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Phillip crossed the room again in a handful of steps, fingers tangled in his hair and muttering to himself. Phee hugged Fran, huddled against her on the bed, and watched as Clyde stepped out of the bathroom and blocked Phillip’s path as he turned around to do it again. “Hey, you okay? Ain’t gotta do this, you know. Don’t have to go, or you can go alone, or with Fran or Phee or both of ‘em. Ain’t none of us gonna be upset about it. We’re here for you.”
Phillip took a deep breath and nodded, hair falling messily over his forehead, and he didn’t reach out but he didn’t resist when Clyde pulled him in, either. Fran relaxed against Phee’s side, and they looked at each other before slipping from the bed to pad over and weave themselves into the embrace as well, all of them surrounding Phillip. “I’m not sure I’ll be any good to you, but I’ll go,” Fran said softly, and Phee gave her a little squeeze of encouragement. Fran had settled in pretty well, and they were all discovering she was a little more…assertive…than even she had realized, but this…
“Please come with me,” Phillip said, voice too small, and it hurt a little to hear it, even as he relaxed against Clyde and repositioned to wrap his arms around Phee and Fran as well.
“Wash your face, Pup,” Clyde said, giving him a light push towards the bathroom. “And you got five minutes for your hair. More’n that and we ain’t gonna make it.”
They all knew the moment Phillip really saw his reflection and the mess he’d made of his hair because he started swearing and rattling through the various products cluttering the counter. Fran shook her head and followed their distressed partner, her presence always at least somewhat calming him to in a way that was unique among them. Phee turned in Clyde’s arms, leaning back against his chest, and her husband rested his chin atop her head as they watched Phillip’s antics. She didn’t need to see his face to know Clyde was smiling.
They piled into the rental car only about fifteen minutes later than they were supposed to leave, Phee carefully navigating turns as Phillip gave the directions from the backseat, one arm around Fran who had gamely agreed to sit in the middle seat instead of behind Clyde, and not just because the passenger seat was slid all the way back.
Phillip was unusually tense and nervous about it all.
It actually helped distract the rest of them from their own anxiety about meeting most of his family for the first time. If they were taking care of Phillip, they didn’t have time to get all wrapped up in their own worry.
“That one,” Phillip said. “The balloons…shit, there’s no parking. Fuck, fuck, fuck, my fault, I mmph!” Phee grinned as she glanced in the rear view to see Fran covering his mouth, whispering to him, and then lightly biting his earlobe. After a moment Phillip cleared his throat. “Across the street, that one,” he mumbled, leaning around the seat and pointing. “Linda’s house, let everyone out and I’ll park there for now.”
“It’s across the street, Pup, I think we can manage the walk.”
“Whatever you say, Daddy.”
Clyde frowned. “Phillip,” he said, tone warning, and the other man laughed. It was a good sound, even if it wasn’t quite right.
Still, Phee couldn’t help being concerned. Phillip didn’t really test Clyde that way, not anymore. She glanced over at Clyde, and it was clear he’d noticed as well. Phillip was far more stressed than he was letting on.
Maybe this hadn’t been a good idea after all. Too soon. Too much at once.
“Phee?”
Clyde’s voice was gentle, careful.
“I—what?”
Phillip and Fran were out of the car, and Clyde had his door open, one foot already out. He frowned. “You coming?”
She shook her head, eyes burning as her vision got a little wavery. Clyde leaned across the center console. “Darlin’ what’s wrong?”
She shook her head again, but a tear spilled out and rolled down her cheek.
“Aw, honey,” he rumbled in close to her ear and she leaned against his shoulder, just for a moment.
The day—the whole trip—was about Phillip, but…
“What if they don’t like me?” she whispered, then cringed at her own words.
“What’s not to like? ‘Sides, if anything it will be me they take issue with.”
She scoffed, lifted her head to glare and tell him what she really thought of that, but it hit her all at once. The realization. She laughed weakly and leaned forward, the seat belt cutting a bit as she rested her forehead on the steering wheel and groaned.
“Been so focused on Phillip I maybe forgot to worry over the rest of us.” She could hear it in Clyde’s voice, knew he was probably kicking himself over it.
