Bankers' Hours (21 page)

The waitress brought our drinks, and Jessica unwrapped her straw. “I know, Grant. I didn’t mean to offend you. I guess I’m shocked, is all. He seemed straight, and doesn’t he have a daughter? I thought she came in with him before.” Jessica sipped her soda and listened.

“He does. She’s fifteen. It happened back when he was still figuring himself out. The baby momma is kind of mean, so I’m glad he never married her.” I hadn’t seen Claire in the bank, but that didn’t mean Tristan hadn’t brought her with him before I started working there.

“Baby momma?” she repeated and then started laughing.

“I know, that came out wrong. I’m not sure what else to call her. She’s not very nice.” The waitress brought some chips and salsa for us to munch. “Thank you,” I said.

Jessica dipped a chip and asked, “You’ve met her?”

“Yeah. Last Saturday morning she showed up at Tristan’s while I was still in my underwear. Talk about embarrassing.”

Her jaw dropped. “Whoa. You spent the night? How long have you known him?”

“Four weeks on Friday. But it’s not what you think; we didn’t have sex.” I don’t know why I felt the need to clarify. It wasn’t as if I was a minor or anything. I was an adult. Tristan was an adult. What we did together as consenting adults was no one’s business but ours, even if we’d only known each other four weeks. Yet even if I didn’t need to spill details, I kept going and said, “In fact, we’re getting married Saturday.”

Her chin nearly hit the table this time. “What? That’s incredible. I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true. I know it’s fast, but part of the reason has to do with the baby momma and her insinuation that all gay men hump like rabbits and never commit. I got pissed. And Tristan’s visitation agreement was challenged. It was a whole big ordeal. In short, we’re getting married, and he plans to file for full custody. Claire’s mother apparently drinks often and has revolving affairs. She accused Tristan of the same thing and said she’d never let Claire come over if he brought guys home.”

Jessica reasoned, “And it won’t happen if you’re married.”

“No. It will be me and Tristan.”

She patted the back of my hand and corrected, “You and Tristan, the two gay dads.”

I sat back, realizing she was right. Not only was I jumping into marrying a guy I hardly knew, I was agreeing to be a stepdad… of a teenager. “Oh, shit. I’ll be a stepdad.”

“Sorry, Grant, but I think this is moving too quickly. You two may have had noble reasons, but getting married is huge for most people. Getting married with older children is colossal.”

The food came, thank God. I needed to eat and think. Jessica was kind enough to let me eat in peace, but after my last bite, before the check arrived, she asked more questions. “Where are you getting married on Saturday? Is it a church wedding? I know receptions can be expensive, but do you think I could watch the ceremony? I really do consider you a friend.”

“Um, yeah, but we haven’t planned anything. It was very sudden, and we were just going to ask the clerk on staff to perform a civil ceremony on Saturday since we both have it off. This Saturday is Tristan’s weekend with his daughter anyway. She wanted to be there. Claire wants to plan a spring wedding. We thought we’d invite all our friends and family to that one.”

“Oh? I didn’t think county offices were open on Saturdays.”

“What?” I didn’t want to believe her. I took out my phone and googled the Carroll County Circuit Court. “Oh my gosh, you’re right. It says appointments preferred, but they’re only open Monday through Friday. I’d better call.”

“You should,” she agreed.

We paid the check, and I returned to work. Outside, before I walked back in, I told Jessica, “Thanks for not getting upset with me. This has been a crazy couple of days.”

“Sounds like it.”

I sighed. “I know I’m going to take heat for this, especially when I show up at work with a ring on my finger, but can you do me a favor?”

“Sure. Anything.”

“Don’t tell people we’ve only known each other a few weeks, please? No one needs to know how sudden this was.”

Jessica took my hand and squeezed it. “Your secret is safe with me. I hope everything works out.”

“Me too.”

I STOPPED
by Tristan’s auto shop on my way home. I’d called the circuit court after work, five minutes before they closed, and found out they only had two options open this week. I had to tell Tristan I’d picked a time and I hoped he’d be okay with it.

I parked in front of the door marked “office.” A younger guy, probably close to my age, made eye contact and asked, “May I help you?” I liked that he asked “may I” instead of “can I.”

