Inside Out Part 6

"Fine. We can stop on the way back," Bull said sharply.

"It's okay," Zach said from behind him, and Bull felt a soft pat on his shoulder. He switched the direction of his turn signal and made the left turn, then the immediate right into the restaurant parking lot.

Thankfully, they weren't busy, and the host showed them directly to a table. Bull placed Zach next to him and took his hand beneath the tablecloth. His mother asked for a gla.s.s of wine as soon as the waiter approached the table. "I'm sorry, ma'am, we don't serve alcohol. You're free to bring your own and we'll be glad to pour it for you," he said and then took their drink orders.

"I forgot how ridiculous Pennsylvania is about alcohol. Imagine a nice restaurant not serving wine," she said more loudly than was necessary, as though someone were going to hear her and instantly change the law just for her. Zach ordered a Diet c.o.ke, and Bull did the same. They got an order of bruschetta to split while Bull's mother ordered a full meal.

"Have you been seeing my son long?" Bull's mother asked Zach.

"I met him at his club, and we had lunch last Sat.u.r.day. Afterwards, a guy mugged me, and Bull came to the rescue," Zach said and then looked at him. "This is our first official date, I guess." He squeezed Bull's hand.

"So this is new," she said.

"Mother," Bull warned softly, but as deeply as he could. The server brought her dinner salad, and for a few moments she was quiet.

"You know I don't approve of... this...." She waved her fork at both of them.

"Bull is a good man," Zach interrupted, and Bull watched the full effect of his mother's steely gaze fall on Zach. "He's caring and thoughtful, although he doesn't want most people to know that. He's also more than capable of making his own decisions." Zach leaned over the table. "He has told you he's gay, right?" Bull's mother's eyes widened and she nodded. "So is it me you object to? Or that you won't accept facts?" Zach's voice was soft, but his words seemed to carry immense weight. "If you loved him, you'd accept Bull for who he is and not what you want him to be." Zach turned toward Bull. "I wish I'd had the chance to say that to my own family."

Bull nodded his understanding and turned to his mother, who looked completely shocked. "I want some wine," she said, obviously avoiding Zach's question. Instead, she drank her water. The server brought their appetizer to share, along with his mother's fish. She ate it in silence and kept reaching for a wine gla.s.s that wasn't there. To say the rest of the meal was strained was a vast understatement. Bull watched his mother eat silently. He and Zach talked quietly and ate their bruschetta. By the time they were done eating, Bull could have cut the tension with a knife. Zach had quietly apologized to him no less than six times, telling Bull he felt bad for imposing. "It's not your fault," Bull whispered more than once.

After a seemingly interminable amount of time, the server brought their check, and Bull placed enough bills in the folder to cover it along with a nice tip. "You don't need to leave that much," his mother said, reaching for the folder. Bull took it and placed it out of her reach before standing up. He waited for her to walk toward the door before following with Zach. He tried his best to ignore the way she was acting and enjoy being with Zach, but she was sucking any fun or liveliness out of the room.

Silence prevailed for the rest of the ride to Zach's apartment. Bull parked the car and walked Zach to his door.

"I had a wonderful time and-"

"You don't have to say it. She's your mother and she is the way she is. You can't change her any more than she can change you, thank G.o.d." Zach looked dramatically toward the starry sky. "I am sorry I opened my big mouth, but I meant what I said about you, whether she wants to hear it or not." Zach opened the door to the small entranceway, and Bull followed him inside and up to his apartment. He waited while Zach unlocked the door and then he followed Zach inside. Once Zach had closed the door, Bull pulled him into an embrace. "I don't think I'll ever get tired of holding you." He leaned down and kissed Zach hard.

His body reacted instantly, and while the last thing he wanted was to go out to face his mother with a hard-on, he wouldn't change the time he had with Zach for anything. Zach moaned softly and held on as they deepened the kiss. "I wish you could stay," Zach said breathlessly.

"Me too," Bull agreed. "But I'll call you soon, and we'll get together without my mother tagging along." G.o.d, that was so d.a.m.ned embarra.s.sing. "Have a good day at work tomorrow, and I'll call you, I promise." Bull got one more sweet kiss and then turned to leave the apartment before he decided to let his mother sit in the car while he took Zach to his bedroom. His heart pounded and his breathing raced as he pulled open the door, said good-bye, and then descended the stairs. He sighed as he pushed open the outside door and walked to the car.

"Well, that was a mealtime experience I don't want to have again," his mother said as soon as Bull got in and closed the door.

