Page 108 of Degrees of Control

“I saw a shrink! I saw a shrink and we talked about it and I’m fine. Will doesn’t have anything to do with getting married, it’s completely different!”

As he listed the reasons why it was different, Kelsey listened patiently. When he was finally embarrassed enough by his ramblings to shut up, she cleared her throat. “You spoke to a shrink since you decided not to fly home for Will’s Christmas party?”

“No. Why would I do that?”

“Maybe because he sent a group email saying he and his asshole wife weren’t gonna talk to you until you agreed to come home for the holidays and apologise for whatever the fuck you said to him.”

“And?”

Kelsey took a pointed sip of Millers.

“You think I should apologise to him?”

“Not at all.”

Her calmness only served to irritate him further. James’ anger was reaching that brittle, white-hot splitting point it had reached the night before when Charlotte had been touching Pea Coat’s arm. He wanted to kick, to punch and shout but most of all, he wanted to leave. He moved to stand up.

“Stay where you are,” Kelsey said, her voice suddenly cold as ice.

He froze. “What do you want from me?”

“What did you and Will talk about?”

“Nothing,” James spat, then realized he sounded like a child. “I told him me and Charlotte weren’t flying out for Christmas. He laid on the big guilt trip about mom and dad and the kids and I told him to shove it up his ass. That’s it.”

“Anything else?”

“No.”

But ‘anything else’ came back to him, even though he didn’t want to think about it. The way Will had ragged on him, telling him that if Kelsey could be there for family Christmas after decades of homophobic bullshit, the least he could do was show up. How he’d felt ashamed and come close, so fucking close to agreeing he’d be there before remembering the last time he’d seen Meghan, how she’d laughed and preened. He realised Davison, Will’s oldest boy, was fourteen, a gangly bag of hormones, and he’d wondered in that moment how Meghan could stand to look at him knowing that when James was his age she’d—

He’d retched then, on the phone to his older brother. He’d bent over the kitchen sink and retched, his body’s definitive answer to the question of whether he’d be able to handle another Christmas back in the viper’s nest, pretending nothing was wrong.

“I’m not coming,” he’d told Will. “Sorry for the inconvenience. You guys can call me an asshole and a traitor all you like, but Charlotte and I won’t be there. We’re busy.”

“Doing what?” Will snarled, all semblance of civility out the window. “Don’t be a selfish prick, Mom wants us all there.”

“I know but—”

“You’ll be the only one who doesn’t show up. You’ll ruin the holidays for everyone.”

“I’m sorry,” James said, and meant it. He was sorry the story of their family was tainted, that it was never going to feel the way it looked in photographs; all those blonde kids with their ponies and muscle cars looking like Disney’s idea of the perfect All-American family, but it was all lies. Matthew was a recovering drug addict. Sarah had been divorced three times, Kelsey was gay and he was…the way he was. No amount of smug-ass Christmases and playing happy families was gonna change that.

“Enough of this bullshit James, book your flights.” Will’s voice had become deeper. He was mimicking their father’s ‘you listen to me boy’ tone, though James doubted he knew he was doing it.

“You’re not our old man, and I wouldn’t have to do a thing you say even if you were.”

His brother laughed, a hateful burst of antagonism. “That’s the Jamie we all know and love, ain’t it? The blessed man-child who has to have his own precious way all the time or else he cries ‘unfair.’”

“Fuck off.”

“Nicely said. How is your girl, Jimmy-Boy? Cheated on her yet?”

That name struck him like lightning, the name and the accusation. “Don’t you dare talk to me about Charlotte.”

“Is that a yes? Wouldn’t be the first time. When it comes to women, you’ve got a worse track record than dad, and that’s saying something.”

James wanted to be calm, needed to be calm.Couldn’tbe calm. “You fuckin’ asshole, I’ve never. Iwouldnever—”

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