Upside Down (Breaking the Rules #3) - A.M. Madden Page 0,80

made her promise to act no differently among them and loved that she always respected my wishes. My friends and I had known each other most of our lives, and our connections went beyond the baseball teams and pickup football games that had been a major part of our interactions. And as close as we were, some understood better than others.

That had been my point when I told Cooper coming out was a very personal thing. Yes, I’d done so to the most important person in my life at an early age, but it had taken years to reveal my true self to anyone else. Even my aunt and her family had no idea until I came home from college and had already experienced my first homosexually incited heartbreak.

I knew once I went to IU and left home, although it was only an hour away, my mom had suffered from loneliness. She’d kept busy with social activities in our town, but it couldn’t fill the void. When I’d ended up back home sooner than I’d expected, not long after graduation, I’d headed to Florida to start my first job with Sunset Cruises. She’d supported every decision I’d ever made in my life, including the one that sent me over a thousand miles away.

Remembering all that had me feeling like the asshole she accused me of for giving her a hard time now that she had someone to love her again.

Slowly, I’d been trying to make up for it all afternoon. Of course, she wouldn’t allow me to brood over it. My mother never took shit from me for too long. She always allowed me to stew for a bit and then forced her jovial self on me to the point where I caved. And when Mom had an audience, she stooped to dragging out the worst pictures of a young me, toothless and scrawny, with the one and only goal of embarrassing me.

Because she and Cooper seemed to be getting along, I left him home with her while I went to pick up our steak dinners that my mouth had salivated for since arriving. One could argue cooking a piece of beef wasn’t rocket science in the culinary world, but to me it was perfection. The Porter House’s entire menu has always been my absolute favorite, so much so I had our head chef on BV duplicate it.

Ten minutes later, I pulled into the parking lot and made my way past those waiting outside to get in. Reservations were hard to come by, and it wasn’t the type of restaurant to deliver or even do curbside pickup… except for me. Before moving away, I’d been their best customer. The place was an institution, with most of their waiters on staff for years and years. Even the maître d’ knew me by name.

“Master Burrows,” he said when I sauntered toward his cherrywood podium. My stomach grumbled, getting a good whiff of the deliciousness everywhere. “It’s been way too long.”

“Hey, Cedric. How are you?” Except for the headful of gray hair and a bigger belly, he hadn’t changed. Still donning the same polka-dot bow tie and suspenders he’d worn twenty years ago proved Cedric had always been quite a character.

“Can’t complain,” he said, grasping my hand in his wrinkled grip. “I’m sure your mother is thrilled to have you home.”

“You know Mom,” I responded with a shrug. “I’m sure come Friday she’ll be latched around my ankles to keep me from leaving.”

“When she comes in with Mr. Miller, she can’t stop talking about her Ricky. You’re her main man. She misses you.” He didn’t mean to be offensive. I tried to visit my mother as often as I could, but my business made it hard to do. That meant she came to see me more than I got to come home.

Picking up the phone, he informed the kitchen I had arrived. Seconds later, my meal appeared, packed up and ready to go. “Feeding an army again?” he asked with a wink before passing me the large catering box.

“You’d think, but you know this is my weakness.” And knowing I’d be back again before I left Indiana, I lifted it with a smirk. “I’ll see you in a few days.”

“We’ll be waiting.”

All eyes were on me as I walked through the packed foyer. Patrons’ wishful whispers that they could also order takeout filtered to my ears. I smirked, knowing that wasn’t an option. My father had been best friends with the owner, Seth