Page 25 of Dear Mr. Brody

“Again?”

Groaning, she grabbed two more bags of chips, and I had to stifle my laugh. Not only was she a doormat, but she was also an emotional eater.

“Yeah… again. But I don’t want to talk about it.”

Of course not.

“Okay… but I would like you to remember this next time you start butting into my life.” I grinned and her lips perked up at the corners. “Thanks for helping me with dinner tonight. I’m nervous for Mom and Dad to see the place.”

“I can’t believe it’s taken this long for them to wheedle their way in…. you know Mom will probably walk around and straighten all your picture frames,” she said as we made our way to the checkout stands. “And Dad will dote on Anne while passive-aggressively chastising Owen and me for not giving him any grandkids.”

“Which Owen won’t even hear because he’ll be on the phonewith the office.” Laughing, I shook my head. “We’re such a cliché dysfunctional family.”

“Right?” she asked, grinning from ear to ear.

“You look so much like Mom when you smile.”

“God, don’t say that. Have you seen the grays in my hair?”

“Mom’s beautiful, and so are you.”

Which was true, at least in my opinion. With their delicate features, long, dark hair, and fair skin, they both resembled Snow White. Thinking about the fictional princess led to a thought aboutThe Lost Boyswhich made me think about the guy I’d been talking to on Pegasus the other night. Truthfully, I hadn’t stopped thinking about him since our conversation the other day, and with it being my weekend with Anne, and having my family over for dinner tonight, I hadn’t had a chance to message him again. Not like he’d messaged me either. I wasn’t sure of the protocol when it came to the amount of time I was supposed to wait before reaching out to him again, and if I asked my sister, it would open up a dialogue I did not want to have in the checkout line at a farmer’s market. The way the conversation had ended with him, it seemed as though he’d left the ball in my court.

Olive scrolled through her phone while we waited, and I used the moment to check my messages, as well, hoping maybe he’d reached out, and I didn’t have to. I pulled my phone from my back pocket and opened the app, disappointed when there were no new messages waiting. I read over our conversation again, smiling at his “water wings” comment. I should’ve cared more about our age difference, but in the grand scheme of things, nine years wasn’t that bad. He was an adult. But then again, when I was in my second year of college, he was the same age as my daughter.Shit.Maybe nine years was too much.

“What’s that face?” Olive asked and I quickly closed out of the app.

My heartbeat trampled all over itself, like I’d been caught trying to shoplift a Kit Kat bar.

“Nothing.” I tried to casually slip my phone into my back pocket, but like the cadaver dog that she was, Olive smelled blood.

Her lips parted in a slow grin. “Nothing… I don’t think so.”

Thankfully, the line moved, distracting her, but I knew it would only offer me a brief reprieve. I could tell her it was something about Lanie, but I didn’t want her thinking I was at my ex-wife’s beck and call. But then there was this itch, this need I had to tell her, to tell someone in my family the feelings I’d been hiding all this time. I hoped they’d all accept me and my sexuality, but the not knowing made it difficult to keep my imagination in check, to keep all the what ifs from getting out of control. What if they disowned me? What if they thought I was bad for Anne? What if I had to give up this side of myself in order to have my family? All these things I never had to think about when I was with Lanie. Even when she’d pissed off my sister, or offended my mom, they still accepted us. Accepted her. Would they be okay with me bringing a man home?

“There it is again,” Olive said, pointing an accusatory finger in my direction. “That face. Are you worried about leaving Anne with Owen? Because I would be.”

Laughing, I started to load the groceries onto the stand. “Owen is capable of watching Anne for an hour while I shop.”

“Only because Anne is self-sufficient.” She raised her eyebrows in a way that suggested there was no room to argue. “Besides… we’re getting off track. The face, Van… What’s going on?”

I smiled at the cashier as I stepped forward, and pushed the cart toward the bagging area, efficiently ignoring my sister entirely. I thought I might’ve been in the clear when she hadn’t mentioned anything again, but as soon as the bags were in the car, and we were on the road, she made it apparent she was not going to drop it.

“You’re hiding something. And I’m freaking out a little, because I’m terrified you’re going to tell me you’re getting back with Lanie. And I can’t, Van. I can’t with that chick.”

Gripping the steering wheel tighter than necessary, I grit my teeth. “Jesus Christ, Olive. Can you let it go? I’m allowed to have a private life.”

She turned in her seat and I exhaled, waiting for the inevitable guilt trip she was about to throw down.

“Youarehiding something… I can’t believe you’re getting back with Lanie. She’s too controlling, if you ask me, and she cheated on you the first chance she got. I swear to God if –”

“Holy shit, will you calm down. I’m not getting back with Lanie.”

“You’re not?”

“No…. I’m…” A burning ache threatened to close my throat, fear’s firm grip attempting to render me silent.

“What?” she asked, and I could hear the genuine concern in her tone. “If it’s not Lanie, then… shit, you’re okay, right? You don’t have cancer or something terrible like that because if you die, I—”

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