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His dad frowned. “You’re right, and I’m sorry. SayingI didn’t know any betterdoesn’t change that, but it’s the truth. I think I saw it when you were young, but I was scared. For me. For you. But everything you’ve done, I couldn’t be more proud of you. As long as whomever you’re with is treating you right, I don’t care what’s between their legs.”
And now I wanted to cry again, and the acceptance in the room. “Thank you.” I did mean to say the words aloud, and now two sets of eyes were on me. “If more kids could hear things like this…”
“What can I say? I’m incredible.” Despite his frail appearance, he sounded as strong and confident as anyone I knew. “Whatever your reasons for doing this, Violet, thank you for being my son’s friend.”
“It goes both ways.” It felt good to smile. To speak my mind. It feltreallygood. “And he’s worth it.”
“Come here.” Hunter Sr gestured, and pulled me in for a tight hug. When he let me go, he did the same with Hunter, holding him for several seconds.
He pointed to a pair of chairs next to the bed. “Stay for a while. Catch me up. Introduce me to yourwife. Tell me what’s going on with you. With Ramsey.”
This was the single most wholesome, warm moment I’d been a part of in a long time. As the three of us talked, the rest of the world slipped away. Dad had countless stories about Hunter. He was fantastic at bringing me into the conversation, too.
I loved every minute of it, not only for Hunter, but it was a reminder for me. Not every parent with a gay kid was an asshole. I wished my shelter kids, my sister, had this. It ached that they hadn’t. But at the same time, the warmth that flowed between Hunter and his dad meant there were other families out there like theirs. With acceptance and love.
That filled me with hope.
As Hunter and I walked out of the hospice a few hours later, we were both smiling.
“I like your dad. He’s—”
“Painfully direct and honest?” Hunter reached for his phone.
I did the same. “I wasn’t thinking in those terms, but yes.”
“He liked you too. He doesn’t chat like that with just anyone.” Hunter’s bright smile wilted as he looked at his phone.
MyWhat’s wrongstuck in my throat as I saw a handful of missed calls and a texts, all from Lyn. “Shit.” I’d blown through my start time for inventory. The nausea was back full force as I called Lyn back.
“Are you all right?” she answered, breathless.
Damn it. “I’m fine. I’m so sorry. We were talking to Hunter’s father. I lost track of time. I’m so so sorry. I’m on my way now.”
“Violet.” Lyn’s tone cut through me. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not.” Fuck. I couldn’t believe I was late for work.
“It really is. It’s completely fine. It wasn’t even…” Lyn sighed. “We aren’t doing inventory. It was a surprise engagement party. Wedding party? It doesn’t matter, because it’s fine.”
It did matter. Acid clawed its way up my throat. Had I known subconsciously, and blown it off? “I’m sorry.”
“Stop,” Lyn said harshly. “I get it. There’s nothing to apologize for. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard. This isn’t an offer anymore. I’m giving you the next week off. If you come into work, I won’t let you.”
The time off sounded wonderful, but the circumstances filled me with a rancid mixture of anger and frustration. “But—”
“I’ll talk to you in a week, Violet. Please, don’t worry about it. I’m not mad. I’m just concerned. Get some rest.”
I dropped my arm limply by my side. How did I let this happen?
“Violet.” Hunter’s concern penetrated the shell wrapping around me. “Hey.” He placed a finger under my chin and lifted my head. “Owen told me what happened. Come on. We’re going for lunch.”
“I don’t…” have time? I’d cleared my afternoon for work. That I’d forgotten.
Hunter tugged me toward his car. “Come on.”
I sank into my seat and let him drive. He pulled into a drive through and ordered us sandwiches. Thankfully there was no greasy smell. I don’t think I could have handled it. We headed toward his place, and then drove past his street.
“Where are we going?” I managed to ask.