“Together,” she said softly.
“Yeah, baby. Together.”
Clyde got out of the rental car and circled around while Phee took a moment to wipe her eyes and check that the few tears hadn’t mussed her admittedly minimal make up, but everything she’d used was Mellie-approved.
It was Phillip who opened the door and took her hand as she climbed out, and she let him hug her, no words needed.
Phee took the hand he offered, his fingers laced with Fran’s on the other side, and Clyde followed close behind as they crossed the shaded street.
The door opened before they could ring the bell or knock, a man yelling over his shoulder to someone in the house that he would ‘be right back with more ice.’ He turned and caught himself on the doorframe as Phillip stepped to the side, pulling Fran and Phee with him in a move he’d previously only ever executed when they were dancing together.
“Shit, didn’t think you’d even show,” the man said.
“Paul.”
Ah. Right into it, then.
Phillip’s eldest brother studied them each in turn, eyebrows lifting as his eyes ran from Fran to Phee and his mouth opening as his gaze landed on Clyde. Phillip cleared his throat and Phee squeezed his fingers then released him and stuck her hand out. “Ophelia Logan, but everyone calls me Phee. And this is Fran, and my husband, Clyde, and you know Phillip.”
Paul blinked, shaking her hand automatically as manners and social convention dictated. “Yeah, um, nice to meet you, welcome.” He glanced from Phillip to Clyde and back again. “Why don’t you all come in, meet the rest of the family?” His smile was almost dangerous, and despite what she knew about the history of his relationship with Phillip, Phee couldn’t help maybe liking him for it. Just a little bit.
“Aren’t you on your way out?” Phillip said, clearly trying to get his brother to leave. One less Altman in the midst of things.
“Ice can wait. I’m not missing this.” He stepped back inside and gestured them through the door, shaking hands with Fran and Clyde as they passed. “Hey, guess what, Phillip’s here, he made it!”
There was a lull in the hum of conversation and then several voices spoke at once.
“And he brought guests.”
The quick clack of heels announced the arrival of the Altman matriarch, and the clamor of what must be the rest of the family right behind her.
“Philly!” Hilary Altman (Phee recognized her from photos) threw her arms out.
“Mommy,” Phillip responded, leaning forward as he released Fran’s hand.
Mrs. Altman gave him a hug and a pat and looped her arm through his, as if she thought he might wander off.
Actually he might, come to think of it.
“Don’t be rude, Phillip, introduce us!”
Phillip looked helplessly at the three of them, as if he couldn’t figure out where to start. Phee smiled what she hoped was reassuringly, even though her face felt too tight. She held her hand out again, introducing herself just as she had with Paul. Mrs. Altman held Phee’s hand in both of her own and studied her as she spoke, introducing Clyde as well. For his part, he just stepped up behind her and nodded. “Ma’am.”
Phee watched as Phillip’s mother mentally catalogued all the similarities between them, then blinked and smiled smoothly. It gave Phillip time to recover a little, kind of scooping Fran against his side, probably more for his comfort than Frannie’s. “And this is Fran,” he added, before his mother could say much to (or about) Clyde.
“Come in, all of you. Join the party.” She shooed aside the assortment of adults crowded in the doorway and ushered them in, hurriedly making introductions between the family and Phillip’s…friends?
Phee glanced at Phillip, waiting for his confirmation. Fran was practically wrapped around him, and Phillip wouldn’t meet Phee’s eyes. Shoot, probably going to fall on her to—
“Partners, ma’am,” Clyde said, stepping closer, and Phee (and probably Paul, who had come in behind them) could see his hand press against Phillip’s back. She tried not to giggle at the noise Paul made.
“WELL! So NICE to meet you, thank you for coming! I’m Paul’s wife, Annie.” The speaker shoved to the front of the group, kind of collecting Phee and—oh, apparently, she was a hugger. She gave Phee a quick squeeze already talking to the others as she turned and gave Phillip a pat and then studied Clyde over Phillip’s shoulder.
“Where did everybody go, we’re having a party out back and—holy shit!”
Phillip sighed. “Judd.”
