It didn’t compute. My parents had been married for at least forty years. When was this? When did my dad have time to be in a relationship with this guy? And what happened to them? Why had I never heard about him? I kept looking, turning page after page of the album, finding more pictures of my dad and his… partner, I guessed. Some with friends, some just the two of them. A few of them individually. On the very last page was a newspaper clipping. An obituary.
My chest ached as I read the clipping. One sentence jumped out at me immediately and a cold flush ran through me.
Stuart is survived by his loving partner, Arnold Wilson.
Arnold Wilson was my dad’s name. But who was Stuart? I mean, between the pictures and the obituary, it was clear who Stuart was, but… whowashe? Why had I never heard about him? And where did my mom fit into all this?
I sat there, staring at the photos in stunned silence for a long time, trying to puzzle it all out. I wanted to ask my dad about it, but if he’d hid Stuart’s existence this long, I didn’t know that he’d exactly welcome talking about him.
A hand settled onto my shoulder, startling me out of my daze. I glanced up to see Mason smiling down at me. He had no idea that my world had just been rocked, of course, and I didn’t know how to tell him what I’d found. I didn’t even knowwhatto tell him about the pictures.
“Feeling better?” I asked, my voice sounding strained as I spoke.
Mason nodded and squeezed my shoulder. “Thanks for taking care of me. I appreciate it.”
“Yeah, well, you’d better stay off the roof for the rest of the day. Maybe tomorrow too.”
He shrugged. “We’ll see how I feel tomorrow.”
“Fair.”
A second passed before he nodded toward the album and the piles of things next to the safe. “Looks like you found some old family pictures or something.”
“I found something, alright.”
His eyebrows dipped in confusion. “What do you mean?” Without another word, I closed the photo album and passed it to him. Mason opened it and immediately smiled. “Is that your dad?”
“It is. Keep looking.”
I stared at my hands as he paged through. The soft shush of album pages falling against one another was the only sound in the room.
“Wait—is that—”
“That’s my dad.”
“Who’s he kissing?”
“I think his name is Stuart.” I looked up at Mason then, wishing desperately that he’d have some cosmic understanding I didn’t have. “Keep looking.”
“Oh. Ohh. Oh man.” As he reached the end, his eyes widened, lips parting in surprise just as mine had.
“Yeah.”
Mason put the album on the table. “Where did you get this? That safe?”
“It was in the back bedroom. I was going to start the drywall demo and…” I shrugged. “I found the safe and couldn’t stop myself from snooping.”
“Has he ever mentioned Stuart to you?”
“Never.” A lump formed in my throat and I swallowed. “What should I do?”
Mason sighed and took a seat next to me. “What do youwantto do?” I looked down and he took my hands in his. “Hey,” he murmured. “No matter what’s going on between us, I’m still your best friend. I’m here for you. What can I do to help?”
“I don’t know. I want to know who Stuart is and why Dad never mentioned him. And I want to know how my mom fits into all this. And why nobody ever told me anything about it.”
“Maybe it’s not a big deal. Maybe it’s just—”
I looked up at him sharply. “Justwhat? What could it possibly be other than exactly what it looks like? Exactly what the obituary says?”
