Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99675 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99675 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Be yourself? Be yourself? Most of my life people have been telling me not to be myself––and this man wants me to be myself?
Before I can give this epic event the thought it deserves, he pushes me into the massive living room. Thirty or so people mill about, talking and sipping cocktails. Every one of them turns to look at us.
“Come on, I want to introduce you to my father.”
“No, no. Fancy, wait,” I whisper shout.
Little good that does. Removing the hand he has on my back, he laces his fingers through mine and drags me toward a group of men in a corner. If it wasn’t for the impeccable Turnbull and Asser suit, one of them could be mistaken for Paul Bunyan.
“Dad.”
Paul Bunyan’s smile is broad and bright. “Ethan, my favorite son.”
Ethan smirks and embraces his father. Two stuffy looking middle aged men standing with Mr. Vaughn greet Ethan before they peel away under the guise of refilling their drinks.
“I want to introduce you to someone.” Ethan moves aside to reveal me and with an outstretched hand I step forward. Mr. Vaughn’s hand swallows mine.
“Amber Jones, nice to meet you, sir, I mean, your Honor.”
His warm brown eyes turn into crescents, the only feature he and his son seem to have in common.
“Lovely to meet you, Amber, but please, call me Harry.”
No chance of that happening.
“What time is dinner starting?” Ethan asks his father.
“Norma’s still getting ready.” Father and son share a knowing look. While the two of them quietly converse, I’m happy to be forgotten, taking the opportunity to study the indigenous species. My favorite past time after watching movies is watching people and this scene is rife with entertainment.
“We met through Calvin––”
That garners my immediate attention. I find Ethan looking down at me with an amused twinkle in his eyes. He squeezes my hand, the one, I now realize he never let go of.
“You’ll have to introduce her to your brother,” Mr. Vaughn says with an equally mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
“Jake and Hope already met her.”
Is that pride I detect in his voice? Probably imagining it. Probably.
“Really?” Mr. Vaughn takes a sip of his whiskey.
“Yeah, we ran into them last weekend at Chelsea Piers. You didn’t tell me they were coming.”
“Didn’t I?”
“No, Dad, you didn’t.”
“My bad.”
My bad? The Honorable Harrison Vaughn says ‘my bad’? This species is very interesting.
“Hello, friends and family,” a whiskey roughened voice drawls. A woman’s voice. Everyone turns. And there she is, standing at the foot of the stairs, the birthday girl. This is not what I expected. I expected snooty elegance. I expected a tight face in a Chanel suit. That’s not what’s floating into the room however. Nope. Norma Ellington is a hardcore hippie.
“So, no love match with Daryl? And I was so sure you two would hit it off.” She pats Ethan’s face and I draw blood biting the inside of my cheek to keep the laughter from exploding out of me. Shortly after Norma appeared and greeted her guests, she made a beeline for Ethan.
“There was never a chance of one because I am not gay.”
Her curly white hair, swept back in a colorful silk scarf, dances as she nods in understanding. Or more precisely, feigned understanding. “There’s no need to hide anymore, Darling. It’s 2017, everyone’s coming out of the closet. And not only do I accept you for who you are, but love you even more for your bravery.”
“Mrs. Ellington, I can assure you that your grandson is not gay,” I feel the need to say in his defense. I’ve never seen Ethan this close to losing his shit, but he is definitively almost there.
“It’s okay, Dear, no need for you to continue the charade. I have you in two separate rooms. Just in case Ethan hits it off with Thaddeus, my hairdresser.” She wiggles her bejeweled fingers at him.
And people think I’m too much.
“I’m not gay, Norma. Don’t know how many times I have to repeat myself before you accept it.”
“What makes you think he’s gay, Mrs. Ellington?”
“Call me, Norma. Mrs. Ellington makes me sound old. Well, it’s been years since he’s dated anyone. We haven’t seen him with a woman since that unfortunate incident.”
“You mean the incident where I brought my girlfriend home for Christmas and she broke up with me to marry my brother.”
“Yes, Dear, that one. But in the end, it all worked out. You were free to explore your sexuality, and your brother is happily married.” Norma waves at someone in the distance, her gold bangles clanging. “Connie Sawyer is hitting the tequila hard. God help us all if she starts singing. She sounds like a pig in the midst of a death rattle.” With that, she departs, leaving behind the scent of sandalwood and vanilla.
Hands stuffed in his pants pocket, Ethan watches her float away while my attention remains on him.