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Chapter 28 - Whatever It Takes.
The girls were happy to see that the house was still standing when they returned from their sleepover at Jennifer’s the next day. They waved goodbye to their grandmother, put their overnight stuff in their rooms and then jointly made their way downstairs to find their fathers. They discovered Brian out by the pool, sitting at the patio table as he scowled at his phone.
“Hey, Pops,” Quinne greeted her father, leaning over his shoulder to leave a kiss on a slightly stubbled cheek. “So, how did your dinner plans go last night?”
Brian growled, deep in his throat, but didn’t otherwise answer.
“That sounds ominous,” Qianna commented, taking up a seat next to the older man. “Didn’t Dad like your pasta?”
“Do you have any idea how BAD burnt Alfredo sauce smells?” Justin answered his daughter on Brian’s behalf, appearing as if from out of nowhere, a pile of freshly washed pool towels in his arms. “And the vanilla scented candles didn’t help at all. It took us all night to get the smell out of the house. We ended up eating frozen pizza out here on the patio because neither of us could bear the toxic fumes inside. But at least it was mostly cleared out by the time we went to bed.” Justin deposited the towels in the storage closet that housed all the other pool supplies and then returned to join the rest of them at the table. “It’s comforting to know that at least one thing hasn’t changed in the past decade - Brian STILL can’t cook without risking a visit from the fire department.”
The blond man was chuckling under his breath, blue eyes glittering with amusement as he looked sideways at his grumbling Ex. Brian smiled at him sarcastically, but looked a little ashamed nonetheless. The girls giggled quietly at the two of them. Even when they were pretending to be annoyed by each other, the two men were so obviously still attracted to one another. And QiQi, especially, noted how comfortable her father seemed around the other man. That teasing tone and the little snarky smile had been a rarity, in her experience, with Justin’s past relationships. But now, the way Justin was leaning back in his chair, legs stretched out and one arm draped casually over the back of the next chair while he beamed one of his best grins in Brian’s direction, evidenced just how at ease he felt here. Qianna hadn’t seen him laugh this easily or smile this much with any of his other, many, boyfriends. Justin seemed relaxed and at home here. It made her feel a little sad when she realized that’s what had been lacking in his life for all these years. And it made her even more determined to find a way to make this permanent so her father could live his best, fullest, life.
“It’s not my fault that Ted called in the middle of my preparations with a crisis on the Jenkins account,” Brian protested, looking uncharacteristically sheepish. “I was only gone from the kitchen for, like, ten minutes . . .”
“Make that at least twenty,” Justin corrected him, “judging by the fact that all the cream had boiled off by the time I found the source of the stench and turned the heat off. And, for future reference, Stud, I’d recommend never turning the burner up to ‘high’ when working with cream sauces. That’s just asking for a disaster.”
Brian gave a dismissive little half shrug ending with a full-blown smile aimed Justin’s way. “No biggie. It wasn’t my cooking that caused you to fall in love with me in the first place. I do much better work in the bedroom than in the kitchen, right, Sunshine?”
“I don’t know,” Justin teased him right back, that humor bubbling through and showing in his brilliant smile and the happy crinkles around his eyes. “From what I remember, you work just fine in the kitchen too. And the living room, the office, the hot tub . . .”
Brian broke into a full belly laugh while the girls both protested with a chorus of ‘Ewww’s. This, of course, only made the dads laugh harder. There was such camaraderie between them at that point. Quinne and Qianna shared a conspiratorial look. If only Justin could see himself, he’d know what everyone else already saw; this was where he belonged. If anything, the sight of the two men laughing together made the girls more determined than ever to find a way to keep their family together.
“So how was your night with your grandmother?” Justin asked, trying to get the conversation back on to a more ‘PG’ track.
“It was great!” Quinne enthusiastically replied. “I LOVE Jenn. She’s so sweet. We went to the Japanese Gardens and saw the Manga exhibit and then had tea at the formal tea house. Then we went back to her condo and she made the most delicious dinner. And, after dinner, she started teaching me how to knit. I’m going to make this really cool pashmina - we’re getting together on Wednesday to go to the knitting store so I can pick out the wool I want to use. It was really fun. She’s, like, a real grandma, you know? Like, how you see grandmothers on TV. I mean, I love Grandma Deb, and all, but she’s not exactly your typical grandmotherly type.”
