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I laugh. “Yes.”
“Oooh, details?” Turning up her wine glass again, Greer is a little ahead of me in the alcohol consumption department. I weigh the pros and cons of delivering the nitty gritty of my sex life to my dad’s girlfriend. It’s a little weird. But ultimately I decide what the hell.
“I may not have mentioned this when we had lunch yesterday but Ben was my first. My first guy, anyway.”
Her mouth drops. “No way.”
I nod. “I gave it with careful consideration. For years I tried to deny my hetero side, you know being with Devin and all. But with Ben … there were fireworks with him I couldn’t deny.”
“Oh honey. I know what you mean. Fireworks are impossible to ignore.” She pushes her food around, quietly pensive. “So, is he good? Attentive?”
“As much as Devin was. Actually, more so. And being with him feels like … I don’t know how to describe it.”
“Like your heart has finally found a home?”
I poke my fork in her direction. “Yes. Like that.”
Greer nods knowingly, then refills my wine glass.
In a lot of ways, that is how I feel. Like my heart has found a home. But when that phrase passes through my mind, it’s Rigger I think of.
He’s always felt like home to me.
Greer and I clean up after dinner, sending Sandy off for the evening. Then she and I head to the side porch to talk some more. I ask her about her childhood and everything seems to go dark. I regret asking and tell her as much.
“You don’t have to talk about it. I was just curious.”
“No, it’s fine. I said my parents were from here and they were.Are. But I never knew them. Bounced around different foster homes. It was pretty …” she pauses, sips her wine, “horrific. I’ve tried to forget it as much as I can. The moment I turned eighteen I got out of my last home and did some things I’m not proud of.”
“I can relate to that.”
“Can you?” Her stare hits me quick and hard.
“Kind of. I didn’t have a horrific childhood but I did survive a horrific event.”
“Yes. Catastrophic.”
“And I did some pretty dumb things that Daddy doesn’t know about and doesn’t need to.”
She giggles. “My lips are sealed.”
I didn’t really do anything all that dumb, except get into the murder business. But that wasn’t dumb. It felt more like survival.
“And after you did these things you’re not proud of, the intriguing life of real estate started whispering in your ear?”
“Not exactly,” she laughs. “I got a side gig cleaning empty apartments. You know, move-outs. I didn’t make much. But one of the managers there knew a realtor, said I was disciplined and thorough and really shouldn’t be cleaning other people’s mess for the rest of my life, that I’d be good at flipping houses. That’s how I started, with real estate investing. The first house I bought was basically a glorified shed but I fixed it up and doubled my profit.”
“Awesome.”
“Yeah, but it was a pain, and a lot of work and stress. Not that I’m allergic to that, don’t get me wrong, but selling them without having to buy them and fix everything iswaaaayeasier.”
“I never did understand the pull to flipping houses. If I put that much effort into fixing up a place I’d want to keep it. It’s like … being a surrogate mom. You invest so much, cultivating a life just to hand it to someone else? No thanks.”
“I know, right?” she asks, flipping her hair to the side. “What kind of mother gives away a child that spent nine months inside of her?”
I move to change the subject. “So how did you and Dad meet? I don’t think I ever heard the story.”
She busts out a laugh. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am that youhaven’theard. But, since you asked so nicely …” She holds a finger up. “I’ll be happy to share.”
