Chapter 3
He felt even more grumpy as he entered the studio the next day. He already had a pounding headache, and he hadn’t even asked Farley yet. He scowled as he walked into the communal break room to get a cup of coffee, because his nemesis was already there sprawled on the couch. Farley was wearing a…well, the only word for it was blouse. It had flowers all over it.
And dear God, he was wearing Capri pants! Blindingly white Capri pants, along with hemp sandals. An orchid was sitting behind his left ear, and dozens of strings of beads and bangles drooped around his neck. All he needed was a big purse with a little dog in it, a large pair of sunglasses, and a wide-brimmed straw hat to be a female retiree from Florida. His blue eyes lit up when he saw Miles enter the room. “Miles!” he yelped, springing to his feet like a Thompson’s gazelle. “Good morning!”
“Hello, Farley,” he managed to say through gritted teeth, being as polite as he possibly could.
The blonde bounced over to him. “It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” he said perkily.
Miles wanted to snap: “It was,” but seeing as how he had to ask Farley for a favor he restrained himself with an effort. Instead all he said aloud was: “Yes. Farley, I have something to ask you.”
The weatherman looked surprised. “You want to ask me something?” he repeated.
Miles sighed internally. “Yes,” he said again.
“What is it, Miles?” Farley asked eagerly.
“My parents are having their thirtieth weeding anniversary party next weekend. I was wondering…if you’d like to go as my guest,” Miles said, although it was a wonder he actually managed to get the whole sentence out of his mouth. His teeth snapped shut on the last word, as he braced himself for Hurricane Farley.
And he was right, of course. Farley’s eyes got big and he squealed in delight. “You want me to go with you! Miles, that’s wonderful! Of course I’ll go!” he cried ecstatically, clapping his hands together.
Miles sighed aloud this time. “Of course you will,” he said glumly. “Of course you will.”
Miles stared in horror when Farley got into his car. The weatherman had chosen to wear a…colorful…outfit for his parents’ wedding anniversary party, to say the least! Actually, it sort of looked like one of those suits that rich English people wore to weddings or to Ascot. That might have been tolerable, if it hadn’t been done in pastels! Farley looked like a deranged Easter egg in the powder blue jacket with a pink vest underneath, and a shirt that was decidedly lacey and flowing. The shirt even had a cravat! A stick pin made of little diamonds formed into the petals of a flower was pinned at the front of the cravat. And he wore kid gloves. Pale yellow kid gloves. Also pale yellow leather high-heeled boots. He looked like Liberace on crack.
Miles could barely speak through his clenched teeth. “You’re wearing that?” he said incredulously, feeling a pounding headache developing behind his eyes already.
Farley looked down innocently at his clothes. “What? Is it wrong for a garden party?” he asked. “It’s one of my few formal outfits.”
Miles reached up to rub at his temple. But if he asked Farley to change, he knew that this would only cause the weatherman to don some fresh horror, and they’d probably end up being late to the party. “Its fine,” he choked, starting the engine of his car.
Farley was practically bouncing on his seat. “I can’t wait to meet your parents, Miles!” he cried eagerly. “They must be pretty great people to have had and raised you.”
Miles gave him a wall-eyed look over this statement but said nothing. He was often perplexed by Farley’s attitude toward him - the weatherman seemed to think that Miles was some great guy, and didn’t seem to see the fact that Miles loathed him at all. He was leaning toward brain damage in his explanation for Farley’s attitude, although drugs were also on his short list. He shook his head slightly as he drove away from the curb in front of Farley’s apartment building, dreading the hour’s drive up to his parents’ place.
They made it, but Miles was never sure afterward just how they had. Farley chattered on the entire time, interspersing his verbal nonsense with that high-pitched giggling that drove Miles mad. His urge to jerk the wheel into a bridge abutment was strong, and many times he had to lock his fingers tightly over the wheel so as not to give into that almost overwhelming urge. He was squinting from the pain of a massive headache by the time he pulled into his parents’ driveway and parked behind the vehicles already there. He slumped forward and pressed his fingers to his skull as he said tonelessly: “We’re here.”