Bull clenched the steering wheel as his frustration rose to the surface. "You chose the restaurant, you ordered the food, and you did everything in your power to make the conversation around the table as unpleasant as possible." Bull's jaw ached, he was gritting his teeth so hard. "I really wish I understood you, but I don't. There's no making you happy."

"Sure there is," she said pleasantly. "Find a nice girl and get married."

Bull snapped his head around to her. "Right," he scoffed, trying to keep from yelling at her. "Make some girl and myself unhappy so you can be happy. I don't think so. You just need to get it through your bleached head that I'm not going to do that. I've done things in my life I'm not proud of, but the people I hurt deserved it. Some innocent girl does not deserve to spend the rest of her life with a man who does not and will never love her."

"I thought the military would have worked all that c.r.a.p out of you," she spat.

"The military taught me the meaning of honor and integrity, two things you know very little about." Bull's hands began to ache and he pulled them away from the steering wheel. His mother turned away and looked out the window. "You can be as high and mighty as you like, but I don't need someone to take care of me and I'm not the one who's gone through six husbands hoping to find one who'll put up with me for more than two years."

"You don't need anyone," she countered softly, and Bull knew she was close to tears. That was the one thing he could not stand, so he closed his mouth and started the engine. He backed out of the s.p.a.ce and drove toward home. Neither he nor his mother said a single word. Bull pulled into the drive and up to the garage door. He turned off the engine. Closing his eyes, he waited to see if she'd say anything.

"I'm sorry I'm such an awful mother."

Bull rolled his eyes, but he didn't rise to the bait. "You'd be a lot more pleasant to have around if you listened and didn't act as though you were ent.i.tled to run my life." The implication hung in the air that she could barely run her own life, let alone anyone else's. He got out of the car and waited while she opened the door and got out. She was obviously hurt, but Bull was determined not to back down. They'd had similar confrontations and conversations every time she visited. What never ceased to amaze Bull was the fact that his mother loved the boys at the club. She had no problem with gay people. What she didn't like was having a gay son.

"But I'm your mother," she said, falling back to her old standby.

"Yes, and I'm an adult, able to make my own decisions. So you need to make an effort to realize that at this point in my life, I don't need you. I'm grown and don't need my mother any longer. I haven't needed you in my life for a long time. Therefore, if you hope to have a place in my life at all, it's going to have to be because I want want you to, not because I need you." you to, not because I need you."

She whipped her head around toward him. "You don't mean that."

"Of course I do. Just because you're my mother doesn't guarantee you a place in my life."

"But you owe me," she said.

Bull squared his shoulders and stared her straight in the eyes. "I owe you nothing. After Dad died, you weren't around very much, let alone the mother I needed. Why do you think I left home and went into the service right after graduation? Oh, and while we're at it, why do you think I stayed away for almost three years? I took my leave and saw the world, but I rarely saw you." She faltered and reached for the car for support. "I'm sorry if this hurts you, but it's the truth. You haven't been there for me in any way in years. But I've done right by you. So now it's your turn. You need to make a choice about whether we have a relationship at all." Bull turned and walked away.

He reached the door to the house before his mother said a word. "Do you have any fond memories of me?" she asked.

"Yes," Bull said and pulled open the door. "They're from a long time ago, but there were way too many walks home from school because you forgot to pick me up or coming home to find you pa.s.sed out drunk on the sofa. And let's not forget the parade of stepfathers."

His mother swallowed. "They weren't all bad," she said.

"No, they weren't. But the good ones figured you out eventually and left. The others hung around until you left them. So maybe if you want to be treated better and cared about, you should start with the person in the mirror." Bull held the door and waited for her to walk inside. He closed and locked the door behind them and walked silently to the kitchen. He poured his single evening scotch and sat in his chair, ice tinkling as he slowly sipped from the gla.s.s. When she joined him, Bull got up and poured her half a gla.s.s of white wine before putting the bottle away. Then he sat back down and closed his eyes, ignoring the silent tension in the room. "I still miss Dad," he confessed.

"Me too," his mother said. "Every single day." He watched her tip back the gla.s.s and then pause before taking a sip instead. "More than anything I want him back."

