Dinner Party

"Yo—what the fuck is up with you and the wifey, brosky?"

"We bought a one way ticket to Splitsville, Mr. H."

Beau and Everett laugh at their parodied conversation by hyperbolizing what they think will be said at dinner tonight. They have been doing this for almost the entirety of the time that they have spent getting ready for the event. Everett is jumping into a pair of khakis after deciding against the jeans that he had on previously. Beau, on the other hand, has been dressed and ready to go, but lounges on the bed as he waits for his partner to settle on an outfit.

Knowing that Everett is a little on edge about discussing his divorce tonight with the others, Beau tries to keep things light by cracking jokes about the situation. So far, he thinks he has done a decent job of loosening him up. He has been trying to emphasize that there is nothing to be nervous about and no one is going to judge him and Charlotte for separating.

"Then you went to the airport and hopped on a direct flight to Hunk City, right?" Beau wiggles his eyebrows at Everett who seems to finally deem his outfit to be satisfactory for the occasion. He is now wearing a light sweater and khaki pants. Meanwhile, Beau had already thrown on a Henley and jeans and called it a day a while ago.

Everett smiles down at him as he walks over to Beau where he is watching him from the bed. Once he's close enough, Beau tugs Everett on top of him so he straddles his lap.

"I tried to, but I think I got on the wrong flight and ended up on Idiot Island instead." Beau throws his head back and laughs at this. He tangles their fingers together on both hands and pulls Everett in for a kiss. "Sounds like you need to put out an SOS. Lucky for you, I'm willing to send help, but for a small price." Beau smirks up at him.

Untangling one hand so he can run it through Beau's hair, Everett mirrors his smirk. "We'll see if I can pay the fee when we get back from dinner," he states before getting off of Beau and walking out the door.

"You expect me to go to dinner like this?" He hears Beau groan from the bedroom as he makes his way downstairs.

Laughing, he calls back, "There's a communication delay between Idiot Island and Hunk City—you should've taken time difference into consideration."

"Gonna end their allyship over of this," Everett hears Beau mumble as he follows him downstairs.

"You do that, oh great leader of Hunk City," Everett teases before grabbing the car keys and heading to the garage.

-

After a short drive, they pull up outside of a ranch style house. There is a wraparound porch encapsulating it and an intimidatingly tall poll proudly flying the American flag in the bright green grass of the front yard. Everett also recognizes one particular car in the Hackley's gravel driveway.

"Is that Mrs. T's ride?" Beau questions as if reading Everett's mind. Her old blue truck sits in the driveway with the sunshine gleaming on the few parts not covered in rust. "Looks like it," Everett responds with a shrug before exiting the car.

The front door opens almost immediately after Everett rings the doorbell.

"Welcome, gentlemen! Come on in, kick off your shoes and join the boys in the family room. We're so happy to have you here tonight," Mrs. Hackley greets them warmly.

The mailman's wife is a short blonde woman who always has a smile on her face. Everett recalls that she has always been kind to him, but he doesn't know much else about her. He seems to only ever run into her when she's with her husband who does most of the talking.

"Thanks for having us, Mrs. Hackley. You have a lovely home," Everett replies with a smile before taking off his shoes. Beau follows suit and holds out a bottle of wine toward the hostess. "We brought the grape juice." He gives the bottle a slap before holding it back out for Mrs. Hackley to take.

She laughs hesitantly at Beau's joke and says, "Thank you, boys. I'll go put this in the fridge for later." With that she, presumably, heads off to the kitchen.

"Maybe pretend to have some couth while we're here," Everett suggests blandly to his less-than-eloquent counterpart.

Beau gently bumps into him and grins as he responds, "Not sure what that means, but you can teach me all about it later, snook." Everett's cheeks redden as Beau winks at him and leads them over to a room where loud voices could be heard booming from where they stood at the front door.

"There they are! 'Bout time you two showed up!" It is immediately clear that Mr. Hackley is tipsy as he shouts raucously at Beau and Everett when they enter. He has a sheen of sweat coating his pink face and there are several empty bottles of beer on the table next to him along with a half full one in his hand.

His three sons and another man are also sitting around the room. The one son looks to be old enough to drink and has his own collection of beers next to him while the other two sons must be underage considering the way they try to discreetly sip on their own poorly hidden drinks. They squeeze together to fit on the couch next to the burly man taking up most of the space. He resembles Mr. Hackley, so Beau assumes that they are brothers.

