Page 11 of For the Love of Scott
Chapter Four
Ben places the slow cooker of chili cheese dip on the dining room table and surveys his family. “Um…”
Everyone stops what they’re doing and looks at him. His gaze flits from person to person and he runs his tongue over his lips. He swallows past the tiny lump in his throat. This shouldn’t be so hard. This is his family. They’d accepted his homosexuality a decade ago. But it’s been years since he’s brought anyone home. Since before his sister Gillian’s death and before he’d become Misty’s de facto father.
Of course, if he doesn’t say anything, Scott’s arrival will, and that wouldn’t be fair to Scott. Ben wants all the teasing over with before he arrives. Well, as much of it as possible. There’s no way Scott is going to make it through the evening without being on the receiving end of a few comments, if Ben knows his family. And he does. All eyes are on him. He wipes his hands down the front of his khaki pants. “I, ah…invited someone.”
Cheers go up around the room, and he lets out the breath he’d held, and warmth creeps up his face instead.
Leah loudly singsongs, “Ben’s got a boyfriend, Ben’s got a boyfriend,” and resumes her silverware laying.
“Hush, Leah,” admonishes Ma, although her own smile is wide.
“Are you kidding? After all the times he did that to me? No way, José.”
Ben rolls his eyes. Yeah, he might’ve had that coming. But he was the only boy in a houseful of sisters, and the list of indignities he’d suffered at their hands over the years is lengthy.
“Ooh la la,” says Rachel, elbowing him. Her loose auburn curls bounce around her round face. “Who’s the lucky guy?”
“Is it Scott?” asks Tim, a delighted grin on his face. He sets down the stack of special game-night plates he’s carrying—leftovers from Ma’s collection of various Corelle-ware patterns she’d amassed over the years.
Ben can’t help his answering smile and nods.
“How do you know and I don’t?” asks Rachel, sending her husband a good-natured glare from across the chest-high counter separating the dining room from the kitchen. Tim flashes her a cheesy grin.
“Good for you, honey,” says Ma. Then she shakes her head. “I should’ve known Marva was up to something.”
“Is it serious?” asks Rachel, bringing in a bowl of tortilla chips and a stack of heavy-duty napkins.
Ben shrugs. After getting to know Scott over the last four, five months, he wants it to be. Eventually. “Neither one of us has been with anyone for a while. We’re gonna take it slow and see how it goes.”
Just then, Misty races in, strawberry blond pigtails skewed lopsided on her head, followed by Dad. They’ve been feeding the cats.
“Who’s your new boyfriend, Ben?” She climbs onto one of the bar stools and jumps into his arms, smacking a kiss to his cheek. He holds her close, inhaling the smell of fresh air and the little girl perfume she likes to wear, and kisses the side of her head.
“Some guy named Scott,” says Leah. “Do I know him?”
“He camed for dinner.”
“Oh, he did, did he?” Leah asks, her Thompson blue eyes going wide.
Misty nods vigorously, pigtails bouncing. “He has a doggie named ‘Vester, right, Ben?”
“Right, munchkin.” He lets Misty slide to her feet. “Listen, guys, I can take the razzing, but go easy on Scott, would you?”
“Sure we will, Bennigan,” says Leah, sending him a smirk.
“I mean it, please.”
“Leah, watch yourself,” says Dad with just that underpinning of steel that none of them had ever wanted to hear as kids. Even at thirty-three, it can still spike Ben’s pulse. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Rachel and Tim exchanging raised eyebrows.
“God, Dad, all those times he tormented me?” Leah settles her hands on her hips looking all affronted. A vision of her at age eleven doing just that and stomping her foot and exclaiming,‘It’s not fair,’flashes through Ben’s mind. There is apparently no growing out of the middle child mindset.
“This isn’t about Ben, sweetheart, it’s about Scott, all right?” Dad kisses her cheek. “His growing up circumstances were far different from yours. He might not understand the way in which your sarcastic remarks are intended. Ben, on the other hand, is fair game,” he says with a wink.
Everyone laughs.
“Thanks, Dad.”
