Page 100 of Checking Out the Librarian

Hank

Why

Connor

Cuz I asked

Also I left my car at softball and need a ride

Hank

Sure

Hank arrived sooner than Connor expected. The time between his apartment and Connor’s house was usually twenty minutes of stop lights and bridges, but this was more like ten minutes.

He opened the door and hopped up into the SUV, stowing a plastic container of muffins in the footwell. “Already on your way, huh? I brought snacks.”

Hank pulled away from the curb without a reply, which wasn’t different from usual.

Connor settled into his seat and shifted a couple times, but he didn’t have a problem back there, and even if he did, he wasn’t going to let Hank guess.

Inside his gear bag, his phone chimed. It was his mother.

Mom

Happy 4th of July!

Connor

You too!

On way to pickleball w Hank

She sent a selfie of herself in a T-shirt decorated with the distinctive scrolling text of the Declaration of Independence and the phrase Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness. It was very her. He could see the flag-themed bunting on the front porch rails, and small flags stuck in her pots of geraniums. When she smiled that big, her eyes disappeared.

He read the shirt slogan again. Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness.

Mom

Tell him I said hi! When are you two coming to the ranch?

Wanting her questions to be about Jonathan, and that you two to be someone other than Hank, stabbed through him.

He stared at the red, white, and blue bunting in the photo. His parents were fun, happy, loving, and also very traditional. How could he be almost twenty-seven years old and not know if their type of liberty and happiness would include him and Jonathan?

Mom

Lots of fruit on the trees this year. Tons of pies and jam to make!

He swallowed back against the lump rising in his throat, and glanced at Hank. “Mom says hi and she wants you to visit. I think she wants to feed you.”

He could make a pie this afternoon, too, maybe mixed berry with a star design cut into the crust to be festive.

“If I cook tonight, you guys want to come over?” Hank and Emma were, as always, a package deal.

Hank moved his jaw side-to-side, a level of contemplation that wasn’t required for the simple motion of putting on his left-turn blinker.

“So. All Star Week.”