Fic: Mine, All Mine (3/4) -- Sweet Home Alabama (movie)
Six weeks of respite from his mother’s whirlwind expectations had Andrew feeling uncharacteristically loose and relaxed. He knew the time clock on his temporary parole from Kate Hennings’s expectations was quickly counting down.
But Andrew was every inch his mother’s son and could be just as stubborn and tenacious when he chose to be. He’d used the time to cement his intention to stay far away from politics.
For now, he was still with Dorovsic, Dorovsic, Hennings, and Henderson but he’d already set that and other changes in motion. He'd just come from NYU, where he’d signed up for creative writing classes. He had majored in English Literature in undergrad. Somehow, he’d forgotten how much he’d loved the flex and play of the written word in the pressure of law school and his subsequent career.
Oddly, his ongoing text conversations had brought that love back full force. The challenge of getting as much meaning in a few words was an exhilarating re-awakening of his old passion.
It would take awhile to get out of his partnership in the law firm, but he looked forward to the day he was free of it. It wasn’t like he’d end up some starving author in a lonely garret somewhere. His bank account and various trust funds were enough to keep him more than comfortable for the rest of his life even if he never worked again.
Not that he’d be able to do that. Sitting idle had never been an aspiration. Honestly, he figured he’d be bored inside a week out of the law firm if he didn’t find something else to do. Writing, though, that might be enough of a challenge to keep him focused for awhile. If it wasn’t enough, well, he had the resources to find something else.
Andrew walked from the Registration office to his favorite local café, tapping away at his phone.
It’s done. I’m a college student again. WTF did I do?:)
He settled into a comfortable chair with his coffee and waited for a reply. Sitting in his usual spot in the café it was odd how normal his life felt. And how completely alien. He’d started looking toward a new career. A whole new set of goals and priorities. A new way of looking at himself.
As far as his suddenly flexible sexuality, Andrew had kind of settled into his own version of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. For the time being, at least, he wasn’t going to shout it from the rooftops. He wasn’t going to deny it, either, to himself or anyone else.
Especially since, while he had notice the attractiveness of other men more consciously, he hadn’t met a guy he’d wanted to come out of his recent self-imposed seclusion for.
Of course, he hadn’t met any women who pulled at him that way, either.
Hearing the beep of Bobby Ray’s latest text made him happier than flirting with any other members of either sex would have.
Sound from his phone pulled him back to the here and now. It took him a second to warily register it wasn’t the singular beep of a text but the repetitive tone of an incoming call. The number, however, was definitely Bobby Ray’s.
“Hello?” he answered, trying to keep the surprise from raising his voice a couple of embarrassing octaves.
“Andrew. How ya doin’?”
Hearing his name in that warm drawl sent hot shivers down Andrew’s spine and made him wish he was home alone, rather than sitting in a public café.
“Andrew?”
“Yeah. Hi. Sorry. Just surprised to actually hear you.”
“Well, you know me. Like to keep people on their toes. Now you’re officially a student again, huh? How’s it feel?”
“Strange,” he admitted. “Really strange. But good. I didn’t even realize how much I wanted to be doing this until I let myself admit how much I didn’t want to be doing what I was doing.”
“Have you told your mother yet?”
Andrew groaned at the memory.
“That bad, huh?”
“No. I mean she has been so freaky. She just patted my hand and told me she was glad I was finding something to get me out of my apartment again. I’d almost rather she was nagging me to come to some political dinner or find a date. I’d know how to deal with that, how to protect myself from her machinations.”
“Mama’s can be sneaky.”
“No kidding. I have no doubt she’s going to blindside me one of these days. I won’t even see it coming.”
“Maybe she’s realized she can’t control you life anymore. Maybe she’s finally let go.”
For several breaths, they were both silent while they contemplated the possibility.
Andrew broke the silence with a snort of disbelief followed by Bobby Ray’s laughter. The smooth chuckle in his ear immediately reminded him of waking up in the man’s arms, with his breath on Andrew’s neck and their bodies pressed close together.
Andrew closed his eyes and enjoyed the sound, let it roll through him while trying not to squirm in his seat.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t laugh. I only met your mama the once, but she’s as tenacious as Clinton with the last piece of pecan pie.”
“Tell me about it,” he muttered, thinking that if she hadn’t been so inflexible, his life may be very different now. Then again, if it was, he might not be enjoying the simple sound of Bobby Ray’s voice in his ear at the moment.
