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“Out of all of us, you’re the last one I expected to hook up with a married chick,” Gerald says through a loud belch.
“Shut up, Gerald” comes the nearly harmonious family reply.
“What? It’s true. The golden boy never fucks up.”
“Queenie is not married. She’s divorced, and she would’ve been divorced six years ago if her ass of an ex hadn’t screwed her over. So it was a technicality that she was still married,” I explain through gritted teeth.
“But who gets married at eighteen unless they accidentally got knocked up?” Jessica says and then cringes. “Sorry, Hanna. But you weren’t even old enough to get married, anyway, so it doesn’t count.”
“No, I just had a baby as a teenager. Totally doesn’t count.” Hanna is all sarcasm, which Jessica misses.
“We’re not debating who’s allowed to get married when,” I snap. “If there’s a family who should not be judgmental about people’s mistakes, it’s damn well this one!”
“There’s no need to raise your voice, Ryan. And we’re not being judgmental: people make mistakes all the time. We know that, and I thought you’d finally realized that you made a mistake when you broke up with Jessica, so I took it upon myself to help set things right.” My mother smiles nervously, hands clasped in her lap.
There’s a murmur of agreement from Gerald, and my dad grunts when my mom kicks him in the shin.
Jessica puts her hand on my knee and squeezes. “I forgive you for that.”
I rub the space between my eyes and grind my teeth. “No offense, Jessica, but I’m not asking for your forgiveness, because I didn’t make a mistake.”
“Ryan! You two have nearly a decade together! You don’t throw that away because things get tough or something shiny and new catches your eye for a few minutes. You’re lucky Jessica has been so understanding about all of this.”
I love my family, but they’re crazy. Apart from Hanna, anyway. I remind myself that I didn’t get where I am today by losing my temper every time I get angry. This whole situation is seriously pushing my buttons, though. “Queenie is not something shiny and new. We’ve been dating each other for months, and I love her.”
“Ryan!” my mother exclaims, and she flails her hand out toward Jessica. “Consider someone’s feelings other than your own!”
That gets a round of mumbling from my family. Although this time not everyone seems to be 100 percent in agreement. Hanna looks like she wishes she were anywhere but here. Which makes two of us.
“Like you considered mine when you brought my ex-girlfriend as a surprise right in the middle of a particularly difficult time in my new relationship? Or maybe a better example would be when you kept the fact that my sister is actually my goddamn mother from me for thirty fucking years because it was better for you!” I shout.
Since we’re in a limo, it’s more like a roar. Also, I’m angry. Possibly angrier than I’ve ever been in my entire life.
And suddenly the vehicle is pin-drop silent. Everyone’s eyes are saucer wide.
Gerald slaps his thigh. “I won the bet! Everyone owes me a case of beer! I told you King would lose it eventually and drop an f-bomb!”
“Unless you would like to know what it feels like to be on the receiving end of my fist in your face, I suggest you shut up,” I growl.
“Yeah, but then you’d have to pay for the dental work.” I launch myself at him, and it takes my dad and Hanna to pry me off. Hanna insists I calm down, because I’m going to hurt more than just Gerald if I can’t get a handle on myself. I realize she’s right, and that my mom and Jessica look terrified, so I sit back down.
We arrive at my house a minute later, thankfully, and everyone piles out, putting space between them and me. I punch in the code aggressively and usher everyone inside.
“Jessica and I need a minute alone, please,” I say through clenched teeth.
“Whatever you have to say to me you can say in front of your family.” She tips her chin up, almost defiant, and like maybe she thinks if I have to say it in front of them, I’ll choose my words more carefully.
I’ve always been considerate of everyone else’s feelings. Always treaded very carefully with my family and friends to avoid offending people or hurting their feelings, but this is really more than I can take after the week I’ve had.
“Why do you want to be with me?” I ask Jessica.
“What?”
“It’s a straightforward question. What is it about me that makes you want to be with me?”
“Oh, uh . . .” She bites her lip and chuckles nervously. “Well, obviously you’re very handsome.”
After a few seconds of her staring at me, I ask, “Is that it?”
