Page 70 of Don't Point at the Moon

“I know he’s my friend, but Devon’s hopeless at keeping secrets.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Mitchell cryptically. Tommy peered around at Mitchell, but his gaze was elsewhere, scanning a poster outside the glass front of the building.

They arrived a little after one. The head waiter informed Tommy that the rest of their group of six had already been seated, causing him to wonder who else Devon had invited. Hopefully not Aaron, who would surely make a snide remark about Tommy being out in public with Mitchell. As he rounded the corner and caught sight of the other guests, his jaw dropped open in shock.

Sammi and Daley sat at the back of the semi-circular booth—as though holding court—with Oscar and Devon to their right, leaving room for Tommy and Mitchell. They had already ordered a pot of green tea and clay cups. Tommy felt a creeping dread seeing Sammi and Daley sitting there, solemn and maybe even nervous.

“Why are you two here?” he blurted before either had a chance to speak. “I thought you would be doing last-minute—”

“Sammi asked if they could join us,” said Devon.

“Is everything okay?” asked Tommy, fearing the worst. He looked directly at Daley. “I’ve been trying to call you—”

“Sit down, Tommy,” said Sammi. “We need to talk to you. Both of us.”

A cold dread filled Tommy and for a moment he felt unable to move. Until Mitchell nudged him into the booth and scooted in next to him.

“Do you know what this is about?” Tommy whispered to Mitchell.

“I think so,” said Mitchell, touching Tommy’s knee. “And I think you do, too.”

“Oh, shit,” said Tommy, throwing himself back in his seat and putting his hands over his eyes. “Please don’t tell me the wedding’s off.”

“What?” came Devon’s voice.

Mitchell gently pulled Tommy’s hands away from his face. “Don’t be so melodramatic. Sammi, for goodness’ sake, whatever you have to say, speak up and put your brother out of his misery.”

“Tommy, I knew about Daley’s condition. But neither of us had read the magazine article, not until one of my bridesmaids showed me. Later on Alec told us about your concerns, my silly but darling brother. Daley and I have spoken privately with Mum and Dad and we wanted to talk to you in person at the after-show party. But you disappeared before we had the chance. Apparently, you—and the rest of Asia—got to see a photo of my husband-to-be holding hands with some supposedly random woman. I had no idea, by the way, when I handed you that garbage magazine. But there is a story behind the photo. Daley, do you want to explain or shall I?”

“No, I’ll take over,” said Daley. “Let’s start at the beginning. Everyone knows that I’ve had trouble with my eyesight. Whatmost people didn’t know—including me—was just how serious it had become.”

Daley went on to tell them almost word for word what Alec had divulged, and about the friend called Ellery, who had helped Daley negotiate the uneven lawn.

“What you need to understand, Tommy, is that I love your sister beyond measure. And I would never keep something this serious from her. I told her as soon as I knew. In case she wanted to rethink our wedding plans.”

“And I told him he doesn’t get off that easily. I had to remind him that we’ve been in love since college and that our vows would include the words in sickness and in health. But I am also insisting on two things. Firstly, that we get second opinions from other ophthalmologists. Daley’s specialist tells us the Czech Republic has become a world leader in ophthalmology. He’s already in contact with some global experts on Daley’s condition. We aren’t giving up hope of a cure, are we, love?”

“No, bride-to-be,” said Daley, smiling. And at that moment, the truth he had always known hit Tommy hard. His sister and Daley were meant to be together.

“And the second thing we wanted to announce is that we’re going to waste no time starting a family, to ensure Daley gets to see his firstborn.”

Tommy felt as though the whole restaurant had fallen silent. He rarely showed emotion, but seeing Devon burying his head into his napkin and a tearful Oscar leaning across to give Daley a friendly hug, he felt the sting of tears, made worse when Mitchell placed a warm arm around his shoulders.

“How do you feel about being Uncle Tommy?” asked Mitchell, which at least raised a few chuckles. “Now there’s a sobering thought.”

“Can we please order?” announced Daley, finally breaking the mood. “I had lukewarm scrambled eggs for breakfast on theplane ride over and could frankly eat at least three bowls of ramen.”

A huge weight lifted from Tommy’s shoulders. Feeling back to his old self, he winked at the young waiter to catch his attention before waving him over to give their order. Everyone appeared to relax into lunch. Once the food had reached the table, they finally asked what he and Mitchell had been doing. Tommy explained and, as expected, Devon and Sammi demanded to know where the bags were, insisting on inspecting the purchases.

“No can do. You’ll have to wait until the big day.”

“Surely you already have suits, Mitchell,” said Oscar.

“Boring work suits,” answered Tommy before Mitchell could respond. “And before you ask, I had his permission to help smarten him up for the wedding.”

“Tommy believes my sense of style is questionable,” said Mitchell.

“Really? I think you look perfectly fine,” said Oscar.

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