Page 39 of Yours

An urgent beep from the oven timer pulls me back to the present. “Come on,” I say, and hurry into the other room.

My dad is plucking broccoli from the steam basket into a bowl so when he turns, his glasses are fogged up. “Brian?” he asks, squinting. “I didn’t know you were joining us,” he says.

“I invited him,” I say.

The steam has cleared from the glasses, and my dad blinks. He sees the whiskey in Brian’s hand.

“That okay?” Brian asks, setting the whiskey on the table.

My dad looks at me, and I see a shift, almost like something breaking away. Is he mad? My dad’s never been a yeller, but maybe that’s about to change.

“Bout time you two came out with it,” he says.

Brian frowns. “You mean, you knew?”

“Of course, I knew,” Dad says, placing the broccoli on the table. He’s also cut up the chicken I roasted and served it on a plate.

Brian looks at me, relief and happiness taking over his features. It’s a look I can feel settle deep into my bones.

Dad pulls up a chair. “Now let’s eat before this good food gets cold.”

Fourteen

Darcy

After dinner, Brian takes me out to see a movie.

“You were right,” I say as we drive to the theater. “I’m glad my dad knows now.”

“Feels good, don’t it?” he asks, giving me a sideways look. I’m snuggled up close to him, and his hand is warming my thigh.

“Yeah,” I say. “I thought he was going to be mad or something.”

“After dinner, when you were getting ready, we opened that whiskey,” he says.

“Oh?” I ask.

Brian nods. “He said he loves me like a son, but that if I hurt you, he’d kill me with his bare hands.”

I burst out laughing. “My dad wouldn’t hurt a fly,” I say.

Brian pulls into the theater parking lot, a stern look on his face. “I care about you so much, Darcy. I would never hurt you.”

“I know that,” I say, confused as to why he’s telling me what I already feel in my heart.

At the theater, he lets me pick the movie, so I choose a funny one about a bunch of firefighters who end up having to babysit a couple of rowdy kids they rescue. It’s heartwarming and funny, and we both laugh. Brian holds my hand the whole time, except when he’s munching on popcorn.

After, he wants to take me to the bar to meet up with some of his friends. He seems so excited, but it makes me nervous.

“I don’t really drink,” I say as a way to try to discourage him.

He eyes me. “You don’t have to.”

I glance out the dark window and feel him reaching for my hand.

“We don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” he says.

“It’s just…what if people notice me?”

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