Which reminded him, why exactly was he hearing that voice? They’d stuck to texts so far.
As if reading his mind, Bobby Ray cleared his throat and his voice sounded tight and uncertain when he spoke.
“So there’s a reason I called.”
“Oh?”
Andrew tried to keep the tenor of his voice nonchalant, but his whole body tensed, and he found himself leaning forward, free hand braced on his knee.
Andrew didn’t want Bobby Ray to tell him he was dating someone. Or that he was tired of this ridiculous, juvenile thing they were doing with texts. Or that Jake and Melanie were uncomfortable with their friendship.
He didn’t want Bobby Ray to say that their… relationship, whatever its definition might be, was over.
Then Andrew’s brain caught up with what Bobby Ray was actually saying, instead of the imaginary, terrifying conversation going on in his head.
“…Jake is coming up to New York to see Melanie in a couple of week and I’m tagging along…”
Andrew pulled the phone away from his mouth and let the breath he’d been holding escape in a rush of relief. Before confusion set in.
“Wait. What? Melanie’s here, without Jake?”
Bobby Ray’s words cut off abruptly, and Andrew realized there were all kinds of wrong conclusions the southerner could jumped to about his curiosity. All wrong, of course. He’d put Melanie in his past and had no interest in going there again.
“I’m not… I don’t want… I’m just confused. I thought they were staying married. Staying together.”
“Ah.” When Bobby Ray finally responded with that single word, Andrew was happy to hear what sounded like relief. “They are still together, but her work is up there and his is down here. For now. Besides visiting with her, he is looking at opening a store up there somewhere.”
“Oh.” It was all a little too much to process. He’d figure out how he felt about his ex-fiancée and her husband living in his backyard, later. Much later. “Um, how long will you be here?”
“Only a few days, this time.”
“This time?”
“Uh, yeah.” Bobby Ray cleared his throat. “I’m, uh, sort of investing in Jake’s business. I’m going to take over running down here while he focuses on getting things up and running up there. He and I will probably be back and forth, coordinating pretty often for awhile.”
Pleasure, hope and fear twisted a weird three-way tango in his stomach. The idea of seeing Bobby Ray again, and possibly seeing him often, was exhilarating. And terrifying. It was something he’d secretly wanted for weeks. But it was something he wasn’t sure he was ready for, either.
“That’s great.” He had no idea what he wanted to say and the words kept tangling in his mouth as thought after thought continued to slam into each other.
“We should… I’d like to… I mean, would you like to get together while you’re here? Maybe dinner? Or are you going to be too busy?”
Bobby Ray stayed silent so long, Andrew began to feel his heart sink. He tensed again, and his muscles quivered from the emotional roller coaster he couldn’t seem to get off of today.
When the southern drawl finally came through his phone, Andrew nearly jumped out of his chair in surprise and relief.
“By dinner, do you mean, two friends sharing a meal? Or do you mean something akin to a date?” Before he could even open his mouth to answer Bobby Ray was speaking again. “Because either is good with me. We haven’t really… I’m talking about… It hasn’t really come up. But I’d just like to know… I just think we should be on the same page…”
Andrew smiled and his limbs loosen, allowing him to finally relax back into his chair. This time it was Bobby Ray whose words were spilling all over. Andrew wasn’t the only one confused by this strange limbo they’d placed themselves in.
“A date,” he heard himself say. “I definitely think it should be a date.”
“Good. That’s good. I’d like that.”
They talked for several more minutes, filling in details and plans before finally, reluctantly, hanging up.
Buoyed by endorphins, Andrew walked home with a spring in his step and a smile so wide spread across his face, his cheeks ached from the stretch.
Only after he closed the door and settled himself into his apartment did the first tendril of panic start to wrap themselves around his lungs.
A date. He had a date. With a man.
Was he ready for this?
Sure he’d been detonating his old life, piece by piece without a backward glance. Eschewing politics. Starting the process of getting out of the law firm. Looking towards new job possibilities.
That was his career, though. It didn’t change who he was, fundamentally.
And there was the question he couldn’t quite answer yet. Did dating Bobby Ray change him? Or did it finally allow him to be who he really was?
*
When the town car pulled up in front of Bobby Ray’s hotel, Andrew’s stomach didn’t have butterflies. It had birds. Big, giant, New York City pigeons fluttering around and banging against his insides.
