No Sacrifice Page 42

  Chance did as he was bid, then wrapped his arm around Patrick’s waist. Patrick settled back a little more, waiting for the show. He ended up elbowing his own lover when Chance started kissing on him. “Not in front of your grandmother. It’s bad enough she’s already seen me naked.”

  Chance laughed. “I’m quite sure you didn’t do anything for Gramma. I think she’s too old for that.”

  “That doesn’t help,” Patrick grumbled.

  All he got in response was a laugh.

  Vannah was way more entertaining than the game itself. Patrick lost count of the number of times Scarlett admonished her to watch her language. She kept jumping out of her seat, yelling at the refs—which she called zebras—and, in general, reacting to almost every play. Darcy mentioned that Patrick should be glad they weren’t in the stadium. She was downright scary there, with the face paint she wore on top of the shouting and excitement.

  During halftime, Gareth woke up and grumbled at Vannah for not waking him. She simply told him she wasn’t crazy enough to approach a sleeping bear—earning laughs from Patrick, Chance, and Darcy, and a scowl from Gareth—and focused again on the game as it started back up.

  Gareth, however, couldn’t leave it alone, especially since Scarlett had left the room. He sat up in the recliner, belched loudly, scratched his stomach, and sent another glare toward Patrick and Chance. “You actually watch football? I thought fairies didn’t like sports?” he asked, and Patrick felt Chance sigh. Patrick worked to contain his annoyance, knowing Gareth was just trying to get to them.

  He didn’t have time to say anything, anyway. Scarlett came back in right then and settled into the rocker. Patrick’s blood boiled at the smug smile on Gareth’s face, but he forced his attention back to the television and talked, instead, directly to Vannah, answering the question as if she’d asked it. “I like it, but I don’t watch it all that often. Out in Hawai’i, of course, we don’t have our own team, so we’re not so invested in it, you know?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, we’re lucky that way. Do you ever see the Pro Bowl?”

  Patrick smiled. “I’ve managed a couple, but it’s not easy to get tickets, and I’m not always home at the time. And, well, since it’s very rare for any of our own players to get into the game….” He shrugged.

  Vannah raised her eyebrows. “Your own?”

  “Hawai’ians. Last one was twenty years ago.”

  “Wow. Yeah, I can see that.” Vannah nodded. “You could always become a Falcons fan.” She grinned.

  Patrick laughed. “Maybe. Since I don’t have a team of my own.”

  Two minutes left of the game had Patrick and Chance sitting up, half paying attention to the plays and half to Vannah.

  “No! Fuck you! That is so not pass interference! He didn’t even touch him!”

  “Savannah Jane Cavannaugh! There are children present!” Scarlett shouted.

  Patrick snickered when Vannah basically ignored her. Scarlett sighed, rounded up the children, and bustled them out of the room.

  The two-minutes-that-were-really-fifteen passed with more tension than Patrick could ever remember experiencing around a game. Vannah alternately growled, groaned, cheered, cussed—quite a bit—and nearly cried. Then she screamed when the Falcons slipped a final touchdown in, sealing their victory. She didn’t seem to care that it was only by three points. They won, and that was all that seemed to matter.

  By the time Sunday rolled around, Patrick found himself feeling like he was really part of the family. He’d gotten used to calling Violet “Mama,” had done more chores than he used to have back in Hawai’i, had been punched more than once by Vannah, and had officially been dubbed “Uncle Patrick” by Rory and Zack. He wished, not for the first time that trip, that his own family was going to be half as accepting of Chance as Chance’s was of him. He’d have to just hope they would at least view Chance as his best friend and be welcoming because of that.

  Everyone there in Atlanta, though, had certainly made Patrick feel welcome. With one exception, of course.

  Gareth had taken every opportunity to get jabs in wherever he could. If Violet or Scarlett left the room for more than a minute, something nasty came out of his mouth. He learned pretty quickly that it didn’t bother Patrick if the comments were aimed at him, so he turned his venom toward Chance. Vannah gave it back to Gareth when she happened to hear it, but Gareth obviously didn’t give a damn what she said or thought. Chance seemed to withdraw more and more with each barb Gareth threw his direction, and that just pissed Patrick off even further. The martial arts he’d studied had emphasized defense, and it was only this fact—and not wanting to upset Chance—that had thus far kept Patrick from doing something he might regret.

