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What the hell is he playing at? For once, I actually was the perfect gentleman around Cam. Mom and Dad seemed tickled to have a new visitor to talk with about the orchard. They didn’t even question my claim of us being just work colleagues.
“That’s the polite thing to do, isn’t it?” I challenge his juvenile insinuation that I’d honestly be happy to oblige.
“Oh, absolutely,” Miranda lays on thick as honey. “You were very polite today, Pete. Always looking over at him to make sure he was okay.”
Grinning at me, she flashes a wink that I feel in the pit of my stomach. Jesse’s face looks just as Cheshire Cat-like as hers.
Oh, fuck. They know. How can they possibly know?
“Did I put enough pillows on the bed up there?” Mom interrupts, worry lines marring her forehead. “Should I bring up more?”
Thank God, she’s oblivious, thinking we’re actually talking about Cam’s comfort and not the secret these two bastards I call siblings are threatening to unveil. I’ll tell my parents. Some day. Half-buzzed and at proverbial gunpoint, however, isn’t how I’d like to tell them though.
Getting up from my chair, I instantly regret how quickly I rise. It feels like the porch is moving.
“No. It’s fine,” I assure Mom, taking care to steady my steps as I head toward the door to escape an inquisition. “We’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, Mom. Pete’s perfectly capable of tucking in Cam by himself.”
Jesse earns himself a glare for that remark, but it backfires on me when I see two of him for a second. The thought of him multiplying is so terrifying that it sobers me enough to make it swiftly inside.
As soon as the screen door slams shut behind me, however, I have to lean against the wall to get my sea legs. Pinching my eyes shut, I take a deep breath to clear my head, but Miranda’s soft laughter floats in.
“Oh, my word. Pete has a crush,” she whispers.
Fuck. Fuck my life. Please tell me I’m hearing things, drunk-on-moonshine things. Family bonding sucks.
“A crush? On who?” Mom asks.
“On Cameron,” Miranda says as though it’s much more obvious than I had thought. Boobed up on moonshine or not, I can’t help but appreciate that the tone of her voice makes it seem like she’s perfectly accepting of that fact.
“But he’s a boy,” comes Mom’s confused reply.
And there goes any comfort I found in Miranda’s reaction. Kill me. Just kill me now.
“Nooo,” Jesse scolds. “He’s twenty-five. Didn’t you hear what the man said?”
As Jesse and Miranda chuckle at Mom’s expense, I hold my breath. Never mind the fact that was probably the most mature answer Jesse is capable of giving such a discovery and offhandedly tells me he’s unfazed by the possibility. I’m too paralyzed to be in awe of it as I await my parents’ reactions.
“Wait…you mean… You think…” Mom’s rambling is interrupted by a gasp and then she whispers at the volume that all old ladies whisper, “Is that why he’s going upstairs?”
“Mom, in what world would Pete sleep on the couch and then offer up the couch to me, of all people?” Jesse rationalizes.
Another gasp. Fuck. I know I can’t force their reactions, but they didn’t need to find out with the insinuation that I’m going to be doing adult things under their roof.
Another whisper that’s not a whisper. “Do you think they’re going to have sex?”
“Jesus, Lorraine,” Dad grumbles. “This is not porch conversation.”
“Well, he hasn’t dated anyone in years,” she objects to his scolding. “I just want to know if he’s found someone.”
“Uh, I’d say the forecast for that is looking likely with a chance of already hooked, Mom,” Miranda chimes in. “Didn’t you notice that they couldn’t take their eyes off each other all day?”
That answers how discreet I was. What did I expect? My need to be near him overruled my sound judgment. Maybe this is better, though. I hated pretending he was nothing more to me than a friend. I just wish I could have given Mom and Dad more fair warning and eased them into the idea. They like Cam. I know they do, but if this changes that I’d hate to have ill feelings toward my parents.
It’s quiet. The ticking of my grandmother’s cuckoo clock in the living room is the only sound as I stand still in agony.
“My word,” Mom finally lets out. “Jesse…are you bisexual?”
