Page 69 of Marcus in Retrograde
“Oh, my God, I forgot about her sass mouth,” Chase groaned.
“I’d say the same to you, Chase, but I’m your grandmother and that’s gross!”
I burst out laughing, finally. “Holy crap, Chase, she’s amazing!”
“Right? I didn’t have a chance to tell her anything before they ran me out of town.” He sighed. “I’ve missed her so much, but I was scared she was on their side. I couldn’t bear it if my grandmother rejected me because I was gay. I just didn’t talk to her.”
“She wants to make up for it.”
“Marcus, she’s nuts.” He smirked. “I love her so much.”
“Good, we’ll have dinner there. It’s gotta be better than Spacey Jo’s Buttermilk Hell.”
He laughed. “I can’t believe that place was still there. And just as bad as I remember. I’m dying for some real food. They still fry and sauce everything here.”
“They do.” I nodded. “I never thought I’d say this, but I’d kill for some kale.”
The laughter wasn’t there this time. His manner was becoming more subdued as we reached the car, and a moment later he was leaning on the trunk. Chase wrapped his arms around himself, and looked at me.
“Is this the right thing to do?”
“Yes,” I answered. I wasn’t sure, really, but it was what he needed to hear. “Just the chance to wrap this up one way or another with them. Finish this chapter in the book.”
He took back the hand he had released a moment before. “You’ll be there. But Marcus…let me talk. Don’t jump to my defense, don’t try to intercede. Ineedto have this closure. Rider was different, because he insulted you, but these are my parents…and I…”
I squeezed his hand. “I get it, babe. I am there for you to lean on, figuratively and literally, if you need it. But I am going to be listening for your grandmother’s text.”
Nodding, and not letting go of my hand this time, we headed for the front door of the house. When we were on the porch, I let go of him and stood back, against the porch support, a good ten feet from the door. Chase saw what I was doing and I could tell he wanted me closer. It wasn’t smart though.
I wasn’t about to shove our relationship in their face.
Chase lifted his hand and knocked on the door. Three hard, short raps, and stepped back just a little. We waited. It was a good minute before I heard the tumblers in the door turn to open.
The door swung in, and the mirror image of Chase stood on the other side—save with white hair and sallow skin. Right down to the blue eyes. And each set of them was frozen on the other.
Chase cleared his throat. “Hi, Dad.”
The man blinked a few times, wrinkled his brow, then finally cleared his throat. “Chase?”
“Yeah,” he answered. “It’s me.”
“So, then, Rider found you.”
“You always knew where I was,” he answered.
“You didn’t call.”
Chase huffed. “You didn’t either.”
The older man pursed his lips. “I’m doing this wrong, Chase.” His son looked like he was about to lay into him, but held up a hand to stave him off. “I don’t want to fight. I’m done fighting with people.” He moved his hand from its raised position into an offer to shake. “Thank you for coming, Son.”
Slowly, Chase reached his hand out and shook his father’s hand. “You could have picked someone better than Rider to ask me.”
“You’re telling me? He hasn’t shut up about the cocksucker comment since he came home.” His father tossed a look at me standing there. “Well done, young man. Not much throws Rider out of his own orbit. He needed it.”
I nodded in acknowledgement.
He turned back to Chase. “Come in, please, Son. Bring your friend in. Too damn hot out here for me.”
