17. The Old Me Dash

Thank goodness the day was finally here. Beau's extreme apprehension was contagious. The unease of the moment caused me to grip the steering wheel tighter than normal and chat endlessly about nothing. As I took the turn onto my parents' secluded road, I attempted to view my world through Beau's perspective. It was difficult. These surroundings were etched into my being as a place that held comfort and belonging. This was my home.

I slowed the ride on the massive tree-lined road, leading to the house, allowing Beau to absorb the beauty of the scenery. With the sunroof open, a gentle breeze wafted inside. Nature happened around us as the birds chirped and a leaf or two blew in the car. The sun filtered over us through the canopy of branches above.

"What kind of oak trees are these?" Beau asked, his sunglass-covered gaze shifting to look through the sunroof.

My handsome guy was clad in the new clothes we'd bought him. Far different than the tattered jeans and T-shirts he normally wore. His hair was meticulously styled in a cut that did in fact accentuate his strong jaw and chin. His lips appeared plumper and somehow more inviting. The time it took for Beau to follow the stylist's instructions to gain the perfect natural sweep off his forehead was wholly endearing. He'd mastered the art of hair products in only a few short days. Put it all with his deeply tanned skin and my guy was a thing of beauty. He belonged in my world. We'd do well here.

"I believe it's a variety of different oaks. It's the longest tree-lined driveway in Texas. They've deemed it an official road. Richmond Drive," I explained, maintaining the slower speed. In the distance, two ornate gates opened slowly. Just beyond the gates was a flower-edged circle drive with a grand waterfall fountain in the center. All of it had been designed as a backdrop to showcase my parents' stately home.

"Dash, you actually grew up here?" I couldn't see his face as it was turned away from me, but I heard a sense of awe in his voice.

"I did," I replied, nodding, and steered the car around the curve to park in front of the house. "It's been a while since I've been here, but it still feels like home."

"How big is it?" Beau asked, turning my way. I slipped the gearshift in place, taking in the slight furrow of his brow. I lifted his Ray-Bans to see the uneasiness in his expression. "Let's make a pact: I'll stay quiet. You handle the conversation. If they ask me a question that requires more than a yes or no, you answer for me. Got it?"

"I do." I put the sunglasses back in place and reached for the door handle.

"Do I call them ma'am and sir?" Beau asked, his voice was a pitch higher. He was freaking himself out.

"Whatever's comfortable to you," I answered and pushed open the door.

"We're in and out of here. No dillydallying. We have a reason, we give it, then we're done. Over time, we'll gradually begin to get to know one another," Beau declared as I hopped out of the car. His hesitancy was adorable. The fact I'd gotten him this far was a positive. Although we weren't to the goal line yet. He had to leave the vehicle and walk up the steps to see for himself that everything was like I promised. I'd tease him about this for eternity.

I shut my door. Beau still didn't voluntarily open his. Hmm. It was up to me to get him out. I circled the vehicle, reached for his door handle, and pulled it wide open. Without waiting, I began a slow gait up the steps to the front porch. Beau lagged behind, taking in the house as I pushed the front door open.

"Dasham, dear. You're not to use the front entrance. We've discussed this at length. Why're you always such a test?"

I couldn't help my smile at her reprimand. It had been years since I'd seen her last. I'm glad our relationship hadn't changed: me always being myself no matter the situation, her being frustrated with my actions. But her appearance had changed. Her face didn't have a single wrinkle.

She was pretty. More relaxed in long linen pants and a colorful top. Her hair was swept back neatly, fastened with a matching tie. What was more surprising, though, was that she opted for flat sandals. I'd never seen her in anything other than a traditional skirt suit and high heels.

"Mom," I said happily, leaving the door ajar for Beau and heading toward her. "You're glowing today. I like the new look."

Her surprised expression slowly turned endearing. "Son, this is my usual look these days," she explained, her hands gently smoothing down the front of her pants.

"I've never seen you look like this before. I prefer you this way," I explained, leaning in to give her a spontaneous hug. I missed her.

"Dasham," she said quickly, her hands going to my chest, blocking my affection. "We don't purposefully wrinkle our clothing."

The reprimand made me chuckle. While her attire might have changed, certain habits never would. "Where's Dad?"

"He's in the den. We've been expecting you," she said as if I weren't right on time.

But no matter her words, I'd guess she truly appreciated the compliment. Her hand floated around my back, guiding us toward my father. Glancing back, I noticed Beau's entry. He shut the door behind him. With a practiced move that appeared effortless, he swept his hair back in place. He was undeniably handsome. Pride rushed over me. I couldn't wait to share him with my family, and nodded for him to follow.

"Father." I beamed, genuinely happy to see him. It had been years. I took strides across the large room, a space where he and I had had many long conversations. I felt a rush of emotion, realizing how much I had missed him. A set of open blueprints held his concentration.

As I approached, he switched gears, removing his readers to give me all his attention. His arms opened wide. I was pulled into a warm, fatherly embrace. He gave the best bear hugs.

"You're looking sharp, son. I heard about your success at the mock trials. It made your siblings green with envy."

I smiled and leaned back. He held on, apparently unwilling to let me go. He always had a way of brightening my mood and upping my self-esteem.

"I have someone I'd like you to meet," I said. My mother had meandered close by, now leaning against the table my father worked from.

