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“I don’t know what to think,” says Drew’s father quietly. He appears to be the only Hicks on the porch with any concern for being overheard. Surveying the crowd quickly, I can’t see Drew’s mother in there anywhere. I can’t imagine she’d put up with this if she knew what was going on.
Drew’s parents always struck me as open-minded, generous people. It never occurred to me that they might have a problem with his bisexuality, and certainly not with his career choices.
“You really ought to have known better,” continues Drew’s father, looking disappointed and sad. Mr. Hicks harrumphs in agreement.
“Your son is one of the best men I’ve ever met,” says Cooper, stepping forward suddenly.
“You’re awfully forward for someone showing up uninvited to a family occasion,” says Mr. Hicks, glowering at Cooper.
“Drew invited him,” I say, stepping forward and sliding a hand into Cooper’s. I can’t stand here and listen to this anymore.
“Don’t get me started on you, young lady,” says Mr. Hicks, turning his glare my way. “It’s bad enough, you turning up here when Alan doesn’t want you anymore.”
“That’s enough.” Drew steps between us and his family. “You’ve made it clear we’re not welcome here. It’s time for us to go.” He turns, taking Cooper and me each by the elbow and pushing us gently back the way we came. We’re pulling our coats on as his father and grandfather round the corner, whispering heatedly at each other.
“Andrew, we aren’t finished with this conversation,” says Mr. Hicks.
“You’ve made your views perfectly clear, Grandfather,” says Drew tonelessly. “My life and my choices do not meet your expectations. I doubt they ever have, and I don’t expect that to change. You don’t need to worry about that going forward.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means we’re leaving,” says Drew, helping me into my coat. “Congratulations, Dad. Give my best to Mom. For whatever that’s worth.”
“Andrew, wait,” says his father. Drew shakes his head.
“You don’t get it,” he says. “You only see how I’ve disappointed you. Can’t you see that every step I’ve taken these last few years, every move I made that disappointed you… every single one brought me closer to being myself?”
Drew’s father closes his mouth. Alan comes up behind him, his arms crossed, looking defiant.
“This is who I am,” says Drew quietly, taking my hand and Cooper’s. “These are the people who accept me for that, who maybe even love me for it. If you can’t accept them, we’re wasting our time here.”
He tugs on our hands and the three of us walk back to the car as one.
26
Drew
“Where to?” Cooper asks. Bailey’s shoving me into the back seat, none too carefully, so I’m too distracted to protest when she directs him to my place. Just as well.
Cooper takes us out of the parking lot and I have to make an effort not to turn back to see if my family is still watching us from the porch of the house. Bailey’s got an answer for that too, jerking my chin down in a grip firmer than I knew she had in her.
“Look at me,” she says.
“Do I have a choice?”
“Drew,” she says, all business. I comply. It’s no hardship—my Bailey girl is beautiful, more so right this minute than she’s ever been. My heart skips a beat, thinking of the last half hour and the last several weeks and it dawns on me that I don’t just love her. She’ll always be my best friend. Somewhere in the last few weeks I’ve gone and fallen in love with her.
Bailey’s eyes widen at whatever she sees in my face and she pulls me close for a kiss. The kiss is soft, full of things I don’t dare to say out loud, but I think Bailey hears me anyway if the look in her eyes is any indication.
“Starting without me, huh?” says Cooper. I catch his eye in the rearview mirror and grin. He smirks back. “Knew I should have gotten that camera installed.”
“Something for the bucket list,” says Bailey. She slips out of her seatbelt.
“Safety first,” Cooper singsongs.
“We’re almost there,” says Bailey over her shoulder as she straddles my lap. “Do me a favor and don’t wreck the car.”
Cooper mutters something too low for me to hear but I’m distracted again, arms full of Bailey.
