Rhythm of Three (Rule of Three) (14 page)

But it was necessary bullshit. And he’d survive.

They sat down to eat. Kassidy had prepared beef bourguignon—delicious, tender pieces of beef in a rich wine sauce—served with fantastic little new potatoes.

“This is great, Kassidy,” Mr. Manness said approvingly.

“Awesome,” Dag agreed.

Kassidy met his eyes. “I know you like beef,” she said.

Uh-huh. Did she make this for him? Damn. He liked that.

“What kind of wine did you use?” Mrs. Manness asked.

The dinner chitchat went on and on, and then Kassidy served dessert—cheesecake with fresh berries on top.

“I bought the cheesecake,” she said apologetically as she served up pieces. “But it’s from an awesome little bakery near here. And the berries are fresh local ones. I love the summer produce.”

“It’s great, sweetheart,” Chris said. “But, God, I’m full.”

When dessert was done, they lingered at the table with the last of the wine. Dag was feeling a helluva lot more relaxed, and he leaned back in his chair and turned the stem of his wineglass between his fingers. Yeah, he was gonna get through this.

“So, Mom and Dad,” Chris said, “there’s something we need to talk about before you go home tomorrow.”

Chapter Ten

Chris’s guts had churned all day as he’d tried to decide if he was going to do this. He’d changed his mind a dozen times. But walking in and seeing Dag there and not being able to greet him properly after being apart nearly a week had strengthened his resolve. He knew the chances were good that his parents weren’t going to support him, but he couldn’t live like this. They needed to know the truth.

It wasn’t fair to Dag either. Chris wanted to acknowledge his feelings for him, not be ashamed of them. Dag deserved that. Everybody deserved that. Loving someone was never wrong, no matter who they were.

A few glasses of wine helped too. And when there was a lull in the conversation after dinner, he said the words.

“You need to know about my relationship with Dag and Kassidy,” he began, not really sure what he was going to say, hoping he could find the right words. “Dag’s been staying with us since he came back to Chicago because…” he looked at Dag, then back at his parents, “…he and I are in love.”

The air in the room changed, became charged and electric.

He turned his gaze to his mom, who stared at him with wide eyes, then his dad, whose eyebrows had drawn down over narrowed eyes. Dad gave his head a shake. “What?”

“I’m in love with Dag. And with Kassidy. We’re living in a polyamorous relationship. A committed relationship. They love each other too.”

Mom touched her fingers to her throat as if clutching invisible pearls. “Chris…” Blinking rapidly, she glanced at Dad. “Hub…”

“Poly what?”

“Polyamorous. We all love each other.”

Dad’s face turned red. Then nearly purple. “Good Christ,” he said. “What are you talking about? Have you lost your mind?”

Chris’s mouth tightened. “No. I haven’t. Look, I know this is hard to understand. Believe me, it took a lot for me to get it too.”

“So you’re telling us you’re a faggot,” Dad said.

Dag’s chair hit the floor with a bang that made everyone at the table jump. He stood, strode around the table and grabbed Dad’s shirt in a fist. “Watch what you say,” he growled. “For one thing, he’s your son. For another, he’s the man I love.”

“Get your filthy hands off me!” Dad shoved Dag away, pushing his own chair back. They stood and faced each other, glaring. Dag’s hands curled into fists, but slowly lowered to his sides.

“Jesus,” Dad said. “This is unbelievable. I can’t even…” He shook his head. He looked at Kassidy. “And I thought you were such a nice girl. How can you…”

“I said, watch what you say.” Dag stepped closer, the threat clear in his movements. Dad’s hands came up. “Swear to God, if you insult her in any way, I will fuck you up. This is our home. You don’t get to insult either of them. You listen. You may not understand. You may not agree. But you don’t get to insult them.”

Chris took in the set of Dag’s jaw, the flash in his eyes, the color on his cheekbones. He was ready to blow. “Dag—” Chris began.

“I mean it,” Dag snarled.

