Page 20
I nodded in agreement. “Did you permanently lose your license, or can you petition to get it back with a fine or driving classes?”
Weston was quiet for a moment. “I was stupid. For reasons I can’t remember, I thought I was running out of time and had to speed everywhere. It was ridiculous of me to think so, but back then, I wanted to get everywhere in a hurry. The law caught up with me, and they took my license. Permanently.”
“Okay. The wildness of youth can catch us by surprise. I did stupid things in my life, too. That’s nothing to be embarrassed about. So, have you tried to get your license back? It’s no big deal if you haven’t.” I wasn’t trying to make him feel guilty. The frailty of youth, when we all think we’re invincible. We’re not invincible, are we?” I turned onto the ramp for the highway headed north.
“No, we’re not. I really haven’t thought about it lately. I have a lot of stuff on my mind. So, uh, can I ask you about your marriage? You said your ex cheated.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, uh, Scott and I were married for a few years. We met in college and became fuck buddies. Once we both graduated, we decided to get married for reasons I can’t begin to explain and still don’t understand. Maybe it seemed like it was time, and we got along okay. I stopped dating, but Scott didn’t. It was for the best, really. We just didn’t love each other.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. Why? That was a good question.
“Did people give you grief because you were gay?” I turned to see Weston’s expression. He was worried.
I chuckled. “At first, I didn’t look at it that way, but as I look back on things, maybe? I was always more into mechanical things rather than friendships. I was a weird kid, I guess.”
“So, what degree did you graduate with?” West was staring at me, which I saw in my peripheral vision.
“Mechanical engineering. I, uh, I like building things, so after I graduated, I started building bikes. Cycling was always my passion, and my father never understood it. He wanted me to go to business school or law school like him, but that wasn’t what I wanted. That was where your father came in. He liked cycling around the city, and he’d take me with him. He seemed to understand me. I don’t know how or why, but he did.”
I drove another few miles before Weston spoke again. “Do you miss him?”
The question caught me off-guard. “I looked up to your father, Weston. He was good to me when I needed someone. My father was an asshole because he didn’t agree with my choices. Your father supported me.”
“So, you got along with my father? The two of you were tight?”
The fact he sounded surprised was a shock. “Your father was kind to me when my own father wasn’t. But remember, I wasn’t Claude’s son. He knew what a prick my father could be, so maybe he was trying to give me the support my father wouldn’t give me because I was gay.”
“And why was my father so kind to you when he didn’t show that kindness to me? He wasn’t mean to me, don’t get me wrong. He wasn’t harsh. I know he loved me, but it seemed as if he didn’t know what to do with me.”
“Oh, Weston, don’t think your father didn’t love you. You were his whole world. I think he just didn’t know how to support you. I don’t think he knew what you needed.” I breathed out as I said what I thought he needed to hear.
West turned to look at me. “Do you think he loved me? Do you have any idea why he did what he did in his will?”
I sighed. “He loved your mother, happy to catch me up on what they were doing. He told me about your mom’s membership on charity boards and things they were planning. I know what he did looks bad, West, but I don’t think it was meant in malice.”
Claude loved his family—even CJ and Claudia—and I had a hard time believing he had a mean bone in his body. He’d supported me when I needed him, and he definitely loved West. I was sure he’d support his son.
Weston held his head high. “But did he really truly love us? He cut us out of his will? How could he love us and do that?”
I didn’t answer.
I was quiet for twenty miles, mulling over what Weston said. When I glanced at him in the passenger seat, his eyes were closed. What answer could I give him when I didn’t know one myself?
Chapter Nine
Weston
“West? We’re here.”
I glanced around to see we’d pulled into a campground that seemed cheerful. There were plenty of people sitting around campfires talking and laughing. They were enjoying themselves, and after witnessing the daily grind in Manhattan, it was damn nice to see people having a good time.
“Looks like a fun place.” I sat up in the seat, turning to Bridges to wait for his take on the surroundings.
He chuckled. “I guess. I’ve stayed in a lot of places like this, and I find that these folks are usually nosy, so you should expect them to ask questions, but you don’t have to answer anything if you don’t want.”
I hopped out of the RV and watched Bridges step out. He hooked up the electricity and the water without any trouble at all. I hoped I could remember how he’d done it so I could help the next time...if there was a next time.
After we were all hooked up to the amenities, I followed Bridges to the firepit in front of our campsite. He pulled a bundle of wood from a compartment on the side of the vehicle and quickly built a fire in the pit. He pulled two camp chairs from the back of the RV, unfolding them so we could sit near the flaming logs.
“This is nice,” I said as I glanced at the other campsites. Some were more decorated than ours with lanterns and twinkling lights, but Bridges still made ours inviting. The night was surprisingly cool, so the warmth of the fire was really nice.