Bull finished his scotch and set the empty gla.s.s on the small table next to him. "I'm the only part of Dad there is." He'd been thinking a lot about that lately. "I've spent the past sixteen years trying to figure out why he had to die, and I've spent fourteen of those years hating you for trying to forget him. The stepdads knew what you were doing-at least, Roger did. He told me after you split up. He was the best of them all-a good, kind man. I wasn't able to see it then, but I can now." Bull shifted in his chair. "I still talk to him. He calls or I call every few months just to talk."

"Does he ask about me?"

"No. That's the agreement. We don't talk about you because you broke his heart. I think he really loved you, and I think it hurt when he figured out he was just a subst.i.tute." Bull stood up, deciding it was time to go to bed. He'd had enough emotion and drama to last him for months. "He's getting married again in a few months, and he asked me to the wedding." Bull stepped over to his mother and took the empty gla.s.s she was cradling in her hands. "Go on to bed. You've got to be tired." He lightly touched her shoulder and then took the gla.s.s into the kitchen.

"Where is he getting married?"

"The wedding is in North Carolina," Bull explained. He didn't tell her that he'd not only been invited, but Roger had shocked him and said he wanted Bull to be his best man. Or more accurately, he'd said he'd wanted his son to act as best man. Bull thought about that conversation as he walked down the small hallway to his bedroom. That day on the phone had been the first time he'd cried over anything since his father had died. And there was no way he would tell a living soul. "In late August," he added. Roger and Bull's mother had divorced about eight years ago now, and Bull was pleased to see Roger move on with his life. "Are you going to bed?"

She nodded and got up from the chair. Bull paused and waited until she was in the guest room before checking all the doors and turning out the lights. Then he went to his room and got undressed and ready for bed. His head spun with all the surprises and theatrics of the past few hours. Life was so much easier when all he had to do was look menacing. People stayed out of his way, behaved, and there were no messy emotional complications.

As soon as he turned out the light and closed his eyes, the single reason why he was pleased things didn't always work out that way flashed through his mind. Bull smiled as he thought about Zach and how amazing he'd felt in his arms. On the days he didn't work, Bull always had trouble falling to sleep. He knew he should simply stay up until three and then try to go to bed. That was what he normally did. But his mother was in bed, and if he rambled around the house, he'd only keep her awake. At nearly midnight, he called Harry, who told him everything was fine. The club was having a normal Thursday night, busier than the other weekday nights, but nothing like Friday and Sat.u.r.day. "Everything is fine, there's no need to worry," Harry told him. "How did your date go?" The beat of the music wafted in from behind Harry.

"It was fine until my mother showed up," Bull explained.

"Ouch," Harry told him. "Wait, you didn't say your mother was coming."

"I didn't know. She drove up from Florida without telling me," Bull whispered. "Zach and I were sitting in the backyard, getting to know one another, about to open a bottle of wine, when there she was in all her disapproving glory." Bull ran his hand over his head and down his face. "She was rude to Zach and insistent as h.e.l.l. We ended up taking her somewhere so she could eat, and then I took Zach home."

"Let me guess: after you left Zach, you and your mom had one h.e.l.l of a fight," Harry said.

"You can quit with the grin I know you're sporting right now. And yeah, we had a fight of sorts. I did most of the talking. I don't know if it did any good, but she was quite subdued when she went to bed." Bull listened for any sounds in the house, but everything outside his room was quiet.

"That must have made you feel better." Harry had heard a lot of Bull's stories about his mother, and he'd fielded more than his fair share of Bull's grumpiness after he'd spoken with her.

"It really didn't," Bull said. "I always thought letting her have it would feel good. But it was just sad. She's my mother, and neither of us gives enough of a c.r.a.p about the other to care how we feel. She appeared on my doorstep, full of her usual self-importance and ent.i.tlement. I let her have it because...."

"Jesus," Harry said, and this time Bull knew he was grinning. "That's the most you've talked about your feelings in four years. Say, would you put the real Bull on the line? I want to talk to him."

"Smarta.s.s," Bull muttered.

"Thank G.o.d. I was beginning to wonder if something had happened to you." Harry chuckled. "Go on to bed and don't concern yourself with anything here. I'll see you tomorrow night, and don't worry about your mother. They're all a pain, but you only get one. So talk to her in the morning and see if you can't work the s.h.i.t out between you. And try not to growl too many times while you're at it." Harry laughed and disconnected the call.

Bull placed the phone on the nightstand and then turned off the light. He stared up into the darkness, wondering what he was going to do about his mother. Those thoughts fell away fairly quickly, and he drifted off to sleep thinking of Zach.