  During tree trimming and decorating on Friday, Violet and Scarlett had been present most of the time. So Gareth had kept his nastiness mostly to looks, which were easier to ignore. Until the unlucky combination happened of Violet and Scarlett leaving the room and Chance crawling under the tree to put the skirt around the bottom.

  “Oh look, it’s Chance’s favorite place, on his knees. Isn’t that where all you gays prefer to be?”

  Before Patrick could swing, luckily, Vannah did. “Shut up, Gareth. You’re such a fucking ass,” she grumbled, then picked up the star and handed it to Darcy, turning her back on Gareth so his scowl was lost on her. “Dear? Would you mind?”

  Violet came back in, throwing a look at Gareth, then handed eggnog out, effectively ending the scene.

  Of course, that couldn’t be the last time Gareth got digs in. Violet decided to take advantage of having four men around and volunteered them to go outside and hang the lights she wanted along the roof, around the windows, and over the bushes. After they’d set up the ladder to get onto the roof, Patrick holding tools and Darcy stabilizing the ladder, Chance started up. Before he’d gotten more than halfway, however, Gareth finally showed up to “help.”

  “I didn’t think you girly boys’d wanna mess with tools,” Gareth said with a sneer. All three of the others ignored him, but unfortunately that didn’t seem to deter him. “You know, it’d be a shame if you broke a nail or messed up your hair. I know Chancie wouldn’t wanna risk not being pretty enough for his boyfriend.”

  Patrick dropped the tools and turned, tired of the taunts and insults. Quinn, Colin, Flynn, and Devin might have given him shit when he was younger—hell, even now—but none of them had been nearly this nasty.

  Before he could pull his hand back, though, Darcy grabbed him and held him back. “He’s not worth it, man. Seriously. He’s trying to get to you.”

  Patrick panted hard, working to get control of himself. He knew what Darcy was saying was true. All Gareth wanted to do was get to him. The problem was, it was working. He hated seeing the reactions Chance tried so hard to hide. He glared at Gareth, took another deep breath, and stood up, nodding to Darcy. “I’m fine,” he muttered, and when Darcy let go, he picked the tools back up. The three of them ignored Gareth completely after that, working together to put up Mama’s lights without him.

  Even during the carol-singing they’d done, Gareth had managed to slip in a comment. Violet went out to the kitchen to get more eggnog while Chance was tuning his guitar, and as soon as she left the room, Gareth started asking about high voices or something equally stupid. Patrick couldn’t tell because Vannah started talking over him, drowning him out. Patrick was especially grateful for this one because Avery was in the room, and he did not want his son learning those kinds of comments.

  He’d thought, in fact, that when they took the kids out to the zoo and Gareth declined to go they’d get a break. But just as they were settling into Vannah’s Honda, Gareth made sure to make an appearance. He’d decided to try jokes, since none of his insults seemed to be making the impression he wanted. Before he could get out the answer to his question—what do you call a group of homosexual lions?—Vannah closed the door in his face and started backing the car up, forcing him to move. His scowl only deep
ened, and Patrick had a feeling they’d be in for even more insults later on.

  But apparently he’d decided to go drinking with some friends Saturday night and was gone when they got back. So it wasn’t until Sunday morning, as they were packing up to head home, that they saw him again. The suitcases were by the front door, and the majority of the family crowded around the kitchen table, putting away the gravy and biscuits, eggs, sausage, and other things Violet had cooked for their last day. All except the kids, who were getting in a last-minute game of hide-and-seek in the backyard with Violet and Scarlett.

  “So, Patrick, you’ve got to let me take a picture with you before you go.” Vannah held up her camera.

  Patrick raised an eyebrow but shrugged. “Uh, okay. Why?”

  “My friends are never going to believe me.”

  Patrick groaned, and Chance laughed. “You know he’s still not used to that stuff, right?”

  Vannah frowned. “Not used to what?”

  “Fame. Pictures and autographs, that sort of stuff,” Chance said, grinning at a blushing Patrick.

  “Oh! Really?” Vannah grinned. Patrick nodded, making her chuckle. “Even better.”

