AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I was mean to him because of it,” she cries. “I’m just like those men.”
“No, Callie.” I pull her head to my chest as she starts to hiccup. “You’re nothing like them. You weren’t mean to your brother because you wanted to hurt him.” I let her work it out of her system, again just holding her and soothing her however I can. It’s a long handful of minutes before she’s calmed down enough to talk more.
“I’ve been reading some about it, bisexuality,” she says, her cheeks flushing.
“There’s no reason to be embarrassed, Callie. It isn’t shameful,” I say. “Do you have questions about what you’ve read?”
“I’m not sure. Z said that the Bible doesn’t say it’s sinful,” she says. “I’ve never read the Bible. I only know what I was told at church or by Mom and Dad.”
“That’s probably the case for a lot of people. You go to church because you trust the teachings, but that doesn’t mean whoever is teaching them is always right. Do you think Zander is a bad person because he loves both Damian and me?”
“No,” she says immediately. “Zan isn’t a bad person at all.”
“Do you think I’m a bad person? Or Damian?” Callie shakes her head vehemently. “I didn’t grow up with religion, so I can’t really relate to your struggle there. But I’d be happy to help read about it with you or find some people to talk to. For now, maybe, knowing we aren’t bad people and we’re not causing anyone harm by loving who we do, is what matters the most. We don’t all have to fit into a box, or change who we are, to deserve love.”
“I do love him,” she says, her lip trembling. “I know I told him before he left. Do you think he believed me?”
“Oh, sweet girl. Yes. He knows how much you love him.” Teenage guilt is no fucking joke. “Nothing you could have said to him would change that.”
“I haven’t been very nice to Damian, either.”
“He’s noticed that,” I tell her sympathetically but honestly.
“Mom said,” she starts to say, but stops to chew on her bottom lip while she rethinks things. “Damian paid my dad, didn’t he?”
“He did. We thought that was the quickest way to get you here with Zander.”
“I shouldn’t have been rude to him,” she says. “He’s been really nice to me, more than I deserve. I blamed him, you know?”
“For Zander being bisexual? He’s always been that, Callie. It’s only that he likes Damian enough to nurture a relationship with him.”
“Yeah, I’m kind of understanding that now,” she says with some relief. “I should apologize.”
“You’ll have a chance to.”
Her stomach growls and I offer to make breakfast if she’ll find something for us to watch while we wait for Zan to get home. I’m tempted to scroll through the internet and see what, if anything, is being said about the brawl between the Seattle Blades and some drunk hockey fans. But I know it won’t do anything good for my own state of mind. Instead, I focus on blueberry pancakes.
It won’t do Callie any good if I fall apart with worry over Zander’s physical state or worry about his career. His rib is bruised, but there was no fracture. Which means far less of a recovery time. While it’s now officially the off season, it’s next to impossible to get a professional athlete to chill the hell out and let their body heal from injuries.
When breakfast is ready and I bring a plate stacked high to Callie, who, to my surprise, has landed on watching Queer Eye. We eat and cry some more whenever Jonathan or Karamo imparts some tender wisdom. Six episodes later, Callie idolizes Antony and wants to learn how to cook a wider variety of recipes. More importantly, she’s gotten a taste of a lifestyle outside of conservative small-town Minnesota.
By the time we get a text saying they’ve landed and are almost home, you can hardly tell Callie has spent so much of the past twenty-four hours in tears. Of course, that changes as soon as her brother walks through the door.
She runs into his arms, crying through her apologies and telling him how much she loves him. I can see his own eyes water as he looks for me above her head, but I pretend I don’t see. What I can’t ignore is the black eye, the cut high on his cheek below it, or the wince he hides when his sister squeezes him tight.
Damian moves around Zan and Callie, dropping both his luggage and Zander’s before coming to greet me.
“Hey,” he says, pulling me in for a hug.
“Hi. I’m glad you were with him.”
“Me too. Now I’m glad we’re home.”
“Me too,” I mimic.
“Did she get any sleep,” he asks about Callie who is still distraught in her brother’s arms as they speak quietly to one another, and she gently touches the bruising on his face.
“Not enough. She’s been pretty low energy all morning.”
