No Sacrifice Read online

  Patrick’s face split into a huge grin. Tutu was, by far, his favorite relative. Makaha Kahananui was, as her name meant, fierce. She was a formidable woman who had sent more than one of Patrick’s siblings into crying fits when they were younger and even kept his own mother on the straight and narrow—sometimes. His mom had once confessed to him that Makaha had been her favorite auntie when she was young and had loved and respected the woman almost as much as her own mother, though her mother, of course, always ruled.

  Tutu’s ability to send the kids into crying fits was usually because they were doing something wrong. Patrick had certainly been caught on his share of occasions, but he’d managed to avoid being called in front of her too many times. His mother dished out punishment, but the worst was usually reserved for Tutu. If you found yourself facing her… well, two of his siblings actually peed themselves long after they were out of diapers when they were forced to explain themselves to Tutu.

  After tight hugs and more chaos, Patrick, Avery, and the rest of the clan settled into the large sunken living room of the first floor of his parents’ house. The house itself, a contemporary built in the ’50s, had been in their family for four generations now. Tutu’s grandmother had first moved into it right after it’d been built and passed it on to Patrick’s great-grandfather. It had gone on to Patrick’s grandmother and grandfather, who’d taken Tutu in when her husband died. Then later, when his da refused to uproot his mama from her beloved islands, the house had been expanded to add another floor above it, to include two full living spaces.

  He loved the house. There were plenty of tiny places he could hide to get away from his siblings and pretend to be anyone. He’d spent time as a pirate, as a spy, and as Indiana Jones, among others, always acting out some part or other—until his older siblings made too much fun of him. Tutu yelled at them for it, but that only helped if she was around.

  As the conversation settled in among the adults, there were questions about Emily, and Patrick explained her upcoming filming schedule. He was grateful when they didn’t ask further, though his mother and father both looked like they didn’t accept it all at face value. Patrick was reminded again how wise it was to keep his mouth shut. As traditional as his mother and father were—both having been raised Catholic—he had no doubt they wouldn’t take it well.

  In fact, he managed to dodge anything major that night. He tucked Avery into bed next to him and lay for a long time, staring at the ceiling. He was at loose ends, not sure where he was supposed to go from there.

  Should he ask Chance out? And what about Rhys?

  He sighed and rolled over. Just as he was about to go to sleep, he got a text message. He swiped his finger across the screen to see it was from Chance. Hope you made it to HI okay. Enjoy the time with your family. Can’t wait to meet Avery.

  Patrick smiled. He’d needed that bit of contact. He shot off a reply, glancing at the clock. Isn’t it late for you? he asked, then: Say hi to Marcy and Sophia for me. We’ll be home in a couple of weeks. Avery wants to meet you too.

  When Patrick got the reply, his smile spread into a grin.

  Sophia says you’re supposed to have a drink *on* her when you come in next, and Marcy is demanding you bring Avery the minute you’re in town. Yeah, it’s late. Can’t sleep. Talk soon.

  Patrick sent back a reply, then set the phone on the bedside table. When he fell asleep a few minutes later, he was smiling.

  He managed to dodge questions about him and Emily for more than a week. Patrick took Avery to the beach a lot, watched as he proudly brought bugs and other creatures to them as gifts, and showed his son around everywhere he could think of for a three-year-old boy to enjoy. It was a different experience for him at home, where usually he hung out with his old high-school friends or just spent time on the beach with his family.

  They went to the zoo and the aquarium. His mother went along for the discovery center, though, thankfully, she was too busy chasing after Avery to ask him too much. His da accompanied them for the battleship and submarine. The millions of dials, levers, and switches fascinated Avery, and Patrick’s da spent a lot of time holding Avery back so he didn’t try to play with them, yet again giving Patrick the reprieve from explaining.

