Chapter Twenty-eight: Why Do I feel Like Running?
"I don't think this is such a good idea," Martin mused aloud. "I mean…can't we rethink this? We could go see a movie or…just hang out at home."
Danny entwined his fingers with Martin's, giving them a gentle squeeze. "It won't be so bad. Come on, we can do this, Fitzy."
Martin looked at the impressive mansion looming before him. All throughout his childhood this place had been a fortress, a place to go when school was out and they weren't on vacation in some faraway place. Very rarely did he look upon the house as a place of safety, having never really found any reassurance inside. His mother was always busy with her parties and charities and his father…well, he tried not to dwell on the way his father had been growing up. He was still trying to do something that would please the old man and with every passing day it seemed that he failed a little more, fell a few inches further in his father's eyes. Now the question was whether or not he really cared.
When Danny found out about the invitation for dinner from Mrs. Fitzgerald he jumped on the chance. Something about making a good impression to help things along. And since it seemed that Martin's mother was okay with the relationship, what would it hurt to actually get to know her? Maybe she would realize what an upstanding young man Danny was and help them convince Victor that this relationship was truly right. Martin told Danny he was dreaming of the impossible.
They started toward the front door and his stomach did flip-flops. He didn't want to be here, not with Danny. All he could think about was how his lover would react to the wealth of the place and then of course he had to worry about Victor. He wanted to hightail it out of there.
"I can't do this," he said, planting his feet firmly. "I can't willingly lead you into the lion's den. I love you too much to ever do that."
Danny chuckled. "Martin, I'm a grown man. I think I can handle your parents."
"Keep dreaming…"
He leaned over, brushing his lips against Martin's cheek. "If you do this for me I'll do something extra special for you," he whispered into Martin's ear. "Anything your little heart desires."
"Anything?"
"Anything," confirmed Danny.
Martin looked at the house again, trying to swallow down the growing trepidation that threatened to take hold of him and send him running for the hills. Why did Danny have to be so on board with having dinner with his parents? "Fine. But you can bet your ass I'm going to make that promise worth it."
Danny just chuckled again, leading him toward the door with another reassuring squeeze of his hand. As they made their way up the walk he tried to think of pleasant things, things that made him happy. Like Danny. Or being at work with Sam and Jack and Vivian. Having his teeth pulled probably would have been more appealing at that moment. When they stopped before the door Danny kissed him once again on the cheek and whispered an "I love you" before he knocked. Martin could already feel the knots in his stomach tightening; sweat gearing up to start popping out on his forehead and his palms. He tried to swallow and found it a little hard. Inside his chest his heart felt like a rapid hummingbird hyped up on ecstasy or some other drug. Maybe he'd have a heart attack and that would be the end to the night. As he heard the distinct sound of heels on tiled floor beyond the door he actually began to hope that his heart would give out on him. Anything to get him out of this treacherous night.
Mrs. Fitzgerald opened the door. The outfit she wore that evening was beyond stunning, the deep midnight blue of her dress complementing the color of her eyes. The string of pearls around her neck glittered much the way the rest of her jewelry did. She looked like she was going to one of her balls or something. Martin resisted the urge to glance at Danny to gauge his reaction.
"Martin," she exclaimed, hugging him and kissing his cheek. "Always a pleasure dear, and why do you insist on knocking? This is your home too." Before he could offer an answer she turned her attention to Danny. Martin had to admit that his lover looked stunning in the suit he'd chosen to wear. "Why you must be the man that has my little boy all in a tizzy."
Martin could feel the heat of a blush creeping across his cheeks.
"Mrs. Fitzgerald, I must say, you look quite exquisite," Danny said, laying on the charm. "And you raised a wonderful son."
"Come, come," she said, taking Martin by the hand and then Danny. She walked them into the house, leaving the maid to close the front door. Martin hazarded a glance at Danny over his mother's head to find an amused sparkle in his lover's eye. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.
In the dining room they found cold refreshments already waiting for them. Martin was happy to note that it was champagne because he wanted a drink more than anything. Then he remembered that Danny was strict about not touching alcohol. It wouldn't be fair to have a glass while his lover had to deal with the eventual Spanish Inquisition sober. He picked up a glass of water instead and handed a second glass to Danny. He caught the look on his mother's face and figured he should explain.
But without telling the whole truth. "Danny doesn't like to drink…"
His mom didn't miss a beat. "Oh, you're a lawyer. I bet you see some bad things brought on by the likes of alcohol. I'll have the maid bring in some juice or soda. Whatever you would like."
Things seemed to be going amazingly smooth. As they stood around in the dining room waiting for dinner to finish or his father- he wasn't sure which- they made idle chitchat. He had to give Danny credit. And his mother too. The both of them were handling the situation a whole hell of a lot better than he was. The conversation they carried on it was like they had known each other for years instead of only a matter of minutes. She learned just about everything there was to learn about Danny, including the fact that his brother was troubled but trying to go straight. Martin expected something like that to upset his mother, to make her see where his father was coming from but it didn't. She expressed her apologies and sympathies like any normal person would have. The conversation quickly changed from topics of get-to-know-me to things that were happening in the world. The more the two of them talked the more Martin found himself relaxing. Maybe this wouldn't be that bad.
Then his father walked into the room. He could tell that Danny noticed him by the sudden change of tone in his voice and the slight hiccup in the conversation.
Mrs. Fitzgerald walked across the room and took her husband's hand. "Come meet Danny Taylor, dear. He's a lawyer and the most fascinating young man."
Martin swallowed nervously, gripping the glass in his hand tighter.
What would his father say? What would he do?
But it wasn't his father that spoke next. It was his mom. "And I think he's perfect for Martin."