Hook, Line, and Sinker (Flirting with the Zodiac Book 1) Page 17

  “Oh, come on! You should socialize, or some of the older folks will think you’re standoffish—”

  “I don’t care what any of you think,” he snapped, trying to close the door again. She wedged her foot in harder, and both of them gritted their teeth. “I’m pregnant, I have a headache, and you can all go to hell.”

  “Well!” she cried, springing back in surprise, and he almost slammed the door shut, but she shoved back with her hands. “That’s no excuse to be rude; there were no exceptions made when I was—”

  “I don’t care!” he cried, suddenly verging on tears. “Just leave me alone!”

  “I’m just trying to be nice to you! If you don’t want to be part of the family, why’d you even come here?! Go back to Mars!”

  Ty gritted his teeth, but she plowed on. “I can’t believe Lawrence married you!”

  “I asked you to leave!”

  “And I will!” With that, she let the door fall shut. The slam echoed through the hall, and Ty stood on the other side of it, staring at the dark wood panels, even darker in the dingy bedroom.

  “Bitch,” he muttered finally, turning away from the door.

  Well, that had gone swimmingly. He could already hear the gossip …

  He let his head fall back against the door with a hollow thump. He needed to stop giving Lawrence’s parents ammunition. Wasn’t like they needed any help arguing he was no good for Lawrence.

  Twenty-Two

  Lawrence stormed into their bedroom, slamming the door so violently, the entire house seemed to shudder. Ty jolted from the uneasy sleep he’d fallen into after his altercation with Lucy. He took one look at the storm cloud of expression on Lawrence’s face and promptly started crying.

  “What did you say,” Lawrence ground out as he stalked toward the bed.

  “Nothing!” Ty blurted, then scrubbed his arm across his face. He sniffled loudly, trying to rein himself in. “Nothing. I just said I had a headache and wouldn’t have tea with them.”

  Lawrence didn’t look convinced, although his footsteps faltered. Slowly, he sank down on the bed beside Ty, confusion marring his face. “Really?”

  Ty nodded. “Honestly. I just tried to get her to leave and she started … I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his hair, sighed. Baby was kicking at him thunderously, so he turned onto his side. “She told me to go back to Mars, said she couldn’t believe you’d married me.”

  Lawrence sighed. “Did you happen to tell her to go to hell?”

  Ty cringed, flushing red. “Well.”

  Lawrence hung his head. “Ty …”

  Ty jammed his fingers into his eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m such a fucking mess …”

  “It’s okay, starfish. They’re mad, but we’ll figure it out.”

  “I know,” Ty almost whispered.

  Lawrence got to his feet. “It’s almost lunchtime. Think you can pull it together?”

  “Yeah.”

  Lawrence nodded once, then headed into the bathroom. Ty clutched at the sheets a moment longer, then rolled out of bed and pawed through his luggage.

  Nothing fit him; he was going to be so glad when this was all over. He tried smoothing the front of his shirt down, but that only made his navel more noticeable.

  There was a sharp intake of breath from across the room. He glanced guiltily at Lawrence but didn’t dare move. Lawrence looked like he’d been slapped, shock in every crease of his face.

  “I didn’t realize you were that big,” he blurted, then turned tomato red. Ty felt his own face heating up. “I mean!”

  Ty turned away, folding his arms. “I know,” he grumbled.

  “I like it?” Lawrence squeaked from behind him, then cleared his throat. “I mean, it’ll all be over soon.” He grinned. “Are you ready?”

  Ty sighed. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” he muttered, taking another glance in the mirror. There was definitely no helping his silhouette.

  ***

  The dining room was all but deserted when they walked in. Ty glanced hastily at Lawrence, then at the rest of the room, with its dangling chandeliers and marble floors, the enormous oak table running the length of it.

  “I thought you said it was lunchtime?”

  “I thought it was,” Lawrence muttered. They heard heels echoing on the marble tiles, and then Mrs. Trafford poked her head into the room.

  “There you are!” she cried, before her face settled in a frown. “Lawrence, what are you doing here?”

  He smiled a touch. “I thought it was time for lunch?”

