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“We could get you more liquor,” I suggested.
“No. This is perfect like this,” he objected, his hand moving out to tease through my hair. “Like that you grew this out,” he said, voice soft. “Always fucking loved your hair.”
God, he was easy to love.
Because while, yes, he did—and always had—do the big, strong, can handle anything, macho crap. He had also always been completely comfortable telling me how he was feeling, what he loved about me. He was raised to be strong, sure, but also to understand that his strength didn’t mean he couldn’t have softness.
And he did.
And he gave it so willingly to me.
In turn, I’d learned how to accept the softness about myself as well, and to give it to him.
Granted, that was a long time ago. I was pretty sure it was going to take a while to undo all the years that I’d been working on hardening myself up. But having him there to guide me was going to make it easier.
“You know this is probably just the first in a long line of hard talks, right?” he asked a few moments later.
“Look at you. Being all emotionally aware and articulate and shit,” I said, laughing when he gave a handful of my hair a little tug.
“Hey, one of us has to be, right?” he asked.
“That’s true. You can do all that nonsense.”
“What are you gonna do?”
“Look pretty?” I suggested, getting another chuckle out of him.
“You’re good at that.”
“Yeah. I figure, stick to our strengths, right?” I teased. “And we can both be breadwinners. And both do housework. And both raise the kids. Because I expect you to know their birthdays and the names of their teachers and shit. No slacking because you’re a dude.”
“Come on now, I was raised better than that,” he told me.
“That’s true,” I agreed. Vi said her parents always shared all the house and life tasks since Lou was not someone who settled for gender norms. “And if I ever have any issues with you, I can tell your mom on you.”
“You wouldn’t,” he said, pressing a hand to his heart.
“Oh, I think we both know I would. Can you imagine the lecture?”
“I’m trying hard not to,” he said. “So, we need to discuss the elephant in the room,” he went on, taking a deep breath that made him let out a curse.
“Which one?”
“I’m gonna have to make good with your old man, aren’t I?”
It was cruel, but I had a good laugh at that one.
Because I knew my father. He was not going to make it easy for Valen.
My mom had a little softer side. And I was pretty sure she already said her piece. If she knew how committed Valen was to doing right by me, she would forgive him. With a stern warning about watching his drinks if he ever fucked with me again.
My dad, though?
Oh, he was going to make Valen work for it.
“Just stay out of the basement and away from barrels, buckets, or baths large enough to submerge your body in, and I think you’ll be fine,” I told him.
“Always good advice around your father. Maybe I should buy out all the local lye suppliers just in case,” he added.