First dates were always a little nerve wracking. But his first date, ever, with a man? Not just any man, but Bobby Ray. Who had filled the gaping void in his life Melanie had left.
Hell, if Andrew was honest with himself, Bobby Ray filled that space better than Melanie ever had.
Smart, funny, honest, good looking. That was only the beginning. The man could make Andrew’s heart race and his skin heat with as simple, well-worded text. The sound of that southern drawl over the phone made him so hard sometimes, it was embarrassing.
Seeing him, being able to smell him, to touch him….
Andrew’s breath sped up, his heart flooded his skin with heat and his veins with a pounding pulse.
Andrew had never been this on edge before a date with a woman. Probably because none of them had ever meant as much to him as Bobby Ray.
The pigeons began to riot again. His hands shook and his breath came out in short pants.
Of course, his mini-panic attack struck at the moment the driver opened the door. Before he could gather himself, Bobby Ray was there, poking his head in the door and sliding onto the seat next to Andrew.
After the initial greeting, they both seemed to be at a loss for words. Bobby Ray looked out the window at the passing lights of the city as Andrew racked his brain for something to say, but only inane pleasantries ricocheted around in his head.
The awkward silence grew, filling the space between them with a ratcheting tension.
“Nice car.” The sudden sound of Bobby Ray’s low murmur in the hush left Andrew blinking and unable to come up with a coherent reply.
Then Bobby Ray smiled, that big, infectious grin spilling across his face and a matching sparkle in his eye.
“Makes me feel kinda' like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman.”
The snort of laughter tumbled out of Andrew’s mouth and, just like that, the pigeons flew away. The tension filling the car disappeared and both men relaxed.
“If you’re wearing thigh high boots under those khakis, I don’t want to know about it.”
Bobby Ray winked, then lowered his voice into a smoldering rumble. “Well, at least not until after dinner.”
With the ice broken, the rest of the ride was filled with the easy banter and comfortable camaraderie they’d built over the past few months.
Andrew had carefully chosen a casual restaurant, one with a cozy atmosphere. While Bobby Ray had looked nice dressed up the night of Andrew’s almost wedding, he knew the southerner well enough by now to know he preferred his current khakis and blue button down over a tie and a jacket.
Andrew had agonized over his own wardrobe choice, until he’d finally settled on a black turtleneck and black tailored pants. The approving once over Bobby Ray gave him when they got out of the car made his heart race and consider the hour of indecision well worth it.
Andrew arranged for an intimate, secluded table in an alcove of the restaurant. Laughter, wine and good food flowed between them. He couldn’t remember when he’d ever felt so carefree and at ease.
While they finished the main course and discussed the merits of dessert, Andrew allowed his hand to creep toward where Bobby Ray’s rested near his glass.
As their fingertips brushed, his name, called across the restaurant had him jerking back in surprise. Andrew’s heart hammered in his ears and he felt his face flush as if he’d been caught doing something much more lurid than not-quite-holding-hands. He searched the dimly lit restaurant until he caught sight of a man waving from a table of four obviously getting ready to leave.
Eric Fitzgerald.
They’d been rivals all through prep school. Competing at grades, sports and girls. They’d met again in law school and the competition had only ratcheted up. Andrew had almost always come out on top, which had left Eric only snark and sarcasm to try and downplay any of Andrew’s accomplishments.
Old, conditioned responses wrapped themselves around Andrew like a shield and he stood to meet the man. Eric’s handshake and one armed hug felt like a well-rehearsed move.
“Andrew Hennings, long time, no see. How the hell are you?” Eric paused, his face falling into a practiced look of thoughtfulness but Andrew could see the glee glinting in his eyes when he said, “I heard about the wedding. I’m so sorry.”
Andrew allowed his shoulders to stiffen, but muscle memory kept him from giving Fitzgerald the pleasure of any other show of weakness.
Instead, he shrugged and smiled his best political dinner smile. “You know how it goes. All the girls I dumped in school, I suppose it’s karma.”
It was a subtle dig, a reminder that, most of those girls he’d dumped, he’d stolen from Eric to begin with. Andrew was rewarded with a minute, split-second frown. His old rival glanced around until his eyes landed on Bobby Ray.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your dinner.”
Andrew knew Eric was fishing, looking for something, any button to push and he kept himself completely calm on the outside. Inside though, dread began to fill him. He could feel bands of fear wrap around his chest, feel the dinner he’d just eaten become heavy and acidic in his stomach. He wasn’t ready for this. Wasn’t ready to defend or deflect or deal with outsiders.