“Not unless your grandmother is a foul-mouthed, LGBT activist, with a penchant for overly bright colors and an obsession with the Shopping Network,” Brian expanded on that thought. “Nope. Jenn is much more the Norman Rockwell type of granny.” They all chuckled at the truth in that statement. “Yeah, she’s a much more refined type. And it’ll probably do you good to hang out with her sometimes, Spark. She’ll teach you which fork to use in polite company and all that other shit that the rest of us have no clue about.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve had my fill of etiquette lessons,” Qianna volunteered her own point of view. “I’ll trade you for Grandma Debbie. She’s flippin’ hilarious! She cracks me up every damn time I see her.”
They all spent the next few minutes comparing grandmother stories, laughing at the disparity between the two women while also cherishing the similarities. In the middle of this discussion, Gus arrived and joined them, adding his own perspective from growing up in the crazy Liberty Avenue family full of colorful characters and detailing how it had formed his world view. Even Justin chimed in with some stories about what it had been like when he’d temporarily lived with Debbie back during his senior year of high school - stories that his daughter had never heard before. The more they spoke, though, the more Qianna felt how cheated she’d been, having been separated from this family. And there was absolutely no way in the world that she was going to give this up now that she’d found her way here.
Eventually the conversation turned towards the final preparations needed for Gus’ big birthday bash, which was planned for that Saturday night. It sounded like Emmett and Debbie had everything pretty much in hand, although there were a few last minute details still to take care of. The girls learned for the first time that the party was supposed to take place at Brian’s club, Babylon, and that they’d all be allowed to stay for at least a little time after the club opened for real. That got a huge round of excited approving squeals from the kids, even though Brian earned a critical glare from the other father.
In the midst of the party planing Qianna got a text which diverted her attention for a moment. “Awwww! Poor Winston. He looks miserable! Tell me again why we had to leave him with Mrs. Crieghton instead of bringing him with us?” Qianna held up her phone, displaying a picture of a very unhappy cat.
“Because it’s not worth dragging the poor cat all the way across the country for a mere two weeks,” Justin explained, shaking his head at the woebegone look his daughter was aiming his way. “I know you miss him - especially after being away from your cat for the whole summer - but you won’t have to wait long to be reunited, Honey. We’ll be home in less than a week. In fact, I was going to make our plane reservations later today.”
That statement pretty much killed the mood for everyone sitting around the patio table. They all fell silent, even Justin, who belatedly realized that he’d stuck his foot in it. But a minute later, he huffed a determined woof of air and got to his feet with a stubborn set to his shoulders.
“Well, I’m going to get dressed. I’ve got a conference call in an hour with my lawyer about evicting Alex out of the San Jose house. If you’ll excuse me,” Justin stated and then quietly walked away, back through the patio doors.
“Shit!” Qianna grumbled as she slumped back into her chair.
“Shit is right.” Quinne reached out a consoling hand to give her sister’s shoulder a squeeze. “We’re running out of time!”
“What am I going to do?” Qianna asked with a hopeless frown. “Do you think if I just locked myself in my room and refused to go, he’d eventually give in? Or maybe Em would hide me until Dad leaves? I don’t want to go back to California. I want to stay here with all of you. I’ve already missed out on twelve years of family and, now that I’ve found you, I refuse to give you all up.”
Quinne turned to Brian with a pleading look. “You have to DO something, Pops! Now! Before it’s too late!”
Brian sighed. “What do you want me to do? I’ve been trying. I fucking burned pasta for him last night, for whatever good that did, but he’s being his usual stubborn, bratty self, of course. At this point, about all I got left is maybe tying him up in the basement.”
“Do you think that would work?” Qianna asked, perking up enough to sit straighter in her chair again, apparently all in on forcibly detaining her father until the Stockholm Syndrome kicked in.
Everyone else laughed at the desperate girl, causing QiQi to blush.
“Sorry, kiddo, but bondage was never Justin’s kink,” Brian replied, tongue-in-cheek.
His son rolled his eyes and swatted his father with the back of one hand. “Get serious, Pops.” Brian pretended to rub at his arm as if Gus had truly injured him. “I’m with the girls here. We need to do something MAJOR and we need to do it now. We’ve got less than a week to convince Justin that he wants to stick around Pittsburgh. So what else have you got besides burning his meals?”
“I don’t know . . .” Brian looked lost.
“Well, you managed to talk him into marrying you once. How’d you do it back then? Maybe that would work again?” Quinne prompted.