  Mrs. Trafford almost scoffed, then traipsed across the floor. She wrenched on Ty’s wrist. He pulled back viciously. “What the—”

  “There was a reason we made them go to the cigar room,” she hissed. Her nostrils flared with the force of her breathing. She grabbed his wrist again, then half-dragged him from the dining room.

  He tripped across the tiles into another cavernous room, which was brightly lit in the afternoon sun. He almost crashed into Mrs. Trafford when he stumbled to a stop. An insult was on the tip of his tongue when a flash of silver caught his eye. He stared at the balloons, the crepe, cupcakes and boxes wrapped in glittering paper, the crowd of women now turning their curious gazes on him.

  He almost threw up. “The heck is this,” he wheezed instead, and Lawrence made himself useful by sliding a chair behind Ty’s knees as he sat down anyway.

  “What does it look like?” Mrs. Trafford groused.

  “Not that you seem to appreciate it,” Lucy sniffed.

  “A baby shower!” Myrtle cried and clapped her hands, ignoring the tension in the rest of the room. She beamed at Ty, and Ty wanted to sink through the floor because it was incredibly apparent she was the only one in the room who wanted to be there. The whole thing was probably at her behest.

  He really hadn’t thought this whole charade through. What was that stupid saying about marriage? Something about getting a whole other family.

  He’d only wanted Lawrence.

  “Yes, Mother,” Aunt Doris said, “a baby shower.”

  “What’s the matter?” Mrs. Trafford all but snarled at him. “Do you not do baby showers where you’re from?”

  Ty gaped at her for a split-second, his brain unable to process. “What do you mean?” Myrtle huffed. “He’s from Mars. They do baby showers there.”

  Mrs. Trafford rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

  Lawrence frowned. “Are you implying something, Mother?”

  “Of course not. Just that …”

  “That he’s different,” Aunt Doris grunted, her whole body jerking with the motion—much like her brother.

  “Well,” Lucy said with a shrug and a wry grin, “he is, isn’t he?”

  “You make it sound like it’s a bad thing,” Myrtle pressed.

  “Enough,” Ty grumbled, rubbing at his temples. “I know what a baby shower is. I just … wasn’t expecting one.”

  Silence pervaded the room. “Well,” Mrs. Trafford said, turning to Lawrence, “it’s so very nice to know exactly what your spouse thinks of us.”

  Lawrence frowned. “He didn’t say anything—”

  “He thinks so little of us, he couldn’t even fathom that we’d try to do something nice for him, welcome him into this family!”

  “You don’t even want me to be part of this family!” Ty snapped.

  “You’re not even trying!” Mrs. Trafford fired back.

  “You’ve accused me of trapping Lawrence, ruining his life!”

  “You told all of us to go to hell!” Lucy barked.

  “Because you wouldn’t take a hint!” He looked up at Lawrence, who had curled a hand over his shoulder. Lawrence’s blue gaze bored into his for a second or two; then he looked up at the rest of the party. “You—”

  “Enough!” Myrtle glared at all of them. “Sit down—all of you. Yes, you too Lawrence.”

  Lawrence hovered for a second, apparently torn between fight and flight. Then he perched primly on the chair
beside Ty, hands folded neatly in his lap. Ty huffed, slouching as much as his back would allow, crossing his arms.

  “I can’t believe you,” Myrtle grumbled, tossing her head. “Ty might be from Mars, but he’s a nice boy and makes Lawrence happy. He’s part of this family now, and all I asked was that we do something to make him feel welcome.” She glared at Mrs. Trafford. “But we can’t even manage that.”

  “Mother,” Mrs. Trafford started.

  “No,” Myrtle snapped, “Ethel, I know you think I’ve gone senile, but I hear what you and Larry tell Lawrence, that he needs to come home, get away from this Martian sponge, this alien. You might not like Ty, but he’s not the only one you’re hurting. Keep it up, and you won’t ever see your grandson or your son.”

  Ethel was pink, maybe with rage or embarrassment. “I …”

  “You’re having a boy?” another cousin—Ty thought maybe her name was Liza—asked, cutting off further argument.

  “I don’t know,” Ty spat.

  “What?! How don’t you know?!” Aunt Doris cried.

