I really hadn’t wanted Wills to find out about it, but I’d had no choice but to tell him, after I’d made him promise not to shoot my father. It really wouldn’t have surprised me if he’d gone for his gun. After all, he’d been ready to do that when Poppa arrived unexpectedly with Acacia last summer.
But my side of the aisle wouldn’t be totally empty. I had the boys—all the former rent boys who’d become my family, and they had promised to be there to see me and Wills exchange vows.
And I had Wills.
“It will work out fine,” I told him. “Now why don’t you see what flights are available?” We’d fly directly to Southwest Florida International on Saturday morning, rent a car, and then after visiting with his grandparents, we could drive to Tarpon Springs on Sunday, stay for a few hours, and then come home. “I’ll get dinner ready.”
It seemed like everyone was traveling for that Mother’s Day weekend. Wills was able to book us a through flight from Baltimore—I didn’t ask how he’d managed that—but the only seats he could get were across the aisle from each other.
I put our carry-on in the overhead bin and tucked the duffel beneath the seat in front of me, while Wills somehow found space in the overhead bin on his side of the aisle for the corrugated cardboard box that held the bouquet of lilacs he was bringing to his grandmother.
“That’s the one thing she’s missed most about living in Florida,” he’d murmured as he handed the box to me and got behind the wheel for the drive to the airport.
Didn’t she miss her grandson at all?
* * * *
The pilot announced we were about to land. Wills smiled at me from across the aisle, but I could see he was nervous. I reached across, caught his hand, and gave it a squeeze. “It’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Once we had disembarked and picked up our rental, Wills drove us down to Alico Road, where we picked up I-75 South.
“It should only take about half an hour to get to their exit.”
“Okay.” This part of Florida was different from Tarpon Springs, and I looked out the window and enjoyed the view.
He turned the radio to WAVV, a local easy listening station, and concentrated on driving.
“It’ll be okay, baby.”
“I know. It’s just…”
I reached across and squeezed his thigh. Yeah, I knew.
We exited the Interstate at Pine Ridge Road and continued west to Tamiami Trail.
“I want to stop at a Publix and get some tiramisu. Grandpa likes it a lot.”
So we stopped at the supermarket and paid a visit to their bakery. And I suddenly wondered if Wills was looking for excuses to delay arriving at his grandparents’ home. Was he ashamed to introduce me to them?
Finally he turned down a road lined with live oaks and pulled to the curb.
The house was an old-fashioned Florida home, with a tin roof and Bahama shutters in case of a hurricane. To the right was the requisite sunroom, and to the left was the carport. A couple of Royal palms flanked the drive, while coral and yellow hibiscus plants framed the front porch.
“All set?”
“Uh…let’s leave the luggage in the trunk for now.”
“Sure.”
“Will you take the tiramisu?”
I took the small white box, unbuckled my seatbelt, and got out. “Wills?” He was still in the car.
“Just making sure everything is turned off.”
“And is it?”
“Yes.” He got out, opened the box that held the lilacs and took the bouquet from it, then closed the door and pressed the button on the key that locked the doors. He met my eyes and smiled.
I hoped to God I would never see a smile like that on his face again.
“Okay then.” He nodded and marched up the walk, and for the first time in the year we’d been together he was unaware of my presence. He pressed the doorbell and waited, first rubbing his palm against his thigh, and then running his fingers through his hair.
The door opened, and a small, plump woman gave a shriek and pulled Wills into her arms. “William!”
The tension faded from his body and he folded his arms around her, the bouquet of lilacs almost whacking him in the head.
I breathed a sigh of relief. It was going to be okay.
A man of less than average height stood in the doorway. It might have been because he was naturally short, or it might have been due to his age. A corner of his mouth drooped down, and I remembered Wills saying he’d had a stroke a few years before.
“William. It’s good to see you.”
“Grandpa.” Wills hugged him, but I could tell he was being cautious. The man did look frail.
“Oh, lilacs!” His grandmother took them. “Come in.”
“We brought tiramisu.”
I nudged Wills in the back.
“Oh, and this is Theo Bascopolis.”
They both gave me confused smiles. “Where’s your young lady? Couldn’t she join you? But you said….”
“There is no young lady.”
“You’re not getting married? Oh, William, this was not well done of you. Your grandmother was so pleased—”
“I am getting married. I’m marrying Theo. You’ll come—”
“What?”