“It’s not that easy. With Justin, it’s never that easy . . .” Brian rubbed at his forehead as if his thoughts were hurting him. “The first time I asked him, he turned me down, despite the fact that I’d just broken my lifelong vow to never admit I needed anyone AND had announced I loved him. It wasn’t until I bought him a mansion fit for a prince that I managed to convince him I was serious.” Brian waved his arm outward to indicate that the mansion he was referring to was Britin. “But even then he backed out before I got him down the fucking aisle. The stupid twat got a bug up his ass - put there by your interfering mother, I might add, Sonny Boy - that he needed to go to New York and become a famous painter. Thank fuck that plan only lasted a few weeks. Of course it helped that he hated New York as soon as he got there and realized he couldn’t afford even a closet - let alone studio space - on what he was making as a waiter while he waited for his ‘big break’. By the time I called and asked him to come back and give us another go, he’d already been softened up. It was still like pulling teeth though. When that boy has his mind set on something . . .”
“So, basically, you tried romance, bribing him, and eventually had to resort to begging before he agreed to marry you?” Quinne summarized Brian’s more neutrally-worded explanation.
“I wouldn’t say I begged. I just . . . I had to wear him down,” Brian argued, trying to put a more forceful spin on things.
“Well, we don’t have TIME to wait while you ‘wear him down,” Quinne argued, using air quotes to denote that she still didn’t completely believe Brian’s version of events. “And your attempt at romance last night was a total bust. Which leaves only bribery. Got another house up your sleeve, Pops?”
“Sorry.” He shook his head with a sad smile. “I doubt that would work this time, though. Sunshine’s come a long way in the last ten years. His bank book could probably give mine a run for its money these days,” Brian confessed.
“For what it’s worth, I say you should go for the ‘shock and awe’ approach, Pops,” Gus spoke up, voicing his opinion. “Justin’s an artist. By definition, we artists are more driven by our emotions. So if you want to win Justin over, you have to do something to affect him emotionally,” the wise young man continued to elaborate. “You can’t approach this calmly and logically and hope to talk him into loving you again. You can’t just SAY you love him and want him to stay, because he’ll discount that. He’ll see that as empty words with no weight to them. I mean, you’ve always told us that actions speak louder than words, right, Pops? So follow your own advice here. I say, throw caution to the wind and sweep him off his feet. Don’t just romance him; romance the fuck out of him.”
Brian appeared to contemplate his son’s advice for a second or two before commenting. “Actually . . . that’s not a bad idea, Sonny Boy. You’re right that we don’t have time to fuck around. And the kid always was a total drama queen. So, the grand gesture . . . Hmmm . . . Yeah, that just might work.” Brian was nodding his head, his hazel eyes glinting with passionate green sparks of mischief as he leaned towards his eager minions. “Okay, if we’re going to go ‘full media blitz’, though, I’m going to need all of your help. And I might have to horn in a bit on your birthday party spotlight, if that’s okay?”
“Whatever it takes, Pops,” Gus readily agreed.
“Thanks, Sonny Boy. Now, if this is gonna work,” Brian looked at his watch and cringed a little, “we’ve only got a little over thirty-eight hours to get our shit together. You better grab your tablet, Q, and conference Emmy Lou in, cuz we’ll need his help too.” Quinne pulled her tablet out and started tapping frantically at the screen. “Gus, go close the patio doors; we don’t want the object of our machinations sneaking up on us and overhearing the plan.” Gus darted to follow directions, pulling the big glass sliders closed. “QiQi, have you still got Daphne’s number handy?” Qianna nodded. “Great! Text her and see if she’s willing to help on the Justin end of things - that girl was always up for some good trouble, so I bet she’ll be thrilled to get involved.” Qianna started typing away at her phone with a huge smile on her face. “Alright team, here’s what we’re going to do . . .”
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“You’re not going to wear THAT, are you?” Qianna looked at her Dad, dressed in some shapeless casual pullover and a pair of faded old jeans, with horror. “You look like you’re getting ready to clean the garage, not go to a party.”
Justin rolled his eyes and tutted at his daughter. “We’re going to a birthday party for Gus. It’s not like it’s a black tie affair, Sweetheart.”
“Yeah, but it’s his EIGHTEENTH birthday - that’s a big deal - and it’s at a nightclub, not out in Deb’s back yard. If you dress like that you’re going to feel underdressed and out of place all night long,” she insisted. “Here, let me help you find something more . . . well, just more.” She rifled through the clothes hanging in Justin’s closet, increasingly disdainful of the options she found there. “Didn’t you pack ANYTHING even remotely hot? Sheesh, Dad. Looking at this closet, you’d think you were seventy, not a hot, single, thirty-something. You’re never gonna find a replacement for The Yeti like this.”
“QiQi . . .” Justin started to correct his daughter but she wasn’t listening.