I said, “Hi. I wanted to know if Tristan was around. I need to talk to him.”

The guy came up to the counter and said, “Okay, I’ll go find him. May I get your name?”

“Um, my name’s Grant.” It seemed so formal, and I felt stupid for no reason, but then his face lit up.

“Oh! You’re Grant. Tristan told us about you. Have you gone home yet?”

“What?” I asked, confused by the non sequitur. “No, why? I stopped here on my way home.”

He smiled. “No reason. My name’s Wes, by the way. I run the office and order parts and stuff.” He held out his hand.

Suddenly I felt so much better. I smiled and shook his hand. “Hi. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. I’ll go get Tristan.” He headed for the door that led into the garage, but stopped at the door. “I’m glad to finally meet you. I’ve never seen Tristan so happy.”

He left and walked up to another guy I could see through a large glass window that allowed people in the office to see into the shop. Maybe it was called a hangar, like for planes. I didn’t know, but I rationalized calling it that in my head. The space in there looked big from where I stood. When Wes turned and pointed at me and then walked on, the other guy came into the office.

He held out his hand to me. “Hey, I’m Jeff. I’ve worked for Tristan the past ten years, and five years for his father before that. Tristan’s a good guy. I’m happy for you both. Let me tell you, Tristan can be a little rough around the edges, but he’s got a good heart.”

“Yeah, I kinda figured that one out.”

“Have you gone home yet?” Jeff asked.

It felt odd. Why would he ask me that, especially after Wes had done the same? “Um, no,” I said. “Why?”

He shrugged. “No reason. Tristan said you lived close.”

“Oh, yeah, I do. It’s like five minutes.”

“Convenient,” he commented, nodding his head in that way people do when they can’t think of anything interesting to say. Was he always like this, or did I make him nervous? And if he was nervous, I wanted to know why—because I didn’t tend to make people nervous.

“Yeah,” I agreed, nodding back in the same uncomfortable manner.

Tristan came through the door and smiled at me right away. “Hey, baby. I didn’t expect to see you until later. Have you been home yet?”

“No. Why does everyone keep asking me that?” I asked, slightly irritated. I couldn’t dwell on the weirdness. I needed to get to my point for showing up at his work. “Look, Tristan, can I talk to you? Privately?”

He glanced at the guys, and they left the room, closing the door. Tristan lifted the part of the counter that was attached with hinges and folded it over so he could cross to my side. He pulled me to him and hugged me. I felt his lips on my neck, and he nuzzled my ear. “It’s so nice to see you. I’ve missed you. I’ve been obsessing over last night and hoped you weren’t mad with me.”

He released me, and I looked him in the eyes. He had such lovely eyes. “No. I’m not mad. You were right about me being scared, but I have to admit I liked most of it. I want you to ravage me like that again, only with less teeth.”

He grinned. “I can do that.”

“I also like the idea of ice cubes.” I blushed and looked away, but I couldn’t not look at him—no matter how embarrassed I was to admit it—so I brought my gaze back up before he could do it for me.

“I’ll see what I can do later.” He kissed me softly several times, but it progressed quickly. In moments, he kissed me deeply and moved one hand up to the back of my head so he could keep me there.

I had my arms around his neck, and I can’t say I minded his relentless tongue, but we were in his office—the office with a huge glass window. As soon as he reached down and cupped my ass with his other hand, I jumped.

He apologized, “I’m sorry. You’re hard to resist. I want you so bad.”

“It’s okay. I think it’s the large window that’s making me skittish.” I pointed. He turned to look with me at the three guys on the other side, laughing and making obscene gestures and kissy-faces and touching themselves in ways that made me blush again.

I hid my face against his chest as Tristan laughed and waved them away, encircling my waist with one arm and refusing to let me go even though we were being watched.

“Who’s that other guy?”

“Will, my other mechanic. Will, Jeff, and I do the labor, while Wes takes care of the office. We’ve all worked together a long time. I went to school with Jeff. Will and Jeff met at a hockey game, and Jeff suggested I give him a job because he was looking for work. He’s been here six years.”

“And Wes?”

“Four years. But he fit in so well with our group that I can’t fathom a time when he wasn’t here. He’s like the glue that keeps everything together.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It is, but meeting my guys is not why you came by.”

