Chapter Twelve
The breeze shivers through his hair as Will climbs out of the Porsche and follows Patrick into the hotel after turning the car back over to the valet. It’s been a full day and a half of successfully avoiding Tony Molinaro and his new bride, and he’s feeling much improved.
They’d spent the morning exploring the offerings of the salt-water lagoon. But when Patrick spotted Tony and Angelica on a nearby walkway, they’d hightailed it out of the resort to take the car to Waialea, also known as Beach 69, for the day.
They snorkeled and played in the waves for hours. Children and families dotted the beach and splashed all around them. It was chaotic and yet peaceful, the sound of the water and waves drowning out details of other people’s conversations, until Will had felt they were alone in the beautiful ocean.
Once they were deliciously tired from the salt water and fresh air, Will spread out to dry off in the sun while Patrick huddled beneath a rented umbrella with his floppy hat, scads of titanium dioxide sunscreen, and read his trashy vampire book. Then they’d made out like teenagers behind a rock outcropping before jumping into the rented Porsche to head back.
As far as Will’s concerned, it’s been a perfect day. His shoulders are loose, his spirits high, and his skin more tan than ever before. In contrast, Patrick is red, hungry, and grumpy. Despite his best efforts not to burn, he’s pink all over and freckles have burst out on his shoulders, arms, and chest like hidden treasure surfacing. Will loves them, but Patrick finds them annoying. At the moment, tired and hungry as he is, Patrick seems to find everything annoying.
Will doesn’t care. He thinks Patrick’s adorable this way and, on the drive home, he gave him a kiss on his wrist for every grouchy comment.
“That idiot valet better not scratch that perfect piece of machinery,” Patrick grumbles as he watches the young man pull away in the Porsche.
Will grabs his arm and kisses his wrist again.
“Stop that,” Patrick mutters. “You’re getting me all slobbery.”
Will licks his wrist this time.
Patrick rolls up the sleeve of his T-shirt emblazoned with a picture of half a glass of water and the words “Half air. Half water. Technically, the glass is always full.” He pokes at his red shoulder. “I better book an appointment with an dermatological oncologist when I get home to get a jump on the incipient skin cancer treatment.”
“You’re barely red.”
“All burns are—”
“Bad burns. I know.” Will kisses Patrick’s wrist again.
Eyes flit their way in disgust, a subtle homophobia he’s almost forgotten about in the strangely safe enclave that is Healing, South Dakota. For the most part, the resort in Hawaii has been a safe haven as well, but there’s plenty of anti-gay sentiment in the world, and lots of their fellow tourists have brought it along with them.
“Slather me with aloe and then kiss my asshole for an hour and I’ll be happy again,” Patrick mutters. A woman standing too near gasps, and Patrick glares at her. “Mind your own business.”
“Don’t worry,” Will says to her as they pass. He giggles, feeling drunk from the hours in the sun and water. “I like kissing his asshole.” He doesn’t know what’s possessed him. That sort of comment is more Patrick’s speed, but he laughs even harder at her shocked face.
“Someone needs to loosen up, huh?” he says as they push deeper into the main lobby, heading toward the boat back to their suite. “She’d probably like her asshole kissed too.”
“Mmm,” Patrick says, noncommittally. “I’m hungry. Let’s order room service. Plates and plates of room service.”
Will smiles. Patrick’s in the food zone now and nothing will distract him from it, not even the joy of scandalizing the other tourists.
“William Patterson! Where on earth have you been?”
Patrick jolts to a stop before Will does and they slam together. Will blinks rapidly, his skin racing with goosebumps at the shrill sound of his mother’s voice.
No. It’s impossible. It can’t be.
Slowly, they turn to find Kimberly standing a few feet away in the lobby, her hands on her hips, sunglasses slung low on her nose so she can glare at them, and her silk sundress dancing in the constant Hawaiian breeze.
“Mom?” Will swallows hard. “What are you doing here?”