  Patrick sighed. “You are so not funny,” he grumbled, and Vannah laughed.

  “Sisters aren’t supposed to be. I thought you knew that.”

  Patrick glared. “I do. Doesn’t mean I like it.”

  She grinned again and stuck her tongue out. “All the better for sisters. Come on,” she said, standing and handing the camera to Chance.

  Patrick rolled his eyes, then got an evil idea and leaned in to Chance’s ear. “I’m about to make your sister faint again. Just remember that I love you.” He stood up, and Chance raised his eyebrows but then seemed to get it and grinned. Patrick tilted his head toward Darcy, and Chance nodded. As he moved over next to Vannah, he watched Chance lean in to Darcy and whisper.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, glaring at Patrick.

  “Nothing,” he said, too innocently, waiting for Darcy to look back. Darcy grinned and nodded. Patrick returned it. “Okay,” he said, putting his arm around her back. With a wink at Chance, who held up the camera, Patrick waited a beat for Chance to snap a nice picture, then turned, dipped Vannah back and kissed her smack on the lips.

  He kept it chaste, which seemed to be enough to completely scramble her anyway, especially since he held it long enough to hear another click of the camera. When he stood up, she stared at him, openmouthed, for a full minute. He held onto her and waited, but nothing happened. Then, a few seconds later, just as he was about to step away, her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she started to fall over. He caught her just in time, snickering.

  “Damn. I haven’t done that to her in years.” Darcy came around the table and lifted his wife into his arms.

  “Sorry, man. I didn’t really think it’d do that. I mean… I joked about it to Chance, but….”

  Darcy shook his head, chuckling. “It’s all good. More to tease her about.” He set her in the chair and lightly smacked her face. “Vannah… baby….”

  She came around, opened her eyes, zeroed her gaze in on Patrick, and glared at him. “You did that on purpose!”

  “Uh, duh?” he said, making Chance and Darcy laugh.

  Vannah got up, rounded the table, and punched him in the shoulder. “You ass,” she hissed, but there wasn’t really any heat in it. Patrick grinned at her, and she rolled her eyes. “Men.” She shook her head and went back to her seat.

  “I didn’t think gays liked kissing women,” Gareth said as he came into the room.

  Vannah snorted. “Wow, you must really be hurting for insults, if that’s the best you could come up with.” She turned back to Patrick, ignoring the scowl Gareth threw. “So, Patrick,” she said, throwing a wicked grin at Chance. “When are you going to propose to my brother?”

  Patrick had made the mistake of picking up his coffee cup and sipping. He spit the liquid out onto the table to Vannah’s laughter. “Uh….” He looked over at Chance, who shrugged as if to say, I didn’t put her up to this. “Well, uh….” He shook his head to gather his wits. “I don’t know. My ex-wife’s been prodding me to marry him, though.”

  He grinned at Chance’s red cheeks, but the smile slid off his face at Gareth’s next words.

  “If you do, who wears the dress? Which one’s the bride? Will it be Chance? And does that make him the wife?”

  Patrick closed his eyes and counted to ten as Gareth spoke, but it didn’t seem to help. He heard Vannah hiss something, then punch Gareth, but of course, it didn’t even faze the man. Patrick opened his eyes again and went to speak. Before he could reply, the back door opened and three red-cheeked children, their grandmother and great-grandmother came in. Patrick threw a glare at Gareth, then turned to scoop up the cold Avery. “Hey, Stinker, did you have fun?”

  Blond curls bobbed as he nodded. “Yes! I found Zack and Rory easy! But Gramma and Nana were harder to find! They hide good.”

  “Well,” Chance automatically corrected him. “I bet you were hard to find too, weren’t you?”

  Avery nodded again. “Yes! I was the last one!” He grinned. “Gramma says I have a… tal… tal….” He screwed his little face up in thought.

  “Talent?” Patrick asked, and Avery nodded again.

  “Yes! Talent for hide-and-seek.” He kissed Patrick’s cheek, then leaned over and gave one to Chance. “I wish we could stay.”

  “Aww, Squirt, so do we. But your da and I have to go back to work.”

  Avery pouted.

  “We’ll come back and see them as soon as we can, okay? Maybe for Easter?” Patrick asked, looking up.