“No.”

“Then tell me. Everything’s okay, isn’t it?”

“Yes and no.” He narrowed his eyes but waited for me to explain. “I called the circuit court because my friend Jessica from work said she thought they were closed on Saturday. Turns out they are. Appointments are encouraged, because they can be busy, I guess, so I asked about getting married and they had two times slots available. Tomorrow at eight thirty, or Friday at eleven.”

Tristan opened his mouth to answer and then promptly shut it. He stared at me a moment. The information must have thrown him. He finally said, “I, um, wow. I’m rebuilding a transmission on Friday, and it’s going to take all day. I don’t know how I can slip out in the middle.”

“Which is why I booked eight thirty tomorrow morning. I hope that’s okay.”

Tristan let go of my waist and stepped back. “Um, yeah.” He leaned on the counter behind him and rubbed his head. “Tomorrow,” he reiterated. “We’re getting married tomorrow.”

I nodded. “Yup. Unless… unless you want to call it off and plan something in the spring.”

“I don’t know.”

Just then, the main door to the office opened behind me. I turned, expecting to see some guy or other coming in for an oil change or something, and nearly choked on my own saliva when it was Teresa, the baby momma. I gasped.

She sneered, “Oh, jeez. I didn’t expect
you
to be here.” She gave me a look of disdain and then turned her wrath on Tristan.

“I’ll have you know, my daughter will not be coming to your house on Saturday if it’s only to see two fags get hitched so they can justify their immorality.”

“Ha!” I yipped in protest. Tristan held up his hand in my direction, so I kept my diatribe to myself.

“Then it’s a good thing we decided to get married tomorrow,” he responded without hesitation.

“What?” she asked, her surprise evident.

“Yeah,” he said. “Grant and I talked it over, and we decided not to wait. Our love is so strong and immovable that we couldn’t stand another moment apart.”

I swallowed hard, struggling against my mounting anxiety.

“Oh, that’s disgusting. I can’t believe a court would allow it.” She visibly shivered.

No matter how scared I was about jumping in to marry Tristan, Teresa always seemed to push me toward it because of how angry she made me by protesting the very rights I had as an American citizen. I pulled back my shoulders and stepped to Tristan’s side, facing her as a team. “It is not disgusting,” I huffed. “What we choose to do with our lives is none of your business.”

“Oh, I think it is. You do this, Tristan, and you’ll never see Claire again.”

He made a guttural sound, like a growl, and stepped into her personal space. “No, you don’t get to alter your protest. Last time, you said you wouldn’t allow her over if I was just some bed-hopping homo who had a different man in my house every weekend. I’m not. I’m marrying Grant, and then I’m filing for full custody of Claire. Now take your homophobic, man-hating ass out of my shop.”

From the expression on her face I thought she’d scream, but all she did was turn sharply and slam the door behind her after mumbling, “You’ll regret this.”

I muttered, “Then I guess we’re getting married tomorrow.”

He turned and placed his hands on my shoulders. “I’m sorry, Grant. I couldn’t let her win.”

I gave him an understanding half smile. “Which is why I blurted the very same thing Saturday. I get it. We’re getting married. We’ll make it work.”

“Will we?” He didn’t seem as sure as a second ago.

I nodded. “No matter how freaked out I am about the timing and the gravity of everything, I do care about you. I want a relationship with you. I want to wake up spooning every morning and make pancakes on the weekends. I want you to lick my nipples and make me beg you to make love to me every night.”

He widened his eyes. “Every night?”

I took in a deep breath and exhaled. “Probably. Sex is supposed to be awesome, right? I’m guessing I’ll want it a lot once I know what I’ve been missing.”

He chuckled and pulled me into a hug, rubbing my back and squeezing me before letting go. “Gosh, I hope so. I care about you too. Why don’t you go home, get a shower, have some dinner, and relax, and we’ll talk about everything when I get there later. I need to finish a job I promised for a guy who’s going on vacation tomorrow. I’ll be by your place by nine. I promise.”

“Okay. Tell your employees it was nice to meet them.”

“I will. You have no idea how excited they were that you dropped by. Wes was jabbering incoherently about how fucking cute you are.”

“If he was incoherent, then how could you tell he thought I was cute?” I pointed out.