Page 93 of Steady Stroke
“No way.” Emmett’s heart hammered at the idea of Lincoln going to that wedding, facing his hideous parents, alone. “I’m doing this with you. I have my anxiety meds. We’re doing this together, Linc.”
“I hate seeing you upset.”
“I’m not upset. I would be upset if you ditched me here and went to Boston alone. This is me freaking out over absolutely nothing.”
“Going to a wedding with your boyfriend, when you haven’t really come out to anyone besides close friends and family, is a huge deal, Em.” Lincoln kissed their knuckles. “It means so much that you’re willing to do this. And I won’t hold you to the whole one-dance thing.”
Emmett’s heart swelled at the way Lincoln was trying to take care of him. Make it better for him, when tomorrow should be about Lincoln. Not Emmett. “I’m going to hold myself to that one-dance thing.”
Lincoln smiled. “How about we play tomorrow by ear? Hell, if my dad makes a scene at the ceremony, we might not make it to the reception.”
“Do you think he will?”
“No idea. Absolutely none. In the past, I’d have said no. My parents were very much about appearances. Looking like the perfect family on the outside, even if we were a mess inside. We never made a public scene.” He snorted bitter laughter. “Then again, in the past I’d have said my father wouldn’t attack me for coming out. Guess it’s hard to really know people.”
Emmett’s gut twisted sharply. “Guess so.”
“You know what? Fuck my dad. We’re going to support Mercedes, eat free food, and to maybe have a dance. Sound like a plan?”
“Yes, it does.”
That night Emmett dreamed about Lincoln dancing with a woman wearing a floral hijab, who removed her head scarf and was suddenly Emmett’s mother, her face scarred from the fire. She looked at Emmett, who was dancing with Van, with so much disappointment that he wanted to cry. He woke to early-morning sunshine and an empty bed, and he stared blankly at the ceiling until his bladder forced him to get up.
Zelda had a full breakfast of pancakes and bacon going in the kitchen, and Lincoln was already eating with Robert.
“You didn’t wake me,” Emmett said as he helped himself to coffee.
“Didn’t have to be up yet,” Lincoln replied. “I thought I’d let you sleep a little more.”
“Thanks.”
He felt okay enough to eat a single dry pancake, but as soon as they’d showered, dressed, and were back on the interstate, his stomach started doing somersaults again. He threw up at a rest stop in New York state, downed more Pepto, and kept going. Lincoln tossed him the occasional concerned look, but they both knew why Emmett was nervous. And sure enough, the moment their GPS put them in the parking lot of the Calvary Church, Lincoln paled.
Emmett shifted into park so he could grab Lincoln’s hands and squeeze them tight. “Deep breaths, okay?”
Lincoln nodded and did as told. His color stayed bad, but his expression shifted from fuck-this-shit to I’ve-got-this. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen them.”
“I know. But your parents don’t define you. Whatever does or doesn’t happen today, remember that. You are an amazing musician with a talent for pushing people to be better than they thought they could be. You’ve done that for your friends, and you did that for me. You help me be better every single day, and I love you so much.”
His eyes glittered. “I love you, too, Em. Thank you.”
He kissed Lincoln, putting the taste of his man on his tongue. “Let’s do this, okay?”
“Okay.”
When Lincoln had planned their trip to Boston, he’d almost put in a few hours for him and Emmett to spend exploring the city, since neither of them had ever been farther north than New York City. The moment he set foot on the asphalt of the church parking lot, he was glad he hadn’t. As much as he was here to support his sister, he couldn’t wait to be gone. He wanted to get back to his real life.
His real family.
He met Emmett at the front of the car, and Emmett made his heart pound by taking his hand and holding it firmly. They were right on time and joined a small line of people entering the church. Two men Lincoln didn’t know asked, “Bride or groom?,” and they were directed to the left side of the sanctuary.
Lincoln sat in the middle of the rows, not bothering to lookaround. His parents were behind the scenes, waiting for their part in the ceremony. He had a handful of cousins who might show up, but the majority of the bride’s side seemed to be friends and coworkers.
Terry’s imposing, two-hundred-pound uncle was easy to spot on the groom’s side, and the memory of Mercedes’s threat eased some of his anxiety.
The music changed to something more formal, and one groomsman escorted a nicely dressed woman he assumed was the mother of the groom. Then he saw her. Laura West had aged well. Not a speck of gray in her carefully styled hair. Every swipe of makeup perfect. She smiled her entire way down the aisle, her attention straight ahead. Not even attempting to spot the son she had to know was there.
It hurt a little.