“Eric, this is Bobby Ray a friend… of a friend. In town for business.”
He felt transparent and obvious, but Eric’s disappointed frown told him his relaxed façade had fooled his old rival. Another couple of minutes and Eric met the rest of his party and left.
Andrew sat and stared at his tightly clasped hands, too embarrassed to look at his date.
“Friend of a friend, huh?”
Andrew forced his gaze up, knowing he needed to face the consequences of his absurd overreaction. Bobby Ray’s face was stoic and unreadable other than a small frown.
“I didn’t mean… I’m sorry… I panicked. Fitzgerald’s a jerk I grew up with. It’s just habit not to give him fuel.” Even to his own ears, the excuse sounded hollow. He was a grown man.
There was no anger in Bobby Ray. Only disappointment. And a hint of hurt in the tightening of skin around his eyes and mouth.
“You’re not ready for this.”
“I am.” The words were quick, too quick and Bobby Ray only shook his head. “I want to be.”
“But you’re not. Not yet.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “I get it, Andrew, I really do. I never intended to come out. Now that I have, though, it’s such a relief. I’m not going back into that closet. I’m not willing to be someone’s dirty little secret.”
A little anger finally flared in his expression as Bobby Ray spoke the last words. With a deep breath, he stood up and dropped his napkin on the table. When Andrew started to follow, Bobby Ray raised one hand and shook his head to stop him.
“Look, Andrew. This,” he gestured between them with the upraised hand. “This has been good. But it’s not enough. Not for me. And it shouldn’t be for you. You need to keep digging and figure out what you really want.”
Andrew watched, stunned and uncertain, while Bobby Ray walked out of the restaurant and out of his life.
*
His reprieve was well and truly over. Andrew stood in an out of the way corner of the glittering ballroom. His tux felt tight and foreign. The forced gaiety and constant murmur of inane small talk bouncing around the room had given him a headache almost the instant he’d walked in with his mother. The hours since had done nothing but made it worse.
In the past week, his mother had insisted he accompany her to two dinners, a brunch and this ridiculously extravagant charity gala.
At least her timing had been better than he’d expected. He’d had a couple of weeks to lick his wounds after his disastrous date before she’d begun demanding his time.
In the weeks since he’d last heard from Bobby Ray (three weeks, one day, two hours, but who’s counting) he’d discovered how empty his life really was. His relationship with his mother lacked two-way communication. His friendships were shallow at best. His colleagues were either intimidated by his name or absurdly competitive because of it. And his social life, well, pathetic didn’t begin to cover it.
He’d managed two dates, more to prove something to himself than any real interest in either of his companions.
Ben Phelps, a stockbroker who lived in his building, had been even more worried about being outed than Andrew. He’d spent the entire night looking over his shoulder and jumping at noises.
Tia Cole, a pretty receptionist from his gym, had been an attempt to see if his feelings for Bobby Ray had been a fluke after all. She’d spent the entire dinner gushing about how much she admired Andrew’s mother. When she wasn’t hinting she had the background and skills to make an excellent political wife, that was.
“Sweetheart, what are you doing over here, all by yourself in a dark corner?”
Andrew had always been conversely jealous of, and terrified by, Kate Hennings’s ability to speak without moving her lips or disturbing her perfect camera ready smile.
“Um, having a drink?” He held up the glass, like it was defense exhibit A.
“You should be out mingling. It’s a party, Andrew… Oh, Senator Cain. I’ve been looking for you….”
She disappeared as quickly as she’d materialized and he heaved a sigh of relief. He’d have to remember to thank Cain later for the unintended reprieve.
A low, feminine chuckle drifted from behind him.
“Your mother hasn’t changed a bit.”
He turned at the vaguely familiar voice. It took a minute his for brain to catch up and recognize the tall blond with vivid green eyes. Which was sad, considering how long they’d known each other.
“Erin. Wow. What a surprise. I haven’t seen you since…”
Well, it probably wouldn’t be good to mention the last time they’d spoken, he’d been breaking up with her, long-distance, in order to start dating Whitney. Who he’d then dumped two months later for Melanie. Andrew did his best to swallow back a resigned sigh. He probably deserved worse than being left at the altar.
“I didn’t know you were back from California.”
Not the smoothest conversational transition, but she laughed instead of slapping him or stomping away, so he’d consider it a win.
