Page 41 of Say It Again
He chewed the inside of his cheek. He shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t go and meet Daniel’s father. Meeting his father would only complicate things further, but someone tell that to the little swell of weightlessness zipping through his body. The one that sounded an awful lot like the child’s imagination, pointing out how it’d be better than Michelin stars and a sommelier. That it’d be so harmless to be the rock that Daniel leaned on for an evening while they played pretend boyfriends. It’d be so… wholesome.
He sparred with himself over should he, shouldn’t he—a pointless battle in the end because, of course, the answer was always going to be “It’d be an honor to go.”
Chapter Ten
LATER THAT evening, Aaron tried to parallel park his car in Melissa’s cul-de-sac with his left hand. His right hand, the one he needed, had been confiscated by Daniel, who squeezed it like a stress ball while he bounced his knee and gnawed his nails, his nervous energy making the whole car feel like a hamster on a wheel.
“This is bad.” Daniel’s lip bled from where he’d bitten it. “This is a bad idea.”
“Do you want to turn around?” Aaron shifted his car into Park. “Say the word, and we can leave.”
“Should we trade shirts?” Daniel unbuckled his seat belt, then buckled it back in. “What I’m wearing is stupid, and he won’t like it. Do you like it? Do you have any gum? My neck hurts, can you tell? I feel like I’m not blinking enough.” He blinked a lot. “Like a lizard. Why are we sober?”
“Inhale.” Aaron demonstrated. “Exhale.”
“I don’t want to argue with him.” Daniel petted Aaron’s hand, his emotional support hand. “Not on his birthday.”
“So let me ask you something. Why are we here?”
“Why are we here?” Daniel prodded at his curls in the visor mirror, then slammed it shut. “I don’t know. Astute observation. Let’s leave.”
“I think you do know. What’d you tell me on the way here?”
Daniel’s eyes glassed over as he gazed out the window as if deep in thought. “I want a connection with him. I want to celebrate his birthday.”
“Okay. What else?”
“My relationship with him has been terrible, but it won’t ever get better if I don’t try.” Daniel scrunched his face and shrugged. “Is that silly? Am I wasting my time?”
Aaron wasn’t the right person to ask about relationships of any kind, but especially not relationships with one’s father. From everything Daniel had told him about his dad, it seemed like a stretch to try to mend their connection over one evening, but it wasn’t his job to dissuade him from trying. It was his job to be the pillar on which he leaned. He offered a gentle smile. “It’s admirable that you’re here trying. And even if it doesn’t go as you’d hoped, it wasn’t a waste of time.”
“God, you’re so spiritual-leader-during-cacao-ceremony. Okay, so if shit hits the fan, what’s your one job?”
Aaron’s instructions had been explicit. “To keep you from ‘exploding like an atomic weapon.’”
“And?”
“And to keep you from ‘saying something churlish, then storming out in a fit of rage.’”
Daniel rolled his palm. “Even if…?”
“Even if he ‘totally fucking deserves churlishness and rage-storming.’”
“Perfect. And you’re up for this task?”
“I’ll be right there if you need me. Right by your side.” He kissed Daniel’s hand. “Lean on me.”
They walked hand in hand through a series of white townhomes with black shutters until they found Melissa’s house number. For how dead it looked from the road, it brimmed with people on the inside—mostly cheery, middle-aged folks who stood around tables of dips and finger foods, exchanging cut-and-paste party comments: It’s starting to warm up out there. Seen any good movies lately? Try the macaroni salad. It is to die for.
The more time passed, the more Daniel’s nerves seemed to lessen until he literally leaned on Aaron with his head on his shoulder while they sipped rum punch, chatted with two different women, both named Debra, and stole giggly glances whenever they could. They were good at this. At being a couple.
A woman with strawberry blond hair and an hourglass waist caught eyes with them from across the kitchen and bounced up like a fizzy soda. She clutched Daniel’s hands and squealed in a thick Texan accent, “I’m Melissa, and you must be Daniel! Oh look, how cute. You look just like your daddy.”
Daniel’s face twitched. “Hmm, do I?”
“I’m so glad I got ahold of you,” she continued. “I had to sneak through Robbie’s phone for your number. He’s going to flip when he sees you. And you brought a date, I see?”
“I did.” Daniel interlaced their fingers and gazed up proudly. “This is Aaron.”