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Every now and then, when I couldn’t stop myself, questions piled up. Who had taken the picture? Had that happened before he’d met Grandma Lucille? He couldn’t have been too young. I’d been eight years old, and I’d recognized the man as my grandfather instantly. What had it been like back then as a homosexual man? Had he led a double life? Did he die unhappy?
“Mama, look! It’s a picture of Grandpa!”
I felt the same warmth now I’d felt all those years ago. I didn’t want to remember the smile on my face, but I did. I didn’t wanna remember that warm sensation either, because it jammed more questions into my skull. What the fuck had I seen in that photo? How had I interpreted that? I’d been too young to see sexuality and love. Right? I’d been too young to understand.
Then Ma had rushed up the stairs, taken the photo from me… Her face contorted in horror, and the knife…
The warmth had dissipated. My smile had vanished. I’d been wrong to smile at Grandpa kissing another man. So fucking wrong.
I had to get out of here. Hugging Haley was fine, getting a comforting squeeze from Nikki was fine too, and I loved every cuddle Colin gave me, but I couldn’t be affectionate with Roe. Soon as that happened, I fell down a rabbit hole of fear, confusion, and sorrow. Because of that warmth. It made me so goddamn angry. My own mother had screwed me up so much that I couldn’t enjoy a fucking hug with a man. With my best friend.
Shame washed over me because I did enjoy it. I loved this right here. I loved how close Roe and I were. I loved how important he was to me, and how important I was to him. I loved how Roe brought out so many new feelings in me, which forced me to admit that Nikki had been right about her and me. Things had been fine between us. A joke had resulted in a chuckle. The food had been all right. But with Roe… Everything was just so much stronger. Every color, every flavor, every memory, every dumb grin.
I let out a breath and willed myself to relax.
I wasn’t doing anything wrong, I wasn’t doing anything wrong, I wasn’t doing anything wrong.
I’d stood up to my mother countless times. It’d been years since I’d let her control anything where I was concerned. So why the fuck was she in my head now? It was insane.
Roe coughed a little and stirred in his sleep, and he turned away from me, effectively trapping my arm under his head. Then he wrestled with the duvet until it covered us both before his breathing evened out once more.
I gave up the fight for one moment. Carefully turning onto my side, I made sure there was an inch or two between us, and I closed my eyes. I didn’t have the energy to feel bad about wanting some closeness.
*
Since my birthday fell on a Sunday, I was still clinging to twenty-nine when we boarded the plane on Saturday morning. The last day of my twenties. The absolute last. Tomorrow when I woke up, I’d be hungover and old.
I placed my overnight duffel and my garment bag in the overhead compartment, then jammed Roe’s little rollaboard in there too. Then we got seated and were promptly served juice or sparkling wine, and I accepted a glass of juice.
Once we were in the air, I’d get something stronger.
Given how tense Roe was, I was gonna need the drinks to keep coming.
“You have a horrible poker face today,” I told him. “Just how big is this party gonna be?”
“Heh. Not too big.” He shifted in his seat and buckled his seat belt. “But you’re not supposed to know there is a party at all, so quit askin’.”
I smirked and scratched my nose. “Roe, if you look like you’re about to hurl, I’m gonna ask questions. You okay? Anything I can do?”
Maybe he shouldn’t have insisted on throwing me a party. He’d only had two weeks to put something together.
He blew out a breath, and something softened in his expression. Then he linked his arm with mine and patted my hand. “You’re a good friend. I’m just nervous about tonight. It has to be perfect.”
I flicked a glance at our arms and had to fight the most absurd urge to squeeze his hand. I could do that with Nikki and Haley, not Roe. But Christ, something was wrong with me lately. Ever since he’d been sick, I’d felt myself wanting to move closer. And he didn’t make things easy for me. Roe was naturally affectionate, whereas I had compulsive thoughts I couldn’t shake. Some people couldn’t go out on a balcony without thinking they had to jump. I couldn’t jerk off in the shower without picturing Roe with his fucking dildo.
