We are met with the smiling faces of the Dalton family, well, all except for Beau. He isn't out here yet. Cynthia and Frederick greet my parents warmly, and move to introduce them to Thomas and Abigail.
"This is our littlest, Abigail." Cynthia says, placing her palm on top of the small girl's head.
"And this is Thomas, our son." Frederick adds, throwing an arm around his son's shoulder.
Thomas smiles, and my mother reaches out her hand. "Well aren't you handsome! Our Katherine was just telling us all about you."
Well shit.
"Actually mom-" I begin to interrupt, and as if on cue Beau walks out the door and straight towards me.
"Mr. and Mrs. Wilder, nice to finally meet you. Kat speaks of you highly." He reaches out to shake my father's hand, and my mother looks like she's just seen a ghost. "I'm Beau."
"This is who I was telling you about." I say, nudging my mother. That look of realization I'd been waiting on hits.
Beau is wearing jeans and a white t-shirt that does little to hide the ink covering his skin. His looming frame towers over my mother, and I swear she gulps before finally taking his hand.
"Oh, I apologize. I just assumed-" She begins, "Never mind, it's nice to meet you."
Of course she assumed Thomas would be the one I was with. That would be the obvious conclusion.
Her eyes meet mine, and a look that can only be described as pure confusion is evident. When Beau's hand lands on the small of my back she looks away.
Well, at least the hard part is over.
Frederick manages to produce some of the best steaks I've ever tasted, and before long my mother has downed several glasses of wine with Shelly and Cynthia. This night has turned out much better than what I could have imagined.
That is, until I learned something else about Frederick Dalton.
As it turns out, when he drinks it seems his animosity towards his eldest son reaches new heights.
It started as a smart remark here and there. No one else noticed at first, but I could sense the anger building within Beau. After a few more beers, those smart remarks turned to full-blown aggression.
"So, Beau. What do you do? Are you in school?" My father asked.
The joy I felt when I saw my father genuinely trying to get to know the man I cared so deeply for was quickly overshadowed by the words of Mr. Dalton.
"In school? Sure, son. Go ahead and tell them all about how you pissed away thousands of dollars in tuition to run off on your little boat." Frederick scoffed.
I saw Beau's jaw clench, and knew this was headed in a bad direction very quickly.
"Oh, our son is quite the adventurer." Cynthia remarks proudly, trying to steer the conversation to safety.
The air was shifting. Where only moments before it had been lighthearted and fun, it was now getting increasingly uncomfortable for everyone.
"Adventurer? You give the boy too much credit." Frederick laughed, but there was no real humor there. Instead his words were laced with bad intention. "Now that his obligatory summer with the family is over I'm sure he will be racing off again, not to be seen for another year."
My blood turned cold.
"That's enough." Beau said in a low voice.
"Darling, not now? Please." Cynthia pleaded. The look in her eyes made my heart ache for this woman.
I see my mother shift in her seat.
His wife's pleas seemed to do little but anger him more. "Always coddling him. What good does that do?" He spit out, his anger catching everyone there off guard.
Silence fills the space, and it is clear no one is sure how to proceed.
"I said that's enough." Beau growls, this time much louder.
"Maybe we should go find more wine? I have a bottle on the counter. Cynthia?" Shelly asks, and I know she is trying to steer everyone towards her home to avoid what seems inevitable.
"Yes, that sounds like a good idea." Mrs. Dalton's voice is quiet, but she stands to follow Shelly.
"You don't get to tell me when it's been enough, son." Frederick booms. "Learn your place. This is my house, and you will respect me."
This isn't good. The outburst causes the group headed towards Shelly's to halt.
"Respect you?" Beau exclaims, rising from his seat. His fork slams against the plate, and the hair on the back of my neck stands. "You can look me in the eyes and say that to me?"
I rush to his side, trying to pull him away from his father. "Come on, let's go inside. It isn't worth it."
"I am your father, whether you like it or not." Mr. Dalton turns his attention towards me, "And you? You need to learn your place as well. This discussion is between my son and I."
It happens so quickly that I almost don't have time to react. Beau lunges towards his father, and just as quickly I wrap my arms around him. "No! Don't do this, let's just go."
My attempt to stop him from slamming his fist into his father's jaw is futile. He's too strong, and it takes little effort to get past me. A scream pierces the night, and I see tears streaming from Cynthia's eyes.
Thomas tries to pull his brother off his inebriated father. "What the hell, Beau. What is wrong with you?"
"Me?" Beau's eyes are wild, hurt. "What's wrong with me?"
"You just fucking attacked dad. Why can't you just walk away? Why do you have to create problems everywhere you go?" Thomas yells, and my heart shatters.
Beau's fist slams into to the concrete beside his father's head. I see the tears and my instinct is to get to his side, but my father's arms envelope around me. I struggle against them, but again it's no use.
"He's a piece of shit, Thomas. You didn't hear what he was saying to me? How can you say this is my fault? How is everything always my fault? How can you all be so fucking blind?" As the man I love screams out to his younger brother every single tiny thread holding me together snaps. "I tried so hard to keep you all from finding out just how much of a slimy bastard he really is, but instead you turned on me. All I ever tried to do was protect you!"
No. Not here. Not now.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Thomas asks.
"Ask him." Beau nods towards his father. "Ask him why I ran off. Ask him why he hates me so fucking much."
Cynthia's voice comes out as a whisper. "What is going on? I don't understand any of this."
When his eyes meet his mother's they soften, and I see the instant regret.
"Nothing, just forget it." He turns to walk away.
"What is he talking about, Frederick?" Cynthia addresses her husband who is slowly peeling himself off the ground. "Beau, don't you dare walk away. Not this time."
Thomas is looking back and forth between his parents and brother, trying to unravel whatever the hell is happening. I realize Shelly is gone, and with her so is Abigail. I am grateful that she took the little girl away from this.
When no one answers her question, Cynthia raises her voice. "Someone tell me what the hell is going on!"
"Nothing is going on, honey. You know how he is. Beau's a grenade, always waiting for the perfect opportunity to blow up everything around him." Frederick's hard gaze meets his son. "Is that what you want? To ruin everything?"
I feel sick. He is trying to manipulate Beau to stay quiet, once again making him feel like if he says anything it would be his fault. That his mother's heartbreak would be because of him.
"You ruined everything!" Beau screams. "You ruined everything when you decided our family didn't mean shit to you. You ruined everything when you fucked your secretary in front of me. You ruined everything when you asked me to keep your dirty little secret."
Once the words are out into the universe there is no going back. Cynthia crumples to the ground, and muffled sobs escape her lips. Thomas rushes to her side, pulling her up and into the house.
Horror at the scene unfolding before him flashes across Beau's face. "Mom, I'm sorry I-"
"Are you happy? You've broken her heart." Frederick seethes through gritted teeth.
I hate him. I hate Beau's father. "He didn't break her heart, you did!" I call out to him, and I feel my father dragging me towards Shelly's house. "You did this, not him!"
I watch as the world begins to move in slow motion around me. Beau runs towards the house, towards his mother. Frederick curses, and follows them inside. I am trying to get away, trying to go to Beau. Needing to get to him. Needing to comfort him.
When the door shuts I press my face against the glass, releasing a wave of sobs.
What just happened? How had everything exploded around us in an instant? Anger courses through my veins. All he ever wanted was to keep his mother from finding out how horrible her husband truly was, and in one instant anger had taken over. The truth was out, and I had no clue what that meant.