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I snuck to just outside the doorway and pressed my back against the wall, shamelessly straining to hear what they were saying.
There was a pause, and then Mom said, “What have you been wanting to ask me?”
Dane made the noise that always meant he thought he was being more subtle than he was.
“Felix said you know. About me. About…my…about being an addict.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“It bother you?”
The question sounded neutral, but I knew how much Dane cared about the answer.
“I’m sorry you’ve struggled,” Mom said. I felt a rush of affection and appreciation for her. “It’s really rough. But, no, it doesn’t mean I don’t want you to date my son, if that’s what you mean.”
Dane grunted. I could picture how he’d look—the slow nod, the set mouth. Relieved but not quite able to believe it could be true. Never quite able to believe that he deserved kindness, forgiveness, empathy, even though he gave them to others over and over.
“What else?”
Mom’s voice was the one she’d used to wheedle countless secrets and woes out of her children over the years. The voice that said: I already know everything but the particulars, so you may as well fill in the blanks so we can get on with it.
“D’you…” Dane cleared his throat. “Mind that I’m…older? Than Felix.”
There was a silence, and I appreciated my mom considering the question, even though I was pretty sure I knew what she would say. Our age difference bothered Dane; I knew that. He was convinced that I was giving something up to be with him—some capaciousness he granted youth. Sometimes it caused problems for me too. In the moments when I felt immature for having big feelings when he seemed so in control. In the moments when I didn’t know a reference and I could see Dane calculate my age all over again. I’d known it bothered him far more than it did me. I hadn’t known it bothered him enough that he’d want my mom’s blessing, though.
“No,” Mom said finally. It was such an amusingly Dane-like one-word answer to a complicated question that I almost gave away my position by laughing.
“No?” Dane echoed, his version of asking for more information.
“Felix is a grown man. He’s responsible, he’s selfless, and he’s been taking care of people his whole life. I’m not that surprised that he might connect more with someone a bit…more mature than with someone in their twenties who wants to party and have fun.”
Dane made another Dane-like noise of affirmation.
“Besides,” Mom said wryly. “I had five kids with two men who were my age, and that particular commonality didn’t count for shit.”
God, I loved my mom.
“All relationships have issues,” she went on. “You’ll know if the age difference is one for you guys. So, is it?”
I could practically hear Dane’s brain chugging through all the protests he’d given me about why we shouldn’t be together. My future, his past—I knew them all by heart.
After a long pause, Dane said, “Maybe sometimes. But not too often.”
“There you go,” Mom said.
There was the sound of scraping china and the clink of a spoon. The shift in mood was palpable.
“You know,” Mom said, voice cheery and just a tiny bit teasing. “Felix practically raised his brothers and sisters. He would make a wonderful father, if it’s something—”
At that, I launched myself around the corner before the conversation could go any further, praying that Dane wasn’t going to run screaming from the house all the way back to New York.
“Morning!” I called as I entered the kitchen.
They both looked at me. Mom’s expression was happy and amused.
“Morning, honey,” she said.
But Dane’s…Instead of the dread or awkwardness I was expecting, he looked soft and open. And he was looking at me with what I could only call…consideration.
After a moment, he blinked and looked like himself again. He gave me a small smile, his blue eyes bright in the early-morning .
I could feel his thoughtful eyes on me for the rest of the day.
We put together a big breakfast and ate together, chatting and catching up. Being around my family gave me a deep sense of comfort, and getting to be with Dane at the same time made it even better. I hoped maybe he enjoyed it too. Since he didn’t really have family of his own, I figured he could share mine.
My mom had to work at three, so around two, we gathered our things and got ready to go—Coco and Sofia to the airport and Dane and I to the train station. We said our goodbyes, and Ramona even gave Dane a quick hug this time, much to his apparent surprise. Adrian and Lucas both attempted slightly longer hugs with Coco, and Sofia told them not to be creeps. Clearly abashed, they said goodbye to Dane with a shocking lack of teasing or innuendo.
