I wasn’t lying or just trying to tell Larry what she wanted to hear. She was my family, my best friend. All I wanted was for her to be happy. Was I surprised? Sure. Did it change the way I loved my cousin? Not in the least. I was more curious than anything.And, a small but peevish part of me whispered,disappointed she hadn’t told me sooner.
Larry sighed with such force that the windshield fogged. “No. Kayla doesn’t know.”
“You’ve never thought about telling her?”
She flopped back against the headrest. “I have thought about it. I want to. I’m just scared. I don’t want to lose my best friend because I accidentally fell in love with her.”
“What if she feels the same?”
Head still tipped back, she looked over at me. “She doesn’t. Or she wouldn’t be hooking up with randoms at Magnolia every week.”
I pivoted in my seat to face my cousin. “Maybe it’s like a multiple-choice test, and Kayla thinks she has to pick A, B, or C without knowing that you’re even an option. Maybe she just hasn’t considered it because she doesn’t know this part of you. Because you’ve been hiding it your whole life.” I worked hard to keepthe petty accusation out of my tone, but Larry caught it and gave me a pained look.
“Fuck,” I muttered, voice tight. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. This is not about me. I just”—sudden emotion made my nose sting—“hate the thought of you going through this alone.”
“Mac—”
“I would have been there for you. I love you, okay? All I want is for you to be happy. If that’s with a man or a woman or Kayla or whoever. I want it for you.”
Larry smiled, watery and barely there, then she reached for my hand. “I’d like to tell you I have it all figured out. That I’m confident and know exactly who I am. But I don’t.”
I nodded because that made sense. I figured most people didn’t know what the fuck they were doing. I sure didn’t have my life figured out.
After a long moment, I squeezed her hand and asked quietly, “What’s it like? Being with a woman.”
Larry did something I didn’t think I’d seen since our third-grade talent show when her skirt had gotten stuck in her underwear on stage. She blushed a violent red that I could see even in the cool glow of the dashboard lights. “I don’t know,” she eventually mumbled.
I frowned. “What do you mean you don’t know?”
“I’ve never been with one. I just know I’m attracted to them. We live in this tiny-ass town. And there’s only ever been the way I feel about ...”
“Oh. Well, maybe you should go out and see what it’s all about. We could go to Asheville or Charlotte, even. You could try to meet someone. I could be your wingwoman.”
Larry smiled. “I appreciate you offering. But I don’t think I’m ready for that.”
“Okay,” I assured her. “It’s up to you, but I’m here for you whenever you’re ready.”
“Thanks, Mac. And for the record, I wasn’t scared to tell you because I thought you wouldn’t support me. I just—I didn’t know how. Becca found out byaccident. I was drunk and rambling, and she guessed. Anyway, I just wanted you to know.”
I nodded, the petty, shameful part of me slightly relieved to know that she hadn’t intended to reveal the truth to Becca. “Thank you for telling me. And I won’t say anything to anyone. This is your decision—when and who you let know you.”
“I love you, MacKenzie Eloise.”
Smiling, I said, “I love you too, Laramie Annabeth.”
Time passed quick and easy from the chill of February into the dampness of March, the way anything comfortable does. Like floating warm and lazy in the middle of the lake, time drifted away from me.
One minute, Brady and I were rushing to get each other’s clothes off, and then we were wading into calmer waters. He cooked dinner for me and left notes on the windshield of the Jeep. He texted me throughout the day, making me laugh, and showed up at my office in the afternoon, making me smile in a variety of ways.
If we didn’t have the benefit of secrecy keeping us in a tidy box, I would have said I was in a relationship, dating the boy next door. But all I had to do was recall the agreement we’d made, how Brady had required we keep this thing to ourselves. It was easier then to remember we were just having fun, fooling around and playing out some covert mission to the tune of our inexplicable attraction and lust-addled bodies.
When the end of March brought my birthday, Brady showed up on my doorstep one Friday evening with two sacks full of groceries and a gift bag with sparkly tissue paper.
“What are you doing?” I asked in surprise as he shuffled by me and into the kitchen.
“Making your birthday dinner,” he replied easily while divesting himself of his burdens.
My stomach fluttered, but it was probably just in anticipation of Brady’s cooking.He really knew his way around the kitchen. I ignored the swoopy sensation in my middle and said, “I didn’t tell you it was my birthday.”
