Page 95 of A Quick Stop in Paradise

Mom put her hands up placatingly. “Mom, please. It’s just been a lot for everybody. Don’t pick on my children.”

“Picking on?” Aunt Helena said, through forced, derisive laughter. “Your children getting held accountable ispicking on them?I guess you never change, Elizabeth.”

“Helena,” Mom said thinly. “I know you’re upset—”

“I’m notupset.I just don’t think you have any damn right to act like just because you have children, they’re always right, over our own mother.”

“Helena—”

Stella raised her voice enough it broke the social barrier, the rest of the terminal turning to look at us. I stared at the floor between my feet, too angry to be mortified, as she said, “Leave my mom out of this, Auntie. We all know you’re just taking out your anger that James didn’t want kids—”

“Stella,” Aunt Helena snapped at the same time as Grandma, but Stella was clenching her fists tightly, quivering on the spot.

“And we know Grandma is just angry that Ryan is bisexual and not sticking to her ideals of a miserable housewife—”

“I can’t believe you’d say that,” Aunt Helena cut in, rising from her seat, clutching James’ hand so hard they both turned white—James, for his part, pretended he couldn’t see any of this. Maybe the first time I’d related to the man. “This whole family onlyexistsbecause of your grandmother and everything she’s done for you—”

“I’m not beholden to her every bad mood because she’s my grandmother,” Stella said, “and neither is Ryan. Neither is my mother! She’s a bully, and you’re a bully, and Shane is a dirty-ass cheater, so if you all hate this, I’d say you get what you deserve!”

The gate exploded into chatter, shouting, people trying to calm it and people jumping in to take sides, while Grandma clutched her bag in her lap with a white-faced look like she’d pass out, and I didn’t even really make the decision—I found myself up on my feet, the blood pounding in my head, and I stayed there silently until everybody had paused long enough to look at me.

“I guess I should have stuck with the original plan,” I said coolly. “Go on without me. I’ll find my own way back.”

“Ryan—” Aunt Helena’s voice cracked, frayed. “You’re being ungrateful and immature right now—”

I turned and met her gaze, looking into her eyes with—I didn’t even know what kind of look, but it must not have been a regular one for me, judging by the way she recoiled white-faced like I’d pulled a knife on her. I held it for a second before I said, quietly, “That’s fine by me. Let’s not do this again, Aunt Helena. I don’t think we need to talk anymore. You live your life, and I’ll live mine. You too, Grandma. Enjoy yourselves.”

I turned on my heel, walking at a quick clip before I could rethink it, shoes clicking on the tile floor as the wheels on my suitcase rolled along behind me, and over the chatter and commotion, I heard Stella behind me yell out to the group, “And I’m bisexual too, so thanks for the fucking support!”

Didn’t even realize she was following me until I got out to the baggage claim, standing my suitcase and leaning back against the wall with a bone-deep sigh, and I raised an eyebrow at the sight of Stella marching out after me, tears in the corners of her eyes.

“Hey,” I said. “You don’t need to march out in solidarity.”

“I’m marching out because I can’t stand this fucking family,” she said, trying to be tough with it, but her voice cracked and wavered, tears budding higher in her cheeks. I didn’t even think—put out an arm, and I pulled her into a hug, squeezing her tightly, and she gripped me so tightly it felt like my ribcage would collapse like an empty soda can. She cried into my collar, the frustrated kind of tears where she was trying not to cry and it was only making her cry harder, gripping fistfuls of the back of my shirt.

“Let it out,” I said quietly. “You’re safe here.”

“It’s just… none of it’s fair,” she said thickly. “They’re always someaneven without saying anything, but since it’s without saying anything, it’s always like I’m the bad guy… for saying something… but none of them have ever given two shits about me. Nobody gives a fuck.”

I squeezed her. Think I was crying too now. I let it happen, taking a shaky breath. “They really don’t,” I murmured. “I can’t think of a day they haven’t tried to talk over you and dismiss you. No wonder you’ve gotten to be so loud.”

She laughed, cried, all in one. “I thought you’d argue… all my friends do that. You know,oh, they’re your family, they love you, family’s just like that.”

“Your friends don’t know the family. I do. Love takes a lot of forms, but none of them look like that bullshit.”

She squeezed me tighter. It actually kind of started to hurt a little, but… she needed this right now. Hell, I needed this right now. I squeezed her even tighter, my arms burning, as she mumbled, “You’re the one who they’ve been harassing all this time and I’m the one crying on you…”

“Hey, I’m crying too,” I laughed weakly, and she sniffled.

“You don’t cry very hard.”

“You’re just louder than me in everything… including in coming out. You made a journey that took me ten years in about five days.”

“What’s it matter? They can’t hate me more. They might as well hate me for who I actually am.”

I paused for a second before I said, “Hey, Stella?”

“What?”

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