"Dylan, Jake—get off the couch. You boys sit on the floor and let Charlie sit next to Uncle Phil so our guests can have the other sofa," Mr. Hackley instructs. The teenagers groan in annoyance as they slide to the ground and their older brother gets off of the love seat so he can sit next to his uncle on the couch. Beau and Everett take a seat as Mr. Hackley leans forward in his recliner to talk to them.

"Now, why don't you two have beers in your hands?" He asks in a purposefully loud voice.

Mrs. Hackley must've heard the question because she promptly brings out Miller Lite's for Beau and Everett. They thank her and she gives a strained smile before rushing back to the kitchen. "You boys gotta catch up. We started a couple hours ago so you're behind." Mr. Hackley punctuates this statement by chugging the rest of his beer and then cracking into an unopened bottle that was sat on the table next to him.

Everett knows that Mr. Hackley can be eccentric sometimes, but he hasn't seen him in this state before. Having never been in the Hackely household, Everett is starting to realize that may have been deliberate considering how outlandish the drunk man is currently acting. This loud, sweaty, demanding personality does not suit the mailman.

"It's a marathon, not a race, Mr. H," Beau tries joking with the guy to break the awkwardness he and Everett are feeling. This works as Mr. Hackley chortles in response. "Good man! I like him, Ev." Mr. Hackley points at Everett as he praises Beau. "What's your name again? Brock?" He asks Beau as he leans back in his chair again.

The teens hover over their phones, seemingly not paying attention to the conversation. Meanwhile, the uncle changes the channel trying to find something to watch on TV as the oldest son looks on. They never introduced themselves to Beau and Mr. Hackley doesn't appear to care to initiate any sort of greeting between them.

"It's Beau," he corrects him.

Taking another swig of his beer, Mr. Hackley points at him with the same hand holding the neck of the bottle. "I like you, Beau. What football team do you root for?"

"Buckeyes for college football and Steelers for the NFL. Can't bring myself to like a team from Cleveland or Cinci," Beau says while throwing an arm over the back of the sofa. It's not like he put his arm over Everett's shoulders, but he feels more at ease with Beau getting closer to him, nonetheless.

Beau's answer seems to draw interest from the others in the room.

One of the boys on the ground grins at Beau as he speaks, "Sick—we need more black and yellow fans in this town." Beau offers him a smile as he responds, "Steelers nation is worldwide, brother."

Uncle Phil chimes in with his gruff voice. "Draft is coming up. Who you think we're getting?"

"Well, obviously we need a center-" All eyes are on Beau as he theorizes who the Steelers will get in the upcoming draft. They bounce ideas off of each other and bring up players Everett has never heard of as if they are household names. All in all, he's just happy the atmosphere feels a lot less uncomfortable than it previously did when he and Beau first joined them in the family room.

Eventually, Beau notices that Everett hasn't said anything during the in-depth football conversation.

Eyeing Everett, Beau tries to bring him into the discussion. "What about you, sn—bud?" Beau quickly corrects himself, eyes widening in fear that he almost gave away their relationship status to the Hackley's. Everett has to muffle his laughter at the thought of Beau calling him by his cheesy nickname in front of the hypermasculine men.

"I don't watch a lot of sports. I'm afraid I can't weigh in on this conversation," he breaks the news to his partner who is clearly very passionate about the topic. Beau frowns at him sincerely which makes Everett laugh again. He wants to reach out and smooth the crease that formed between Beau's eyebrows, but thinks better of it.

Mr. Hackley jumps in before Beau can respond. "You might as well join the women in the kitchen then, Ev," he slurs. The shitty joke lands for the Hackley family as the sons and uncle laugh heartily at the comment. Beau's frown transforms into a glare at this. Everett subtly touches his leg and shakes his head in hopes that he won't say whatever stupid thing he was planning on saying in his defense.

After the laughter dies down, Mr. Hackley returns his attention to Beau. "Tell me, son. You getting sugar from any of the local girls around here?"

Beau's jaw is clenched as he responds, "No, sir."

"Why is that? You're the talk of the town, from what I heard," Mr. Hackley informs him with a sleazy smile.

"Yeah—all the girls around here are running their mouths about you," the youngest boy supplies nosily. Mr. Hackley laughs at this, but Beau looks unamused and pale all of a sudden. Everett runs a discreet finger down the side of his leg, causing Beau to shake himself out of whatever stupor he was in.

He seems to relax a bit and takes a deep breath before replying, "I didn't know that was happening. Sorry to steal the spotlight, boys." Beau tries to joke with the men in the room. "I just got here, though, so I probably won't be making any moves anytime soon."