“I’m not. Not permanently, anyway. I just decided to take some time off. It’s been too long since I’ve visited with Aunt Gert and Uncle Wallace. And thought maybe I could catch up with old friends.”
He remembered Gertrude and Wallace Freeman with a fond smile. Erin had lived with them while going to law school in New York, so far from her parents. Andrew had spent quite of bit of time in their home, when he and Erin were in an on again phase. Since first meeting in college they had sort of drifted together and drifted apart until long distance had ended it completely between them.
“How are your aunt and uncle?”
For the rest of the night, they chatted and caught up and reminisced. It was a relief to have her as a buffer to his mother and the rest of the inanity of New York society.
Andrew felt a little guilty, using Erin as a shield, but from things she’d said about her Aunt Gert’s matchmaking attempts, he had a feeling she was doing the same thing. So he was surprised and taken a little off guard when she suggested they get together for dinner sometime soon.
His first instinct, selfishly, was to agree. To keep using her as cover to keep his mother at bay.
But Andrew had been thoughtless and careless with her once before. He owed her better than that this time around.
“I can’t… I’m not… I’m still…” Andrew stumbled, unable to find the right words to say ‘you’re not my type anymore’ without being offensive.
Erin laughed, startling him into silence.
“Relax, Andrew. I meant as friends.” She patted his arm affectionately. Then bit her lip as it curved into a frown. “The truth is, I just got over a bad break up. That’s part of why I’m taking a break here. And, don’t take this the wrong way, but I had enough of our roller coaster relationship the last time we broke up.”
He saw the whisper of old pain and a tangle of guilt twisted his insides. “God, I’m sorry Erin. I was an ass, I know.”
“Don’t.” She shook her head and squeezed his arm. “We were both careless with each other’s feelings, at one time or another. But no matter what, we were always friends. I could use an old friend right now. I’m betting you could too.”
Andrew thought about Melanie. And the complete silence from Bobby Ray. Yeah. He had a distinct lack of friends right now.
When he nodded, she hugged him and they made plans to meet for lunch the next day.
*
“What happened, exactly, with you and Melanie?”
Andrew nearly choked on the forkful of salad he’d put in his mouth.
He chewed, carefully, then took a long sip of water before looking up at her.
“Irreconcilable differences.”
“Oh, c’mon.” She rolled her eyes and waved her fork at him. “I’m not trying to be nosy. Well. I suppose I am, a little. Considering your commitment issues in our own history, I never thought you’d get close to a wedding. If I’d had to lay a bet on someone getting left at the altar on your wedding day, well, my money would not have been on you.”
She paused, and leaned back to rake him with an assessing stare. He squirmed a little and tried hard to keep his gaze steady.
“The thing is, you don’t talk about it. At all. And you get this sad, faraway look sometimes. You had it, just now. You also haven’t said a word in about five minutes. I thought, maybe, it might help to talk.”
She gave him a self-depreciating smile. “I mean you’ve been listening to me bitch about Asshole Dave and his multiple mistresses all week. Surprisingly, it’s been cathartic. I thought I’d return the favor.”
Andrew was at a complete loss as to what to say. The truth was, he hadn’t been thinking about Melanie at all. He’d been thinking about Bobby Ray. Again.
It amazed him how often something came up, something made him laugh, or pissed him off, and he’d reach for his phone. Of course, he never actually sent any texts. Bobby Ray had made it clear with his silence that whatever they hadn’t quite got started, it was over.
Andrew wasn’t ready to talk about Bobby Ray with Erin, though.
Despite knowing her for a decade, having been in an intimate relationship with her, off and on for a good chunk of that, he didn’t feel as easy with Erin. It’s not that he didn’t trust her, or that he feared her using him. He just didn’t have the same sense of connection. The urge to curl up in her, to share and to listen and to bond with her. He’d spent so long being the cardboard cut-out Andrew Hennings with her, he had no idea how to drop the mask and show the flesh and blood man. And no real desire to.
“Andrew?”
He glanced up at her. She was leaning forward on the table now, brow furrowed with concern. “If you don’t want to talk about it, I’ll drop it. I’m sorry. I just wanted to help.”
“No. It’s okay.”
He wasn’t ready to talk about Bobby Ray. But he could talk about Melanie. That was a wound that was healing better than he’d expected the night he got drunk in the roadhouse parking lot.