Patrick pinches the bridge of his nose, whispering, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“What am I doing here? I’ll tell you what I’m doing here,” she says, striding toward him on three-inch heels. She points a perfectly manicured nail into his chest. “You, young man. You’re the reason I’m here. You didn’t call me!”
Will’s heart squeezes and releases. “Because I’m on my honeymoon?” he asks, somehow unsure of that given everything that’s transpired in the last few days. “And I’m fine?” He swallows thickly. “Is there something wrong? Is everyone okay?” Uncle Kevin? Is he—”
Kimberly dismisses his concern with a fast wave of her hand. “Everyone’s fine at home. But you? You are not fine! I heard about your trip to the ER!”
“What? I didn’t…wait. What?” Will sputters and runs his hands through his hair. “What is going on, Mom?”
“Tony’s going on,” Patrick interrupts before Kimberly can answer. His eyes narrow on her. “Let me guess, Tony called and told you Will had some trouble with his pump the other day and insinuated he was in the hospital.”
Kimberly tosses her hair over his shoulder. “I tried to call. I didn’t get through to either of you on your cell phones.”
“I’m assuming you called the hospitals, though?” Patrick asks.
“You know as well as I do they don’t give out patient information to anyone these days. Not even mothers.”
Patrick rolls his eyes. “Bull crap. They told you he wasn’t a patient there, but you came anyway.”
“You could have called the front desk. Left a message,” Will says, joining in on Patrick’s outrage. “Since you clearly know where we’re staying somehow.” His eyes fill with tears. “Why would you come here? To do…what? Crash our honeymoon? Are you crashing our honeymoon, Mom?”
“I am most certainly not crashing your honeymoon.” Kimberly lifts her chin, but there’s some uncertainty to her voice. “I’m here to make sure you’re safe.”
“And?” Patrick prompts.
She glares at him and turns back to Will. “And to see your father. He seems to have gotten into some kind of scrape with a woman and needs help getting out of it.” She smooths her skirt down and looks away.
Patrick groans. “Kauai. Tomorrow. We’re leaving for Kauai tomorrow. End of discussion.”
“No!” Will nearly shouts. His heart is in his throat. “I want to do the meditation bed by the ocean tomorrow. I want to take the art tour you planned.”
Patrick glares at Kimberly. “You see what you’ve done? You’ve made him angry. Way to go.”
“Oh, you think he’s angry? You don’t know angry until your diabetic son doesn’t answer his phone,” Kimberly says, pointing her pink talon at Patrick now. “I’d think you, as a doctor, would understand that.”
“I’d think you, as a semi-intelligent adult, would stop racing across the world to throw your legs open for Tony Molinaro, but it looks like we’d both be wrong.”
Will huffs out a half-sob, half-sigh, and rubs his hand over his face. “How’d I ever think I could have a normal honeymoon? What crack was I smoking?”
“Molinaro-Patterson family crack,” Patrick says, glaring at Kimberly as he runs a soothing hand down Will’s back. “If I could locate the supply I’d destroy it all.”
Kimberly pops a hip and removes her sunglasses. She studies Will closely like she’ll see the lies written on his skin. Will almost feels all the old ones he’s never confessed to her drawing up to the surface under her scrutiny. “Are you telling me you weren’t in the ER yesterday after going into ketoacidosis?”
Will takes a slow breath, trying to stay calm. “What I’m telling you, Mom, is that even if I was in the hospital—which I wasn’t—I’m a grown man, and I don’t have to call my mommy to come flying across the world to hold my hand. I have a husband for that.”
“Would your husband call me if you were dying?” Kimberly pins Patrick with hard eyes. “I think not.”
“I wasn’t dying! I wasn’t even in the hospital!” Will waves his hands in the air, fury and frustration gathering in a lump in his throat. “And of course he’d call you if I was dying! I can’t believe you don’t trust him.”
“Actually, I probably wouldn’t,” Patrick says, calmly. “She’s a bad risk for you when you’re sick. I’d avoid calling her for as long I possible.”