"Seems like a missed opportunity to me. I say play the field before you get anchored down like the rest of us old folk," Mr. Hackley advises. Everett has a feeling that it's Mrs. Hackley who is the one anchored down in their relationship.

Speaking of Mrs. Hackley, they suddenly hear her call from the kitchen. "Boys! Dinner is ready, come eat!"

-

The Hackley's pushed their circular table from the kitchen against their rectangular dining room table to make sure there is a place for everyone to sit. Beau sits next to Everett and across from Mrs. T at the rectangular table. Mrs. Hackley, her daughter, Mrs. T and Mrs. T's granddaughter are the ones who prepared the meal and set the table.

The young girls look like preteens, but seem infinitely more well-behaved than the Hackley boys. Everett laughs to himself when he notices both girls seem flustered by Beau's presence. Maybe the Hackley men were onto something earlier regarding Beau being a hot topic with the women and girls of Sinting.

Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, corn, gravy and much more are passed around the table. Once everyone has served themselves, Mr. Hackley asks everyone to join hands and bow their heads in prayer as he messily leads everyone through it.

"Bless us *hiccup*, O Lord, and these, Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty. Through *hiccup* Christ, our Lord. Amen."

Everett sees Mrs. Hackley subtly shake her head in disdain at her drunken husband's slurred prayer. Everyone makes the sign of the cross over their chests before digging into the food.

Small talk breaks out at different parts of the table. Mrs. T tells Mrs. Hackley about what a wonderful job Beau has been doing at the bookstore. Everett beams in pride as she elaborates on how much he helps her throughout the day and how her back has been hurting less now that Beau is there to help with a lot of the manual labor.

"Setting up those darn displays used to be the bane of my existence, but this young man has been such a blessing. He helps with the displays and organizes all of the shelves." She smiles and reaches across the table to pat Beau on the arm. He gives her a tight lipped smile in return and thanks her before continuing to eat his meal.

All is well until Mr. Hackley calls to Everett from where he sits at the head of the rectangular table.

"So, Ev. I hear you and Charlotte are divorcing," he says conversationally. Everett would almost prefer he ask a direct question rather than leaving the statement open ended the way he did. He feels Beau tense next to him again.

Clearing his throat, Everett offers a simple response. "That's right." He doesn't say anything else about it. If they want to know, then they're going to have to ask him for the specifics.

"Well, what went wrong? Or should I say, what went right? I could use a few tips and tricks myself." The mailman laughs at his own joke.

"We wanted different things and didn't communicate it well before getting married. I still love and respect Charlotte and we're going through an amiable divorce. That's all." Everett looks him in the eyes as he says it. He's proud of himself for not shying away from the confrontation, but he also feels sick to his stomach. If he eats one more thing, it'll probably come right back up.

Mrs. Hackley intervenes before her husband can get another word in. "We're very sorry about the divorce, Ev. It's great to hear that you and Charlotte are being so mature about it, though. We wish you all the best and are here if you need anything, of course."

Everett gives her a relieved smile. That woman is definitely too good for her husband.

"Yes, we're proud of the way that you're handling everything, Ev. I'm also here if you need anything at all," Mrs. T adds on. Her warm smile provides him with the much needed comfort that he has craved all night.

Before he can thank them, Mrs. T continues, "Even if you just need to talk about something, then know that I am here for you. Whether that be the divorce, your job or any new relationships that come up-" Everett notices how she pauses slightly and makes meaningful eye contact. He now sees why Beau is convinced that she knows about their relationship. He believes it as well.

"Thank you, both. I really appreciate it," he says sincerely to the two women at the table.

"You better keep an eye out, boy," Mr. Hackley warns. "She'll rob you blind if you play too nice with her during the divorce. Females can be cruel, cruel creatures during these processes and the system always sides with them."

Everett is disgusted by this sentiment, but doesn't know how to respond. Luckily, Mrs. T steps in again. "Oh, hush. Sometimes two people aren't meant to be together, but are able to maintain a successful friendship after separating. I have full faith in them to communicate amicably throughout the process like the adults that they are. I'm sure once everything is settled, there may even be chance for them to reunite under better circumstances, perhaps with partners that better suit their needs."

"Sounds like a load of horse shit to me."

"I'm sure it does, Cynical Sal."

As Mrs. T and Mr. Hackley go back and forth, Everett makes eye contact with Beau. He feels bad seeing the guy look so spooked. He's sure the whole night has been overwhelming for Beau, but Mrs. T hinting that she knows about them in front of everyone must've sent him over the edge. Everett wishes people knowing about their relationship didn't set Beau off as easily at does, but he supposes that may be something that can only be fixed with time.