One woman—not Lydia, not Icy Brunette, not Designer Sunglasses, but the one with her hand grazing Renn’s shoulder—leaned down and squinted at my thigh. Her exquisite size two physique was encased in expensive all-black apparel, complemented by a perfect high blonde ponytail.
“It’s cute,” she said, straightening up. She ran her long French manicured fingernails up and down Renn’s arm. “I always forget that this one has such an interesting day job. He does so much volunteer work at the school. I think of him as just one of the parents.”
“Oh.” I had no response to that. It seemed unimaginable that Renn could ever blend into this crowd. Besides being covered in ink, he was much younger than the dozen or so other guys wearing PTSA VOLUNTEER badges. Not that the men walking around were schlubs or anything. They were as ego-driven as their wives, and most fell firmly into the DILF category. Even so, they weren’t Renn.
“Well, we appreciate you coming and supporting the cause. I’m Hannah.” PTSA Athletic Apparel Barbie extended the hand that wasn’t currently occupied grazing Renn’s bicep, and I shook it. “What a great idea for Renn to invite his clients.”
Given the minute to compose himself, Renn’s breathing and demeanor had mostly returned to normal. He tactfully moved himself away from Hannah’s touch. “I didn’t invite all my clients. I only invited Sadie because she and I are…friends.”
He said that last word with just enough inflection that all four women took notice. And their slight notice turned to outright gawking when Renn joined our hands again and laced his fingers through mine.
High ponytail Hannah cast a glare at them before scrutinizing me from head to sneakers and asking cattily, “What category did you run in Sadie?”
“Uh…thirty to thirty-four.” Did she think Renn didn’t know how old I was? Sadie from a year ago might have withered under her rude stare, but Sadie right-now would not allow this woman to age-shame her. “I just got it in under the wire, too, because mythirty-fifth is next month.”
Renn’s response to this was a squeeze of our joined hands. He turned to the women. “I’m gonna take a break since I held that table a while. I want to walk Sadie to her car.” Lydia grinned, giving me a wink. Hannah looked taken aback, and the other two appeared bored as Renn and I stepped away.
As we headed toward my car, still hand-in-hand, Renn told Gage to find Archie and tell him they didn’t need another table anymore. Appreciative of being given such an important task, Gage took off like a bolt.
“What was thatback there?” I smiled at Renn as soon as we were past the crowd.
“What was what?”
“With those ladies, your PTSA brethren. You basically implied we’re more than friends.”
“Wearemore than friends.” He ran his thumb along mine. “I wasn’t playing around when I said I wanted to know you better. But for now, I’m just glad you came.”
Today had provided a solid taste of what our relationship could be like outside the bubble of Studio Obscurum. I didn’t fit in with the PTSA moms, but then again, neither did Renn. And if Hannah wanted to imply I was too old for Renn—let her. I had way fewer fucks to give lately about those eleven years and what the world thought of them. It was progress that I’d felt the other woman’s judgement and it hadn’t caused me to roll up in a ball.
But thinking of my healing journey brought someone else’s to mind.
“Hey, Renn, about earlier…” I hesitated to spoil the moment, but it seemed wrong to pretend he hadn’t almost completely shut down before.
“Earlier?”
“Yeah…um…when Lydia mentioned…you know. You seemed pretty upset. I hope you’re okay.”
His jaw tightened and he stumbled. Taking a few moments to gather his thoughts, he was gentle when he eventually replied, “I’m so grateful you listened to me talk about my dad and Mary at the shop… You know it’s tough for me.” He gripped my hand tighter, nodding his head for emphasis as his pace slowed. “And I can imagine how it looked back there. But I’m not, like, depressed, or wallowing in sadness or anything. It is harder when my dad gets mentioned out of the blue, like at the AV table. And the fundraiser. But I promise you, those moments are rare and not a big factor in my life at all. It’s just a fluke that you’ve seen it twice.”
“Lucky me.” I wondered if he realized those times were probably infrequent because his friends and family intentionally avoided them.
He huffed. “Hopefully, it hasn’t given you a distorted picture. Sadie, I’m fine. The grief is there, in the background where it belongs, but you’ve been around me enough to see I’m a fully functional person, and generally a happy guy.” He gave me a maniacal grin for emphasis.
I pushed on his cheek. “Stop smiling at me like a demented Pennywise.”
“I was going forDonnie Darkovibes, but okay.”
I thought about what I’d seen, first at the House Party of Hope and just now, in front of those women. “Renn, joking aside, I’d be doing you a disservice if I didn’t at least mention how much therapy has helped me since Boston.”
He stopped mid-stride and dropped my hand, turning to face me directly. “Sadie, Archie and Pete have suggested it too, but it’s just not for me, okay? I don’t think it would help to spill my guts to a stranger. I promise I’m fine.” He crossed his pointer finger over his heart.
He’d made a valid argument. Or at least, an argument. Maybe he was fine. People had terrible moments. And while his grief was tangible, it hadn’t exactly inhibited his life. On the contrary, he displayed a shocking degree of having-his-shit-togetherness.
“Alright, Renn. I just wanted you to know I’m here for you.”
We started walking again as the murky sky darkened, threatening rain and giving the sidewalk a bluish pallor. The cool air on my heated skin was welcome. Our silence companionable, Renn reached for my hand again.
I understood where he was coming from, at least a little. I knew what it was like when those feelings, the ones you had to work to hold back, came at you unexpectedly. Like an assault.