“Okay! Miles, are you all right?” Farley asked in concern, and he felt slender fingers run over his shoulder.
“I’m fine.” he ground out. “Just tired from the drive.” Which was true - although he was actually tired from being trapped in the same car with Farley for over an hour…
“Oh. Well, we should go in and get you something to drink. And something to eat, you might have low blood sugar,” Farley said in concern.
“Of course.” he got out of the car, feeling that his neck and shoulder muscles were like boards under his suit jacket. He rolled his shoulders to try to relax them even a little, while Farley leapt out of the passengers’ side and stood looking at the house that he’d been raised in. “It’s pretty!” he exclaimed happily. “I love the porch! I bet your mother likes to come and sit out on it in the evenings so that she can see her flowers,” he pointed to the neat flowerbeds that edged the walks.
“Actually, she does,” Miles agreed, wondering how he’d guessed that.
“I knew it! Its what I’d do, if I had a house like this,” Farley explained, his eyes roving over the neat white façade with the blue shutters and the window boxes.
Miles blinked but didn’t know what to say. Farley whirled around. “Come on! You have to introduce me to your parents! I can’t wait to meet them,” he said happily, bouncing away down the sidewalk with his usual verve and energy.
Miles followed more slowly, wondering desperately just what he’d gotten himself into. Dear God, why had he listened to Melanie? Just how crazy was he, to bring FARLEY KONINGER to meet his parents! Especially his mother. He wasn’t worried that she’d dislike Farley - the complete opposite, in fact. He knew that she’d love the weatherman, that they’d get along like two peas in a pod. And that didn’t bode well for him where future family gatherings were concerned; just how many would he have to drag Farley to and pretend that the total irritant was his boyfriend instead of just his co-worker?
Farley was waiting for him on the porch. He turned the handle and pushed the door inward, walking into the hallway beyond. Voices and other sounds led him toward the open back door, because the party was being held in the back garden. Farley was at his heels the entire time, trying to peer around him like an interested puppy. A person entered the house wearing the black and white of a catering company, and carrying a tray of hors d’oeuvres. Her eyes widened a little at the sight of them, and she gasped. Clearly she knew who they were.
Farley smiled in a friendly manner at the catering person, and she smiled back in that slightly goofy way of a fan interacting with a celebrity. Miles kept his own face neutral and merely nodded at her, not wanting to set off a case of babbling, autographing napkins, and having to talk to her for a half an hour while she nervously rambled on about her personal life and how much she liked their show. He’d had that happen before this, and he hadn’t enjoyed those episodes at all. He was too private a person to interact well with fans.
They emerged out into the back garden, and Miles heard a familiar voice call: “Miles!” and his mother came hurrying up to greet him, beaming.
“Mom,” he said, kissing her cheek. “Happy Anniversary.”
“Thank you! I cant believe its been thirty years already,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “And of course, your birthday is in a few weeks,” she added merrily, laughing at him. “You were kind enough to wait until we got hitched to arrive, which I thought was very nice of you.”
He grimaced faintly at this reminder that his parents had waited to get married until his mother was nine months pregnant with him.
But her eyes had gone to Farley, who was standing beside him and smiling at her. “Oh, Farley Koninger! Its so good that you came! I see you every day when I watch the show,” she told him as she took one of his slender gloved hands in her own, “And I just love the way you do the weather. And you’re pretty much never wrong! Thanks for that; that hailstorm you predicted would have ripped my bougainvilleas to shreds if I hadn’t covered them.”
“You’re welcome, Mrs. Henning,” Farley replied, beaming as well. “Its really nice to meet Miles’ mother! I can see where he gets his good looks from.”