Besides, Erin had opened up to him, telling him about her ex. Who she’d expected to pop the question at any moment. Instead, she’d walked in on mistress number one slapping him after finding out about mistress number two. She deserved to shift the focus for a day and to have someone to commiserate with. He figured he could bear telling her a truncated version of what he’d told Bobby Ray.
Andrew leaned back, glad he’d been nearly done with his food, because he had no appetite left.
“I loved her. But I wasn’t in love with her. We liked each other. We were comfortable.”
He ran a hand through his hair, unsatisfied with the explanation, but unwilling to say he didn’t trust anyone from his own circle.
“She was as commitment-phobic as you are, huh? Sounds like a perfect match for you.”
Andrew blinked at her in surprise. He hadn’t thought of it that way, but Erin had nailed it. It had been easy to be with Melanie, because she’d been as uncomfortable with the idea of being tied down as he was.
God, no wonder Bobby Ray hadn’t looked back. He deserved someone who didn’t shy away at the smallest hint of commitment.
“So, what happened? Her fear outpace yours?”
“She realized she still loved Jake. I cared enough about her to want her to be happy. She was my best friend, though, as well as my fiancée. I do miss that.”
He shrugged, not knowing what else to say. The words didn’t seem enough to cover the enormity of it. At its heart, though, it wasn’t that complicated.
“Have you talked to her since the wedding?”
He pursed his lips and shook his head. He hadn’t actually spoken to her, but, through Bobby Ray, they had exchange messages and forgiveness and hopes of future happiness. Maybe, someday, when the wounds to his ego had scabbed over, he’d be able to face her again.
Erin’s eyes were warm and sympathetic when she covered his hand with hers.
“Let me guess. It’s not helping that your mother’s trying to throw you at every eligible bachelorette in New York.”
Her words held an echo of her own frustration with her aunt’s continued attempts to get her back ‘out there’ in the social whirl.
“You’d know the feeling,” he returned the sympathetic pat.
She nodded glumly and they shared several minutes of commiserating silence.
Then Erin’s head popped up, eyes bright with almost maniacal glee.
“Let’s date.”
Andrew pulled his hand back in startled surprise. “Erin. I’m sorry. I thought you understood…”
She burst out laughing. “Relax, Andrew. I’m no threat to your virtue. Or your bachelorhood. I meant, let’s pretend to date, to keep our individual meddlers off our backs. I’m here through the holidays. If we stick together, we both get a reprieve. At least until the New Year.”
He eyed her warily, remembering, in law school, she’d always been good at talking people into giving her what she wanted by making them believe she was doing something for them. That was years ago, though, and they’d both grown up and out-grown those games since then.
He smiled back and held out his hand. “Deal.”
She smacked his hand in a hearty handshake and flashed a brilliant grin. “Deal.”
*
The holidays had been interesting. Interesting in the sense of the old Chinese curse.
Andrew fiddled with his fork in the breakfast nook of his mother’s apartment, waiting for her to finish dealing with the crisis of the moment, so they could have brunch together. Thought about the highs and lows of his life, the past few weeks.
There had been his mother’s meltdown at Thanksgiving, when she found out he was no longer a partner at Dorovsic, Dorovsic, Hennings and Henderson. Not to mention, he’d started taking courses in creative writing, of all things.
Andrew hadn’t had the courage, yet, to tell her that he’d begun corresponding with his father again. That relationship was still strained and delicate. His mother’s strident objection could destroy it before it had a chance to grow.
There had also been the arrival of the Christmas card from Melanie (and Jake, though he suspected that signature had been added grudgingly). After two days of internal debate, he’d decided to answer the olive branch. The subsequent phone call to thank her for the card had put to rest of the ghosts of unfinished business between them. She’d apologized. He’d understood, and forgiven, and admitted she had probably done them both a favor.
They were friends again. Not the same as before, of course. But friends. It filled in some of that aching wound he’d been carrying around.
He didn’t ask her about Bobby Ray and she didn’t mention him. He had no idea how much, if anything she knew about the mess he’d made.
He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that conversation and how it had been able to fix one broken relationship. Reaching out to his father had begun to fix another. Success gave him the courage and hope to reach out again.
On Christmas Eve, he sent a text that simply said: Merry Christmas, Bobby Ray.
Surprise, elation and a small trickle of hope ran through him five minutes later, when he’d received Merry Christmas back.
Two words. But it had been enough. Whatever he’d done, he hadn’t broken things irrevocably.
