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“Me too.”
“As all right as those people around you.”
I clamped my jaw shut again. It was a convoluted way to say it, but she didn’t understand, the people around me came first. I wasn’t ready to get into that argument with Lyn.
She tapped her pen against the desk. “I don’t bring up that I saw you two to make things weird. It’s a warning. If you’re hiding something, and I found out in just a few days, other people will too.”
“I know.”
“Do you? Owen and Kingston work hard for their anonymity, and itiswork. Ramsey. Well…”
Ramsey was exactly the opposite.
“Trust me, I’m very aware.” But this drove home the point.
Nineteen
Iactually slept Saturday night, though it was more a collapse of exhaustion than it was a peaceful thing. I woke up early Sunday, despite not having to open the café, and I was grateful to leave half-formed dreams behind of letting everyone around me down. Of our worlds crumbling when the truth came out.
I sleepwalked my way through a shower and dressing. My schedule was busy, even with the day off from one job. The first contractor was coming by the shelter today to start ripping out carpets and any Sheetrock with mold damage.
Hunter was in the kitchen already. I shouldn’t be surprised at this point.
“I’m not interrupting your morning moments of peace, am I?” I rarely had enough time in the morning to stop and enjoy the solitude, but when I did, I wanted solitude.
“Not at all.” He slid a mug of coffee and a bowl of oatmeal across the counter. “I heard you in the shower, so I made extra breakfast.”
I had to admit, the best part of being married to Hunter was that it was Hunter. I settled on a kitchen stool. “If you’re not careful, I’ll get used to this. You’re spoiling me.”
“Nothing wrong with that.” His smile was easy. Calming. Didn’t reach his eyes.
I stalled with a spoonful of oatmeal halfway to my mouth. “What’s wrong?”
“Trying to decide when it’s best to break the news.”
I dropped my spoon and it clattered against the edge of the bowl. Fortunately it didn’t send oatmeal flying, but I wasn’t sure that was a priority. “Probably best to just tell me at this point.”
“I talked to Mom a few hours ago. They’ve asked her to stay another month, and she wasn’t able to get through until now to tell me. She can’t make dinner tonight.”
Relief flooded me. “I’m… sorry?”
“No you’re not.”
At least I was consistent and obvious. “I’m sorry it seems to have you upset.”
“I’m ambivalent. I didn’t want to look her in the eye and play this game, but whenever she stays out longer than planned, I worry about her. She pushes too hard for others sometimes—she’s a lot like you.”
Except I’d never ask my child—only son or not—to lie to their other parent about their sexuality, simply to keep the peace. “Hmm.”
“Don’t judge.” An edge slipped into Hunter’s voice.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You think very loudly sometimes.”
I didn’t have a response so I shoved some rapidly cooling oatmeal into my mouth instead. But it wasn’t really a lot to chew around, so the bite didn’t take long. The mood in the room had cooled too, so I might as well ask what I was thinking. “When we do have dinner with her, are we really going to sit through an entire meal and lie to her? What happens when this ends? Will you and Ramsey hide things forever? How will she feel when she finds out otherwise?”
“I don’t know. I don’t have any more answers than you.”
