Page 95 of Only Ever You

His back teeth ground down. “If you had ever given me reason to respect you more, I might not have.”

Mortimer pressed his lips together.

“Sébastien is right.”

Bash’s head spun to where his father stood up, face calm and betraying nothingexcept for disappointment as he looked down the length of the table.

Arthur released a deep breath that definitely finally let go of frustration that had gathered and festered for years. “I should have said something a long time ago to you, Morty,” he said. “You are my only brother and I haven’t wanted to lose you, but thatwillhappen if you continue to act towards us as you do.”

Bash couldn’t quite believe what he’d heard.

“I suppose that this is how you all feel,” Mortimer mused, swilling his wine around and around dangerously close to letting it spill upon the pristine cream tablecloth.

No one shied away from Mortimer’s gaze. Between them all, serving bowls still held the leftovers of their dinner, though Bash had lost his appetite.

“You have never once spoken to me kindly,” Saira said, her chin high. Matt’s hand slipped into hers though not to hold her back. “I’ve tolerated enough because I did not want to fight with the rest of this wonderful family who’ve welcomed me.”

For years Saira had taken a brunt of Mortimer’s bullishness, and it sickened Bash to think of the reasons why – things that only ever mattered to the brute at the end of the table. As ever, Mortimer hadn’t been outlandish with his comments. They were subtle digs and word choices which others might easily miss that’d allowed him to get away with it for so long. The fucking racist.Add in misogynistic, and Mortimer was the definition of problematic.

But no more.

Matt looked to Mortimer, next. “I stand with my wife, and my brother. And my mother too. I’ve never wanted the girls to be around your attitude and they won’t be unless it changes.”

“Hm.” Mortimer pulled back his shoulders. It didn’t look like he was going to change at all, but Bash had pride glittering in his veins for his brother. “And you, Shelly?”

Michèle gracefully rose from her seat. Inhaling, Bash held that breath. His motherwasn’t a particularly tall woman, but at that moment she was the tallest in the room. Centred.

“There is nothing that I need to say.” Her steady voice and unyielding eyes said it all. Bash wanted to punch his fist in the air but kept it firmly pressed against the table instead.

The jazz still playing quietly in the background did nothing to help the air about to crack with whatever came from Mortimer next.

“Well then, if you are all quite done with blaming me … ”

“How about dessert in the living room?” Michèle shut him down, attention moving between her sons and Saira. “The girls already chose what game they want to play, earlier.”

Matt stood and, hand-in-hand, brought Saira up with him, holding out her chair. “Dessert sounds good,Maman.”

One by one the dining room emptied. Arthur lingered, and Bash suspected there was more his father wanted to say without the rest of them to overhear. He hoped this sort of thing wouldn't ever happen between him and Matt, but if it did, he’d want privacy too.

Bash pushed his chair back and dropped his cloth napkin onto the table, giving Mortimer one last look.

“Enjoy your dessert. I think it’ll taste ratherjustto me.”

His gaze stayed long enough to catch the furious flare of his uncle’s nose.

In the kitchen, Faye had set up a production line of bowls and spoons, all leading towards the one big bowl of trifle at the end.

As though she’d known Bash was there, she looked up and found his eyes straight away. She gave him a questioning thumbs up and he found the effort to shallowly smile.

He didn’t expect to feel so much guilt for speaking up to Mortimer, though the man had had it coming for years. Doing so unsettled the dinner sitting in his stomach, not because what he’d done was wrong, but because the adrenaline of it wasn’t wearing off. Handling difficult clients was a weekly occurrence for him, but as Maya and Imara wandered around handing out bowls of trifle,thisBash couldn’t seem to shake.

He’d done the right thing. None of his family here would blame him for calling out Mortimer on his shit.

Bash didn’t say much of anything in the lull of conversation that picked up, and he dodged more of Faye’s looks too. Michèle had prepared such an amazing meal and all he’d had to do was open his mouth to ruin it.

What was supposed to be a meal in celebration had turned into a depressing shitshow. What was Faye going to think of him?

Arthur slipped into the kitchen without saying a word regarding the shuffling in the hallway. Bash caught Faye’s concerned eye but it was his father who he moved to be beside.

---