New Year’s Eve found him tipsy and hiding in the bathroom to avoid the expected spectacle of him kissing Erin at midnight. It seemed perfectly reasonable at the time to send another text to the person he really wanted to be spending the holiday with.
The alcohol-fueled message had been both succinct and brutally honest.
Happy New Year, Bobby Ray. My resolution this year is to stop being such a pussy.
He still cringed a little, every time he thought about the vulgarity. But he’d gotten a response back almost immediately.
It’s about damn time. Happy New Year, Andrew.
Another step. Small, but powerful. In the two weeks since, they’d exchanged about a dozen messages. It was nothing like the fast and furious flood of conversation before, but, to Andrew, it felt like a lifeline.
Erin had returned to California shortly after the New Year and that had been a relief, as well. Their ruse had kept his mother happy about at least one part of his life. But the burden of wearing a mask that didn’t fit right, of being someone else, still, had become too much to bear. He was done, now, with all of it: the career he didn’t want, the politics he couldn’t stand, the relationships that meant nothing. The life that was never really his.
Andrew’s mother was outraged by his change in paths and focus, but she was starting to come around. She’d been civil, if not exactly warm, the last few days. And the lectures were getting shorter. She’d even stopped nagging him about letting Erin go back to California without some future plans in place.
His phone beeped the unique sound he had assigned to Bobby Ray, and he fumbled it in his eagerness for another connection to the man.
Congratulations
He frowned, trying to puzzle out what the southerner meant by the single word. The end of his career? His upcoming classes? All those were things they’d talked about before, though.
Before he could send back a question his phone beeped. And beeped again. More congratulations. A request for more details. Had they set a date?
A date? For what? His eyes were drawn to the newspaper next to his mother’s empty seat. The paper she’d carefully folded and set far away from him when he’d joined her for breakfast.
The paper she’d set down with that smile of satisfaction her political opponents had learned to fear.
He reached for it now, shaking it out.
The picture of Erin and him was old, from their last go-round. The headline said Altar-bound Again? The smaller print underneath announced New York’s most eligible bachelor was once again engaged.
Engaged? Why would the paper think they were engaged? Who would have sent them the picture?
The sound in the doorway drew his gaze and his mother was talking before he could say a word.
“I see you’ve discovered the little mistake the society editor made.”
“Mistake? This was no mistake, Mother. You planted this? Why? How could you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous Andrew. It was an accident.”
He narrowed his eyes and took a deep breath that did nothing to calm him. His voice came out steady, though, if edging into dangerous. “A minute ago you said it was a mistake. Now it’s an accident. Which is it, mother?”
“An accident, a mistake. Same thing.” Her eyebrow twitched, a tell she swore she didn’t have, but one Andrew had learned to spot whenever she was bluffing. “Look, Florence just misunderstood. That’s all.”
“Florence? Florence de Whyting the society editor?”
“Yes, we were having lunch. She mentioned how nice you and Erin looked together at the New Year’s Eve party.” Her eyes wandered away as she shrugged casually. “I may have said something like I wouldn’t be surprised to hear an announcement any day now. She obviously misunderstood.”
“And how did she get the picture?”
“An archive photo, no doubt.”
Obviously, his mother had answers for everything and Andrew knew he’d end up with nothing but frustration and indigestion from playing her games.
Instead, he carefully folded the paper, stood and silently moved around the table. His mother stood in his way at the door.
“Andrew, where are you going?”
“To inform the paper they accidentally made a mistake.”
Her eyes widened. “You can’t do that Andrew. After the mess with that Smooter girl. If you have another engagement end unexpectedly, we’ll be the butt of jokes and speculation for years.” She paused and ran her hand over her hair. “Let’s sit down, have brunch, discuss this rationally.”
“I’m not feeling particularly rational right now, Mother.”
She sighed, the same sigh she used to tell him he was being unreasonable at ten, when he’d demanded a half hour extension on his bedtime. She truly did not see him as a grown up.
“Look, I know you’re feeling a little gun shy after the fiasco last summer. But this is simply moving the time-table up a little. You and Erin are perfect for each other. Sooner or later, you’re going to end up together. It might as well be sooner.”
He closed his eyes, and curled his hands tight to fight the urge to push his mother out of the way and storm out of her apartment. And her life. For good.
“No. We. Aren’t. We are not perfect together. We are not going to end up together.”
“Of course you are.”