  “Nobody told us!” Ty cried, holding up his hands.

  “Can they not tell yet?” Liza asked, apparently preferring the direction the conversation was taking.

  “I think they—”

  “How long are your freaky fishy pregnancies?” Lucy spat.

  “Fuck you, it’s not freaky! It’s—”

  “Kinda weird,” Liza said.

  “Will you all hush!” Myrtle raised her hands to the sky. “Can’t we just have a nice party?!”

  “No, we can’t,” Ty snapped. “Take back the presents, I don’t care. I know when I’m not wanted, and I’m not gonna sit here while you all fake being nice to me because someone else told you that you had to be.”

  He almost tripped as he spun on his heel and tried to march off. Lawrence watched him stumble, then turned back to the crowd.“Such fine Martian manners!” Lucy cried after him.

  “They’re all like that,” Aunt Doris huffed, “never say ‘thank you.’”

  “Auntie, he doesn’t need to thank you for being disingenuous,” Lawrence cut in sharply.

  “Oh, that’s right, Lawrence, go on and defend your little fishwife and his bad manners. How blind are you? Or are you happy to let him bleed you dry?!”

  “Mother!”

  Ty stormed through the dining room doors, let them slam behind him, shutting out the rest of the argument. He glared at the ceiling.

  Something caught in his back, and he landed his hands there, pressed his hips forward.

  Fuck, he needed to calm down. Take a nap. Something.

  A smoke, that was what he needed. But there were no smokes to be had, so he inhaled deep through his nose, then stormed back to their bedroom.

  Of course, it wasn’t long before Lawrence found him—there were only so many places to run, he supposed, especially in enemy territory.

  Lawrence closed the door quietly behind him, then tiptoed across the creaking floorboards.

  “I’m awake,” Ty said angrily. He shuffled around on the bed slightly, rubbing at his back, then dropping his phone.

  The leather desk chair huffed as Lawrence sat down. Ty glanced up at him, watched him drag a hand down his face. He looked away, seemingly unable to meet Ty’s gaze.

  Ty wanted to be sick. Lawrence wasn’t going to end this, was he? Ty had never known Lawrence to stand up to his family when they got like this. He usually caved.

  Actually, it was surprising that he’d lasted this long.

  His heart nearly stopped when Lawrence said, “I’m sorry.”

  “Laz—”

  Lawrence shook his head. “I don’t know what to do,” he almost whimpered. “I tried arguing with Mother, told them to stop—we’re here. Why isn’t that enough? It doesn’t matter what I do—it’s never right, it’s never enough for them.” His brow crunched. “It’s like they don’t care if I’m happy or miserable.”

  Ty bit his tongue; he’d thought that much was obvious. Lawrence closed his eyes. “I spent so long just trying to please them, but they’re never going to be happy. I think I knew that, even when I moved to Mars, started attending New Martia. I thought maybe space and distance would change things, make them realize …”

  He trailed off, licked his lips. Ty let him contemplate. Lawrence looked back at him finally. “I can’t make them like you, but they could try. They could try to understand how happy I am with you, that everything they’re saying and doing … it hurts. It hurts, because I know what they want me to do, and I … I don’t want to, Ty.”

  Ty swallowed bile. Lawrence was crumbling; he was going to dump him, tell him it would never work, ask for a divorce. “You can’t,” he almost whimpered.

  “I can’t keep letting them hurt you.” Lawrence said it with such conviction, such apology.

  “They’re hurting you too,” Ty hissed, “they’re—”

  “I know.” Lawrence swallowed tight. “I’m so happy, Ty, I’ve wanted this for so long now. I convinced myself you didn’t want it, so I didn’t say anything. But it was because I was scared, scared of what they’d say, what they’d think, so I …”

  Ty tried to sit up—he really did—but there was no graceful way of doing it on his own these days. Finally, he just swung his legs off the bed and got up. He reached for Lawrence, grabbed his hand. Lawrence latched on, squeezed tight. “I’m not going to let them keep hurting us, starfish.”

  “Laz, I …” He scrubbed at his eyes with his arm, then hiccuped. He grimaced a bit, then heaved another breath. “I, um … oh.” He groped for the bed, the blankets suddenly far out of reach.