  Violet smiled and nodded. “We’d love to have you boys.”

  “Can’t we come for Christmas?” Avery asked.

  “Your mommy’s supposed to have you for Christmas.”

  “Oh! I forgot!” Avery shouted, eyes widening. “I gotta go to my mommy’s,” he said, turning to Violet. “I’m sorry, Gramma.”

  Violet’s smile widened. “That’s okay. I’m sure your mommy’s looking forward to it. We’ll see you soon.” She held her arms out, and Avery climbed out of Patrick’s lap to dash over to her.

  The final packing of the car involved some chaotic juggling, lots of hugs and kisses, a few tears on Avery’s and Rory’s parts, and more than a bit of fussing on Violet’s part. She bemoaned the fact that she couldn’t send a pie home, thanks to airport security, and made them promise to send pictures of Avery for her wall. At Chance’s warning they’d started this part very early, because he’d known it’d take a while to get untangled from the family.

  Patrick finally slipped out to load their backpacks and Chance’s guitar into the car. As he turned around to head back in, however, he saw Gareth and Chance at the bottom of the steps, arguing.

  “Back off, Gareth. Just get lost,” Chance growled.

  Patrick approached slowly, trying to remind himself that beating Chance’s brother to a pulp was a bad thing.

  “I’m just lookin’ out for you, little bro.” Gareth shrugged a shoulder. “I mean, ya know, it’s just hard bein’ one of them gays out there.” Patrick could almost believe Gareth actually thought he was helping. “It’s just that, well, you know, if you were better, it might not matter so much.”

  Noise started building in Patrick’s head, rage at the bullshit Gareth was spouting, the days of insults and snide remarks finally knocking his tolerance to the breaking point. Patrick watched Chance’s face darken, scowl deepen, and fists clench tighter. That’s when what Gareth said got through the noise in Patrick’s head. If you were better….

  “I mean, you can pick okay, but there’s more to succeedin’ than that, and bein’ a queer ain’t gonna help. You gotta drop that fairy you’re with and forget this gay shit. Maybe you’d be worth somethin’ if you got some lessons or—”

  Gareth didn’t get to finish his words. Patrick took the last two steps, spun Gareth around, and planted hi
s fist in the middle of Gareth’s stunned face. Blood spurted from Gareth’s nose, and his arms windmilled as he tried to stay on his feet. But his balance was already gone, and a few seconds later he landed hard on his ass.

  Patrick flexed his hand, shaking it out, annoyed with himself that he’d let his anger get the best of him. He hadn’t held his fist right, and now his knuckles were hurting.

  “You fuckin’ athole! You bro’e by dose!” Gareth shouted, struggling to his feet. Blood still poured down his face, and his nose had already started to swell. One hand came up to wipe at it, and he winced.

  “One more homophobic word out of your mouth about Chance—who is three times the man you will ever be—and I will break more than your nose.” Patrick’s quiet voice apparently got through because Gareth backed up.

  “You’ll regwet dis.” Gareth spat blood into the grass, then turned and pushed past Chance and into the house.

  Chance crossed over to Patrick. And now that it was over, Patrick couldn’t quite look at his boyfriend. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I shouldn’t have let him get to me. He’s your brother, I—” He was cut off when his chin was tilted up and Chance’s lips were on his. It took him a minute to overcome being stunned and return the kiss. When they broke apart, Patrick saw Chance’s grin.

  “Thank you.”

  Patrick blinked at him. “You… I… uh… you’re welcome. You’re not mad?”

  “Oh, hell no. No one’s ever stood up for me like that before. I mean, Vannah does to Gareth, but….”

  Patrick grinned. “Well, he shouldn’t have insulted you. Especially your music. No one does that to the man I love.”

  Chance’s smile widened even more. “I love you too.” He stepped back and lifted Patrick’s hand, then frowned. “That’s going to bruise.”

  Patrick looked down at his hand and saw his knuckles starting to swell. He shrugged. “It’s worth it. He’s had it coming since we got here.”

  They turned to go into the house when Violet came through the door. “Are you two okay?” she asked, hurrying down the steps. She looked over Chance and, satisfied he was okay, turned to Patrick. She saw Chance holding his hand up and pulled it to herself to inspect him. “Damn. We better get some ice on that.”