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Of course, I was mentioned in the article, as was Briggs’s “terrible time since the divorce”. Most importantly, there was no mention of where Fox and I were now. I guessed once people knew who Fox’s dad was, all the stories would circulate through small-town Wyoming, but we’d cross that bridge when we came to it.
Fox was planning to open up to his friends as a start, and I’d heard him in his room, rehearsing what he was going to say, but when it came down to it, he dived straight in. “My papa was Briggs Lewiston,” he blurted, with so much tension in his voice it was painful, and there was some defensiveness in there, too. Neither of his friends reacted, and I didn’t know if either of them played baseball or even followed the game, but it seemed as if they had no idea who Fox was talking about. “He was a pro ball player, but… well, he wasn’t the best person. Gambled all our money away, got accused of throwing games.”
I watched Fox, his expression tight. This was why we were here, starting over in this small town, away from the shadows of a legacy neither of us wanted, and it hurt every time we had to explain to anyone.
Ainsley and Clarke had listened, their expressions were a mix of surprise and empathy. “Sorry, Foxy, never really followed baseball,” Ainsley admitted. “But your papa sounds like an asshole.”
“Yeah.” Fox didn’t defend Briggs; instead, he glanced my way for support, and I threw him an encouraging smile. I knew he’d hated coming here. I knew I’d dragged him away from everything he’d known and loved, but maybe, he was settling down enough to accept this new start for us. “It’s why we’re here. Starting new, away from all that.”
The conversation shifted as Clarke chimed in, his voice low, but steady. “I get it, wanting to start over I mean. My dad’s an alcoholic, spends most of his time out of the house, y’know, not around much. For real, it’s just me and my mom.”
Ainsley nodded, adding his own take. “My dad’s all about religion. He’s a bigot. I can’t even tell him I’m bi because he’d probably throw me out.” He exchanged glances with Clarke, who nodded, and then, with a smile, Ainsley took Clarke’s hand on the table. “He doesn’t know that we’re boyfriends.”
“No one does,” Clarke added.
Fox’s gaze settled on their hands, and then he stared up at them in shock. “You’re what now?”
“Boyfriends,” Clarke repeated.
The simplicity and courage of their admission struck me. This was their first time coming out to anyone, and they’d chosen Fox to trust. And me, given I was lurking at the back.
Fox’s response was immediate and supportive. “Oh wow, that’s so cool. You could double date with me and Molly, and I’d get to have my friendsandmy girlfriend with me.”
“Wait, you have a girlfriend?” I interrupted the heart-to-heart.
Fox turned in his chair. “Molly,” he said. I could hear the eye roll in his words.
I goldfished for a moment, then inspiration hit me. “Call Molly, get her over. I want to meet her, and she can join you for food, and you can double date right now, where I can see you. Then, you can tell yourgirlfriendwhat you just told your friends.”
“And I can stay because Dad doesn’t even know I’m here!” Ainsley announced, thrusting his fist into the air in celebration. “He’s not home this week, he’s off preaching, so I can do anything I want!” He spread his hands wide, and I wondered if I should be concerned. “Last night, I watched an old episode ofQueer Eye, and he won’t ever know!”
Clarke high-fived him, and the two of them sent messages, and both beamed at Fox when they got permission to stay. I wondered what Ainsley meant by his dad not knowing he was here which somehow meant it was okay to stay? Did his dad have an issue with me? Or the diner? I was not sure I’d even met the man. Unless I had—after all, I’d had many people passing through.
Then it hit me. Preaching? Was it that pastor guy who’d balked at the rainbow flag—religious, tall, wide, not skinny though. I examined Ainsley without making it obvious, and yes, there was a likeness. Jeez, if that was Ainsley’s dad, then fuck, I felt sorry for the kid.
“You don’t mind if I tell Molly?” Fox asked, concerned, interrupting my train of thought, and it took me a moment to catch up. Did he really think he needed my permission to tell his own story?
“It’s your story to tell, Fox; your life.” I smiled at him and headed into the kitchen, but not before I stopped by the table and pressed a hand to his shoulder. “And girlfriend eh? Guess we needthetalk again, just in case.”
I couldn’t help smirking when Fox muttered something under his breath, probably about idiot dads. Still, I bet he wouldn’t turn down food when it was handed to him.
Molly turned up about half an hour later, her big brother dropping her off, so at least I didn’t have to do the whole meet my son’s girlfriend’s parents thing, but I did have to meet Molly, and she was so sweet.
And also, just as passionate about cake as the rest of the group.
I made the four of them burgers, added more cookies for dessert, plus milkshakes, and then, went back to organizing the pantry to give them all space.
It was eight when they all left, Fox tracking me down as I was organizing herbs and spices into alphabetical order—again—and giving me a quick hug.
“Thanks, Dad,” he murmured, “and now I’m out of here before you get mushy.”
That’s my boy.
ChapterSeventeen
Chris
The warm,musty scent of hay and horses filled the air as I stepped into the stables at Lennox Ranch. The low sun filtering through heavy snow clouds cast shadows through the cracks in the walls. I leaned against the rough, weathered wood of a stall, watching Levi as he brushed down his horse. Rachel had said this was where I would find Levi, and it was his words of wisdom I needed before I talked myself out of the date with Noah. I needed someone to talk to, someone who could help me get my head out of my ass, and Levi had enough distance from what had happened all those years ago to see me as something other than the injured friend who needed help.