He opened his eyes because he couldn’t believe the smug self-assurance he was hearing. But there it was. That superior, I-know-what’s-best smile. Why was he even surprised? Honestly, he’d been letting her have her way his whole life. He shouldn’t be shocked when she thought she’d get this, too.
She probably assumed once she got him all buttoned up in marriage, it would be easy to steer him right back into law and politics.
With a groan, he rubbed his now-throbbing temples. His anger had burned itself out into exasperation and exhaustion.
“Did you miss the conversation last fall where I told you I prefer men?”
“Obviously it was only an over-reaction to the wedding. You’ve been with Erin for months.”
Oh and he should have known he’d pay the price for the months of peace he’d bought with a lie.
“We’ve been pretending to date!” The shout left his throat a little sore from the raw emotion ripping through it. “You know what? I am not going to do this anymore. I am not having this conversation again.”
He stepped back towards the table and his mother followed, putting a consoling hand on his arm. “Andrew, you’re upset. Let’s eat and talk about this.”
“No. Didn’t you hear me? I’m done talking about this. You and your PR people have twenty-four hours to fix this. Otherwise, I’ll call a press conference myself. I don’t know what I’ll do yet, but, I promise you, the broken engagement will be the least embarrassing thing that will hit the papers.”
With that, Andrew brushed passed her and got the hell out before he had to listen to one more word.
He’d walked three blocks in record time before he realized he should call Erin. She deserved a heads up if she hadn’t heard and an explanation of some kind if she had.
She answered on the second ring with, “Hello, fiancé.”
“I see you’ve heard our good news.”
“Aunt Gert called first thing this morning ecstatic and angry at the same time. Congratulating us and demanding to know why I didn’t tell her in person.”
“I am so sorry. About all of this. My mother is incapable of staying out of my life.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Andrew. It’s not that bad. Really.”
“You wouldn’t be saying that if this was the second engagement you’d had to break in six months.”
“We don’t…” she paused, he voice dropping from amused to serious. “We don’t have to break the engagement.
“What? Erin, I thought we talked about this.”
“Look, I know you don’t love me, not like that. But you love me like a friend and you were willing to have that kind of marriage with Melanie. I’m just saying, neither of us is getting any younger. And neither of us is finding what we want. I’m tired of coming home to an empty apartment. I’m tired of dating loser after loser. We know each other. We’re comfortable together. We can make each other happy.”
“Erin, I’m sorry. I can’t.”
“Andrew, I’m telling you, we can make it work. You can move out here and take classes-”
“It’s not going to happen.”
“I should have listened when your mother reminded me how stubborn you can be.”
The words were muttered but they froze Andrew in his tracks. Thoughts and possibilities he didn’t want to consider clicked together in his head anyway.
“Did you know about my mother’s plan, Erin? Were you in on it with her?”
“No.” Her answer was quick. Too quick and followed by a pause that made Andrew’s head throb even harder. “I had no idea she was going to tell the paper we were engaged. I swear, Andrew. You have to believe me.”
And he did. Yet…
“What part of the plan did you know about Erin?”
Another dreadful pause. He could hear the tears when she answered. “Your mother called last fall. She said you were having a hard time. That you could use a friend. That you might need someone who cares about you in your life. So I took a leave of absence and came out to see you.”
In his head, some cynical part of Andrew’s brain translated the words. His mother had told Erin that he was vulnerable. Easy prey.
“Why, Erin?”
The laugh was bitter in his ear. “You really don’t know, do you? Our relationship has always been convenient for you. How many other women have stuck around for this kind of on again off again thing we’ve always had?”
He blinked at her question. None. He’d never had a second relationship with any other woman after they’d broken up.
“I’ve loved you since the beginning Andrew. I know you don’t love me. Not that way. I was willing to settle for what I could get with you, though. Is the idea of spending the rest of your life with me really so horrible?”
“I’m sorry, Erin. So sorry. I didn’t know.” He should have. They’d never said I love you. Not once. He realized now, way too late, it had always been there, though, in her eyes. Been there in the way she welcomed him back, time and again. In the way she offered him comfort and support. And even a pretend girlfriend.
“I’m so sorry,” he repeated, knowing it was not enough. Knowing he could never begin to apologize enough.
“Andrew, couldn’t we just try?”
He thought about telling her the whole truth. About Bobby Ray and his own hang ups. But he still wasn’t ready to share. He doubted that information would make her feel better anyway.
“I can’t Erin. I just can’t.”
Master Post
Part Four