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I had committed the itinerary for the trip to memory, including the meet ups with people in the community that were very important to Weston. I wanted to support the guy as he handled every aspect of the trip on his own, though I did help get Kian and Eric Batterman on board in the beginning.

After that, I ducked out of the planning because West’s proactive stance would support his leadership skills as he positioned himself to lead Aames Investments. It was exactly what Weston needed to document so the others could see just how great he would be in the job.

“Thank you, Bridges.” He kissed my cheek before going downstairs to his office to call Kincaid Hayes, and I took the opportunity to text my father.

Hi, Dad. Can we have lunch tomorrow? I have some questions for you.

I didn’t expect to hear from my father until the next morning, but he surprised me by replying right away.

What kind of questions do you have? I’d like to be prepared to answer honestly.

Honestly? I had to wonder if my father ever answered anything honestly because he was the master of double-speak that predicated total confusion. Maybe the fact that he and my mother didn’t approve of my sexuality, or as they called it, “my preferences,” had tainted my vision of them? Who was to say?

A few years after coming out, they said they accepted me, but it didn’t ring true to my ears. They had been trying to keep their friends from finding out I was gay by not hosting parties at our house any longer, and I picked up on it immediately. Something out of the norm in their lives would put them in a different light with their friends, and Mom and Dad wanted to be anything but different. And if they acknowledged that I was different, then they would be painted with my brush, and that wasn’t desirable.

Mom’s willingness to invite the Harmons and the Haynes’ showed me she was capable of change. Dad, however, was a different story. His attitude had always been that my sexuality was a product of their parenting. At forty-five, it was laughable. When I came out as a young guy, it was painful.

I made the two of us peanut butter and jelly sandwiches as he’d requested. I opened a bag of chips and poured them into a bowl before putting them on the table. When I heard West coming up the steps, I grinned as I sat and waited for him.

When West entered the room, he grinned. “Hayes wants me to be a bachelor in their auction.”

I, of course, immediately locked up. “He wants you to what?”

Weston smirked. “He wants to auction me off to raise money for their local rainbow community center. I said I'd talk to my partner about it and we’d decide together."

I chuckled. “Can I buy you? I mean, can I donate to keep anyone else from buying my boyfriend’s time?”

The surprised look on Weston’s face brought a grin from me. “You’re okay saying we’re boyfriends to other people? I didn’t know how you’d feel about telling other people that we’re boyfriends.”

I chuckled. “If that’s the word you want to use, I’m fine with it, and I’ll shout it from the rooftop. I’m also fine with any other word you want to use to describe our relationship. Honey, what did you think we were working toward?”

West washed and dried his hands before sitting across from me at the table staring into my eyes. “Sometimes I can’t believe you want us to make a life together. It seems unreal to me that someone so put together would want to take on a hot mess like me. I’ll ask them to rig the auction so you can buy me.”

“Thank you, and West, you’re not a hot mess. You’re just learning new things. You’ll be just fine.” I didn’t add that I had twenty more years of life experiences on him. I didn’t want to point out the age difference again. We’d settled that a long time ago.

While I didn’t like the idea of anything being rigged in my favor, when it came to spending time with my boyfriend, I’d pull out all the stops.

“Good morning, son. Sorry I’m late.”

I watched him pull out the chair and sit across from me, picking up his menu and perusing it without further comment. Something was definitely up.

I checked the time on my phone. “Only three minutes. How’s Mom?”

“It’s never acceptable to be late. If you’re not fifteen minutes early for an appointment, you’re already late.”

God, if I had a nickel for every time I heard that one.

“Anyway, I waited for you before I ordered.” I lifted my hand to signal to our server, who hurried over with a carafe of coffee.

After we ordered our breakfast, I stared at my father for a moment. “What’s going on? Why are you acting so jumpy?”

Dad sighed. “Your mother ran into Scott at Old Ebbett Grill yesterday. He asked about you. She told him you were just fine. Business is doing well, and you’re happy. He asked if it would be okay to call you, and she said not unless the two of you have any unfinished business. Do you have any unfinished business with Scott?”

“Aside from wanting back my youth without the cheating bastard in it? No. We sold the house and I got my half. He was never on any of the paperwork for the shop, so that’s never been an issue. As far as I’m concerned, our business is concluded. End of story.”

Dad nodded. “Did you get closure from how your marriage ended?”

Number one, my father wasn’t the person I expected to ask me that question. My need for closure on anything has never been his concern. “You’re a man and you always act like a man. You don’t cry and you don’t show anyone that you’re upset under any circumstances.” Again, if I had a nickel...