Page 17 of A Straight Line

“Now,” He interjected, “it doesn’t have to be traditional. There are all kinds of ways to love and have a relationship. But it’s fairly human to want someone to spend your days—hopefully, your life—with. We should never give up on finding it.”

I turned to him.

“Look, Vic,” I said, “I get it. Just…not right now. Not tonight. Give me some time to stay with you guys before you get all Grandfather Wisdom on me, okay?”

“I worry about you.” He placed his hands on my shoulders. “You’re my only nephew. The closest thing I’ll ever have to a son.”

“I’m rather fond of you myself.” I teased. “I just need time. All right?”

Vic stared into my eyes, watching me carefully, as though he could see the damage buried deep as if it were a visible thing.

“Fucking men.” He sighed, his hands sliding away from my shoulders.

“Fucking men.” I parroted.

“Just don’t give up hope,” He said. “Promise me that. I’m old, Russ. Knowing you’ll have someone to look after—and who will look after you—will bring me a bit of peace. It’ll make putting up with your uncle so much easier.”

I laughed. “I’ll do my best.”

“You always do.” He chucked me under the chin lightly with a grin.

For a moment longer, we stood there, just sharing a look and the silence—the only silence we’d have for hours.

“Shall we join the hens outside?” He asked.

“You go ahead.” I gave him a slight nudge. “I’ll be out there in a minute. Promise.”

“All right,” He said. “I’ll send Felix and Simon after you if you try and drag it out.”

I gasped playfully.

Vic chuckled at my theatrics, but then he was gone. I was left with the sound of the catering staff bustling through the house for background noise as I stared at the picture of Morty and Robert.

Fucking men.