THE NEXT NEXT two days were a jumble of logistics: trying to get his mother where she wanted to go, despite her having her own car; working; and then attempting to get enough sleep. He couldn't help notice the two fresh wine bottles in the trash each night when he got home. Hopefully he would be able to get his mother on her way home in the next day or so. It was well after noon on Sunday when his phone woke him up. He searched for it without opening his eyes and nearly knocked it onto the floor. "h.e.l.lo." two days were a jumble of logistics: trying to get his mother where she wanted to go, despite her having her own car; working; and then attempting to get enough sleep. He couldn't help notice the two fresh wine bottles in the trash each night when he got home. Hopefully he would be able to get his mother on her way home in the next day or so. It was well after noon on Sunday when his phone woke him up. He searched for it without opening his eyes and nearly knocked it onto the floor. "h.e.l.lo."

"Gosh," Zach said. "I figured it was late enough that I wouldn't wake you."

"It's okay," Bull said as he cracked his eyes open and glanced at the clock. He yawned. "I should be getting up. My mother has had the run of the house for hours, and Lord knows what I'm going to find." He sat up and let the covers pool on his lap. "I'm glad you called." He'd been wondering if he and his mother had managed to scare Zach away.

"I wasn't sure how busy you'd be with your mother there." Zach sounded nervous. "She didn't like me."

"It wasn't you. My mother's delusional sometimes." Bull stretched his legs and thought about getting up and dressed, but he was too d.a.m.ned comfortable, and listening to Zach's voice had certain parts of him very awake. Bull slid his hand under the sheet and along his shaft. "Like I said, I'm glad you called." And getting happier by the moment.

"I didn't know if you might want to have lunch or something," Zach said a little nervously. "Just you and me," he added, and Bull chuckled.

"I would. Mom is supposed to be spending the afternoon with some old friends." Bull pulled his hand away from his d.i.c.k when he heard sounds in the other part of the house. "I could pick you up in an hour, if you like."

"Yeah, that would work," Zach agreed. "I'll see you then." They ended the call, and Bull got out of bed, stretching his back and neck. He thought about taking a shower, but that would only lead to him using the soap to relieve the pressure, and Bull really hoped that after they had lunch, dessert would be offered. He shaved and cleaned up before dressing and padding out to see what his mother was up to.

She met him in the living room, and his eyes widened when he saw her. "You look very nice." Her simple dark-blue dress highlighted her eyes.

"I'm hoping a change to the outside will help with the inside," she explained and picked up her purse from the sofa. "Darlene and I are planning to have dinner, so I'll be back later this evening." She seemed energetic and actually smiled.

"Are you okay?" Bull asked.

"Never better. I had some time to think, and I realized I was turning into my mother." Her smile slipped from her face. "While you were at work, I didn't have much to do, so I looked around and saw the picture you have hanging in the hallway. I thought it was an old picture of me at first, and then I realized it was Mother. I look just like her. Then it hit me that I was acting like her too. She was bitter and obnoxious after Daddy died. I must have latched on to that and run with it." She reached out and stroked his cheek. Bull almost stepped away. He couldn't remember the last time she'd touched him with tenderness. "You were right the other day. I avoided my mom after I got married because she was miserable to be around." His mother sighed. "I can't say I can change overnight, but I'm going to try to be more pleasant."

"Okay," Bull said.

His mother checked her watch and then headed for the door. "I'll see you tonight. Have fun," she said and left the house.

Bull stared after her, wondering what in h.e.l.l had just happened. Maybe his mother had been visited by the ghosts of mothers from h.e.l.l-past, present, and future. Bull didn't move for a while, shocked into inaction until his stomach rumbled and he remembered his appointment with Zach. Then he sprang into action and got ready to leave. He drove to Zach's and parked outside his building. Zach must have been watching, because he bounded out of the brick building and down the walk to Bull's car.

"I figured you'd be hungry," Zach said as he slid into the pa.s.senger seat.

"I am," Bull said and leaned over to Zach. Food could wait. He tugged him into a kiss that quickly heated. The seats crunched softly as they moved closer to each other. When they separated, Zach was flushed and his breathing shallow. He sat back in the seat, and Bull glanced down and noticed the tent in his pants. Zach shifted and turned away slightly, and Bull knew he'd been caught looking. Not that he cared, but Zach blushed even harder. "Let's get some lunch."

Zach opened his mouth to say something but ended up just nodding. Bull drove to a brewpub that had great burgers and made the best beer in town. Once they were seated and the server had provided them with water while they looked over the beer menu, Zach began the conversation. "So, how was your mother's visit so far?"