“Not now.” Will glares at him, shaking his head. “Don’t be so honest right now.”
“Fine.” Patrick mimes zipping his lips.
Turning back to his mother, Will sighs. “I can’t believe you flew all the way here over this.”
“Of course I did! Any mother would!” Her attention goes back to Patrick. “Wouldn’t Dinah come if you were in the hospital? Of course she’d come.”
“Dinah would make sure I was actually there first.”
“And how would she do that when you don’t answer your phone?”
“She’s a smart lady. She’d figure it out.”
The tension between Kimberly and Patrick sizzles, and Will steps between them before it gets any further out of hand. “I’m sorry you were scared for me, Mom. I really am. But I was fine. The whole time.”
“It’s not just about you, William. You can’t just keep your phone turned off like this. What if there was an emergency? What if Caitlin, Olivia, or Connor needed you?”
Patrick blows a raspberry at her guilt trip.
Will closes his eyes and summons patience. “If there was a true emergency, Jenny would know about it, and she knows where we are.” Will rubs his mother’s shoulder. “She’d have contacted the hotel and they’d have made sure we got the message. Do you understand?”
“You better. Because it’s ridiculous to interfere like this,” Patrick gestures at her sharply. “And it’s exactly what we were trying to avoid.”
Kimberly’s eyes fill with tears. “Well, when you’re a mother and you hear your son is in the hospital possibly dying—”
“He said I was dying?” Will can’t believe his father would take the farce that far just to get Kimberly to Hawaii for a too horrible to imagine fuck fest.
“No, but you might have been!” she exclaims. “You know what happened the last time you went to the hospital!”
“That was a few ER trips ago, actually.” Will gently squeezes her shoulder and peers into her eyes, trying to pass his seriousness and sincerity through to her. “I haven’t come close to dying in a long time.”
“Don’t remind me how often you end up in the hospital, young man! It does not make me feel better!” She blinks tears from her blue eyes and digs in her purse for a tissue.
“Speaking of hospitals,” Patrick says, rubbing his temples before giving her a half-smile. “How’s Kevin’s dumb head? Good as new I hope?”
“He’s taking care of the children. He’s fine.” She wipes at her nose. “He just has to stay off the horses for a while. That’s all.”
“Good to hear.” Patrick nods, considering. “I guess I’ll have to trust Dr. Lerma’s opinion.” Though it is obvious to Will that he wants to check Kevin over again himself.
“Look, this is Dad’s fault, okay?” Will says, returning his focus to his mom. “He wanted you here and he got what he wanted.”
“Where is he?” she asks, looking around hopefully. She straightens her dress and runs a hand over her hair. “I’ve tried to text him since I landed but he hasn’t answered.”
“He’s probably enjoying his new bride,” Patrick says. “In a bush. Or on the beach. Somewhere public if possible. The way he likes it best.”
Will pleads, “Patrick, don’t.”
Kimberly stares at Patrick, opens her mouth, and shuts it. And then her eyes don’t just fill with tears—they spill over.
“Mom?” Will asks, pulling her into his arms. “Hey, don’t cry. I’m fine. I’m sorry I yelled at you—”
“I’m not sorry,” Patrick says, rolling his eyes.
Will ignores him and when his mother doesn’t stop crying, he steers her toward a bench beneath a pergola strewn with pink and yellow flowers on a vine. It’s out of the way of the main lobby and less public. They’ve made enough of a spectacle.
“I’m not crying about you,” Kimberly says, reaching into her purse to pull out a tissue.
“You’re not?”
“No. Of course not.” She waves dismissively at him. “You’re fine.”
Will grinds his teeth as he takes a seat beside his mother. Patrick’s stomach growls and Will sighs. It’s only a matter of time before Patrick gets truly hangry, if he isn’t already. And Will needs dinner too. For his health.
“How can I help you, Mom?” he asks, hoping to cut to the chase, but most conversations with his parents are like labyrinths. He can get in, but he can’t get out.