“Nevermind. Just wait here!” the girl ordered and then rushed out of the room, returning in less than two minutes, burdened by a shopping bag from a local menswear store. “There you go. I found this when we were out shopping with Grandma Jenn yesterday. I was going to give it to you as a Christmas present, but you need it now.” As she spoke, she crossed her fingers behind her back, hoping that her lie wouldn’t be held against her when her father eventually found out that Brian had been the one to purchase the outfit as part of his big plan.
Justin opened the neck of the bag and pulled out the item inside. It was a gorgeous, sapphire blue satin, button down shirt. The color was a nearly perfect match for the blue of Justin’s eyes and the slightly shiny fabric looked almost liquid as the light played over it. The man let himself admire the shirt for a moment, his fingers obviously enjoying the touch of the cool silk. But then he shook his head and tried to hand it back to his daughter.
“I can’t take this, Sweetie. It had to have cost a fortune. It’s Hugo Boss. How did you afford this anyway?”
“Well, I got a little help,” Qianna confessed without saying exactly who had ‘helped’ buy it. “But that doesn’t matter. You have to wear it. You’ll look beautiful in it. Go on. At least try it on and make sure it fits.”
“I really shouldn’t,” Justin protested again, although his complaint was decidedly weaker this time around.
“Here - it’ll go great with these dark blue dress slacks.” She pulled a pair of Justin’s pants out of the closet. “Put it on and I’ll be right back to see the final effect,” Qianna demanded, not giving her dad time to object again before she skipped out of the room, pulling the door closed behind her.
She was still hovering a few feet down the hall, hoping that this ploy had worked, when her sister came out of Brian’s room to join her. “Did he buy it?” Quinne asked.
“Not sure yet. I think so. I could see how much he wanted to believe, though - the shirt IS gorgeous and I’m pretty sure he’ll cave,” Qianna responded.
“Let’s hope so. Pops is already dressed and he looks hot - and I say that as his daughter, so I’m biased, but he really does look amazing. If I were a gay man, I’d fall for him in a heartbeat. And the two of them will look so adorable together with Pops wearing the same shirt only in a darker color. You know, Emmett should hire me to help him with his wedding planning business - I’m really, really good at this stuff,” Quinne bragged.
“Well, Dad’s had enough time to work himself up to trying on your selection. Let’s go see if it worked,” Qianna suggested as she knocked on the door.
“Come in.”
The girls entered together, to find that, so far, their plans were going just as hoped. Justin was dressed in the beautiful shirt and the matching trousers and looked simply magnificent. The blue was indeed an almost exact match for his eyes and the gem-toned silk played off against his creamy-pale skin to perfection. The halo of his white blond hair topped it all off. And when he smiled at the girls’ look of admiration, he looked a decade younger,
“Damn, Justin! You look delicious! If you weren’t my sorta-dad, I’d want to eat you up!” Quinne declared with a dreamy gaze.
“I’ll second that!” Gus added, sticking his head in through the doorway to admire Justin’s finery. “Damn, Jus, are you trying to upstage me at my own birthday party?”
“Shit! You’re right, Gus. I should change,” Justin apologized, immediately beginning to unbutton the shirt.
“Stop, Justin! I was KIDDING!” Gus hurried to explain. “Don’t you dare change. You have to wear that. It’s perfect for you.”
“But you’re right, I don’t need to hog the limelight or anything.”
“Bullshit. Hog away. I’m not that insecure that I can’t share my night with my gorgeous step-dad,” Gus maintained. “Seriously, Justin, if you DON’T wear that outfit I’ll be genuinely annoyed at you, so just get over yourself already.” Then the birthday boy, who was dangerously handsome in his own right, looked at his sisters and tipped his head in the direction of the stairs at the end of the hallway. “You two ready to go? Emmett texted a minute ago and asked me to stop by and pick up something he forgot on the way, so we need to leave now.”
“Just let me grab my dress. We were going to change and do our hair at Em’s anyway, so we might as well get going,” Qianna announced already halfway out the door before Justin stopped her.
Hey, wait! I thought you were riding into town with me,” he questioned his daughter.
“Sorry, Dad, I promised to help Em with the final party prep. You’ll have to drive yourself. Oh, and don’t forget, you’re picking up Daphne too.”
She turned back long enough to give her father a peck on the cheek and then was gone again in a swirl of tween activity. Quinne copied her sister’s actions, leaving a kiss on Justin’s other cheek and then trotting off in Qianna’s wake. Justin was still just standing there, looking a little abandoned, as the two girls disappeared down the hall.
“Don’t be late, Jus,” Gus warned and then placidly followed after the giggling and whispering girls. “I hope this works,” the boy muttered to himself as he made his own way down the stairs.
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