I shrugged and said, “Sometimes people can surprise you.”
After a pause, Wes straightened his posture and asked, “Why am I acting like something’s wrong? Okay, yes, it feels odd to be on the outside when my entire family is gathering together, but this was my choice! I don’t want to be there. In fact, it’s a huge relief to be giving that wedding a skip.”
He tossed back the rest of his drink, then said, “We should be celebrating, because the last, miserable chapter of my life has ended, and a fantastic new one has begun. Please put some music on that old juke box, Ash. And Georgie, I’d like to buy a round of drinks for everyone.” When the bartender announced this to his patrons, it was met with cheers and applause.
A round of drinks turned into several, and the mood in the bar improved considerably. I kept up a steady stream of classic rock on the juke box, and a few people even started to dance, us included.
“This is more like it,” Wes said, as he and I moved to the music on the tiny, parquet dance floor.
“Yup, this is definitely what the doctor ordered,” I said, with a goofy grin. I was definitely tipsy.
Wes’s back was to the door, so he didn’t notice when a tall, older gentleman in a gray three-piece suit entered the bar. As the newcomer shook out his umbrella in the foyer, a smile spread across my face. I recognized this man, because I’d seen his photos on social media.
I stopped dancing and said, “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be at the bar, getting us a refill,” Wes told me, and we headed in opposite directions.
I rushed over to Davis Stanton Bennett and stuck out my hand. “Hi Doctor Bennett! I’m Ash Landry, Wesley’s boyfriend. He’s going to be so happy to see you!”
Wes’s grandfather was an imposing man with thick, white hair, intelligent dark eyes, and a neatly trimmed white mustache. He had to be in his early eighties, but he stood tall and looked as fit as any man half his age. “I’m afraid I’ve been out of the loop,” he said, as he shook my hand and appraised me with his sharp gaze. “I wasn’t aware Wesley was seeing anyone.”
“I’m new. He sprang me on the fam earlier this week, but it didn’t go well.”
“Why is that?”
I shrugged. “Let’s just say I wasn’t Eloise’s cup of tea.”
When he muttered, “My daughter-in-law needs to lighten up,” I knew we’d get along just fine.
I linked my arm with his and said, “Come with me.” Then I led him to his grandson and exclaimed, “Look who’s here!”
Wes seemed surprised, but quickly regained his composure. He stood up, stuck his hand out, and instantly reverted to full Bennett mode. “Thank you for coming, Grandfather. It’s a pleasure to see you.”
“Oh, come on,” I blurted. “You two love each other! Stop treating this like a business meeting and give your grandpa a hug.”
Wes went rigid, but Davis chuckled, then grabbed his grandson in a back-slapping embrace as he said, “You’re looking well, Wesley. And your young man is quite something.” I decided to take that as a compliment.
Once we all took a seat at the bar, Davis said, “As I told your boyfriend a moment ago, I tend to be out of the loop when it comes to my family. That’s my fault. I know I spend far too much time traveling. But I want to hear about what’s been going on with you, Wesley.”
“I’d love to catch up,” Wes said, “but what about the wedding? It’ll be starting any minute.”
“I’ve just come from there. When I learned you wouldn’t be attending, I asked my assistant to find out where you were, so I could join you.”
Wes looked confused. “Why did you do that?”
“Since your former fiancé and long-time best friend is marrying your brother, I assumed you might be feeling hurt and alone tonight. I’m thrilled to discover you’re actually in very good company.”
Davis smiled at me when he said that, and I exclaimed, “Finally, a family member who gets it! I mean, Camille and her hubby do too, but they’re at the wedding. Not that I expected them to choose sides, but it’s just nice to see someone show up for Wes.”
My boyfriend studied the scratched bar top and murmured, “Now that you know I’m not alone, I’ll understand if you want to head back to the wedding.”
Davis took off his damp suit jacket and draped it over a nearby barstool. “This looks like much more fun.” He gestured at the blue cocktails in front of us and asked, “What are we drinking?”
“It’s called an AMF,” I told him.
“What does that stand for?”
I grinned at him. “Adios, motherfucker. Would you like one?”
“Why yes,” Davis Stanton Bennett said, as he rolled back the cuffs of his white dress shirt. “I believe I would.”