Gifts for the Season - R.J. Scott Page 0,33

to do.

I drove to Palos Verdes, typed a code at the gated entrance, and cruised into the Vaughns’ posh neighborhood. They’d moved here after Derek graduated from college. His dad was a big golfer, and supposedly this was a premier course. He threatened to invite us to play, but that hadn’t happened yet. I think he genuinely wanted to connect with us and support us. He just wasn’t sure how…or maybe he wasn’t brave enough. It might feel funny to introduce your son and boyfriend to your golf buddies. What did I know? I hadn’t seen my own dad in six months.

I parked in front of their traditional Cape-Cod-style home, noting the boring single strand of white lights and faux garlands wrapped around the pillars on either side of the door. Ours was way cooler, I mused as I rang the bell. Once…nothing. Twice…I peered through the glass panel at the top of the door. The lights were on. They should be here. I was about to go for a third time, when Derek’s mom appeared.

“Gabe! Hello. Where’s Derek? He didn’t mention you two were coming by.” She craned her neck to look toward the darkened street.

“No, he’s not here.”

Blood drained from her face so fast, I reached for her elbow to steady her in case she toppled over. “Is he okay? What happened? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I promise.” I patted her arm gently, then inclined my head. “Can I come in for a minute? I won’t stay long.”

“Yes, of course.” She grabbed my jacket sleeve and practically pulled me inside. “Jack will be home soon. He said the traffic from Orange County was terrible tonight.”

I followed her from the entry into the grand great room. The Vaughns had big bucks and expensive taste. I didn’t necessarily think of them as ostentatious, but they drove European luxury cars, went on exclusive getaways, and their house was un-fucking-real. It was the perfect blend of traditional and modern with sleek paneled walls, high ceilings, and a disappearing wall of windows that showcased a jaw-dropping view of the Pacific. Everything about this place was designer perfect. Even their Christmas tree looked professionally decorated. No offense, but I liked ours better.

Derek’s mom made a beeline for the refrigerator, clutching her pearls with a shaky hand as she recited a long list of beverage choices.

“No, thanks. I’m fine. Derek will be expecting me home soon anyway. I just came to deliver this in person.” I set the envelope on the marble island and slid it toward her.

“What is it?” she asked as she tore it open. “Oh.”

“It would mean a lot to him to have you there.”

She stared at the invitation and sighed. “I don’t know if that’s true.”

“Believe me, it’s true.” I glanced out the window at the indigo sky and chose my words carefully. “Derek’s dreamed about this for a long time. When we first got together, he talked about opening a bistro the same way I talked about going to the Olympics. It was something he wanted but didn’t think he’d ever achieve. And truthfully, he was afraid to disappoint you. He still feels that way, and I think part of it is me.”

“You? What do you mean?”

“I’m a guy,” I said like Captain Obvious. “I’m not the person you expected. I’m not suggesting you haven’t been cool to me. You have. But…I get the impression you don’t think we’re going to last. And that maybe I’m pulling him off course.”

“Gabe, I don’t—”

“Let me finish. Please.” I licked my lips before continuing in a scratchy voice. “I know you’re protective of him and that you love him. But I want you to know…I love him too. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him. Nothing. I want to assure you that you’re not the only ones looking out for him now. I’m not going to hurt him or encourage him to take risks he’s not ready for. I want the best for him. The bistro is going to be a lot of work, but he’s not doing this alone. I’m here for him. And I plan to be here for the rest of my life. So you really don’t have to worry so much anymore.”

She pursed her lips and sniffled daintily before setting her hand over mine. When I smiled, she threw herself into my arms and sobbed. I held her until she pulled away, rubbing her nose.

“I don’t know why I needed to hear that, but I did. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me.

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