Dad’s hands now curled into fists too, and Chris remembered the time his dad found him fooling around with his friend Cam. How he’d used those fists on him. Now, he and Dag stood off, waves of anger filling the room. Christ, were they actually going to get in a physical fight? Dad would be stupid to tangle with Dag, but if that happened Chris would have no hesitation about stepping in. He wasn’t a kid anymore.

“I’m not listening to this,” Dad snapped. “And I’m sure as hell not staying here with this…going on.”

“I’m going to a hotel tonight,” Dag snapped at him. “Relax.”

“No you’re not,” Chris said. “You’re staying here with us. This is your home.”

“Chris—”

“Dag.” Chris met his eyes and gave him an equally heated glare. “I’m serious. I want this out in the open.”

Dad looked around the room, face still livid, mouth opening and closing. “I’m leaving.”

Mom stood too. “Hub—”

“Going for a walk,” he snapped. And he slammed out of the condo.

Mom slowly sat down again. Her face, in contrast to Dad’s, had gone pale. She set trembling hands on the table and looked at Chris. “Chris. I don’t understand this.”

“I know, Mom.”

Dag picked up the chair he’d knocked over and stood behind it, gripping the back.

“Are you…gay?” she whispered.

“Does it matter, Mom?”

She didn’t answer that for a long moment, gazing at him with a cloudy expression. She looked down at the table, glanced at Kassidy, sent Dag an almost-fearful look, then swallowed. “I think it does matter,” she said finally. “If you’re not gay…maybe you just got mixed up in something you shouldn’t have. You can’t love two people. You and Kassidy—”

“I
can
love two people, Mom,” Chris said quietly. “I do. There isn’t a finite amount of love.”

“But…he’s a man.” She again glanced at Dag.

“Yep, I am,” Dag said shortly. “And I’m right here.”

Mom’s mouth tightened. “I think this is your fault, Dag.”

Dag’s jaw clenched again. “Okay, I’ll take the blame, sure.”

“There’s no blame,” Chris said. “It’s nobody’s fault, Mom. It just is.”

“I can’t…I just can’t…”

“You maybe need some time to process this,” Chris said. He looked at Kassidy, who hadn’t said a word, sitting at the table, watching this with a wide-eyed look of stunned disbelief. “I understand that. You and Dad can go home and think about it. I wanted you to know the truth because, honestly, it really sucked to come home tonight and see Dag and not be honest about who he is to me, and to Kassidy.”

“We were okay with you and Kassidy living together without being married,” she said, “because we thought one day you would get married. But this…this is just wrong.”

Chris closed his eyes at the wave of sadness that washed over him. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Mom. We know it’s unusual, but we found each other and we care about each other. I don’t think it’s wrong to love someone. Or more than one someone.”

“I-I don’t… I’m going to go…to our room. Your father…”

“He’ll come back,” Chris said. “Probably better he cools down away from us.”

Mom got up from the table and walked out, shaking her head.

Thick silence again filled the room. Then Dag snapped, “What the fuck, man?”

Chris looked at him, saw the anger still sparking in his eyes. “I had to tell them.”

“Now? Jesus Christ!”

“Yeah, now! What the hell?”

Dag closed his eyes and shook his head. “Fuck me. I almost hit your dad.”

“He deserved it.”

Dag put a hand to his forehead, rubbing his eyebrows. “I am so fucking pissed right now…I gotta get out of here too.”

Chris’s jaw went slack as Dag, too, walked out of the condo.

His gaze went to Kassidy. She sat there, her hand flat on her chest, eyes wide, lips parted. She turned from watching Dag leave and their eyes met. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “What just happened?”

“Shit,” Chris muttered. He rubbed the back of his neck.

“He took his stuff,” Kassidy said.

Chris blinked. “What?”

“Dag. He took his suitcase. It was by the door.”

Chris frowned. “What are you saying?”

She swallowed, her bottom lip quivering. “He left.”

