Perfect Imperfections

“Thanks.” Jeremy plopped into a chair across from hers and stretched his legs in front of him.

Harold was following behind them, so he was the last to enter the room.

“Oh, how rude of me,” Paula said, her eyes going wide. “I forgot to offer you a drink.”

“I don’t need a—”

“Harold, would you do me a favor and get Jeremy something to drink? I’m sure he must be parched.” She waved her hand in front of her face. “It’s been unseasonably warm, hasn’t it, dear?”

After a moment’s hesitation and, Jeremy was sure, frustration, Harold said, “Sure,” and he walked out of the room.

“I didn’t need a drink,” Jeremy said. “I had an iced coffee on my way over.”

“Harold doesn’t mind. Besides, this way we can have time to talk alone.” She leaned forward, her expression going from placid and serene to suspicious and on guard. “I don’t think you’ve ever called me and asked to come over for a visit. What’s going on? I know you can’t need money.”

Which was true, because Jeremy had a trust fund from his grandfather, his father’s entire estate, which was still bringing in more than any person could use in a lifetime, and his own income, which his manager said would soon surpass his father’s. Money wasn’t something he’d ever need from his mother. Apparently, that was a unique quality in her visitors. Uncharacteristic guilt hit him. Reg was right; Jeremy needed to visit her more often.

“No, I don’t need money.” He took in a deep breath. “I want to let you know I’m seeing someone.”

“Oh!” His mother’s face lit up. “That’s wonderful. Do I know her? Or is she just starting out?”

“He’s not in the business, actually.”

The statement hung in the air, neither of them moving or speaking.

“I brought you a rum and coke.” Harold stepped into the room and thrust a glass at him. “I hope that’s okay.”

Moving his gaze up to look the man in the face, Jeremy shook his head, said, “I’m good,” and then he turned back to his mother. He needed to assess her reaction so he’d know what measures he’d need to put in place to deal with it.

Seemingly unaware of the almost suffocating tension in the air, Harold shrugged, raised the glass to his lips, and tilted it back, swallowing down the liquid. Once the glass was empty, he shuffled over to one of the chairs and sat down. “So.” He looked back and forth between Jeremy and his mother. “What’d I miss?”

Arching his eyebrows, Jeremy waited for his mother to respond. He was almost sure she was going to throw a fit and yell, Lord knew for what reason, but then she surprised him by pulling on a look of contentment and saying, “Jeremy was just starting to tell me about his new boyfriend.”

“Jeremy Jameson is gay?” Harold asked, taken off guard.

Not missing a beat, Jeremy’s mother turned to him and said, “Sweetheart, what’s your preferred terminology? We’ll want to make sure we get it right when the press asks.” She paused and looked pointedly at Harold. “Isn’t that right, Harold?”

“Uh, yes.” He bobbed his head. “Right.”

“And, please, tell us your boyfriend’s name.”

Relieved he had his mother’s support, unusual though it was, Jeremy relaxed and started telling her about Reg. He was surprised to still be sharing details when Reg called an hour later, as promised. Apparently, he had learned a lot more about the easygoing man in the short time they’d spent together than he’d realized.

Chapter 4

“HEY, LITTLE dude!” Reg said with a chuckle when his nephew answered the door buck naked and hugged his knees. “Why aren’t you wearing clothes?”

“Uncle Reg is here!” four-year-old Presley shouted, clinging to his leg. Reg hobbled into the house. “Uncle Reg is here!”

“Uncle Reg!” Six-year-old Danielle peeled in from around the corner and hopped onto his empty leg, wrapping around him like a monkey and grasping his arm.

“Hey, Dani girl.” Reg pushed the door shut and continued his double-limped march through the house, stepping over toys and clothes. “What’s on your hands?”

Both kids started talking at once, so it was impossible to know what either one was saying.

“Jules? Ry?” Reg called out. “You home?”

“No,” his brother Ryan shouted from the direction of the kitchen. “We left the inmates in charge of the asylum and went out to dinner.”

“You’re hilarious.” With a hand on each child’s shoulder to ensure they wouldn’t fall, Reg walked through the family room. “Why is Presley naked? And why is Dani sticky?”

When he finally reached the kitchen, he plopped into one of the chairs around the small round table his sister-in-law had painted bright blue. Last month it was red. Before that green. Reg couldn’t remember the table’s color history beyond that. It made him think of Jeremy’s hair, and thinking of Jeremy made him smile.