  Two of Patrick’s brothers—Quinn and Flynn—tagged along for surfing. It’d been a long time since he’d been on a board, and he wasn’t about to go far with Avery along. But Avery seemed to be made for the water, and the one time he fell off, he surfaced on his own before Patrick could get to him, paddling as if he had fins instead of feet. Despite being so close to shore, it had still scared the crap out of him. Patrick’s heart didn’t slow until much later that night.

  It was because of all of this that he managed to avoid talking about much from a personal perspective. He just wasn’t sure how he was going to explain to his mother that he and Emily had split—and that they didn’t hate each other. So, his best defense had been to hide.

  He stuck close to Tutu for part of the time there, as well. Avery was a little frightened of her at first, but he warmed up after a while, and once he did, it was rare to see them separated. It helped Patrick too, because it made sense for him to be near his son, and as long as he was with Tutu, he didn’t have to worry about people bugging him.

  It was too good to last, and Patrick knew it. He made it through fourteen days of general talk about the show, filming, LA, and his friends. He got them talking about their own lives, work, and families. But on the Saturday before he and Avery were to fly out, the entire family gathered in the backyard for a huge covered dish party.

  Colin and his wife, Makani, were deep in a heated discussion about education with Leia and her husband, Christian. Patrick happily left them to it, knowing he’d never survive an argument with either Leia or Makani—both of whom taught at the elementary school in central Kane’ohe.

  His sister Alana, Flynn, and his wife, Joy, were busy trying to keep all the nieces and nephews from going out into the water from the beach at the edge of the property. One of his younger nephews had already gotten stuck in the tiny mud patch less than an hour after dinner started.

  So Patrick was happily sitting in the corner with Noa and Devin, his two younger siblings. He’d hoped they wouldn’t ask, but he, of course, wasn’t that lucky.

  “So,” Noa said, “tell us what’s really going on with Emily and your show.”

  Patrick raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Come on, Pat,” Devin said, using the nickname Patrick detested. He glared at his brother. Devin continued, unabashed. “We know something’s up.”

  Patrick shook his head. “You’re nuts. Batshit,” he said, pretending to look around for Avery, though he knew quite well Avery was explaining the differences between two identical beetles to Tutu.

  Noa snorted. “Puh-lease. We know better. Do you think we were born yesterday?”

  Patrick chuckled. “No, two days ago.”

  Noa, to prove her maturity, stuck her tongue out at him. Patrick laughed for real, then took a drink of his beer, which he promptly spit out when Noa asked, “So, what’s it like to kiss Rhys Hadley?”

  “Aha! I knew it!” Devin said, sitting up and pointing at Patrick.

  “Knew what?” Patrick asked irritably.

  “There’s something between you, and that’s why Em’s not here. Is she mad? I bet she is. Are you in the doghouse?” Noa asked, eyes widening. “Oh shit, you are! She’s kicked you out!”

  “I have not been kicked out, Noa,” Patrick growled. “Stop making shit up.” He turned to Devin. “There’s nothing between Rhys and me, for fuck’s sake.”

  “But you didn’t say nothing happened, did you?” Devin asked.

  Patrick sighed and looked around at the rest of his family, all thoroughly absorbed in their conversations. The fairy lights twinkled overhead, the music his mother insisted on—traditional Hawai’ian—turned too low to hear, and the food table still groaned under its load, hours after the dinner
had started. Satisfied that they were the only ones listening, he turned back. “Yes, something happened. During one of the scenes with Rhys I… uh….” He glanced at Noa and knew his face was turning red. “Reacted.”

  Devin’s eyes widened, and Noa slapped her hand over her mouth. “Holy shit! Really?” Devin asked.

  Patrick nodded. “Yeah. It was weird. I thought maybe I was, like, suddenly gay or something.” He shook his head. “No, not quite, but… I am bi.” This last came out on a whisper.

  Noa’s eyes got even bigger in her small pixie face. Her red hair stood in contrast with the pale skin, which seemed even lighter than usual, her freckles standing out even more. “But… you can’t be bi.”

  Patrick scowled. “Why not?”

  “But… you’re straight!” she said, frowning.

