Chapter 5

5

NEIL

Thanksgiving Day

“If you don’t get out here now, I’m calling in reinforcements.” I hear Vaughn laughing from the other room. “You think I’m joking. They’d be here in a matter of minutes to help me drag you out of this apartment.”

My brother struts into the room as if we’re not already behind the schedule I sent him. I know that traffic shouldn’t be horrible today, but I don’t want to be late to the gathering. It’s not polite, and I don’t really want Grayson to face this alone. As his older brothers, we should at least try to be present. Though I imagine Vaughn knows Grayson better than I do, and if he doesn’t seem rushed then maybe I should calm down.

“Have you tried medical remedies for all that agitation you’ve got built up? It might do you wonders to actually relax.”

I roll my eyes at him. He knows I don’t take any type of medicine, prescribed or recreational. Plus, I don’t believe they’d help me at this point. My issues goa lot further than him thinking I’m a tightass.

“Let’s just get a move on. I’m ready to get there.”

This time, it’s Vaughn rolling his eyes. Hands on hips, I point at him as I prepare to give him a piece of my mind.

“Save the speech for someone else. I’m dressed in this stupid outfit you’re making me wear. Let’s get this over with.”

I hold back the angry words since this is as close to excitement as Vaughn gets. He’s always been the more reserved twin between the two of us. I’m not exactly the life of the party, but I can at least be friendly and make conversation. Vaughn draws attention, but it’s usually unwanted. He would rather sit in the corner playing with a dog or something while the rest of the room goes on without him.

At the car, I check one last time to make sure I have the right directions listed and that there’s enough gas to get there. My systems annoy Vaughn. He sags in his seat, his arms crossed while he waits for me to finish up. When I feel confident that I’ve gone over my list a few times, I pull away from his place to head to Princess Aster’s.

Neither of us talk much on the way there. There isn’t much to say that we don’t already know. We text enough to keep up to date on the latest happenings in each other’s lives. Well, as much as we share anyway. I have my own things I don’t share, and I have no doubt that Vaughn is keeping something from me. Call it twin instinct or whatever. My brother is up to something, and he has been for a while. Maybe one day he’ll feel comfortable enough to share with me what it is.

As we pull in, I notice a few other cars parked. Good. We won’t be the first to arrive. I always hate being the early bird almost as much as I hate being late. Uncomfortable conversation makes my skin crawl. I shiver at the idea as we get out of the car to head inside.

Walking up to the door, I force myself to remain calm. Fisher and Grayson will both be here. No matter what happens, I have those two to talk with. And Vaughn will probably make some new friends by accident. That should keep him from bugging me to leave every ten minutes.

“Ready for this?” I ask Vaughn the question as he fidgets with buttons on the shirt I bought for him to wear today. Having been to Princess Aster’s place before, I know it’s not too formal, but I still wanted us to look nice.

Of course, I kept it black since that seems to be the only color Vaughn owns these days.

“Yeah, yeah. It’ll be fine. But remember, my social meter has a three-hour limit. And then don’t ask me anything for at least six months.”

Laughing, I knock on the door, knowing that what he says won’t matter as soon as this group meets him. When you’re sucked into this web of friends, there’s no escaping.

Not that you’d want to, anyway.

“Hey, Neil. Good to see you again,” Wade greets me.

“You made me wear a button up and this guy has on a turkey apron! Not fair Number One. Not fair.” Vaughn frowns at me while pointing at Wade. The other man laughs good heartedly, then waves for me to come in.

“Ignore my brother, please. He’s still stuck at the age of fifteen or so. Fart jokes are all it takes to make him laugh.”

Wade shakes his head, closing the door behind us. “You need to come meet Doyle then. If there’s something perverse to be found in food, he’s going to mention it. You’ll get along great.”

Vaughn ditches me in favor of the jokes, leaving me standing to look around at the setup for today’s festivities. Princess Aster spared no expense. There are about a million turkey decorations around the room, with a few leaves and pumpkins tossed in to fit the autumn vibes.

I see a few familiar faces, but I mostly keep to myself as I try to avoid running into Oscar, who I immediately spotted when I walked in.

As if he knows I’m thinking about him, he turns to face me. I realize he’s been talking to Shiloh and another man this whole time I’ve been staring at decorations.

Who is that? And why does he look so angry?

“Hey, you! I’m glad you made it out.” Fisher saddles up beside me to give me a hug. “Did Vaughn already slip past me? Or did he decide not to come?”

“Oh, he’s definitely here. He heard Doyle tells perverted food jokes and he couldn’t resist.”

Fisher laughs in understanding. He’s overheard a few conversations with Vaughn since we became friends all those months ago.

“Hey, Neil. I’m glad you and Vaughn made it out today,” Shiloh says as he steps up to the group. Thankfully, he’s alone. I don’t know if I can handle the grumpy plumber today.

“Me too. It was a tossup whether or not he’d come.”

