Page 51 of Archer
“Since we probably all have work in the morning, I grilled a little while ago and been keeping the food warm in the oven, so dinner’s ready.”
Goddess bless my brother for trying to make this as quick and painless as possible. He went to the oven and pulled out the food on a tray that he deposited right in the center of the table, where he already had serving utensils, the place settings, and pitchers of water and iced tea.
“Please, come sit down and eat.”
My father sat at the head of the table where Ben usually sat, which I found rude. Dad knew that was his spot, and he’d never done that before. Mom sat on one side of my dad, and I sat on the other. Ben took a seat next to Mom and across from Archer, who sat next to me.
The first thing out of my dad’s mouth was, “I sure appreciate your consideration, Ben. I’ve got an early day tomorrow, and so do you and your ma. I can’t imagine a grown man like Archer doesn’t have responsibilities in the morning, too. I guess the only one who doesn't really have to worry about getting enough sleep tonight is Crispin.”
“Oh, Fred.” Mom glanced at Archer like my dad was being a jokester or something. There was no one at this table who didn’t know better.
“What?” my dad asked as we all served ourselves. “He’s dating our son, so it’s not like he doesn’t realize that he doesn’t have a real job.”
Ben opened his mouth, but I shook my head at him. We both knew that was my father’s opinion on the yoga studio, and I’d warned Archer what to expect already. It was what it was, and I didn’t want to have this argument again tonight. Besides, the more we argued with him, the more wound up he’d get, and the more likely there was a chance that he’d say something truly mortifying.
As we served ourselves, Mom asked Archer, “So what do you do for a living?” Her tone was friendly, but Mom was good people. Hell, Dad had been good people, too, until recently.
“I own a photography studio over at the Windsor Place.”
Mom's eyes lit up. “You’re a professional photographer? How fun. You must meet the most interesting people.”
“A studio over there at Windsor, huh?” Dad asked.
“Yes, sir,” Archer said. “I own a condo in there as well.”
Dad tipped his chair back on two legs while peering at Archer like he was a bug under a microscope. “That’s impressive.” It was hard to say whether he was being facetious or not.
“So, Archer, do you take pictures at events as well?” Ben asked, trying to put this conversation on solid footing.
Archer nodded. “Yeah, I shoot at weddings, anniversaries, birthday parties, and I take family portraits at locations of the client’s choice or in my studio.”
“I assume you moved to digital photography, Archer, but do you still work with film at all?”
Dad snorted. “That’s a good question. You look like you’re of an age where you’d have started out with film.”
Jesus. It figured that my dad would find a roundabout way to mention Archer’s age. But Archer only smiled and answered the question. I owed him later for being so awesome about this.
None of us had hardly touched our food, yet, and I wasn’t sure I’d even be able to eat at all being this anxious when my dad said, “Well, Crispin. I guess good for you.”
Surprised, my gaze popped up from where I’d been pushing my vegetables around on my plate to stare at my dad. “What do you mean?”
He tipped his head toward Archer. “If you’re not going to work a real job, then your best bet was finding yourself a Sugar Daddy to take care of you.”
My mouth dropped open. My parents didn’t know anything about my desire to have a Daddy or that I considered myself a boy. Because, come on, that wasn’t the stuff they needed to know. Unfortunately, that meant only one thing. My father was implying that I was with Archer for his money. That was so far beyond insulting that tears immediately rushed to my eyes.
Archer
Crispin looked over at me, his eyes brimming with tears. I wasn’t sure if he was embarrassed, hurt, or angry, but I knew what I was, and that was done.
I pushed my chair back from the table. Crispin deserved so much better, and I refused to sit here and listen to this man insult my sweet boy. I held out my hand. “I think it’s time for us to go.”
I didn’t care that we were only halfway through dinner. I’d make him something at home or treat him to some good old greasy comfort food from a drive-thru. Whatever he wanted.
He nodded and reached for my hand to let me pull him up when his mother finally spoke up. “No, don’t go. We haven’t seen you in weeks.”
I turned to look at her. “And why is that, do you think?”
She blushed and ducked her head.