Page 53 of A Case of You
Alejandro and Maria Martinez were nothing like Stuart’s parents, Stuart was happy to see, even if that made him vaguely feel like a bad son for thinking it. They were warm and friendly, inviting.
When Stuart and Eileen’s parents arrived, along with Robert and his wife, Stuart didn’t feel nearly as much stress and tension as he thought he would, and it had nothing to do with the distraction provided by the butt plug buried in his ass, either.
I guess Brandon was right.Having Brandon’s initial introduction to his parents out of the way had helped lower Stuart’s stress levels a lot.
They were all heading into the large ballroom area where the wedding and reception would be held when the lobby doors opened behind them.
As if riding ahead of the wave of cold, damp air blowing in with his arrival, Jake’s presence hit Stuart in the back of the head even before his booming voice made him cringe.
“Not starting without your big brother, are you?”
Brandon snagged Stuart’s hand and kept walking. In fact, everyone kept walking, as if they hadn’t even heard him, except for Stuart’s parents.
They turned, and his dad snorted, sounding disgusted. “Get yer lazy ass in here, then. World don’t revolve around ya.”
As Stuart and Brandon walked into the ballroom behind Eileen and John, she glanced at Stuart and winked.
He winked back.
* * * *
Brandon was glad the minister performing the wedding had to leave by seven thirty, so there was no time to go through introductions with Jake before the rehearsal. It gave everyone the perfect excuse to basically ignore Jake, his wife, and his two sullen and obviously bored sons.
There was actually no reason for Jake to even be at the rehearsal, since he wasn’t in the wedding itself. Eileen had specifically invited Stuart and Robert to be there, with their significant others, and had posited to them at dinner on Thursday that Jake was probably looking for a free meal for him and his brood.
The man was loud and obnoxious, reeked of cigarette smoke, and wore probably a hundred extra pounds of fat on him. Considering he stood three inches shorter than Brandon, Brandon wasn’t even slightly intimidated by him physically.
But he’d had to manage jerks like Jake and immediately knew the type. Jake’s best days had been in high school, where he’d been a big man on campus, and he had never managed to top those times.
Everything else was downhill for the rest of his life, because he wasn’t smart enough to better himself, and wasn’t likable enough to get other adults to want to hang around him out of anything but fear or business obligation.
Jake resembled Carl Powell a little, except for the extra flab on him, and the way his beady green eyes were set deep inside his pudgy cheeks. Broken capillaries scattered across Jake’s nose and cheeks made Brandon suspect alcoholism when combined with the wafting hint of stale beer.
Stuart’s parents had only briefly talked about Jake during their earlier visit. He still worked at the tiny used car lot his friend owned. Presumably the “manager,” but it seemed the only thing Jake did was walk around bragging he was the manager, and drive to auctions to buy cars. He apparently showed little to no interest in actually doing anything close to requiring physical labor.
And it wasn’t like Jake was rich, either. They lived in the same crappy trailer he’d lived in with his roommate when he’d married Shelly when he was nineteen. The roommate had moved out, and Shelly had moved in. She’d spent years working part-time at a daycare in town where their kids went, then working there full-time once they’d started school. She was still working her ass off and basically supporting Jake, according to Carl Powell.
They didn’t even own the trailer, were still renting it. Jake had a propensity for pissing away any money he received as soon as it touched his fingers.
From what Brandon could see, Shelly looked like a woman who’d been emotionally beat down by her husband. She looked years older than he now knew her to be, her shoulders hunched, a permanent furrow creasing her brow and a resting bitch face mode that seemed to be her default.
Once they finally finished the rehearsal, and Eileen and the other women, except for Shelly, were discussing how to handle the decorations tomorrow, Jake hauled himself up from his chair and strutted over.
Brandon didn’t miss that John’s three friends, who’d been talking with John, Brandon, Stuart, and Robert, immediately straightened and circled around on either side of them, glaring at Jake.
Jake stopped in front of John first, blatantly looking him up and down in an obvious challenge. He finally stuck out his hand. “Jake Powell. Eileen’s big brother.”
Brandon didn’t miss that John stared at Jake’s hand for a long moment before finally shaking with a smile. “John Martinez.” From the way John kept the smile on his face, unflinching, Brandon also knew that meant Jake was trying the oldest and bullshittiest tactic on the face of the planet, squeezing his hand.
Jake flinched first and finally let go.
“How long you been in the country?” Jake had the balls to ask.
“Since I was born here, I guess that makes it my whole life, doesn’t it?”
“Thought you were one of those, what are they called, Dreamers?”
“The US Army agrees I was born here. Considering they’ve owned my ass for the better part of a year, and will continue to do so for a while, I’m not going to argue with them.”
