Page 8 of Liberating Love

Jameson walks in with a bag of chips and a box of crackers and plops them in the middle of the table. “Please don’t tell my boyfriend that I didn’t put these out in a bowl or on a platter. He’d be pissed. My attempts at saying it’s only my dad and brother fall on deaf ears. He says if we have company we need to make it nice, blah blah blah.”

I stifle a laugh at my son’s disgruntled face, completely able to picture the lecture from Holds. Jovany asks, “Where is Holden?”

“He’s volunteering tonight at the pet rescue he worked in through high school.”

“That’s right. I knew he did that. I’m sorry to miss him, though.”

I wave Jovany off. “Don’t be. He’s the one who suggested we have dinner tonight. I think he wants to give the three of us more alone time together.”

Jovany nods, but then takes a good look at the casserole dish Jameson sets in front of him. “Is this the artichoke dip from Thanksgiving?”

Jameson startles at Jovany’s excited tone and laughs. “Okay, I have to tell Holds he nailed that. He said you really seemed to enjoy it, and considering how happy you are, I guess he was right.”

Jameson and I exchange amused glances as Jovany scoops out nearly a quarter of the dip onto his plate and grabs the chips. “You did good, little brother. Holden is a keeper.” Those are the last words he speaks, and then he’s stuffing a whole chip loaded down with the creamy, cheesy goodness into his mouth.

He’s not wrong, so we all sit back and demolish it, not stopping until the dish is clean. The timer goes off in the kitchen and Jameson retreats to retrieve our dinner as well. We keep the conversation light and casual as we eat, but it’s nice. Both my boys seem to go out of their way to avoid certain topics, but since we’re together and they’re at least interacting, I count it as a win. As much as I want to bring the topic back to Aiden, I don’t. There’s nothing I’d like more than to get to know him better, but I have to respect his wishes. That doesn’t mean I’m going to let him keep avoiding his friends, though.

“So what are the plans for Christmas? It’s only… what? Ten days away. I know we’re planning on going to Drix and Gavin’s Christmas Day, Jameson, but I’d like to get together with Jovany at some point, too. When do you boys need to be at your uncle’s to celebrate?”

“Actually, Drix tracked me down the other day. He and Gavin extended the invitation for me to come over for Christmas, too, so…” Jovany cuts off and peers at Jameson with an unusual vulnerability.

His eyes widen. “Oh, yeah, I knew they were going to ask you. Do you want to come?” Jovany nods hesitantly, and Jameson smiles shyly back. “Please come, then. I’d love for you to celebrate with us.”

“Okay, good. Yeah, so I guess we can all get together on Christmas, Dad,” Jovany says.

“So you guys will be with your mother’s family on Christmas Eve, then? That’s not a problem if you don’t show up to your uncle’s on Christmas day, too? He must be mellowing in his old age.”

Jameson clears his throat before saying, “So with you being home—”

Jovany puts his hand up. “Stop, Jameson. Stop. Tell Dad the truth.”

“It’s not that big a deal,” Jameson says, sounding unsure.

“What’s going on?” They’re staring at each other like they’re in battle; again, so much like when they were kids, that I handle it the same way. “Tell me. Now.”

Jovany says to his brother, “Look, you can’t even imagine how much respect I have for you. When I found out that you never told Dad any more than you had to… I know it was to protect him, and not as much because you cared about Mom’s feelings, but still… It was the right thing to do, and I’m not sure I would have done it.”

“What in the hell is he talking about, Jameson?” I demand.

“I haven’t been welcome at anything since”—he waves his hand in a circle—“you know, everything.”

“No, I don’t know. I knew you weren’t close at all, but you’re not included for the holidays? Whateverythingis he talking about?” I ask Jovany.

“Mom told Jameson that between him sticking up for you and coming out as gay that he was no son of hers. He was essentially kicked out of her side of the family.”

“And you allowed this?” I asked my oldest, practically growling. “So he’s been alone the whole time I was in prison?”

“Not alone,” Jameson says, jumping in. “I had Drix. He was there for me, and Holds was gone for years, too, so we were there for each other. That’s what best friends are for, right?”

I sit back in my chair, scrubbing my hand over my face as rage consumes me. Before I can choke on it, I take a deep calming breath, and then another, and then again. When I’m confident I can speak without killing my own kid, I jab a finger toward Jovany. “Make it right.”

He opens his mouth, but Jameson beats him to it. “He’s trying, Dad.” As he speaks, he rises out of his chair and clamps his hands on his brother’s shoulders. It’s the shame on his face and the moisture that swells up in Jovany’s eyes that soothes the beast raging in me, though.

“You’re a more forgiving man than most of us, Jameson. I’m proud of you, son.”

He quirks his lips into a half-grin. “I had one hell of a role model.”

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