“He’ll come back.”

Her eyes went shiny. “What if he doesn’t? What are we doing, Chris?”

“What do you mean, sweetheart?”

She pressed her lips together and dropped her eyes. “This is causing so many problems.”

“No. I mean, it is. But we knew that. It’s worth it.”

“Is it?” She lifted her eyes again, tears glimmering there. “Is it worth it? Your parents hate me now. They hate Dag. They’re mad at you. They’re your family.”

“
You’re
my family,” he said roughly. “You and Dag.”

Her lower lip pushed out and a tear slid down her cheek. “Oh, Chris.”

“C’mere, baby.” He pushed his chair back from the table and held his arms out. But Kassidy didn’t come to him.

She stood, fingertips resting on the table. “I’m not sure anymore if we’re doing the right thing.”

“What?” He gaped at her, and then he was alone in the dining room as she, too, walked out.

For a moment he was numb. His head went empty. Then he felt a burning sensation, like a knife turning in his chest, and the burn spread out from there, through his whole body. His muscles went rigid and a fist squeezed at his throat. What the fuck had just happened?

Kassidy sat on the side of the bed. Everything inside her ached. She pressed her fingers to her burning eyes.

Great. Just effing great.

She didn’t know what to think. She didn’t know what to do. She just sat there hurting.

What if Dag didn’t come back? What if he wasn’t sure either if they were doing the right thing?

Was Chris really willing to continue with this if his parents hated both her and Dag?

Dag was pissed. Chris’s parents were pissed. She was pissed at them too, truth be told. They’d known his parents weren’t going to jump up and down with excitement over the fact that their son loved another man and was in a polyamorous relationship, but, even so, their reaction hurt.

She sucked in a breath and lowered her hands to the side of the bed. Drained of energy, her body heavy, she gave the covers a tug and slid beneath them, curled into a ball, still dressed in shorts and cami. Whatever.

She waited for Chris to come in.

But he didn’t come.

She awoke in the morning with gritty eyes and stiff muscles. She stretched her legs out and turned her head. Chris slept beside her. He must have come to bed after she fell asleep.

Dag wasn’t there.

Had Hub come back after his walk? Had he talked to Chris?

She bit her lip, then slid out of bed to use the bathroom.

God, she hadn’t washed her face before she’d fallen asleep and mascara was smudged beneath her eyes. Her puffy eyes. She grimaced at her reflection as she brushed her teeth, then stripped off her wrinkled clothes and stepped into the shower.

Chris slept on when she emerged.

She dressed in yoga pants and a tank top and quietly left the bedroom. The condo was quiet, the door to the guest room closed. She passed on the TASSIMO and started a big pot of coffee, then sighed as she took in the mess in the kitchen. Shit. After the big scene last night, nobody had bothered to clean up.

Luckily she’d put away leftovers between dinner and dessert, and some of the dishes had been loaded into the dishwasher, but dessert plates, forks and wineglasses still sat on the dining room table.

She cleared the table, noted the number of empty beer bottles sitting on the counter. Looked like Chris had had a few by himself. Unless he and his dad had sat down and had a heart-to-heart over beers.

Not likely.

By the time the coffee was ready she had the kitchen cleaned up. She poured herself a cup and wandered into the living room to look out the window. Rain drizzled down from a pale-gray sky, weighing down the branches of the maple trees, dripping from the leaves, running down the big window. She leaned her forehead against the cool glass.

Kathy and Hubbard’s flight left at noon. It was nearly eight thirty. Should she wake them and Chris? They’d need to leave for the airport soon. Ugh. First, she’d deal with Chris.

Back in the bedroom, she set down her coffee and sat on the bed, leaning toward Chris. She gave his shoulder a nudge. “Chris? Honey?”

He stirred and rolled toward her. “Wha…?”

“Do you need to take your parents to the airport? It’s eight thirty.”

He blinked at her, eyes unfocused. Then he sighed. “No. They left last night.”