Page 74 of Snow Globe Secrets

And before I could even dream of responding to any of that, even to joke about college students and dirty laundry, another text came through.

The Stranger: And I understand, sweetheart, of course, I do, that your relationship with your parents is important. So we’ll figure it out.

The dots continued to bounce, but I jumped in.

The Excuse: We’ll shake that snow globe, Randall, and shake it and shake it as long and as hard as we have to. And there may be more chaos before those beautiful snowflakes finally settle, but when they do, I know my parents will come around. At least I hope they will. I’ll see you soon.

“Aus,” my mom said softly from the kitchen. She’d gone upstairs to change without us having a chance to talk after the men had left. I was dying to know what she and Randall had talked about, but frankly, I wanted to hear it from Randall’s perspective.

Her look was so kind but clearly held concern. “Are you cooking dressed like that?” I looked down at my crumb-stained shirt. I stood, stretching the shirt out in front of me to capture the flakes. I walked like that to the kitchen and shook the shirt over the sink, dropping it back down and brushing it off until it was clean.

“At your service.” I smiled at my mom.

“Classy,” she responded, handing me a red-and-green apron and donning one that matched.

We got to work, preparing Christmas Eve dinner, holiday music playing in the background, an image dancing in my mind of two men standing arm in arm in front of a picturesque cabin, an SUV in the driveway, and snowflakes falling softly around them.

“Mom?” I asked as I cut celery, and she opened a couple of cans of tomatoes.

She leaned over my shoulder. “Smaller.”

“Yes, ma’am.” It was quiet for a minute before she started the blender. It only took a few beats for the tomatoes to puree, after which I tried to engage Mom again as I scraped the celery into the pot and started on the garlic.

“Mom. Can we talk about it?”

“Randall is really special, Austin.”

“I know.”

“And I think he’s been very much alone.”

“He has friends in England, Mom. He wasn’t alone.”

“We shouldn’t have abandoned him.”

“You didn’t. He left.”

“He was like a brother to us. He introduced us, for God’s sake.”

“I know that, Mom.”

“He was never close with his family. I feel like I should have known. I should have figured out that he was gay, Austin.”

“I don’t think you need to feel any guilt about that. He didn’t want you two to know back then.” The comment hung heavily in the air between us. It wasn’t the only thing Randall hadn’t wanted my parents to know.

“He loves his job; he likes the company he works for. Sure, he had a shitty marriage, but he got out of it and came back, and he’s starting a new life in New York. He’s … fine. He’s great. He’s really great, Mom.”

“But, Austin?” Mom focused on the vegetables she was chopping as if she needed to collect her words. I gave her time.

“I know how gay men are, Austin.”

“Not sure what you mean, Mom.”

“I know that some gay men tend to be … not monogamous. And I’m not sure that’s him, and frankly, I’m not sure that’s you, but I don’t want to see either of you get hurt if that … if that’s what this is.” Mom was saying a lot of words but not what she actually meant. At least not what I thought she meant.

I dropped the garlic in the pot and washed my hands. “Tell me what you saw this morning, Mom. What you think you saw between us, standing right here in your kitchen.”

She didn't hesitate. “I saw two men in love.” Oh wow, is that how we looked?