“Did you say Tony is married?” Kimberly asks, her gaze swerving back to Patrick.
“As married as ketchups in a diner,” Patrick confirms.
Her lips twist slightly, but she sits up straighter. Her voice is tight when she asks, “To whom?”
“Angelica Madison.” Patrick raises a brow. “Stripper extraordinaire. Lovely girl. She’s fun.”
“Patrick…” Will warns again. The Hawaiian breeze washes over them along with the scent of jasmine.
Kimberly closes her eyes and shakes her head. “I’m such a fool.”
“Tell me more,” Patrick says.
Will shoots Patrick a silencing glare until he puts up his hands in surrender.
Kimberly seems to have taken Patrick’s snark seriously. “When he said he was in a scrape with some woman, I thought he was trying to make me jealous so that I’d come down here to ‘save’ him. I didn’t think…” She sniffles again. “You mean he’s actually…he married her?”
“For fun,” Patrick says again. But gently this time, like he’s trying to be sweet and reassuring. Will’s stomach flutters and his heart softens. Underneath his gruff exterior, Patrick is a healer and he’ll always try to ease anyone’s suffering. Even someone he doesn’t like very much.
“It’s just a fling.” Will pushes a hank of his mother’s hair behind her ear. “He’s just trying to bait you.”
“And it worked,” Patrick points out.
Kimberly pats at her eyes with the tissue. “Did my mascara run?”
“No,” Will whispers.
“Good.” She straightens her shoulders, puts her chin up, and the tears are replaced by a glare. “I want to look my best when I give him a piece of my mind.”
“And your ass.”
“Patrick!” Will snaps, his relaxed mood from earlier dissolved in the glare of the late-afternoon sun and his mother’s red eyes. “Mom, calm down and just…”
“No, I need to find him,” Kimberly says, standing up and smoothing her dress again. “Now that I know you’re safe, I’ll help your father disentangle himself from the clutches of this gold digger. Even if he doesn’t deserve my help.”
“Diamond digger.” Patrick spreads his hands wide. “She’s got a huge tooting diamond she plans to sell.”
“To fund her return to college,” Will confirms, rising and taking his mother’s hand.
Kimberly frowns. “Good lord, if the man wanted me to come down here for a tropical fling, you’d think he’d just call. He knows that’s all it’d take.” She rolls her eyes. “Why make up something about you being in the hospital? Why marry some…” She waves her hand around. A parrot squawks in a nearby cage.
“Some stripper?” Patrick offers.
Will watches as a butterfly flies close by and lands in one of the flowering bushes next to the pergola. “I guess he thinks this is more—”
“Fun,” Patrick says again.
“Yeah,” Will rubs a hand over his face and his monitor alarm goes off. He glances down at the numbers. “Low.” He slings his murse down off his shoulder and takes out a small tube of frosting and opens it, squirting the sickly sweet contents into his mouth and closing his eyes.
Patrick raises a brow at Kimberly. “Stop stressing him out.”
“I’m not,” she says irritably. “You both stressed me out. Well, you and his father.”
“Then go find his father.” Patrick takes Will’s hand and pulls him up from the bench. “We’re on our honeymoon and you’re not welcome to be part of it.”
Kimberly gasps, but Patrick doesn’t wait to start up another argument with her. Will doesn’t fight him as he leads the way toward the boat dock to catch a ride back to their rooms.
Rolling the sweetness of the frosting around in his mouth, Will sighs again. He doesn’t even look back over his shoulder to make sure she’s okay. His mother can fend for herself. He’s done pretending his entire family isn’t legitimately insane.
At least until after they’ve eaten dinner.
And after he’s spent some time kissing Patrick’s asshole.
Then maybe he’ll be willing to think about his family and their dramas again. But he doubts it. He’s on his honeymoon with Patrick and he’s going to dedicate every single bit of his brainpower to enjoying it.
Even if his family is determined to make that really, really hard. Or impossible.