Phillip’s other older brother took them in with wide eyes, his gaze darting from Fran to Phee and back, then smirked. “Well, can’t say you don’t have a type.”
“Oh, shut up, Judd,” snapped a woman with dark hair and glasses. She could only be Phillip’s sister, Wendy. “Forgive my brother, sometimes he’s an idiot,” she said to Phee, glancing repeatedly at Clyde as Phillip reluctantly extricated himself from Fran.
“Wendy.”
“Ah, hi, baby brother,” Wendy said as he hugged her. “It’s good to see you.” She said something else, low and clearly intended just for Phillip and he threw his head back in a surprised bark of laughter. Phee smiled and relaxed a little bit, meeting Fran’s gaze as she bit back a smile as well.
“We’re all glad Phillip and his entourage arrived, but can we get things moving? I left Quinn and Penny in the back yard with the kids.”
“Why on earth would you do that?” Paul said.
“Weren’t you going to get some ice?”
Paul waved a hand and opened the door again, not bothering to answer. It was apparent he needed the escape.
Despite Paul’s (and Judd’s) comments, Judd’s ex-wife, Quinn, and his girlfriend, Penny, were behaving perfectly civilly when Hilary and Annie ushered everyone out to the yard, pausing long enough to introduce Hilary’s partner, Linda. Wendy’s son and daughter played in a weathered sandbox, while Paul and Annie’s son napped in a pack and play in the shade. Judd’s daughter was ensconced in a high chair with a selection of cut up fruits and some fish shaped crackers.
“Oh my God!”
“Penny,” Phillip said as she hugged him. “I can’t believe it. I mean, I can but…anyway, Judd didn’t tell me you were coming. And you’ve brought people!”
Quinn greeted them as well, polite but cool, and it was clear she was tense. Phee had to give her credit for showing up. Especially considering the circumstances of her divorce, at least the details as related by Phillip who clearly held a grudge (fair, she did really hurt his brother, ‘even if he is an ass, just not as bad as Paul’).
It actually wasn’t terrible.
Clyde ended up posted up by the grill as Judd and Paul argued over the finer points of cooking meat. Phillip had dragged Fran over to play with Wendy’s kids who were shrieking their joy as Phillip entertained and Fran smiled and shook her head at him.
Unfortunately, that meant Wendy, Hilary, and Annie had each cornered Phee alone at least once, and they were…curious had to be the polite term.
It was a relief when food was ready, Phillip slipping inside and then coming back to present Fran with a veggie patty he’d had Paul pick up along with the ice. The four of them hovered at the end of one of the long tables set up. He was hiding it well enough his family could pretend not to notice, but Phillip was stressed. Fran was tucked against his side again, and Phee put a hand on his leg.
“You doin’ all right, Pup?” Clyde asked softly, hand resting on Phillip’s shoulder. Phillip closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, just a little.
“It’s…”
“A lot,” Fran piped up, and Phillip nodded.
“Want me to pretend I have a sudden bout of food poisoning?” Phee offered.
Phillip grimaced and shook his head. “You’re a little too convincing at that,” he mumbled, smile tight but there.
They made it through the meal, though, and cake, and even presents, with only a minimum of slightly uncomfortable small talk. As they helped clean up (largely as an excuse to escape more of said small talk), Phillip and Clyde ended up helping his brothers take down the tables. They even visited over coffee while the children napped.
It was kind of nice, actually, aside from the tense moments when it seemed Phillip and his brothers (Judd in particular) might come to blows over a cutting remark in the guise of a joke. “Phillip,” Clyde said firmly, and the younger man froze, closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then nodded. Paul and Judd seemed a little shocked, but Phee didn’t really care about them. She was more concerned with Judd’s crack about the one-armed man. Fran looped her arm through Phee’s. “No fighting.”
“I wasn’t!”
Fran snorted. “Not yet, perhaps, but if he makes one more comment about Clyde and Phillip looking a bit alike I might hit him.”
“Hot.”
Fran smothered a laugh in her shoulder.
“I think it’s about time for us to head back to the hotel,” Clyde said, a little louder than usual for him. “Got in late last night, and had an early morning, too.”
