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But it’s for Tobias’s sake. I don’t know what it would take to impress his dad because I cannot fathom a person who thinks the way he does. But at the end of the day, Tobias has been a good friend to me over the last few weeks and I have his back.
“What?” his father roars, his chest puffing up with pride. “Is that so, my boy?”
“Is he for real?” I say to Tobias, using eye-communication again.
He replies with a look of his own that says, “You have no idea!”
“Da, can we talk?” Tobias says quietly, leading his father off to the side, away from the majority of the crowd.
“Sure, sure.”
“I think you’ve known for a long time that I’m not who you’d like me to be—”
Oh, shit! Is Tobias doing this now? Here?I’m one hundred percent for owning your truth and living it loudly, but given the present company of industry insiders, I don’t think this is in Tobias’s best interests.
“Uh, Tobias...” I say, placing a hand on his forearm.
He looks my way, a sadness in his eyes that breaks my heart. He knows what he’s doing and what’s going to happen when he does it. But truth is more important than the lie his dad wants to believe.
I make to move away, giving them some privacy for this family conversation, but Tobias takes my hand. And if he wants my support, I’m here to give it. And maybe get that ball kick in on his dad if the situation calls for it, which I fully expect to happen.
“Autumn is my friend. Nothing more, nothing less. I don’t have a girlfriend, have never had one, in fact. Because...” He meets his dad’s eyes boldly, not flinching in the slightest. “I like men, Da.”
The moment freezes. Other than Tobias squeezing my hand and me squeezing his back, there’s nothing. Then, his dad starts to laugh raucously. “Good one, boy. You almost had me there.” He’s laughing so hard that he’s slapping his knee, his belly drooping down and jiggling. “My boy, gay. Pshaw.”
Tobias and I meet eyes and shrug. Tobias tries again. “Seriously. My longest relationship was with a fellow named Marquis. We lived together for nearly three years.”
It’s sinking in as Tobias speaks, and his dad realizes that this isn’t some elaborate joke and there is no punchline.
“What?” he hisses, looking around as though someone here might overhear and judge Tobias. If anything, they’d judge his father. This is fashion, after all, and for the most part, we’re an accepting bunch. “No son of mine—”
Whatever hateful thing Tobias’s father was about to say is cut off by Simon coming up behind us. Simon throws one arm over my shoulder and the other over Tobias’s, his head popping into the space between us. And then he plants a big one on Tobias’s cheek as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Hey, what’d you think of the auction?”
Tobias’s father is sputtering, his mouth opening and closing like a fish pleading for water. His eyes jump from Tobias to Simon to me, and then back again, bugging out more and more.
“What in the bloody ’ell?” roars Tobias’s dad.
That definitely grabs everyone’s attention, and his dad does not want that, nor people seeing Simon with his arm around Tobias.
“Boy, if this is the way you want it,” he snarls, looking on the verge of an angry heart attack, “then you can fuck off.” He whirls, storming off.
“Holy shit,” I whisper as I watch the man go. He’s stomping through the garden, people hopping out of his way as he gets close to them. I realize Tobias is watching his father leave too. “I’m so sorry, Tobias.”
He turns, and I realize that Simon still has one arm over each of our shoulders, his grin savage. “No need to thank me, man.”
“What the hell?” Tobias stammers. “I mean, thank you... I think, but... why?”
“Because you’re my friend. As I was walking up, I could hear what was going on, and I know what you’ve said about your dad. I figured I could help him come to terms with it a little quicker.” Simon’s idea was right, but damn, that’s some ballsy support to a friend in the middle of a gala with photographers everywhere.
Simon winks and then grabs Tobias’s shoulders, shaking him wildly as he shouts, “We did it, man! The kids are going to be so happy! Tonight’s the best!” He grabs my champagne and tosses it back in one go before turning around and holding up the empty glass triumphantly. “Thank you, everyone!”
People who had been watching as though they couldn’t turn away from a train wreck are already changing their tune. Simon Corbin kissing Tobias’s cheek just went from scandalous to a drunken celebration of a good turnout for a great cause. They hold their flutes up in response, and conversation returns to normal. Or as normal as it gets around here.
Back to us, Simon says in his completely sober voice, “Hope I didn’t go too far?”
Tobias smiles back, his eyes glassy. “Thank you.”
“Well, I feel a bit like a third wheel,” I tease, “so if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to run to the ladies’ room.”
