Page 80 of Our Own Light

Floyd snorted. Gee, maybe they’d have to learn Jo not to talk about him and Ollie so much. He wondered what sorts of strangeness William must be telling his parents by now. Neither Margaret nor Leonard had said nothing to him about it yet. They probably thought Jo was spinning tall tales, is all. Hopefully, anyway.

Effie came out from the back room wearing her wide-brimmed straw hat.

“What do you think, fellas? Does it look nice enough with this here dress Floyd bought for me over in Charleston?”

“You look real pretty, Effie,” Floyd said, staring at her with a kind of wonderment. Sometimes, he was still a little taken aback by her beauty. It wasn’t the same kind of admiring he felt toward men, but Effie was prettier than even the nicest painting. He supposed he should tell her that more often. “Even prettier than a sunset.”

“Thank you,” Effie said, now absolutely beaming.

Ollie must have noticed the change, too. “Well, yeah, with a smile like that, especially.”

Effie’s cheeks started looking a bit rosy. It was nice to see her like this, though it made Floyd feel sad for her, too. He sometimes wished there was some way he could feel toward her what he felt toward Ollie. Because Effie ought to have been blessed with a husband who was the way he was supposed to be. For the most part, Floyd hadn’t had a problem with his liking men. He had made peace with it in his youth. But in moments like this, Floyd found himself feeling a touch bad about it. He hoped Effie was still happy in the life they had together.

Ollie touched his back and said, “Do you want your hat?”

“Yeah,” Floyd said, shaking his head, as though to shoo away the unexpected bout of sadness. “I’ll wear it.”

When Effie handed it to him, she caught his eye and looked at him in a way as though to ask if everything was fine. After a moment, Floyd nodded. Effie’s mouth pinched at the corner like she wasn’t believing him.

“Oliver, would you mind walking ahead with Josephine?” Effie asked. “I want to talk to Floyd about something real quick.”

“Of course not,” Ollie said. He held out his hand for Josephine. “Come on, Jo.”

It was nice that Jo had taken to holding Ollie’s hand sometimes.

After Ollie and Jo left, Effie looked at Floyd expectantly.

“Are you happy, Effie?”

“Why’re you asking me that? Of course I’m happy.”

“With me sleeping over at Ollie’s so much, you know...”

Floyd looked at his shoes. It pained him to keep looking at her.

“I know you ain’t leaving me, Floyd. Is that what this is about?”

“Yeah, maybe. Or . . .”

“Or what?”

“Ain’t you want a normal husband?”

“No,” Effie said, very matter-of-factly. “I like my strange husband. He treats me well and provides for me and—”

“Anyone can do them things.”

“And he’s my best friend in the whole world. And now I’m so lucky that I got a new friend, too. His name is Oliver. He’s sweet and funny and makes my husband real happy.”

Floyd could feel the heat blooming on his cheeks. He had to fight to contain a smile.

“Stop that,” he said, looking away again.

“Now my strange husband keeps coming home with expensive-looking silk undergarments, too. Makes me feel like we’re living in some mansion over in Bramwell or something.”

Floyd’s eyes snapped up to meet Effie’s teasing little smile. In retaliation, he snatched her hat and flung it across the room.

“Hey!”

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