Bull shrugged. He wasn't ready to count today's behavior as a permanent change. Not yet.

"Your mother's quite.... It was interesting to meet her, and...." Zach swallowed. "She seemed...." He was obviously searching for something nice to say and kept coming up short.

"There are times when my mother puts the b.i.t.c.h in obituary," Bull said, and Zach howled, snorting water out of his nose. Bull reached for some napkins and helped him clean up the mess. "I heard that once from one of the drag queens and I thought it appropriate in this case. Are you okay?"

Zach nodded, gasped, and looked like he was still trying to contain his laughter. "Warn a guy next time, will ya?" he said, wiping his face and then turning away to blow his nose. Then he turned back and began to laugh again. Their server took their drink orders, and after they both requested a beer, the server carded Zach and then hurried away.

"I wish they'd stop carding me," Zach said as he put his license away.

"Consider it a compliment. No one has carded me in years," Bull told him.

"No one would dare," Zach said and fell into a fit of giggles. Bull glared at him. "Come on, you're huge, bald, and obviously no kid." Zach took a gulp of his beer. "I, on the other hand, look about twelve."

"No, you don't," Bull whispered deeply and saw Zach shiver. "You're...." Bull searched for the right word. The ones he usually used to describe guys didn't seem to fit. Not that Zach wasn't hot and s.e.xy, because he was. But those terms seemed too shallow. Zach was much more than that. "Perfect," slipped past his lips.

Zach scoffed and rolled his eyes. "I certainly am not."

"See, that's why you're perfect. You're attractive but don't stand around waiting for everyone to look at you. You're sweet and kind, but not sugary. That's what makes you so wonderful." G.o.d, he was actually gushing a little. He never gushed. He turned away and growled at himself so he'd feel better.

"I'm just me," Zach said. "If you want to talk hot, then you should look in a mirror." Zach tried to cover his blush with his gla.s.s but it didn't work. Bull saw it and smiled.

"You don't have to be embarra.s.sed," Bull said. That blush was way too cute.

Their server returned and they ordered lunch. Once the server left, Zach seemed more comfortable. "How is everything going at work?" Zach asked.

"It's the same. People are getting sneakier, and Sat.u.r.day night I caught one of the bartenders trying to let someone into the back door of the club. At first I figured it was just a friend, so I watched the guy, but then I kicked his a.s.s out when I saw him dealing. Then I fired the bartender."

"How did you know who let the guy in?"

"Cameras," Bull said. "I installed a tiny one in the back that activates when the door is opened. Most of the time the camera films the guys taking out the trash. Didn't take us long to figure it out, though. How's work for you?"

"Same as always. I have made progress with the comic book, though. I think it's going to be really cool," Zach said. "I'll show it to you once I have the story all laid out. Then you can tell me what you think."

"I still can't believe you turned me into a comic book hero," Bull said, unable to suppress a smile. He'd been smiling a lot more in the past week.

"Why not? You inspired me," Zach said.

The server brought their lunches, and they both dug in. Zach was obviously hungry, because he ate almost as ravenously as Bull. They talked a little, but mostly they chowed down. Bull had observed one very basic difference between men and women. As a kid, he'd gone out with his mother and her friends a few times. The ladies would order and talk, eating their food over a full hour. Not any of the guys he knew. When you put food in front of them, their heads lowered, and conversation generally ceased or descended to short questions with even shorter answers.

"I didn't realize how hungry I was," Zach told Bull after they'd both nearly cleaned their plates.

"I was starving. Last night was busy as h.e.l.l, and I didn't get a chance to grab any sort of snack. Once I got home, I was too tired to cook."

Their server stopped by the table and asked if they'd like another beer. Bull declined because he had to drive. He knew he could safely have another, but he didn't want to risk it. They both switched to soda and finished their lunches.

Zach sat back in the chair, his eyes half-closed, patting his belly. "Dang, I'm full," he said. "I don't think I'll be able to eat a thing for at least two hours." He grinned. "My mother always said I was part hummingbird because I eat all the time and run it off."

"I can see that," Bull said. "I used to be that way, but I'm not as active now, so I watch what I eat. Without a lot of intense activity, I can really pack on the weight." He patted his belly and noticed Zach's gaze following the movement of his hand. Their server returned and asked if they wanted dessert. When they both declined, he left the check. Zach reached for it and opened his wallet. "I can get that," Bull said.