She preened a little. “Why thank you, young man! Although wait until you see his father; the man’s handsome as the day is long. One of the reasons I married him, actually,” she added with a wink. Farley giggled.
Miles gritted his teeth together, locking them tightly so that he wouldn’t say anything at all. He’d just KNOWN that these two would hit it off right away! He really was in trouble here. “Now,” his mother was saying, tucking her hand into the crook of Farley’s arm, “Let me introduce you around. Come on, Miles,” she went on, glancing over her shoulder at her silent son.
He had no choice but to follow them as they strolled away together, chattering a mile a minute like the oldest of friends already. Miles saw round tables covered with white clothes sitting on the grass, and a long buffet table loaded with food off to one side. A string quartet was playing a pretty tune, and kids were splashing in a large blow-up pool that had been set up to entertain them. His sister detached herself from a small group of people and hurried over to him. “Hey, Miles, you made it! I see Mom’s confiscated Farley,” she added, looking over to where their mother had led Farley up to a group of her friends.
“Yes,” he said flatly. “I have no idea why I listened to you, Melanie. I should have just come alone and taken the consequences.”
She laughed. “Mom loves him already, right?” she said shrewdly.
“Of course she does. It was inevitable. They’ll be best friends before the afternoon is over, and if I tell her that I’m not dating him now she’ll pout and mope every time that I see her after this. In which case, I will go insane and have myself committed to an institution. At least it will be quiet there and they’ll give me pudding.”
Melanie began to chuckle. “Geez, Mile’s, exaggerate much? I seriously don’t see why you hate him so violently. He seems really nice and sweet. A real honey. What’s not to like?”
“Please don’t get me started,” he replied flatly. “Although if I were to get started, I’d begin with the way he dresses and move on from there.”
“Well, he’s…colorful, I’ll admit,” his sister said, eyeing Farley’s pastel morning suit with interest. “But why is that so bad?”
“He’s a walking amalgam of all of the worst clichés about gay men,” Miles told her stonily. “He gives us a bad name.”
Melanie sighed, shaking her head. “I think he’s just unique,” she told her brother. “He’s himself, and if that includes being somebody really colorful and a little crazy so what? Its better than living repressed and uptight because you’re afraid of the way that ’normal’ society would view you,” she went on delicately, shooting him a sideways look.
Miles felt his shoulders tensing again. “I’m not afraid of the way that normal society would view me,” he snapped, not bothering to pretend that he didn’t know that she was talking about him, “I just don’t care to play into the stereotypes that they already have about us. I wanted to prove that a gay newscaster could be serious about his job, but HE,” he nodded at Farley, an expression of faint disgust on his face, “Ruined all of that. Now when everyone sees me they think about him, too. They’ve associated him and me in their minds, so I might as well be the ringmaster in a gay circus rather than a newscaster. And Farley is the clown,” he added sardonically.
Melanie patted his arm in a commiserating way. “I’m sorry, bro,” she said. “But Farley doesn’t mean any harm, you know that. And there are far worse thing that he could be than really, REALLY flamboyant. Why not give him a break? I think it would be better for you if you did, since you don’t want to have a stroke or high blood pressure before you’re thirty-five. You just have to learn to relax where he’s concerned.”
He knew that she was right, but he simply didn’t know HOW. Every time he saw Farley his blood pressure shot up and a tic started beside his eye. It was an automatic reaction. He didn’t know how to overcome it. He’d never been the sort of person to mediate or do yoga or sip chamomile tea. Maybe he’d take up boxing or something. Because he could pretend that the punching bag was Farley, and he could take out his frustrations on it to his heart’s consent. Hmm, not a bad idea. He’d look into it come Monday. For now, he simply had to endure his parent’s anniversary party and hope he made it through the day without losing his temper entirely or having a fit of apoplexy.
