CHAPTER
Twenty-Two
March 22, 2016
After two weeksof tension masked behind routine, I woke up resolute in my decision to force a discussion with Renn. From the bedroom, I heard Gage pouring cereal into a bowl. A stench reminiscent of a day-old gas station burrito wafting down the hall indicated Robbie was still on his kick of eating microwaved sausage for breakfast. Renn cursed softly as he stomped around by the closet, searching for a belt that had mysteriously vanished.
“Renn, I want you to talk to me. It’s hard to just do nothing when you’re clearly burning from the inside.” It was my second attempt this morning to engage him.
He took a pause in his belt hunt to roll his eyes. “Can we not have this conversation and say we did? You keep insisting something’s wrong, but I’m fine. It’s in your head.”
Ugh. I hated when Renn reminded me of Henri. Not exactly gaslighting but in the same variety pack. At least I’d gotten to the point in my life where the trick didn’t work anymore.
“It’s not in my head. You’re pissed about meeting with the school today.” He had an appointment with Robbie’s counselor that morning. There had been no other detention-worthy incidents, but they’d asked him to come in to talk about Robbie’s behavior. “And because the DNA results still aren’t back.”
“You know what, you’re right. I do have that bullshit meeting today, and Iamannoyed that the results aren’t in. So maybe lay off, okay?”
I was so tired of pushing everything aside. But he did have a rough day ahead. “Alright, Renn. But we need to discuss what’s been going on with you and Pete, and Robbie. I’m concerned about you.”
He scoffed dismissively and I felt a stab of frustration in my gut.
I recalled those few times he’d opened up to me about losing his dad. But ever since finding out about Pete and Mary, he’d been almost completely buttoned-up. And as the tension within his family had escalated, he seemed less and less like the Renn I thought I knew.
We’d achieved part of what Archie had hoped for when he’d spoken to me about Renn’s state of mind in November, why he’d thought I’d be good for him. Renn was undeniably happier. Our relationship had fulfilled him enough to relieve some of his burdens. I’d provided a buffer for Pete to forge a good relationship with Gage. As a couple, we were fun and creative and easy. But how strong of a partnership could we achieve if Renn couldn’t be honest with me about his feelings? His darker thoughts? I hated watching the way he powered through his pain. It was breaking him.
I produced the belt Renn was seeking from a basket of folded laundry. Some of his strain eased when he took it from me, chuckling. “You really hate putting things in drawers, don’t you?”
“It’s a character flaw. Sue me.” I raised an eyebrow and smiled. We still had our moments.
“Nah. I’m getting used to the new world order—clean clothes live in the laundry basket, clean dishes stay in the dishwasher.”
“I knew you’d see it my way, eventually.”
He came over and gave me a quick kiss, squeezing my hip as he walked out. “I’ll text you after I’m done with Robbie’s counselor.”
I nodded at his back.
When I showedup at Chester’s half an hour later, my manager offered me the option to go home, since she’d overstaffed the day shift. Free from making lattes, I headed to Robbie’s school, hoping Renn would accept a shoulder to lean on after his meeting. I realized he might see the gesture as overstepping, but I needed reassurance that he thought of us as partners. His stonewalling that morning still stung. If this relationship was truly going to work, he couldn’t relegate me to the sidelines while he dealt with his more difficult family issues alone. Tapping in to provide snacks for Gage’s practices or going on the occasional run with Robbie wasn’t enough.
Renn and I both had volunteer clearance at the school since I’d helped during the track meets, so when I signed in at the front desk, they said I could go ahead to the counselor’s office. The admin told me they must still be meeting since Renn hadn’t brought back his visitor badge. It was already 10:37, and the meeting had been scheduled for 9:45. It surprised me it was still going on.
As it turned out, it had been over for a while.
Heading down the hall, I passed by the family resource center, stopping short when I heard Renn’s voice.
“…it was frustrating. Mr. Marshall thinks he needs to see a therapist.”
Darn. That must be about Robbie. I had a feeling the school might recommend something like that, and also that Renn wouldn’t like it. But who was he talking to?
I peeked in and saw Renn sitting on a desk, resting back on his arms. Just as I was about to enter, a manicured red fingernail reached out to rest on his chest, and I blinked hard as a female voice purred, “I’m so sorry. I understand how difficult these things can be.”
I froze. If Renn had turned toward the door, he would have noticed me, but he was still leaning back, head aimed skyward as he spoke. “I hate the school getting involved like this. I try to be there for him, let him know how much I care, but apparently it’s not enough.”
That red claw slid across Renn’s collar, coming to rest on his shoulder. I waited for him to recoil from the intimate gesture, but he didn’t. He didn’t look like he was enjoying the touching, but he was certainly…tolerating it. And because he’d failed to discourage that fingertip, other fingertips soon appeared, until finally, two over-moisturized palms were squeezing his biceps. I watched in disbelief as High Ponytail Hannah came into my field of vision, wedging her way between Renn’s legs.
“This is a hard age, Renn. If you ever need to talk, I’m here. I sympathize with what you’re going through in a way other people can’t.” That was a direct jab at me. Hannah had seen me with Renn at school events, knew we were together. But that didn’t stop her as she began slowly kneading Renn’s arms.
That motion seemed to alert him to her proximity. He pulled her hands off his body and scooted back to put more space between them, shaking his head. With that, I realized I didn’t have to add “Renn might be cheating” to my list of worries, but his inability to immediately push her away brought back memories of Henri’s indiscretion. Was the potential there? Perhaps he considered her a friend and was just talking to her the way I talked to Zach. Then again, Zach didn’t rub my shoulders like a seductive massage chair, and he’d never once propositioned me for a booty call when his husband was out of town.
