Page 32 of Thrown

Fuck. Maybe hehadhad too much to drink.

“I should do more, be more,” Robbie went on, wandering in his own thoughts. “Everyone else in the family is out there doing something spect-shpec-shh.”

“You just filmed a spot as a guest judge for a popular show,” Toby reminded him, knowing where he’d been going before the ale tied his tongue.

“It’s why Keith left me, you know,” Robbie sighed.

“So we’re doing this now, are we?” Toby asked.

He made a show of kicking his shoes off, then shifting to sit on the bed facing Robbie, making a face like he was listening.

Robbie glanced mournfully at him. “We’d started talking about marriage and kids. And I know, I know, gay men marrying and having kids is getting so cliché and heteronomananv.”

Toby grinned, too charmed by Robbie’s slurring for his own good.

“I love kids,” he said, resting a hand on Robbie’s leg.

“And then he broke it off,” Robbie said with a shrug that nearly tipped him off balance. “Just like that. Said I was getting too vanilla for him.”

“Bastard,” Toby said, lifting one knee so he could rest his chin on it.

“It made me feel like shit,” Robbie said in a rush of emotion.

Toby’s eyebrows shot up. Robbie wasn’t really one for swearing. It came as a surprise.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Robbie shrugged again, his eyes drooping. “What’s so wrong with wanting a family?” he asked. “I love my family. I liked your family, too. Cute kids.”

“Thanks,” Toby smiled.

“And what’s so wrong with that?”

Toby blinked, not entirely certain where Robbie was headed.

“It’s a joke, you know,” Robbie went on.

“What’s a joke?”

“My name.”

“Robbie? Doesn’t seem like a joke to me.”

Robbie laughed. “Robert Hawthorne, Jr.”

Toby still didn’t see the joke. He shrugged and shook his head.

“Dad hates the patriarchal, aristocratic system we came from. That’s why he named his eldest Rafe instead of his own name, like he was supposed to do.”

Toby sat a little straighter. Come to think of it, all of Robbie’s brothers, except Nally, were older.

“He and Mum thought I was going to be their last, which I wasn’t, so the joke’s on them, so they named me Robert Hawthorne, Jr. as a joke. A joke.” He snorted drunkenly.

“I still don’t get it.”

“A joke,” Robbie said louder, opening his eyes and looking at Toby like he was thick. “Usually, the heir gets the family name,the most important son. Dad went ahead and gave it to the least important son as a way to thumb his nose at the system.”

Toby made a long, humming noise. He was starting to get it. Robbie must have had all sorts of expectations heaped on him, with a name like that. Or maybe he’d lived his whole life feeling like he was the butt of someone else’s joke. Either way, it couldn’t be nice.

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