I swallowed hard on the words that wanted to come out of my mouth about my dad making it his life mission to ignore all of us whenever possible. I was about to comment on her outfit to just find something to say when my father walked up.

“Glad you could join us, Easton. I can’t imagine they make you work on Sundays at that place.” You’d think I was working for the mob, the way my father talked about my job.

“No, they don’t.” I kept my answers short with my father. With him anything you said, could be (and usually was) used against you.

I’d also been with the DA’s office for years, so nothing about my job or my schedule was news. That didn’t stop him from acting like it was some random thing that I’d started doing overnight just to piss them off. It always caught me by surprise that my father’s unrelenting disapproval of everything I did still managed to hurt. I should be used to it by now, since my entire life he’d acted like everything about me from my sexuality to my job were somehow personal affronts.

My mother’s face had that tight expression she usually sported whenever my father was being particularly assholic, but I knew she wouldn’t challenge him. That would just give him a reason to say something shitty to her too. My grandfather, on the other hand, had no such qualms.

“Leave him alone, Junior. He works too hard to have to put up with your bullshit whenever he’s here.” The way he said “Junior” made my dad squirm, and it almost made putting up with his shit worth it.

The gasp from my mom at my grandfather’s language was almost comical. “Father! Language.”

My dad just huffed and turned to talk to someone else. It seemed he was done being an ass, at least for now.

Grandpa just rolled his eyes and turned to me again while Emma distracted my mother with some questions about the catering.

“What’s going on, son? You don’t seem like yourself,” he asked me, concern clear in his eyes.

I hesitated, trying to find the words. I wasn’t so sure even I knew what was happening with me. Other than I was beginning to realize some of the things that Patrice had been saying. What Emma had been trying to tell me. That to be a good guy, it wasn’t enough to not be bad. I couldn’t take shortcuts with that if I wanted a real shot at being with Patrice.