"Have you talked to Dan yet?"
I'm proud of him for waiting so long to ask this question and more than ready to unload my feelings on the topic.
"He left me a voicemail, but I didn't call him back. And I got a text from Barb, my department chair."
I appreciate that Hugh gasps at this news. "Wow. What did she say? You think she knows about Dan already?"
"She said she wanted to talk about work matters," I say, imitating Barb's Upper West Side tone. "I'm terrified she knows, and I can't handle talking to Barb about what happened. She's buttoned-up so tightly, I'm pretty sure she gets dressed in the closet so even her husband won't see her naked."
"You know what they say. It's always the quiet, conservative ones who have the wild sex lives. Barb probably has a red room." Hugh laughs at his own joke before getting parental on me again. "I always warned you about workplace romances. Never shit where you eat."
"Dan doesn't qualify as a romance. He was a friendly co-worker who became an error in judgment when I was at a low point."
"Hold on a sec. I have to put the veggies in."
I wish I were in Hugh's apartment, cuddled up on his couch eating chicken soup and watchingThe Great Cupcake Competitionon TV. He always has quality dark chocolate on hand, and I really need some right now.
"I'm back," he says. "And I'm putting you on speaker so I can stretch and fold my dough. Did I mention I'm making my own sourdough bread?"
"Dammit, Hugh, what are you, Amish now?"
"I'll mail you a loaf." There's a pause while he sets down the phone and presumably grabs his dough. "You have to call Barb and find out what she knows. Maybe she really was calling about book lists or something."
"I know, you're right."
This was the problem with avoiding the unknown. You couldn't be sure if something truly terrible was about to happen or you were wasting hours worrying pointlessly. I could grind my teeth down to stubs tonight, then find out she really did want to discuss curriculum crap. I wasn't ready to call Barb yet though. I needed time to work up the courage.
"I wish you were here to eat some of this soup. I made way too much. I don't think it would ship well, otherwise I'd send you some of that, too. What's your plan to get Herb home?"
"Kidnapping?" I say.
"Seriously? You went all the way down there without a plan, didn't you?"
I don't want to admit that he's right.
"I'm going to sleep on it."
"Just talk to him. Maybe he'll convince you that he's happy and this is the right thing for him."
"I doubt that."
"Well, you know I couldn't live down there," Hugh says. "Small Southern towns aren't friendly to the gays, I imagine. I'm not even sure I could visit. They might shoot me on sight."
I rub the tight muscles in my neck because the headache is getting worse.
"You won't have to find out. I'll get him home."
Two
The bedin the blue room has soporific powers and induces me to take my first afternoon nap in a long time. I wake up to voices and music coming from downstairs and throw my legs over the side of the bed, my toes landing on the footstool like the princess in a fairy tale. The mirror across the room, however, tells me I'm more unwashed Bonnaroo attendee than royalty. Right. A shower needs to happen immediately.
Once I've showered and put on a clean t-shirt and jean shorts, I head downstairs. Dad and Renata are in the kitchen making salad while Harmony steals bites from their cutting boards.
"Hey, everyone!" I call out loudly enough to be heard over the Sharon Jones music playing in the background.
Dad pours me a glass of red wine and tells me to take a seat on one of the stools at the island. As I watch him work, I'm struck by how quickly he has become a part of this family. He and Renata have a solid kitchen rhythm, and at one point I catch him pinching her butt as he moves by her.
"Pop, can I have a glass of lemonade?" Harmony asks.