"You've finally rid yourself of the silliness?" she asked. Her words were sharp even if the delivery came with a smile.

"Margot," my father scolded my mother, but added his own judgmental thoughts. "We never have to utter another word of that nonsense again. We'll be able to spend more time with you."

My stomach knotted, but I put it aside to dissect later. "Well, father, mother, I didn't rid myself of anything." I beamed happy, full of pride, my smile spreading wide. "My guy came back to me. Meet…" I turned, sweeping my arm out to…no one. I scanned the entire room. Beau wasn't there.

Perhaps a sudden bout of anxiety got the best of him, and he'd hightailed it out of there. That worry had me retracing my steps in order to find him.

At the door of the den, I turned and bumped straight into Beau. "What're you doing?" I whispered.

"Y'all were havin' a moment. I gave you space," Beau answered quietly.

"Come on." I reached out a hand to hold Beau's, guiding us back into the room. "This is Beau. He came back, just as I knew he would. Beau, this is my mom, Margot, and my father, Jack."

I couldn't have been more pleased. My family was complete. Beau rooted in his spot a step or two behind me. He didn't budge when I tugged him forward, making me look back at him. I spotted the nervousness in his expression, but there was something more there as well.

I tilted back toward my mother and father, trying to see what he saw.

"Jack, you said you took care of this." I couldn't make sense of the words as my mother stared at Beau, reaching for the armrest of the closest chair to sit. My father looked business angry. The stern face he gave to his enemies.

"I believed I did." His entire focus was also on Beau. "Boy, where's your father?"

"His father died." In that second, everything became clear. Time froze. The blood seeped from my face, my body tensed, and my thoughts turned harsh.

My mother lowered her head into her hand. My father's mouth was moving while he reached for the landline telephone. While I couldn't hear all of his angry outburst, I did catch phrases like " contracts in place" and "money transferred" and "that degenerate bastard." As those watchwords filtered through my brain, my anger increased. Reality zipped back into place.

"Are you implying you're responsible for keeping us apart?" The words were absurd, barely out of my mouth before I rejected them. These were my parents. They witnessed my pain firsthand. They'd promised to help me.

"Son, you can't be serious," my mother said, tossing out a careless hand as if I were being ridiculous. "You've always tested us at every turn."

With my father still on the call, he pointed a finger at me. "We will not have our family name tainted with trash. It's past time you grew up and stopped flaunting your irresponsibility and ludicrous world views in our faces."

"What did you do?" I asked again, putting the rest of this bizarre discussion on hold. Beau was my only concern.

"Grow up, Dasham. Your father did what he had to do, and the boy's father accepted. It was supposed to be over with." My mother answered for my father as if she were saying the most reasonable things.

A glance at my father showed his cheeks red with anger. Then he slammed the phone down on the receiver.

"You listen to me closely, Dasham," my father said harshly, his index finger pointing at me. "If this relationship continues, ours will not." I took his words like the blow of an unexpected right hook. My entire body numbed. I was stunned.

"All this time, you were ultimately responsible for my unhappiness, not Beau's father. Do you know what that man did to him?" Pain washed over me in waves.

"What I should have done to you, I'm certain," my father replied flippantly.

"I always said you were too lenient with him," my mother added, apparently seconding my father's view of abuse as an entirely appropriate choice. "You were always pushing him to pursue his dreams."

"He's a homosexual, Margot. A liability. We can't have him in the family business, no matter how smart he is," my father explained, stating his reasoning even further. "He had to learn a trade."

Again, I put a pin in his words, shoving them aside to deal with later. Beau. How did he fare through all the bombshell reveal? I glanced back, but he wasn't there. Shit . Nothing mattered more than the apology I needed to give him, then begging him to stay with me.

Everything important inside me demanded I make this right. I couldn't lose him now. I started out of the den. My father's booming voice followed me. "You keep this up, and you're no longer a part of this family. You'll be cut off and removed from everything. We won't tolerate you or your foolishness for another second."

Once I didn't see Beau anywhere, I began to jog through the foyer then the front doors. Beau wasn't anywhere to be seen.

"Beau," I called loudly, panic setting in.

A groundskeeper working on the flower beds pointed me in the direction of the long drive before my father came out of the house.

"You're making your decision, Dasham."

My jog turned into a run toward my car, in full agreement with whatever decision he made because he was no longer in my life until he made this right for Beau.

"I'll never willingly leave him, but you certainly may have destroyed my chances." Before dropping into the driver's side seat, I turned toward the porch, looking him straight in the eyes where he stood close to the front door. "He was nervous about coming here today. He didn't believe he'd fit in. You disgustingly proved him right. I'm utterly disappointed in you."

My father lost his shit, face reddening, drawing in a breath to continue his ranting and raving. I had no time to waste on his pointless words. As I plopped down into the driver's seat, the unexpected turn of events brought tears to my eyes. A young Beau had been right about everything. He'd never wavered in his belief even when I'd argued on behalf of my family. I'd foolishly believed my father was always on my side and, therefore, on Beau's. Those rose-colored glasses had been firmly in place. What a silly boy I'd been.

I peeled out around the circle, letting the car's rev show my irritation. Racing down the driveway, I prayed I'd find Beau. Dread of what was to come coiled in my gut. My love. How did this end?