  “No, I’m not. I like both. What’s wrong with that?” he asked them, but neither Devin nor Noa replied. “What?” he asked, again.

  “Maybe you’re not. Maybe it’s just been too long since you and Em spent any real time together,” Devin offered.

  Patrick shook his head. “No. And we were together when I was in Vancouver. But that’s not how it works.”

  Devin’s black hair glowed with the light of the fire behind him, and his scowl made him look almost satanic. “I don’t know about ‘how it works,’” he said, “but I don’t believe for one minute you’re bi. What’s Emily got to say about it? Maybe you need to give up on this show and go spend some time with her. Fuck her a few dozen times. That’ll cure you.”

  Patrick was getting seriously pissed. He looked from Devin to Noa and back again. He’d thought, just maybe, at least these two might understand. He’d known they were straight, but he’d imagined them to be accepting, if nothing else. He took a deep breath, trying to rein in the temper. The Irish in him was rising, and he knew if he wasn’t careful he’d say something he’d regret. “Noa, come on. You’ve had gay friends. I know you have. Did you say shit like this to them?”

  “No, but… that’s them. That’s not you. You were married, and… happily! To a woman! How can you suddenly be gay?” she asked, shaking her head.

  “I. Am. Not. Gay,” he said through gritted teeth. “I am bi. Bisexual. I like both. What the fuck is wrong with you two?”

  “We’re not the ones that have something wrong with them,” Devin said, sounding pissed himself. “We’re not out cheating on wives, pretending to be straight.”

  Patrick was on his feet without even realizing it and had Devin out of the chair and held in front of him by his shirt. “You asshole, who said anything about cheating?”

  “Isn’t that what it is, then? Why Em’s not here? Why you suddenly think you’re gay?”

  “I. Am. Not. Gay!” Patrick roared. He kept his head enough to say, “We’re taking a break, alright? We’re separated!” But then, at Devin’s disbelieving look, he lost it the rest of the way. “No, I can’t fuck her a dozen times to get it out of my head! No, I am not suddenly gay! Get that through your thick fucking skull, asshole!”

  He dropped a very stunned Devin into a heap in the grass and stalked through the now-silent backyard and into the house. He made it all the way to the room he shared with Avery and slammed the door hard enough for pictures and windows to rattle.

  He slumped onto the bed, breathing heavily, and dropped his face into his hands. He’d known before he even got there that, when it came out, it would be ugly. He’d expected some censure. He just hadn’t quite expected that. And that had only been two of them. There were eight more to tell.

  He didn’t know how long he sat like that. His phone had buzzed a couple of times, but he ignored it. He didn’t worry about Avery, sure his son was still with Tutu. He was too busy trying to figure out how to pack and get out of the house without seeing anyone, especially his mama and da. Somehow, he didn’t think he’d manage it.

  Some time later, he heard the thunk of wood on the stairs. His stomach dropped, and his palms started sweating. Tutu. Oh shit.

  The knock barely made enough sound to catch his attention. Were it not for the cane thumps, he wouldn’t have known to listen for it. He swallowed his nervousness, wiped his hands on his shirt, and finally went to open the door.

  He opened it slowly, his stomach tying itself in some very complicated, very tight knots. Tutu’s face was as severe as he’d ever seen it, and he swallowed again, trying to find his voice. He stepped back and waved a hand, watching her thump her cane across the small space and settle in on the bed, cane between her knees and hands resting on the top.

  “Get that chair over there, sit here in front of me, and tell me everything,” Tutu said.

  It never occurred to Patrick to disobey. He was a grown man, father of his own child, but somehow the order was one he just couldn’t imagine not following. But there was something in the calm tone of voice that told him it’d be okay. Tutu had always been fair, even if she’d scared the shit out of him.

  He sat down, took a deep breath, and started. She said nothing, simply sat and listened. The words rushed in a torrent, everything from reacting to Rhys to separating from Emily to making friends with Chance. He told her about Marcy and Sophia and everything that had happened over the last three months. The only thing that told him she was awake and listening was the occasional nod and the fact that her dark eyes were fixed very obviously on him.

