Page 107 of The Photograph

“Yes, but he didn’t tell me much.”

I chew my cheek. What do I say here? Should I be mad at her for outing him? But how can anyone be annoyed with a little old lady like Mrs. S? She invited me over for a chat, not to lay into her. God, so much has happened since Alex turned up with a bruised cheek and sad eyes.

“Alex came to live with me, but then he went back home for brunch and they staged an intervention and now he’s moved back home,” I say.

Her eyes narrow. “He didn’t say he was back there permanently, just that he was trying to keep the peace with his parents.”

So hehasconfided in her, but then, who else has he got? And for a minute shame burns through me, like I’ve left him to the wolves. But what do I say here? There is no keeping the peace if he’s gay, why can’t he see that? And how long will he stay in the closet in order tokeep the peace? Years? Decades?

“He said he hadn’t been able to get hold of you,” Ruth says, and those sharp eyes never leave my face.

Running my hand over my curls, I say, “I’m trying to deal with the reality of what this is. He doesn’t want what I want. He doesn’t seem to want to be out and in a gay relationship. I don’t think he realizes that he can’t have a relationship if he’s not out.” My chest aches.

She nods at this.

“I can’t believe his father …” I trail off. We’re talking about her son here.

Ruth waves a hand at me. “You don’t have to watch your words with me, young man. I know exactly what my son is like, and let me tell you”—she leans forward, lowering her voice—“he has never treated his family well.”

Her pink lips move like she’s chewing on something. He gave me that impression too and I’ve only met him once.

“When Alex turned up at my apartment that day, with his face like that …” I clench my fists. “Why did you out Alex in front of his father?” I can’t quite tamp down the sharpness in my voice.

She studies her hands. “You’re right to be annoyed. I did it deliberately. I felt it was time. You and he seemed so happy together.” She draws in a quick breath. “I didn’t want him to lose what he had with you, and I could see he was scared, a bit overwhelmed by you and who you are.”

“Overwhelmed by me?” I mean I get this: It was like that early on, but then he came to live with me and relaxed into it.

“I’m sure he did,” she says, and I stare at her.Oh God, I said that last part out loud.

“But it lasted such a short time. Like he came into my world and took a look around and said,Nope, not for me.”

“You have to remember he’s grown up in this closed environment: school, synagogue, his friends. Everybody doingthe same thing, all orchestrated by their families. Even at college he didn’t seem free. He’s way out of his comfort zone with you. You’ve got to expect him to have a few wobbles.”

A few wobbles? This is way more than that. “Did he tell you he also has a girlfriend now? That his family set him up with someone more appropriate,” I grump.

“He said they’d arranged a dinner.” She frowns.

As I pull my phone out of my pocket, Anna appears with a tray laden with cups, a teapot, and a plate of scones and starts putting things on the coffee table in front of us, pouring the tea into little china cups. I open up Facebook, scrolling until I find the pictures. Then I hand it over, and Ruth swipes through them and I watch her swipe-right game as she scrolls up and down.

“This is Hannah’s account, isn’t it?”

I nod. “Alex is tagged in it.”

She examines the photos again, stopping on one of them, and I know instantly which one it is. I pick up a cheese scone and bite into it as Anna disappears into the kitchen.

“Amalia Silverman,” she reads out. “A picture can tell a thousand lies,” she says, bent finger hovering over the screen.

“Yeah, I know that but …”

Sweeping her hand out toward the piano, she says, “Look at all those lovely pictures of Nate and me and our children. You wouldn’t think we weren’t happy, would you? You wouldn’t think for one second we didn’t have the perfect family.”

I stare at her.

“What do you mean?”

“Nate struggled with his sexuality. Very like Alex actually.”

Holy crap.Is shekiddingme? “Are you serious?”

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