  Lawrence perked up. “Fishy?”

  Ty almost rolled back onto the bed. “I … think I’m gonna lay down for a bit.”

  Lawrence frowned at him. “Are you okay?”

  Ty clutched at the sheets. “Yeah. Sure.”

  Lawrence glanced at the clock. “Will you be okay for dinner?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be okay.”

  Another curious glance. Then Lawrence slipped out of the chair. “All right. I’ll be back in half.”

  Twenty-Three

  They were, of course, late for dinner. Everyone had already taken their seats; the room was buzzing, the chatter of conversations rising up to the rafters. Ty peered into the room, then clutched at the doorframe. He still felt a bit sick, a bit dizzy; his back ached.

  He didn’t want to face Lawrence’s parents, not knowing how upset Lawrence was with them. Not knowing how close they were to winning this sick little game of theirs. Lawrence tugged gently on his hand though, and they entered the room, hoping to find their designated spots quickly, without notice.

  No such luck. They were late, and everyone was waiting for them, it seemed. Ty squared his shoulders to keep himself from physically shrinking behind Lawrence as he felt all eyes turn on them.

  Those eyes followed them as they made their way the length of the room; it seemed to get longer with each step they took. They were right across Chaz and Lucy. Aunt Doris frowned at them from her place beside Chaz. Ethel was on Lawrence’s right, his father at the head of the table. Ty was next to Frankie, who gave him a cool look. His wife, Bea, looked at Ty curiously, then back to her own plate.

  “Evening,” Lawrence said with a curt nod to his father.

  “Don’t evening us, Lawrence,” Ethel all but snarled. “You’re late. You know better.” Her gaze was pinned to Ty.

  Lawrence cringed, then stiffened. “Nothing’s been served yet, so I don’t see the problem.”

  His father grunted. “You were raised better than that.”

  “Unlike some people at this table,” Ethel said sharply. “We respect each other’s time here.”

  “Yes, well.” Lawrence glared down at his empty plate.

  Someone coughed, and then the murmur of conversation started. One of the servers lifted a bottle of wine. “Ah, no, thank you,” Lawrence said.

  The server turned to Ty, eyes wide and hop
eful. “Ah,” Lawrence said, “none for him either.”

  “Good thing too,” Chaz drawled. “Last time he was drunk, he tried to fight me.”

  “I didn’t try,” Ty gritted out.

  Frankie coughed into his napkin, glancing surreptitiously at Ty. Bea leaned around him, a smile creasing her face almost painfully. “How was the baby shower? I’m sorry we missed it, our flight was delayed.”

  “Delightful,” Lucy drawled, glaring at Ty.

  “What’s your deal?” Ty huffed.

  “We’re just trying to be nice!” Lucy retorted. “You just want to be angry, but you’re not even making an effort!”

  “I let Lawrence travel to Earth, to spend Thanksgiving with you, a week before my due date! How is that not making an effort?!”

  “You let Lawrence,” Ethel snapped. “You let my son come see his own family, you magnanimous Martian who—”

  “Like you’re any better! I at least let him make his own decisions, unlike you, you controlling, manipulative bi—”

  “I’m the manipulative one! You’re the one who got knocked up on purpose, you gold-digging alien freak!”

  “Enough!” Lawrence thundered, slamming his hands down on the table. “Mother, enough! You can’t talk to him that way—I don’t even want you to think about him like that! I made my own damn decision, one that’s made me happier than I ever could have thought, and I’ll be damned if I let you badger me out of it by slandering my husband like this!”

  “Lawrence,” Ethel said.

  “You can’t speak to your mother that way,” Larry started, and Lawrence rounded on him.

  “I’ll speak to her any way I want! I haven’t said anything this long, because I was so worried about what you’d think, but you two never spare me the same courtesy! You’re attacking Ty, but he’s not the only person you’re hurting! I’m tired of letting you two make me miserable!”

  “Well, I!” Ethel cried, then stared at Lawrence, slack-jawed, as though someone had struck her.

  Lawrence huffed and sat down. “You can either learn to accept this, or leave me alone. I’m not going to let you hurt us anymore.”