents wanted Lisa to do.

“You have her enrolled in school?”

“No, Momma, just tutoring for now. She’ll need an evaluation to place her more accurately, since she’s missed so much high school with everything that’s happened.”

“How did you make her? She was totally unmanageable when she was here.”

Beau shrugged. “Asked her.” He didn’t bother to add that he’d explained to his niece, in great detail, how hard things were going to be for her, with no education and no good job prospects. She was a smart kid; it hadn’t taken much for it to sink in that he was willing to help her, if she was willing to help herself at the same time.

“Butter must not melt in your mouth,” Joanna said. She sighed. “We couldn’t get her to do nothin’.”

Beau made a noncommittal noise of some sort. “So, can you send along that paperwork, please? It’d probably be better for everyone if she just got emancipated, so she can make her own decisions. I’m going overseas at the end of the summer and I won’t be able to be here for her until Christmas.”

“If you c’n talk her into goin’ to school, cain’t you get her t’ come back and marry that boy?”

Big, deep breath, so hard and fast his lungs hurt. “Momma, did she try to tell you the truth? Did you even listen to her?”

“Beauregard, don’t you even go repeating that,” Joanna said, sharp and cold. “That’s—”

“What I thought,” Beau filled in for her. “Just send the paperwork, please.” He lowered his phone and tapped End Call.

Vin was there, and took the phone gently from his fingers before Beau could throw it across the room; there was something so unsatisfying about disconnecting a cell call. Slamming a receiver into the cradle a few times would have helped to defuse some of Beau’s helpless rage, and those old rotaries were tough. You could rip them out of the wall and smash them across the room and they’d still work more than half the time.

“So, we have roommates?”

“We have roommates.”