Daniel
The townof MacBryde was full of surprises. Its bucolic appearance and unhurried pace made it seem idyllic, but beneath that calm facade, it hid a wealth of stories just like anyplace else. Stories of tragedy and inspiration and redemption, stories of love earned and twisted and broken, storiesof—
I stopped typing at the sound of Honoria’s eager barking and pushed the keyboard off my lap so I could run to the door, managing to trip over my laptop’s charging cord along theway.
I forced myself to pause and take a deepbreath.
Jesus fucking Christ, this had been the longest two days since… well, since I’d gotten to O’Leary, for damn sure. Julian had promised in a text yesterday that he’d come by today, and he couldn’t come soonenough.
I was finally ready to talk. Past ready,really.
I’d rushed back to the booth Saturday after my conversation with his mom, eager to smooth things over, but Julian had made it clear he wanted no part of my apologies. He’d ignored me for most of the evening, and when I’d asked him to come back to the cabin with me, he’d pleaded a headache. So instead of a quiet evening of explanations with the man I was belatedly realizing was far more than just a friend, I’d ended up at Parker Hoffstraeder’s bar, drinking beer with Cal, Ash, Constantine, Silas Sloane, Everett Maior, and a couple of women I’d never met before, Moira and Mari. It should have been fun—would have been fun, because every single one of them was smart-mouthed, good-natured, and accepting—but despite the endless flow of old stories and fresh laughter, I’d felt Julian’s absence like a sore tooth. In the end, Constantine had driven me home with a commiserating smile and left me with the comforting words, “The best thing about Jules is he never holds a grudge with people he caresabout.”
But then two entire days had passed with no contact whatsoever, leading me to believe that either Julian had secretly been training in Olympic-level grudge holding, or that I was too late. He’d had enough of this tilt-a-whirl friends-with-benefitsthing.
Honoria kept barking, and I made myself move toward the door again, at a normal pace this time. Julian was here now, and we would talk shit out. I would tell him how important he was to me, so there’d be no doubt. I’d tell him we—our relationship—could be whatever heneeded.
I ran a hand through my hair as I opened the heavy wood door and made myself smile… but it wasn’t Julian standing there, it wasSam.
“Oh,” I said, pushing open the glass storm door. “It’syou.”
“Wow. One of the less enthusiastic greetings I’ve received recently,” she said, tightening her perpetual ponytail. Her cheeks were pink and her hands were chapped red from the cold. “Were you expecting a certaindoctorto make a house call?” She wiggled hereyebrows.
“Are you old enough to make jokes like that?” I demanded, backing up so she could step into the warmth of the living room, where Honoria immediately attackedher.
“What, you didn’t play like that withyourBarbies?” Sam sank to her knees on the carpet in front of the fire and let Honoria flop on top of her. “My Malibu Barbie and Astronaut Barbie had a passionate love affair going on. They came from such different worlds, but they were meant to be together,” she said in a fake-breathlessvoice.
I sat on the sofa and grinned. “Sounds like the back of Julian’s romance novel. I mean, Julian’smom’sromance novel,” I corrected. I was pretty sure he didn’t need that information getting outthere.
Sam waved this away. “Who gives a shit? Why pretend like it’s this shameful thing? Romance is awesome. If you’re gonna read it, ownit.”
“Not always that easy to own things, Sam.” Isighed.
Sam rolled her eyes. “I swear to God, you just achieved a perfect, ‘You’ll understand when you’re older, Samantha’ voice. My father would be superimpressed.”
“Sorry.” I winced. “I didn’t mean it like that. Just… you know… there are things youdounderstand more when you’reolder.”
“Uh huh. Definitely. I mean, I wouldn’t know the first thing about standing up for what you like, and who you love, and who you are, or anything important like that. I’m only a queer kid growing up in a tiny town with a best friend, Rae, who’s non-binary and a dad who was determined that I’m gonna be the first kid in my family to go away to college, even though I have zero interest.” She shrugged. “I’m sure I’ll understand really important stuff once I getolder.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “Yeah, okay. Point made. I’m not just channelingyourdad, I’m channeling mine.Sorry.”
She snickered. “Dude, you’re fine. At least you admit you’re doing it. Unlike mydad.”
“Does he give you shit?” I asked. “About beingqueer?”
Sam’s hands toyed with Honoria’s fur and she gave the question some thought. “Not so much for that. I think he’d rather that I was into wearing dresses and looking like some 1950s finishing school graduate. But he’s obsessed with me not getting tied down, that’s for sure. And God forbid anything get in the way of my education at some fancy college.” She looked at me and raised one eyebrow. “Which is totalbullshit.”
I hesitated, then said, “At the risk of sounding like your dad again, is it really bullshit that he wants you to get aneducation?”
“Henever got one. He and my mom got pregnant with me right out of high school. Got married. Dad got a job at a factory and worked there for like sixteen years, until they closed down last spring. Now he’s unemployed,” she added, like this was common knowledge. Knowing O’Leary, it probably was. “And he and my mom broke up about three years ago. She got remarried and they moved to Syracuse lastyear.”
“So…” I was hesitant again to say all the standard grown-up shit, but really, didn’t it just make sense? “I mean, if your dad’s struggling with unemployment because he didn’t get an education, doesn’t it make sense that he wants you to? And he doesn’t want you to get married young so you won’t have to be divorced later. He wants you to learn from his mistakes so you won’t have to deal with the stuff he’s dealingwith.”
Sam looked at me like I had three heads. “He’s miserable because he got forced to do shit when he was a teenager—getting married, having me, getting a job he didn’t like in a town he never wanted to stay in. Forcing me to live his dream just perpetuates thecycle.”
I thought of my own father, of his absolute certainty that he knew the right path for me in my career, in my relationships. It was maddening because he’d been so quick to give up on me when I didn’t meet histerms.
“Do you have something you’d rather doinstead?”