That much was true. The hotel breakfast ended at nine-thirty. Not that they made it down to the lobby in time, anyway.
They said their goodbyes, and Hilary managed to extract a promise they would come back the next day before beginning the trip back home, and Phee felt the exhaustion of the day roll over her as they headed to the rental car.
Fran drove them back, Phillip in the passenger seat and Clyde folded into the back with Phee. She leaned against his shoulder and fought to stay awake. She wanted to put on pajamas and—
“Cuddle puddle?” Phillip said.
Phee blinked a few times until her vision cleared. “Hm?” She squinted, confused. They were already back? She stretched as she crawled out of the back seat and followed the others inside. No one spoke in the elevator, all of them lost in thought and exhausted.
Clyde opened the door to their room and they filed in. Phillip toed out of his shoes and flopped across the bed, face-down. “Don’t ever let me do this again,” he mumbled.
Clyde laughed. “Went better than I thought,” he said, pulling off his shirt.
“No bloodshed,” Fran agreed, wiggling out of her trousers. “Though I wouldn’t have minded if you’d let Phillip punch Judd just once.”
Phee yawned and pulled her sundress off over her head, then kicked off her sandals and flopped down beside Phillip in her panties. Fran curled around her, arm outstretched so she could rest a hand on Phillip’s back, and Clyde stretched out along the foot of the bed on the other side of Phillip. “Running out of bed,” he grumbled. Phillip grunted and turned on his side, scooting over a little until Phee was against his chest, Fran’s arm over both of them, and Clyde curled around him from behind, mirroring Phee and Fran.
Clyde wasn’t wrong. It hasn’t been awful. Nothing like some of the more colorful stories Phillip had shared about family gatherings, and even Phillip admitted Paul had mellowed a lot as he settled into fatherhood.
Still, it had been hard to miss the looks, the whispers between Penny and Judd or Annie and Linda and Hilary.
Actually…
“I can’t believe your mother didn’t demand to sit us down and ask for all the gory details about us for a new book.”
“Give her time,” Phillip replied. “Linda kind of tempers her bluntness sometimes. She’ll be exchanging sex tips in no time.”
“Oh, no, she definitely already did that,” Fran confirmed.
Phee nodded. “True, that was awkward.”
“Woman knows far too much about prostates,” Clyde mumbled.
“Oh, fuck…” Phillip groaned. “Just kill me now.”
“No thanks, turns out I’m not actually into necrophilia,” Fran quipped, making Phee giggle.
“Oh really? And what are you into, Ms. Larsen?” Phillip asked, raising his head.
“I think you might be too exhausted for that answer.”
“Come here, you! I’ll show you exhausted.
Clyde wrapped his arm around Phillip’s waist, the hard material of the prosthetic hand pressing against Phee’s belly as he held Phillip back. Giggling (and what a lovely sound that was) Fran squirmed back out of reach, curling next to the pillows on the corner of the mattress.
“Get off, you’re squishing me!” Phee complained, which resulted in Phillip squishing her more intentionally as she also giggled.
Phillip sighed and rolled off of her, checking to make sure she wasn’t hurt, then settled back down with a sigh. It was the calmest he’d been in days. He yawned and Clyde gave him a pat then sat up, going about removing his prosthesis, and getting ready for bed—for sleep.
“Up you get, Pup.”
Phillip grumbled and pressed his face into the bedding.
“Ain’t sleeping crossways,” Clyde added, and Phee groaned as Fran urged her to sit up as well.
They had a whole other room, a connecting one with two queen beds, but they’d swiped all the pillows and mostly just used the second room for their luggage and an extra bathroom.
Fran turned the covers back and Phee crawled back in, Phillip joining her after stripping off his party clothes. Fran ducked into the other room then returned and lay on the other side of Phillip with a sigh.
Clyde turned out the light and curled around Phee, they way they usually ended up at home when they all fell into the same bed.
“We’re telling my mother we fucked all night,” Phillip mumbled, half-asleep. “She won’t believe it if you try to tell her you cuddled me to sleep.”
His breathing evened and Phee let her eyes close. Whatever else came up, Clyde and Fran could handle it for the night.