Page 38 of Starts With a Bang

I halted and turned to look into the kitchen again. The pendant lights above the island acted as a spotlight, showcasing Sven in all his beauty. And not just his looks. It was the way he held himself, the confident way he moved, and the joy he brought to those around him. Well, maybe not Emerson with his scrunched nose and grim mouth, but he didn’t count. Nana tilted her head back and laughed at something Sven said, and he beamed like he’d won the lottery. Mom and Christian turned from their tasks with smiles on their faces too. They both contributed to the conversation before continuing their tasks. Everyone looked relaxed and happy. Except Emerson.

He looked up suddenly as if sensing my presence. I didn’t think he could see me from where I stood in the shadows, and it didn’t matter if he did. He’d only been a side note in my observations while Sven had been the center of them. If Emerson had mistaken my presence and intentions, then I’d happily set him straight. That would require me to speak to him, but that was inevitable anyway. Ignoring him and Christian would only make my family feel worse, and it could give my ex a false sense of importance in the narrative of my life. He could mistake my silent treatment as pining or jealousy all he wanted. I thought of the brief but powerful interlude I’d shared with Sven in our room and smiled. Emerson would be so wrong. He was nothing but an asterisk and a footnote in my life story. I wanted Sven to be the main plot, my leading man, and the theme that summed up my life. Damn, I had it bad.

“Sven can handle himself,” Uncle John declared as I joined him and Dad.

“That’s what I’m worried about. And Sven hates the color orange.”

“Why?” John asked.

“He says it’s the only color that doesn’t look good on him,” I replied.

“No, I wanted to know why it’s a consideration,” my uncle explained.

“It’s the standard color of uniform used in jails and prisons these days.”

My remark earned some chuckles, but I wasn’t kidding. Sven had already threatened to cut a bitch.

“He’s good people,” Dad said. He used the fire poker to move the wood around a bit before setting it down and clasping me on the shoulder. “I’m happy for you.”

“I am too,” John said. “The thing that happened between you, Emerson, and Christian was a nasty business.”

“John,” Dad warned.

My uncle held up his hand. “I need to say some things that are long overdue. I don’t agree with the way our family handled the situation. We all chose sides, regrouped to our corners, and came out swinging like prize fighters.”

Dad nodded. “Then we stopped talking at all. We buried our heads in the sand and pretended the others didn’t exist.”

John turned away from the fire and looked at me. “For what it’s worth, I am truly sorry you got hurt. And I regret any part Christian played in it. I should’ve said so when it happened. I was too busy trying to shelter my son instead of holding him accountable for his actions.” John looked at the house. “He claimed things didn’t happen the way you thought they did.” He held up his hands to signal peace. “And I don’t know the truth, but I know Christian has missed you every day of your absence. I sometimes think he only puts up with Emerson’s bullshit because he’s the last connection he has to you. A breakup alsomeans he lost you for nothing. Chris has always loved you like a brother, and if this farce of a holiday affords him even a few minutes to speak with you, then I guess I will suck it up and not be the Grinch.”

Uncle John caught me off guard and left me momentarily speechless. I swallowed down the lump in my throat. I wanted to promise to hear Christian out, but I didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up. “Thank you, Uncle John. That means a lot to me.”

He nodded and clapped my other shoulder before looking at my dad. “The fire looks good. Are we ready to give this a try, Dominic?”

“Ready as we’ll ever be.” He studied the flames a little longer. “We should probably test out a simple pizza to work out the kinks before we get to the good stuff.”

“I’ll go in and put something together,” I volunteered.

“You just want to get back to your man,” Dad teased.

“Guilty.” Why deny it? “You guys coming in to get refills, or would you like me to bring out the next round when I return with the test dummy pizza?”

“I’ll go inside and see if your mom needs help,” Dad said.

“I’ll monitor the fire,” John replied. “But I’ll take a beer when you come back out.”

“Sure thing, Uncle John.”

A wave of heat rolled over me when I stepped through the back door, and not because of the temperature shift. The sensation came from the look in Sven’s eyes when they connected with mine. His gorgeous mouth curved into a Cheshire-like grin because Sven knew he had me where he wanted me, or at least he would once we escaped to our bedroom.

“So you’re a hairstylist, huh?” Emerson asked snidely.

My ex had unwittingly lobbed an insult he would soon regret. If I’d harbored a single ounce of love for him, I might’ve tried todeflect or absorb some of the hell Sven was about to unleash on him. Instead, I snatched a few green pepper rings from the pile in front of Sven. I kissed him square on the mouth before settling against the island next to him. I leaned toward Nana and said, “Watch this.”

She snagged a pepper ring from my hand. “This is a piss-poor substitute for popcorn, but it will have to do. We can’t very well pause live entertainment.”

I noticed Mom and Christian had turned from the counter. The earlier joy I’d witnessed in their expressions was gone. Chris looked worried, and Mom was pissed. She met my gaze, and I could tell she wanted to interfere, but I shook my head slightly. Dad snagged a handful of shredded cheese and settled against the counter next to Mom, looping an arm around her shoulders to either hold her back or give comfort. She smiled up at him and relaxed.

“I am a hairstylist,” Sven said calmly. “Is that a problem for you?”

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