“Not surprised at all by that. Glad it worked in our favor. We’ll have a full table at this rate.”

Princess Aster comes out of the kitchen then, his eyes lighting up when he sees me. “Hey there, Neil. I’m so glad you could make it today. I already met your lovely brother. He’s something else. Doyle and he are cutting potatoes as they discuss some rather sexual uses for vegetables.”

Laughing, I shake my head. “I believe it.”

“Did you get that all handled?” Aster asks Shiloh. The other man looks away, his smile turning down slightly.

“I did not. There’s a lot more there to unpack. I found out an extra detail that makes things… complicated. Though, they seem to have one thing that may bring them together. Only time will tell.”

Shiloh stares at me as he talks to Aster. What the hell does that mean? And how am I involved?

“I see,” Aster replies.

I don’t. It’s on the tip of my tongue to reply. Instead, I stand back to wait out whatever awkwardness is going on between this group. I’m not really one for breaking up squabbles if I don’t know the score of what’s going on. And I have a feeling I don’t have near enough details for all of this.

“Neil, why don’t you come into the kitchen to check out the spread. I need a Vaughn interpreter anyway.” Following behind him, I keep my gaze on his back instead of turning to the two men I can tell are watching me from their spots on the couch. Their gaze is heavy and constricting.

Do they have any idea what their attention does to me? They can’t possibly know. Can they?

In the kitchen, I come to a grinding halt at the sight before me. A long potato is in Vaughn’s hand. He’s stroking it really slowly in exaggerated movements.

“You must treat the potato well and then it will treat you well.” He says the words like he’s translating some ancient text. The group around him is a mix of people, all of which seem amused. One in particular is staring with wide eyes.

“I had no idea that cooking vegetables was such an intense experience. I appreciate you informing us of this today.”

“Anytime, Doyle. I’m always happy to help people realize their potential.”

Vaughn’s declaration has me choking out a laugh. He whips around to look at me, causing me to freeze where I stand. His expression tells me that he didn’t want me to see all of that. Whatever that was.

“Why aren’t you out there preening for your men?”

“What?!” I bite out the words as color rises to my cheeks. “I don’t have any men.”

“That’s not what I -”

“Why don’t we move over to this station to work on the side dish for a minute. Vaughn and Doyle don’t seem to need any more help with the way they are taking care of those potatoes. “Princess Aster steers me toward another area where there’s an assembly line setup of ingredients. A cookbook stands open with the pages pinned back to show the recipe.

“What is this for?” I read the title. Dressing Your Grandma Would Cry Over. “Why would she cry over it?”

“Because it’s so delicious. Haven’t you ever eaten something so amazing that you were brought to tears?” Doyle calls out from behind me. He obviously didn’t get the memo about us being told to separate.

I feel like a small child who got in trouble for arguing with my brother. It’s reminiscent of the reality we lived in some thirty years ago. Vaughn was the antithesis to my state of being. He was the angry to my happy. The dark to my brightness. And because of that we were always ready to go at it when one of us got in a mood.

“I’ve never cried over food,” I reply to Doyle after a moment of thinking it through. “Food is great, but my emotions aren’t tied to it like that.”

“What gets you worked up then? There’s got to be something that ruffles your feathers.”

I stiffen at his teasing. Doyle and I don’t know each other well, but even then, his words strike a chord I hadn’t realized was bendable. There are definitely a few things that ruffle my feathers, as he says, though I have no plan to tell anyone in this room what that is.

They may all be very open-minded people with the way they live their lives, but even so, I can’t risk their judgment. I don’t want that for me, or for either of my brothers. My image as a college professor is one that’s easy enough to keep in place. It’s a protective shield. A mask to hide all the deeper levels within.

When I don’t respond, Vaughn sighs. “Number One is unruffled. I’ve tried to do it my whole life. He’s solid. Like the Great Wall.”

Doyle scrunches his face. “Everyone has a weakness.”

“Yours is sweets,” Princess Aster tells him. “Mine is shiny things. Especially in pink.”

“What’s yours, Vaughn?” My brother smirks at Doyle’s questions, making him look younger and more mischievous.

“Depends on who you ask. I have a few.”

The room goes silent as if they expect him to tell the truth. Of course, I don’t. Vaughn has always been tightlipped about the things he likes best. It’s like he was afraid someone would come along and try to steal it from him. The idea alone is odd since we both grew up with such separate interests.

After a period of silence, Princess Aster realizes Vaughn isn’t going to say his own weaknesses. He turns back to me and the recipe to instruct me on what is what.

“You think you’ve got it under control?” I nod, then wait until he steps away to pour over the words again. It seems simple enough that I shouldn’t have a problem getting it all done.

I’m pouring a can of broth into the mixture when a rumbling voice from behind startles me. “Need any help?”

Without looking, I already know who it is.

The plumber with the bedroom eyes.

Crap!

So much for being unruffled.