“Miles!” Farley cried, attaching himself to the newscaster’s arm like a limpet. “Your parents are wonderful! And your dad is so handsome. A real silver fox,” he said. “If I were into older guys…” he pursed his lips and let forth a wolf whistle of appreciation.
Miles gritted his teeth. “I’m sure that Dad would be really flattered,” he said sourly.
Farley grinned up at him. “But I still think that you’re even better-looking, Miles,” he said earnestly, patting his arm with a gloved hand.
He fought not to roll his eyes. Just then, his sister came up to them. “Hi, Miles, Mr. Koninger! I’m Melanie, Miles’ sister,” she added, holding out her hand.
Fakery took a hold of it and beamed at her. “Nice to meet you!” he chirped. “I’m Farley. Mr. Koninger is my dad.”
“I watch the show every day,” she told him. “Your weather forecasts are great. And I love the costumes you wear. Some of them are so cute!”
Farley was practically sparkling by now. “I love to wear costumes! Its so much fun,” he replied happily.
She nodded. “Definitely. Wish I could wear costumes to work. It’d make the day so much better. Anyway, good job keeping my brother in line,” she said with a wink.
He giggled. “Miles is an awesome newscaster. I mean, he never makes mistakes on air,” he said with an adoring look at the scowling man standing next to him.
“Well, he’s always been a perfectionist. Now, if only he had a sense of humor,” Melanie teased with a sparkling look of her own at her brother.
Farley nodded like a bobble head doll. “I’ve tried to get him to relax,” he confessed to Melanie.
“I’m sure you have. But I can think of one sure-fire way to get him to relax,” Melanie remarked with an evil look for her sibling.
He frowned horribly at her as Farley turned a little pink. “Well, that’s true,” Farley said. “Miles…” he said with a hopeful look at the newscaster.
Okay, this was enough! “I’m going to talk to Mom and Dad,” he said stiffly, and walked away without another word.
He heard his sister’s light laughter behind him, and his back muscles tensed. Damn her! Egging Farley on like that, as if this whole situation wasn’t already bad enough! He strode over to where his parents were talking to their friends. His father smiled at him. “Hey, son. Glad you could make it. By the way, that Farley guy is really sweet. Janice has told me a lot about him because she watches your show…” he went on, patting his wife’s hand lovingly. “And she was right. He’s great. Glad to see that you’re finally dating somebody that I really like. No offense, but that Ross guy was a pain-in-the-you-know-what…”
Miles felt his temperature rising precipitously. Not only at his father’s assumption that he was dating Farley, but his disparaging words about Miles’ former boyfriend. Okay, maybe Ross hadn’t been the best person in the world, but that didn’t give his father the right to speak about him that way. He spoke, unable to control himself any longer. Months of having to put up with Farley, combined with the fact that his whole family approved of the weatherman and thought that Miles was actually dating him…it was too much!
“Dad, I have something to say,” he growled angrily.
“What is it, Miles?” his mother asked, looking concerned.
“First of all, I am NOT dating Farley! Melanie told me that you guys think that he’s my boyfriend, so I invited him along today to make you happy. But damn it, I have had enough! There is no way in hell that I would date someone like that! He’s an irritating airhead who dresses like a clown and makes the rest of us who work on the program look bad! He’s ridiculous and utterly annoying, and at least Ross didn’t act like an idiot all the time! Give me some credit for taste, please!”
Shocked silence. He became aware that his parents were not staring at him, even though he’d just finished his angry tirade. They were looking over his shoulder instead, and the stricken expression on their faces made a chill run down his spine. He turned slowly, like a man stuck in a horror movie. His sister and Farley were standing just behind him, and it was clear that the weatherman had heard everything that he’d just said. The anguish in the blue eyes was like a blow to his abdomen. Farley whirled around without saying a word and ran away toward the house, and Melanie cried his name and went after him. But not before she gave her brother the look she felt he deserved. One that flayed the skin off of him from head-to-toe…
“Miles,” his mother breathed in horror. “What did you do?”
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