  When the words ran out, she didn’t speak for a long time. She’d once told him that rushing was usually useless and often only got people into trouble. He’d never truly taken that advice… until recently. And he didn’t realize how much he had until just now.

  “In nineteen sixty-four,” she began, “I fell in love.” Patrick braced himself for the story he’d heard many times before, though he didn’t remember the dates. “He was military, like your da was, and he knew just how to wear a uniform. He was well aware of just how good he looked in it too.” She chuckled at a memory, then brought herself back. “This was, oh, about halfway through the Vietnam War, and our boys were still being trained and sent over.” She paused and looked at the puzzled expression he was sure was on his face. He didn’t remember his uncle being a Vietnam War vet.

  “It wasn’t your uncle, Patrick,” she said, then continued. “He was here on his way. He’d come over from California and was to continue on from here. I was working at the time, running the cash register and serving drinks at one of the little bars in town. Back then, I was thin and pretty. Most of the military guys tried to get me to go out with them.” She shook her head. “But I turned them all down. I wasn’t interested in that, you know, getting stuck with one that might never come back.”

  She shifted on the bed to get a better seat. “Well, anyway, this one wouldn’t take no for an answer, and I finally agreed to go for ice cream with him. Persistence, you see,” she said, nodding and winking. “After that… I was lost. All my arguments, everything I’d sworn I wouldn’t do, well, I did them. I’m not going to bore you with all of it, but two days before he was set to leave, he proposed. And I turned him down. I was so sure that I’d never see him again, you see. So sure I’d end up a widow with nothing to show for it.”

  She sighed. “He left the next day instead of two. And he came back. He’d managed to make it up through the ranks and was an officer. But by the time he got back, I was married to your uncle. And he was still in love with me.”

  She looked down at her hands, then up to him and gave him a gaze so piercing, it was as if she knew the one thing he hadn’t told her—he liked Chance. “Don’t make my mistake. You and Emily don’t belong together. When I was young, divorce, well… divorced women were still a scandal. But now….” She shook her head. “You shouldn’t be tied if you’re not in love.”

  She heaved herself off the bed, stepped around him, and laid a hand on his shoulder. “They’ll get over it. Do what’s right for you and Avery.” And with that, she was gone.

  Patrick sat in the chair for a long time, staring into space. He’d j
ust gotten comfort, permission, and understanding from the last person he’d expected. And he didn’t quite know what to do with it.

  The last few days of his trip to Hawai’i were extremely uncomfortable, to put it mildly. It would have cost a small fortune to change the tickets, though, and despite the money Emily was going to send to help with Avery, he was very aware that it was now a much more precious commodity. So, he’d stayed.

  His mother wasn’t really talking to him. She gave him a look that told him she knew more than he was telling, but apparently Tutu hadn’t passed on what he’d talked about. So, all she knew was they were “taking a break”—which was, it seemed, bad enough, because the times she did talk to him about it, it involved “fixing it” or some other blistering lecture about marriage and making things work. Patrick’s da just didn’t seem to know what to say, though Patrick knew part of that was because Shaughn Tearney was torn between supporting his wife and figuring out his son. As he was never the most outwardly affectionate man when it came to his children, this didn’t really surprise Patrick. It certainly didn’t help things either.

  But Devin sort of apologized, at least for his nasty words, though he said he still didn’t understand. And still insisted Patrick go back to Emily and apologize and try to get back with her.

  Oddly, it was Alana and Quinn, his next older siblings, who told him they didn’t care, they just loved him. Well, Alana did. Quinn just sort of nodded, pounded him on the back, then offered to buy him a beer. For Quinn, that was a confession of love. Flynn, Colin, and Leia had gone back home with their families. None of them had said much to him except good-bye, but he had a feeling they weren’t any happier about it than their mom was.