Page 95 of All The Things: The Last Thing He Needs Omnibus

“Hard pass, but thanks for the offer.” He clapped Tommy on the shoulder as he made his way to the table with Ben and Gavin. “Congrats, man. You got a good one,” he told Tommy. Then he looked at Bobby and said, “My condolences to you, though. You’re fucked.” He laughed all the way across the lawn. Asshole.

“He ain’t wrong, though,” Tommy said. “I definitely got the better end of this deal.”

“I thought you were going to say he was right because you were gonna fuck me all night.”

“That too.”

Bobby chuckled and took Tommy’s hand. “I’m lucky too, Tom. And I’m so goddamn happy. Just so ya know.”

He didn’t. Not really. Most of the time, he thought Bobby was a crazy bastard for wanting to be with him, thought he should run off and hide from Tommy, go have a normal life, but fuck it. Bobby was happy—happy with him—and that meant something. “I do now,” he said softly, squeezing Bobby’s fingers in his own. With a sigh, he said, “Let’s go talk to my father and then get the hell outta here.” He’d booked a fancy room in a nice hotel for them for the weekend since the honeymoon trip wasn’t for another few weeks when the kids got out of school and Colleen could take some time off.

“That’s the one we should’ve started with.”

“Never said I was smart.” But they made their way over to Cal, who was sitting next to Gene with Ben and Gavin. All three stood from the table when Tommy and Bobby approached.

“It was good seein’ you, Cal,” Gene said, smiling. “I’m really glad you got your shit together. Glad I haven’t seen you in the bar.”

Cal laughed softly and said, “Not as glad as I am.”

Gene clapped him on the back and grinned. “Call me and we’ll get some fishing in.”

Fishing? Tommy had no idea his father even knew how to fish, let alone enjoyed it. But whatever, none of his business.

“And thanks for the gardening tips,” Gavin said as he and Ben stepped away with a nod to Tommy and Bobby.

“Any time. Gene’s got my number if you ever have any questions.”

Yeah, Tommy knew he worked at a nursery. He handed out plants like most people offered a stick of gum, but Tommy hadn’t realized he knew anything about it. Bobby squeezed his fingers as Cal got up from his chair.

“Congratulations, son.” Cal looked like he was about to go in for a hug, thought better of it, then went for a shake and wasn’t sure about that either, then stepped back, then forward. Tommy couldn’t take it.

“Thanks for comin’, Pop.” He compromised with a one-armed hug and a pat on Cal’s shoulder, grateful when Cal didn’t force it to go on too long.

“Thanks for inviting me,” he said as he pulled back. “I wasn’t sure what to get you two or what you might need, so I just brought a nice little shrub, but if there’s a list or something, let me know because I’d like to do more.”

Why did that kind of piss Tommy off? Why did the idea of Cal offering to do more nettle him so goddamn much? “We didn’t want a bunch of presents or whatever. It’s cool.”

“Well, it’s not every day one of your kids gets married,” Cal said. “And Bobby, welcome to the family.”

Bobby managed not to grimace at that, but Tommy figured it was a near thing, because damn. Who in their right mind wanted to join his family?

“Thanks, Cal. I appreciate it.”

“It’s good to see you so happy,” Cal said, and the sincerity in his eyes set off a war of emotions in Tommy.

Irritation because why did it take Tommy twentysomething years to find happiness? And maybe even a little pride because, yeah, he did find it, and he found it on his own. Some guilt, too, just around the edges, but he had no idea why. Like, maybe some part of him thought he didn’t deserve to be happy? Maybe. He didn’t wanna think about it just then. And at the same time, under all that, he was also just glad that his old man had been sober for more than a year, longer than he’d been sober in the last ten or fifteen years. “You too, Pop.” Was it? Good to see his father happy? Tommy didn’t even know. For so long, he’d been totally indifferent about how his father was doing, and sometimes he just wanted to see him dead in a gutter. Cal doing good or being happy—in a real way, not because he’d just gotten a bottle or some of whatever the drug of the day was—wasn’t ever an option.

“I know I didn’t give you the best… foundation for… anything, but—”

And, God help them all, it was Bobby who let out a sharp, very short laugh. He tried to cover it with a cough, but Tommy caught it. Cal probably did, too, because his cheeks flushed just a little, and he glanced away with a self-deprecating laugh as he ran his hand through his hair.

“Sorry, I, uh, I better go check in with Mom. Thanks for coming, Cal.” The coward practically sprinted like a goddamn gazelle to go hide behind his mother. Was it too soon to file for divorce?

“Thanks, Bobby.” Cal and Tommy watched him go, and then Cal said, “Well, anyway. I’m glad you found something good. I know I didn’t make it easy. Maybe didn’t even make it seem possible.”

Tommy looked at him, caught the guilt swimming in Cal’s eyes, the regret etched across his face in every wrinkle, and goddamn it, he really didn’t want to have the conversation that would come if they kept on this track. “But I did,” Tommy said. He rested his hand on Cal’s shoulder, not quite a hug, not anything really, but a friendly gesture, maybe? Or maybe just something to ground them both, keep them there in the moment instead of running down what-ifs and whys and fuck-yous. “Maybe we both did.”

Cal smiled, fond and sad. “Yeah, we both did. Long time coming, but we found it.”

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